“Is this heaven?”

A blank, bewildered stare plus a why-am-I-alive tone equals one dorky-cute loli, like a kitten lost in new snow.

In the loli’s so-called heaven, two girls clutched their mouths and burst into laughter, squeaky like scrubbing plates under cold light.

“Hahahahaha! Hey, Zha, look—this loli’s blank look is stupidly adorable. Is this the legendary dorky-cute?”

“Not quite, Zi. From twenty years of loli appreciation, this isn’t dorky-cute. This is ditzy-cute.”

“Ditzy-cute? Hahahahaha—hiccup. Yeah, that word fits like a bow.”

Xi had been doubting the reality of seeing three idols up close in a single day. Their laughter snapped her back like a twig cracking in a quiet grove.

“Sh—shut up! I’m not dumb! Xi’s super smart! Don’t say that!”

Her protest pressed the laugh buttons harder. Their cackles swelled, beating in rhythm like a drum line in a parade.

Xi saw her shout do nothing and panicked, hands fluttering like sparrows. She feared these ‘idols’ were just ‘villains’ who’d laugh till sunrise.

Crack! Crack!

Two crisp forehead flicks sliced into the rhythm, flipping it into sob-sobs (X﹏X) like rain pattering after fireworks.

No question who delivered them—Yuuka, who’d brought the loli here. Her queenly aura unfurled like a field of sunflowers. A tall green silhouette rose behind her, an emerald colossus deepening the throne-room hush.

“Hey, you two ha-ha monsters, bullying the kid I brought—are you trying to disrespect me?”

Zi and Zha shivered, hugging each other in a corner, leaves in a sudden wind.

“We… we were wrong! It won’t happen again!”

Their quick contrition pleased Yuuka. She folded her presence back in, vines closing, and her voice softened like warm tea.

“Good. Since you know you were wrong, arrange things for this little one.”

Zi blinked, then sprang from the corner, zero sign of having survived a brush with doom.

“Hey, Yuuka, think it through—are you really choosing her?”

Yuuka brushed Zi’s hand off her shoulder with a light tap. “Mm.” Then, whether Zi agreed or not, she turned and tugged the loli from her daze.

“Hey, Xi. Up you get. Time to try.”

Yuuka’s tug pulled Xi out of that dreamy, indirectly-protected haze. One sentence from Yuuka had stilled the two like a queen silencing a hall. It felt like a knight cutting her free from thorns when the princess was in peril. That feeling of being shielded made Xi a little drunk on it; she liked that warmth.

In a place Xi couldn’t see, a seed of feeling cracked its shell and began to sprout.

“Later, you’ll go up and try a dance. Do your best, don’t force it. And…”

Zi laid out what came next. Xi listened in bits and pieces, calm as a pond at dusk. She knew she’d dance, and she had the grit to nail it. For this dream, she’d practiced till her sweat fell like summer rain.

“Okay, that’s enough. Once the black-haired big sister—Zha—says ‘You can go up,’ you go perform. We’ll pick the song you’re best at.”

Xi didn’t know how they knew her strengths, but she nodded, steady as a lantern flame.

“Good. Stay right here and don’t wander. I’ll prep your track.”

Zi turned, gripped the railing, lifted her right leg high, and flowed over like a cat clearing a fence. She left Xi nothing but a fading silhouette and footfalls into shadow.

Oddly, Xi felt like someone had just gotten a tiny advantage over her. She shook her head like a pup shedding water and let the thought go. Maybe nerves. She stayed put, obedient as Zi had asked, waiting for the call.

After a long lull, music finally bloomed in the dark, lanterns strung across the night of this room, and the silence found a pulse. The loli’s inner unease eased, waves settling—mostly because the song was—

“Whoa! It’s Senbonzakura? Didn’t think that loli liked Hatsune Miku. That’s a surprise~”

Zha, on music duty, flinched at Zi’s choice. Zi brought a karate chop down on her head, brows knit like tight stitches.

“Don’t care what they like. Even if they like Weifeng Dandang, you still play it.”

Zha played up the pain, hands on her head, pouty as syrup. “Ow-ow. I need a kiss-and-hug from Sister Zi to keep working~”

Zi answered with a five-hit combo of chops, batting the slacker back to the console.

Ahem. Enough rambling—back to the point.

After a grand total of six chops, Zha queued the track and opened the mic. With lips swollen by Zi’s taps, she spoke around the puffiness.

“Ahem… So… you can go up now!”

Xi, a sworn good kid, knew this was her moment. The music hovered right before the drop, tide drawing breath before it broke. If not now, when?

She took two deep breaths, shut her eyes, let her heart settle like dust in sunbeams, then snapped them open.

“Then… I’m going up.”

Her foot hit the floor, solid as a drum. In that click, the gears of girl and loli began to turn—joy or sorrow, whatever comes, will come.