May, May

May, a season when it rained easily.

The drizzle had been falling nonstop, like a hazy curtain hanging from the sky to the ground. On this misty stage, the entire city seemed drained of color, becoming a silent oil painting made of black, white, and gray.

Within the painting, everyone hurried along—past shopfronts, past subway exits, through streets and alleys, past every place that had nothing to do with them.

At the subway exit, the long-haired girl sat quietly in a corner against the wall with a guitar in her arms. She plucked at the strings now and then, humming a melody no one had ever heard. There were no lyrics, only waves of notes like the sea—tones utterly impossible for a human voice to produce.

Hurrying footsteps passed one after another before the girl. No one stopped to listen to the overly slow, boring song. May stopped playing, lifted her eyes, and looked at the gray sky.

The rain seemed to freeze in her Line of Sight, and the whole world slowed to a crawl. In her vision, the black, white, and gray city instantly became a vividly colored still frame. Within that frame, a faint gleam flickered in her eyes—under a Siren's infrared vision, everything became clear and distinct.

A moment later, May blinked. The falling rain began to fall again, and the pedestrians resumed walking. Before the increasingly deserted subway exit, she muttered softly, "Almost two months... I can leave this city now."

Several pedestrians emerged from the subway exit. A pair of parents walked past May with a brother and sister. The little girl clutched her mother's hand and shook it hard. "You promised we'd go to the zoo today! You promised we'd go to the zoo—"

"Why go to the zoo when it's raining?" Her mother held an umbrella and scolded her daughter with her head lowered. "Stop kicking the water—you've gotten your skirt all wet!"

The little girl seemed dejected. Her father, walking beside her, bent down and patted her head. "Be good, listen to Mom—we'll definitely take you next week..."

They gradually walked away. May watched the family's backs from afar, and after a moment of loneliness, she showed a faint smile. "How nice..."

She stood, slung her guitar onto her back, and flicked a tiny droplet toward the family. "Don't forget your promise to the child."

After doing that, she straightened the hem of her clothes, looked up at the endlessly falling rain, then turned to leave.

But after she turned around, she saw an unfamiliar little girl standing blankly in front of her.

"Hm?" May tilted her head in confusion. "What's wrong? Little one?"

The little girl only stared at her fixedly. Several seconds later, she suddenly burst into tears without warning. "Waaah—Mom..."

"Hey, don't cry! Don't..." May immediately floundered, awkwardly trying to comfort the suddenly sobbing little girl. "I didn't bully you... I don't even know you!"

As she spoke, she looked around anxiously, trying to find the little girl's family. Yet there was no one nearby. All she heard was the girl still crying, "I want Mom... Mom..."

May froze for a moment, then turned to look at the little girl's face. "Did you get separated from your mom?"

But the little girl only cried, completely ignoring her question.

May grew troubled. She frowned, hesitated for several seconds, then raised a hand. A few raindrops falling outside the shelter immediately drifted inside. The water quickly gathered at her fingertips, forming the shape of a sparkling, translucent little goldfish in moments.

The little girl stopped crying in surprise and stared at the crystal goldfish May offered her.

"Don't cry now." May patted the little girl's hair. "Sister will show you some magic."

The little girl took the goldfish in amazement and cried out happily, "Wow—"

"Good girl, don't cry. Did you get separated from your mom?"

"Mhm."

"Then..." May looked up at the sky once more before lowering her head. "I'll help you find your mom."

"Mhm... but Mom said I can't go with strangers."

May blanked out, then gave a helpless, amused look. "...Your mom is right... Then shall we wait here together for her?"

The little girl thought hard, then apparently found nothing wrong with that and nodded slightly. "Okay!"

May led the child back to where she had been resting and sat down again, letting the little girl lean against her. She took off her guitar and casually plucked its strings.

No one knew how much time passed. The already gloomy sky outside had grown dark.

The little girl blinked as she played with the tiny goldfish in her hand. After a while, she suddenly asked curiously, "Sister, you smell nice."

"Smell nice? Like what?"

"Like rain," the little girl said thoughtfully. Then she suddenly giggled. "Sweet!"

"Rain?" May felt she truly could not understand a child's train of thought. She held out her hand, and raindrops that should have fallen outside the subway exit's shelter drifted down onto her palm. "Is rainwater sweet?"

Yet the little girl leaning against her suddenly said something that seemed completely out of nowhere. "But birthday cake is sweet!"

"Birthday cake?" May had no idea what the child was talking about. "Where did birthday cake come from?"

"You have it on your birthday," the little girl said happily. "Today's my birthday! Mom went to buy me a cake..."

The little girl suddenly stopped.

She seemed to have remembered her mother again. Her eyes reddened at a visible speed, but May beside her suddenly stiffened.

A birthday... buying a cake... They got separated while buying a cake?

A child this small could not have gone very far... Was there a cake shop nearby?

She suddenly raised her head and looked in a direction across the street.

She lifted a finger and pointed into the hazy curtain of rain outside—the drifting rain immediately twisted slightly. The next second, an almost transparent water elemental, whose outline faintly resembled May's, appeared in the air filled with damp mist and drizzle.

The water elemental bowed slightly to May, then turned toward the street. Its body melted like wax, swiftly blending into the puddles on the ground. Then, a ripple almost invisible to the naked eye traveled rapidly into the distance through the pooled water, the rainy mist in the air, and the streams running down the walls.

The ripple crossed streets, crossed alleys, crossed storefront after storefront, and finally stopped before a shopping street.

The ripple remained in a puddle on the shopping street. An almost transparent face emerged on its surface and stared at the nearest shop:

Little Rain Cakes.

The ripple dispersed in the puddle, becoming countless overlapping waves that spread outward from the cake shop through every place that held water.

Wherever there was water, the Siren was everywhere.

A young woman walked anxiously down the street, asking shop after shop whether anyone had seen her daughter. Her clothes were soaked through and her hair was disheveled, yet she paid no attention to either.

Nor had anyone seen a little girl pass by their storefront.

The young woman finally stopped at the street corner. She stared blankly at the hazy city before her, her eyes entirely unfocused.

The ripple in the water stopped at her feet.

An almost transparent female figure appeared in the curtain of rain behind the young woman. It leaned toward the distraught mother and spoke in a layered, illusion-like voice resembling ocean waves. "Go to the exit for Subway Line 2... she's there..."

Under the shelter at the subway exit, the little girl, who had already cried herself out once more, finally saw her mother running toward her.

"Mom!!"

The little girl happily threw herself into the young woman's arms. Before her mother could speak, she turned and pointed at May, shouting excitedly, "Sister can do magic! Sister can make goldfish!"

May stood and smiled at the young woman, whose face was full of embarrassment and lingering fright. She noticed that the woman did not resemble her at all—but perhaps their backs looked just a tiny bit alike. "Next time, don't get too far away from your child."

"Thank you, thank you..." The young woman thanked her repeatedly, then anxiously invited her, "Come sit at my house, our home..."

"No need. I should head home too." May politely declined both her thanks and her kindness. She had already slung her guitar over her back and walked toward the rain-soaked city outside. Before stepping into the rain, she looked back and gave the little girl a brilliant smile. "Happy birthday!"

In the breeze and fine rain, a calendar page drifting from nowhere fluttered down before May.

May lowered her head and saw the clear date printed on it: May 15.

"I'll stay a few more days..."

In Hao Ren's living room, a group of people sat around a large dining table. Nangong May was coiled along one side of it, swaying the tip of her tail as she wiggled a finger. "So I decided to stay a few more days—and then the Goddess somehow arranged a bunch of things for me, and then I ended up here... That's what happened."

"Wow..." Hao Ren sighed. "So much happened before you came here."

"And what a coincidence," Vivian also sighed. "That day was May 15? Today is May 15 too."

"Who told me to be named May?" May laughed, her tail tip swaying through the air. "May and I are fated."

"After all, May 15..." Izax chuckled. "In my hometown, some human nations believe that every person's fate is bound to the day they were born. Your birthday is the day fate chooses a fork in the road."

"So..." As Izax's voice trailed off, Hao Ren and Vivian smiled and said at the same time, "May, happy birth—"

Before they could finish, May gave her tail an odd flick. "But that day isn't my birthday—huh? What were you about to say?"

"Huh?!" Hao Ren stared at May in shock. At the same time, he discreetly shoved the party popper he had already taken out from behind his back into his portable space. "You weren't born in May...?"

"I celebrate my lunar birthday." May curled the tip of her tail. "When I was born, this country hadn't started using the Gregorian calendar yet—I've counted by the lunar calendar ever since I was little. But my brother is pretty shameless—he celebrates both the Gregorian and lunar birthdays, scamming two gifts out of me every year. Anyway, what were you trying to say?"

"N-Nothing..." Vivian smiled awkwardly. Behind her, two little bats frantically tossed gift boxes into Hao Ren's portable space.

Izax also looked awkward—though his face was too dark for it to show clearly. "Ahem. I didn't say anything."

Behind him, the gift box that had been prepared long ago was also tossed into the opening of Hao Ren's portable space.

Nangong May blinked and muttered in confusion, "Why is everyone acting so weird..."

Hao Ren and the others hurriedly waved their hands. "Not weird, not weird..."

But at that moment, the front door of the house was suddenly pushed open.

Under Hao Ren and the others' horrified stares, Lily ran in excitedly from outside. She darted straight to May's side and set off a party popper. "Happy birthday, May!!!"

The only thing in the room more than awkwardness was even more awkwardness.

"Happy birth—" Lily shouted again, only then finally noticing that something was wrong with the atmosphere. She looked utterly baffled. "What's wrong?"

Hao Ren covered his face. "May, she..."

Vivian finished for him. "She celebrates her lunar birthday..."