Chapter 17
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Sob Sob... So Sad
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Sob sob... So sad
Rain poured down on that afternoon, the sky hanging low like a heavy black curtain.
Endless ranks of soldiers in black suits, rows upon rows of black vehicles.
From the cemetery entrance to the gravesite, the entire grounds were filled with a silence so thick it was hard to even swallow.
And then, slicing through that silence, came the crack of several rifle shots.
It wasn't mere gunfire—it was the world's salute to a fallen comrade from the battlefield, a hero's funeral dirge.
As the empty casket, draped in the national flag and golden emblem, slowly passed before the procession, stifled sobs rippled through the crowd.
Junior magical girls stood in uniform rows, dressed in their outfits, shoulders trembling, tears welling in their eyes.
She had been their admired senior, and at the same time, a fellow warrior who fought without fear.
And now, her name was being etched into history as "killed in action."
Citizens watching from afar bowed their heads beneath black umbrellas.
From children to the elderly, countless people clutched yellow chrysanthemums, shedding tears mingled with the endless rain from the heavens.
It felt as if the whole world was weeping together.
Yellow Bella of the Prismatic Eight.
It had been a week since her disappearance, and now came the cold verdict that she would never return alive.
The "yellow star" the world cherished most was thus officially fading into history.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The sound of heels echoing through the rain filled the graveyard.
The grounds were so still it seemed even the people's sobs had ceased.
At that moment, a woman emerged from among the black umbrellas and ascended the podium.
The uniform she wore bore the most striking emblem of all—one of the Prismatic Eight.
Pink Lumina, the world's strongest magical girl.
She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath before stepping to the microphone.
Her voice, hoarse from the rain but clear, rang out.
"Yellow Bella... was a good junior of mine."
In an instant, countless gazes in the crowd fixed on the podium. Lumina continued slowly, as if savoring each word.
"She was always rough around the edges, brutally honest. Sometimes so frank it bordered on rude, and yeah, she got under my skin a few times."
Her lips trembled.
But she closed her eyes again, then opened them, steadying her voice.
"But that girl... she always charged ahead of everyone else. Even when her body was breaking, she never gave up. I was proud of Bella for that."
As the rain pattered down, Lumina's voice began to waver.
"As a fellow member of the Prismatic Eight... as a comrade who fought by my side... I... I can't believe she's gone."
By this point, she could no longer hold her voice steady.
She tried to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand, but the tears wouldn't stop.
"Bella... are you watching? The world you dreamed of, the people you gave your life to protect... I promise... I'll carry on to the end. So please... please... I just wish you'd stayed by my side a little longer...!"
Her voice finally broke into sobs.
Pink Lumina clutched the microphone with both hands, bursting into tears before the sea of black umbrellas.
In that moment, many in the crowd began to sob along with her.
The world was mourning one hero's death and sharing another's tears.
"You did well up there, Lumina senior."
"Ah... Silver Serenity, you came too."
"You can just call me Ren. ...There's no one else here but us, after all."
Pink Lumina.
Or rather, Sora, had descended from the podium and was heading to a secluded corner of the graveyard to compose her overwhelming emotions.
As she sighed under an old tree to escape the rain, another shadow from the Prismatic Eight halted before her.
She wore a black kimono for mourning.
Silver threads embroidered with snowflake patterns glistened at the sleeve ends, damp from the raindrops, while the blue obi around her waist gleamed sharply even in the dim light.
Her hair, a pale silver like moonlight, was tightly braided and draped long over one shoulder.
Even soaked in the cold rain, that upright line remained unbroken, noble as a sculpture carved from ice.
And those piercing blue eyes.
Though she hid her emotions thoroughly, the sheer intimidation in her gaze could steal your breath the moment you met it.
Her name was Kurokawa Ren.
Known to the world as Silver Serenity, the silver member of the Prismatic Eight.
Sora forced a smile at her junior's visit. But Ren didn't waver for a second.
As if such a smile didn't suit her at all, she coldly shook her head and averted her gaze.
"Lumina senior... you are the pinnacle and ideal of all us magical girls."
"Ren..."
"I understand it must hurt to lose one of your trusted juniors. But please, think of the position you hold. Weakness... is not something the person in that position should ever show."
Was it comfort, or a threat?
Kurokawa Ren, a junior who had been by her side far longer than Yellow Bella.
Yet her voice was always as cold as frost, aloof and merciless.
Sora always found that icy judgment strangely unfamiliar.
And yet... she knew it was genuine concern at heart.
"Yeah... you're right. I can't show weakness. Thanks, Ren."
Sora forced another smile.
As the senior-most magical girl, she had no choice but to accept her junior's advice.
That smile was fragile, on the verge of shattering, but still, she was Pink Lumina of the Prismatic Eight.
But in that moment.
A soft, warm presence approached from behind, quietly enveloping her heavy shoulders.
A low, gentle voice cut through the patter of rain on the graveyard.
"If it's hard... you can just cry, Sora."
Sora's eyes widened in shock.
Her lips trembled as if called by name, before she could even catch her breath.
"Taegon... Mr. Taegon..."
Without her noticing his approach, her husband had pulled her into a tight embrace from behind.
Unlike Ren's frozen words, his arms were filled with warmth.
And within that embrace, the emotions Sora had bottled up came crashing down in an instant.
The sorrow buried deep in her chest burst forth like rain.
"I... I was so scared, really. And... so sad..."
Taegon gently wrapped his arms around her shoulders and whispered softly.
"It's okay. The world won't crumble if you cry. You've always been strong... so today, lean on me."
The hero's vulnerability she never showed before others.
The despair of the woman hidden behind the name Pink Lumina poured out in her husband's arms, crumbling like a dam breaking.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, mingling with the rain and flowing endlessly.
"I... wanted to protect her... but in the end... I couldn't do anything...!"
Taegon patted her back and whispered tenderly.
"It's not that you failed to protect her. No one can save everyone. But because you were there, countless people survived. So cry. Right now, no one will blame you."
Those words stood in stark contrast to the world's sharp, blade-like gazes.
It was absolute, unconditional comfort that only her husband could offer.
Sora buried her face in his chest like a child, sobbing.
She revealed the fragility the world would never allow, but only before this one person.
But.
'Even in front of her husband... is that really a fitting sight for the greatest magical girl?'
Ren clicked her tongue inwardly.
Pink Lumina, the pinnacle of the Prismatic Eight, sniffling with her face buried in her husband's chest.
To her icy eyes, the scene was nothing but pathetic and undignified.
That was why.
Ren steadied her breath and parted her lips to deliver cold words.
"Senior, that is—"
But in that instant.
A chill ran down her spine.
Taegon, holding Sora tightly, lifted his head.
With his sobbing wife in his arms, his gaze passed casually over Ren, meeting her eyes.
An ordinary look.
Just deep, black pupils.
Yet that simple glance felt like a colossal shadow blotting out the sky.
Like storm clouds bearing down solely on her, her entire body froze in an instant.
Her breath caught.
Her heart plummeted, pounding wildly out of control.
Each inhale felt like the air was ripping through her throat.
'...What is this? Could it be... I'm actually scared?'
It was a sensation she could scarcely believe.
She, who had never felt fear before anyone.
She, who had coldly trampled dreams and mocked the wailing as ridiculous—now utterly subdued by this man's single glance.
Ren bit her lip hard.
But the words rising in her throat died there, unable to form another syllable.
In the end, she said nothing more, quietly averting her eyes.
She turned away, stepping out from under his shadow.
Even so, her heart continued to race.
Just the lingering afterimage of that gaze on her back made the nape of her neck prickle with cold sweat.