Moon bright, stars thin; magpies wing south.

Tonight the moon glows like a silver bowl, the stars scattered like salt.

Magpies? Maybe there are a few, little ink arrows in the dark.

And even if there are, who says they fly south?

They might veer west like blown leaves, or launch for space like sparks.

Only Ling would let her thoughts wander like loose kites.

She perches on a rock the size of a sleeping whale.

Maybe it’s a thumbnail Pangu chipped when he split sky from earth.

Not far, the beach lies quiet, the same shore they played at today.

Even where she dozed, the sand keeps a faint thumbprint.

It’s already fading, like tide-wiped calligraphy—no, a miracle it remains at all.

Few people drift through here; only moonlight and stones keep this blond cub company.

Arthas and Jiu Jiu ran off like gulls; they won’t sit here with her.

Sitting still can brew loneliness like cold tea.

But Ling feels no loneliness; she savors this clear, still air.

How long since she tasted silence like spring water?

She asks herself, the thought a soft ripple.

She can’t recall when it started: besides bath and toilet breaks, a red-haired big sister shadows her.

Even when Alicia slips away for a moment, work done, she sprints back like fire, trying to make up the missing time.

And this feeling of being accompanied… unexpectedly, she doesn’t hate it.

The thought warms her; blush blooms like peach petals under the moon.

Under this lantern of heaven, she looks like a beauty by moonlight.

For such a sight, someone might light signal fires to stir lords, just to win her smile.

The moonlit beauty is self-aware; she feels her face burn and, shy, flops down flat.

She doesn’t care if the stone is dusty; cool seeps through cloth like mountain spring.

Heat drains from her limbs; the pink in her cheeks fades like evening clouds.

Since she’s already lying down, her eyes climb to the bright disc above.

People say the moon abroad looks rounder.

She’s crossed worlds; that should beat crossing borders.

So why does this moon look lopsided and a little ugly?

Hmm. Truly hard on the eyes, like a dented coin.

Back home, the moon was a tiny light plate; a finger could measure it to a thumbnail.

Here, the otherworld moon is a show-off; it looms huge, a pale shield.

So big she can see its acne-pit craters, a pocked face of stone.

The little one wonders: can this thing really stir homesickness?

It’s not that Ling nitpicks; creatures carry their own sense of beauty.

And the world—even another world—mostly worships good looks.

Americans love freckled girls; in the East, snaggle-tooth JKs get cheers.

Back where she’s from, it’s all about big dio moe girls…

Hm? Something weird slipped in there.

Meh. Ignore, ignore.

Even here, would a crater-faced moon maiden spark nostalgia?

If yes, that person’s hometown memories must taste bitter.

Looks like she wandered off track.

Wait, what was she thinking in the first place?

She won’t find out; a red-haired girl stands nearby, quiet as flame.

Alicia pads closer, holding Shift in her steps, a cat in moonlight.

The distance between them drops to zero like a bead sliding on a string.

A hand drifts over Ling’s face and settles on her eyes, silk-soft.

“Guess who I am?”

What a dumb game, Ling thinks, a paper-silly pastime.

But she doesn’t dislike it; you only play this with someone close.

“Arthas?”

“Not me~”

“Pervy Dragon?”

“You still use that? Jiu Jiu will cry, you know.”

“Purple Mom?”

“Who’s that? Sounds like a thirty-something auntie.”

Maybe they’re both dumb, a matched pair of sparrows.

Ling tosses names like pebbles; Alicia tosses back quips like shells.

It’s a game you can win by voice alone, yet they run laps with glee.

“All right! Enough stupidity. How does a genius like me have a dumb little sister like you?”

Maybe Alicia realizes this is too silly and closes the game.

For the record, Ling’s last guess was “Dalabengba.”

Ling sticks out her tongue, still sprawled like a lazy cat, but her gaze hooks on Alicia.

“If the little sister’s dumb, she’s just taking after big sis.”

“As the sister goes, so goes the sister, right?”

“Tch. It’s your mouth that’s sharp. I can’t beat you at talk.”

“Thanks for the compliment~”

“No one complimented you!”

They bicker in scattered lines, no topic, never-ending, like waves teasing rocks.

A passerby would swear these two sisters are close enough to be lovers.

“Hey, Ling, what are you doing out here?”

If Alicia’s intuition weren’t keen, sixth sense tugging true, Ling would still be parked here.

“I’m really blessed,” she thinks. “I go ‘missing,’ and someone worries, someone comes looking…”

A smile lifts her lips, the first pure smile since falling into this other world.

“Sis, me? I’m happy. So happy~”

“Hmm?”

Ling’s out-of-nowhere reply makes Alicia tilt her head, puzzled, like a bird hearing thunder.