-

Yoshika walked through the grand halls of the Palais Mermonia, her footsteps echoing in the silence. The war preparations were nearly complete, Fontaine’s forces standing ready, but her mind wasn’t on strategy.

It was on Furina.

That moment in the opera house lingered in her thoughts. Furina’s voice, her words—so direct, so unafraid.

"I missed you."

Yoshika clenched her fists.

What was she supposed to do with that?

She wasn’t someone who belonged to anyone. She wasn’t like Furina, someone meant to stand under the spotlight, adored by all. She wasn’t even supposed to exist, not really. She was a creation, a puppet of Celestia’s design. Even her own existence was a lie, shaped to fit the image of a god long thought dead.

She sighed, frustrated, as she turned a corner—only to find Furina already waiting there, arms crossed.

Yoshika stopped.

Furina raised an eyebrow. “I do hope you weren’t planning to avoid me for the rest of the night.”

Yoshika sighed. “I was just checking the preparations.”

“Liar.”

Yoshika flinched slightly. Not because Furina sounded angry—she didn’t. She just sounded sure.

Furina took a step closer. “You always do this, you know.”

“Do what?”

“Run.” Furina tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “You left Fontaine for Snezhnaya without telling me why. And now, here we are again.”

Yoshika looked away. “I don’t run.”

Furina scoffed. “Yes, you do. Every time something feels real, you act like it doesn’t matter. Like you don’t matter.”

Yoshika stayed silent.

Furina sighed, brushing her bangs aside. “Listen. I’m not asking for anything. I just—I just want to know the truth.”

Yoshika tensed.

“The truth,” Furina continued, “about you. The real you.”

Yoshika looked at her then, really looked at her.

And for the first time, she wondered—if she told Furina everything, everything, would she still look at her like this? With warmth, with certainty?

Or would she look at her like everyone else had?

Like a weapon. Like a lie.

“…You don’t want to know.”

Furina frowned. “Try me.”

Yoshika opened her mouth, then closed it.

She could lie. She should lie. It was safer, easier.

But something about Furina—the way she looked at her, the way she always looked at her—made her want to be honest.

“I wasn’t born,” Yoshika finally said. “I was made.”

Furina’s expression didn’t change. She just listened.

“Celestia created me,” Yoshika continued. “Not as a person, but as a replacement. A piece in their game. I was never supposed to have a choice.”

Furina remained quiet for a moment, then she asked, “And do you still believe that?”

Yoshika hesitated.

“…I don’t know.”

Furina stepped closer. “Then let me tell you what I believe.”

Yoshika looked at her warily. “What?”

“I believe you are Yoshika.” Furina’s voice was steady, unwavering. “Not Celestia’s creation. Not someone’s replacement. Just you.”

Yoshika’s breath caught in her throat.

Furina took one more step, closing the distance between them.

“I see you, Yoshika.”

Yoshika didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Because Furina was looking at her again, with that same softness, that same certainty. And it terrified her.

Because Furina was real. And Yoshika didn’t know what to do with real.

So she did what she always did.

She turned away.

“…Goodnight, Furina.”

She walked past her, leaving Furina standing alone in the hallway.

And Furina, despite everything, just smiled.

Because Yoshika could keep running.

But Furina would keep chasing.

---
𝖠𝖭 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤: 𝗅𝗆𝖺𝗈 𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍, 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝗌𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄😭😭😭