Sen Getsusa walked down the street humming, raven-black hair tucked behind her ears, flowing over her shoulders to her waist.
From behind she looked slim; from the front, voluptuous—unfortunately swamped by an oversized black hoodie.
Long cuffs exposed only pale green fingertips; a turquoise drop hung from her left earlobe.
A small gift from Yuno Gasai.
Ginza, Japan's iconic shopping district, lay near the Imperial Palace.
Neon blazed twenty-four hours; masked men and women in expensive or cutting-edge fashion chatted in twos and threes.
Foreign tourists lugged bags of every size, ready to keep shopping despite the late hour.
Getsusa had just finished a spree—Aria had called for Child car-seats and small desks.
Under that pretext she had indulged herself, satisfying a craving pent up far too long.
For the newly arrived feline guests she bought brand-new food bowls, litter trays, climbing towers and little houses.
She had placed bulk orders at a big pet store—every variety imaginable.
She even picked up a few simple planks; once everything was delivered, the restless Boys could build the cats a house.
A shopping spree, to Sen Getsusa, meant gifts for everyone back home.
ヽ(??▽?)ノ Shopping—so happy!
Nanami Aoyama's gift is a pricey headset—together with the mic she gave last time, the girl is finally completing the set.
Izumi Sagiri and Chitose Murase each get a set of pens.
But Sagiri's are paintbrushes, while Murase's are fountain pens and… a full set of Piccolo Daimaō figurines in different poses.
Machida Mariko receives a limited-edition statuette of Heracles, scaled down to about the length of Tsukisa Sen's forearm.
It's supposedly the work of some up-and-coming sculptor—trendy and quirky—and once you remember Mariko's nickname, you can't resist buying it for her.
Along with the Heracles figure, Tsukisa also ordered a complete set of dumbbells; they'll be delivered to Nanami's place in a couple of days so she can pass them on to Mariko.
So really, when Chitose and Nanami chase Tsukisa around, complaining and pummeling her, it's not entirely without cause.
As for Yuno Gasai… Tsukisa has had her in mind for ages; ever since Yuno decided to take up kendō, she's wanted to give her a blade.
The girl swings the box in her hand.
Tsuda Echizen-no-kami Sukehiro.
(Echizen no kami Sukehiro)
Murasame.
Two shaku seven sun four bu—Rain-Invocation Blade.
65 million yen.
Forged February 1678.
Note: accompanied by a black-lacquered saya with paulownia-hollyhock maki-e and full koshirae in gold.
This antique katana carried the highest price tag at the Ginza exhibition.
Back then the guide had told her with solemn face: "This Child is our most expensive piece.
It's extremely precious and exceedingly rare.
If you take it home, please treat it kindly."
Yuno should like it, right?
Content, the girl strolls off with the sword box.
Moonlight floods the street; the sidewalk beside it is dimmer, the light patchy.
She glimpses two people on a bench under a lamppost.
A Boy of about ten and a girl her own age.
The girl's hair falls past her shoulders; ice-blue irises catch the light, lucid and clear.
Even on that comfortably slatted wooden bench she sits perfectly straight, every inch the well-bred daughter.
Only, the cute school uniform looks frosty and aloof against her chilly expression.
She inclines her head slightly, listening to the Boy beside her; she doesn't pull back the sleeve he's tugging, nodding now, then lost in thought.
As Tsukisa passes she catches a few fragments.
"Grandma keeps disappearing and every time says I'm the one who got lost—but she's the one who vanishes!"
"No, Grandma doesn't have a phone."
"Da Yong! My name's Da Yong! Hehe!"
Tsukisa hesitates, pivots, and heads straight for them.
Her heels clack across the flagstones; the girl on the bench looks up at the sound.
The first sight of Tsukisa stuns her.
She can hardly believe someone so gorgeous exists outside a story.
The stranger wears only a loose hoodie and slacks, posture casual, a mysterious box in hand.
Yet those eyes and the teardrop mole at the corner turn the whole picture alluring; thin lips curve faintly, strands of hair drifting against her cheek.
She reminds the girl of some languid feline.
She adores cats.
Were it not for her youth, this black-haired girl would be called devastatingly glamorous.
Unaware of the silent praise, Tsukisa steps closer. "Excuse me, it's late—shouldn't you be heading home?
Are your parents nearby?
Little guy, where's your family?"
The girl rises and bows slightly, every gesture that of a cultivated young lady, shaped by long training.
Don't ask how Tsukisa knows—this girl is cut from the same cloth as Yuno Gasai.
After all, it took forever to teach Yuno to swear.
Though Nanami calls that effort "inhuman"… "Yukino."
The girl named Yukino speaks coldly; Tsukisa sees her try to express more, then give up for some reason.
She says,
"This Boy is Da Yong. When I met him, his grandmother had already vanished."
Yukino explains the situation.
Tsukisa hums, unsurprised: "A lost Child? I'll walk with you to the police box."
Yukino shakes her head. "His grandma has no phone, and Da Yong isn't a registered name; the police won't be able to help.
Luckily, the Boy remembers the way home."
"I asked—it's not far. I'll take him there."
Tsukisa studies Da Yong with interest.
He's ragged and grimy; catching the pretty lady's gaze, he beams a guileless smile.
"Sis, you're so pretty!" he chirps.
Tsukisa crouches, resting her hands on her knees. "Where do you live?"
The Boy gives a rough idea.
"That's close to my place; I'll see him home. Miss Yukino, turn left here for the subway—you can still catch the last train."
Tsukisa checks her phone, shows Yukino the timetable.
The latter shook her head.
This Miss Yukino was quite stubborn, insisting on personally seeing the Boy home.
"It's not that I don't trust you."
She explained, "It's just that you don't look very... I'm afraid an accident might happen. After all, Da Yong is still a Child. If something happens and you can't handle it, it will be trouble."
'You don't look very reliable.' If you want to say it, just say it directly instead of beating around the bush.
Sen Getsusa rolled her eyes inwardly, feeling more and more that she resembled Yuno Gasai.
"Then let's go together, Miss Yukino?" Sen Getsusa didn't mind. She led the two from the bench to the roadside and patted Da Yong on the head, letting him lead the way for her and Yukino.
The two girls walked side by side onto a small path, bathed in the light of the streetlamps.
This cold young lady, just like her expression, exuded an aura that kept people at a distance.
Her replies to Sen Getsusa's questions were as brief as they could possibly be.
"Miss Yukino, you're in school, right?"
The girl replied, "High school."
"First year of high school?"
"Mm."
"Are you out shopping today? Speaking of which, school is about to start."
The girl replied, "Mm."
For a moment, Sen Getsusa suddenly understood the meaning of the term'simp' that Aki Tomoya often used.
She shook her head with a smile. Seeing that the girl wasn't interested in chatting, she simply closed her mouth, quickened her pace to catch up with Da Yong, and started asking the little Boy all sorts of questions.
Yukino wasn't uninterested; she was actually caught in a tangled internal struggle.
Indifferent to most things in life, the only person she truly cared about was her elder sister.
She cared, yet loathed her, wanting to break free and surpass her.
This wasn't a contradiction.
And just now, she was surprised to find that this girl, whom she had only met once, actually carried a shadow of her sister.
No, strictly speaking, she was different from her sister.
Only their outer shells were similar.
On her sister, there were still faint remnants of the responsibilities and costs the family had imposed on her.
But Sen Getsusa truly radiated an aura from the inside out that made one yearn for her.
Mysterious and... alluring.
For the first time, Yukino discovered that people had colors.
Just as some brilliant physicists in history had said that formulas and experiments had colors in their eyes—Yukino also found that Sen Getsusa possessed a color.
Like that long, diamond-shaped pendant on her cute earlobe.
This girl was enveloped in layers of silver mist.
When she smiled, she seemed to vanish into the silver mist surrounding her, becoming hazy and indistinct.
And she could only approach her cautiously, quickly wrinkling her nose to take a few sniffs before being noticed—and so, she smelled the faint fragrance of bamboo again, a scent that flowed slowly through the mist, indifferent to the approach of others.
Then, she turned her face and smiled at her:
An aged barrel was opened, and the aroma of hops imprisoned for years blew toward her.
The charming beauty mark under her eye also asserted its presence on her face, not diminishing the girl's elegance in the slightest.
The silver mist dispersed, and verdant green unfolded.
Like an elf.
Or like a type of spirit known as a Mei.
Yukino's face flushed slightly.
What... was she thinking?
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