Wura

In Edo, there was a place she loved. A place she retreated to when everything became too heavy.

A solitary hill, the only one in the area, rising two hundred meters above the rest of the world.

From up there, the sea stretched out in an endless blue expanse. The colorful rooftops of the houses below formed a radiant patchwork under the sun. The cool wind brushed her face, carrying with it the illusion of unchained freedom. Here, she could forget—if only for a moment.

Wura struck, spun, dodged, lashed out. Her opponent? A great kapok tree, its tangled roots serving as obstacles, its branches like invisible strikes. It wasn’t a real battle, but at least she was moving. At least she could try to escape the images that haunted her.

It had been a week. A week since the witch.

Sézune had burst into rage when she learned what had happened. She had covered all of Morio’s hospital expenses. It would take him a month before he could stand again. And Wura… Wura still blamed herself.

Footsteps.

She leapt back, her staff clenched tightly in her fingers.

— I knew I’d find you here.

Ciel’s light voice cut through the air.

Wura instinctively dropped her guard. She looked away.

— I saw Morio at the hospital. Ciel drew closer and crouched near a bush, picking a few small black fruits with velvety shells. She cracked one, slipped the yellow flesh into her mouth, then went on: He was doing better. He wanted you to know that everything’s fine.

— He wouldn’t be there if I hadn’t gone out that night.

Silence. Ciel finally sat down at the foot of a tree with thick roots.

— We can’t change the past, Wura. Stop punishing yourself.

She didn’t answer. She sat beside her and laid her staff on the ground.

— Sorry for calling you selfish. I just…

— Were afraid.

Ciel chuckled softly under her breath, eyes fixed on the fruits in her palm.

— Yes. Wura lowered her head. And with everything that’s happened, I don’t know where I stand anymore. Everything feels so complicated, so frightening… If you ever left, I’d be lost for good.

A burst of laughter.

Wura felt a stab in her chest.

— What’s so funny? I thought you’d understand. But all you do is make fun of me.

— Wura, wait.

Ciel’s tone softened.

— I’m sorry. But sooner or later, we’ll have to part ways and follow our own paths.

She hesitated.

— There’s something I need to tell you.

At that very moment, her gaze froze above Wura’s head. Her complexion paled.

— LOOK OUT!

In one swift motion, she grabbed Wura and pulled her aside.

A shadow slammed down exactly where she had been a second before.

The creature was massive. A giant black caterpillar, as big as ten oxen put together. Three concentric rows of razor-sharp teeth gleamed inside its gaping maw.

Wura’s heart skipped a beat.

But whatever it was—

She snatched up her staff.

— Wura!

Ciel stepped in front of her, arm slightly raised in a protective gesture.

— We have to run!

Wura didn’t move. Her grip on her improvised weapon only tightened.

Ciel shot her a worried glance—then stiffened.

She had understood.

Running wasn’t an option. Not this time.

The enormous beast charged.

— Fool! Ciel gritted her teeth. I told you to run!

She pulled a tiny crimson wand from her pocket, inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. A white glow flared in her eyes.

Her knees bent slightly, the wand firm in her grasp.

The monster was rushing forward at terrifying speed, its maw opening wider and wider.

Beads of sweat ran down Wura’s forehead. Her heart was hammering wildly.

She steadied her grip.

Come. I’m waiting.

Suddenly, the beast froze.

A shimmering line split it from top to bottom in the blink of an eye.

Then, it fell apart in two halves.

Both sides collapsed heavily to the ground.

Breathless, the girls stood frozen, stunned.

The light faded from Ciel’s eyes.

A hooded figure emerged from the tall grass.

— Miss Marie? Ciel stammered.

— You know her? Wura whispered, still dazed.

— Yes. We met a week ago. She’s…

The figure lowered her hood.

A long black curly ponytail tumbled down her back. Her skin, as pale as Ciel’s, reflected the afternoon light.

— Marie Lavo. But everyone calls me Miss Marie.

Her smile stretched wider.

— And this is the part where you thank me for saving your lives.

She waited.

Wura blinked.

Did she even realize how rude it was to ask for thanks?

Ciel thanked her first, without hesitation. Wura, on the other hand, averted her gaze before muttering reluctantly:

—…Thank you.

— Relax! I’m joking. She burst out laughing. Oh, Wura, loosen up a little!

Ciel giggled. She seemed to shine ever since Miss Marie had arrived.

Wura frowned slightly.

— This is the first time I’ve seen you in Edo…

— That’s because she came from Petro less than a month ago, Ciel explained.

She turned her head toward Miss Marie, a strange gleam in her eyes.

— She’s the first mixed-blood like me I’ve seen since I was born. It was… quite a shock.

Her gaze darkened slightly.

— She’ll return to Petro once her mission here is over. There, according to her, exists a more bearable world for people like us.

She didn’t need to say more.

Wura understood what she meant.