Chapter Nine: Precious Everyday Moments

The test was over. She hadn’t expected the tech department to put her through such an ordeal. If it weren’t for the director’s communication, she might have ended up performing a whole routine of Swan Lake.

The very thought of dancing with the Traum was breathtakingly beautiful.

Shakia was utterly exhausted. She slowly walked out of the training ground, where Shion, waiting outside, handed her a can of ice-cold cola. She quickly opened it and took a long drink.

“Ah~ I’m alive again~”

“You look like you’ve been through the wringer,” Shion smiled.

“Don’t remind me. Why do you have that ‘I knew it’ look on your face...”

“No worries, I’ve been through it too,” Shion said, spreading her hands with a helpless smile. Having once been a backup pilot for the Traum, she surely knew what torment felt like.

Shion led Shakia to the locker room and told her she could use the facilities anytime now; her fingerprint and facial data were already registered in the security system.

Shakia took a shower in the locker room, then changed into her everyday school uniform. She felt as though she was reclaiming the identity of Qin Yun once more.

Shion drove and took a shortcut, starting from the training ground’s garage and weaving through the underground base. Passing through tunnels marked with numbers, they finally emerged at the exit of an underground parking lot near Qin Yun’s apartment complex.

Twilight had fallen, but Shion dutifully dropped Qin Yun off right below her building.

“Ugh, I feel awful all over...” Back home, Qin Yun flung herself onto her bed. The entire afternoon spent being put through the tech department’s paces had worn her out far more than sitting through classes.

She was too tired even to turn on the TV, so she simply lay in bed, opened her phone, and listened to some programs on a video streaming site.

Soon, she fell asleep.

When she opened her eyes again, the sunlight was glaring right into her face.

“!!” Startled, Qin Yun sprang up, grabbed her phone, and checked the time.

Damn! Being late today was basically a foregone conclusion! She was too exhausted last night and had forgotten to set her alarm!

Ah, whatever. After all, Qin Yun was just a persona created by someone else. Ever since boarding the Traum, she hadn’t cared as much about certain things as she used to. Late is late—everyone has their off days, right? Finding an excuse to get by was easy enough. She would take her time getting to school.

Thinking this way lightened her mood considerably. She went downstairs, bought two steamed buns, and ate them along with some soy milk as she walked.

In the classroom, everyone was supposedly already in session, but as the latecomer, Qin Yun noticed that many others hadn’t arrived on time either. The teacher seemed distracted, idly lecturing, and when he saw Qin Yun enter late and call the roll, he merely nodded at her.

“?”

Qin Yun felt the atmosphere was strange. Reflecting carefully, she realized there had been no attendance check at the school gate this morning.

“Qin Yun! You’re here!”

Looking up, she saw Li Jiayi, who had come to school in her wheelchair.

“You’re out of the hospital... long time no see,” Qin Yun greeted Li Jiayi quietly.

“Why are so many people absent today?”

“The city government made an exception, asking all citizens to attend memorials or visit family members affected by the last attack. The notice came out yesterday. Today marks the one-month remembrance of that attack.”

So that was it. Qin Yun had been at training yesterday and hadn’t known anything about it.

Unconsciously, a month had passed since the last real battle. Judging by the sparse attendance in class, the casualties from the attack had been significant.

Recalling the stories the director had shared with her before, Qin Yun felt sorry for the citizens—they were almost like sacrifices. If governments worldwide had believed Svarg Bureau’s warnings, things might not have come to this. But humans were always suspicious by nature.

She glanced again at Li Jiayi and silently resolved that next time a monster appeared, she would take it down before it even reached the city.

Fortunately, Li Jiayi was here. It had been a month since they last met. Li Jiayi said she hadn’t known today was a rest day either. Given that, Qin Yun decided to treat her to lunch.

“Is that really okay?” Li Jiayi shyly scratched her head. “Because... nobody in my family was hurt or affected... except me... so coming to school today feels like the right thing to do.”

“......”

Li Jiayi’s way of thinking was a bit unusual; Qin Yun had no words.

“As a friend... it’s only right. Don’t mention it,” Qin Yun said, not really caring about the reason.

The two whispered quietly during class, which was quite conspicuous. Yet the teacher seemed to turn a blind eye today and only sighed before continuing the lesson.

At noon, Qin Yun pushed Li Jiayi’s wheelchair toward the cafeteria. Compared to the usual bustle, the place was rather empty today. But that was fine—usually, Li Jiayi had to have someone bring her food to eat in the classroom.

If possible, Qin Yun wanted to look after Li Jiayi at school, especially since it was because of her that Li Jiayi had lost the use of her legs. This was a kind of atonement.

Qin Yun told Li Jiayi to find a seat first while she went to get their meals. Just as she was about to return, she noticed two people had joined Li Jiayi at the table.

“Hi~”

It was the duo who had eaten with her yesterday. The bespectacled young man greeting her was called Zhou Longsheng, and the dark-skinned, strong fellow with him was Bruce Chen, a mixed-race student. They were usually called Longsheng and Bruce.

“Can we sit here?” Longsheng asked somewhat awkwardly, smiling nervously, his voice lacking confidence. Bruce nudged him with his elbow.

Qin Yun glanced at Li Jiayi, who looked completely unconcerned. If she didn’t mind, neither did Qin Yun.

“You two skipped classes this morning; why are you here now?” Qin Yun sat next to Li Jiayi, right in front of Longsheng.

“We had some things to handle this morning. We were still thinking of coming to school in the afternoon...” Longsheng smiled sheepishly.

“Oh? Such dedicated students?” Qin Yun started eating absentmindedly.

“We came to check if Qin Yun was here,” Li Jiayi teased with a mischievous grin.

“!!”

Longsheng jumped, almost dropping his chopsticks. Bruce quickly averted his gaze.

“Y-you... how can you slander us without cause...” Longsheng stammered, embarrassed.

“Hehe...” Li Jiayi watched the flustered pair with interest, chewing slowly.

“Jiayi, don’t joke around like that,” Qin Yun calmly reminded her.

“When we were eating yesterday, the atmosphere was sad. It’s only natural to worry about each other, right?” Qin Yun looked at the two and gave a gracious, composed smile.

“Oh, oh... yes! We were worried about our classmates, so...”

Longsheng and Bruce snapped out of it and nodded in agreement. Inwardly, they admired how gracefully Qin Yun had given them a way to save face. Such emotional intelligence—no wonder she was the school’s goddess.

“Thank you all. We need to stay strong.”

“Yes, yes!” Longsheng responded loudly.

Perhaps only the three of them truly understood the deeper meaning of Qin Yun’s words. It was not just encouragement for everyone but also a reminder to herself. Their lives, in a sense, rested in her hands.

Qin Yun wasn’t oblivious to Longsheng’s little mind games. Such adolescent antics were transparent to her, and teasing him was quite amusing.

Thinking this way, she wondered just how old she really was. Qin Yun sighed self-mockingly.

Cherishing the present routine—that was something Qin Yun, or rather Shakia now, had no choice but to learn. The next monster attack was bound to come, and she could not afford to let her guard down.