sophia

Careful now.

Did they leave yet?

Mmhmm. Miss Margaret and Miss Maria both had a bit much to drink, so the butler arranged for a driver to take them home not too long ago.

Where's Młynar?

Did you forget? He didn't even stay halfway through before leaving.

...I guess I was already pretty wasted by then.

I haven't seen you indulge yourself like that in a long time.

Margaret deserved the toast.

Oh, allow me to see you to your bedchamber.

Hold on.

Who's there? Show yourself!

Let go! Let go of me!

A reporter? How'd you get in here?! Miss Zofia, should I call the police?

No need. You can head back first.

But...

Don't worry. I can toss this runt back over the walls myself.

Please don't hesitate to call me if needed.

How old are you? Fifteen? Sixteen?

I'm an adult!

'Four Seasons Times'... So YOU'RE that reporter.

Please give me my badge back.

Are you aware that trespassing is a crime?

I'm sorry... I just wanted...

Hmph.

Seeing how you chased me all the way here, you might as well ask what's on your mind while you've got the chance.

If you have the guts to barge into my house, surely you have the guts to sit on my sofa?

I...

Take a seat.

Let's just call this an interview. I'm sure you've got pages of questions you've been itching to ask.

I'm new to the job... I've never done an interview before.

Perfect. Now's your chance to practice.

Uhh... I'm really sorry, I broke into your house on an impulse. I'm willing to accept the consequences, be it a fine or jail time—

You know, normally an interview begins with a self-introduction. I'll get started for you.

But—

My name's Zofia, formerly known as the Whislash Knight, now retired. A sister to both Maria and the Radiant Knight. Well, technically their aunt, but whatever.

I'm also a VIP at Golden Palm Bank, a super-VIP at the Starlight Street shopping mall, and a swindled customer of various real estate moguls... Oh right, and occasionally the center of attention for the tabloids.

No, that's not you...

Then who am I, in your eyes?

I've watched the recordings of all your matches, and read every article... You were different during each phase of your career.

Then start with the 'me' you have the deepest impression of.

Oh, here it is. It's from this time... You wore a ponytail back then, just like Maria.

After the Radiant Knight left, the decline of the Nearl family was inevitable, so you stepped into the arena seeking to save everything for her sake... I still have photos from that time.

That was such a long time ago. Not even I kept that photo.

But yeah. Margaret went far, far, away. Młynar didn't want to become a knight, preferring to wear a tie and sit in a cubicle, so I had to step up and make something happen.

Just for the Nearl family?

Of course not. After being bathed in the Radiant Knight's light, how could I not let it touch my heart? Of course I wanted to pierce the darkness covering Kazimierz with my own strength, sword in hand.

But you weren't able to...

Hey, where'd you get that photo? Get rid of it! It makes me look ugly!

No! I worked so hard to buy this one!

You kids really are something else. Why work your butt off for a picture of a knight with a bruised nose?

This is a photo of your last fight. Ever since your defeat to Fissure in the round of 16, you were never seen in the arena again.

My left hand was injured.

But you fought to the end with your right.

Gee, thanks for reminding me. I'm sure I would've forgotten all about it!

Sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up.

It's fine. Getting injured was only part of the reason I decided to retire. There were some things buried too deeply for me to think about back then.

But when I look back at it now, more and more I think it was the disillusionment. Though I'd already expected it to some extent, once I was fully exposed to the filth beneath the glamor of knightsports, I really couldn't find a reason to keep going.

Not everyone has the never-ending light to dispel the darkness wherever they go, like the Radiant Knight.

Most fall right there, on the cusp before daybreak. Even if they point their swords to the sky, they can only swing at the infinite darkness.

But you were still willing to be Maria Nearl's coach and help her shine in the arena.

All I did was teach her how to survive in the darkness.

I couldn't teach her anything I didn't know how to do myself.

What do you mean?

I mean she managed that on her own.

Be it with Maria or Margaret... There was nothing I could do.

At least... they were able to bring you joy with what they accomplished. Like you said in 'Sports Afternoon,' you're proud of them.

You're right, I am. The Four Seasons Times echoed a similar sentiment in that one article, 'the Nearl Family's Best Attendant.'

...That was just a spur-of-the-moment thing.

(*Shakes head*) Haha, don't worry. I didn't take it personally.

But that's not what the look on your face said. I saw you at the newsstand that day, and your expression was different from usual.

Okay, now this is getting creepy... How long have you been stalking me, kiddo?

I've been taking photos for the last few months, but I've been following you for the last six years and twenty-eight days.

...Okay, you're definitely going to land yourself in jail one day.

Sure, but I'll also land myself the greatest honor a reporter can get.

Suit yourself, doesn't matter at this point. Let's get back on topic.

The moment I saw that photo, some things clicked in my head that I wasn't sure of before.

I'll admit it, I was jealous of Margaret, but I'm not sure whether it was her combat prowess, her Originium Arts, her being a Pegasus, or the 'Nearl' name.

None of those things matter. You wouldn't envy the Radiant Knight over little things like that.

Yeah.

I guess I was just sad that I couldn't be like her, charging towards a goal from start to finish. Without hesitation, fearing neither hardship nor darkness.

...You've never thought about stepping back into the arena?

I'd rather die.

So... do you miss your competitive days?

Hmm...

At least I knew what I wanted back then.

...May I write an article and publish what you just said?

Knock yourself out. I don't care, and the people I care about don't care either.

Will you buy a copy of the Four Seasons Times next week to read it?

Let's cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we?

One copy of the Central Journal, please.

Here you go, kid. There aren't many people like you who read the papers these days.

You talk too much, gramps.

Hey, it's a bit old-fashioned, but you should buy another one if you're waiting for someone.

What do you mean?

You've been following her around for so long, you really think I wouldn't notice the camera behind your newspaper? Look, she's coming this way right now.

When she sees the familiar figure, the reporter perks up, raising her camera and pointing it at the woman across the street.

In her right hand is a freshly-bought cup of coffee, wispy steam coming off the rim of the cup.

When she gets to her car, she moves the cup from her right hand to her left and tries to grab the keys from her purse. Her left hand is impaired, and the coffee is very hot, so she can only hold it from an awkward position.

Upon seeing her distress, passersby try to help her on multiple occasions, but each time she refuses.

Seeing the woman grit her teeth in pain and rummage through her purse for her keys, the reporter cannot help but squeeze her camera tightly.