by Asari Endou
When a leader takes the initiative and gives up twenty-five years of their life, who would make a fuss about shortening their own life by a few years? Through her actions, Swim Swim demonstrated how necessary this was and moved the other three to action. Yunael ended up paying for the medicine after losing a game of rock-paper-scissors.
They hadn’t quite believed Fav’s explanation that they’d lose years off their life, but as soon as they bought the items they knew it was true. The moment they clicked the PURCHASE button, a shuddering sensation ran up their spines, as if something had been taken from deep inside. In its place, only a chill remained.
“Swim Swim, aren’t you scared of dying twenty-five years earlier?” Tama asked.
“Yes.”
“Really? Then why?”
“I’m the leader. It was important.”
Swim Swim looked the same as always. No burdens, fear, or hesitation. She was so unperturbed, you’d never guess she’d just lost twenty-five years of her life. It was appalling.
How would Ruler have responded? What would Ruler have done? Ruler had dominated Tama’s thoughts recently.
Their old leader had been full of confidence. She’d been smart. Strong. Confidence, brains, strength—Tama possessed none of these, but Ruler had.
She was also the one who’d taught Tama how to be a magical girl. Most who tried to teach her ended up throwing her out halfway through. Kindergarten, elementary school, middle school—the story was always the same. Her teachers either wrote her off as a lost cause, or she graduated before fully grasping the content.
But Ruler hadn’t abandoned her. She’d called her an idiot, hit her, and abused her, but still she’d allowed her to stay. Tama’s attempts to nuzzle her leg were met with kicks, but she hadn’t minded if it meant she wasn’t abandoned. The day she’d received her collar, she’d been so happy she ran around the temple grounds and got a scolding for being obnoxious.
She’d assumed Swim Swim thought the same of Ruler—until she suggested a betrayal.
At first, she’d thought it was a joke or something. Or maybe there was some deeper meaning she didn’t understand. She remained confused throughout the whole process, until eventually the coup d’état succeeded and Swim Swim became the new leader after Ruler’s death. Despite knowing the plan, she hadn’t understood it, so the news was a huge surprise to Tama. However, she was in no position to object, and unable to do anything, here she was at Ouketsuji.
“Ohhh, amazing!” “So magi-cool!” “It seems really sharp.” “I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong end of that.”
Swim Swim’s weapon resembled a naginata pole arm but lacked the distinctive curved blade. Instead, the steel resembled a giant knife. The handle was about a yard long, the blade maybe a foot. It certainly wasn’t worth all the praise the angels lavished upon it, and it looked unrefined and awkward. Were they just trying to suck up?
“Whatcha gonna name it?” “The instructions said to give it a cool name, right?”
Swim Swim bowed her head and thought for a while.
“Ruler,” she muttered. Unable to discern why she gave it the exact same name as their former leader, the Peaky Angels and Tama all stared at the weapon. It shone in the light of the angels’ halos.
Swim Swim had proposed they share the items among themselves. Ultimately, Tama ended up with the invisibility cloak, Swim Swim with the weapon, and the Peaky Angels with the energy pills. The reason Swim Swim wound up with the cheapest item despite paying the most was because she herself requested it. No one dissented.
“Don’t you want to use the best item?” Tama asked Swim Swim.
“This weapon goes with my magic. That cloak goes with yours,” she said. Then she added, “The Peaky Angels are holding the pills for safekeeping.”
Tama wondered what she meant by the cloak “going with” her magic, but couldn’t think of a reason. She sort of understood why a weapon suited Swim Swim—she looked best when wielding it, after all. Swim Swim reached out and patted her on the head, as if she thought Tama was troubled instead of attempting to think. Ruler most likely would have yelled at her and called her an idiot. She wasn’t sure which she preferred. Maybe one day she would be.
Everyone had to know—even Tama knew, and she was as slow as they come. La Pucelle’s accidental death that week meant no one was cut. Then the items had been added. Most of them seemed more appropriate for purposes other than helping people. Swim Swim and the Peaky Angels were raring to go. When she considered what for, Tama shivered.
High-quality furnishings decorated an elegant room: a shag carpet with a complex design, a small ebony desk, a black leather sofa, a gorgeous chandelier, simple watercolor paintings in lavish frames, a three-pronged coat rack, honey-colored candles in a dull-silver candelabra. There was even a pillar and solid wood flooring. This must be the club’s VIP room, she thought as she surveyed the place.
Calamity Mary inspired as many bad rumors as there were stars in the sky, one of which was that she had ties to a criminal gang. She’d entered the building via the back door and passed smoothly through to this room, ignoring the other guests and getting past the black suits without hassle. Given this, it was hard to deny the stories.
Magicaloid 44 was a robot magical girl. She wore backpack-shaped booster rockets on her back, a weapon rack around her waist, an antireflective hood over her main camera, and various smaller thrusters all over her body for minor adjustments during flight, and her body was made of magicalium alloy that felt like human skin but was harder than steel. If the other magical girls were humans in cosplay, then Magicaloid 44 was a robot made to look human. She was certainly different, that was for sure. Yet none of the staff shrieked in shock or pointed at her. Their expressions hardened, but that was all.
“Your teachings are sinking in, it seems.”
“Kissing my ass will get you nowhere.”
Calamity Mary chugged the amber liquid filling her Baccarat crystal glass. With her legs spread and her hips sunk into the sofa, she formed the very picture of a gunslinger out of a spaghetti Western.
Magicaloid 44 remembered the post that had made the rounds on the Internet at the beginning of the month about Calamity Mary’s assault on the apartment of a Triad gangster. Some reports said she’d acted alone, but the stories that called it a paid hit were more accurate. The compensation would be, say, permission to drink all the expensive alcohol in a high-class club and free rein to use it for her own personal reasons while the staff pretended not to notice anyone she brought with her.
Knowing her, it was quite possible. Their relationship was merely that of veteran and newbie, but even so, she understood that any comments about Calamity Mary’s behavior would cost you.
“The items are on sale now,” said Magicaloid 44.
“What did you buy?”
“Nothing. I value my life,” she answered honestly. No one lied to Calamity Mary.
“So boring. I bought the bag. It seems useful.”
“I envy you.”
How many times that day had Calamity Mary knocked back a glass of that amber liquid? While Magicaloid 44 remained expressionless on the outside, on the inside she sighed. Magical girls were immune to poison—their physical strength nullified its effects. So obviously they couldn’t get drunk off alcohol, yet still Calamity Mary continued to drink. Was it one of her human habits, or just a part of her magical-girl character?
“So, did you give any thought to my proposal?”
“What was it…? You wanted to team up with me?”
“Yes. That is what I said over the magical phone.”
La Pucelle’s death had meant no one was cut for one week. In other words, if anyone died, she would be the one cut, regardless of candy count. Some most likely considered this method quicker than simply earning candy. It was better to act than wait to be killed.
So far, there was Swim Swim’s band of four, Top Speed with Ripple, and Sister Nana with Winterprison. Magical girls were starting t
o team up more and more, and it was becoming far too dangerous to act alone. The ones still without a group were Snow White; the Magician of the Forest, Cranberry; Calamity Mary; and the new girl. Of those, Magicaloid 44 only had a connection to Calamity Mary, albeit a tenuous one. Mary was also the most reliable in combat.
“I do not mind if you think of me as an errand girl. The only way I survive is if I depend on your power.”
“I see.”
Calamity Mary stopped drinking and stared into Magicaloid 44’s eyes. She seemed to be appraising her, or searching for a hint of a lie. Or maybe she was just staring blankly with no thoughts behind her eyes at all. The room was soundproofed from the outside world, and without even a single ticking clock, it was truly silent. The ice in her glass cracked.
“Y’know, the good thing about you is you always seem ready to stab me in the back.”
“Betraying you is an unwinnable game.”
“I like how you keep me on my toes. If it’s not today, it’ll be tomorrow. Or the day after that.”
“Please.”
Magicaloid 44 laughed, trying to dodge her suspicion, but there was no telling if she actually had. In her head, she marveled.
Calamity Mary was absolutely correct.
Magicaloid’s magic changed daily. Each day, she could remove at random from her weapon rack one of 444,444,444 “useful futuristic gadgets” that became usable for that day only. If she could consistently obtain powerful gadgets, she’d never need to team up with anyone. She’d simply destroy all her enemies with ease. But some days she’d end up with items she could not for the life of her understand how to use, like the Fat Removal Manipulator or the Insect Breeding Appraiser. Those were hardly useful. For all her good days, she had equally bad ones, and that was no good.
Calamity Mary was a brutish, violent, irrational, and vulgar woman, but that was most likely the type of magical girl the management was looking for. Under the current rules, those were the only ones who could survive after the addition of the items. Thus, Magicaloid 44 had to follow suit.
“I’d rather die than partner with a fathead like Ruler or an idiot like Sister Nana. Winterprison and Cranberry I’d rather fight than serve. Snow White should just shut up and die.”
Calamity Mary’s appraisal of the other girls seemed convincing, at least to Magicaloid 44. The gunslinger was hardly the intelligent or logical type, but she did have experience.
“Then what about me? Magicaloid 44?”
“I guess you could be a good underling. A good servant to your master. You get a passing grade.”
“So you will team up with me?”
“If you pass my test, I don’t mind letting you watch my back.”
“Test?”
“Go kill someone.” Joy spread across her face as she imagined something. “Don’t worry. If you die instead I’ll be sure to avenge you. I’ll host the grandest, most extravagant, most breathtakingly bloody massacre in your honor.”
Support pole, sign, concrete base—she tore them apart with the ease of a knife through butter. Ripple shredded the steel signs, then chucked the pieces into a basket, one after another. No matter how she threw the steel, it would morph unnaturally and land in the basket, as if it had been sucked in. Her magic, the accuracy of her shuriken, seemed to affect anything she threw with her hands. The rules were surprisingly lax in that regard.
Kitayado locals had been complaining for over a month that the three foreign road signs—complete with concrete around the base, as if they’d been ripped straight out of the ground—had been abandoned in an emergency fire lane. Apparently, there was some confusion about which department was in charge of such matters. Until they were disposed of, they’d just sit there wasting people’s time, fanning the flames of their anger, so that night the two magical girls worked to dispose of them.
All that was left to do was leave the pieces marked as unburnable trash at the dump, and their mission would be complete. Once morning came, someone would see it and take care of it. This would most likely net them each one hundred pieces of candy, a large amount in line with the effort required.
“Okay, all ready. Hop on.”
“The weight…”
“Hmm?”
“The weight… Will it be okay…?”
“Oh, is that what you’re worried about? Naw, no problemo!”
The cargo hung from Top Speed’s broomstick, Rapid Swallow. Thanks to the additional concrete, the signs might have weighed about the same as a person, though it was difficult to tell. Ripple worried whether the broomstick would still float, but Top Speed easily took flight with Ripple and the remains of the signs in tow.
“I can’t go as fast, though. Not because of the weight, but because of the air resistance and stuff. I don’t really understand it.”
Ripple clicked her tongue.
The broomstick was certainly slower than normal. But that wasn’t what irritated her. It was because she was so used to sitting in the back seat that she instantly recognized the slower speed.
They had utterly and unequivocally become a pair. Even the Internet was calling them the witch and ninja duo. Ripple tsked and tightened her grip around Top Speed’s waist.
“Don’t get so mad.”
“I’m not mad…”
“Sure, it sucks we couldn’t snag an item. But how many things are really worth paying for with your life span?”
By the time Ripple had learned the items were on sale, they were all sold out. Apparently, the same went for Top Speed. She’d called right away.
“The game’s hook was that it was free to play, anyway. This is nothing.”
If they were partners, fine. Ripple just wished she could trust her partner more. Top Speed simply wasn’t reliable. She kowtowed to Calamity Mary, even groveled, and she couldn’t even obtain a single item. Ripple found herself constantly wondering if a mere chauffeur was worth calling a partner.
“We could be killed without one…”
“By who?”
“Another magical girl…”
“Ha-ha! No way. We can always run away if it looks like we’re about to die. Who’s gonna catch me if I snatch you up and zoom off into the sky?”
“Some of them can fly… Like the angels in the video…”
“Sure, the Peaky Angels and Magicaloid 44 can fly. But there’s a huge difference between flying and flying faster than anyone, Ripple. No magical girl can catch me!”
Top Speed grabbed the brim of her hat and pulled it lower. It was impossible to tell her expression from behind, but her tone was terribly light.
“I’m not bluffing or blowing hot air, either. I’m doing this magical-girl thing because I can run away whenever I like. I can’t die for at least six more months.”
She was constantly going on about those six months, so Ripple constantly asked her what would happen. But she never got a satisfying answer. Maybe she’d find out in six months.
Underneath the moonlight, the broomstick carried its two passengers across the sky.
Snow White spun to look behind her in the empty alley. Fear coursed through her veins, and her ears strained to hear even the tiniest noise. She could have sworn she heard something drop on the asphalt. Maybe it was just her imagination. Practically every day since La Pucelle’s death, she’d felt someone nearby and called out, but received no response. Sometimes, she sensed something approaching and lay in wait, but no one ever showed.
Whenever she turned around, no one was there. She knew her nerves were running high, but she couldn’t relax. She was too afraid.
Snow White ran.
She darted from alley to alley in the long shadows created by the moonlight. She tried her best to keep out of the light, but after three turns, she heard a noise behind her. Something was rhythmically tapping on concrete. When Snow White stopped, the noise stopped.
Footsteps?
Goose bumps ran up her skin. She turned around to find a pair of eyes staring right back at her. A magical girl she
’d never seen before was hiding behind a wall. She had on an apron dress with puffy sleeves, socks, shoes, drawers, and a ribboned headband. She was the spitting image of Alice from Alice in Wonderland, but all her clothes were black. The only white thing on her was the creepy plush rabbit under her arm. Her hunched posture reminded Snow White of a predator about to pounce on its prey.
“Finally… I’ve found you.”
Joy shone from within her dull, iris-less eyes, and the corners of her lips twisted upward.
Snow White couldn’t move a muscle. One step, two steps, three—the girl slowly drew closer. On the fourth, she was about fifteen feet away. Snow White tried desperately to keep her knees from shaking. After that, the girl stopped.
The black Alice cocked her head. Slowly, ever so slowly, it continued to tilt until, with a pop, it fell off. Where her head had been, Snow White could clearly see her windpipe, her veins, and even her spine. The next second, a geyser of blood showered the small street.
The decapitated body sank to its knees and collapsed on top of its head. Snow White struggled to understand what had just happened. Covered in the black Alice’s blood, she stared wide-eyed and unblinking at the convulsing corpse.
“Well, it appears I ended up saving you.”
A robot appeared from behind the black Alice’s body and stepped over it, seemingly not worried if the blood stained her shoes. She splashed toward Snow White through the pool forming from the headless corpse.
“We have met in chat many times, have we not? I am Magicaloid 44.”
She looked exactly like a robot. Her skin was plasticky, her eyes red. Distinctive designs added a magical-girl touch to the mechanical bits on her back, legs, hips, and other places on her body. On her back, she wore a red backpack much like an elementary schooler’s.
