Mahou Shoujo Ikusei Keikaku - Volume 8 - Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

RACING THROUGH THE CITY, PASSING THROUGH THE MOUNTAIN

  Uluru

She’d thought she’d been fairly straightforward when she’d reported they were in serious trouble right now. Her message read that they were being pursued by the Osk Faction as well as one other mysterious force. She’d mentioned the card soldiers and their equipment, as well as what else the group had been up against: the creepy monsters, the scholar-style magical girl, the magical girl in black, the magic the two of them used, everything. Uluru had mentioned being attacked by enemy forces in the amusement park and that some unknown figure had helped them with shuriken. She’d said they somehow managed to escape by the skin of their teeth, and she wasn’t entirely sure they could defeat these enemies. As much as Uluru hated to complain, she had to be honest about the situation.

—And also…

She’d also mentioned that Sorami had been killed. Uluru thought she’d said everything, no omissions.

But it didn’t feel as if it had gotten through. Puk Puck’s reply seemed casual, unbothered: “Sounds real tough. It’ll be over soon, so just do your best, okay?” Uluru wanted her and the Puk Faction’s forces to come save them, but not a single line in that reply mentioned anything about coming to help—even though the ceremony was important, and the key figure, Sachiko, should have been just as important.

It couldn’t be that the message hadn’t reached Puk Puck. Uluru had told her the facts; this was clearly a strange reply. Uluru wanted to hold her head in her hands. She glared at her trembling arms.

But holding her head in her hands wouldn’t change anything. Sorami wasn’t coming back. This was only going to make Sachiko, who was looking at Uluru anxiously, worry more.

Puk Puck’s smiling face rose in her mind. Puk Puck was never wrong. She’d set Uluru on the right path. No way Puk Puck could be wrong this time, either. Even without the ceremony, she cared for Uluru and Sachiko, and she had to be mourning Sorami’s death more deeply than anyone. Uluru was just being selfish for wanting her to express her shock more openly. She was probably stricken and crying and had done her very best not to let it show in her response. Uluru had heard that those who stood at the top, important people, had to do that.

If Puk Puck couldn’t send help, that had to be because she didn’t have enough hands on her end, either. She had a lot to do, like set things up for the ceremony, arrange to keep Sachiko safe once she’d come back, and also protect the estate—all things that required manpower and preparation.

There was swaying overhead. A car was going over the bridge, gushing putrid exhaust in its wake. Hiding under a bridge made Uluru feel more miserable than she would have imagined. From here, she could see the river and the waterside, the bridge, and the tall grass that concealed them. Through the grass, she could see guardrails, and beyond that was a chain curry shop and a karaoke parlor.

Sorami had said she wanted to go to karaoke, just once. Not even because she liked singing, but because something as ridiculous as “I totally look like I’d be the type to go hang out at karaoke, but I’ve never done it” had bugged her. Puk Puck had said, “The air’s bad in karaoke parlors, so you can go once you’re an adult.” Uluru, who agreed with everything Puk Puck said, had also been against karaoke. That day, Sorami had pouted until dinner was over.

In the end, the day Sorami could sing at karaoke would never come. If Sorami were here, just looking up at a karaoke parlor from under a bridge, would she have laughed, or been mad, or exasperated?

Uluru clenched her fist. Magical girls were strong. Uluru was strong, too. She was strong in body and mind.

She and Sorami had been together since the orphanage. Up until Puk Puck had scouted them and invited them to her estate, they had always been together, just Sachiko, Sorami, and Uluru—because it had been easier to get by together. Had the three of them been on their own, people would have stolen from them. But as a unit, they were three times as strong, and no one would steal from them so easily. If one of the trio caught a cold, one would nurse her back to health, while the third would go swipe some cold medicine. If one was hungry, then another would give her a pastry or candy that she’d been holding on to. When they went to bed, they held one another’s hands, and if one of them was scared, they would comfort her.

That was how they’d always lived, until they had moved into Puk Puck’s estate. Ever since then, there was no longer the need to live like that. They didn’t have to stick together anymore, but Uluru, Sorami, and Sachiko had remained together anyway.

Uluru clenched her fist tight. She could hear her bones creaking.

Magical girls were strong, so even if Sorami was killed, she couldn’t cry.

Sorami had always been the strongest in mock combat or sparring. Puk Puck had expressed concern about Sachiko’s future. She’d once advised Uluru, “You should be resourceful,” and Uluru had asked back, “What does ‘resourceful’ mean?” But Puk Puck generally never said anything to Sorami. Uluru had even been jealous of her, because it had felt as if Puk Puck had trusted her most.

But she’d been killed anyway. Uluru covered her tightly clenched right fist with her left hand.

Uluru had to be calm and collected. She had to be easygoing, even when scary things happened, like Sorami. She was a magical girl, so she could do that. Magical girls neither cried nor wailed. She had to do what she had to do. She couldn’t let herself get swept away by her feelings. Puk Puck was about to hold this ceremony in order to save the Magical Kingdom. Uluru would do everything in her power to make the ceremony a success. She was absolutely, absolutely going to bring Sachiko back, even if it cost her life. Sorami had managed to pull that off. Then Uluru would do it, too.

A magical girl could do that. She’d use the power Puk Puck had given her for Puk Puck’s sake. She might want to cry over Sorami, but a magical girl was not allowed.

When they’d driven off the enemy earlier, Uluru had abandoned herself to emotion and screamed. Of course, it had been a lie that she would blow herself up and take them all with her, but it was a fact that she wanted to kill them all.

In order to activate Uluru’s magic, there were several conditions: She had to speak, and her subject had to hear her; Uluru herself had to be aware she was lying; and it did actually have to be a lie. Uluru’s cry had fulfilled all those conditions, and the enemy had believed her lie and run away.

That had successfully driven the enemy away, but ultimately, it had still been just a lie. No matter how much she hated the enemy, she couldn’t hurt them. The most she could do was threaten them.

She squeezed the fist wrapped in her other hand tightly.

It had to have been years ago when they’d had this conversation: Puk Puck had gathered Uluru, Sachiko, and Sorami together and told them, “You guys make sure to always stay friends, all right? And I’ll always take care of you.”

Sorami was gone now. But she still had Sachiko. She would protect Sachiko. She remembered that Puk Puck had told her, “You’re the big sister, Uluru, so help the others, ’kay?” She would do as Puk Puck had ordered. She’d been unable to protect Sorami. But she would protect Sachiko.

Releasing her hand from her fist, she looked to the side. Snow White was holding up a shuriken in the light of the sun reflecting off the river, looking hard at it.

Snow White was detached. Uluru would be lying to say she wasn’t sick of that attitude. But though it was frustrating how strong Snow White was, Uluru was forced to recognize it. Uluru alone could have fought off just the shadow beast at most. Snow White had been fighting with both the shadow beast and the magical girl in black. It had been tough to follow her movements, watching her swing and thrust her naginata and exchange blows with the enemy.

It wasn’t a big deal to Snow White that their lives were in danger right now. To her, Sorami’s death was common enough. Snow White was a professional magical girl who focused on completing the job, caring about little else. So then Uluru would use that. At the very least, Snow White wasn’t going to betray them or screw things up badly and land all of them in a tight spot.

  Puk Puck

Uluru had requested help. But there was no one who could go save them now.

Things were tough enough with just the Osk Faction. Yet another group coming in to attack was a disaster. If they were leading a large group of demons that had never been seen before, they were obviously not simply anyone.

Various forces from various places had gathered together to target Sachiko. Right now, W City was in the middle of an incredible mess, and Uluru wasn’t whining when she said the most the girls could do was just escape. Puk Puck thought that if Uluru was saying so, then it had to be true. Uluru was a show-off and didn’t like to reveal weakness. Even if she were injured or lost things or people spoke badly of her, she’d put on a tough face and puff out her chest as if to say that this was precisely what made her strong. And this was the girl who was now dropping her bluff to ask for help.

“Sorry, Uluru.” With that apology, Puk Puck plucked a potato chip in her fingers.

No matter how she calculated it, she didn’t have enough people. Sending in an insufficient force to help them would only lead to more casualties. The single viable option was to have the girls do what they could with the number of people they had.

Puk Puck wanted to save them all if she could. Sachiko wasn’t just an important part of the ceremony—she was Puk Puck’s friend. She’d wanted to save Sorami, too. She didn’t want to think about Uluru and Sachiko perishing, too.

She bit into the potato chip, its salty flavor prominent, then grabbed her cup and tossed it all back. The flat, lukewarm cola sloshed down her throat. Even like this, it was a stimulating drink.

Carbonation, salt—these things were stimulating because she had a body. Puk Puck liked the sort of stimulation that could be had because she was incarnated in a body, and not merely a spirit. Though not all stimulation was good. Some she wanted to distance herself from as much as possible: the deaths of those close to her, her own death, things like that.

Even if she thought, I want to avoid that at all costs, I don’t want that, these events happened anyway. Sorami had been killed. Sachiko and Uluru were in dire straits. And she didn’t want Snow White, who she’d just met, to die, either.

That magical girl named Snow White was a rare treasure, one she wanted to keep close. Even the fact of her crushing Grim Heart on its own made her highly valuable. Puk Puck was not okay with using up Snow White when the girl was actually interested now, and they were starting to make friends.

But even so, Puk Puck had been unable to send backup.

She gazed up at the ceiling. Painted there in splendid brushstrokes was a heavenly maiden clad in a robe of feathers and soaring upward. The guests invited here would sigh at its beauty, but to Puk Puck, it was a familiar sight that she saw every day. She was sick of it; the painting was no longer stimulating.

She didn’t have enough people. Even if she squeezed them down to the last drop, it was still not enough. Multiple parts were necessary for this ceremony. She had to arrange for personnel to protect the ceremony’s location, and she also had to dispatch experts to select the magical tools to be used. There were various other roles to be fulfilled, too.

Just as insects would swarm around sweet nectar, enemy forces were gathering around Sachiko. Even if Puk Puck wanted to send support to those dear to her, she couldn’t do it.

Puk Puck thought of Sorami, and a tear streaked down her right cheek.

  Pfle

Pfle began receiving detailed reports of the activity on the scene.

There were many magical girls who would express things in a particularly exaggerated manner, perhaps to make themselves look important, but the trio Pfle had assigned to Deluge were the rare sort who would tell you things just exactly as they had happened.

Pfle looked outside to see droplets of rain hitting the window.

The sentimental thought of I wonder if it’s raining where Mamori is being confined crossed her mind, but she made a conscious effort not to think about it. More important was that the sunny weather in W City made ideal conditions for Dark Cutie to be able to fight at full capacity.

Additionally, Pfle’s forces were superior: Micchan the Dictionary, Glassianne, Princess Deluge, and the few hundred new-model combat homunculi under Deluge’s command. She could boast of the greatest fighting force in W City, and it looked as if the success of this plan to abduct Premium Sachiko was close at hand.

But that was odd.

The Osk Faction had deployed a Shufflin and one magical girl commanding them, with no additional forces. Pfle could understand this. The Osk Faction was trying to obstruct something that had been decided in confidence. They couldn’t invest all their forces when they were already in a bad light from the incident with Grim Heart. Pfle could imagine that a commander who didn’t want to add to her disgrace would not request backup.

However, the Puk Faction weren’t investing additional forces right now, either. This was strange. Their headquarters, Puk Puck’s estate, was in the city. And they had just cause on their side being the ones under attack, the victim side. Going to save their allies who were under attack was a legitimate enough reason to invest a force surpassing that of the enemy. Furthermore, they had the means and the advantage of being on their home turf.

That one passenger car had been the only thing to actually emerge.

Those who had fought with Micchan and Dark Cutie must have felt personally how strong the two of them were. And that would also go for the material advantage of the combat-use homunculi Deluge commanded. It seemed unlikely that hadn’t been reported to Puk Puck. It didn’t make sense that Puk Puck would hear that report, then only send one car as backup and leave them like that.

The magical girl who’d shown up and thrown those shuriken from afar had still not been identified. Even if she was the secret ace up their sleeve, she was too passive to act as backup.

The Puk Faction and the Osk Faction were clashing over the fugitive Premium Sachiko. The Magical-Girl Hunter Snow White had gone to the Puk Faction. Everything was as Deluge had said. How had she acquired that information? Or rather—it wasn’t how had Deluge done it, but how had the one behind her done it.

This was something you could call highly confidential. Without deep knowledge of the internal affairs of both the Puk and Osk factions, or of both, there was no way you would know. However, if there was someone who was informed on one of those two factions, or on both, then why would they bother to use artificial magical girls and Pfle? If they were a part of the hierarchy of the Magical Kingdom, and also in a high position, then they didn’t have to use the roundabout method of kidnapping Shadow Gale to use Pfle. They could just use their own soldiers.

Their course of action was inconsistent.

With a self-deprecating smile, Pfle drew the curtains. Though she understood she was missing something, she didn’t know what. Shadow Gale had been hiding something. Was that connected to this incident?

Pfle was aware she’d become a little negative. She wasn’t being constructive enough. If thinking wasn’t enough to understand, then there were things to do before thinking. Pfle had told Deluge the Magical Girl Resources Department didn’t have much in the way of combat personnel. That was a fact. However, even if someone didn’t excel in violence, that didn’t mean they were without ability. Saying she had few combat operatives also meant she had more whom she relied on for other matters.

Pfle was now nearly certain she was not being monitored and turned on her magical phone. She would send her underlings into action and gather information.

  Micchan the Dictionary

Crossing over the roofs of skyscrapers and residential buildings, Micchan followed Glassianne’s instructions in pursuit of the suspicious foreign car. Once the car arrived at its destination, she and the ten demons high up in the sky would make their assault and secure the human or magical girl who was inside the vehicle.

Micchan was fairly confident in her recall ability, and not because she was known as “the Dictionary.” Comparing with the map of the urban area in her mind, she deduced where the vehicle would currently be running as she simultaneously ran over there. She cut across the city, then came out to a road that ran along the mountain. Doing a circle around the city, she continued to run after the vehicle. Less cover like high-rises and residences made trailing it harder, but with support from Glassianne, it was nothing at all.

She emerged onto an animal trail that cut through the vegetation over a tunnel. From there, she merged onto the national highway, hiding in the shadow of a truck to follow her target. The car was sticking to the speed limit, driving no faster than five miles over. It didn’t seem to be in any hurry, given how lawful its driving was. Still, it was also driving in too carefree a manner to label it cautious. The way they were yielding to pedestrians, even at crosswalks where there was no light, was a little bit too lax for someone assigned to a potentially fatal mission.

The emblem that marked the vehicle’s side of the bay laurel crown with waterfowl wings was clearly that of the Puk Faction. The car windows were tinted dark, and Micchan couldn’t really tell what was inside.

There was no way they hadn’t been informed that the team that had been searching for Sachiko had been attacked. Did this mean this was the backup that had been sent out because of that report? The foreign car was a normal passenger vehicle with no magic cast on it, and Micchan could only sense one person within. Courtesy car seemed to be a more apt descriptor than backup.

Calling a courtesy car? A courtesy car? In a tough situation like this?

It couldn’t be anything so stupid as that. Magical Girls might see the Three Sages as practically divine, but they couldn’t be that disconnected from worldly sense.

Descending the mountain, Micchan ran down a farm road–like stretch that ran past cultivated fields. That expensive-looking foreign car looked entirely out of place on the rural road.

Coming off the farm road–like stretch, the car headed back into the wilderness. Micchan checked her position against her mental map. She’d raced through the urban area, come out into the wilderness, and done a circle of the city perimeter; the car just kept going. It was about to circle a quarter of the city, so then if Micchan were to move in a linear manner, she’d get where the car was going far faster.

Even if this was a carefree driver, that wouldn’t change the fact that faster was better. If they were taking the trouble to go the long way around, that meant there had to be a reason for it. For example—yes, that they were worried about being followed. That would be a reason to take the long way around.

Are they watching out for me?

It didn’t look that way at all. The car was meandering aimlessly. If they were watching for someone on their tail, they’d have been more focused. But if they weren’t even aware of what was behind them, then there was no need to be going the long way around. So then didn’t that mean there was another reason they were circling around like this?

Running straight down the winding mountain road, kicking up trees and grass, she headed onward.

Something doesn’t feel right.

If there was a reason for the car going along a pointlessly circuitous route, then it could be because they were cautious about being trailed, or one other thing: a decoy. They were moving around the car as live bait to reel in the enemy.

Micchan figured this was 90 percent decoy and 10 percent caution toward being trailed. Regardless, it would be a foolish idea to split their fighting forces here, but Micchan didn’t like the idea of just letting this car go free, either.

She would rather get rid of them.

Micchan gave the demons the order. “All units to the descent coming off the mountain. We’re gonna clean them up within thirty seconds.”

Unfurling her mental map, she visualized the shortest route to that location. Unlike the car, Micchan could cut straight through the middle of the woods where there weren’t even animal trails to get there. She was fine as long as her sense of direction was right.

She ran across the mountain at full speed, stepping on grasses, breaking trees, leaping off cliffs, and racing through valleys. She was used to moving through the wilderness. She’d participated in the Archfiend Cram School’s survival training, and she’d ranked close to the top, too.

Within ten minutes, she arrived at the bottom of the mountain, where she gave instructions to the Demon Wings. She had them hide around the area, in the shadows of trees, under leaves, covering them with earth and such, while Micchan herself made a ball out of some soil and held it in her hand.

“Shoukyuu [globule] to shoujuu [rifle].”

Now she had an automatic rifle. Looking around the area, she saw a bus stop. Someone must have been waiting there until a moment ago, as some suitable smoke was rising from the ashtray there. Micchan held her hand over the smoke to catch it in her palm.

“Shuryuuen [cigarette smoke] to shuryuudan [grenade].” She decided to make two hand grenades just in case.

She also pulled an empty can out of the garbage bag beside the vending machine, twisting and screwing it up, plucking off the top to rip it apart into pieces with her bare hands. It was dirty and sticky with dried juice, but since she was just taking garbage for her own use, she didn’t have the right to complain.

“Right then, it’s about time.”

Not even ten minutes had passed when the foreign car came down the mountain under the speed limit. Right as it did, Micchan ran out onto the road and plucked one of the steel scraps jangling in her hand.

“Teppen [iron scrap] to teppeki [iron wall].”

With Micchan’s magic, she could only make things as big as what she could hold in her hand. That was why she’d strengthened her muscles, training enough to be able to take the weight. In the middle of the road, she created a magical iron wall eight inches thick, five feet tall, and six and a half feet wide. Then she grabbed another piece of scrap metal in her fingers, then a third, and a fourth. “Teppen [iron scrap] to teppeki [iron wall]. Teppen [iron scrap] to teppeki [iron wall]. Teppen [iron scrap] to teppeki [iron wall].”

A shock, then the ground swayed. The foreign car crashed into the four layers of iron walls, and they stopped it with only a slight wobble.

Pulling out the pin of the hand grenade, Micchan tossed it over the wall. She then slid herself into the ditch by the roadside, plugging her ears and opening her mouth.

Micchan’s deluxe grenade shot the frame of the car ten feet into the air before it fell again. The explosion and then the impact of the car’s fall made the trees around her shake, and dry leaves rained down. The iron walls, which had only wobbled when they brought the vehicle to a halt, were cut down by the explosion.

Covered in dead brown leaves, Micchan stood from the roadside ditch. Black smoke was rising from the foreign car. Though few people passed by the descent of this mountain road, police would come in five minutes at earliest, ten at latest, and rubberneckers would come even faster.

She would end this job quickly and definitively. Automatic rifle in hand, she took a cautious step forward, then leaped to the side and rolled. Shuriken and kunai broke through the concrete to stab into the earth. The demons fluttered about restlessly.

Micchan squeezed the trigger of her rifle and shot down more shuriken with a wall of bullets. It wasn’t just one or two shuriken, however—countless shuriken were slicing off branches as they flew toward her.

Micchan looked up—standing at the top of the tallest tree was a ninja.

  Uluru

Time passed slowly but steadily. But Uluru wasn’t simply waiting. She was biding her time, knowing full well that once night came, their opponent would have a hard time fighting.

Snow White could hear people’s innermost feelings. If their opponent thought, Hope this doesn’t happen to me, she’d know. The magical girl they’d fought in the amusement park, Dark Cutie, used shadows in battle, but she needed light to do so. If the sun wasn’t out, she’d have to use streetlights, neon sights, or her own light source. As long as there wasn’t complete darkness, she could make shadows. The girl was a strong fighter on her own, but it there was no doubt her abilities would be hindered by the night, per Snow White’s explanation.

“Dark Cutie? How do you know her name?” asked Uluru.

“Because she’s a famous magical girl,” Snow White answered.

“You’ve never seen the Cutie Healer series, pon? Dark Cutie is the rival who appears in Cutie Healer Galaxy, pon. She was an exception among the villains, one who was never defeated or reformed, pon. Even after the show ended, she’s appeared many times in the annual festival and in the Cutie Healer movies that all the Cutie Healers participate in. Even watching as a fan of good magical girls, the way she’s such a committed villain who’s never wound up as comic relief, even in the movies, always remaining aloof and continuing to make Cutie Healer and the others suffer will really make you go Ohhh, pon. Many fans still talk about her final battle with Cutie Altair, and Cutie Vega on Mars is still…”

“Fal,” chided Snow White, “you’re being a little loud.”

“Ah, sorry, pon.”

“So then she’s an anime character?” asked Uluru.

“It’s a well-known fact that the characters who appear in magical-girl anime are based on real magical girls, pon. Having an anime character based on yourself is the greatest honor for a magical girl, and so many struggle to achieve—”

“Hey, Fal? If this is going to be long, then don’t, okay?”

“Oh, sorry, pon.”

“You only ever get this excited when you talk about magical-girl anime, Fal.”

“You don’t have to put it that way, pon.”

This exchange between mascot and magical girl couldn’t help but make Uluru smile. But then she pulled her expression tight. No, no, she scolded herself, I can’t be softening over something like this. Looking over at Sachiko beside her, she saw a brooding expression she had never seen on Sachiko before, her head slumping. Though it was indeed bad to soften up and let your guard down, looking at Sachiko’s face, she felt like she couldn’t just leave her be.

Uluru laid her hand on Sachiko’s shoulder. Sachiko trembled and looked at Uluru. Her expression seemed less brooding and more frightened. This really wasn’t good.

“Sachiko, you don’t have to worry. Though Uluru’s not telling you to let your guard down, either. But you really don’t have to worry. You’re gonna get back to Lady Puk Puck, even if it costs Uluru’s life.”

Sachiko opened her mouth slightly, and tears pooled in her eyes, immediately overflowing to drip down to the end of her chin. She turned her face away, hiding it in her arms as she muttered, “I’m sorry.” Uluru gave Snow White a look over Sachiko’s shoulder, nodding at her.

“Listen, Sachiko. Uluru’s not saying don’t apologize, but you can do that later. Right now, um… How did that go again? Action over apologies. Action. Like, if we can get back to the estate, you can apologize as much as you like then. Well, maybe it’d be annoying if you apologize too much, though.”

Uluru was making a conscious effort to put on as kind a face as possible, but she didn’t know if she was actually smiling kindly or not. Squinting in the light reflected off the surface of the river, she slowly said to Sachiko, “And about causing trouble for Lady Puk Puck… Well, just take care not to do it next time. As long as we can get back, as long as the ceremony goes off without a hitch, you can apologize as much as you like. So whatever happens, we have to get back. Uluru’s made up her mind, you know—that Uluru will absolutely, absolutely keep you safe, no matter what. Uluru is going to bring you back home.” Since she’d said it all in one breath, she ran out of air. Inhaling deep, she continued. “Even if…Uluru dies, you serve Lady Puk Puck, okay, Sachiko? Make sure the ceremony is a success, and be useful to her afterward, too, okay?”

Mouth still open, Sachiko clenched her teeth and shook her head. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, sis… I…don’t want to do the ceremony.”

What is she talking about? Uluru wondered, but then, once she understood what Sachiko meant, she grabbed her by the collar. Snow White cut between them, trying to stop her, but Uluru ignored her and yelled at Sachiko, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…but, but…”

“Don’t give me this! Bullshit! Why, why?! But Sorami’s dead! Everyone wants you to come back so badly! How can you still be saying that?!”

“Uluru, you’re being too loud,” cautioned Snow White.

“The enemy’ll find us that way, pon.”

“You stupid… You…!”

Restraining Uluru behind her with one hand, Snow White turned back to Sachiko. “Tell me, too, please. Why are you so afraid? I can hear your deepest thoughts, and you seem absolutely terrified.”

Still covering her face, Sachiko shook her head fiercely. “I don’t know! I don’t know! But, but…! When I think about the ceremony, all I can think about is awful things, and I can’t stop! I don’t really know, but…”

Uluru also knew well that Sachiko was a coward. But right now, this was a little different from her usual fearfulness. It was hard to put into words what exactly was different, but something indeed was. This wasn’t how she usually was. Maybe she was just in a muddle because Sorami was gone. Uluru’s clenched fists went slack. She was about to say something to Sachiko when a synthetic voice cut in.

“Magical girl detected, pon! She’s coming closer!”

Uluru yanked Sachiko to her feet, and Snow White tossed Sachiko into her bag without a second thought before racing away.

  Pfle

Pfle searched and searched for anyone who fit the description of “shuriken-using magical girl.” Very few magical girls had a ninja motif—that went all the more so for those who could throw shuriken from so far away, they were out of sight.

When Pfle combed through the Magical Girl Resources Department’s files, it came up immediately: the magical girl who was currently missing, Ripple. The incident where she had gone missing had become famous because of Archfiend Pam’s assassination. During the investigation of the assassin, an antiestablishment faction had suddenly barged in, and vicious magical girls whom the antiestablishment faction had released from prison had gone wild. 7753, a member of Magical Girl Resources, had also gotten dragged into it.

Pfle tapped her forehead with her index finger.

That incident had occurred after Pfle had become the chief of the Magical Girl Resources Department. 7753 had been there at the time, so it would have been natural for Pfle to have given her orders. But for some reason, Pfle didn’t get involved at all, instead leaving matters to resolve on their own.

Pfle knew herself.

Pfle the magical girl would have tried to more actively intervene. This was the type of incident that involved people you wouldn’t want to investigate. She could’ve pulled off quite a few interesting maneuvers by sticking her head into things. And if she played her hand well, she could even receive a promotion—a place closer to the Magical Kingdom, somewhere with more authority, capable of doing more.

It was difficult to believe that she had just let things be… But that’s exactly what she did.

And if she were to go even further back, then another mystery emerged.

Pfle was the head of the Magical Girl Resources Department. She had climbed up to the top fairly and honestly, without any deceit, fraud, or bribery, or using any methods that would cause talk behind her back. But was the chief of the Magical Girl Resources Department a position you could reach because “people thought highly of you” and you “worked really hard”? And what’s more, Pfle was said to have risen through the ranks rapidly. Wouldn’t it make more sense for her to have used some methods she couldn’t speak of to others?

For the magical girl named Pfle—the human named Kanoe Hitokouji—she got the sense that reaching her lofty position through the fortunes of the Hitokouji family, her grandfather’s connections, or the shady activities of others was only natural. She wasn’t naive in her self-evaluation. Though she might play the good girl in front of Mamori, she had more thorough and complete knowledge of her own true nature than anyone else.

She’d already figured something was going on, but now that hypothesis was solidifying before her more clearly.

Next, she opened up copies of meeting records of the highest conference of the Magical Kingdom’s Central Authority. These were generally not open to browsing, but things were fairly flexible when you were a department head. What specifically was this ceremony Puk Puck was trying to hold? That was what Pfle wanted to know. Her capable subordinates didn’t bother using their heads to determine which files Pfle needed and ended up providing her everything from the last whole month. She speed-read through it at two seconds per page.

There was also a list of magical girls who had disappeared; an unflinchingly large number, too. She looked up the magic used by those who were currently missing. If Pfle could identify some kind of trend, she might be able to use that as material to reinforce her theory. For this, half the speed of the meeting records—one second per page—was enough. The heightened abilities of magical-girl bodies were useful in more than just fistfights.

Including time for consideration, it took a little less than thirty minutes. She had a basic idea in mind. If Puk Puck’s aim was as Pfle predicted, then this wasn’t the time to be getting involved with Premium Sachiko.

She would send someone to the scene, to W City. She needed a commander to control Deluge. Who would she leave that to? When she lined up the candidates in her mind, however, no one really seemed to fit the bill.

Trying to do this within the Magical Girl Resources Department would only be cause for greater strain. But she’d never have requested help from someone outside the department. Never mind outside or inside the department—Pfle even doubted herself. Where were magical girls she could trust, in the current situation?

Ah yes.

One person came to mind.

Pfle stood, pulled out her magical phone, and dialed a number. Outside the window, it was not only raining—the wind was blowing, rustling the leaves on the trees in the garden.

  Puk Puck

Though she was worried about Sachiko and the others, Puk Puck was unable to send them help. But she couldn’t go to save them herself, either. There was nothing to do but line up three sitting cushions, roll up one into a pillow to lie down on, and toss and turn. When she heard the good news she’d been waiting for, she cried out in joy.

After a few moments of happiness, she reconsidered, thinking that was a little lacking in class. She smiled shyly instead, which gladdened her subordinates; all in all, a win-win.

“It’s time I go pick her up, then.”

Puk Puck had received reports that the estate was being watched. Magic would be needed in order to safely do the pickup and return, and to use magic, you needed people. It was for the sake of this moment that she had not sent out help, making them wait at the estate so she had to work them hard now. Of course, Puk Puck, who had also been waiting, would do her best, too.

First, she changed her clothes.

Society judged people based on appearances—that included clothing. Puk Puck also suspected that worldview could be a part of how motif affected magical-girl powers, but she wasn’t about to make a presentation about it at an academic conference.

Since she would be judged based on appearance, she couldn’t go out wearing her house clothes.

Puk Puck tried on various outfits her servants brought her: an afternoon dress, a long-sleeved kimono, kindergartner clothes, an evening dress, and Lolita fashion. She discussed with her subordinates what sort of fashion she should attack with at a time like this, then selected a childlike dress that wouldn’t stand out when mingling among humans but would nonetheless give a good impression, put on matching hair decorations, a necklace, socks, shorts, drawers, etc. She had her hair combed and styled and pinned with a hairband but became distracted by a headdress, thinking, Maybe this is cute. Puk Puck could be really indecisive at times like these.

She couldn’t afford to waste a single moment. Right now, Sachiko and Uluru were still running and hiding from the enemy in fright, while Snow White was fighting desperately for them. Despite being in a position where she should be sending help, Puk Puck had been unable to do so because her forces were allocated elsewhere, so she had to restrain her fashion to the minimum level in order to swiftly accomplish her goal.

This task would normally take five hours, but she managed to whittle it down to an hour and a half. Considering how Sachiko and the others were struggling, she thought it was only obvious she should put in this much effort.

For cologne, she picked out one with as casual a fragrance as possible, and for nail polish, she went with a refined, pale-blue color.

She smiled brightly at the mirror and told herself that she would surely be able to make friends like this. Confidence begets results. Even for Sachiko—if she could have had more confidence in herself, she wouldn’t have run away.

She selected a vehicle that wasn’t too overbearing, but so as to emphasize her seriousness, not too cute, either, with an eye to functionality with comfortable cushions to sit on, and got in. The front seats were divided from the back by a partition, so the rear space was only for Puk Puck. Careful to avoid wrinkling in her dress, she flopped over to lie down.

There would be one more person on the way back. Of course she wouldn’t be able to lie down then. Even between friends, you had to mind your manners.

When leaving the estate, she had some casters quickly put up a special barrier that would keep others from noticing that the gates of the estate had opened or that a vehicle had left the gates. The things that were truly necessary, you couldn’t tell others. Only Puk Puck’s friends should know.

The vehicle did not rattle at all. It was no different from lying in her own room.

She rolled over and thought about Sachiko, who was still on the lam. She was a coward and a weakling, and she would immediately run away from anything unpleasant, but even so, Puk Puck loved her. When Sachiko cried, Puk Puck would pet her head and kindly ask her why she was upset. Sachiko would sniffle and tell Puk Puck about what sad thing had recently happened.

What sort of things would Sachiko tell Puk Puck about this time once she was home? She would surely tell her all about what awful things had happened, what sad things had happened.

Imagining petting Sachiko’s head made Puk Puck feel nice. Sachiko’s head was very well-shaped, and her hair would rub smoothly against her palm as they ran away from her strokes.

She would tell her new friend as well—about just how good, just how cute Sachiko was.