“Hey, you. You’re finally awake.”

A soft, lilting voice broke through the suffocating fog clouding my mind. My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, but I forced them open, blinking slowly as the world came into focus.

The first thing I saw was a girl—her long, silver hair cascading over her shoulders, the faintest hint of pink streaking through her bangs. She smiled at me, a warmth in her eyes that was both comforting and unnerving. There was something about her—something familiar—that sent a strange ache through my chest.

“You were trying to watch the concert, right?” she continued, tilting her head slightly. “Walked right into the rain, same as us… and that girl over there.”

Concert?

The word echoed distantly in my mind, slipping through my thoughts like sand through my fingers. I grasped at it, trying to recall something—anything—but my head throbbed, my memories tangled in a hazy, impenetrable knot.

I finally tore my gaze away from her and looked around. I was sitting on a bus.

The seats were clean, neatly arranged, the soft hum of the engine filling the air. But something was wrong. The windows—dark, empty—not tinted, but void of any scenery. No city lights. No blurred streaks of trees. No endless stretch of road leading somewhere. Just… nothing.

A hollow, creeping dread settled in my stomach.

“…Concert?” I asked slowly, my voice hoarse as if I hadn’t spoken in days.

The girl giggled, a light, airy sound tinged with something melancholic. “I’m just kidding.”

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her lap, studying me with an unreadable expression. Nostalgic? Gentle? A sadness lingered in her gaze, but before I could place it, she spoke again.

“It’s weird to see me, isn’t it?”

I stiffened.

Her uniform. A pristine high school outfit—black and white with an elegant design I knew too well. My heart clenched.

The high school uniform in Luminous Dream. The same one I had spent ¥400 on, carefully folding into my collection like a sacred relic. I couldn’t breathe.

I forced a shaky smile. “…Yeah,” I admitted, glancing away, my fingers digging into my sleeves as I tried to steady my breathing.

Where was I? Why was I here?

I turned to the window again, hoping for something—anything—that could ground me. But the emptiness beyond the glass remained unchanged. The longer I stared, the more it felt like looking into an abyss rather than a simple lack of scenery. A void. An expanse of nothingness that should not exist.

My pulse quickened.

“Where am I…?” I murmured under my breath.

I pushed myself up from the seat, but my limbs feel heavy, my body sluggish and weak. Frustration surged, burning away the confusion for a fleeting moment.

“Aaah! I don’t care anymore!” I threw my hands up, exasperation leaking into my voice.

The girl beside me burst into laughter. Not mocking, just amused. Genuinely amused.

“That’s the spirit!” she cheered.

Before I could react, she suddenly wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace.

I froze.

She was warm. Too warm.

Her grip trembled slightly, and before I could even process what was happening, she buried her face against my shoulder.

Then—

She sniffed me.

A slow, deep inhale, as if memorizing my scent, as if confirming something she had long suspected. Her fingers curled into the fabric of my clothes, gripping tightly—too tightly—as though afraid I would vanish.

“Ah…” she sighed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Finally… Finally, I can meet you. Finally, I can smell you, Mikan.”

A shiver ran down my spine. Something deep inside me stirred—an ancient ache, a feeling I could not name.

And without thinking—without hesitation—

I did the same.

I leaned in slightly, inhaling softly.

She smelled like rain. Like nostalgia. Like something long lost.

“…Me too, Mashiro,” I whispered.

For a moment, we just held each other. No words, no explanations. Just warmth, just existence, just the weight of something I couldn’t yet understand pressing between us.

When we finally pulled apart, I exhaled shakily. My hands trembled as I turned toward the window, hoping—desperately—that I would see my reflection. That I would still be Mashiro.

But staring back at me, was Shimizu Mikan. Long dark hair, tired eyes. The real me.

“…Is this heaven?” I muttered. “Did I finally die?”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Mashiro smiled, but her expression was laced with something sad. Something final. “No,” she said softly. “You were just unconscious.”

I swallowed hard, trying to piece everything together. I had been at the inn. I had eaten dinner. Then darkness. My mind had been swallowed whole by exhaustion, leaving me adrift in this strange, liminal space.

“I don’t get it,” I whispered. “Why…? Why is this happening to me?”

Why?

Just why?

Why did I wake up as Mashiro? Why was I sent to another world? Why—why did I trust him?

Why…?

Mashiro reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Her touch was gentle, almost maternal. “You’ve been asking ‘why’ for a long time, haven’t you?”

I clenched my fists. “Of course, I have. None of this makes sense. None of this should be happening.” My voice cracked. “I was just—just a normal college girl. I had a normal life. And now…”

I gestured helplessly at the bus. The void beyond the windows. The impossible presence of the girl I had admired through a screen—now sitting beside me, real and tangible in a way that defied logic.

Mashiro sighed, leaning back into her seat. “You know, I used to ask the same thing,” she murmured. “Why was I chosen? Why did I have to bear so much? Why did things keep slipping out of my control?”

Her fingers curled into the fabric of her skirt. “I never got an answer. But I kept moving forward anyway.”

I grit my teeth. “That’s not fair.”

“I know.”

Her words were quiet but absolute, pressing against my chest like an unbearable weight. I turned back to the window, staring at my own reflection. My real reflection.

“I don’t even know who I am anymore,” I admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Am I Shimizu Mikan? Or am I Mashiro?”

Mashiro stood up. She stepped closer, standing beside me until our reflections aligned in the glass—two girls. Two names. One truth.

“You’re you,” she said simply. “No matter what name you wear, no matter what world you’re in.”

Her words settled into my heart like a quiet revelation. A truth I wasn’t sure I was ready to accept. I turned to face her, searching for something—an answer, an explanation, a reason for all of this.

“If I’m me…” I hesitated. “Then who are you?”

Mashiro smiled, tilting her head slightly. And this time, her expression was unreadable.

“You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Mashiro reached into the pocket of her high school uniform, her fingers brushing against something hidden within the fabric. Slowly, carefully, she pulled it out and extended her hand toward me. The dim light inside the bus reflected off the small, delicate object resting in her palm.

“Everytime you’re sad, you always reach out for this, don't you?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She smiled, the corners of her lips lifting in the faintest, bittersweet curve. “My first present to you, to commemorate our meeting.”

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. My fingers trembled as I took the ticket from her hands, the paper warm against my skin. For a moment, I simply stared at it, tracing the faded ink, feeling the weight of something I couldn’t quite put into words.

Then, without hesitation, I clenched it between my fingers, and ripped it apart.

The moment the ticket tore, light exploded from the paper, brilliant and blinding. Tiny fragments scattered into the air like shooting stars, dissolving into glowing embers that danced through the bus. The colors around us shifted wildly, morphing from cool blues to deep reds, then into a cascade of shimmering gold and violet.

The fragments floated freely, drifting toward the driver’s seat, the back of the bus, the ceiling, the empty rows of seats. They flickered like fireflies, twisting and spiraling through the air.

They hovered near me, just behind my back, pulsing with a deep, luminous purple. The glow intensified. Before I could react, a holographic screen materialized before my eyes. The glowing text flickered, then sharpened into crisp letters.

[SKILLS]

Mashiro’s Wings Lv. 1(Epic)

EXP: 0/100

Stamina 100/100

Cooldown: 15 seconds.

Description: Summon butterfly wings and fly.

Mashiro watched me intently, her expression unreadable, her silver hair reflecting the strange glow of the screen. Slowly, she stepped closer, her presence enveloping me in a warmth I couldn’t quite understand. Then, she smiled.

“I’ll be your wings,” she whispered.

Before I could even respond—

The bus crashed.

A deafening impact shattered the moment.

Metal screeched, twisting and grinding in a nightmarish way. The force ripped me from my seat, hurling me forward as the bus tilted, tumbling into chaos. Glass shattered, shards slicing through the air like deadly raindrops. My vision blurred, my head spinning as gravity lost all meaning.

Through the haze, I saw a flash of silver—Mashiro’s hand reaching for me, her eyes wide with urgency. But I couldn’t reach her. The impact swallowed me whole.

Then, Nothing.