The girls applauded and cheered. Music and alcohol did their job: even saddened by the defeat, they forgot about their troubles and allowed themselves to simply enjoy life in a good company. With a bit of surprise, Niji realized that she’d been feeling completely different around these mages in recent days. The Blue Cat seemed like the place she belonged. Never had she been more comfortable than there, in the soft lights of the bar's lamps and the smell of fresh pastries. Like it was... her home? As if the enforcers were always her real family, with whom she had been adventuring together for many years.

She watched her new friends closely and tried to secure every minor detail in her memory. Mirabel's large blue eyes, so trusting and kind, as if neither grief nor suffering existed in the world. The captivating cigarette smoke, puffed by Dasnor who looked unusually relaxed. A scar on Rebecca's olive cheek, most surely with a story behind it—maybe one of her army days or some incredible fight at the Olympics. The black knitted hat with cat ears, worshipped by Dammit. Steadfast Viktor’s goatee that emphasized the massiveness of his chin. Glitter of the Light of the Goddess—a pin on Sacred’s mantle. Niji collected these small treasures and cherished them deep in her heart.

“Whoa, that worked!” Dammit leaned back on the couch. “What kind of sorcery is this?”

“It’s called music.” Sacred smiled, still playing around with chord changes.

“I remember drunk Academy fellas just loved to scream their lungs out with this song,” Rebecca giggled, already in her cups. “Do students still sing it, Niji?”

“Sure thing!” the latter nodded.

“Whoa, that brings me back… hey, Sacred, gimme that!”

Rebecca strummed a little, tuning the guitar, and then played a ballad no less famous as the previous song. Everyone fell silent and listened to the girl in respect, muttering the last line of verses from time to time. Viktor poured more whiskey, and Dasnor reached for the next cigarette.

Rebecca’s voice sounded so moving that Niji understood immediately: the Golden wasn’t just singing the lyrics written by an unknown author, but she experienced something similar herself, that’s why it felt so inappropriate to intervene with their own drunk voices.

My town is in slumber as twilight has fallen

I travel through streets on my way bittersweet

No matter the pain, I am walking this lane

My purple-blood prince is there waiting for me

His shade has gone brighter than lilac or thistle

But there is no other I’m longing to see

No matter the pain, I am walking this lane

My purple-blood prince is there waiting for me

I run and I stumble, the whole world is spinning

The shadows of buildings to hide in between

No matter the pain, I am walking this lane

My purple-blood prince is there waiting for me

The thunder of gunfire alongside enchantments

The street goes ablaze from a magical heat

No matter the pain, I am walking this lane

My purple-blood prince is there waiting for me

These black and white people shall leave you no mercy

I see violet ashes in night city gleam

No traces remain of my prince gone insane

My purple mage love, may you have a sweet dream

This one was also a must-have for every student booze party, so Niji knew the lyrics by heart. Once she thought that the story behind it was beautiful in its tragedy: some girl (probably not a mage, even) fell in love with a Viol, and PRISM killed him right before their date. It felt bittersweet...

But at that moment her heart broke. It was okay to enjoy such drama in a song, a movie, or a book. Yet in real life… there was just the “bitter” part to it. Petrifying, dismaying and desperate as well.

She knew Rebecca didn’t pick the song to tease her as the Manipulator had no idea who was sitting on the same couch with her. Yet how long would it take for her, Niji, to share the fate of this poor prince? What the hell had he done wrong that PRISM used their authority to eliminate him straightaway? Or would M.A.G.E. deal with her beforehand? Would there be a soul to feel sorry for her?

Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Dasnor. He met her gaze and nodded slightly. Or did she imagine it? The treasure chest seemed to be open once more. No, he wasn’t ready to give up yet. He wanted to protect her.

She bit her trembling lip. Dammit noticed this change of mood and came to the rescue, squeezing her shoulders clumsily. “Hey, Flare! Promise me you won’t fall for some sicko, ‘kay?”

“Not for you, then,” Beckz chuckled.

“Alas, my heart has already been taken by magnificent Hitomi-chan.”

“Her magnificent tits.”

“Don’t be bitter, there are some flat chest lovers too.”

“Say what?!”

Before Beckz executed a brisk assault once more, Sacred took the guitar out of harm’s way. Dammit whispered into Niji’s ear. “Your bro knows best. Stay away from shady guys unless you want your heart broken. Even if they are just grumpy, like… HEY WAIT A MINUTE!”

Viktor pulled off the signature cat hat and crowned Niji with it, advising, “Mind your own business, shorty.”

“Same for you, as my hat is MY business, Tin Can!”

Niji’s lips cracked a smile when she adjusted the cap and realized how pleasant its fabric was. “Feels nice.”

“Sure does! The top rank of my Best Things In Life list… after Hitomi, buuuuuut that’s quite a competition.”

“Have you just called her a thing?” Dasnor arched his eyebrow and took a drag.

“Niji, you are sooooo cute in it!” chirping like a schoolgirl, Mirabel reached for her smart. “Can I take a pic?”

“A selfie in the hat of Dammit The Awesome—just for 24.99! Good deal, considering this is a legendary relic!”

“You misspelled ‘old crap,’” Rebecca said as she stuck out her tongue at the cat-boy, and he jumped at his teammate with his fists. While fighting him off, she pushed Dasnor with her elbow, and the ashes from his cigarette fell on the floor. He put his hand on the couch’s arm and sighed with a chuckle. “The best good-for-nothing I’ve seen.”

~~~

It was almost morning when Sacred left the Blue Cat. The predawn darkness embraced the mage and hid him from prying eyes. After strolling down a couple of streets and taking a few seemingly arbitrary turns, the Celestial stopped and leaned against a brick wall. He watched leisurely as the sun was filling New Tokyo with its grace, awakening the city from its night dream.

“We’ve lost,” he pronounced. “The black and whites followed our trail. I don’t believe it’s a coincidence.”

He turned to a Gray Sister who seemed to emerge next to him out of nowhere.

“It’s not our job to help the Institution... if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Who else, then? How did they learn it that fast? I sold this information to you, what else should I be thinking?”

“If you go on blaming me for no reason, I’d better—”

The Sister didn’t finish as Jun leaned toward her, pulled off her mask and kissed the woman passionately. She didn’t object.

“I am sorry, Andrea,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. “I just hate the idea that there might be traitors in M.A.G.E.”

“How about Haydee?”

“That’s possible, but… why, though? She's been living like a hermit for years, never leaving her cellar. And a mere call would be a pain for her as she believes all tech sucks out your sanity.”

“Nothing prevents her from bluffing and keeping a smart under her pillow.”

“You’ve got a point, but… well, fine. Fiber’s the one who should care about such things.”

“What’s with Murasaki? Will she get Shell’s notes?”

“The black and whites will return them as long as they don’t find any illegal materials.”

The Gray Sister stepped away from Sacred. “Frejya mustn’t help her. Our Mistress is growing tired of waiting.”

“She can’t anyway. I remember a bit of what was written in the books. All these rituals will not work without a box, and it disappeared.”

“We must force her to show her true self. We need a shock. A breakdown. An agony.”

“Is your goal so important that you’re willing to ruin a person’s life without any hesitation?”

Jun stared at his lover and got a reply: “She’s the one who’s ruined it already.”