Mahou Shoujo Ikusei Keikaku - Volume 7 - Chapter Ep

EPILOGUE

Mariko parked her car in the lot in front of the supermarket.

The area near the temple was mostly full of shops selling Buddhist paraphernalia. She’d gone out thinking she should buy some flowers there, but none of the shops had any. Not too far off was a supermarket with a flower shop beside it.

Normally, Mariko went to her local flower shop, which was bigger than the chain stores in the suburbs and packed full of plants. The staff were knowledgeable enough to contend with even the most dedicated of botanists, and the care they provided for the plants was based on said knowledge. It seemed they had dealings with some supplier, too; if you wanted to order niche flower seeds, they would import from other countries. Of course, they had nothing that would be stopped at customs, but it was a rather convenient shop.

The flower shop she was visiting that day wasn’t all that big. It had to be in business either because they got some spillover customers from the supermarket next door or because they were selling flowers for the cemetery nearby—it was a very small shop. They didn’t offer much in terms of variety, either.

But it would be enough to buy something for a grave. Mariko chose a bunch with pretty buds and took it to the counter.

“Thaaanks very much!”

The clerk was weirdly friendly. He had to be a university student working on the side or just a guy with no career ambitions. His hair was brown, it looked like he had six piercings in total, counting both sides, and he had an extremely cheap and overly casual way of speaking.

Well, it was probably better than being unfriendly.

“Doing some kinda research, miss?”

How did he know that? Oh, but now that she thought about it, Mariko was still wearing her white coat.

Mariko always wore a suit and a white coat when in human form, her lackadaisical mind-set being that this getup was formal enough. But of course, you couldn’t wear a lab coat to a cemetery. Embarrassed, she took it off and folded it up to carry with her. “Well, yes, I suppose that’s about right.”

“Are you an academic or something? Wow, that’s pretty impressive for someone so young.”

“Oh, no. I’m really not that young at all.”

“Aw, come on. You’re not that much older than me, are you? You’ve got real nice skin. Seriously, you’re gorgeous. And your hair’s pretty, too. You’ve got it done up in a real cool way—where’d you get it done? It’s gotta be some nice place in the city, right?”

She looked at the clerk’s hands. Why was he taking so long when all he had to do was cut the flowers to an even length and wrap them in paper? Was he going to put a ribbon on it?

“So you’re like a STEM lady, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” Mariko adjusted her glasses with the middle finger of her right hand. When she did this inadvertently, it meant her mood was going downhill. She cleared her throat slightly.

“I admire that. I like smart women.”

“Oh, I’m not really.”

“Are you gonna be using these for an experiment?”

“Huh? Using what?”

“These flowers.”

What sort of experiment could she use graveside flowers for?

“No, nothing like that.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. These are a different kind, huh?”

“Well, more or less.”

“You off to visit your boyfriend’s grave or something?”

“What?”

“That’s real sad.”

Her heel clicked heavily. This indicated even more irritation than adjustment of her glasses.

Mariko knew herself better than anyone. Based on her manner and appearance, people might call her rational or intellectual, but she never showed her true nature. She could only hide who she really was—violent, impulsive, emotional—when there was no one around to make her angry. She could show restraint and even be social. So she would rarely get angry.

But that depended on who she was dealing with.

Lately, she’d been coming across no one but men like this. Maybe she should tell herself to be ashamed at her own low level, for coming to a shop with low-quality staff who would try to hit on customers. That was the sort of thing the Archfiend would have said. But even the classier shops had staff who acted like this. She’d dealt with one just the other day.

Did she look like that careless of a woman? It was sad that she couldn’t even deny that, because she’d come to visit a grave wearing her lab coat.

“Man, there’s something awfully dramatic about that, y’know?”

“Oh, really?”

“I respect that.”

“Do you now?”

“Oh, I’m just about to finish up here, so how about we have lunch together? There’s a nice place real close by; not many people know it. Y’know, you’ll never be able to move on if you’re all sad, so, like, let’s treat this as a celebration of meeting someone new.”

If Mariko were to get angry, it would be a disaster—a real calamity. It was already bad enough that she’d recently lost her reputation as a magical girl.

In order that she not lose her temper at times like these, she would let the other person know that she might get angry soon, and so to please leave it at that, okay?

Mariko grabbed the clerk—who was ever-so-slowly tying up the flowers—by the collar and yanked him close, before whispering to him, voice low, “Do your job, mister.”

Then she thrust him away, and without trying to hide his displeasure, the guy hastily put together the bundle of flowers and passed them over to her—quickly and quietly. He could do his job properly when he felt like it, huh? Mariko smiled only with the edges of her cheeks and accepted the proffered flowers.

Archfiend Pam had taught her to stay in magical-girl form as much as possible. Her point was that lessening your time as a human and continuing to be a magical girl would keep you from forgetting the physical sensation of it and make it your own. Making every part of your daily routine your training would bring you to greater heights.

That sort of haughty advice was very like her.

The Archfiend hadn’t been considering those who, once transformed, were filled by the desire for battle and couldn’t focus a second thought on their mundane lives. She based everything on her own standard when she spoke and never considered exceptions.

Marika Fukuroi fought as her instincts demanded, while Mariko Fukuroi would record and research the time for germination, the results of the flowers and other things, supporting Mariko so she could fight easier. She ran this three-legged race all by herself.

Yes, it was a solo three-legged race. Once, there had been someone else in the race with her. Now, she was alone.

What had she been thinking, following a magical girl like Marika Fukuroi? If Mariko had been in her position, she would have refused, no matter what. Her pattern had been reluctance followed by being dragged along, and she’d always followed Marika. She had supported Marika, even more than Mariko.

It had been an intense battle, and even those who hadn’t seemed they would die, had. Had Marika Fukuroi ever lost consciousness in a battle, even once before?

Marika had awoken on a bed after her rescue and, hearing the story that the Magical Girl-Hunter had saved her and carried her out, she felt miffed. Shufflin and Grim Heart had died in an accident during their arrest—they had obviously been silenced. Maybe they’d been allowed to escape, but even if they had, Marika was not going to get the rematch she wanted, and she’d wound up even grumpier.

Had Mimi been there, she would have chided her: “You’re not a child.”

Squeezing the flowers tight, Mariko unlocked her car. The bouquet on the passenger seat was already starting to come apart from the wrappings, and Mariko adjusted the position of her glasses with her right middle finger.

7753, from Magical Girl Resources, was known within and without the department for being a shrewd administrative figure—someone who would, with merciless evaluation, report on the quality or lack thereof in any magical girl… or so 7753 had heard from Mana. She’d thought someone was playing a trick on her.

7753 knew better than anyone that she was the farthest thing from shrewd. Even Tepsekemei had warned her to “get yourself together a bit more.” She was concerned that 7753 might be getting too emotionally involved in her work. “It’s worrying, so worrying,” she muttered over and over before disappearing out the ventilation fan.

Had Tepsekemei been trying to reenact a drama or movie she had seen recently, or was she actually worried?

7753 couldn’t possibly be shrewd if Tepsekemei worried about her. Plus, she had to keep in mind that Mana had been laughing when she said that others were calling her shrewd.

Mana, who had been watching a movie she’d recorded while drinking coffee, was currently tasked with helping Tepsekemei garden—or rather, construct a secret base under the pretense of gardening—and kneading her fingers in the soil.

When you were trying to take your time making something, the magic of a mage was way more useful than the magic or physical prowess of a magical girl. The delicacy of it, which required perfection in the processes of rituals that had been put together over the course of many years, would give corresponding results. If 7753 said something like, it was perfect for making a secret base, Mana would definitely get mad at her, so she kept that thought to herself.

She’d felt bad for forcing her to help make this den for Tepsekemei, but when she checked on their progress thirty minutes later, Mana was giving Tepsekemei directions and transplanting a tree.

With mud on her cheek that she wasn’t trying to rub off and a serious expression on her face as she gave instructions, Mana looked to be thoroughly enjoying herself. Perhaps she was more childish than 7753 had imagined. Now that she thought about it, Mana couldn’t hold her booze, either.

7753 started rinsing out the coffee cups in the sink. The German-made sponge made them surprisingly sparkly with just a little bit of detergent and scrubbing.

7753 was not shrewd.

But her career as a magical girl had been fairly long. She could hazard a good guess as to what sort of position she was in now. Her boss, Pfle, had been attacked. 7753… or rather, all the most important figures in Magical Girl Resources, were supposed to be on standby at home. They’d been forced to abandon their regular duties.

The more she thought about it, the stranger it got.

Even if Pfle, the boss of Magical Girl Resources, was cooperating with an investigation, that was no reason for 7753 to have to take time off. Pretty much the entire department was currently suspended from operation. It had already been a week like this. At this rate, all magical-girl personnel functions would fall behind. She doubted the Magical Kingdom wanted that.

Mana, who had come as soon as 7753 had been told to stay on standby at home, was vague about the process of the investigation and had avoided speaking about it. 7753 had assumed it was just something she couldn’t tell outsiders, but she had said, “It’s because basically, I’m your guard.”

Even if 7753 wasn’t a good fighter, compared to Mana, she was on the stronger side.

To say the less of Tepsekemei, who despite being a newbie who’d only recently become a magical girl, was a real formidable survivor who had fought the strongest of magical girls, like Archfiend Pam, Sonia Bean, and Pukin. She was really someone you could count on when it came to a fight.

7753 had laughed, “I don’t need a guard,” to which Mana had replied, “That’s the pretext, but I’m actually supposed to be watching you.” She said that, currently, 7753 was under house arrest, and Mana was her minder.

If that was the case, then what did it mean that Pfle was cooperating with an investigation?

Mana was a member of the Inspection Department. It was their job to investigate to make sure other departments were doing their jobs properly. The way they operated was quite severe, and they said that hearing only the name of the Inspection Department would make those magical girls who had their hands in shady side businesses start to shiver.

How shady…

Just what had happened with that job 7753 had requested of Frederica? What sort of job had that even been? After being asked to act as messenger that one time, she’d heard no more news of it at all. 7753 didn’t ever want to see Frederica again, but she knew painfully well the danger of leaving her be.

The cups in the sink clinked together loudly, snapping 7753 out of her thoughts. Flustered, she checked them and was relieved to see she hadn’t broken anything.

Pfle had accomplished her success with unprecedented speed. Was it bias to think that a speedy success was always accompanied by shady work? 7753 knew that Pfle was an exceptionally talented individual.

She also knew that you couldn’t succeed in this business merely by being good at the job.

If Pfle had gotten up to some nasty business, then what would happen to Magical Girl Resources when that became public? There would be an uproar, and it would turn everything upside down, and there would no longer be anyone in a position to handle it.

The incident in B City had not yet been entirely resolved. 7753 wanted to know what had happened there. She wanted to find even just Ripple’s body. She wanted to see the end of the fiend that was Pythie Frederica—and she couldn’t be the only one. Mei and Mana would feel the same way. And to that end, she needed Pfle’s help. Pfle would surely cooperate.

And the incident in B City wasn’t all. It had been the same for the incident that had occurred in S City, too.

Unlike the time in B City, 7753 had not been involved in that mess herself. In the middle of that one had been her. 7753 looked up at the ceiling. She was thinking about the second floor, above her. Was she sleeping in bed today, too?

Tangled up in the plan in S City to create artificial magical girls, there had been deaths. 7753 didn’t really understand what an artificial magical girl was, but from what Mana had said, it seemed to be a big deal. Apparently, most of these created magical girls had died, and now the one 7753 had in her custody, Princess Deluge, was the only survivor.

Everything about this incident was suspicious.

The bloody battle that had occurred within the artificial magical-girl research facility came to light when Deluge had escaped and made outside contact. They’d put together proof and witnesses, and things had gotten to the point where the guilty could no longer talk their way out of it, and the two magical girls who were thought to be the culprits had been arrested and taken away… and then, en route, they had died in an accident.

Did magical girls even die by accident? If that had truly been the case, then just what kind of accident would cause them to perish? If it were the sort that would kill a magical girl, then wouldn’t it have to be a major, public deal—like that train derailment in B City?

No one had questioned it. 7753 thought that maybe such comments had not been permitted.

Princess Deluge had lost her friends in the laboratory incident. Apparently one of her classmates had been among the victims, too.

Even now, 7753 clearly remembered her own friends—those who had fought with her in B City. She could recall their faces in photographic detail. No doubt she would remember them until she died. Even if she got old and went senile and failed to recognize her family anymore, 7753 would never forget those friends.

They had put their lives on the line fighting for family, for allies, for friends, for the city, and as a result, every last girl had died. Most of them had been middle schoolers, just like Deluge.

When Deluge had first been brought to this house, she’d been like an empty shell. Her every action was robotic: eating, bathing, sleeping—her humanity had faded away.

She was in shock. Of course she was. There was no way she’d be okay after that.

But even so, 7753 wanted to tell her: “You’re alive.”

She’d tried speaking to her many times but never garnered any reaction.

“I heard you met Snow White. She took my induction course when she first became a magical girl, you know.”

No reaction.

“Now she’s a truly magnificent magical girl, but back then, she was still so cute and sweet.”

Still no reaction.

“Do you know the name of her weapon? It’s called Ruler. Apparently, it’s named after the one magical girl to ever beat her. I wonder how strong she must have been, to make Snow White lose.”

Again, no reaction.

Even when Tepsekemei poked at her, there was no reaction. Mana had tried casting a spell to stabilize her mental state, but that had no effect, either. Deluge didn’t react to anything.

Outside the window, things had finally turned into a grand old play in the mud. Mana and Tepsekemei seemed to be having fun.

Both of them could manage to laugh now. Even Mana, who’d gone crazy with rage after losing Hana, and Tepsekemei, who’d asked why it was so easy to cry. They’d all returned to their old lifestyles, including 7753, who’d once felt overcome with apathy and passivity.

It was hard to describe their present situation as anything like their “old lifestyles,” but things wouldn’t go on like this forever. They’d get their old lives back, eventually—and not just 7753, Mana, and Tepsekemei. Princess Deluge would, too.

7753 put two cups of coffee on a tray and went up the stairs.

For the past week, Mamori Totoyama had been reading the newspaper cover to cover. She’d never done something like this before. Mamori had only ever glanced at the sports or TV columns or the funnies whenever she felt like it and had not once so much as thought to look at the other articles or serializations.

Seven newspapers in total were delivered to Kanoe’s house every day, including sports and local papers. Until now, Mamori had only scoffed at Kanoe about this habit: What point was there in subscribing to so many? Kanoe couldn’t have been the only one forced into subscribing to all of these. This was nothing more than a waste of money. And so on, and so forth.

But now Mamori was the one reading all the newspapers that arrived at their doorstep.

She was surprised to see that one even serialized a novel by a famous author. She laughed at the startling foreign news, nodded along as her eyes slid over the health column, and would glance all around before she sneakily read the pink articles in the sports magazines. It was all quite fascinating.

Mamori folded up the newspaper she was done reading and tucked it back into the rack. At the same time, she leaned toward the window to look outside and noticed a girl standing in the garden—another magical girl. Mamori didn’t know her name. She had her hands laced behind her and her chest puffed out, her expression crisp. She stood straight as a board, not a hint of slouching, surely the kind of person who took her work seriously. Quite frankly, she seemed like the type Mamori could get along with.

The girl was dressed in a suit and appeared to be in her late teens.

She came across like a high school student on the precipice of graduating and trying to find employment. The girl had an incredibly beautiful face, and atop her head was a metallic decoration.

That which was a magical girl could not be anything other than a magical girl, even if she dressed like the rest of society, after all.

Mamori breathed a sigh and sat back on the sofa, then turned around to lie down.

That was not the only magical girl on the grounds—they had three shifts of four magical girls packed in there. In other words, a total of twelve magical girls were permanently stationed at the estate.

They were all supposed to be there as security in the case that Pfle was attacked again. At first, Mamori had accepted this graciously, as something to be thankful for, but now it felt unnatural, and she understood well why it did.

Kanoe and Mamori were not even able to go to school, and it had been “requested” that they live their lives in the secondary house. Mamori had thought of it as just a bit of a break, playing games and fiddling with machines to pass the time at ease, but the “request” had never indicated a time limit; in fact, it was growing longer and longer. The order to stay at home “for their safety” had been extended, and the basement of the secondary house was sealed off and they weren’t permitted to go in.

All their communication devices, including magical phones, had been confiscated under the guise of a pending investigation. As a result, they weren’t able to connect to the Internet, which meant Mamori couldn’t send e-mails to her friends or play games. The tablet she used as an electronic dictionary had also been confiscated, and since it had a communication function, they weren’t even allowed to sing karaoke. Having lost 90 percent of her hobbies, Mamori became so bored, she’d picked up the habit of reading the newspaper.

She pulled up her legs and swung them down, using the recoil to hop up. She went to the window one more time and closed the curtains, and out the corner, she looked at the magical girl guarding the entrance.

She stood with her legs shoulder width apart, feet placed firmly on the ground as she faced the secondary mansion.

That’s right, she was looking at the mansion. She did not have her back to the house. Obviously, any potential thieves would enter from the outside. Therefore, as their gate guard, she would have to be facing that way.

In other words, Mamori, and probably Kanoe as well, were being watched.

She shut the curtains tight. The sunlight, which had been filtering in through the gaps, was blocked out completely, cutting out the beams of light. The room grew even darker—but not as dark as her heart.

She knew Kanoe was a bad person, and she knew that the law cracked down on bad people. A different investigation was being carried out, under the pretext of looking into the attacker.

Mamori breathed a sigh even deeper than the one before. She was about to lie down on the sofa one more time when there was a knock on the door.

“… Come in.”

“Hey.” Kanoe entered the room carrying a big silver tray used for parties and festivals. Mamori saw it was neatly stacked with shogi, chess, cards, hanafuda, a game console from a few generations back, various board games, along with some manga and other casual reading.

“I believe one should immerse themselves in their studies at times like these, but given that you’re a contrarian, Mamori, I figured you might be lying around on the sofa. You’re bored, aren’t you? I brought these from the main mansion.” Kanoe cheerfully laid out the games on the table.

“You’ve hardly studied at all yourself, miss.”

“Effort is best left unseen.”

“Perhaps the kind of studying I’m doing is unseen.”

“Is there any part of your life that’s out of my view?”

“What’s that? A declaration you’re stalking me?”

“I simply take proper responsibility for you, as is my obligation as the master here.”

“You have an explanation for everything…”

“So what will it be, then? How about we play some cards?”

“I don’t like cards.”

“Then shall we play shogi?”

“I can’t be much of a match for you, even if we take away half your pieces as handicap.”

“Reversi?”

“If I can have the first turn.”

“It’s not the sort of game where the first turn has the advantage.”

“Doesn’t the first player have advantage?”

“If that’s fine with you.”

“Then let’s go with that.”

Kanoe set the stones down with soft clicks, then turned them over. Frankly, even if Mamori did get the first move, she was still going to lose. Regardless, playing a game of Reversi made for more of a competition in comparison to shogi.

“Well, this has been a disaster,” Kanoe commented.

“It has,” Mamori agreed.

“I wonder what the robbers were thinking, attacking the secondary mansion.”

“Bad people will think outrageous things.”

“And thanks to them, we’ve been confined here. We’ll be in trouble if they don’t at least let us go to school.”

“It’s just to be safe, isn’t it? Since around here, the Hitokoujis being attacked is such a big deal, it’s like everything’s been turned upside down.”

Kanoe flipped a stone and shrugged. “That’s a dramatic way to put it.”

“That’s how big a deal this is. You’re forbidden from leaving, miss, and we’ve even been assigned guards. And we’re also forbidden to use the basement here. Of course it’s dramatic.”

“How dreadful.”

“The world is full of dreadful things.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed it is.” Mamori happened to look outside. The guard was still stationed at her post. Mamori kept her eyes on her as she lowered her voice. “That thing on her head.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit much?”

“Oh, maybe so.”

Her metallic decoration had a large gem in it. Since the rest of her attire looked like that of a normal, everyday person, that one part stuck out hard.

“What do you think?” asked Mamori.

“All magical girls are like that.” There was a click as Kanoe played a stone. She turned over a whole bunch of the black stones at once. “Though nothing will come up, no matter how hard they look. What trouble they’ve gone to.”

“Will nothing really come up?”

“Though I’m sure it would be interesting if something did. More importantly, you haven’t got any chance of winning now, do you?”

“You don’t know that yet. If you underestimate me, you’ll get hit back hard. I can at least smack you in the snout with my wrench.”

“How frightening.”

“And not just once, either. I’ll go for two hits.”

“Frightening indeed… But the game really is over, isn’t it?”

Rain poured incessantly with no sign of stopping. She wasn’t worried the rainwater would get into this tunnel dug in the slope, but nothing would keep out the sticky, humid air, and the earth, wet with the rain, had become weak and soft. Even sitting still, she was slowly sinking in. Her wet underwear and clothing were sticking to her skin, too, making her feel uncomfortable beyond all expression.

Leaning Ruler up beside her, Snow White sat down.

A clap of thunder rang out somewhere, sending vibrations all the way into the hole. Ruler fell over into the mud, but she left it there. This rough weapon, something like a naginata crossed with a kitchen knife, wasn’t going to grow dull from a bit of muddying.

The job this time around was the same as always. Death lay close like a lover and would not leave her. Even if she tried to drive it off with kicks and punches, it would all come back around.

Snow White pulled out her magical phone and turned on the reception. Normally, she had it turned off. If she were to get a message at the wrong moment, death would attempt to embrace her with even stronger intimacy. If she was going to use it, it was best to do so in a safe place.

As Snow White went to start up the application, she noticed she’d received an e-mail from out of range. Others should have been aware that Snow White was in the middle of a job, so this had to be urgent. Snow White gulped as she checked the e-mail.

As thanks for this past matter, I’ll let you in on something.

Pfle from Magical Girl Resources was involved in this incident, as well as the one in B City.

Details are in the attached file.

The pattering of the rain continued, jamming her mind with its unending, repetitive pattering. She inhaled deeply, then out in a series of little breaths. She knew how to ease her mind. The e-mail had been sent by Ripple’s magical phone.

The incident in B City. Ripple.

“What do you think is going on?” Snow White asked Fal.

“The sender’s manner of speaking has gotten pretty frank since the last e-mail, pon.”

“That’s not what I was asking.”

“It’s fishy, pon.”

It was dubious. And just what about it was dubious? Was Ripple even alive in the first place? Or was she not? Snow White took a deep breath in, then out in a series of little ones. The damp air circulated from her lungs all around her body.

Images rose in her mind like a flashback: the soccer-loving boy, murdered like some sort of worthless piece of trash, who had sworn to protect Snow White; the girl who had been worried about Snow White up until right before she died, killed on her way to school by a slash on her back.

No. It wasn’t like that with Ripple.

She just hadn’t found Ripple yet. That was what she told herself.

Thunder rumbled again, this time closer than before.

There was no way Ripple would die. She was a strong magical girl. She wouldn’t be killed just by getting involved in some incident. Snow White sucked in a deep breath and breathed out a series of little ones.

“… Are you okay with what happened this time, pon?”

“You mean what happened in the laboratory?”

“No, pon.”

The sender of the e-mail was indicting Pfle, the head of the Magical Girl Resources Department. If she’d done something during that incident in B City, then Pfle might be someone Snow White should hunt. But was Snow White truly the Magical-Girl Hunter, now? These were the thoughts crossing her mind.

Snow White had known the hostages were being sacrificed in order to replenish Shufflin, but she hadn’t told anyone, not until the end. She’d done it to prevent Deluge and Inferno from doing something suicidal. Praying for Tempest’s safety, Inferno had died. And the one who had kept it all from her had been none other than Snow White. Knowing Akari’s feelings, knowing her wish, she had taken her hand and watched her go without ever telling her the truth.

Was she at all qualified to judge villains?

“What’s wrong, pon?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re always like that, pon.”

“… It really is nothing.”

“Then I’ll leave it at that, pon.”

Fal was trying to act particularly cheerfully. Snow White could hear that he was not truly cheerful from the heart. Fal had said that the hearts of digital fairies were nothing more than the result of their programming, but Snow White didn’t think that way. And deep in his heart, Fal had to wish not to be just a program, too.

Ah…

She heard a voice. It wasn’t her ears playing tricks. Someone was in trouble.

Weapon in hand, Snow White stood.

“Fal, enemy search.”

“Magical-girl reactions within two hundred yards: one. You’re the only one in this area, Snow White.”

Ripple wasn’t dead. There was no way she would die. But if Ripple had been captured by someone, then Snow White, the Magical-Girl Hunter, would chase that enemy to the ends of the earth and make them pay the price.

If Pfle was involved, then as soon as this job was done, Snow White would head over there.

“Is it safe for me to open this file?”

“I’ll check it, pon.”

Snow White inhaled a deep breath and blew out several small ones. She looked around the area cautiously, then finally found the owner of the thoughts she’d been hearing. The magical girl in white pulled up the lizard that was struggling in the mud by the tail and let it outside.

Within the Hitokouji estate, it would be nothing but problems. The secondary house was out of the question. And at school, Kanoe was always nearby.

When Mamori wanted to meet someone without Kanoe being involved, it was best not to choose a place—what should be selected was not that, but a time. She would figure out a span of time when a guest was visiting Kanoe. Then Kanoe wouldn’t be with Mamori. And for the guest, the more important they were, the better.

When meeting with important guests, Pfle would try to keep Shadow Gale at a distance. Now that Pfle was in a terribly sensitive situation every single one of the guests were important.

Once she’d confirmed someone was coming, after serving them some tea, Mamori transformed into a magical girl, then swiftly left the estate.

Shadow Gale sent the e-mail to quickly decide where they would be meeting, then rushed to the top of that high-rise. She’d thought she would have a little wait, but the one she was waiting for had arrived first.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yes, nice to meet you. My name is Shadow Gale.”

“I’m Snow White.” The magical girl in white lightly bowed her head without breaking eye contact. Then, a shrill, synthetic voice like a child’s rang out from the magical phone hanging from her waist.

“It’s been a long time, pon.” A black-and-white spherical hologram appeared.

Shadow Gale had seen this mascot character twice before: The first time had been when she’d been forced into a bloodbath; the second time, another bloodbath. She had her own personal feelings regarding this, but she kept them to herself and smiled. “Yes, it’s been a long time. Have you been well?”

“I don’t get sick, pon.”

Apparently, Snow White and her mascot Fal were affiliated with the Inspection Department. Shadow Gale didn’t know what sort of work they actually did.

She had gotten to know Fal through a certain incident, which meant Snow White was the one who had resolved it. Not only Shadow Gale, but also Pfle had been dragged into that incident. Though Pfle had been less “dragged into” it and had been more like a “concerned party.”

Her arms shook.

It wasn’t that the wind up on top of this high-rise was cold. It was Snow White’s gaze.

Those eyes seemed to see through everything.

Shadow Gale had been completely helpless against the magical girl Keek, but Snow White had dealt with her. And Fal, who had once been Keek’s mascot, was now serving Snow White.

It made Shadow Gale think, if this person set her eye on her, it was all over. And this was surely true not only for Shadow Gale, but also for Pfle.

Shadow Gale was careful in her every move. She acted as openly as possible, so as not to draw suspicion.

She took a blue orb from her pocket. It looked like a candy, but it was too vivid a hue to be food. Even foreign goods were never this shade of blue. “This is what I promised.” She took a step forward. Just that made her feel a trembling in her toes.

She moved two, three steps. Somehow, she moved. She got close enough to touch Snow White if she reached out, then held out the blue orb to her. “Everything Pfle had planned is recorded here.”

Snow White silently took it from her, her gaze unwavering. She was still looking at Shadow Gale. A gust of wind blew over the high-rise, causing a flyer to rush in from somewhere and be pushed against the wall of the building.

“Feel free to use it in whatever way you like.”

Wasn’t Fal going to back her up here, somehow? She hoped for as much but got nothing. Now that she thought about it, Fal had been useless as a mascot, when the time came.

Shadow Gale puffed out her chest so as not to appear overwhelmed. “I’ve acquired all of her memories. Now, I control them.”

“It’s not as if she’s been reformed, right? And she hasn’t been driven from her position, either. Won’t she just do the same thing again? Even without her memories, her fundamental nature will be no different. Even if her goals are right, she’ll ignore the sacrifices she makes to get there.”

Snow White was quite right. Not a single falsehood. Pfle would do it again and again. She would not balk at making sacrifices if she thought it was for the best. She would make goodwill her prey and not be shy about it.

When Mamori had been ordered to temporarily take those memories for safekeeping, she had thought this would be her only chance.

Pfle did not take Shadow Gale seriously. She thought of her as someone to be protected. That had been the case, even back in the game world. Since she’d never even imagined Shadow Gale would hit her, when Shadow Gale had finally done it, Pfle had wound up taking it in the snout. At the time, Shadow Gale had been in despair, thinking it was all over, but thinking back on Pfle still acting all arrogant even with her crushed nose was quite funny.

Shadow Gale would use these memories Pfle had entrusted her with. She would confiscate these memories Pfle didn’t want the inspection seeing and not give them back. She’d stolen away all the bad deeds Pfle had done so far and those bad deeds she would do in the future.

She was prepared for this. She was going to force someone past the point of no return to return. Normally, she would have had to make this decision once Pfle had killed a hundred magical girls. This was something only Shadow Gale could do.

Shadow Gale felt a knot tighten in her stomach. “I won’t let her.”

“A verbal promise is meaningless.”

“If something happens, please kill me.”

Fal’s image faltered, and Snow White furrowed her brow.

“If I die, then everything Pfle has been trying to do will become meaningless. If you do that, she’ll stop. Please make me your emergency stop switch.”

Mamori. Her own name.

Thinking back on what her parents had told her they’d named her for, she bowed her head. “Please.”

Snow White said nothing as she looked at Shadow Gale. Fal was the same.

Shadow Gale gave another small bow, then turned her back to Snow White and started running. She had to get home soon, or the miss would complain.

Frederica would not collect the hair of a dead magical girl. Not for the pragmatic reason that she could no longer use it for her magic, but for more emotional reasons. She had always thrown the hair of deceased magical girls in the trash.

A magical girl, and the hair of a magical girl, had a story. And with that girl’s death, that story came to a close. Holding on to that hair any longer would only be redundant.

Even with the hair of Cranberry, Musician of the Forest—something Frederica had treasured so much—after spending a long time agonizing about it after her death, she ended up tossing it in the garbage.

So then would she be able to throw away this hair? She had the feeling she could not. Even without that story, she had been able to love this hair. It had stolen her heart. The owner of these strands had been divinely blessed. It wasn’t as if Frederica wanted to make feeble jokes about it. Any other magical girl’s locks were less than ordinary in comparison.

Frederica twisted the hair around her fingertip. Even after Prism Cherry’s death, its beauty had not declined. It sparkled, and depending on the angle, it would move her in new ways. Despite how she’d been gazing at it long enough to give herself eye strain, she still found new joy in it.

This girl, who’d had no story, had acquired one. Frederica had not stopped her—because she had wanted to see the story Prism Cherry would weave through to its end.

Frederica had saved Prism Cherry without a thought, when she had been about to be killed by the Joker, and then had nursed her at the inn. Though Frederica’s motif was supposed to be that of a fortune-teller, lately, she’d been doing nothing but playing doctor.

Fortunately, the injury caused by the Joker’s scythe had not been fatal, and Frederica had been able to heal her quickly, with the use of magic liquid medicine. Magical girls had strong recovery abilities. While Prism Cherry had been grateful for having been saved, once she was able to get up, she’d insisted that she wanted to return to the lab.

Frederica should not have put her back. There would have been any other number of more effective ways to save her friends. Frederica herself could have spread around what had been going on in the lab, and if she’d so desired, she could have saved all the magical girls in there.

But she had not. She had not told Prism Cherry there was a better way.

Because she’d wanted to see Prism Cherry’s story, the one where she was trembling in fear but nevertheless stifled her terror to try to stand up for her friends’ sake.

Fortunately, Frederica had fulfilled the task Pfle had assigned to her.

There were no more promises to bind her. Frederica had sent off Prism Cherry, and she’d fought, and Frederica had watched the whole thing until her death. Her hair, which had been beautiful even without a story, now sparkled with even greater beauty.

She did feel desolate. But Frederica knew that was part of the story, too.

Footsteps sounding on the concrete floor, she walked up to the windowsill.

She slid her fingertips over the blinds and looked outside.

Four inches ahead was the sooty walk of the building next door. She could see nothing else. Was this legal, building code–wise? The inn had had quite the view, too, but an inn was still an inn, and Frederica had felt their desire to make guests welcome. Spending time there had been pleasant.

This hideout, which she’d returned to for the first time in a long while, was as dark and dank as ever in spite of the sunny weather. Considering Frederica’s desolate state of mind, perhaps the environment felt right.

“What do you think?” Frederica asked.

“About what?”

“About this hideout.”

“I think it’s wonderful.”

“Thank you for that delightful opinion.”

Ripple, who was sitting on the sofa, nodded. She was in her usual ninja-style costume, missing one eye and one arm.

“Your original costume does suit you, after all,” said Frederica.

“My original one?”

“Oh, that’s right. I’ve been tweaking my suggestions for you here and there, so you must have forgotten.”

“Did something happen?”

“Oh, nothing much. I just had you wear a different outfit for a bit and lent you my left arm.”

“That sounds fun.”

“Yes, it was quite fun. After all, you know, a jester must be fun, I think. I have no interest in sad jesters.” Frederica pulled her magical phone from her pocket and looked at her in-box tray.

Amy and Monako had already set into action. She’d already brought over the first generation. So then the third generation would be in her camp, too. Her other options seemed to be reacting well, too.

At this rate, it seems things will work out, somehow.

Just how much growth had this affair brought about in Snow White? Since Frederica had gone to the trouble to send her that e-mail to bring her in, she would be glad to hear Snow White gained something from it.

By driving Snow White to collide with Pfle, Frederica had meant to guide Snow White to even greater heights. Frederica could sympathize with some of Pfle’s ideas, but she was far from being Frederica’s ideal magical girl. Hence, she had thought to use her as fodder for Snow White’s growth, instead… but since Shadow Gale had gotten the jump on her, she had failed. Well, Snow White had probably experienced a change of awareness, and Pfle had been properly eliminated. It had all worked out fine in the end.

Had Pfle truly misjudged Shadow Gale? Might Pfle have anticipated what Shadow Gale would do, and acted as such? Such thoughts crossed Frederica’s mind, but she shook her head, figuring there was no use pondering it.

Regardless, these people already belonged to the past. The present should be decided by those who belonged to the present.

What did Snow White think of that e-mail from Ripple? It had to be on her mind. Maybe she was so worried, she couldn’t focus on her work. It’d be a shame if that e-mail ended up hurting the Magical-Girl Hunter’s reputation, Frederica thought. “Oh, well. I’m sure you’ll get things done properly one way or another.”

“Yes, I will,” replied Ripple.

“Good, please do. I have high hopes for you, after all.”

Ripple beamed as Frederica stroked her head.