Night Sakura rolled off the sofa and reached out to grab the bag of cookies on the coffee table that Kohinata hadn't touched yet.
Kohinata was buried in her own bag, rummaging for the last piece, while Amamiya leaned against the sofa armrest with her eyes closed, her fingers quietly creeping toward the cookies.
Night Sakura raised her hand higher and gently tapped the back of Amamiya's hand with her knee.
“This bag is for the Store Owner. Go fight Kohinata for your own share.” She walked around the coffee table, holding the bag in her hand.
She knocked twice on the door with the back of her hand and pushed it open a crack.
Misa Tachibana sat behind the desk, the glow from her laptop screen reflecting on her face.
Several reports were spread across the desk, with a half-empty cup of cold coffee sitting beside them.
Night Sakura pushed the door wide open, holding up the bag in her hand and shaking it.
“Lightweaver was here and brought cookies. This is your share.”
She set the bag next to the reports, casually moving the cold coffee cup further away.
Night Sakura didn't leave right away. Resting her elbows on the armrests of the chair and cradling her chin, she watched Misa Tachibana open the bag, take out a moon-shaped cookie, study it for a moment, and finally pop it into her mouth.
“...Store Owner, do you want to go to the school festival too? It's open to the public anyway, and you know Tachibana High School better than I do. You used to be a student there.”
Misa Tachibana moved the cookie bag aside, revealing several reports pressed underneath, seemingly hesitating on whether to answer.
“I'll think about it.”
“Aww, come on~ The school has barrier-free access, so wheelchairs can get through. Besides, with us around, if anything goes wrong, Kohinata can just hoist you up, wheelchair and all, and run.”
“And—” Night Sakura pointed at the half-eaten cookie in her hand. “You've already eaten the cookies Lightweaver baked herself. She'll be running a booth at the school festival. Let's go try to guess who she is!”
Hearing Night Sakura's words, Misa Tachibana stopped chewing.
She put the remaining small bite of cookie into her mouth, chewed it slowly, took another sip of the cold coffee, and then shifted her gaze from Night Sakura's face to the desk lamp at the corner of the table.
“...Lightweaver wouldn't want us to guess who she is.”
“I know. It's not like we're actually going to try and guess~”
Misa Tachibana didn't answer whether she wanted to go or not.
She folded the seal of the cookie bag, placed it in a spot where it wouldn't be knocked over, and rested her hands back on the armrests of her wheelchair.
“...I haven't been back to Tachibana High School in a long time. The last time was my graduation ceremony.” She leaned back against the chair, the wheelchair letting out a soft creak.
Night Sakura didn't rush her.
“There's a row of ginkgo trees by the sports field. Go in through the main gate, turn right, go past the gymnasium, and it's under the third ginkgo tree.”
Misa Tachibana's voice was very soft. “The year I graduated, I buried a time capsule near the roots. It's nothing valuable—just a few photos, a club group photo.”
Night Sakura blinked.
“When I buried it, I thought that if I came back to dig it up over a decade later, maybe I'd still be able to remember what it felt like to be a Magical Girl.”
“Then my legs stopped working, and after that, too many things happened. Every time I thought about going back, I'd end up deciding against it.”
Night Sakura squatted beside the wheelchair and pulled up the blanket that had slipped from Misa Tachibana's knees.
“We don't even know if that ginkgo tree is still there,” Night Sakura said, looking up at her, the eyes beneath her mask sparkling with a glittering light.
“But we can check for you. If the tree is still there, we'll stand next to it for a bit. If it's gone, we'll go to the administration office and look up the old maps. Anyway, Kohinata runs fast; the administration office won't be able to stop her.”
Misa Tachibana looked down at Night Sakura. After a long silence, she reached out and gently patted the top of her head.
“...Don't cause trouble for the administration office.”
...
Qiluo leaned against the utility pole at the entrance of the alley, holding the last bag of cookies in her hand. The bag swayed gently in the wind, its ribbon tails brushing against her wrist with every movement.
She hadn't thought much of it when she gave them to those idiots at Wings of Freedom, and leaving a bag for the Store Owner was just a casual gesture.
But this bag was indeed saved on purpose.
She raised the bag to her eyes, looking through the translucent wrapping paper at the misshapen cookies inside.
She didn't know why she had saved a portion for Mingyue.
Maybe it was because during those two conversations in the alley, the way Mingyue looked at her always carried something she didn't want to look into too deeply.
Or maybe it was just because the moon was beautiful tonight.
This girl had been chasing her for so long. Though she didn't say it aloud, she always looked at Qiluo with a “you owe me” look that made her feel oddly guilty.
Since she was in a good mood today, she'd treat this as occasional after-sales service.
How should she give the cookies to her? Contact her directly?
Lightweaver never actively sought out Mingyue; it was always Mingyue who chased after her.
But... if she released just a tiny hint of her mana aura, she would probably catch the scent and rush over immediately, right?
She lowered the bag, closed her eyes, and gently nudged a sliver of Lightweaver's mana out of her body.
That sliver of warm white mana drifted along the alley and blended into the night wind, as light as a wisp of smoke.
But she knew that in some corner of this area, there was someone whose sensitivity to this mana fluctuation surpassed everyone else in this city.
One minute was neither long nor short.
It was long enough for her to calculate the accounts of tonight's cookie distribution in her head.
When she counted to two minutes, she still hadn't arrived.
Qiluo switched the cookie bag to her other hand, using her free fingers to lightly tap against the utility pole.
Tapping randomly just to make the wait less boring—if she didn't show up soon, she would eat her share too.
When she reached three—
There was no sound of rushing wind in the sky, no deep blue figure leaping down from above the streetlights.
No scythe carved an arc through the air, and those deep blue eyes didn't land two paces away from her, kicking up a ring of dust.
The entrance of the alley was empty; only the night wind rolled a dry leaf past her feet.
She usually came so quickly. Why was she so slow today?
I've already counted to three minutes!
Could it be that she had released too little mana and the other girl hadn't sensed it? Or was she taking a bath? Or maybe... she just didn't want to see her today?
“Ten more seconds,” she muttered through gritted teeth, looking at the cookie bag.
Ten, nine, eight—
By five, she was already starting to doubt if tonight's moon had given her some sort of illusion. By three, she decided she would never save cookies for Mingyue again. By two, she began formulating nasty remarks to say tomorrow in her head.
Fine, I'll give you a three-second countdown.
If you still don't show up, I'll eat this bag of cookies myself and send her a message mocking her for being as slow as a snail.
“Three,” she whispered the number, just loud enough to reach the ears of the other person who had just arrived at the corner of the alley entrance.
“Two.” She raised a second finger, her lips curling up inexplicably as the hint of disappointment hidden well by the night began to fade.
“One—”
“What are you counting?” A familiar voice drifted down from above.
Rate on N.U.
