Story Reader / Event Story / Lingering Stars / Story
The night sky is already covered.
You find myself on a bridge, observing the bustling crowd on the far shore.
A sudden sneeze—a naughty breeze, perhaps.
Suddenly, a blanket is draped over your shoulders.
The comforting texture instantly dispels the night's chill.
Turning around, you find the blonde woman already beside you.
Good evening, Commandant.
A gentle smile graces her lips.
Realizing she might be standing a bit too close, she takes a half step back and, out of habit, gives a small bow.
You almost lose the blanket trying to return her bow.
Bianca quickly catches the falling side, adjusts it, and then grabs a corner—only then noticing a button sewn on it.
Sorry, I should've mentioned it earlier.
Bianca helps you fasten the button with a satisfied expression on her face.
Much better.
Your eyes follow her gaze to the blanket, noting the smooth stitching and fabric unlike anything you have seen in Babylonia.
There is also an embroidery of a magpie flying through clouds at the shoulder.
In the corner, the character for "cloud" is embroidered—the handwriting...
Bianca nods with a smile.
Are you satisfied, Commandant?
After all, it's a promise.
Seems I managed to keep it.
Your mind drifts back to a similar moment last year, Bianca holding a bookmark toward the Milky Way.
Next year, may I prepare a surprise for you?
That was when Bianca made a promise.
Lucky I caught you here.
Otherwise, I'd still be looking for a chance to give it to you.
Seeing the sparkle in her eyes, you can't help but smile.
It's my honor.
Bianca, visibly relaxed after receiving your approval, plays with her hair and leans against the railing, gazing up at the night sky.
Her eyes mirror the scattered stars.
You follow her gaze.
Though the stars seem chaotic—
There's a celestial dance they follow, a bit like...
Bianca lowers her gaze.
In the tale about the lovers' day of Kowloong, the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl are destined to meet only once a year.
How can such a fate bring any surprises?
Pulling out the gift you have prepared for Bianca, you see her eyes widen with surprise.
She carefully accepts the box, which contains a hairpin carved with drifting clouds.
Looking toward the shopping street, you see the sparse lights already coalescing into a bright night, everyone wearing a smile.
A playful breeze sweeps across the wooden bridge, and Bianca leans closer, seemingly not just on a whim.
Let's turn such meetings into...
Destiny.
