Alchemist

Some people sleep lightly, while others sleep deeply. In my previous life, I'd wake at the slightest noise, so I always thought I was the light-sleeping type. But after nearly oversleeping through my alarm and almost being late to the academy, I started wondering if maybe I was actually the kind who won't wake up unless someone shakes me awake.

I suddenly recalled something my master once said: the human brain remembers experiences of deprivation. For example, intermittent fasting—eating just one meal a day—might work short-term for dieting, but our bodies adapt to the low intake by gradually increasing calorie absorption efficiency. That's part of why we become more prone to yo-yo effects, along with the compensatory psychology.

Was it because I didn't get enough sleep as a baby? But even then, I never really felt deprived of rest. If anything, the anxiety of not waking up the next day had given me insomnia instead.

Of course, there were perks to this body. Falling asleep the moment I lay down and closed my eyes was one of the greatest blessings a person could have, right up there with not being picky about food.

Someone started shaking me so hard I felt seasick, forcing me awake. It was Yuna.

"Ah... sorry. I must've dozed off. Did you eat dinner okay?"

She'd slipped into the dark room quietly to wake me. I'd prepared a pajama party and all, but as the host, I'd holed up in my room and passed out—embarrassing. She was apologizing for that.

"If you're done eating, wanna watch a movie? I downloaded some stuff, like Zootopia and Inside Out."

"......"

Why was everyone so quiet? I'd picked animated movies considering their ages, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but maybe not their taste?

Haru, glancing around nervously, spoke first. "Nami... you still tired?"

Tired? I'd gotten up early and felt worn out, but a quick nap had refreshed me. It seemed like I'd ruined the fun by falling asleep, so I tried to explain.

"I was setting up the beam projector and nodded off by accident. It wasn't 'cause playing with you guys was boring or anything. I was so excited for the pajama party that I woke up early today."

"Noname..."

Yuna's voice trembled with tears as she gently tugged at my pajama sleeve. Had they fought while I was out?

The room was too dark to see faces clearly. I sat up and flicked on the light, revealing Yuna with a deeply furrowed brow.

"Why are you about to cry again? Did you fight with Haru while I was gone?"

She shook her head vigorously, red hair whipping side to side.

I tried hugging her like usual to comfort her, but she pushed me away.

"Is it 'cause I just went to my room without saying anything?"

Shake, shake—another no.

I pinched her soft cheek lightly, but she swatted my hand and huffed.

"I can't read your mind, you know. If something's bothering you, don't hide it—just tell me."

Kids' emotions were especially complicated. Adults show clear, singular feelings on their faces—joy, sadness, disgust. But kids often don't even know what they're feeling themselves, making ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it tough to figure out.

The one thing clear was the hurt brimming in Yuna's eyes.

"You're the one hiding stuff, Noname."

This time, Haru spoke up angrily.

"Me? I'm hiding something?"

"Yeah. You... you're hiding things from us too, so why tell Yuna to be honest when you won't?!"

"Feels like I'm missing something here. Can you explain what's going on?"

I was totally flustered. It was like stumbling into the art room late after school to grab a forgotten pencil case and catching the art and PE teachers making out—pure shock. Won't name names for privacy.

Yuna pressed her forehead to my thigh and hugged my waist tight.

"Your nightmare... it was so scary... You were mumbling runes, then suddenly said it hurt, begged to be saved, and... and... said you were gonna die..."

As Yuna confessed what she'd seen, the girl in pig pajamas sidled up beside me.

"If you're hurting, say so. I hate people who act fine when they're in pain the most... the worst kind of liars."

I Ha-ru clenched her fists as she spoke, on the verge of tears herself at the slightest touch.

I could only sigh deeply, pulling the two rushing girls into a hug. On the first night of our pajama party, not only had I failed to cheer them up—I'd made them cry.

The lighting nearly a full moon hung in the night sky as dusk settled. Nami handed the two girls their tops and prepared to head out.

"Going out this late? For what?"

Professor Cheon asked, puzzled.

"Stargazing."

Nami gave a curt reply and opened the front door. But ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the professor's question lingered unresolved. In Korea's brightest city at night, the stars hid shyly.

"Cloudy nights like this, even the few visible ones disappear anyway?"

"It's fine. I remember where they're all hiding. Can I borrow this?"

Nami's group headed to the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠apartment complex playground. The once-bustling spot kids roamed was now a desolate, silent lot.

Leading Yuna and Haru by the hand, she sat them on the swings.

"Hard to see stars in the city center 'cause of light pollution. Gotta go somewhere dark all around to really see 'em, right?"

"I don't see anything..."

Haru grumbled about the TMI, while Yuna still reeled from Nami's sleep-talking. Dragged out half-forcibly without explanation, their eyes brimmed with distrust.

"What I dreamed wasn't a nightmare."

Nami called from the top of the slide.

"Then what was it?"

To express Yuna's sulkiness, Nami kicked off the ground hard, swinging wildly. Noname was shrouded in mystery from one to ten. She knew everything about herself, but Yuna knew nothing. It frustrated her, made her chest tight. Every step Yuna took to learn more, Noname took two back. If she dodged again, Yuna wouldn't let it slide.

"Ever had a moment in life when you were happiest?"

Nami's dream was a nightmare yet not. It was her darkest, most desperate moment—but also the struggle yearning for her happiest.

"Tonight, right here, I'll show you how many stars are in the universe."

She pulled out the portable transmutation circle writer borrowed from Professor Cheon. A wand-type tool for drawing circles and magic arrays in midair without ink. Its drawback: the record-inject-activate steps were all bundled in "drawing," so no mid-process edits.

But drawbacks come with upsides. It reflected the caster's thoughts into the array with superior computation speed, injecting optimal mana approximations for low consumption. Essential, given the runes and formulas in Nami's future spells.

"World's full of weirdos. People wondering if a magic circle using every rune once would even activate? Timeless curiosity."

The null set rune "nul" could be omitted, but she wanted textbook precision this time, leaving 128 blanks.

The girls still had no clue what she was doing. Not until light filled the magic circle's north.

She began chanting with the most common runes for 1st and 2nd circle spells. Runes embedded at the top, lights igniting one by one.

Related circuits turned five gears like clock hands. With each tick, the outermost track lit clockwise.

Yuna's mouth fell open at the circle's sublime scale. Endless mana flowed through the writer, golden essence squeezed out only for new runes to devour it greedily.

A massive 8-meter-diameter array centered on Nami unveiled its grandeur. Five layered gears brighter than flickering streetlamps illuminated the playground. But only half lit so far.

As the swing creaked to a halt, Nami breathed the final 64 seven-syllable runes.

The instant Nami finished, all light vanished around the three girls.

"...!"

Shock brief, the North Star twinkled first in greeting. Thirteen stars gleamed blue in the east, nine red in the west. Stars bloomed above Yuna's head, under Haru's feet, blanketing the world in starlight.

They realized they no longer touched ground.

"How's it feel? Like the center of the universe?"

Nami approached from the slide, swings gone. Haru's heart pounded.

"What kind of magic is this...?"

"Pretty stars, huh? Can't find this anywhere."

Obvious. Haru had never seen a black canvas packed with thousands, tens of thousands of stars.

"Nami, so what you mumbled in your sleep..."

"Yeah. Guess I was casting this. My favorite magic."

What made this spell so special? Just for a night sky? But Yuna's doubt cleared fast.

Nami pointed; eyes followed. A shooting star streaked north.

"A star's falling...!"

Nami chuckled—not yet impressed. Then two, three fell. Hundreds still hung. Then ten, twenty at once.

Fear it'd hit them gripped Yuna; she clutched Nami's hand. Haru too, grabbing the free one.

Trails cracked the black sky like an egg. If their world was inside, now it hatched.

Crash!—The 128th star fell; the black dome shattered, revealing outside.

Cloudless blue sky, vast prairie brimming life. Crimson flowers blanketed lush green grass. Warm spring sun and fresh grass scent wafted on breeze like natural perfume. Petals rode wind, sticking to cheeks in welcome.

"Alright, let's go."

"Uh... where?"

Nami pointed to the hill's end. On a simple mat amid grassy perfume sat two figures: a cool blond boy and a younger girl beaming with smiles.