Three People (2)

‘Uh… is she busy? Why isn’t she picking up… dummy…’

Seeing the call still unanswered, You Xi held her phone and muttered under her breath.

Meanwhile, Tidal could feel the phone vibrating against her waist. Even amidst the bustling street, the ringtone stood out, piercingly loud.

“Senior, your phone’s ringing.”

You Xi turned to her with a questioning look.

“…Aren’t you going to answer it?”

W-what should I do?

In an instant, countless plans and countermeasures flashed through his mind, rapidly evaluated and discarded.

He could still explain this now—but if You Xi grew impatient, hung up, and at that exact moment the ringing on his side also stopped, suspicion would be unavoidable.

With that thought, Tidal made a snap decision.

She’d step away from You Xi first, cut the call herself, then send a text like *“In a meeting, will call back later.”*

As for an excuse to leave—simple.

Magical girls aren’t required to reveal their real identities to each other.

Some, if they trust their comrades, choose to be open. Others, more cautious or protective of their boundaries, keep their civilian lives strictly private.

Since she had come as Tidal—this form, this appearance—she naturally had the right to protect her identity. A phone call was personal. Stepping away was perfectly reasonable.

Just as Tidal prepared to act on her plan, a familiar voice reached her ears.

“Huh? You’re You Dong’s niece… You Xi, right? Little Xi!”

That voice—there was no mistaking it.

The moment she recognized the speaker, Tidal felt her facial muscles twitch involuntarily.

She turned, almost disbelieving, toward the source.

And there, standing before them, was Chen Xi—her ex-girlfriend, the one she had “dumped” in a past life.

“Xianjie? What are you doing here? What a coincidence!”

You Xi beamed, looking over Chen Xi with delight. Her fingers, almost instinctively, tapped the screen to end the call.

At the same time, the ringing from inside Tidal’s crossbody bag ceased.

But by then, You Xi’s attention had already shifted completely—she didn’t notice a thing.

“I work nearby. Sometimes I come to this plaza for dinner after work… What about you two? Just hanging out?”

As she spoke, Chen Xi finally noticed Tidal standing beside You Xi.

Her first impression? A beautifully crafted doll.

Beyond mere beauty, there was something unnervingly still—something alive, yet eerily close to inorganic, transparent calm. She couldn’t look away.

“…Who’s this?” Chen Xi asked, dazed.

Her gaze hadn’t left Tidal for a single second.

“Oh, this is my friend… Xiao Lian. We’re just out playing. About to grab dinner.”

As she spoke, You Xi shot Tidal an apologetic glance. Tidal gave a silent nod—*fine, go ahead.*

“Perfect! Then let’s go together! I’ll treat.” Chen Xi said.

The moment she said “sister,” Chen Xi stole a quick glance at Tidal.

She secretly hoped—prayed, even—for a reaction.

A look of gratitude. A spark of admiration. Maybe even a shy downward glance, overwhelmed by sudden kindness.

Any small gesture would have satisfied her, filled her with quiet joy.

But Tidal’s face remained blank—calm as a windless lake.

This wasn’t the expression of a child. And yet, strangely, it suited the child perfectly.

Perhaps in that very moment, the contradiction—this clash of innocence and unnerving maturity—created a kind of mysterious allure. Chen Xi’s curiosity flared, and with it, a fierce desire to win this girl’s favor.

‘I want to know more about her…’

On the way to the restaurant, that was the only thought in Chen Xi’s mind.

Yet no matter how she tried to engage the girl—asking questions, using adult social tricks—Tidal effortlessly evaded every probe, answering without answering, guarding her secrets flawlessly.

In the end, all Chen Xi had learned was a name: Chao Lian—a name that sounded less like a real name and more like a codename or online alias.

Considering their ages, Chen Xi took them to a popular Western fast-food chain. The kind of place that welcomed all ages—perfect for chatting, playing, or parents entertaining kids.

“Xianjie, can you get in touch with my uncle? I just tried calling to tell him I wouldn’t be home for dinner, but he didn’t pick up.”

You Xi’s words jolted both women like a synchronized electric shock—100% sync rate.

“Your uncle? Ah… You Dong, right. Yeah, I could contact him. But… well, it’s not really convenient right now…”

Chen Xi fussed with her hair, then her phone, clearly flustered.

“Oh. Judging by how you’re acting, you two must’ve had a fight, right?”

As an emotionally perceptive high school girl, You Xi instantly saw through the gap between words and body language. Chen Xi didn’t deny it—she admitted freely:

“Haha, so sharp. Was I really that obvious? Geez.”

Chen Xi laughed, but it didn’t last.

“…Actually, we broke up,” she said.

A fry slipped from Tidal’s fingers and fell to the floor.

She wanted to bend down to pick it up—hide under the table. Or make an excuse to go to the restroom, escape this painful scene.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she stayed—watching, listening, from the cold, shameless perspective of an observer.

She wanted to know: had Chen Xi truly let go?

“…I see.”

You Xi nodded, a little downcast.

“I always thought you two were so close. Never expected you’d break up.”

“Adult relationships are like that. When it doesn’t feel right, it’s better to part ways. It’s kinder to both sides,” Chen Xi said.

“That rational? I thought love meant accepting every part of someone—the good and the bad,” You Xi countered.

“What you’re thinking of only exists in novels and dramas. Real life isn’t that romantic.”

“If it’s not romantic at all, then what’s the point of dating…?”

While the two debated the nature of love, Tidal sat silently beside them—like a quiet rodent, mechanically nibbling fries.

“Alright, enough about that. I still haven’t asked—why did you two break up?” You Xi asked, curiosity piqued.

In the end, the conversation circled back to the one topic Tidal feared most—the one she dreaded above all.

If her niece found out she’d been *caught in bed* with someone else…

It wasn’t hard to imagine how You Xi would look at her then—full of disdain, contempt.

Before, it was just teenage rebellion, defiance. But after knowing *that*? Given her personality, she might never even glance at her uncle again.

…Maybe this was her punishment.

In the unnoticed gap between words, Tidal let out a quiet sigh.

And waited—still, silent—for judgment to fall.