–+–
Coming back to herself didn’t happen in an instant, like flipping on a switch.
It felt more like an old machine warming up in the dead of winter.
Sandrone’s head felt heavy and dull, as if someone had stuffed it full of soaked cotton.
The world before her eyes blurred behind a layer of frosted glass, with only a few broken spots of light swaying through it.
She blinked on instinct, trying to clear her sight.
A faint smell of maintenance fluid hung in the air, mixed with… some kind of cool, clean scent, like winter mint?
“…A dream?”
Sandrone murmured under her breath, her voice dry.
She raised her right hand without thinking and pressed it to her aching temple.
At the same time, to prop up her heavy upper body, she braced her left hand at her side.
Her palm did not meet the smooth rub of bedsheets she expected.
Instead, her fingertips sank into something warm, soft, and springy.
This feeling… wasn’t right.
Sandrone’s brain froze for a second.
By reflex, her fingers curled and gave that softness a light squeeze.
“Mmm…”
A tiny, breathy sound, like a sigh drifting down from the clouds, slipped into Sandrone’s ear.
It was sweet, lazy, and still thick with sleep.
That voice… why did it sound a little like Columbina?
“!!!”
The absurd thought had only just surfaced when Sandrone jolted as if shocked by electricity.
Every hair on her back stood on end.
She didn’t even have time to care about grace.
She yanked her left hand back and scrambled toward the other side of the bed like a startled cat, stopping only when her hand touched the edge.
“Co… Columbina?!”
Sandrone clutched the collar of her clothes with one hand, her chest rising and falling.
Her face, which was usually so cold, flushed bright red from shock and a sudden rush of shame.
Only then did the “presence” she’d disturbed begin to move.
Black hair with deep red tips spilled across the pillow like a waterfall, then slid as Columbina slowly pushed herself upright.
She seemed to be drifting somewhere between dream and waking.
Her head dipped with each breath, like a sleepy white dove.
“Mm…”
She made a soft, meaningless sound, as if confused by the noise of morning.
“Y-y-you… why are you in my bed?!” Sandrone’s voice climbed a little from nerves.
Her finger shook as she pointed at the other girl, while her mind turned into a bowl of paste.
“Explain! Why are you in my bed?!”
At that moment, Columbina stopped swaying.
Facing Sandrone, who looked almost like a little steam-powered princess about to overheat, she slowly lifted her head.
The eyes that were usually hidden beneath a lace blindfold, as if she were always asleep, opened without warning.
A pair of pale pink eyes, so clear they brought peace just by looking at them, held no trace of impurity.
Deep within those pupils seemed to rest a cold full moon, glowing with a dreamlike, hollow light.
One glance was enough to quiet the heart.
Time seemed to stretch out in that instant.
“You…” Sandrone’s mouth parted a little.
The questions on the tip of her tongue jammed in her throat, replaced by pure shock.
“Why are your… eyes open?”
Columbina didn’t answer.
She only watched Sandrone in silence, her gaze filled with a strange focus and softness, as if she were looking at a treasure she had lost and found again.
As if she were checking whether the person before her was real.
That gaze was far too direct, and it made Sandrone feel cramped for no reason.
She took a deep breath and forced her reason back into control, trying to cover up her loss of composure.
“…Tch.”
Sandrone turned her head aside and folded her arms, putting on her usual proud look.
Still, her wandering eyes kept sneaking back toward those beautiful ones.
“If you’re awake, stop pretending to be mute. Also, didn’t you say you didn’t like looking at this false sky? Why are you opening your eyes now?”
She gave a cold snort and spread her right hand, her tone sharp.
“Honestly, if you barely use those eyes anyway, then instead of wasting them, why not let me take them apart and—mmph?!”
Before she could finish, a wave of fragrance swept in.
Columbina closed the distance in an instant.
Before Sandrone could react, a soft body crashed into her arms.
Her center of balance vanished, and with a startled cry, she fell flat onto the bed beneath her.
Columbina followed her down, wrapping both arms tight around Sandrone’s waist.
Her chin rested in the hollow of Sandrone’s neck, and her whole body clung to her like melting sugar, leaving no space between them.
“Co-Columbina! Wh-what are you doing?!”
Sandrone’s heartbeat, which had only just calmed, shot straight back into the red zone.
Her whole body went stiff.
Her hands hovered in the air like two cat paws with nowhere to go, wanting to push Columbina away but somehow not daring to use force.
“Has your brain shorted out?! Why are you hugging me so tight all of a sudden?! You’re crushing me! Let go!”
Even though she kept snapping and even bared two small pointed canines in her flustered anger, Sandrone didn’t actually throw the person in her arms away.
Her body only stayed a little tense.
“I wanted to look at you more.”
Columbina’s voice was very soft, but clear.
Her warm breath brushed against Sandrone’s sensitive ear, sending a numb shiver through her.
“Look… look at me?”
Sandrone felt her cheeks heat up so fast they could probably fry an egg.
“Hah? What kind of reason is that…? Look all you want. I’m right here, not running away! But can you get up first? I can’t breathe with you on top of me, idiot!”
She finally found a little strength and pressed both hands against Columbina’s lower stomach, trying to push this heavy piece of clingy candy off her.
“Hurry up and let go! You’re so heavy!”
Columbina obediently released her arms, propped up her upper body, and slowly moved aside.
Sandrone finally escaped that suffocating hug and sat up in a sorry state.
Before she could straighten her messy collar, Columbina’s long, fair hands settled on her shoulders.
Those dreamlike pink eyes stared right at Sandrone, calm and soft, yet somehow seeming to see through everything.
“Sandrone,” Columbina tilted her head and asked in a calm voice, “are you still going to say those harsh things to me next?”
Before Sandrone could react, Columbina narrowed her eyes a little, raised her hand, and brushed her fingertips over the top of Sandrone’s head, like she was soothing a bristling cat.
“It’s all right. As long as it’s you saying them, I like hearing them.”
“Enough!”
Sandrone felt like she was being executed in public.
With a smack, she slapped Columbina’s hand away, angry from embarrassment.
“What is wrong with you today? Did you take the wrong medicine? Or did you sleep yourself stupid?!”
As if trying to flee that overly doting mood, Sandrone quickly got off the bed and stood at its side, her back to Columbina.
She slapped her burning cheeks hard with both hands.
After a short while, she finally calmed down and looked around out of habit.
“Also, more important—where exactly is this place? Why are we…”
Sandrone’s voice cut off.
Because she finally saw their surroundings.
But behind her came Columbina’s quiet voice.
She did not seem to have listened to Sandrone’s shocked question about the room at all.
Instead, late and with great seriousness, she answered Sandrone’s earlier question about whether she had taken the wrong medicine.
“I missed you, Sandrone.”
Columbina’s quiet voice came from behind her.
She had also stood up.
Her bare feet made no sound against the ground, and her gaze still tied itself to Sandrone like an invisible thread.
“Co-lum-bi-na! Know when to stop!”
Sandrone spun around.
Her usual elegance vanished, and she bristled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
“Is it fun to keep saying these… these ridiculous things?! Could you please use that rusty brain of yours and look at where we are right now?!”
Perhaps Sandrone’s high-pitched shout finally pulled Columbina back to some sense.
At last, she moved her eyes away from that cute, angry face and looked around.
This place was strange.
The fine, ornate tables and chairs, the workbench covered in blueprints, the soft four-poster bed, and the table where several of them often held tea parties.
Every piece of furniture gave off a familiar, comforting feeling.
But the walls were gone.
Not only the walls.
The ceiling, the floor, the windows… everything that defined the space had vanished.
In their place stretched pure, endless white void.
The furniture looked as if some strange power had cut it out and tossed it onto a blank sheet of paper.
“Heh…”
Columbina suddenly laughed.
Her eyes curved into pretty crescents.
“Sandrone, you’re so interesting.”
“Interesting? What part of this is interesting?” Sandrone walked to a familiar chair and sat down, her brows locked tight.
“What are you talking about?”
“Other people are so poor they have only four bare walls,” Columbina said as her skirt swayed with her steps.
She walked barefoot to Sandrone’s side and sat down.
“But our room is the exact opposite. It has everything except the walls.”
“…”
Sandrone held her forehead with one hand, covering the helpless look in her eyes.
“Do you still not understand our situation? This clearly isn’t a real space! It’s either an illusion, or some unknown alternate space…” She paused, then suddenly caught on.
“Wait! What do you mean, ‘our room’? Every piece of furniture here is my private property! None of it belongs to you!”
Columbina blinked with a perfectly natural look.
“But at least that bed has been slept in by both you and me, Sandrone. So that makes it our… shared property?”
It hardened.
Sandrone’s fist, resting on her knee, hardened.
The corner of her mouth twitched, and a vein seemed to throb on her forehead.
Just as she was about to pull out a wrench and give this female coworker a bit of physical “maintenance”—
“Ahahahahahaha—!!!”
A bright, infectious laugh rang out from every direction without warning.
The sound wasn’t harsh.
Instead, it had the lively noise of a festival.
Along with it came the squeak of rubbing balloons, the cheerful blare of party horns, and thunderous applause, as if thousands of hands were clapping at once.
In an instant, the whole space seemed to turn into a giant circus.
Without the slightest hesitation, Columbina, who had looked lazy a moment ago, moved.
She stepped lightly in front of Sandrone.
With her back to Sandrone, her long black-and-red hair stirred without wind and began to glow.
A faint halo rose in her pink eyes as she unfolded her trilune authority at full strength, trying to catch the anomaly in the space.
Yet there was nothing.
Only the happy tremor left in the air proved that the sound had not been a hallucination.
“Who’s there? Who’s playing tricks?”
Sandrone also leaped up at once, pressing her back to Columbina’s as she scanned the white void with sharp caution.
“What kind of skill is hiding in the shadows? You dragged us in here, but you don’t have the nerve to show yourself?!”
Her tongue was as sharp as ever, but unease rose inside her, hard to put into words.
No one answered.
“Damn it… where’s Pulonia?”
Sandrone searched on instinct for the giant puppet that was always at her side.
But there was only furniture here.
The silent guardian was nowhere to be found.
She looked back at the slender figure behind her, and the sense that something was off grew stronger in her heart.
In her memory, ever since they had left the Fatui, Columbina’s condition had been poor.
She had been like a frail little white dove.
But now…
Wait.
Frail?
The Doctor… segments… moon marrow…
A blurred fragment of memory flashed through Sandrone’s mind.
It felt like remembering something important through a layer of fog.
“Tch…” Sandrone clutched her head in irritation.
That faint unease in her mind made her restless.
“What is going on…? I feel like I forgot something…”
Pop!
A crisp sound cut off her thoughts.
Amid a shower of colorful confetti and glitter, a bright red balloon painted with a silly smiling face appeared out of thin air in front of them.
Then came another pop.
The balloon burst.
A crack opened in the empty void.
It spread fast, forming a half-transparent shape flowing with rainbow light… a door?
Dead silence.
Sandrone and Columbina looked at each other.
“Is that… an exit?” Sandrone frowned.
Before she could step forward and analyze it, Columbina had already begun walking toward the door.
“Hey! Wait!”
Sandrone reacted fast and grabbed Columbina by the wrist.
“Are you insane? You don’t even know what’s on the other side, and you’re just going to walk in?!”
Columbina stopped.
She turned, and Sandrone’s anxious face reflected in her eyes.
“It’s all right,” she said softly.
The peace in her words soothed Sandrone’s heart a little.
“I can feel that this ‘being’ means us no harm… and besides, as long as you’re here, Sandrone, that’s enough.”
“—!”
A numb feeling ran through Sandrone’s wrist where she held Columbina, like a small shock of static.
She quickly let go, as if trying to hide something.
“Ahem…”
She turned her face away and cleared her throat hard, trying to cover the useless flush on her cheeks.
“You… what is wrong with you today? Why is everything coming out of your mouth so… so creepy…”
Silence held for two seconds.
Then Sandrone seemed to give up all resistance and let out a self-destructive sigh.
“Ah, forget it! Fine, fine! This is so annoying!”
She strode forward.
This time, she took the lead and reached out, grabbing Columbina’s cool hand and holding it tight.
“Let’s go, then! At worst, we end up in some other damn place!”
Sandrone lifted her chin and pulled Columbina toward that strange, dazzling door.
“One of us is the Fatui’s Third Harbinger, and the other is the Seventh. What kind of grand scene haven’t we seen before? What’s there to be afraid of?”
Columbina looked at their joined hands, and the smile at the corner of her mouth finally bloomed in full.
“Mhm. Not afraid.”
Side by side, the two stepped through the unknown doorway.