“I want this one!”

Xi, the loli, pointed at Ling in Alicia’s arms, her finger like an arrow loosed under moonlight.

Ling blinked in shock, and Alicia’s eyes went wider, like ripples shivering across still water.

Maybe it was the charm that clung to this loli like summer honey, because Alicia’s body moved on its own, like a puppet tugged by silken strings, and offered Ling out.

Xi nodded and took Ling, her glance at Alicia a quick, bright stamp of approval, like a seal pressed in cinnabar.

She hugged Ling and walked, small feet tapping like raindrops, into a room, and tossed a warning over her shoulder like a thrown knife: “Whoever comes in, I’ll bite them to death!”

The door slammed with a bang, like thunder boxed in a wooden cloud, and the crowd outside stood stone-still, like cranes frozen in frost.

“Hey… did you hear what Xi just said? So cute— I mean, so threatening,” someone hissed, their voice like steam.

Zi’s quip popped the cork, and chatter bubbled up like a kettle at boil, voices crisscrossing like sparrows.

“And did you see how Xi hugged Ling? Two tiny bodies, one cradling the other— the mismatch hit me right in the girlish heart, like a spring breeze.”

“So, is Xi the top or is Ling the bottom?” another voice flicked, like a pebble on a pond.

“Isn’t that the same?” someone waved, like a lazy fan.

“No! I say neither. I’m team Ling-top!” a cry rang, like a banner snapping.

“Huh?! Did your eyes glitch? Xi looks so top, and you call her bottom?” The retort cracked like dry bamboo.

“Exactly! Xi’s the top! Say she’s a bottom and you’re asking for war!” The words marched like drums.

“War it is! Who’s afraid? Ling-top forever!” The shout rose like a bonfire’s flare.

Alicia watched their back-and-forth, and a “this is fine” smile drifted onto her face, like a sleepy clockface grinning at dawn.

Inside, Ling’s happiness wasn’t the sugar the others imagined; it tasted like rain on iron.

Thud!!

Xi slammed Ling to the floor like a shadow pouncing, her palms braced on the boards to cut off every path like fallen logs.

“Xi… Xi-chan, this is a rough way to greet someone,” Ling breathed, her heart fluttering like a trapped moth.

Xi only looked puzzled, her head dipping until their noses hovered a fingernail apart, like two petals almost touching.

“What’s rough? I think it’s fine,” she murmured, breath warm like tea steam, her milk-sweet scent washing over like fresh bread.

“Xi… Xi-chan.” Ling’s voice trembled like a plucked string.

— Is my first time going to end here, handed over like a ribbon in a breeze? Am I about to be the bottom, soft as tofu? Do I really fold like grass in rain? Well… I’m a loli anyway.

She shut her eyes with a small smile, like a flower closing at dusk, and waited for fate to land.

“Ling…”

“Mm… I’m ready.” Her voice was a candle flame.

A heartbeat of silence fell, like snow between bells.

“Ling… can you not go near Yuuka?!”

“Mm— wha?” The floor dropped out from under her thoughts like a trapdoor.

The plot leapt off the Script, and Ling’s mind went blank like a wiped slate.

“Wait, Xi-chan, what are you saying?”

Xi pushed up and rose off Ling, the distance between them returning like tide.

“I said, don’t go near Yuuka. Also, don’t call me Xi-chan.”

“Ah… ahahaha…” The laugh skittered like a beetle.

— Great… I’m lost. Don’t go near Yuuka? I don’t want to go near her! What if I get turned into flower fertilizer? Sure, maybe this Yuuka won’t touch a loli, and maybe she’s not the real deal… but those eyes are a winter wind.

“Xi… no, I don’t get it. What do you mean by ‘near Yuuka’?”

Whoosh—

A throwing knife streaked from nowhere and bit the floor by Ling’s armpit, like lightning kissing wood; a hair closer and it would’ve nicked her flat chest.

Two more knives gleamed between Xi’s fingers, her gaze lowering like a hawk’s shadow, a hint of blood-moon fierce in her eyes.

“Drop the act,” she said, voice cool as jade. “It’s girls like you—cute and reckless—that keep Yuuka from noticing me. So here’s advice: don’t let me catch you seducing her. Otherwise…”

Ding…

The blade flashed light into Ling’s eyes, a cold star spelling its own meaning.

Back straight. Sit proper. Small. Meek. She arranged herself like a sparrow on a twig.

“Yes! I understand!” Her answer snapped like a salute.

That was the only right answer under this sky.

Xi eyed the newly obedient Ling-loli and let a sliver of approval bloom, like a plum in snow.

At least she wasn’t like the others Xi had met: some stubborn as oxen, dying before they’d listen; others tossing a line like, “I like it, so what, huh?”—all thorn, no ear.

This one was obedient to a fault. Mm. Teachable.

“Alright, go back,” Xi said, voice easing like shade. “One rule only. Don’t touch Yuuka. Everything else is your business.”

“Yes!”

If it’s a play, then play it to the hilt. Ling stood, opened the door, turned, and bowed deep like a reed in wind.

“Boss, thanks for your hard work!” she chirped, then left, leaving Xi a shade embarrassed, like a cat caught mid-groom.

“Hellooo— Ling-chan, all done?” Zi’s voice rose sweet and sharp by Ling’s ear, like sugar on a knife.

Ling didn’t catch the joke, but a chill climbed her spine like an ant trail; that’s the feeling when someone imagines you with malice.

She didn’t pin it on Zi; her suspicion settled on Xi still in the room, like ink on a name.

She wrote Xi into her little black book in her heart, a note for future rain, then lifted her eyes to Zi, who’d called her.

“What is it?” Her words were soft, like a leaf.

Zi’s mouth curved into a smile with a razor under it, like a crescent moon with a hook.

“As the saying goes, after you finish, your stamina’s full,” she sang, light as wind. “So, Ling, come help with work.”

“Wait… at least tell me what work,” Ling protested, voice bobbing like a cork.

Zi pretended not to hear, and yanked Ling into a run, her steps quick as swallows.

Ling trailed helplessly, afraid to pull hard on Zi’s hand—fast as a thief wind—and unable to stop a woman playing deaf.

She ran along, and the faint alarm in her chest ticked like a cricket in grass; she let fate drive, as she always did, like a boat drifting with the current.