The morning sun streamed into Shino Koko’s penthouse, illuminating the polished mahogany of her Steinway. For years, this room had been a mausoleum of broken dreams, a place where the air was heavy with the weight of "what could have been."
Koko sat on the bench, her back straight. She placed her right hand on the ivory keys. She began to play—not a simple exercise, but the Revolutionary Etude, a piece that demanded strength, precision, and absolute control.
Her fingers flew. The scales were crisp, the chords were powerful, and for the first time since the accident, there was no stumble. No sharp phantom pain shooting up her arm. No humiliating twitch that forced her to stop. She played until the final thundering note echoed off the walls, leaving a vibrant, golden ring in the air.
She was perfect. She was Shino Koko again.
But as the resonance faded, Koko stared at her hands. They were beautiful, unscarred, and completely steady.
"Why?" she whispered.
The memories hit her in waves—the bruised purple sky, the weight of the Card of Speed, the feeling of Yui’s blood on her hands. She remembered Yui lunging into the golden light of the Heart Scale. She remembered the look in Yui’s eyes—the look of someone who was about to pay a bill for everyone else.
“I wish for a world where we never had to be heroes.”
The words rang in Koko’s mind like a funeral bell. Yui had traded the Heart Scale's power for this. She had traded the cards for Koko’s hands, for Mahiru’s peace, and for Konone’s safety.
"You idiot," Koko choked out, a tear landing on the middle C. "You didn't just wish for peace. You paid for it with yourself."
She stood up so abruptly the bench scraped harshly against the floor. She didn't grab her bag or her phone. She bolted toward the door, her heart racing. She didn't need a transformation card to move fast; the sheer terror of what she might find—or what she might not find—pushed her legs to their limit.
She ran past the high-end boutiques and the manicured parks, heading toward the quieter side of the city. She headed toward the small, family-owned restaurant with the blue awning—the place where a girl with a bright smile and a blue ribbon was supposed to be waiting to complain about her grades or ask for help with her homework.
"Please," Koko prayed, her breath hitching as she turned the final corner. "Please still be there. Let me be wrong. Let it just be a dream."10Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡb7jsq66ucl
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