“Woman…” Seraphina murmured, repeating the word, her gaze fixed intently on the familiar yet unfamiliar image in the mirror.
Suddenly, fragments of memories she had deliberately downplayed surged like a tidal wave, crashing into her mind.
The initial shame of being forced to wear women’s clothing, the pain and despair of her body being forcibly altered by drugs, the gradually unfamiliar face in the mirror…
Everything Movira had once imposed on her—facts she thought she had numbly accepted—were now laid bare before her because of a stranger’s invitation!
“I… how could I forget…” Her voice began to tremble, her face instantly paling. “Those… things you did to me, those things…”
Seraphina abruptly raised her hand, about to knock the mirror away in the next second, but it fell limply…
“I, I feel like my head is so weird… Why would I forget…”
Her head throbbed as if it were about to explode, various thoughts tearing at her wildly.
Her soul was clearly still male, but her body…
Had she ever liked women? It seemed… there were no clear memories.
Then, should she like men now? The moment this thought arose, her body churned like a stormy sea.
So, what was she now—male or female? Should she like men or women?
These most basic questions had become unsolvable riddles, forcibly pushing her into an abyss of chaos.
“Whether you like someone or not, the key factor is whether your souls align.” Seeing Seraphina’s pained expression, Movira’s heart ached deeply.
“Stop talking…” Seraphina clutched her forehead, her fingers buried deep in her hair, her voice carrying a sob and exhaustion.
“I… I’m so confused, my head hurts so much… It’s so chaotic, I don’t know… I really don’t know.”
Seeing her on the verge of collapse, Movira’s concern overrode all caution. She couldn’t let Seraphina continue pondering this—the more she thought, the more painful it would be for her.
Or rather, if she had interrupted the topic from the start… this wouldn’t have happened.
Movira hesitated no longer. She quickly lay down beside Seraphina, extending her arm to gently wrap around Seraphina’s trembling shoulders, helping her lie down and pulling her closer into her embrace.
This action was entirely subconscious on Movira’s part. By the time she realized, she was stunned herself.
A strong wave of regret surged—this was the first intimate gesture she had made since their hard-won reunion.
She secretly observed Seraphina’s expression, mentally preparing to be pushed away and anticipating possible rebuke.
But as long as this could divert Seraphina’s attention, she was willing to risk it.
Seraphina did want to push away, stemming from her resistance to the old Movira, but it was just a momentary impulse.
It wasn’t even noticeable to Movira.
In the end, not only did she not break free, but like seeking a heat source, she obediently leaned into Movira’s embrace, her entire body almost pressed against the other.
Movira felt a shock for the second time in nearly a century—the first being when Seraphina “disappeared” not long ago.
Her arm stiffened, hovering in mid-air, unsure how to respond or daring to hug back.
Yet she could clearly feel the icy-cold body in her arms, like holding a block of ice, along with those subtle tremors.
Seraphina’s mind was also a chaotic blank. She didn’t know why she was doing this.
Reason told her it was dangerous, a repetition of past mistakes.
But this body, scarred from immense trauma, was utterly exhausted. It had already acted before her mind could think, honestly choosing the only source of security and warmth available at that moment.
This is just because the other… might be my…
Sister?
With this layer of explanation, this seeking became reasonable—at least… Seraphina no longer felt awkward.
She even shifted her body a bit, allowing herself to sink more fully into the embrace.
This silent reliance struck Movira harder than any unyielding vow or solemn oath.
This was the first time Seraphina had proactively drawn close to her without coercion.
Movira’s emotions were a whirlwind—inevitably including immense joy, but also a considerable amount of regret.
If… if she had treated Seraphina this way from the beginning, instead of that self-righteous force and control, wouldn’t things between them have been different long ago?
But history had no ifs. She had no willingness or time to dwell on these. She cautiously “borrowed” back a tiny bit of her old dominance.
Not daring to borrow too much, she slowly tightened her arm, holding Seraphina more steadily in her embrace, while gently patting Seraphina’s back with her other hand, like soothing a frightened child.
“Don’t think about it… Don’t think about anything tonight…” Movira’s voice carried a deliberately added gentleness—but it was, after all, gentleness.
“Sleep. No matter how big the issue, we’ll deal with it tomorrow. Once you’ve rested well, we can think about it then.”
Seraphina remained silent, offering no response, her breathing simply becoming long and even—like a battered ship finally finding a vast and secure harbor.
She fell into a deep sleep in this embrace that stirred complex feelings in her.
Movira held her motionless, but her heart was far from as calm as her exterior.
Tomorrow? When Seraphina woke tomorrow, how would she face tonight’s… What problems of identity and emotion would they still have to confront?
And Seraphina’s cognitive barrier about herself was the main source of all this pain.
Lowering her head to look at Seraphina’s furrowed brows even in sleep, she let out a silent sigh deep in her heart.
This is the real you…
How should I explain this?
Tonight was undoubtedly a bright moment in the long night, but it came at a cost.
Movira didn’t know when she had fallen asleep—the security in her arms had drawn her into slumber as well.
However, in the latter half of the night, an unusual burning sensation jolted her awake.
She abruptly opened her eyes, her consciousness not yet fully clear, but her body reacted first to the anomaly.
It felt like she was holding a red-hot coal, scalding hot.
The previous slight chill was gone, replaced by a high heat that penetrated even through clothing.
Seraphina was still in her arms, but her breathing had become rapid, her cheeks flushed with an abnormal red.
Even in her stupor, she looked extremely pained, her lips trembling with indistinct murmurs.
“Seraphina?”