The next morning, a preoccupied Raven woke up much earlier than Yuan Qing.
The sky over Tokyo was only just beginning to brighten, and the grayish-blue morning light leaked through the gaps in the curtains, casting a slender fringe of dawn across the floor of the rental apartment.
Raven stood on the windowsill, staring out at the gradually awakening city, its mind filled with the events of the previous night.
“A tea party themed around Miss Raven…”
It murmured to itself, preening its slightly messy feathers with its beak. After returning last night, it had hardly slept, unable to stop thinking about it.
“Even if it’s put that way, such talent shouldn’t be wasted,” Raven muttered softly, burying its head in its wings and rubbing. “Especially wasted in my hands.”
It remembered the way Yuan Qing fought last night; that certainly wasn’t a level that could be explained away by “just moving around a bit.”
Yet the guy with such talent was currently curled up under his duvet, fast asleep, probably in the middle of some beautiful dream.
“Sigh…” Raven let out a long sigh, its breath condensing into a cloud of white mist in the cold morning air. ‘I should probably contact Mizuho; I feel like her words carry more weight than mine.’
By the time the sky was completely bright, Yuan Qing’s phone rang. It was a message from Mizuho. Yuan Qing clicked on the message.
Mizuho: “Morning. Raven just talked to me about the tea party, and I also think it’s necessary to make some preparations in advance.”
Yuan Qing immediately turned to look at Raven, but Raven turned its back and remained silent, so Yuan Qing had to let it go.
Yuan Qing: “Alright then. Time and place?”
Mizuho: “The sooner the better. Right now. The place will be your home.”
Yuan Qing: “Okay.”
The sunlight outside grew brighter, and another busy day began in Tokyo.
A few pitch-black raven feathers suddenly swirled within the rental apartment. Before Yuan Qing could react, those feathers rapidly converged and surged in the center of the room.
In the next second, Mizuho, dressed in casual clothes, tumbled out from the center of the vortex. She stumbled a couple of steps and nearly crashed into the wobbly folding table.
“Ugh…” Mizuho leaned against the table, her face not looking too good. “The weightlessness of teleportation… it’s a bit unpleasant…”
She whispered to herself, trying to maintain her idol-like dignity, but her legs were still trembling slightly.
Raven flew down onto the back of a chair triumphantly. “How was it? My teleportation is amazing, right? Full marks for concealment! No surveillance or passersby could ever find us!”
“It’s impressive, sure,” Mizuho said, slowly recovering her strength, “but the user experience gets zero points.”
Yuan Qing welcomed her. “Hello, Miss Mine. This is only the second time we’ve met, isn’t it?”
“Ah, hello,” Mizuho said, tidying her curly hair. “It’s a good thing Raven can teleport, otherwise I really wouldn’t know how to come see you.”
Mizuho looked around the cheap rental apartment.
The space wasn’t large, about 30 square meters in total, which perhaps couldn’t be considered small given it was Tokyo. The furniture was simple, maintaining a basic daily life. The arrangement of daily necessities wasn’t exactly orderly, but it wasn’t a complete mess either.
If there was anything eye-catching, it was probably the mess on the bed, with the duvet just tossed to one side. The curtains were currently bulging slightly in the morning breeze.
“What do you think?” Yuan Qing gave a self-deprecating smile. “Doesn’t it really fit this face of mine?”
Mizuho shook her head. “Not at all. If anything… it’s quite cozy. Raven told me before that you’re so attached to your own bed that you refuse to move, and I was wondering what kind of home it would be.”
“Cozy, huh…” Yuan Qing was a bit surprised by that evaluation. “Maybe. As long as I can fall asleep, it’s fine.”
Mizuho smiled slightly and sat down on the stool by the folding table. Even in such a humble environment, her posture remained elegant and composed.
“Well then, let’s get straight to the point,” she said, opening her phone. “Regarding the tea party the day after tomorrow.”
Raven flew over and landed on the tabletop, tilting its head as it watched the two.
Yuan Qing sat on the edge of the bed, casually smoothing his messy, long hair. “Go ahead. What do you need me to do?”
“Take a look at this,” Mizuho said, sliding her finger across the phone to pull up another video. “This is a recording of my training.”
Yuan Qing leaned in. Turning, raising a hand, posing, and giving fan service — every detail was devoid of any excess or hesitation.
“I think… I understand it.” Yuan Qing watched intently.
“At the tea party, they’ll expect ‘Miss Raven’ to show a different side than the one seen in battle,” Mizuho explained. “Gentle, elegant, and occasionally a bit playful — this is the normal state of Magical Girls in non-combat situations; you can’t keep a cold face the whole time.”
Raven stood nearby, stifling a laugh, its wings trembling slightly.
“… I’ll try my best,” Yuan Qing finally forced out.
Mizuho nodded, seemingly unsurprised by the answer. “I’ll send it to you later. You don’t need a one-to-one recreation, but at least capture that feeling. And then…”
Mizuho looked around the room, her gaze landing on the small wardrobe in the corner.
“And then what?”
“Your clothes.”
Yuan Qing looked down at the faded shirt he was wearing. “Is there a problem?”
Mizuho stood up, walked to the wardrobe, and pulled the door open. How should she put it… it was very utilitarian.
“There is a problem,” she said, turning back around. “After the tea party ends, there will be a free social period. You’ll have to talk to other Magical Girls. Everyone still thinks ‘Miss Raven’ is me, and an idol’s fashion sense wouldn’t be this poor.”
“… So?”
“So you need an outfit for going out,” Mizuho concluded. “I’m not asking you to cross-dress, but at least it shouldn’t be something you just threw on.”
Yuan Qing raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, I get it. Buying clothes, right? I’ll go buy them today.”
“Not just today,” Mizuho said, checking the time. “Now.”
“Huh?” Yuan Qing asked in surprise.
“It’s a rare visit for me, so I can help you as a consultant,” Mizuho said with a professional smile. “And, I’m curious to see what my other self looks like in formal wear.”
Yuan Qing instinctively felt that something dangerous was hidden behind that smile.
—
Half an hour later, at a mall in Tokyo.
Under Raven’s disguise, Mizuho and Yuan Qing became a “very eye-catching pair of siblings.” After all, it was just a disguise, and it couldn’t completely make the two of them blend into the crowd.
Yuan Qing stood in the fitting room, looking at himself in the mirror wearing a deep gray casual suit, his expression complicated.
“Come out and let us see you!” Raven’s voice came from outside. It was hidden in Mizuho’s shoulder bag, with only its head poking out.
Yuan Qing took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
Mizuho was sitting on the sofa in the lounge area flipping through a magazine. She looked up when she heard the movement.
Then she froze.
The deep gray casual suit was perfectly tailored, outlining the neutral beauty of his shoulder line and waist. Yuan Qing’s usually lazy temperament was suppressed quite a bit, replaced by a sense of cool elegance.
Although she herself had tried men’s clothing before, seeing oneself through a mirror or a photo was one thing, but seeing another “self” standing right in front of her was quite another.
“How is it?” Yuan Qing pulled at his cuffs uncomfortably. “Is it weird?”
Mizuho didn’t say anything; she just silently raised her phone and snapped a photo.
“Hey.”
“Don’t move,” she said, changing angles and taking a few more pictures. “With this face and these clothes… it’s a waste that you aren’t entering the entertainment industry.”
Raven poked its head out of the bag. “I told you! Yuan Qing is tall and good-looking. With a little grooming, he could fool a bunch of young girls.”
Zhao Le wasn’t quite used to this kind of outfit and was still moving around to adjust to it. “So are you two here to praise me or to help me buy clothes?”
“Both,” Mizuho said, putting away her phone. She stood up, walked to his side, and looked him up and down. “We’ll take this one. Now go try on that black one.”
Yuan Qing sighed and resigned himself to walking back into the fitting room.
‘I am a salted fish, I am a salted fish, I am a salted fish…’
‘I have to accept my fate, I have to accept my fate, I have to accept my fate…’
By the end of the morning, they had visited four or five shops and tried on no fewer than twenty outfits. In the end, Yuan Qing had become numb, letting Mizuho hold various clothes against him while she either nodded or shook her head.