Mahou Shoujo Ikusei Keikaku - Volume 11 - Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

WITH THE FINAL BATTLE AT HAND

  CQ Angel Hamuel

“We’ve received a notice from the team monitoring Puk Puck’s estate.”

“And they said?”

“They have reported that sixteen large trucks have been given entrance to the estate, and they’ve begun to load them with goods from their storehouses.”

“Just as I presumed, eh.” This voice came from a girl in her late teens, which was older than average for a typical magical girl. It had none of the shrill pitch particular to young girls. It would be no overstatement to say her tone exuded nobility. However, her diction and speech were rather unique.

Word had gotten around to the Osk Faction that the Puk Faction was selling off its artworks and magical items. They’d surely meant to be covert, but they’d messed that up by seeking deals with antique arts merchants who had deep ties with the Osk Faction. Since every detail of these deals was transmitted to Hamuel in real time, she could pinpoint when the Puk Faction would acquire magical gems. In other words, she could follow its every move.

Hamuel was of the opinion that the Three Sages’ lack of contact with broader society made them naive about the ways of the world. No matter how malicious they were in their hearts, they believed they would not ever suffer the malice of others. That was how Grim Heart had been, and Puk Puck was cut from the same cloth.

“Tell them to drag out negotiations as much as possible, eh. But not so much that the sellers become fed up with them for wasting their time—enough that even if it vexes them, they think, If I end this negotiation, then all this time I’ve spent will have been wasted, and I want to avoid that.”

“That’s a rather complex order to fulfill.”

“If you imply there’ll be a big deal for them down the line, eh, then they’ll work beyond their usual capabilities.” Sunk into the sofa, the magical girl drew back her chin. The heart Shufflin II who attended at her side immediately held out a sake cup for her and poured a bright-orange fruit juice into it. The magical girl sipped at it to taste, swishing it around in her mouth before swallowing it.

Everything about that gesture looked so arrogant. Her horn-shaped headdress was edged with lace, her luxurious dress required that the skirts be lifted or dragged in order for her to walk around properly, and those things combined with her attitude gave her a very self-important air. But because she was so over the top, she wound up looking less like an important person and more like a caricature of an important person made to mock one. Add to that the way she emphasized “eh” when she spoke, whatever her intentions were, and the result was just silly.

Hamuel would normally have mentally insulted such a figure with disgust, but at this point her new mistress actually seemed like a reliable person. For starters, the bare fact that she was sitting on the sofa and not complaining was something Hamuel could appreciate. If this were Grim Heart, even in a hotel suite, she would certainly have brought in her throne to sit on.

In that regard, Lethe was possessed of more worldly wisdom. Unlike the incarnations of the Three Sages—Grim Heart chief among them—she’d had many opportunities to involve herself with the world.

They said Lethe enjoyed duels in which both participants put their pride on the line, and that she was drawn to unbeatable strength. Hamuel had even heard that she’d once sneaked into an event run by the now-defunct combat club, the Archfiend Cram School, a move just like something out of a historical drama. “Come now, they may call these the leading fighters, but that’s merely among the common people, eh. There aren’t many magical girls worthy of respect,” Lethe had claimed with unsurprising arrogance over dinner, but if she said there weren’t many worth respect, that meant there were at least some.

Grim Heart had been created through a process of experiments to make magical girls of higher performance. She had been a specially manufactured, ultra-high-quality magical girl who had even been chosen to be an incarnation of one of the Three Sages. Growing cocky in that position, Grim Heart had not seemed to possess such sensitivities of the heart as respect for others. Unlike Grim Heart, Lethe did have modesty and reserve. In other words, Hamuel was grateful to have this type as her superior. Hamuel would even consider her not a cheap substitute for Grim Heart, but rather a superior individual.

“I would figure they plan to attack the ruins, eh,” said Lethe.

“Quite likely so,” replied Hamuel.

The magical device that had been created by the very first mage, the teacher of the Three Sages, could also be called the treasure of the Magical Kingdom. Mages of ancient times had placed it under heavy seals, and it currently couldn’t be used at all, but it was kept under careful management. Its function was to store up the immense magical powers that filled the world and emit them if necessary…or so the stories said. But aside from the Three Sages, there were no living mages who had seen this machine in operation. One theory claimed that when the machine had absorbed too much magic too quickly, the balance of the world had begun to crumble, and in a panic, the mages had stopped it and sealed it away. But no one knew if that was true or not.

The device had been sealed away in ruins in a separate dimension created by magical means. The management of that space had been entrusted to the Osk Faction. Though it had been decided in a conference of the Three Sages that they would use the device to hold the ceremony, it wasn’t like the Osks could hand it over immediately, and of course the transfer would take quite some time. So their plan was to use that time to overturn the decision made in the previous meeting. The Puk Faction would probably not be pleased by this idea.

“I figure when the time comes, there’ll be a fight,” said Lethe.

“Oh, I’m sure there will be,” Hamuel agreed.

It had been quite some time since the magical power that filled the world had thinned and the Magical Kingdom had lost the ability to maintain its true form. The mages had chosen of their own accord to split their world into pieces and connect them to countless different worlds to keep the Magical Kingdom in existence by depending on the magic of those other worlds. After creating these detached territories, they called the whole entity the Magical Kingdom. But taking back the old Magical Kingdom had become its leaders’ dearest wish. And the heads of the factions, in particular, had put together a variety of plans to acquire enough magic to restore the Magical Kingdom. It was a self-evident truth that whichever faction made its plans a success would be in a leadership position in the newly created homeland.

Various methods had been tested, but they had all failed. Though plan after plan had been put together, fewer and fewer people believed the Magical Kingdom could actually be restored.

Of these plans, the one the Puk Faction had suggested was to use the power of magical girls to undo the seal on the magic device and reactivate it. The Puks had stubbornly insisted on going through with this plan, but had refused to reveal the details of it to other factions. Of course, the Osk and Caspar Factions had been opposed to the plan, and it had not gone through. However, during the last of the three factions’ periodic conferences, the situation had taken a turn when the Caspar Faction had given in, claiming “conditional agreement.”

“A fight, eh? Looking forward to it,” said Lethe.

Hamuel was not looking forward to it at all, but she smiled back anyway.

Lethe set down her sake cup on the Battenberg lace tablecloth and sank particularly deeply into the sofa. Her eyes remained closed as she sat still for a while, but then she jolted out of her seat and leaned her face close to Hamuel. The sudden movement made Hamuel draw her chair back, and its legs scraped on the floor through the rug.

“Of course I shall fight, too, eh.”

This was not the Sengoku period, and it would normally be unthinkable for the general to head the forces and fight on the front lines. But if they were up against one of the incarnations of the Three Sages, they’d be forced to send out their strongest magical girl. The Osk Faction wasn’t able to use its incarnation right now, the blame for which largely lay with Grim Heart. That being the case, it had moved down to using its number two, Lethe. Lethe always liked to brag about how one time when she’d joined the Archfiend Cram School, she’d gotten the opportunity to fight Archfiend Pam, the one everyone praised as the strongest magical girl ever, and had barely gotten her to a draw. Hamuel knew the other factions would joke, “When the Osks start bragging, you should only listen to half, or a third,” and sadly enough, this was an accurate assessment. But even just half or a third would be a hell of a lot. Though Lethe was still not powerful enough to be chosen as a Sage incarnation, she was also a specially created magical girl, and a particularly strong one, too. Her abilities far surpassed those of regular magical girls—one supposed.

But still, Hamuel figured it was worth it to warn her. “Please take care not to be too reckless.”

“Of course. I have no desire to die, and it would be a quandary if I were gone.”

“It would be a quandary. A quandary for everyone.”

The heart Shufflin IIs nodded vigorously to express agreement, and Lethe sank back into the sofa. “But still, eh?”

“Yes, my lady?”

“If I found myself in a duel with Puk Puck, I wouldn’t be able to manage.”

Hamuel remembered the video she’d seen on that user-uploaded video site of Puk Puck dancing. Maybe some people would see that and think, Is that really so strong? but judging the strength of a magical girl by her superficial appearance was the height of foolishness. Puk Puck’s strength was in her magic, after all.

“You…wouldn’t?” Hamuel asked.

“Not at all. If Puk Puck and I come to cross swords, I shall run.”

Hamuel couldn’t criticize this as irresponsible. After all, some enemies you had no other choice but to flee.

In fact, she could even commend Lethe as a wise general for not letting her ego get the best of her as she charged into certain death. Since Grim Heart, who had been created to counter Puk Puck, was not in the picture, they should assume she would be too much for them to handle.

“I do plan to avoid a direct clash with Puk, though,” said Lethe.

“A wise decision.”

“If such a time comes, Hamuel…”

“Yes, my lady?”

“…you fight Puk. Ensure you buy as much time as possible, eh. I’ll use that time to flee.”

Hamuel failed to immediately grasp what she had just heard, then mulled it over, but nevertheless was still very far from understanding. Lethe certainly did not look like she was joking. Before Hamuel could consider the matter any further, she waved her hand back and forth in front of her face and shook her head even more rapidly than that. “Oh no, no, no!”

“None of this ‘no’ business.”

“But I wouldn’t stand a chance against her!”

“Ensure you do manage it, even if it’s impossible, eh. Listen, don’t think you have a way out of this. You mustn’t forget that you were originally supposed to have been doing something else, somewhere else even more frightening.”

Hamuel was speechless. After having been entrusted with a whole set of Shufflin IIs, then getting nearly all of them destroyed and failing to capture Premium Sachiko—actually, she’d basically failed to do anything—only to more or less shamelessly flee the scene and come crawling back to base, she was not allowed to whine or complain. The excuse “I was attacked by a Shufflin hunter come back from the dead” wouldn’t pass with anyone in the Osk Faction.

“Mm-hmm.” Lethe nodded, looking quite satisfied.

Hamuel wasn’t the least bit satisfied, but she couldn’t argue to Lethe’s face, and so she let her head hang with a weak “Agh.” Her positive evaluation of Lethe now evaporated, she fumed internally: The upper ranks of the Osk Faction are all the same, this devil’s child doesn’t even see people as people. She won’t even claim that when crisis comes calling, she’ll put her life on the line to save those who serve her?

About fifteen minutes after Hamuel politely accepted her death sentence, a five of clubs ran into the room without knocking, coming up to Lethe’s side to lean close to her ear and whisper something. Lethe did not take her to task for her rudeness, nodding and saying only, “Show her in.”

Hamuel stood and turned over the cushion she’d been sitting on, then moved to a corner of the room, diagonally behind Lethe, to the left. She stood proud with her shoulders back, keeping her fists squeezed gently in front of her stomach. She was nervous. And she thought that wasn’t unreasonable. Anyone, not only Hamuel, would be nervous about being present for the coming situation.

“Pardon me.”

“Come in.” Lethe got to her feet and extended a hand to her visitor. She kept a spade and a heart Shufflin positioned one on each side. “I’m Lethe. My thanks for coming today.”

This was someone Lethe would actually be gracious with, after all. There weren’t many people like that in the Osk Faction—just Chêne Osk Baal Mel, or her incarnation.

There were two visitors.

One was in a well-fitted gray suit, with her hair twisted into a ponytail, her wire-framed glasses flashing under the light of the chandelier. She could equally pass for someone in their late teens or their midforties; her age was difficult to place. If you were told she was a competent woman, you’d think, Indeed, and if you were told she was a slacker, you’d think, I bet she is—she was hard to grasp, or rather, she gave off an air of mystery. However, from her fairly plain and grounded appearance, at the very least, she was not a magical girl.

The second visitor came in with her hand being pulled. She looked the type to get pulled around by the hand. Her eyes and mouth were covered by layers of braided cords that were absolutely swarming in brightly colored patterns that had to have some kind of magical meaning. More were wrapped all around her body, too, so despite her being all dressed up in what seemed to be a kimono, her outfit was hardly visible. The lock of silver hair that poked out slightly was beautiful enough to make you sigh, so even hidden from sight, you could tell she was a magical girl.

But she seemed to be struggling to walk at all, regardless of the blindfold—she was tottering along with her hand being pulled, bumping her shin on a chair, bumping her shoulder on the door, and each time she bumped into something, she made a cute noise like a yelp or a moan.

The human woman took Lethe’s hand and firmly squeezed it back. “I’m pleased to meet you, Lethe. This is Ratsumukana-honome-no-kami.”

Yes, this was their first meeting. Having been selected so suddenly for her aptitude for combat, Lethe had never met this incarnation—Ratsumukana-honome-no-kami. And that meant others might well look down on her and see her as inexperienced. It was not good to be in that position of disrespect before negotiations even began, when they were already dealing with an incarnation of one of the Three Sages. Lethe had to understand that as well, as she wore an utterly serene smile.

Hands still clasped, the pair gazed at one another for a while, and then the woman went, “Ahh” and nodded. “Ratsumukana-honome-no-kami is in a state, as you can see, so you’ll be unable to converse with her directly. I, Yoshioka, will be interpreting for her. And just as she cannot speak, she is also unable to eat or drink, so she shall be refraining from any refreshments or beverages as well.”

Was “in a state, as you can see” humor, her standard joke, or was it that something so incredibly rude had fallen from her lips naturally? Hamuel didn’t know, and she didn’t have the right to ask. Lethe offered no particular response, prompting the two of them to sit, and so the interpreter Yoshioka, as well as Ratsumukana-honome-no-kami, Sage incarnation, wobbled over to the bench where Hamuel had been and took a seat. Even the most mundane of movements looked very arduous for the incarnation.

“Well then, my lady Ratsumukana-honome-no-kami,” began Lethe.

“Oh, just Ratsumu will do. It would be such a hassle for you to address her by her full name; it’s quite the mouthful.” Yoshioka cut her off as if it were her own business, and since Ratsumukana-honome-no-kami did not take her to task for her rudeness, following that, they called Ratsumukana-honome-no-kami Ratsumu.

Lethe did not ask anything like, “She couldn’t even hear it in the first place, could she?” or “Even if she could, could she even talk anyway?” So Hamuel wouldn’t say those things, either.

“About the next meeting,” Lethe said.

“We will agree to the resuspension of the device,” replied Yoshioka. “It was also unexpected for us that the Puk Faction has been taking such rapid action. Our soft landing plan of establishing constraints and using them to restrain imprudent misuse has already fallen apart.”

It seemed as if this woman’s interpretation was not interpretation at all, and she was just talking freely of her own accord, but was that Hamuel’s imagination? Glancing over, she saw that the other end of the chain on the restraints binding Ratsumu’s hands and feet was in the interpreter’s hands, and, realizing that the woman had not been pulling Ratsumu’s hand but tugging on her chain, Hamuel slowly averted her eyes.

“And so you say you will be voting for resuspension?” said Lethe.

“Yes. Unlike you and yours, and the Puk Faction, we were few in number and lacking in funds, nothing but a worthless minor faction. Nevertheless, a vote is a vote. And as long as we have this single vote—”

“Your conditions?”

“If we might have your guarantee that we will receive twenty percent of the rights for the new development enterprise currently being planned.”

“The paperwork?”

“Right here.”

“Hamuel, the seal.”

Some people out there would flip sides like playing cards for the sake of personal gain. Making good use of such types could keep conflicts down to a minimum. If they could make the resuspension of the device pass during the next meeting, that meant they only needed to stall the Puk Faction from acting until that meeting.

As a victory condition, nothing could be better. A political resolution could enable them to achieve their goal without spilling a drop of blood. But they couldn’t forget there was trouble brewing in the Puk Faction. This maneuver would postpone the enemy’s plans, but they couldn’t just let their opponent be. They had to firm up their defenses, so that if the Puks caused a situation, the Osks would be able to swiftly gain supremacy. They were currently engaged in additional rapid construction of a new type of magic barrier to protect the ruins, and they were saying that once it was done, it would be as impenetrable as a magical fortress.

But in order to do that, first, they had to manage this contract now. When Hamuel handed her a large, twenty-inch-square crystal stamp, Lethe raised it aloft.

Right before stamping the document, she leaned her face close to the interpreter’s, and the interpreter drew back, flinching. “Our collateral is military and financial might—you understand that, eh?”

“…We do.”

“There are a variety of benefits for both parties, if the Osk and Caspar Factions join hands. And not simply in terms of immediate benefit—it will bear fruit all the way to our grandchildren’s generation. Think of it as like acquiring a goose that lays golden eggs. This is our collateral of financial might. And if the need arises, then our military might will be of use. The Osk Faction will invest all forces to face the enemy, regardless of our own loss or gain… Yes, I can envision Puk Puck’s crying face.”

Threats were cheap, but when they came from the mouth of a magical girl in the position to carry them out, their value increased.

“Yes,” the interpreter replied with a smile and a nod. But as she stamped the documents, her hand was trembling slightly.

  Pfle

The Magical Girl Resources Department’s strength lay in its ability to put the right person in the right job, such as by assigning desk work to a specialist in desk work. The idea that you had to go out on your own two feet to gather information was simply looking at only one side of matters—the one who hired and supervised those people doing the legwork had to be very capable, or they would not be able to manage that information.

Having her people investigate the activity of the Puk Faction and Puk Puck, and having instructed them on what to do following that, Pfle left the Magical Girl Resources Department Headquarters. From here on out awaited work that only Pfle could do. Using the teleport gate, she headed for the Inspection Department. Under the guise of simplicity and austerity and out of consideration for the budget, the department headquarters hadn’t been renovated.

She had made the appointment a little earlier, over the phone.

Pfle wheeled through a passageway whose roof seemed ready to collapse at any moment, stopping in front of some gladiolas in a vase that conferred a touch of beauty to their drab environs. The receptionist of the Inspection Department, who was showing Pfle there, knocked on a heavy wooden door, and when she heard a voice say, “Come in,” giving them permission to enter, she turned the knob. With a smile to Pfle and an outstretched palm, she prompted, “This way.” It seemed that installing someone with a great smile at reception, out of a consideration for public image, was universal.

Smiling back at her, Pfle graciously said, “Thank you,” and headed inside.

This room was probably used to receive guests. The decor was reminiscent of a school principal’s office: two sofas facing each other, a dark-green carpet that really clashed with them, trophies atop the shelf, and framed certificates on the walls. There was a simple charm to it; it was the kind of thing someone who manages none of the interior design at home and leaves it all to their family would come up with through a lot of earnest effort, and the person who was waiting for her in that room had the same sort of simplicity.

“Hey. It’s been quite some time,” Pfle greeted her.

“Yes, it has,” Mana responded reluctantly, as if the very act of opening her mouth was tiresome. Pfle hadn’t seen her since they’d first met, when 7753 had introduced them. Pfle’s daily records included a note about their meeting, but it was entirely unclear what specifically they had talked about. Her recollection of their meeting was vague no matter how much she tried to remember—yet more evidence that Pfle’s memory had been tampered with.

She had assumed this would be easy with Mana’s proactive cooperation, but seeing her now, it seemed doubtful that their discussion then had gone well. Well, then, that’s fine, Pfle thought, accepting the situation easily. Pulling her wheelchair up beside the sofa, she grabbed the arms with both her hands to raise herself, doing a turn to the side in midair to land gently on the sofa.

Pfle’s acrobatic maneuver made Mana knit her eyebrows in slight confusion.

“Seeing as you went to the trouble to have a sofa there for me, I thought it rude not to use it,” said Pfle.

“Oh, not at all.”

7753 trusted Mana, and Mana neither tried to suck up to Pfle nor avoided her with a superficial attitude of respect—she just hated her. And she didn’t try to hide that attitude. She was confused by Pfle’s sudden move, but she didn’t criticize her for it. Pfle got an idea of what kind of person Mana was based on other observations as well: the movements of her face, her gestures, the way she held her cup, her conscious attempt at manners.

Wetting her mouth with the black tea that had been served to her, Pfle smiled with satisfaction. The tea leaves were good, the pour had been done correctly, and the cup had been appropriately warmed, too. Setting down the teacup, she turned to face Mana.

“To tell the truth, we’re rather in the midst of a crisis.”

“Uh-huh.” Mana’s response was dull, probably out of suspicion toward Pfle. Pfle couldn’t remember what they had discussed during that one conversation, but this mage’s suspicions were enough to help Pfle get to know her. She was someone worth trusting.

“I’ve come here to turn myself in.”

Mana’s expression darkened. The irritation in her eyes turned to even clearer loathing, and the angle between her eyebrows deepened, making her practically glare. Leaning forward, she laid her elbows on her knees, fingers folded. If not for her youthful appearance, she’d be very like a detective investigating a devious criminal. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.”

“Just what have you gotten up to?”

The respectful tone that Mana had been using because Pfle was basically the chief of a department was also beginning to peel away.

With a certain sense of satisfaction at having drawn such a reaction from her, Pfle continued. “The problem is that I don’t know.”

“What?” Mana’s face twisted in blatant loathing.

Pfle raised her hands to the other girl.

“Oh, this is neither a bad joke nor an attempt to tease you.” Though mentally she stuck in the addendum but I think it would be fun to tease you. She didn’t say that out loud, of course.

“I don’t have a complete grasp on what it is that I’ve done, as it seems my memory has been robbed from me by magic. So I also can’t at all recall what it was we spoke about the last time we met.”

“Well, even if you are lying,” Mana practically spat, “I could drag you in for obstruction or slander.”

“While I would appreciate that, this is no falsehood. You may think it strange that someone who doesn’t remember the facts could make such a declaration, but I can deduce some things based on pieces of the facts.”

“So you came here to hand yourself in based purely on guesswork?”

“I am the principal offender, and Shadow Gale is my accomplice—or so it seems. However, such memories are not in my possession. Shadow Gale should know where they are. She’s captive in the Puk estate. She’s been kidnapped. Could you get her back for me?”

The angle in Mana’s brow relaxed slightly. But her expression didn’t say that she trusted what Pfle was saying so much as that she just found all of this dubious. “She’s confined there?”

“That’s right. She’s being confined against her will.”

“If it’s true that she’s being confined, then all this about your crimes aside, we will take action.”

“The other party will not acknowledge that this is confinement, and due to magic, Shadow Gale herself will likely not believe herself to be confined. If we were to go save her, on account of these factors, I could easily anticipate you would be convinced that Oh, she wasn’t confined, after all, and then you’d come back.”

Mana knitted her eyebrows again, this time even more deeply than before.

Pfle slowly shook her head. “I have no ulterior motive here. I’m saying I’m outclassed.”

“By whom?”

“By the incarnation of one of the Three Sages, Av Lapati Puk Baltha—Puk Puck.”

All at once, Mana’s expression drew taut. Or would it be more accurate to say her muscles had stiffened up from anxiety? To mages like Mana, the Three Sages were absolute. If you kept going up and up, from the master of my master…, then no matter what mage it was, you’d wind up at the Three Sages. All mages saw them as great pioneers; there was a level of sacredness to them. Normally, even if a Sage incarnation had kidnapped a magical girl, no mage would ever try to interfere.

However, the mage in front of Pfle was not necessarily normal.

“In other words, I mean this,” Pfle said. “One of my subordinates, Shadow Gale, has been kidnapped and imprisoned. By a magical girl who is an incarnation of one of the Three Sages.”

Mana blanched. It was impressive that she did nothing worse. A normal mage would have yelled at Pfle and immediately driven her out, then pretended she’d never heard any of it.

To make doubly sure, Pfle added one more thing. “I hear Snow White is now a member of the Inspection Department. Reports indicate that she is working under Puk Puck. If that’s true, then I would assume this would also be a matter for your department to investigate.”

Mana leaned forward even farther, glaring over the long table with a pained expression. No matter how she might suffer, Pfle knew the conclusion she would ultimately come to. Pfle was confident that she had not misread the sort of person Mana was. Pfle had looked up her profile, and she had also seen the individual herself directly.

The magical girl whom Mana had admired like an older sister had been killed by a criminal magical girl. She loathed wrongdoing, and sought to punish those who committed it. She was overly serious, stubborn, and valued principles, and she would think that pulling back an investigation because the target was an important person would be the greatest shame of all, as well as equivalent to being complicit in the crime. That was a very fine spirit, for an inspector. Normally, Pfle would maintain a respectful distance from this type. She would have liked to avoid engaging with her, if possible. But now things were different. Mana would become a force with which to oppose Puk Puck. It would also be valuable to have the backing of the Inspection Department.

Mana never did put her thoughts into words. Pfle was escorted to a different room, and though she avoided any ropes or cuffs, she was put under watch. As she spoke to the brusque man who was her guard, Pfle’s ears were inclined to the flurry of footsteps running outside her room.

Hana Gekokujou’s death had driven into Mana’s heart like a linchpin. She would not make compromises when it came to justice, and she would try to continue being a just inspector. Even up against a powerful political force, she would not give way, and she would rise to face it. She would act exactly as Pfle had expected she would.

All of these events were enough for Mamori Totoyama alone to act contrary to expectations.

  Uluru

Something had changed inside her, but it was difficult to put into words. Uluru hadn’t had a lot of words to begin with, and most of all, she’d been so confused, too. She’d wanted to get Puk Puck to listen to her, but Puk Puck had simply trudged past without even looking at her. She’d also taken away Uluru’s only memento of Sachiko, the contract, and now Uluru had nothing left.

And even when she had returned to her room just as Puk Puck had told her to hug her knees and sit, all that came to mind was unpleasant thought after unpleasant thought.

Nothing like this had ever happened before. Sorami and Sachiko were both gone. Puk Puck was still there, but Uluru couldn’t bring herself to feel like she could really rely on her. Puk Puck was always in the center of the world, and it made her happier than anything to work for Puk Puck’s sake. She’d thought that if she simply did what Puk Puck said, she’d never go wrong. Deep down, however, Uluru was shaking, cold and clammy with anxiety. She was trying to think about Puk Puck and nothing else, but she couldn’t think about her as well as she had before.

She wanted to think of Puk Puck. But she couldn’t do it. Sachiko and Sorami were both gone and Uluru was the sole survivor. The only one who could serve Puk Puck was Uluru, but she couldn’t manage to think about Puk Puck, the one she served, very well.

Uluru hugged her knees even tighter.

It wasn’t as if she couldn’t think. She just couldn’t think well. The only thoughts that surfaced were how earlier it had seemed like Puk Puck was disinterested in Uluru, and that it hadn’t looked as if Puk Puck was thinking of the recently deceased Sorami and Sachiko, and it had looked as if she didn’t care if Sachiko was gone, as long as she had her contract. Uluru tried to chase away these thoughts, but they resurfaced every time, and no matter how she chased them off over and over again, they just kept popping up.

And about Sachiko, too. She’d said she didn’t want anyone else to meet misfortune because of her magic. What was Puk Puck trying to use Sachiko’s contract for? Uluru had heard she was using it in a ceremony, but not what the ceremony was for. Uluru had never questioned it—she’d taken for granted that it was the right thing and had obeyed Puk Puck. There had been something like a big pillar she could lean on there, and now it was like that pillar had been erased, and she felt so forlorn, and Sorami and Sachiko, who had supported her, were gone, and she was staying on her feet alone on her wobbly legs, but that was so hard, and she felt like she was about to fall.

If she were Sachiko, would she be able to pull off an escape?

If she were Sorami, would she be able to gently turn this aside?

What could Uluru do? It was her magic that was good at lying, not Uluru. She was absolutely terrible at lying. She couldn’t even lie to herself.

No matter how she thought and thought, it wouldn’t produce anything good, and it was the most she could do to just restrain tears. Still curled up holding her knees, she rolled down onto the futon, then came up again to swing in the opposite direction like a roly-poly toy, pressing her cheek to the tatami. A long time ago, before she’d become a magical girl, Sachiko had gotten marks on her cheeks from the flooring from sleeping on the floor, and they’d remained there for so long, everyone had laughed at her. Uluru had laughed the most of all, and Sorami, while laughing herself, had said, “If you laugh that hard, then I’ll feel bad for her.” Sachiko had been the one person rubbing her cheek and asking worriedly, “This will go away, right?”

Pushing off the tatami, Uluru got to her feet. If she didn’t pay attention, she’d wind up thinking about things other than Puk Puck. She couldn’t focus on the past right now; she had to think about the present. But when she tried to think about Puk Puck, she couldn’t help but think of awful things, and then the distant past, things that had been fun, things that had made her glad, rose in her mind of their own accord. Uluru was supposed to be the eldest, but with the way she was currently acting, she’d be setting a bad example for Sorami and Sachiko. And yet she remained paralyzed anyway.

She walked in circles around the room. When she didn’t move her body, she felt like she was going to rot right there. She had to move even just a little, to get her blood circulating to her extremities, so she could properly think and consider, so she could be useful to everyone.

Uluru walked. She walked and walked, over the four corners, around the border of the room, from one end to another, in circles around the center where the string of the florescent light hung. It felt like she was spiraling more and more tightly into the middle. She felt like she was far away from Puk Puck. So Uluru opened up the paper screen door and came out into the hallway. She strode briskly down the hall. All the other residents, both magical girl and otherwise, seemed busy. It was like they didn’t have the time to even look at her.

Uluru and her sisters included, the people who gathered around Puk Puck had particularly firm loyalty. But the people she’d seen just now were beyond any measure of normal allegiance. Uluru even got the sense from them that if Puk Puck wouldn’t have stopped them, they would cut her down for being a nuisance. Something in this mansion was going awry. A vague sense of unease rose from the ground at her feet. Uluru walked at the edges so she wouldn’t get in the way. She moved from empty spot to empty spot until before she knew it, there was no one around her anymore.

If she wasn’t going to think about Sorami or Sachiko, and if she wasn’t going to think about Puk Puck, either, then there was only one person who would come to mind: Snow White.

The one who’d killed Sachiko had been a friend of Snow White’s. At least they’d acted like friends, and Snow White had acknowledged as much. That was why Snow White was locked up in the reception room. Uluru had insisted that they should lock her up, and though Puk Puck had opposed it, saying that they didn’t have to go that far, Uluru had gotten her way in the end.

So was Sachiko killed by a magical girl who came here led by Snow White? she wondered. Thinking about Sachiko, spurting blood from her neck as she collapsed, made Uluru feel ready to burst. But we were so close, it was just one more step—she had agonized so much, but that wasn’t bringing Sachiko back.

They’d cleaned up the mess of blood from Sachiko’s face and made her look like when she’d been alive—not Premium Sachiko, but with the human Sachiko’s face, and she lay there, her eyes closed. Uluru had clung to Sachiko and wept, but Sachiko had still not gotten up. The hand in Uluru’s grasp had gone cold like an iron stick. Uluru had cried, she’d cried enough for her eyes to melt and fall apart, and then she’d cried still.

Puk Puck had shown her face once and shed tears in remembrance of Sachiko and Sorami, and then she’d hurriedly pattered off somewhere. Though there were a mountain of things Uluru wanted to say about the two of them, she hadn’t been able to talk with Puk Puck, and so, alone again, she had cried. The more she cried, the more she couldn’t understand why Sachiko had died. What the heck was up with Snow White’s friend? What the heck was up with Snow White?

Walking down the hallway, she came to a dead end.

She wanted to hear what Snow White had to say. Though it had only been a short while that she had worked with her, she felt as if they’d been together a long time. Uluru pulled out her toy rifle and held it in one hand. Standing in front of the reception room, she used the key in her pocket to open the door.

“Snow White!”

The magical girl in white sitting in the chair there slowly opened her eyes and looked up at Uluru.