Little Pink Starfish

What Fa Ning was thinking—no one really knew. But one thing was certain: he was doing his job seriously. With the Red-Dressed Woman out of commission, he stepped up and shouldered the responsibilities of the anti-war organization.

Yuan Yuanyuan lay in her room like a corpse. No one bothered her anymore. Occasionally, a few little monsters would sneak over to question her—why had such a large organization been entrusted to him? Their tone carried traces of doubt, which Yuan Yuanyuan could understand. But she didn’t interfere.

This was Fa Ning, after all… a classic, fated protagonist. The Naruto or Luffy type. In any other manga, being accepted into his faction would be a blessing. Going against a shounen protagonist never ends well.

That said, it wasn’t like Yuan Yuanyuan could have intervened anyway… The one with real power in the tavern was the hostess. What she said, went.

The comic portrayed Fa Ning as successfully expanding his influence into the anti-war group. But in truth, it was the hostess’s backing that helped him gain his footing.

Over time, Yuan Yuanyuan had developed her own insights: comics always showed the polished surface, while reality was pure chaos. Just like Naruto constantly talked about passion and friendship, yet she felt like she was stuck in Konoha’s darkest basement cleaning up the messes of psychotic shinobi. Do that long enough, and you start to lose it.

[It’s hard to watch… Fa Ning staying silent for Yuan’s sake.]
[Same. I wonder if Yuan can hear him… I wish I could tell him.]

Yuan Yuanyuan lay in bed, experiencing the most relaxed stretch of her past twenty years. Clothes handed to her, meals served—pure bliss. The hostess truly believed she was pitiful, but Yuan Yuanyuan had long mastered the art of finding joy in misery. And honestly? She really was enjoying herself.

She’d even gained five pounds.

So really, “blissful” was the only word to describe her situation… Lately, with nothing to do, she’d taken to reading comics and fanfiction. One particular fanfic caught her eye—clearly written by someone stressed out by Fa Ning’s current storyline in the comic. The whole thing reeked of unresolved angst.

[Why did Yuan have to die? Why did Yuan have to die? WHY DID YUAN HAVE TO DIE—]

Yuan Yuanyuan devoured the fic. From a writing standpoint, it was above average—strong emotional hooks, both cathartic and heartbreaking.

And somehow, it hit her strange sense of humor dead-on.

“Yuan listened quietly to what Fa Ning was saying. His eyes fluttered, delicate as a trembling butterfly.”

A trembling butterfly…

Yuan Yuanyuan silently pictured Si Qun lying on her eyelid like a moth—blank stare and everything—and shivered.

Sure, Si Qun was usually well-behaved, but having something perched on your eyelid up close was… horrifying.

The fanfic described a world where Yuan had become a ghost-demon—wandering the halls of the anti-war organization, unable to pass on. That brought up a unique concept in the monster world: ghost-demons, a rare and dangerous species. Yuan Yuanyuan had only seen a few herself—the most vivid being a huge gray moth in the northwest.

Ghost-demons were hard to become. The transformation was treacherous, often involuntary. But in fanfics and manga? They popped up like mushrooms—one after another.

In just the past few days, Yuan Yuanyuan had seen multiple stories where Yuan turned into a ghost-demon. Some readers even mistook it for canon. She didn’t know why this trend had started, but from what she could tell, fans felt Yuan’s death was unjust. And since this trope hit all the right emotional buttons and got high engagement, everyone jumped on the bandwagon.

This latest fic followed Fa Ning’s return and described Yuan’s soul hiding in the building—silently watching him from the shadows.

No one could see or touch Yuan anymore. He could only watch… silently.

It hit all of Yuan Yuanyuan’s emotional triggers. If the names were swapped with two different characters, she could completely immerse herself in it.

Too bad the fic-version of Yuan was way too cutesy. Almost out of character. She would never lurk in a corner secretly listening to Fa Ning talk.

If she wanted to listen, she’d do it openly, thank you very much.

Yuan Yuanyuan lay on her bed, blankly staring toward the voice on the other side of the curtain.

What’s with Hinata, huh? Even lying down like this, she can still eavesdrop, and no one can scold her for it.

Lying there in her own private theater, Yuan Yuanyuan started roleplaying—her imagination running wild. She mocked fanfics while reading them, but once alone, she turned into one of those characters herself.

Fa Ning sat silently across the curtain, while Yuan Yuanyuan lay on her bed, her face contorted in pain and conflict…

After about ten seconds of overacting, she suddenly dropped the expression and said flatly, “Not bad. That’ll do.”

“…Oh,” Fa Ning said hesitantly. “I heard from the hostess that your injury was serious. I called Yuan Yingli back. He’ll take a look when he arrives.”

You called HIM back?! Hell no! Yuan Yuanyuan groaned internally. If that guy sees me, I’ll be exposed in seconds!

She twisted her expression again—wincing dramatically—then smoothed her face and said calmly, “No need. It’s not that bad. Just needs time.”

“…Alright. Then… please rest.” Fa Ning said.

“Okay.” At this point, Yuan Yuanyuan was like someone with a split personality: a face full of agony, paired with a totally deadpan tone.

The reasons? One: she was scared. Two: she was awkward. She had a flood of emotions to vent, but couldn’t bring herself to act them out. Too embarrassing. What if he thought she was crazy?

So she stayed hidden behind the curtain, its semi-transparency acting as the perfect barrier. It allowed silhouettes—but no facial details. Which was why she dared to be so extra.

And strangely enough… it felt kinda good. Pretending to be a tragic flower had its own kind of satisfaction. She just never had the chance to do it before.

Eventually, Fa Ning stood up to leave. Yuan Yuanyuan also sat up slightly to see him off. Sitting was manageable, though standing was still hard—her neck injury made it painful to straighten up.

She got a little dizzy as she rose. Being bedridden so long had given her low blood pressure, but lying down was still preferable to aggravating her wound.

Watching Fa Ning’s back as he left, she felt a tiny pang of disappointment. My performance isn’t over! Why are you leaving now?

This wasn’t like a manga or novel—when the character walked away, it wasn’t to go sightseeing. It meant war. And who knew when they’d be back.

She leaned on her hand, staring at his back, wondering… What if he knew the person behind the curtain was Yuan? What would his face look like then?

Maybe… nothing at all?

Yuan Yuanyuan sighed, ready to lie back down.

“Wait,” Fa Ning suddenly turned around. “Milady… I might have a big battle coming up soon.”

“A battle?” Yuan Yuanyuan blinked drowsily. She was still in that groggy, sleep-on-sight mode. “Take care of yourself, then…”

“This one might be… the last,” Fa Ning said softly. “If we win, everything might end. If we lose…”

If they lost… then it’s game over, right?

Yuan Yuanyuan opened her eyes, puzzled by his sudden confession. If she were Yuan, she’d understand why he said that. But right now, she was the Red-Dressed Woman.

Fa Ning spaced out a moment, then suddenly snapped out of it. “Ah… sorry, I spaced out. Please take care of yourself. I’ll be going.”

He turned and left.

Yuan Yuanyuan lay there, dazed, as the candlelight flickered gently beside her.

There were things she didn’t want to say out loud. But the truth was, she’d already had a bad feeling about this. Her wound had taken far too long to heal—it was deeper than she thought.

She stared into the flame, slowly getting lost in thought.

I wonder… what kind of ending they’ve written for my character.