We are only brief visitors in this mortal world; sooner or later, we will return.
Returning the body borrowed from God to the earth…
She had already lost track of how many times she had done this.
Raise hand, turn, hit the mark.
Raise hand, turn, hit the mark.
Sweat slid down her cheeks, dripping onto the floor and gathering into a small puddle. Her gym clothes were soaked, clinging to her body, and her breathing had long since grown ragged.
But she didn’t stop.
She couldn’t stop.
If she stopped, she would start thinking about things she shouldn’t.
Thinking about Hifumi’s words.
Thinking about Sachiko’s words.
Thinking about Sundae’s face, which was always bright and sparkling.
Thinking about Yuan Qing’s wings, which seemed to blot out the sun.
Raise hand, turn, hit the mark.
In the mirror, her hair was a mess, her face was flushed, and her makeup had long since smeared. But those eyes were still bright—at least, they looked bright.
She had practiced for over ten years and had long ago learned how to keep her eyes bright. No matter how tired, how sad, or how much she wanted to cry, as long as she stood before others, her eyes had to be bright.
She couldn’t cry.
If she cried, her makeup would be ruined.
If she cried, her eyes would swell.
If she cried, everything she had worked so hard to maintain would begin to crumble.
This was the basic professional requirement of an idol.
Raise hand, turn, hit the mark.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Finally, Mizuho stopped. She braced her hands against her knees, gasping for air as sweat dripped onto the floor with soft, rhythmic thuds.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror, staring at the disheveled, exhausted figure that looked like it was about to collapse.
Then, she smiled.
That smile was exactly the same as the one she showed the cameras—standard and impeccable.
“Incredible,” she whispered while smiling.
The smile was fake, but she needed it.
Her clone was huddled on a shelf in the corner, half-asleep.
Mizuho straightened up and walked to the window. Outside, the night was deep. The distant sky was pitch black, with only a few scattered lights flickering in the distance.
Just as she was about to close the window and return to her practice, she heard a sudden fluttering sound.
Mizuho looked up and saw Raven landing on the windowsill, clutching a bottle in its claws.
It was a sports drink.
“Raven?” she stammered, startled. “How did you—”
Raven placed the drink on the windowsill and landed. “Yuan Qing bought it. Told me to bring it over.”
Mizuho knit her brows slightly, feeling confused.
“He said,” Raven cleared its throat, mimicking Yuan Qing’s tone, ” ‘Give it to her. She needs it.’ “
Mizuho looked at the bottle, then back at Raven, momentarily unsure of what to say.
“That’s it?” she asked.
“That’s it,” Raven nodded.
Mizuho laughed.
“Haha… is he a fool?” she said, picking up the drink. “Sending a bird to deliver a drink in the middle of the night. Wasn’t he afraid I’d be asleep?”
“He asked,” the night wind ruffled Raven’s feathers. “I told him you’d definitely still be practicing.”
“How would you know? Oh… the clone is watching.”
She glanced back at her dozing clone.
“You’re just that kind of person,” Raven said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You won’t give up no matter what. That’s why you’re so focused on Sundae, right?”
Mizuho stared at the bird, suddenly at a loss for words.
She twisted the cap open and took a sip. The drink was cold with a faint sweetness.
It was a very ordinary sports drink, the kind found in any convenience store, but drinking it right after practice made it taste better than anything else.
“What about him?” Mizuho asked.
“Running,” Raven replied. “He’s running back.”
“Running back?”
“Yeah. Running back from the cafe. Said he wanted to train his endurance,” Raven paused. “Did you know? He runs every day now, fights monsters every day, and pushes himself to the limit. The guy who used to be impossible to wake up now gets out of bed at 5:30 AM on his own.”
“…”
“He’s working hard. He wants to win,” Raven added.
Mizuho took another sip of the drink.
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I can tell.”
Raven tilted its head at her.
Then, Raven flew away.
At 1:00 AM, Mizuho finally stopped.
She collapsed directly onto the floor, her back against the mirror, gasping for breath. Sweat slid down her cheeks and dripped onto the floor, forming a small pool.
The clone had woken up at some point and flew over to land on her knee.
“Are you okay?” it asked cautiously.
Mizuho didn’t speak. She simply raised her hand and shook the drink bottle.
It was still half full.
She unscrewed the cap and took another sip. Cold, sweet, and just right.
“Hey,” she said suddenly. “What do you think he’s doing right now?”
The clone blinked. “Who?”
“Him.”
“Oh, Yuan Qing,” the clone checked Yuan Qing’s status through Raven. “He’s asleep. It’s so late, after all.”
“Right,” Mizuho nodded. “He has to get up early tomorrow to fight monsters.”
“What about you?” the clone asked. “Don’t you have work tomorrow?”
“Yeah. A photoshoot at 8:00 AM.”
“Then why aren’t you sleeping yet?” the clone chirped loudly.
“I’ll sleep after resting for a bit,” Mizuho leaned against the mirror and closed her eyes. “Let me just stay like this for a little longer.”
The clone watched her and didn’t push further.
*Sooner or later, we will return…*
***
At 5:30 AM, Yuan Qing opened his eyes right on time.
The sky outside wasn’t fully bright yet. Gray-blue morning light leaked through the gaps in the curtains. He sat up and got straight out of bed.
Raven was still asleep on the windowsill, its head tucked under a wing.
Yuan Qing walked over and poked it.
“Get up.”
Raven didn’t react.
He poked it again.
“Teleport.”
Raven stirred, grumbling discontentedly, “Five more minutes…”
“No.”
Yuan Qing reached out and pinched its beak.
“Caw!” Raven snapped awake instantly. “Alright, alright! I’m up! Can’t a bird get some sleep?”
Yuan Qing let go. Raven flapped its wings and took flight, and then, black feathers billowed.
At 6:10 AM, the third monster fell.
Yuan Qing stood amidst the ruins, his breathing slightly hurried but far less labored than a few days ago. The running and continuous battles over the past few days had significantly improved his physical condition.
Raven perched on his shoulder, panting. “The… third one… were you faster today?”
“Yes.”
“Still not enough, right?”
“Yes.”
The feathers billowed once more.
At 6:40 AM, the fifth one.
At 7:20 AM, the eighth one.
At 8:00 AM sharp, the tenth one.
Yuan Qing stood upon the ruins of the final battlefield, watching the sun rise in the distance. Golden sunlight spilled over him, making his black robes flutter slightly.
“Are there any more monsters in the Tokyo metropolitan area?” Yuan Qing asked.
“No more,” Raven’s voice was hoarse from the effort. “We’ve met the quota for today. Overworking isn’t good for you.”
“I know.”
Yuan Qing remained where he was, watching the rising sun. Golden light bathed him as his robes swayed.
Raven sat on his shoulder, and only after catching its breath did it speak. “How do you feel today?”
“Fine,” Yuan Qing replied.
“Compared to yesterday?”
“A little faster.”
Raven nodded and said nothing more.
Just then, Yuan Qing’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out to see a message from Mizuho.
Mizuho: “Finished for today?”
Yuan Qing: “Yeah. Ten of them.”
Mizuho: “Where are you now?”
Yuan Qing: “Outside.”
Mizuho: “I’ll see you at your place in a bit.”
Raven leaned over to take a look. “What did she say?”
“She’s coming to my house.” Yuan Qing turned off the phone.
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
Raven tilted its head, looking puzzled.