After the school bell rang, the flaxen-haired girl loosened her hair. She bit a hair tie between her teeth, gathered her locks, and secured them into a small ponytail.
Watching Moyu slumped dejectedly at her desk, Yuki felt utterly speechless.
"Next class is English. Get up. Don’t lie there like a corpse," Yuki snapped.
She grabbed Moyu’s ear, yanking her upright from her slump.
"Besides, it was just detention from the math teacher. Nothing serious."
"It’s a huge deal, okay…" Moyu retorted, mimicking Yuki’s dead-fish stare.
"How could you understand a slacker’s pain?"
"You little brat, study properly! Sleeping and gaming all day—you barely scraped through freshman year." A vein throbbed on Yuki’s forehead. She truly despaired at Moyu’s lack of drive. The girl had zero ambition, drifting through life day by day.
"If only lunchtime would hurry up," Moyu muttered, glancing at her watch with little interest in the next class.
"You will pay attention this period," Yuki ordered.
"Nope," Moyu flatly refused.
"If you keep this up, you’ll fail."
"As long as I don’t fail, it’s fine."
"What about after? No college plans?"
"It’s only sophomore year. Too early to worry."
"You…" Yuki nearly choked on her frustration. Her concern went unappreciated. "Fine. Do what you want." She gave up. After all, she had a mission after school.
Moyu Manatsu lifted her head, gazing listlessly at the blackboard.
She just wanted to go home and game.
Outside, the sun blazed fiercely—unusually hot for morning.
Moyu was a slacker. No big deal; everyone had strengths and weaknesses. Like Moyu, who excelled at napping in class but not at studying.
What if that night had never happened? How would she be now? Moyu sometimes wondered, but glancing at Yuki reading quietly, she sensed something different.
That event had shaken her deeply. Yet she admitted—if she hadn’t become a girl, she might never have grown this close to Yuki.
That night, if the firefly hadn’t landed, she’d still be him. There’d be no Moyu Manatsu.
Was heaven playing a joke on her?
Sighing, Moyu slumped down again.
Slowly, the day passed. The sun dipped low, painting the sky in twilight hues.
"Moyu." Yuki shook her shoulder. "Wake up. Time to go home." She wondered if Moyu had overslept today.
"Already this late…? Haa~" Moyu yawned, rubbing her eyes. Her azure eyes glowed faintly as she packed her bag and shouldered her backpack. "Let’s go."
"No. We have a mission today."
"Oh." The girl, now aware of the world’s hidden side, followed Yuki without question. They walked out of school, passing classmates who meant nothing to Moyu.
Outside the gates, silence hung between them. Yuki’s expression grew graver until they entered a park, where her brow finally relaxed slightly.
"They’re here."
"So soon?"
Before Moyu could react, Yuki darted in front, shoving her behind. Yuki whipped out a yin-yang talisman. A thunderous boom ripped through the park, black smoke billowing and drawing stares from passersby.
"Run!" Yuki grabbed Moyu’s hand and sprinted. Eerie screeches chased them.
This was the truth Moyu Manatsu had learned after that night: the world held secrets unknown to most.
Gripping Moyu’s hand, Yuki Shiki stayed razor-focused, scanning for side attacks.
A crack split the ground, spewing flames. A month ago, Moyu Manatsu would’ve called this pure movie magic.
Yuki shoved Moyu backward. Moyu stumbled and fell, watching her only friend hurl dozens of shurikens at the impossible.
Some truths defied science. That’s why ordinary humans never saw the other side of the world.
Governments shielded it. No one knew their reality had a hidden layer—where the inexplicable thrived.
Moyu Manatsu had lived it. Events once confined to TV screens now haunted her days.
That night, fireflies rained on the city, exploding with missile-like force. That same night, she’d witnessed humans from the shadows wielding unbelievable power.
Then, the next morning, Moyu Manatsu’s body transformed utterly. Everything began that day…
"Done." Yuki Shiki pocketed her talisman and picked up a green glass bead—the remnant of the blast.
"That fast?"
"Hmm. Just minor youkai. Nothing serious. Not like real trouble." Yuki brushed dust off her uniform, unfazed. "Still, watch for suspicious people around you. Your body’s valuable." She casually traced a finger over Moyu’s chest. Moyu flushed. Her hat tumbled off, landing on the grass.
"Strange as it sounds, you’re cuter without it," Yuki said, retrieving the hat and dusting it off.
"Yuki, remember—I was a guy. Without the hat, I look too girly," Moyu Manatsu deadpanned.
"When you were a guy, I thought you weren’t manly enough. Now I see—I was wrong. You’re actually adorable." Yuki plopped the hat onto her own head, striding home. It gave her a sharp, cool edge.
"Hearing that doesn’t make me happy…"
"Speaking of which, Moyu, really no interest in learning onmyōdō?" Yuki adjusted the hat casually.
"Nope. Too much hassle."
"Not even for superpowers?"
"I lack the talent."
"You’re just lazy. What if I’m not around someday? You’re pathetically weak."
"You’ll be there."
"Are you optimistic or just hopeless? You don’t belong in our world." Yuki sighed. Moyu’s apathy was baffling. How could someone stay so calm when their whole life had flipped upside down?
Moyu Manatsu had always drifted through life. Without becoming a girl, she might have rotted away till graduation.
"Hey, Yuki." Halfway home, Moyu spoke up.
"What?"
"Lend me your homework to copy." Moyu Manatsu asked dead seriously.
"DO! IT! YOURSELF!" A giant # symbol seemed to pulse on Yuki’s forehead. Dark aura radiated from her, her face twisting fiercely.
Only Moyu Manatsu could rile the unflappable class rep like this.
"You stayed up all night for guild raids or new gear again, didn’t you!"
"How’d you know?!"
"How wouldn’t I? You lazy otaku!"
Passersby smiled at the "lovey-dovey" pair, nostalgic for their youth. The sunset deepened. Trams clattered past. After parting ways, Moyu headed to a supermarket for dinner ingredients.
Moonlight bathed the cramped apartment. Time ticked by amid clutter: soda cans, game consoles, snack bags, underwear, adult magazines…
A textbook shut-in’s den.
"Yuki’s such a cheapskate, won’t even lend homework," Moyu grumbled, forcing herself to write. She wore only an oversized T-shirt—no bra, no pants. Her pale legs were strikingly alluring, especially with her damp hair spilling past her shoulder blades. A total trap, yet she felt zero self-consciousness. Living alone meant no rules. Just occasional texts to her dad.
By 11 PM, homework was finally done. Normal people would sleep, ready for tomorrow.
But…
"Today’s raid isn’t cleared yet…" Moyu Manatsu booted up her laptop. Night was prime time for gamers; daytime was for naps.
Hours slipped by. At 3:50 AM, drowsiness finally crept in.
Time flew.
She yawned, reluctantly closed the game, and collapsed into bed.
Living alone meant no scolding for all-nighters. Parents weren’t around. Moyu Manatsu liked this freedom.
Lights out. She recalled this morning’s dream—the murdered girl was unmistakably her female self.
Why this recurring nightmare? It had haunted her monthly since the change.
"Sleep," she mumbled. No point dwelling on unsolvable problems.
Asleep, she never guessed her life would flip again—just like a month ago.
The moon vanished behind dark clouds. Dawn broke, time restarting.
The girl rubbed her head, opening crimson eyes at an unfamiliar ceiling. Utter bewilderment set in.
"Huh… where am I…"
The gears of fate had begun to turn.
