Chapter 11: The Script And... The Real Liu Yuan
———
The two of them stared at each other in silence for a long moment, then turned their heads away at the same time.
"Let's… let's keep opening presents! There are still so many!" Furina blurted, and without waiting for Liu Yuan's reaction she dove back into the boxes.
She needed a distraction — anything to push that flutter away.
Liu Yuan nodded slightly. After Furina's gaze slid off her, that peculiar heat in her chest ebbed, her thoughts steadied, and she let out a slow, quiet breath, returning to her usual calm.
Furina settled on a small stool, carefully cutting ribbons with a little knife. Gifts were piled high — proof of how popular she truly was in Fontaine. There were cards, trinkets, and many appreciative letters.
Most of the thank-you notes mentioned operas Furina had praised at the Opera House. For those troupes, the Hydro Archon's endorsement was a mark of recognition — no longer a makeshift group, but a troupe seen by Fontaine.
One package, though, felt different.
"'Predestiny'? Strange name… is this a script?" Furina murmured, pulling out a neatly wrapped bundle. Inside sat a letter and a small notebook.
Liu Yuan leaned over, curious, and read the envelope aloud.
"Dear Ms. Furina," she began.
"'My name is Predestiny, an ordinary playwright from a foreign land. I saw your esteemed figure at a trial and inspiration struck.
After much thought I wrote an opera that only Ms. Furina can star in.
I have sent the script to Palais Mermonia as a gift with this letter. If there is a chance, I hope you will perform the piece born from my inspiration.
—A humble playwright, Predestiny'"
The letter was short — oddly laconic, hinting at the sender's temperament.
"What do you think, Liu Yuan? Strange, isn't it?" Furina passed the envelope over. She'd received invitations before, but this one left a prickling sensation — someone seemed to be inviting her into a trap, or into a spotlight that felt too personal.
Liu Yuan didn't answer right away. Hydro curled gently around the envelope as she extended her spirit to examine it.
After a moment she put it down and shook her head. "No strange energy. The envelope is fine."
"And the script?" Furina pointed at the notebook in the box. Liu Yuan checked it the same way and gave another small shake of her head. "No problem. Just paper — plain."
Furina hesitated, curiosity winning out; she reached for the script.
"'The Damsel and the Ghost'…?!"
The title made her freeze. A chill slid across her spine. Was this about her and Liu Yuan?
"Liu Yuan… something feels odd. This playwright — she seems to be able to see you."
"See me?" Liu Yuan rubbed her chin, surprised. She had been by Furina's side for nearly three months and had never encountered anyone who could perceive her existence. Not even Chief Justice Neuvillette — whose own body held terrifying elemental might — had ever detected her. Even standing right before him left Liu Yuan unnoticed.
And now a playwright, from who knew where, might have seen her. The thought startled her.
A slow realization came. "Does this mean I'm real… and not just your imagination? Not a hollow illusion, but me?"
Her voice trembled. If this Predestiny could truly perceive her, then perhaps Liu Yuan wasn't an apparition after all.
Liu Yuan had long puzzled over the basics of her being..
Who am I?
Where did I come from?
Where am I going?
Three simple questions she could not answer. Her memory held only a name — Liu Yuan. Night after night she puzzled over the blank spaces, filling them with books and borrowed knowledge. Reading was how she tried to stitch meaning into that emptiness.
Now — someone else could see her. That alone eased something heavy in her chest.
Furina's expression went slack, caught between disappointment and relief.
She felt disappointed because if Liu Yuan wasn't a hallucination, she could no longer treat her like a private mirror to confide in. Long ago, after prolonged acting, Furina had once broken down and confessed to the version of herself in the mirror — her secret companion had stayed a month and then vanished. That disappearance taught her to hide again, to bottled-up emotions beneath performance.
If Liu Yuan wasn't an extension of herself, then Furina would have to keep those unbearable things to herself — still alone under the mask.
Yet joy bloomed too.
Liu Yuan was real. Not a fragile phantom that might vanish without warning. A true, accompanying presence. Perhaps… one that could stay.
Perhaps Liu Yuan could remain forever by her side.