The morning after the performance was… disorienting.
Ayame sat on the edge of her bed, sunlight slanting across the floor in dusty beams. It felt wrong that the world could look so normal after what they'd done. That the sky hadn't cracked open. That people still brushed their teeth and checked their phones and cursed at coffee burns.
But then again, *real magic* was like that, wasn't it?
Silent. Subtle. Reverent.
She picked up the pendant from her nightstand. It was cool now, inert—but she could still feel the weight of Rhiannon's touch, still hear her final words echoing like a ghost-melody in her mind.
*When memory is true, it sings louder than any lie.*
Ayame turned as a knock tapped at her door.
It was Mio, already dressed, already clutching a thermos of tea.
"You slept in," she said, slipping inside.
Ayame blinked. "How late is it?"
"Almost eleven."
Her eyes widened. "Kael—?"
"He's fine," Mio said. "Still sleeping. I checked."
Ayame let out a breath. "Good."
They sat in silence for a moment, until Mio said, "Do you think we actually did it?"
Ayame glanced down at the pendant. "We broke the loop. Gave Rhiannon her ending."
Mio nodded. "But that Weaver thing… it's still out there."
Ayame frowned. "Yeah. I don't think that's something you destroy. I think it's something you resist. Like a tide that never stops coming, trying to pull your memories under."
"Do we tell anyone?" Mio asked.
Ayame hesitated.
Then, quietly: "Not yet."
Mio nodded. "Alright."
She stood to leave, but paused at the door. "Oh, by the way—Ms. Sato wants to see us. All of us."
Ayame tensed. "About the performance?"
"She didn't say. Just that it was urgent."
—
The group gathered at the old library annex by noon. Kael showed up looking rumpled but determined, and Haru and Yuzu arrived together, Yuzu already chewing gum like she was gearing up for a fight.
Ms. Sato was waiting in the reading room—wearing a strange, unreadable expression. The sunlight caught her glasses at a sharp angle, and for a second, Ayame thought she saw a flicker of something *older* behind her eyes. Something knowing.
"Sit," she said.
They obeyed.
She paced slowly, hands behind her back. "I've been watching you all. Closely."
Kael spoke first. "Ms. Sato, we can explain—"
"You performed *The Weaver's Waltz*."
They froze.
"You revived a cursed memory, rewove a thread long buried, and touched the edge of an entity that does not belong to this world." She turned slowly to face them. "You were very stupid."
Yuzu coughed. "Okay, fair."
Ms. Sato's expression softened slightly. "But you were also brave."
Ayame's voice was barely a whisper. "You knew."
"I knew someone would eventually try," Ms. Sato said. "But I never imagined you'd succeed."
Mio stood. "Who are you, really?"
Ms. Sato smiled faintly. "A teacher. A guardian of sorts. I was once a student here too, long ago. I danced in the background of that very play."
Ayame's heart skipped. "Then you saw it happen?"
"I saw it *start*," she said. "But I wasn't strong enough to stop it. That task fell to the next generation." Her eyes glittered as she looked at them. "To you."
Kael stepped forward. "So what now?"
Ms. Sato tilted her head. "Now? You learn. You train. The Weaver may be dormant, but memory is *always* vulnerable. You five have a gift—not just to see magic, but to preserve what is *true*."
Haru raised his hand half-heartedly. "Do we get, like, official titles?"
Ms. Sato actually smiled. "Only if you survive your next test."
Yuzu groaned. "Why does it sound like summer break is canceled?"
Ayame looked at her friends—tired, confused, bonded forever in a shared mystery. Then she looked at Ms. Sato.
"Will we remember her?" she asked. "Rhiannon?"
Ms. Sato nodded slowly. "You already do. That's why the Weaver lost."
The room hummed for a moment.
A thread, once tangled, now gently stitched.
—
That evening, Ayame and Kael walked beneath the twilight sky.
The stars were faint, scattered like breadcrumbs across a lavender canvas. The air smelled like jasmine and dust. Magic lingered in the bones of the earth.
Ayame leaned against Kael's shoulder. "We're different now."
He nodded. "You feel it too."
"I don't know what we are," she said, "but I know we're not just students anymore."
Kael's hand found hers. "We never were."
They walked in silence for a while, until Ayame said, "Do you think the stars remember us?"
Kael looked up. "They do."
"Even the ugly parts?"
"Especially those." He smiled faintly. "They're what make the melody honest."
Ayame turned to him, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm scared, Kael. Not of the magic, but of what it'll ask from us next."
Kael met her gaze. "Then we face it together. Thread by thread."
Their hands intertwined.
Above them, one star pulsed slightly brighter.
And far, far away—on a plane where memory could no longer be rewritten—Rhiannon sang one final note.
A melody true.
Unbroken.
Remembered.
---