Mizuho stood in the corner for a while, watching the crowd grow larger and larger.
Sundae’s side was already swamped with work. One round of support banners after another was handed out, and the twin-tailed girl’s livestream never stopped, with the comment section scrolling at lightning speed.
“Miss Yonai! When is Miss Yonai appearing?”
“Miss Kazama should be in the waiting room by now, right?”
“I heard Miss Kazama went missing again right before the match.”
Passing through the crowd and the hallway, the surrounding noise gradually faded.
Most of the audience gathered near the entrance and the stands, making the interior of the venue much quieter. Only a few staff members were busy adjusting equipment, occasionally hurrying past.
Mizuho went into the restroom.
The women’s restroom was quiet, bathed in soft, warm white light. The floor was polished clean, and the air carried a faint scent of disinfectant.
The door to the innermost stall was closed, and the sound of flushing echoed from within.
Mizuho walked to the sink, turned on the faucet, and washed her hands. She then cupped some water and splashed it onto her face; the icy coldness sharpened her senses.
She looked up at herself in the mirror. Her sunglasses had been removed, and a few strands of hair were damp and stuck to her forehead.
‘What are you nervous about?’ Mizuho muttered to herself in the mirror. ‘It’s not like you’re the one fighting.’
Her reflection remained silent, merely staring back with a pair of eyes identical to Yuan Qing’s.
The avatar poked its head out of her bag and looked around. “There’s no one here. Do you want to touch up your makeup?”
“No need. I barely put any on anyway.”
Mizuho took out a paper towel and wiped the water from her face.
The sound of flushing came again, and Mizuho glanced toward that innermost stall.
‘It’s Hifumi,’ the avatar whispered softly. ‘She’s been in there for a while.’
Mizuho said nothing, merely putting her sunglasses back on.
‘I only found out by listening to the staff through the main body,’ the avatar added.
Mizuho took one last look before turning to leave the restroom. For the third time, the sound of flushing echoed, and Hifumi’s shadow was faintly visible through the gap at the bottom of the stall.
—
The warm-up ended. It was time for the battle.
At 9:00 PM sharp.
The lights in the arena abruptly dimmed, and the roar of 12,000 spectators was instantly suppressed into a low hum. Mizuho sat in a corner, clutching the collar of her trench coat.
The spotlights flared to life.
Two pillars of light fell from the domed ceiling—one hitting the east entrance and the other hitting the west.
From the east, Kazama Hifumi walked out.
A white dress, black hair, and a white snake coiled around her arm. Her pace was neither rushed nor slow; every step seemed precisely measured, and her face was devoid of expression.
From the west, Yuan Qing emerged.
A black robe, two wings, and long hair that shimmered with a cold luster under the lights. Raven perched on his shoulder, wings tucked in, uncharacteristically quiet.
“So that’s Miss Raven…”
“The pressure she gives off is so strong…”
“She’s completely different from the last tea party.”
As per tradition, the Familiars from both sides moved to the center of the field. The White Snake extended its tail while Raven extended its claw. They shook, expressing respect for each other, the venue, and the battle itself.
The White Snake released its tail and slithered back to Hifumi’s feet.
Raven flapped its wings and flew back to Yuan Qing’s shoulder.
“That guy’s tail is so cold,” Raven whispered.
Yuan Qing ignored it.
The referee walked to the center of the field and raised his right hand.
“Tokyo Metropolitan Magical Girl Arena, Special Match: Kazama Hifumi versus Miss Raven. This is a best-of-three match. The match ends when one side surrenders, loses the ability to fight, or is knocked out of bounds.”
The voice spread throughout the venue via speakers, and the eyes of 12,000 spectators focused on the two figures in the center.
The referee stepped back two paces and swung his arm down. “Begin!”
The moment the words fell, Hifumi moved.
She was just as fast as their first encounter—no, she was faster.
The very second a cold blade materialized in her palm, her figure had already darted in front of Yuan Qing. The blade slashed upward from below at a tricky angle.
Yuan Qing tilted his body, and the blade grazed the black robe, slicing through a few crow feathers.
He did not retreat. Instead, he reached out with his right hand. The crow feathers hardened, condensing into a thin layer of armor around his wrist as his fingers clawed toward the wrist Hifumi used to hold her sword.
Hifumi flipped her wrist, and the cold blade drew an arc in the air, slicing in from the side. Yuan Qing flapped his wings, drifting backward half a meter.
The blade grazed him once more.
The two figures blurred in the center of the arena, white light and black shadows intertwining. The sounds of metal clashing and crow feathers piercing the air erupted almost simultaneously.
“So fast!” the announcer shouted excitedly. “The first exchange between both sides was completed in the blink of an eye! Miss Raven didn’t take a defensive stance as predicted before the match; instead, she’s taking the initiative to counter!”
The guest commentator couldn’t help but smile. “How will Miss Kazama deal with the growth her opponent has achieved over the past month?”
The initial probe ended. Mizuho and Yuan Qing pulled apart, momentarily pausing their momentum.
“I haven’t seen you for a while, and you’ve grown stronger,” Hifumi’s voice was cold and clear. “But it’s no use. You can’t do it.”
Yuan Qing responded with equal coldness. “To be belittled so suddenly is somewhat unpleasant.”
It was coming.
Hifumi stepped forward again to strike. The White Snake coiled around her wrist flicked its tongue, as if trying to intimidate its opponent.
This time, it was a rapid succession of slashes.
The blade drew arc after arc in the air. Every strike was faster than the last, and every angle was more precarious.
Yuan Qing’s wings flapped continuously as his body shifted and dodged within the flashes of the blade. More and more cracks appeared on the hardened crow feathers, and several cuts were torn into his black robe.
‘Should I avoid her edge?’
One punch struck the side of Hifumi’s blade, knocking it off course.
Two punches forced Hifumi to pull back her sword to block.
Three punches. Seizing the gap while Hifumi was guarding, he stepped forward to close the distance.
“Miss Raven is counterattacking!” the announcer’s voice rose several octaves. “It’s not passive defense; it’s an active counter! She’s using her fists to hit the blade!”
The guest added, “This is very risky. Using bare hands against a sword can lead to injury with the slightest mistake. However, Miss Raven’s rhythm control is excellent. Every punch hits the side of the blade rather than meeting it head-on. She’s using clever force.”
“This style of fighting requires extremely precise judgment. A split second too late and she’ll be cut; a split second too early and it won’t be effective. How is she doing it?”
“Talent.”
At the same time, both Mizuho and Yuan Qing were ready for a head-on confrontation.
“Eagle. Crane.”
“Triple-Body Slash.”
Yuan Qing’s wings flapped violently as he charged forward. Crow feathers detached from his wings and swirled around him. Simultaneously, his speed exploded in an instant—a reinforcement from the Eagle.
Hifumi’s figure split into three. Three afterimages attacked from three different directions at once, each holding a cold blade and each carrying killing intent.
Three flashes of light. One slashed toward the neck, one lunged toward the chest, and one sliced toward the ribs. All of them were real.
Yuan Qing did not stop.
Tucking his wings, his body came to a sudden halt and spun in mid-air. Hardened crow feathers spread from his wrists to his forearms. He gave up on dodging, choosing to meet the attack directly.
His right hand blocked the strike aimed at his neck. The hardened feathers shattered, but the sword was knocked aside.
His left hand caught the blade lunging toward his chest. A sharp surge of pain radiated from his palm, but he held on.
As for the third strike, he didn’t block it.
The moment the blade aimed at his ribs was about to hit, it was ensnared by the swirling crow feathers. Its direction was forcibly diverted, grazing past the black robe.
The entire stadium erupted in an uproar.
“She blocked it!” The announcer’s voice nearly cracked. “Miss Raven caught Miss Kazama’s Triple-Body Slash simultaneously!”
The guest’s voice was also burning with excitement. “It wasn’t a simultaneous catch—she handled each one individually in the same instant!”
Yuan Qing’s Crane had successfully condensed. He was about to strike back.