Mahou Shoujo Ikusei Keikaku - Volume 6 - Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

THE ARRIVAL

  Funny Trick (Time remaining: thirteen hours, fifty minutes)

For as long as she could remember, Funny Trick—Kayo Nemura—had lived in the shadow of a monster.

That monster was her childhood friend, Umi Shibahara. The word fit her far better than it did Miss Nozomi Himeno, who had been nicknamed Monster. Umi rampaged and destroyed. There was no resisting her, no turning her away.

The children ranked one another by physical strength. Umi Shibahara’s exceptional physical prowess prohibited open resistance, so any complaints about her were whispered in secret and instead dumped on Kayo. Kids said Kayo was using Umi’s presence to play the badass, that she was a suck-up to the top dog, that she acted all bossy because she had Umi but couldn’t do anything by herself. Of course, people bad-mouthed Umi, too, but more so Kayo.

The reality was nothing like that. Kayo never felt being with Umi had brought her anything good. She would’ve rather not ever hung around her, if possible. She just couldn’t fight Umi. Umi wouldn’t leave her alone. Opposing her meant you’d get yourself beaten up, and Kayo wouldn’t risk that for anything. She didn’t even want to imagine getting punched or kicked by someone with the strength and endurance to break the climbing pole in the playground with a kick or swing around the biggest horizontal bar continuously for five minutes.

If I could get strong, too, at least, maybe things would be different, Kayo had thought, so she begged her parents to let her take a karate class, swearing she would work hard at it.

Kayo’s karate instructor had taught her that physical strength wasn’t enough to make you a strong person; what was important was strength of the heart. Her circumstances being what they were, Kayo had been impressed to the point of tears.

Yes, physical strength alone didn’t make you strong. If she were calm and had a strong heart, she wouldn’t feel so tormented by Umi. Kayo would never survive being around an outlaw like Umi, who lived for violence. The one she should be looking up to was her karate instructor.

Thinking back, he may have been Kayo’s first crush. The man had been over forty years old, and Kayo had still just been in elementary school, but even so, Kayo’s heart had burned with passion. This was someone she could follow, someone different from Umi, someone she wanted to be with.

Umi had pulverized those feelings. Kayo had spurned her one day, saying she was going to the karate dojo after school and wouldn’t be able to hang out, to which Umi had given her a disgruntled look. That very day, Umi went to the karate dojo, beat the crap out of the coach and instructor, and made off with the dojo sign before departing, triumphant. Even a real outlaw didn’t have to do it like that, right? The next day, there was a FOR SALE sign nailed to the dojo door, and Kayo’s despair deepened.

Kayo’s conviction that she just had to get away from Umi strengthened, and she threw herself into her studies. If she were to move on to a public middle school, Umi would follow her around forever until graduation day. But if she could go to a different school, any previous relationships would be rendered inaccessible. Her new life would be constructed based on her new school. Her and Umi’s friendship would naturally weaken before fading away.

Wholeheartedly determined, Kayo poured all her time and attention into her schoolwork. She told only her parents and teachers that she was going to take private-school entrance exams and took care not to run into other students when she went for interviews and practice tests. She also impressed upon her parents and teachers not to tell anyone. Even as she was forced to go on Umi’s “adventures,” she whittled down her sleeping hours to study for entrance exams. She’d always been good at memorization, and with the powerful motivation of wanting to escape from Umi on top of that, the task wasn’t at all a struggle.

After doing everything she could, Kayo confronted the exams. She took the utmost caution with her health, too, fending off illness with good food and vaccinations. There were a number of students from her school at Namiyama Middle School, where the exams were being held, and they were surprised to see Kayo there, since she’d hidden that she would be taking the exams. But more than that, they were surprised to see Umi there. Kayo was shocked, too. Why was she there?

When she ran into her at the exam site, it felt like a bad joke. Nobody was supposed to have told Umi she would be there. So then how did Umi know about Kayo taking the exams, and why was she acting like it was obvious the two of them would take them together?

Kayo shook her head vigorously in an attempt to get a grip on herself.

Umi’s grades were average at best. She’d hardly studied, and even if she’d found out somewhere that Kayo was taking the exams and figured she’d give it a shot, too, there was no way she would get the results she wanted. Namiyama Middle School was one of the top three university-oriented schools in the prefecture. Umi hadn’t gone to cram school, nor had she studied for this exam. She’d spent all her time fooling around, so she was bound to fail, and Kayo alone would pass. In which case, there would be no problem.

In the end, both of them passed. Umi bragged that she’d stayed awake for three days to cram, but had she actually managed to pass just by doing that? Once Kayo started at her new school, she heard rumors that the Shibahara family was one of the biggest landowners in the area and that they’d donated a large sum to the school.

Kayo couldn’t withdraw her entrance now. She felt certain that even if she did, Umi would continue to pursue her anyway. She didn’t know why Umi was so interested in her. It wasn’t as if she enjoyed violence, and she wasn’t particularly bold. Physically, she was extremely average. She couldn’t squeeze an adult’s wrist in one hand until their bones fractured, like Umi could.

No matter how Kayo struggled, she couldn’t escape. So Kayo resigned herself and accepted it.

She couldn’t oppose Umi. Everything went just as Umi wanted it. They even ended up becoming magical girls, something that fundamentally shouldn’t even exist. It happened because Umi wanted it. No matter how Kayo rejected the idea, no matter how she insisted there was no way something like this could be real, nobody would listen to her. When Umi stirred them all up, urging them all to work together and beat the evil mages, everyone followed her. Umi could be dealing with the class rep or a teacher or the fairy who’d given them their power; it didn’t matter to her. She was the neighborhood bully, and no matter what sort of authority or benefactor someone was to her, if she didn’t like them, she would punch them and move on.

Kayo had thought that maybe things would change a little, once she became a magical girl. But they didn’t.

Even among magical girls, Umi’s—Captain Grace’s—strength was a cut above.

First of all, she was fantastically strong. She was clearly much more capable than even other magical girls, and Funny Trick, Kayo’s magical-girl form, was not at all weak. She may have been strongest, after Captain Grace. But as long as Captain Grace was there, she would never be first. And what was more, she swung around that weapon she’d only acquired that very day to her heart’s content and made good use of her magic pirate ship and the equipment in it.

Even as a magical girl, the combat experience and fighting spirit Umi had cultivated through many years of violent incidents were useful to Captain Grace. She always stood in the front line to fight their enemies, facing even that formidable Bunny Ears girl without any timidity at all, ignoring the bleeding of her injury, giving chase when Bunny Ears ran away. Kayo grew even more resigned as she watched her go. There was nothing she could do about that creature. It wasn’t as if getting magical powers would change her fundamental nature. In fact, she got the feeling that those powers had made her nature all the more apparent.

Following this, Captain Grace also fought with the mysterious black sphere and beat it. She took some hits and shed some blood, and her limbs were streaked with it. Without Funny Trick’s support, it would have been close. But though it couldn’t have been anything you could call an easy victory, Grace looked like she was having fun. She didn’t look at all tired as she immediately headed out to the next fight. Seeing this exasperated Funny Trick, as she was sure Grace would never stop moving until she was dead.

Was it because of the amazing endurance magical girls had or their superior powers of recovery? Or was it due to Umi’s own inborn nature? Captain Grace didn’t see her injuries as such, treating her wounds as nothing more than mere scratches as she wandered about in search of even more foes.

Funny Trick couldn’t understand any of it. She couldn’t understand that enemy who spoke in a foreign language. She couldn’t understand it when Umi was attacked by that black corroding stuff, got half her head erased, and then fell. She couldn’t understand why it had all ended up like this.

Still dazed, Funny Trick was tied up and taken somewhere, where an ally of the magical girl who had killed Umi told her, “That pirate’s death brought you joy.”

In less than the time it took to blink, her brain, which had been refusing to work at all, was set ablaze. She was tortured by a fever hot enough to fry her brain as she screamed and denied it.

She hadn’t been glad about it. She hadn’t been there out of joy. She’d been frozen, unable to accept the fact that Umi Shibahara, the girl she’d always wished would go away, was dying so easily before her eyes as she squeezed Umi’s hand in hers.

Umi couldn’t die here. How could that monster die in a place like this?

Kayo screamed and wailed, and the fencer threw a plate at her, so she shut her mouth.

Inside her heart, she was going berserk, while simultaneously, it was all starting to converge on one point. She would absolutely not forgive these magical girls. She would make them pay an appropriate price. They had denigrated the whole of Kayo’s life. In everything, Umi had always been there. So many times, she had felt Umi was an aggravating, bothersome pain in her ass and wished her gone. Umi had taken her into crises and put her in danger but still smiled boldly to say, “That was fun, huh?” Hanging around with Umi made people think of Kayo as nothing more than an errand girl, Umi’s attendant, treated as an accessory, and some would talk dirt about her behind her back, and though Umi silenced those people with violence, and eventually, no more people were reckless enough to say anything bad about her, nobody but Umi would ever hang out with Kayo anymore, either. Every day, she’d thought, if only Umi were gone, maybe she would’ve had lots of friends.

Umi had been an arrogant, tyrannical egotist who figured all she needed was to have a good time. Kayo had hated her and wished she would go away, but somewhere in her heart, she really had admired her.

Funny Trick clenched her teeth, hard. Now Umi was dead, and these people had killed her.

The patchwork magical girl was eating her ham with gusto.

The fencer was speaking with the fortune-teller in a foreign language. Weddin was at the fencer’s side, waiting on her.

It seemed the fortune-teller was trying to rebuke the fencer.

The one making those sizzling oil sounds in the kitchen had to be the guitarist.

Nobody was looking at Funny Trick. Their eyes were not on her but on Bunny Ears, who was similarly tied up on the floor. The fencer and the fortune-teller both approached Bunny Ears with the sort of respect you showed an opponent you had to be careful with. Compared to her, Funny Trick didn’t matter. They figured they could just leave her alone.

Umi had always said, “If they underestimate me, that’s good for me. Morons who play it like they don’t even care are easy to punch right in the face.”

Funny Trick heard herself swallowing her own spit. If they thought she was nothing, that would make the job easier—or it should.

A magical girl’s appearance had some connection to her abilities and nature. There had been no exceptions to this among the various girls Funny Trick had encountered thus far. The rabbit was canny and fast. The fencer and the pirate were good at sword fighting. The lamp genie flew through the air.

So then what could a stage magician do?

Once more, Funny Trick made sure nobody was paying attention to her and then firmly arched her back. She passed her head through the loop of her bound arms, and then, arching like a reversed shrimp, she touched her wrists and ankles behind her, then bent back in the opposite direction to touch her wrists and ankles in front. She twisted her wrists experimentally. The rope was firm and tight, but there was a bit of slack, just enough to create room to move her wrists a little.

She quickly returned to her original position, slumped languidly on the floor. The patchwork girl was engrossed in her meal, the fencer and the fortune-teller were deep in conversation, the guitarist was still out of the room, and Weddin was zoned out. Nobody was looking at Funny Trick.

Obviously, a stage magician could escape from rope, at least. Funny Trick’s joints were flexible and could move around quite freely. But even if she were to escape from here, she wouldn’t get anywhere. She’d just get caught right away. She had to choose the right moment, somehow, and hit the enemy hard when she did it.

Recalling that Umi had once said, “When you’re in trouble, your biggest opportunities are waiting for you,” Funny Trick stirred a little.

  Pythie Frederica (Time remaining: thirteen hours, thirty minutes)

It wasn’t that hard to obtain people’s personal information. If you ignored the law, didn’t mind trying some slightly sketchy things, and topped it off with some violence, it was startlingly easy.

First, Frederica had Weddin guide them to Namiyama Middle School so they could break in. She had Weddin and Pukin wait inside their car, parked in front of the school gates, and left Tot Pop there as well to keep an eye on them while Sonia and Frederica headed in. Sonia disintegrated the lock on the staff entrance, and using a rough sketch as her guide, Frederica ransacked the lockers and the teachers’ office. Even if there was no night-duty teacher doing rounds, the school would have a contracted security company, so they should assume it was already known that they had broken in. Frederica could deal with ten or twenty security guards by herself and have change to spare, but it was best to keep the ruckus to a minimum.

Sonia’s original calling had been a highwayman, so she was used to figuring out what was good to grab and quickly gathering it together. Frederica had experience as a sneak thief, gathering hair. Sonia snatched up all the documents that seemed relevant and hauled them away, while Frederica harvested whatever fallen hairs caught her eye. The two experts finished up their work in five minutes, then returned to where the car was parked at the front gates and set off.

The homeroom teacher of class 2-A was Nozomi Himeno—Kuru-Kuru Hime. They would go for her first, since she was easier to research than the students. This would be easiest if Frederica could get ahold of some of her hair, but Nozomi Himeno’s hair was not among the strands she’d managed to acquire at the school. When Frederica went over the gathered tresses, she discovered it was all from men but wrapped it all away in a slip of paper, just in case.

Nozomi Himeno’s home address was not written on any of the documents Sonia had gathered, either. But there was some kind of page of contacts. This sheet of paper had names that looked like those of teachers as well as phone numbers printed on it. It seemed they didn’t guard teachers’ private information as closely as that of students.

This was how Frederica acquired Nozomi Himeno’s phone number, and then she looked up the number in the directory to get her address. Fortunately, the home phone number of one Miss Himeno was written there.

Frederica told the address to Weddin and asked her to show the way. Checking against the city map they got from the school, they made it to Nozomi Himeno’s house, where, just as always, they made Sonia break in, and then they killed the elderly man who was there before he could make too much noise. Now, she just had to fish around the place.

Weddin had said that Himeno was young, still in her twenties. The man Pukin had killed had been rather old to be her husband. He must have been her father. There were two kinds of hair inside the house: those belonging to that man and those of a young woman. It must have been just the two of them living there.

Frederica left the house, tucking only the woman’s hair into her slip of paper. With this hair, she could find where Himeno was right now.

  Ripple (Time remaining: thirteen hours, eleven minutes)

“What’s this…?”

“Oh, you use it like this.” Mana turned away from Ripple, toward the wall. She raised the painted-black wooden stick in her right hand, muttered the few words of an incantation and made a sign with her left, and the stick fired a tiny flame out like a bullet. It was about thumb-sized, and it hit the sink, leaving a black scorch mark. Neither its power not its speed seemed like something to count on.

As Ripple looked at the staff, these thoughts in mind, Mana turned back to her, a disgruntled pout on her face. “You were just thinking, oh, is that it? weren’t you? I’ve just turned down the power for indoor use, you know. If you turn it up to max, it’s enough to burn a magical girl.”

“…I wasn’t.” Ripple wondered if Mana had read her mind, but it seemed that wasn’t the case. Ripple didn’t believe her manner had given away her thoughts, so Mana must also have been aware that this weapon was nothing much and had been anticipating that reaction.

Ripple’s friend, the magical girl Snow White, could read minds. Recalling the conversations they had, she cracked a little smile but then noticed Mana glaring at her and stiffened her expression. “…Pardon me.”

“Hmph. It’s fine. It is a shabby weapon. You magical girls could throw harder and faster with your bare hands. But…” Mana adjusted her glasses and shot Ripple a look. “Don’t underestimate it.”

“…All right.”

“Respect it.”

“…All right.”

“Okay, so listen up. I’ll explain the next thing to you.”

They’d taken up quite a bit of time with all the detail-hashing, yelling, attempts at calming, and begging that had gone on during their discussion to decide what they would do. Afterward, they’d had to slow down to Mana’s human speed when moving to a new location, which had also been fairly time-consuming. Meanwhile, the clock was ticking, and the moment when the barrier would be undone loomed. Ripple checked the time on her magical phone. At this point, that was all the device was good for.

Ripple, Mana, 7753, and Kuru-Kuru Hime had all left the rooftop that had been their designated meeting spot for emergencies to go hide in a seemingly abandoned private residence located about ten minutes away on foot. It was an old bungalow, about 550 square feet, and had no yard. There was a garage, but it was really rusted up, and it required magical girl–level strength just to raise or lower the door.

The interior was scattered with blue plastic sheets, empty instant ramen cups, bottles of shochu, and other junk, and a sour odor wafted around. The tatami were terribly rotten—so much so that you’d sink into them unpleasantly if you sat down.

It seemed someone did live here—be that legally or not. They’d found traces of occupancy, but no one was around.

“It’s probably just a squatter anyway,” said Mana. “They won’t show up when there’s more of us. If they come to complain about us, just wave them off.”

“…All right.”

7753 had said that Pukin’s magic could control minds. Ripple was surprised and impressed at how informed 7753 was, thinking, I suppose she’s capable, after all. It was quite possible that she feigned timidity as she observed their activities during critical situations. I’ll have to be careful, thought Ripple.

If Hana or Archfiend Pam fell under Pukin’s mind-control magic, then their emergency meetup location would be leaked to the enemy. They could just end up standing around waiting for the enemy to attack. So they moved their headquarters.

Mana had entrusted the telescope she’d pulled out of her magic bag to 7753, who was spying through the curtains to keep watch on the building roof that had been their previous emergency gathering spot. If Hana or Archfiend Pam arrived—and though Ripple didn’t want to think about it much, if the enemy showed up—they would be notified.

Kuru-Kuru Hime was back in her human form, turned away from the group to use her smartphone. As she had said herself, the fact that she was a magical girl had already been confirmed through 7753’s goggles.

Mana was explaining to Ripple about all the items she had on her. Ripple’s magic was to throw items with a 100 percent hit rate. At present, all she had were the kunai and shuriken that were accessories to her costume. If there were other magical weapons for her use, those could be more powerful, which would be convenient. So Ripple had told Mana that if she had anything appropriate for throwing, she would like Mana to give it to her.

Mana had seemed reluctant but showed her, since this was an emergency situation. “This stick is the staff of fire. You use sigils and incantations to make it shoot flame bullets.”

That didn’t seem particularly useful.

“I’ve also got a magic telescope that has X-ray vision, a hat that amplifies magic power, a magic cape stronger than armor, magic tights that never get runs, and a magical school uniform.”

The telescope, stockings, and uniform aside, the hat and cape seemed strong. They were both dark colored, and the hat was a three-cornered pointed hat with a sun-shaped decoration. It was a so-called witch’s hat. Ripple’s old partner had worn something similar.

“Oh, the hat and cape are for mages,” Mana explained, “so they’d just be regular clothes if a magical girl wore them.”

So they weren’t useful after all. Why had she bothered showing Ripple?

“There’s a magic bag into which you can shove as much as you want and pull it out when you want, as long as it’s of a size you can carry.”

Ripple possessed a similar sack herself. It couldn’t be used for combat directly, but it could be useful for stuffing with throwing weapons.

“Sturdy magic rope. It should be hard to tear, even with your magical-girl strength.”

Ripple tugged it to test it, and it was pretty sturdy. At the very least, Ripple couldn’t tear it with her own might. It was about fifty feet long—not long enough to weave into a casting net—but if she were to put a weight on it, it could make a capturing tool to tangle around someone’s legs, at least.

“And these.” Mana rolled out a smooth sphere about two inches wide, with a metal fitting that looked like a lever. Ripple had seen similar objects before—or rather, she’d had them thrown at her before.

“…A grenade?”

“No, it’s a smoke bomb. I’d need permission from the section manager to take lethal weapons like grenades. If I’m going to withdraw something under my authority as team leader, smoke bombs are best.”

In order for Ripple to use her magic effectively, she had to see where she was throwing. She was fairly accurate if she just threw in the general direction, but ultimately, that was just “fairly accurate.” Her magic wasn’t very compatible with smoke bombs, since they would block her vision.

Whatever she thought of Ripple, who was staring at the smoke bomb in her palm, Mana pouted. “You think smoke bombs are worthless, don’t you?”

“No, nothing like that…”

“You’ve been like that the whole time. You’re undervaluing these weapons as dull. You’re not being constructive at all, not even trying to work something out with what we have on hand. Nothing but complaints with you.”

“No…”

“It doesn’t just spit out smoke. There’s a little explosion when it goes off. It’s powerful enough that if you were to hold it in your hand, your fingers would fly off.”

As far as Ripple knew, no enemy would be so kind as to pick up a ball that for all appearances was so obviously a grenade. Perhaps if she were to time the explosion and throw it at the enemy… But she figured it would be difficult to time the explosion of a weapon she’d only just now seen for the first time. Worst case, Ripple would get her own fingers blown off.

“And these.” Mana pulled out a pack of ten syringes with attached finger grips. It included ampoules full of dark-green liquid, as well as glass bottles packed with round white tablets. “These tablets stabilize the mind and numb physical pain. The ampoules are used as a set with the syringes to temporarily amplify physical abilities. Using too much will have side effects and aftereffects and such. Neither of these can be used by magical girls, since this medicine is used to gain the physical prowess and mental strength of a magical girl.”

As medical equipment, the syringes were not made for throwing or stabbing. Considering how delicate they likely were, it would be hard to use them in combat.

“Oh, and the car. There’s magic in the car we’ve been using.”

There was no way Ripple could throw the car.

“So was there anything in here you could use?”

“I’ll take the rope.”

“What about the smoke grenades?”

“…And one of those, too.”

Mana seemed quite triumphant for whatever reason as she watched Ripple tuck a smoke bomb into her sleeve pocket.

Ripple felt morose. It was completely obvious Mana was using showing off her items as a distraction to avoid worrying about Hana.

Mana was stubborn and self-important. She would never forgive anyone who humiliated her, she equated loss with death, and her pride was connected to her occupational ethics. She hated being looked down on and hated people to begin with, too, but she was forced to deal with them in order to get by. She was also moody in the sense that, if something happened that she couldn’t tolerate, she would lash out thoughtlessly but regret it afterward and make a token effort of kindness toward the victim of her temper. Then she would rationalize this in her mind, thinking, What’s wrong with humiliating someone who humiliated me?

Ripple had been the same way a few years ago. Having her old self shoved in her face like this felt unbearable. But seeing how Mana expressed her feelings for Hana, she thought maybe Mana was more honest with her feelings than Ripple had once been. That made Ripple want Hana to come back safe. 7753 had mentioned the escaped prisoners were especially dangerous enemies, and what’s more, among them was a magical girl Ripple had once fought herself.

Pythie Frederica.

If Calamity Mary, who had slaughtered passing civilians, was villainous scum, and Cranberry, Musician of the Forest, who had taken out her dissatisfaction with standard examinations on unknowing examinees, was disastrous scum, then Pythie Frederica was the worst scum of all. Ripple had never wanted to run into her, ever again. Ripple had been aware that the Magical Kingdom’s observational system for magical girls was full of holes, but they had to do a decent job with their prisons, at least. Rather than letting scum like that run loose in the world again, it would be better to have no prisons at all. One-shot out—execution—was enough.

Ripple prayed that Hana was safe and not captured or killed by Pythie. After a moment’s pause, she prayed for Archfiend Pam’s safety, too.

I paused for a moment because they said Archfiend Pam was really strong, she thought, then laughed at herself, since the thought sounded like an excuse she was trying to make to someone. Apparently, Archfiend Pam had been Cranberry’s teacher. Ripple had never faced Cranberry directly, but of course, she harbored no fond feelings for her. Lots of people had died at her hand. Ripple, who had survived, had lost an arm and an eye, and Snow White had suffered injuries beyond losing body parts.

Ripple figured it might be wrong to place the blame on Pam all because she was Cranberry’s master, but she also thought that maybe if Pam had taught Cranberry a little better, things would have turned out differently. She also kind of wanted Pam to tell her about what kind of magical girl her master had been, though she also doubted such knowledge would change anything.

Ripple ran her finger along the rotten flooring, pulled out a tuft of the tatami, and blew it away. She felt like these were terribly birdbrained thoughts to have, and once more, she prayed for Hana and Archfiend Pam’s safety.

  Kuru-Kuru Hime (Time remaining: twelve hours, ten minutes)

Kuru-Kuru Hime realized something.

For some reason, she couldn’t use her magical phone. Ripple and the others said they couldn’t use theirs anymore, either. So what about using her normal cell phone? She detransformed, returning to Nozomi Himeno, and pulled her smartphone out from her coat pocket. She called the time to test it out and found it did, in fact, tell it to her.

If she could use her cell phone, then that meant two cell phones could make contact.

It seemed Ripple and her allies had not brought any other methods of contact but magical phones to begin with. But this wasn’t the case for Nozomi’s group, since they hadn’t even known the term “magical phone” until ten hours ago. The school rule of no cell phones was famously not enforced, and the majority of students secretly carried them. This was an open secret that even the teachers were aware of. So if any one of them who had phones could be contacted…

Nozomi had lots of things to tell them.

That she was safe.

That Toko was suspect.

That the people they’d taken to be enemies, the ones they’d been fighting, didn’t seem to be all that bad. When Ripple had suddenly grabbed her by the lapels, Kuru-Kuru Hime had frozen up and wondered what was happening to her. But once they talked, she discovered Ripple was not a bad person at all. In fact, it seemed she was on the side of those trying to get the bad guys under control. Mana had a temper, 7753 was jumpy, and Ripple was curt, but they seemed more trustworthy than that fairy who had twisted her arm and tried to take her students hostage.

She also wanted to tell the others that some serious criminals had escaped from prison to lurk in this city. Also, where she was now. She wanted to join up with the others first thing.

There were things she wanted them to tell her, too. Most of all, she wanted to know that they were safe.

She could use her cell phone to call them, but she didn’t know their numbers. Nozomi considered how she might find out and came up with the idea to ask their mutual connections. The kids would have friends, and those friends should know their numbers.

She would get the address list for the students in class 2-A, which was at her house, and contact the kids from class A to see if anyone knew the cell numbers of Mine Musubiya in class D, Kayo Nemura and Umi Shibahara in class C, or the first-years, Tatsuko Sakaki and Kaori Ninotsugi. Normally, calling students at this hour was out of the question, but now was not the time for reservations. The students’ lives and her own life were hanging in the balance.

Nozomi called home. The sky was starting to grow light.

Her fingertips trembled, and she couldn’t dial the numbers right. She pressed her hand against her chest. Putting her phone down on the tatami, she held her right hand in her left to stop the trembling and carefully pushed each number one by one. It rang.

Mana and Ripple were both looking at her. 7753 put down her telescope, too, turning around to look, until Mana glared at her, and she quickly returned to her earlier position. Nozomi counted the rings, and after fifteen tones, it connected to the voice mail service and hung up. She called one more time, but it connected to voice mail, just as before.

No one was picking up. Her father was at home, probably sleeping, but he wasn’t at all a deep sleeper. He’d woken up over a level-two earthquake more than a few times, coming to knock on the door to Nozomi’s room when she was still fast asleep. Every time there was an earthquake at night, he’d worried about Nozomi, who slept like a rock. Her father wasn’t only sensitive to vibrations but to noises as well. He was the one to take emergency calls at night, because Nozomi wouldn’t wake up.

Did I call the wrong number? she wondered, rattled. She could have easily misdialed a number when it was a full ten digits, including the area code. Oh, wait—she didn’t have to dial in the whole number. It was registered in her phone. She always just went for autodial when she called home, so why had she dialed up the number when she didn’t have to?

Her chest hurt so much she felt like it would explode from the inside. No matter how Nozomi tried to restrain the pounding, it wouldn’t settle. She could even feel nausea welling up inside her. Nozomi withdrew her hand from her phone and transformed into a magical girl. Her heartbeat quieted. The unbearable pain in her chest calmed. It seemed Toko hadn’t been lying when she explained how turning into a magical girl made you mentally stronger.

From the list of registered numbers, Kuru-Kuru Hime selected HOME and pushed it. The phone rang fifteen times, then connected to voice mail. She hugged her phone to her chest. She didn’t understand why her father wasn’t answering the phone. Unease built inside her.

Suddenly, she felt a shock. It hit her in the chest, knocking her over onto her back. Ripple had pushed her down. Kuru-Kuru Hime couldn’t understand what had happened, and before she could shoot out any ribbon, Ripple spun around and threw a kunai. A hand floating in the air disappeared right before the kunai hit it, and without a target, the kunai stuck in the ceiling, sending dust pattering down.

“That’s Pythie Frederica’s magic! She has hair from one of us!” Ripple yelled.

7753’s trembling voice followed with, “There’s a red car coming straight for us!”

  Pythie Frederica (Time remaining: eleven hours, fifty minutes)

She’d forgotten Ripple was there.

Ripple knew all about Frederica’s magic. After all, she’d fought with her before. Despite nothing being around her, Ripple would always stay cautious, even indoors. She had reacted instantly when that hand had appeared out of thin air.

It was all because of Kuru-Kuru Hime’s hair. It had been so beautiful as Frederica had looked down on it from behind, she couldn’t help but reach out to it. The adorably styled ringlets in her hair were so gorgeous that even inside that run-down old shack, they had stimulated Frederica’s appetites of the flesh.

But still, she’d resisted the urge once. Frederica checked in the room, seeing the number of people occupying it, and found 7753 from Magical Girl Resources, and just as Hana had said, there was Mana, too. A smirk blossomed on Frederica’s face when she spotted Ripple. Though magical girls didn’t physically age, Ripple now looked more intense. She’d lost her former naïveté—and to good effect. Frederica could see no useless pride or stubbornness in her. She’d become flexible. Even now that she’d fled from her enemies to cram with her allies into an abandoned building, she wasn’t getting emotional, and she moved with grace and softness.

Frederica had resisted temptation the second time she saw them, too. When she told Weddin she could see a tall building out the window, Weddin replied with the general area that building might be in, and they’d sped off in that direction in their car.

The third time, Frederica had been unable to resist. They were able to triangulate the building’s location from a street sign and the placard of a candy shop visible from the window of the abandoned building where their targets were hiding. The moment before their arrival, Frederica reached her hand out, and Ripple responded immediately. Frederica just barely avoided getting skewered. If her wrist had been stabbed during her distance manipulation, she wouldn’t have been able to retract her arm, which would have handicapped her terribly. The last time that had happened, her ankle had been seriously wounded as well, and literally unable to lay even a finger on her opponent, she’d been beaten to a pulp.

I refuse to let that happen again.

She wavered for a moment but then decided this was something she should be honest about. “I’m sorry. I tried to attack them but failed.”

“Oh-ho. Then it seems this foe is not to be underestimated,” said Pukin.

“There.” Weddin pointed ahead. A compact car broke through the garage door to flee the scene. Its windows were all gray, and Frederica couldn’t see into it. The windows weren’t tinted, but rather, the inside of the car was filled with something. It made a sharp turn, practically drifting, then raced straight down the road.

Frederica looked at her crystal ball. Her vision was entirely blocked by gray—it appeared to be a smoke screen of some kind. Ripple had probably given the orders to block Frederica’s view. But now they’re in trouble, too, being inside that smoke screen, thought Frederica with a chuckle. Her crystal ball couldn’t transmit sound, but she could practically hear them coughing and spluttering. Ripple was bound to suck it up, though.

“Well then, why don’t we have ourselves a game of tag?” Frederica suggested.

Pukin smiled. “A car chase would be a fine diversion! We’ve always wanted to give one a go!”

Frederica didn’t think they had to bother chasing down this car, but she also figured it was best to let Pukin do what she wanted—especially since she’d just screwed up. Arguing at this point would only sour Pukin’s mood.

“Can you do a car chase?”

“Ha-ha-ha! Tot’s not so bad at this sorta thing, y’know.”

At a glance, a car chase seemed like a good time, but Frederica considered where issues might come up. If Ripple were to attack the car tires with her projectiles, they would have a hard time dodging. “Please make sure we can abandon the vehicle if needed. This car isn’t as sturdy as we are. I doubt it will hold up if it’s hit by an enemy attack.”

“So be it.”

“Right.”

“Roger!”

Gray smoke rose out from the cracks of the car windows. Even more smoke lingered within, and they couldn’t see through the rear window to what was going on inside. Ripple and the others had to be hobbling themselves by prioritizing blocking Frederica’s vision.

Frederica’s party was struggling a bit, too. She tapped her right middle finger on her temple. Was there nothing else she should be considering? Following Pukin’s whims was amusing enough, but this also meant Frederica had that many more things to take into consideration.

It turned out she didn’t have to worry about Tot Pop’s driving skills. She drove well—if too fast. What about vehicle performance? Compared to this car, the Fury was faster, even if it was an older vehicle. However, they had a lot of people crammed in there: Tot Pop in the driver’s seat, Frederica riding shotgun, and Pukin crammed in the middle back seat, Weddin leaning coquettishly against her.

And then there was Sonia, sitting and holding Hana, who was completely tied up and blindfolded and even had her ears covered. If Hana knew the general position of her target, then she would use her magic on them. Only by covering her eyes with a magic blindfold that didn’t let any light through and using magic earmuffs that didn’t let any sound through could they finally lug her around. What’s more, Frederica had also explained explicitly to Sonia that if Hana did anything funny, she was to kill her immediately, and she had ensured Hana heard this as well. Hana’s magic could disable an opponent but was not suited to anything lethal. So Frederica had informed Hana that if she were to use her magic on Sonia when she couldn’t even resolve her fundamental quandary, she would die for nothing.

Hana had that much value as a hostage to use against the inspection team. They had a strong sense of group unity, and that meant they cared for their allies.

Funny Trick lay on the floor of the back seat. She was tied up with her hands behind her back but was treated with less care—the reality of the difference in treatment between an amateur and an expert expressed most plainly.

In total, there were seven magical girls in one car, and although it was a large one, this many occupants made things a bit cramped. The faint, sweet smell of each person’s breath mingled in the air, filling the vehicle. Frederica inhaled deeply through her nose, her lungs filling with the scent along with sheer bliss, then slowly breathed out again.

They were gradually approaching the other car. As long as they weren’t competing over tight turns or fuel consumption, they would naturally catch up. The other car was not venturing into back roads and seemed to choose major avenues as it raced along.

Wait. Deliberately choosing major roads?

If they’re going to flee, couldn’t there be a better way for them to do it? As soon as the thought crossed Frederica’s mind, the compact car, speeding down the middle of the four-lane highway at over sixty miles per hour, suddenly crashed.

Before she could even think about what had just happened, her body moved. Pukin, Sonia, and Frederica all acted at once, kicking open the doors or breaking the window glass from the inside to jump out. Tot Pop moved a heartbeat behind the others, holding on to the wheel in the driver’s seat until the very last minute.

The Fury swerved to avoid the crushed vehicle and plunged into the shoulder of the road. It crashed right into a telephone pole, snapping it in half and crushing a vending machine, before finally coming to a stop as it hit the flank of a thick gatepost. American cars were just more sturdily made. Even after all of that, it still maintained its original shape.

All the occupants aside from Tot Pop had leaped out the sides of the car and were fine. Since Tot Pop had turned the car before leaping out, she was tossed toward the compact car. She sandwiched her guitar between her body and the vehicle, hit something invisible with a heavy crash, and went flying once again. That was when Frederica finally remembered: the barrier.

Frederica put her crystal ball away inside her skirt and approached Tot Pop. She grabbed her by her sides and lifted her up. She didn’t seem to be injured. “Are you all right?”

“Just barely okay…I guess.” Tot Pop was staggering but could stand on her feet even without support. She patted the dirt off her guitar, sighed, and grumbled, “What a mess.”

Sonia tossed Hana down onto the road and approached the wreckage. She put her hand on its body, corroded it until it turned black, and peeled it off. All that came out was smoke—there was no one inside.

“…It was remote controlled?” Frederica murmured.

“Master, they lured us here, didn’t they?”

Pukin looked over at Frederica, who was beside Weddin. It seemed when she’d busted out of the car, she’d grabbed the girl by the collar or something to escape together. “Just what is going on?”

Frederica could tell from Pukin’s expression that she was in a less than favorable mood. The original cause of this situation was her choice to engage in a car chase to appease Pukin’s whim, but if Frederica were to point that out, Pukin’s already sour mood was bound to get worse.

In as apologetic a tone as possible, Frederica replied, “I’m terribly sorry. It seems we’ve been had.”

The barrier here prevented anything magical from passing through. Since the car had suddenly crashed on a road which, at a glance, looked quite empty. That meant the barrier was here and also that the car itself was magical in nature. Their opponents had set this remote-controlled car running off toward the barrier and escaped while Frederica and company were busy chasing it. They had confused Frederica’s magic by setting off two smoke bombs: one in the room, one inside the car. That’s quite smart, Frederica thought, impressed.

“What shall we do now?” Pukin was not in a good mood, after all.

“This is no issue. As long as we have Nozomi Himeno’s hair, we can trace their whereabouts.”

This trick had ultimately just bought them time. Their own party was all magical girls, while their opponents had Mana, who was not a magical girl, among them. In a game of tag, their own side was superior in both endurance and speed.

Frederica was about to pull out her crystal ball again when she noticed something wasn’t right. She ran her finger under her skirt, and then when her finger touched the belt where her crystal ball was supposed to be, she confirmed her suspicion. What she pulled out from under her skirt was not her crystal ball. It was a fist-sized rock.

Frederica approached the smoking Fury. All four of its doors were open. Of course they were—everyone had escaped. Frederica peered inside the car.

What on earth…?

The rope was just lying in there. It hadn’t been cut or torn up. It was as it had been, knots included.

Funny Trick, who should have been tied up there, was gone.

The crystal ball, which should have been tucked under her skirt, was also gone. Funny Trick may have been able to use her magic to switch the two items.

“Frederica! Whatever is the matter?” Pukin cried.

  Postarie (Time remaining: eleven hours, thirty-eight minutes)

Tatsuko Sakaki was a truly, hopelessly withdrawn coward, down to the very depths of her soul. She was scared to talk to anyone outside her own family. The more she thought about how she didn’t want people to hate her, the more her lips would falter; she’d get tongue-tied, her voice would grow quieter, she would get harder to hear; then she would start stuttering, too, and whoever she was talking to would respond with disappointment or anger or taunts before finally leaving.

She had been like that since before she could even remember. When the other children had gathered to play tag, she’d merely watched them but never tried to approach. When others had come to tug on her hand, trying to get her to play together, they would see her uneasy, shy squirming and, gradually, had stopped inviting her.

The preschool had called her parents about her behavior every day out of concern. But Tatsuko wasn’t averse to preschool, and she could talk normally enough with her parents and seemed to enjoy chatting about her day. So her mother and father concluded that since she didn’t appear to hate school itself, things should be okay. Based on their own experiences, Tatsuko’s parents decided that although she might be alone right now, it wasn’t as if she’d never make any friends.

Tatsuko’s parents were naive. Some people just couldn’t make friends.

Until kindergarten, just being adrift from the group was as bad as it got, but once she was in elementary school, she found her classmates had formed a tiny society—one that Tatsuko was alien to.

Since all it took was someone talking to her to leave Tatsuko stuttering, it wasn’t long before she became the subject of ridicule within the class. They would giggle at her, stick signs on her back, and throw erasers at her in class. Such mild pranks happened practically every day.

With each passing grade, the mischief escalated, bit by bit. It turned into the sort of minute harassment that teachers wouldn’t find out about: She would be kicked in her backpack from behind, or her pencils and textbooks would be hidden. Tatsuko was seen as a rank lower within the social hierarchy, and so no one held back when dealing with her.

She moved on to a private middle school and used the most important period of the new semester, April, on herself. She never spoke with anyone, and all she did was read books or manga as the social relationships within the class were established. As expected, she ended up alone.

She’d heard that bullying in middle school was far nastier than in elementary school, so to defend herself, she started gathering information. She would make search after search, refining results, tracking down her classmates’ social media accounts, and she would check those accounts twice a day, morning and evening. She would also check the entries of those classmates who had blogs or websites once a day, looking to see if there were any “let’s bully Tatsuko” trends. There was nobody in the position to advise Tatsuko that she was investing her efforts in entirely the wrong direction.

Tatsuko never came up in their conversations. Every day, she was disappointed but also relieved. Maybe it was because this was a private school. The teachers and students were classier—or rather, quieter, and it didn’t seem there was any talk of wanting to bully people, even in other classes in her grade year. But still, checking the Internet had become part of her routine, so she kept doing it—and then it was June.

That month, Tatsuko made the first friend in her life.

“Hey, you were reading that manga before, weren’t you?”

She’d assumed they weren’t talking to her. The classroom was hardly ever quiet at lunch hour, but generally, no one would ever talk to Tatsuko.

Though she still didn’t perceive it as someone talking to her, the voice had been close, so she lifted her head. When students nearby were chattering, it was hard to read, even more so when other girls did the chattering. Tatsuko’s eyes left the page and turned toward the voice to see someone’s face very close to her and looking straight in her direction. Tatsuko recoiled and just about fell from her chair.

“I like that one, too.” Whether or not the girl noticed Tatsuko freaking out so much she’d clung to her desk, she smiled as if nothing at all had happened.

Tatsuko panicked, then made it worse and started acting weird. As she was freaking out, the bell rang, signaling that break was over, and the other girl returned to her seat.

With math class going in one ear and out the other, Tatsuko thought about what had just happened.

It wasn’t as if she had no interest in her classmates. She was more wary than interested, but she was careful to the degree that she would check class rumors and mutterings online.

Kaori Ninotsugi; it was a strange name. She was about an average student, and she didn’t stand out all that much athletically, nor was she exceptional in music or home economics. Kaori wasn’t particularly pretty, but she wasn’t exceedingly ugly, either. Basically, she was average. You could call her cautious; you could say nothing about her really stood out. She was essentially like “Classmate D.”

Of course, unlike Tatsuko, she had friends. She seemed to enjoy herself during break time, and other girls would always accompany her to the bathroom. In gym class, she never got skipped over when kids picked teams, and she never paired with the teacher during stretching exercises.

—Friends.

Maybe this was one of those “opportunities to become friends.” People who weren’t Tatsuko would use these sorts of opportunities to “make friends.” Even if Tatsuko couldn’t come up with quick, witty responses, if she could just respond a little better, maybe she could have made a friend, too.

But oh well. It’d just be a bother anyway.

Coming to the conclusion that she was fine with her life this way, Tatsuko turned her attention to the math class.

But it didn’t end there.

After that day, Kaori started proactively coming to talk to Tatsuko. From Tatsuko’s perspective, this was beyond what she could take. It felt less like this girl was talking to her and more like she was being dragged into an altercation. Her actions came across more like some scrappy kid bumping into your shoulder and making it out to be your fault.

She tried to force Tatsuko into her group of friends. Give me a break! Tatsuko thought. Leave me alone! I’m fine by myself! But despite all these thoughts, of course she couldn’t say any of this out loud.

Tatsuko assumed the girls would chatter on about this new lipstick or some model’s clothing or things of that nature, but contrary to her expectations, Kaori and her cheery friends enjoyed talking about anime and manga.

The classmates that had until now seemed to Tatsuko to be the terribly glamorous residents of another world were, once she actually tried talking to them, actually the sort who just did things like wear cute socks with little embroidery detailing, or shape their eyebrows with tweezers, or use fruity lip balm to make their lips shine—attempts to be fashionable without crossing the line where scary teachers would get mad at them for it.

Though clumsily, Tatsuko gradually started joining in on conversations, and before she knew it, she was saying hello to the others and being the one to greet them and getting called by a nickname.

Though she’d thought this would never be a part of her life, now that it was done, it was simple. And she would always be grateful to Kaori, who had started it all for her.

Even now, Kaori was by Tatsuko’s side as they followed Archfiend Pam. Maybe it was more accurate to say that Tatsuko was with Kaori. Kaori wanted to continue being the magical girl Rain Pow. Tatsuko didn’t mind quitting being Postarie. Getting back to her safe life was more important to her than being a magical girl. They still disagreed on this, but they remained together despite that because Tatsuko couldn’t abandon Kaori.

She really wanted to discuss this with Rain Pow, but whenever she tried, she was met with a slap in the face from Archfiend Pam.

Judging from how Toko never came out of hiding, Postarie understood that she must have been Archfiend Pam’s enemy. But even knowing this, she didn’t get the feeling that Archfiend Pam was one of those evil mages Toko had talked about. Pam was clearly an unpleasant person to deal with. The way she dealt with people by hitting them and then criticizing them was frightening, and sometimes what she said afterward was even crueler than the physical abuse itself. But even so, Postarie thought perhaps that wasn’t the same thing as evil. A really passionate and intense gym teacher could be someone you didn’t like and yet not be a bad person. Archfiend Pam didn’t seem like a bad person, either. She spoke with such self-righteousness, and Postarie doubted the stuff she talked about—like battles between magical girls—would be of much use to either her or Rain Pow. But she still got the feeling that Pam was more or less saying it with consideration for them in mind.

And besides, Postarie felt like Pam was showing them consideration, too, in ways that were less explicit. Before, she’d been walking so quickly, it had been the most Postarie could do to keep up, but now she’d slowed her pace. Not knowing what the coats Archfiend Pam had given them were made of had been frightening, but when Postarie actually pushed her arms through the sleeves, she found the coat fit perfectly and was warm. It made her feel safe, like things would be okay if she wore this coat.

From behind, Postarie couldn’t read what Archfiend Pam, striding ahead of them, had on her mind. She walks so brazenly, thought Postarie. People with confidence and clear consciences could walk like that. As a person, Pam seemed like the polar opposite of Postarie.

Postarie glanced at Rain Pow beside her. She looked bored.

The thought crossed Postarie’s mind that it might be better to tell Pam about everything, including Toko. But Rain Pow wouldn’t want that. In the end, their discussion never got anywhere, and still without reaching a conclusion, the two of them walked side by side.

What do I do? What should I do? Postarie worried.

That was when Archfiend Pam’s feet stopped. “What…?” she muttered, turning her gaze into the distance. “A car accident…?”

Just what the heck was Archfiend Pam doing? Postarie was confused by such an incomprehensible remark but nevertheless hesitated, as she was sure that Pam would slap her if she were to ask about it. In the meantime, Archfiend Pam’s expression turned to shock.

“There are magical girls there!” Instantly, her dress coat transformed, turning into a black square to rise into the sky. She pulled off her sunglasses and Panama hat to reveal sharp horns on her head.

“One, two, three, four… And Gekokujou… Those bastards.”

Postarie was startled—not by the two horns but by the costume under Pam’s dress coat. It was so revealing, it would be no exaggeration to describe her as half-naked. It was practically just string and strips of cloth.

“One with a guitar on her back, a fencer, one in a patch-covered costume, a fortune-teller-style magical girl, and one wearing an outfit that looks like a wedding dress… Are any of these girls familiar to you?”

“I think the wedding dress girl is probably our friend Weddin.” Rain Pow turned to Postarie for affirmation, saying, “Right?” and Postarie nodded. Their friends were a pirate, a stage magician, an Arabian dancer, a ballerina, and a girl in a wedding dress. The ninja and Bunny Ears were enemies. The magical girls Pam had just described were all ones they had never seen or even heard of.

Archfiend Pam smiled with glee. “So they’re strangers to you, too… Interesting.”