"But could those three words really bind a person's heart as they seemed to, or determine every fact?"
The short-haired girl plunged her blade tip into the ground, braced her hands on her hips, and steadied her breathing. A spark of interest flickered in her eyes.
"Stop lying to yourself."
"If Rikusei didn't have me in his heart, why would he have come here in the middle of the night?"
The desolate night wind seemed tinged with icy moonlight. Naori felt her boiling blood slow slightly as Mao's words fell. "That's only your subjective assumption, Mao. Who exactly is lying to themselves?"
"Maybe it was friendship between classmates, or maybe comfort from a teammate. But the truth is right there." Mao spread her palms before her chest, baring her heart, while Futsu-no-Mitama at her feet was left wreathed only in stark, frigid lightning. "As long as you release the Illusion Technique, you'll have your answer immediately, won't you?"
Mao's sincere words drifted into Naori's ears with the breeze. As she had said, the answer was right there—but the unfathomable human heart would inevitably cloak that response in a disguise impossible to discern.
"Why do we have to fight like this and end up both wounded? Can't we go back to being that three-person squad we once were?"
That was a lie.
Sensing the surging fighting spirit hidden beneath Mao's sincerity, Naori sneered coldly to herself and chose to play along with her act. "Yes. Back then, when we learned you'd returned from Mount Myoboku, we definitely would have gone to the finest restaurant and eaten our fill."
"So let's shake hands and make peace. We can definitely enjoy—"
"Enjoy the thrill of battle?"
"Heh, I still couldn't fool you."
Mao, who had passed beyond the Lightning Blade, abruptly stopped. Her