The moonlight poured down like water on the silent cemetery, plating each tombstone with a silver outline.
Celestial Weave sat on her own tombstone, her translucent legs swinging gently. She rested her chin on her hand, watching T.M. Opera O set up her pile of junk. After a bit of bustling, she finally spread out a blanket, then took out a bottle labeled "Plum Wine" and a pair of cups. After pouring the "wine," she addressed the air in front of her. "It is said that only kings can discuss heroes over wine! This is also recorded in the 'Romance of the Three Kingdoms'!"
"Are you even old enough to drink?" Celestial Weave said helplessly from her perch on the tombstone. But she quickly saw that the character for "wine" on the bottle was crooked, clearly added later with a black marker. "And you're even altering product names. Are you a child?"
T.M. Opera O, of course, couldn't hear her muttering. She took a sip of her plum juice and sighed theatrically. "Narita Top Road, Admire Vega—strong, but can they be called heroes?" After asking, she immediately switched to a serious expression, lowered her voice, and answered herself, "No, no. They are of ordinary G1 caliber. Strong, yes, but far from heroes!" As she spoke, she gestured grandly, like an actor in a historical drama.
"Meisho Doto, his amazing burst of speed in the Takarazuka Kinen—can he be called a hero?"
"Doto is too soft. He has the ability but lacks the will to win. No, no!"
"Jungle Pocket, who won the Derby and defeated the Hegemon King within a year—can he be called a hero?"
"Jungle Pocket's wish has been fulfilled. After losing to Manhattan Cafe in the Tenno Sho (Spring), his spirit waned, and he never won another championship. No, no!"
T.M. Opera O talked to herself, sometimes frowning in inquiry, sometimes laughing heartily. The moonlight stretched her shadow long, as if this empty, silent night had become her exclusive stage.
"Then, who in this world can be called a hero?" Her voice suddenly dropped. She raised her cup, her幽幽purple eyes staring intently ahead. "Only you and I."
The plum juice was sprinkled into the air, passing right through Celestial Weave's legs.
After saying that, T.M. Opera O was silent for a long time. Her eyes were downcast, her usually perky horse ears lay limply on her head. Her bright orange-red hair, which usually shone like the sun, looked a bit lonely in the moonlight.
Celestial Weave had never seen her like this. The T.M. Opera O she knew was always full of spirit and confidence. Even under immense pressure, she could smile freely, as if nothing could ever bring her down, just like a true Hegemon King. But the one sitting before her now was not a Hegemon King. Just a girl.
After a long while, T.M. Opera O finally spoke again, her voice somehow hoarse. "In the Arima Kinen, I finally understood the last thing you said to me."
"No victory is ever a given."
"I didn't understand then, so I lost to you, who had a stronger will."
"But..." She suddenly bit her lower lip. Celestial Weave could see her shoulders trembling slightly. "I understand what you said now, but why can I no longer stand under the same sky as you?" Her voice was intermittent, as if containing a sob, but she kept her head bowed, so her expression was hidden.
"Run with me again..."
"It was just one match..."
"That shouldn't be the end for us."
She leaned her head against the stone, as if resting against Celestial Weave's chest. "Only you are worthy of being the Hegemon King's rival."
T.M. Opera O would never know that at this moment, Celestial Weave was kneeling before her, her translucent arms open in an embrace. The moonlight passed through her body, leaving only T.M. Opera O's shadow on the ground, as if they were really hugging.
Right by her ear, Celestial Weave whispered, "To be the Hegemon King's rival... I am honored."
After who knows how long, in the gentle evening breeze, T.M. Opera O, leaning against her, gradually closed her eyes. The plum juice seemed to have really been wine for her, as she had fallen asleep. Celestial Weave could see the corners of her mouth twitching upwards, as if she were having a good dream.
She might be sleeping peacefully, but it created a problem for the one watching. It was late at night. Sleeping in the wind like this, she would definitely catch a cold. But she couldn't touch anything in this world; she couldn't cover her with the blanket. She could only try to touch the blanket again and again, as if trying to trigger some metaphysical event.
But luckily, her metaphysics seemed to have worked. A sudden gust of wind blew the blanket up and landed it perfectly on T.M. Opera O. Seeing this, Celestial Weave was relieved. She sat beside her, looking at her sleeping face, and murmured, "Lucky girl."
But she was also grateful for her visit. Staring at her sleeping face was much more interesting than staring at leaves, not to mention that she would occasionally utter a chunibyo-filled line in her sleep.
When the first ray of morning sun pierced through the thin mist and landed on T.M. Opera O's eyelashes, the fine golden light made her blink. She subconsciously reached up to rub her eyes, but her fingertips touched a soft fabric. The blanket that had been draped over her was still cool with the night dew, but it felt incredibly warm in her palm.
Holding the blanket, she subconsciously looked back. "Did you cover me?"
Just then, a gentle breeze blew past, as if in response to her question.
"I see—"
"I'll bring real plum wine next time!" She smiled as if she had received an answer. Using the blanket as a bag, she packed up all her things, picked it up, and walked towards the sun.
"My rival! Don't feel lonely because you miss me too much! Hahahahahaha!" she shouted, waving back at Celestial Weave without looking.
Watching the birds startled from the bushes by her loud laughter, Celestial Weave waved back helplessly. "I didn't say anything."
"Who on earth are you talking to?"
After seeing her off with her eyes, she returned to her tombstone. She felt she was beginning to understand the system's logic. If her guess was correct, there should be two more people coming to see her. All she had to do now was wait patiently and count the leaves.
Sitting back in her previous spot, she looked up and said to herself, "What number was I on again?"
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