Mizuho stood in front of the full-length mirror. She had been standing there for a long time.
The lights in the practice room were glaringly bright, casting her shadow onto the wall behind her, its outline sharp and almost cutting.
She was wearing that practice outfit that had been washed many times, her hair tied back with a headband. The stray hairs at her forehead were damp with sweat, sticking to her skin.
Her familiar watched from the side, unable to hold back her concern. “Stop practicing. Rest for a bit.”
Mizuho picked up a towel, wiped her sweat, and let out a long sigh.
“Whew…” She returned to the mirror once more. “Again.”
“Mizuho—” her familiar drew out her name, flying down from the shelf to land on her shoulder. “You’ve already practiced for two hours. You have a shoot tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“Then why aren’t you resting?”
“Just a little longer.” Mizuho looked at herself in the mirror, at the face identical to Yuan Qing’s, and suddenly felt a sense of strangeness.
Now, looking at her reflection, it was like looking at another person.
She lost herself in thought.
“Mizuho?” her familiar called out cautiously.
“Hmm?”
“Are you okay?”
Mizuho sighed. “Sigh… I’m a bit out of it.”
“Did something happen?” The familiar tilted its head.
“No,” Mizuho answered without thinking, so quickly she didn’t even process it herself. Her gaze gradually lost focus as memories crashed over her like a tide. “No…”
She remembered her first audition.
The stage lights felt warm on her skin, the applause sounded wonderful. If she was happy, she would smile. If she failed, her heart would sting, and it hurt so much.
It hurt so much.
To answer her longing to be a Magical Girl, she trained over and over, smiling, singing, dancing. She achieved things, supported her family, but she was always just a little short.
Was it a lack of talent? Or a lack of opportunity? She told herself it was okay if she couldn’t become a Magical Girl. She could still be an idol. Being an idol was good too. The stage lights were warm, the applause sounded wonderful.
She kept practicing, kept dancing, kept smiling.
She told herself, I’ve worked hard enough. She repeated this phrase over and over until she believed it herself.
But really, what was she missing?
Go see for yourself.
Mizuho’s eyes widened. What she saw was only Mr. Luo, Luo Yuanqing, wearing the black robe that should have been hers, spreading the wings that should have been hers, descending from the sky before the Bat Monster.
She remembered Sundae’s smile again. It was a smile that anticipated all the beauty in the world, an innocent and guileless smile. She hadn’t seen it in a long time.
Standing before the mirror, Mizuho unconsciously moved the muscles at the corner of her mouth, trying to smile like Sundae.
“What’s wrong?” Raven patted Mizuho with its wing, concerned.
Only then did Mizuho see that her own smile had, at some point, become one that could only offer relief in response to her own efforts.
“Nothing,” Mizuho said, smiling as she turned around. “Let’s rest for a bit.”
Mizuho walked to the window and pushed it open a crack.
The night wind slipped through the gap, chilly, dispersing some of the indoor heat.
She leaned against the window frame, looking at the night view outside. Tokyo’s lights were as dense and bright as ever, as if they would never go out.
Her familiar flew over and landed on the windowsill, watching her.
“What are you thinking about?”
Mizuho didn’t answer immediately.
She looked at the scattered lights in the distance for a while, then said softly, “What do you think he’s doing right now?”
“Who?”
“Him.”
The familiar paused for a moment, then understood. “Yuan Qing? He’s in special training right now.”
“Special training?”
“Ah, the training I arranged for him, specifically for Hifumi.”
Mizuho took out her phone and checked the time. Eight p.m. Not too late, but not too early either.
“I see…”
She opened her chat history with Yuan Qing. She typed a few words, deleted them, then typed a few more.
Mizuho: “What are you doing?”
After sending it, Mizuho placed her phone on the windowsill, turned around, leaned back against the frame, and looked at the empty practice room.
The full-length mirror reflected her profile. Her practice outfit was a bit wrinkled, her hair a bit messy.
The familiar flew over and landed on her knee, looking up at her.
“Do you think he can win?” Mizuho suddenly asked.
“Who? Yuan Qing?”
“Yeah.”
The familiar thought about it. “Hmm… hard to say. Hifumi isn’t the kind of opponent you can beat just with talent. She has over a decade of accumulated experience. It’s not something you can catch up to overnight.”
“Then why did you arrange special training for him?”
“As a familiar and a coach, I can’t give up on any Magical Girl I take on,” the familiar said matter-of-factly. “Even if it’s just to prove his determination, special training is necessary.”
*
At the same time, at a training ground specifically provided for Magical Girls on the other side of Tokyo.
Yuan Qing had already completed his transformation into his black robe, his wings slightly spread behind him.
Raven flew in mid-air, circled him once, then landed on a rusty metal beam.
“Today’s special training is about getting hit.”
Yuan Qing looked at it expressionlessly. “…Are you serious?”
“Of course it’s not just about getting hit,” Raven patted its chest with a wing. “Look, when you fought Hifumi, her sword grazed you every time. Because you could see her sword, you could judge its general trajectory, but not its precise angle or force.”
“So?”
“So starting today, you’re going to train your perception,” Raven flew up, flapping its wings. Several raven feathers detached from its body and floated in mid-air. “I’ll attack you with these feathers. You have to judge their trajectory, speed, and point of impact before they touch you, and then dodge.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Yuan Qing didn’t say anything, just rolled his shoulders and took a stance. “Start.”
Raven waved a wing, and the first feather shot out.
It was slow.
Yuan Qing sidestepped, the feather grazing past his black robe.
“Too slow,” he said.
Raven ignored him. The second feather shot out immediately after, a bit faster than the first.
Yuan Qing still dodged it easily.
The third one, faster.
The fourth one, faster.
By the tenth feather, the speed was almost too fast for the naked eye to follow. Yuan Qing’s body began to lag behind his judgment. One feather grazed his arm, cutting a slit in the black robe.
“Does it hurt?” Raven asked.
“No.”
“Then continue.”
The feathers became more numerous, faster.
Yuan Qing dodged, sidestepped, ducked, and slid through the漫天飞舞的黑色碎片, each movement consuming stamina. His breathing became ragged, fine beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
The twentieth.
The thirtieth.
The fiftieth.
Raven watched Yuan Qing from mid-air, the frequency of its wingbeats increasing. Feathers poured down like rain.
“Can you still hold on?” it asked.
“Yes.”
Yuan Qing’s reply was short but steady.
Raven didn’t ask again, just increased the attack frequency.
The seventieth.
The ninetieth.
The one hundredth.
Yuan Qing was on one knee, breathing in small, controlled gasps. His black robe had several more slits, but none were deep, all just grazes.
“How do you feel?” Raven asked.
“Again.” Yuan Qing looked up.
“That won’t do,” Raven patted Yuan Qing’s knee with its wing. “You just hunted so many monsters today and sparred with other Magical Girls for an hour. It’s too early to go again now.”
“Then I’ll wait a bit.”
Yuan Qing pushed himself up from his knee, stretching his sore arms.
Raven watched as Yuan Qing walked away. “Don’t forget, you still have to run back later. You don’t want to see Sundae looking like this, do you?”
“…”
Yuan Qing didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned against the wall and sat down, pulling out his phone.
There was a message on the screen, sent by Mizuho half an hour ago.
Yuan Qing: “Just finished training.”
The reply was sent out, and within seconds, the dialog box showed “typing.”
Mizuho: “Still training this late?”
Yuan Qing: “Yeah.”
Mizuho: “Is it effective?”
Yuan Qing: “A little.”
Mizuho: “That’s good.”
Mizuho put down her phone and got up to continue her training.