The lingering flames flickered before her eyes. Men in black suits held pistols, but all attention centered on the woman in a white kimono standing among them.

Her delicate features were etched with gloom, an aura of killing intent radiating from within. Though her kimono clashed with the scene, it lent her an eerie, otherworldly beauty.

"This is… truly unlucky," Sorafarin muttered, forcing a bitter smile.

"Yuki…"

Yuki Shiki stared at the woman, the name slipping out unbidden. The other merely smiled.

"Leave your friend to me. Everything will be fine."

Hayato Nanami stepped forward. The pressure rolling off her crushed the air itself—a hellish weight even Moyu Manatsu, wounded on the ground, could feel in her bones.

"Miss of the Shiki family," Sorafarin began, "we hold no grudge against your house. Why interfere with the Investigation Bureau’s duty?"

"My apologies. We mean no disrespect. But the girl you seek is a friend of our young mistress. I ask for your mercy."

Sorafarin’s jaw tightened. She’d risked her career, defying superiors to chase leads on this newly awakened esper—Moyu Manatsu—in Japan.

"Moyu Manatsu is a victim of the Firefly Incident. She awakened her abilities a month ago. We’re here to ensure her safety."

She grasped for any leverage.

"Then you may leave. Moyu Manatsu can no longer wield Mana. You saw it yourselves—she never once fought back."

"But she hasn’t mastered her power yet. That doesn’t mean she lacks ability."

"Prove it. This girl shows zero Mana fluctuations. Where’s your evidence linking her to the Firefly Incident?"

"…"

"Investigation Bureau agents assaulting civilians? That crime alone could bury you in an iron cell for life."

Silence.

Outnumbered and evidence-less, Sorafarin yielded. "John. Withdraw."

"Understood."

The two foreigners left, resentment simmering beneath their retreat.

Moyu Manatsu finally unclenched. Memories of the brutal fight still haunted her.

"Moyu."

Yuki Shiki hurried over, crouching to examine her wounds. Her expression remained perfectly calm, but concern flickered in her eyes.

"Are you alright?"

"I’m fine…"

Pain screamed through her body, but Moyu Manatsu gritted her teeth. *Stupid male pride*, she thought bitterly.

Hayato Nanami surveyed the wreckage—shattered walls, roaring flames. Covering this up wouldn’t be easy. With civilians unaware of the truth, secrecy was non-negotiable.

Due to Moyu’s injuries, they retreated to the Shiki estate for treatment. Yuki’s home was a sprawling traditional wooden mansion—clearly the residence of an old, powerful family. *No wonder she’s a proper young lady*, Moyu mused. Her parents researched onmyōji arts and supernatural phenomena; Yuki would inherit everything. Ancient lineage, deep roots, endless wealth. *Capitalism really is something else.*

"Ow—owowow!"

Moyu winced as antiseptic touched her cheek.

"It’s barely a scratch. Such a weakling," Hayato sighed, dabbing the wound with cotton.

"Miss Manatsu… you were a boy before, right?"

"What’s with that suspicious look…?" Moyu shrank back under her gaze.

"I’m just thinking… someone like you was once male? Hard to believe."

*Just stating facts*, Hayato told herself. *Honesty!*

Moyu’s chest tightened as if struck by an arrow.

"Is that really okay to say, Miss Hayato?"

She claimed not to mind, but irritation flared.

"What’s wrong with it? You’re far more likable this way."

"I have no desire to be a girl."

Even after a month in this body, Moyu still longed to be male again. *If only a way back existed…*

Yuki returned with bandages. She took Moyu’s torn, filthy uniform jacket, discarded it, then lifted her bare arm. With careful motions, she wrapped the gauze around the wound.

"Does it still hurt?"

Though Yuki’s face showed no ripple, Moyu saw the worry in her eyes.

"No. Thank you."

"I see."

Once finished, Yuki gathered the medical kit and left. Hayato watched her go, then turned to Moyu.

"You’re remarkably important to the young mistress. If you were still a boy… I’d worry she might fall for you." She teased lightly.

Moyu’s cheeks flushed. She coughed to mask her embarrassment. "Yuki has plenty of friends. She doesn’t need just me."

*Being noticed by a girl is nice*, Moyu admitted inwardly, *but I’m nobody special to her*.

Yuki Shiki possessed everything Moyu lacked—friends, status, effortless brilliance. Teachers adored her; classmates flocked to her. Comparing themselves was pointless. They lived in separate worlds, brought together by chance. Even as friends, they’d never been truly close. To Yuki, Moyu was replaceable. But to Moyu… Yuki was one of the few lights in her lonely life.

"Yuki… she’s extraordinary. If she sets her mind to something, she achieves it."

*We’re not even on the same level.*

A quiet shame coiled in Moyu’s chest. Simply being Yuki’s classmate felt like a privilege.

"So, girl," Hayato cut in abruptly, "what are your intentions?"

"What do you mean?"

"To you, the young mistress is a precious friend. Right?"

"…Yes."

"Then understand her better. She’s not so simple. After seeing her fight to protect you—didn’t it spark anything in you?"

"I admit… a little. But—"

"But what?"

"We’re too different. I could never walk the same path as her."

…

Moyu’s words stung, yet rang true. Hayato found no rebuttal.

"Listen. The Investigation Bureau has marked you. They want what’s inside you. Relying solely on the young mistress won’t save you. Don’t you want to grow stronger?"

"Why?"

"For your own sake. Next time they come, she might not be there. At the very least… don’t be dead weight."

Harsh, but honest. If Moyu learned to harness her power, she wouldn’t burden Yuki.

*She’s right*, Moyu knew. *I’ve always known.*

"I’m just… not cut out for this."

Without hesitation, she refused.

"Why? Don’t you want to protect your friends? Your family?"

Hayato’s shock was palpable. *Who rejects this?*

A true friend would train tirelessly, bleed willingly, to stand beside those they cherished. Did this girl feel nothing at all?

"I’d rather stay home and play games. Read manga."

Moyu stated her truth.

She wasn’t a hero. She wouldn’t gamble her life for others. That wasn’t who Moyu Manatsu was.

*Just an ordinary person. No protagonist’s resolve.*

"Besides… I have nothing worth protecting."

…

Dusk fell. The sun dipped below the horizon. Dressed in fresh clothes, Moyu Manatsu bid Yuki farewell and headed home. Yuki watched her small figure fade into the twilight, expression unreadable.

"Moyu Manatsu is merely an ordinary girl living in the mundane world. The only extraordinary thing about her… is the accident that reshaped her body."

Hayato’s voice was quiet.

Only when Moyu vanished did Yuki turn to her maid. Her face held a gravity Hayato had never seen.

"But she is my friend."

Unaware of the exchange behind her, Moyu walked on. Even after earth-shattering events, her desire remained unchanged: *Go home. Play games.*

An ordinary life was all she wanted. Just to live well.

That night, lights off, she felt a flicker of excitement thinking of tomorrow’s journey to another world.

She slept deeply.

Morning came. She opened her eyes—not to a cluttered room, but a clean, tidy dormitory.

Sitting up, she watched the girl before her stretch lazily. Moyu smiled.

"Good morning, Caina."

*Perhaps the false world… is the truest one of all.*

The thought drifted through her mind as a new day began in the other world.