Chapter 177 | This Magical Girl Is a Bit Strange

Star-trail was curled up in the bed Qiluo had just been lying in, bunching the blanket into a lump and leaving only a small section of its tail exposed.

It slept with absolute, unbothered entitlement.

Qiluo sat on the edge of the bed and looked at it, a complex mix of emotions welling up in her heart.

Why did her other self get to sleep so peacefully and openly?

Oh well. Letting it sleep here meant that if she got bored in the gymnasium later, she could just close her eyes and enjoy the warmth of the bed.

Qiluo pushed the window open, and after confirming no one was around, she smoothly vaulted outside.

Familiar light spilled from her chest, spreading down her limbs to her fingertips, until the final thread of light gathered at the tips of her hair to form her signature highlights.

Sigh, she was getting far too used to transforming into a Magical Girl.

Lightweaver lightly kicked off the windowsill and soared into the air, flying toward the backstage entrance along the shade of the trees behind the gymnasium.

The Wings of Freedom breakroom was the same as always. The door wasn't fully closed, and Night Sakura's endless muttering drifted out from inside.

Lightweaver leaned against the doorframe and listened for a moment.

Night Sakura was saying, “That movement is wrong. You need to raise your hand above your shoulder,” to which Kohinata shot back, “That's exactly what I just did!”

Why were they still arguing? Lightweaver raised her hand and knocked twice on the doorframe.

The room went quiet for a second before the door was flung open. Kohinata still had one leg up in a stretching position while her other hand gripped the doorknob, her face flushed red from looking at her upside down.

“Lightweaver! You're back! Is your friend okay?”

“She's fine now. How are your preparations going?” Lightweaver walked in, closing the door behind her.

“We've been ready for ages! We were just waiting for you!” Kohinata nimbly executed a backward roll from the door, springing up to land steadily in front of the vanity mirror.

Lightweaver leaned against the doorframe, but before she could speak, Night Sakura poked her head out from the side.

She was holding the camera she never went anywhere without, its lens pointed directly at Lightweaver's face.

“You left in such a rush earlier. She couldn't have been just a regular friend, right?”

“...Just a regular friend.” Lightweaver reached out and gently pushed the lens aside.

Night Sakura lowered the camera along with her hand, but her expression clearly said, I don't believe you.

She hoisted the camera onto her shoulder, tilted her head at Lightweaver, and spoke in a strange, teasing tone. “Speaking of which, aren't you a bit too soft on the Association folks? Whether it's Mingyue or Seina, you treat them completely differently compared to us. Last time I stayed up late editing videos, you threatened to lock up my computer. But what about Mingyue?”

“That's because you're still young. If you stay up late, you won't grow tall.”

“You're just biased,” Night Sakura muttered. Resting the camera on her shoulder, she turned around to scroll through the Wings of Freedom's social media accounts.

“Where is the Store Owner?” Lightweaver looked around the breakroom. The folding chair in front of the vanity mirror was empty, and the wheelchair was missing from the corner.

“Amamiya took the Store Owner to the audience seats first. The screeching from the sound check is bad for her ears.”

Night Sakura turned her phone screen toward Lightweaver. It showed a message Amamiya had sent a few minutes ago, along with a photo.

Misa Tachibana was sitting in her usual spot, looking down as she flipped through today's program sheet.

“Anyway, our performance is scheduled for later, so Amamiya will have plenty of time to head back when it's almost time to go on.”

Lightweaver took the phone, glanced at it, turned off the screen, and handed it back to Night Sakura.

The first group to take the stage was the choir, their harmonies swelling and spreading layer by layer beneath the domed ceiling.

Lightweaver stood by the backstage curtain, peering through a gap at the dense crowd of people filling the audience seats.

After the choir exited, the drama club performed a short play—an adapted version of The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter.

The girl playing Kaguya-hime sobbed hysterically on stage, her fake eyelashes peeling off and hanging halfway from the corner of her eye, which actually threw the audience into fits of laughter.

The atmosphere backstage was also warming up. The three members of the Wings of Freedom had already changed into their stage costumes and were waiting behind the side curtains.

Kohinata stood on her tiptoes, peering out toward the audience while muttering under her breath.

The clamor of the audience gradually receded like the tide, leaving only a single spotlight on the stage. As the host announced that the Wings of Freedom were about to perform, a quiet, excited rustling came from behind the side curtains.

“Nervous?” Lightweaver asked, leaning against a nearby prop box.

“How could I not be nervous?! There are so many people out there—I've never stood in front of a crowd this big before!”

Kohinata turned her back to the stage, fanning her flushed cheeks with her hands. She took another deep breath and grabbed Lightweaver's wrist.

Lightweaver looked down at her fingers, which were turning white under the grip, and placed her other hand over the back of Kohinata's, gently patting it.

“Alright, get ready to go on,” Lightweaver said, slipping her fingers out of Kohinata's grasp. “Don't keep the audience waiting too long.”

Qiluo raised her hand, gathering a thread of mana as thin as a strand of hair. The warm white threads of light spun in her palm, finally condensing into three glowing dots the size of rice grains.

Each one was wrapped in a thin halo, glowing faintly in the dim backstage like tiny stars plucked from the sky.

She held the three glowing dots out in front of the trio.

“What... is this?” Kohinata leaned in close to look, her nose almost touching the glowing dots.

“Nothing special. A friend once taught me that sharing a bit of your mana with your companions before they go on stage is a form of blessing.”

Lightweaver stretched her hand out a bit further. “Take them. Consider it a send-off treat.”

Kohinata blankly held out her hand, and one of the glowing dots drifted onto her open palm, settling there like a tiny firefly.

“I'll do my best!”

Night Sakura took hers and carefully placed it against the inside of her mask, right near her forehead.

She reached up to adjust the mask, nodding in satisfaction once she was sure the glowing dot wouldn't fall out. Then, she pulled out her portable camera and pointed the lens at Lightweaver.

“Lightweaver, can I edit that blessing into the promotional video?”

“No,” Lightweaver said, reaching out to push the lens away. “And the second half of that sentence has to be cut.”

“But you're clearly so gentle—”

“Cut it.”

Night Sakura let out a muffled chuckle, hoisted the camera back onto her shoulder, and flashed an "OK" sign over the lens.

She knew Lightweaver too well. Even if she said no, the final say on whether to edit it out belonged to the editor—and the editor was Night Sakura herself.

Pressing the glowing dot a bit firmer against the inside of her mask, she felt a cozy warmth on her forehead, like a pillow warmed by the sun.

Amamiya stood by the curtain, waiting until Kohinata and Night Sakura had finished before stepping forward. She kept her head down, her gaze fixed on the last glowing dot resting on Lightweaver's open palm, staring at it for a long moment.