A Save Point on an Unfamiliar Map
"All right. Then you head back too, Hina. The counter's a space for the barista and the bartender."
At that, Hina—plastered to my shoulder until a second ago—gave a little squirm. She had just been firing a triumphant look at Miru, and already her lips were jutting out in a pout. The arm looped around mine tightened, just slightly.
"Aww, come on... You're seriously heartless~ I wanna stick right to your side like a wad of gum, Oppa~"
The grumble was soaked through with aegyo, far more than any real resentment. The promise of lunch together must have hit hard. Reluctant to peel away, she rubbed her cheek against my forearm one last time, then finally let go and slipped out from behind the counter. A lavishly manicured nail came up, pointed straight at Miru.
"You saw that, right, Miru? Oppa's a cool grown-up who keeps work and private life completely separate! And Hina's a good girl who listens, so I'll wait nice and quietly."
She thrust her chest out, proud of herself. Across the table, the face of Miru—still working her fork—crumpled.
"Ugh... Would you quit it with the Oppa already...!"
Miru set her fork down on the empty plate with a clack. For all the delinquent look, that plate—cleaned out down to the last of the sweet chocolate sauce—gave her real appetite away. Her eyes pinned Hina with pure exasperation, but the wire-tight tension that had been aimed at the pistol on her hip had already evaporated without a trace.
"Just get over here and sit down. Weren't you gonna wait nicely till that ajusshi puts lunch on the table?"
"Who are you calling ajusshi?! I said he's a cool oppa!"
"Shut up. If you're gonna yell, go yell over there."
At Miru's blunt scolding, Hina snorted, pulled out the chair opposite her, and dropped into it. The murderous air that had hung over the café—thick enough, a moment ago, that a gunfight might break out any second—scattered like a thin haze of dust. Over the two magical girls' sharp little bickering across the table, the last of the steam sighed quietly out of the espresso machine.
In that calm, as if ordinary peace had found its way back, I suddenly remembered the first instant Miru had kicked the café door open and stormed in.
"By the way... didn't you say you came because Hina was ignoring your texts?"
The offhand remark froze the air inside the sanctuary cold. Her eyes, which had been staring blankly into empty space, wavered—then flew wide, as if lightning had struck her. Lost in the sweet chocolate crepe, the bitter espresso, and the argument with Hina, she had forgotten her original purpose entirely.
"Right...! Hey, Hina!"
Miru's hand flashed to her hip. A pistol throwing off a silver gleam cleared leather in a single motion and leveled dead-on at Hina's head.
"You blew off this morning's schedule and ran, didn't you?! The Exchange Tournament's right around the corner—are you in your right mind?! I only just remembered why I've been out looking for you!"
"Kyaaaaa! M-Miru! Wait, wait! The gun, put the gun away!"
With the cold muzzle shoved in her face, Hina flailed both hands in a panic.
"No! Hina promised she'd have lunch alone with Oppa! Just a little—I'll go the second I'm done eating, I swear!"
"Shut up! A magical girl, playing hooky?! Get out here right now!"
Miru didn't lower the gun. She seized Hina by the scruff of the neck.
"Aaaah! Oppaaa! Oppaaaa! Save meee! My moonlight dateee!"
Hina thrashed and stretched a desperate hand toward the counter, but Miru's grip showed no mercy. Baseball jacket and all, the delinquent magical girl strode for the door—pistol in one hand, the gothic-lolita magical girl's nape dragged along in the other.
"Quit whining and walk. If we're late, the old lady's actually gonna kill us!"
"Nooooo! My heart latte! My lunch! Oppaaaa~!"
Crash, clatter—screech, bang!
With Hina's wretched shriek, the sanctuary door flew open and slammed shut. The space the two magical girls had torn through like a storm fell silent in an instant, as if none of it had ever happened. Only the gentle jazz drifting from the speakers quietly filled the empty café, pretending the whole affair had never occurred.
"Haha... They really do get along..."
I managed a wry smile, gathered the plates and glasses they'd left behind, and stood at the sink. The tap went on. The moment the sponge met the bowl Miru had eaten from, the brown chocolate stains rinsed away in a rush of suds, and watching even the last smear of sauce vanish from the plate brought back the sight of her working through that crepe. A small laugh escaped me.
Next was the heart latte Hina hadn't managed to finish. The pale pink foam still clinging inside the glass mixed into the stream and was sucked down the drain. The noisy traces left by a delinquent magical girl and a gothic-lolita magical girl quietly erased themselves into the sink.
I set the cleaned glasses and plates upside down on the drying rack, and I was wiping the water from my hands with a dry towel when a short buzz hummed from my apron pocket.
Bzzzt. Bzzzt.
I pulled out my phone. A familiar name had risen onto the screen.
Through the screen I could picture her all too clearly—Senior Shinano collapsed over her desk, ears and tail drooping in exhaustion. I smiled faintly and opened the camera. The lens found the spring snacks I'd made early that morning, arranged prettily along the counter: pale pink cookies topped with salt-pickled cherry blossom petals, pink cream buns packed full of soft strawberry cream, and a fruit shortcake with bright red strawberries layered over the fresh cream. I framed them nicely, pressed the shutter, and attached the photo to the thread before sending it off.
The reply arrived in under a minute. The exclamation point hooked onto the end of that last line carried her feelings intact. Even on the verge of dying under a paperwork avalanche, sugar still had to be replenished—priorities worthy of our great feline senior. With the Exchange Tournament's grand stage looming and everyone else in the world rushing without a moment to breathe, a little of that festive cheer was seeping, bit by bit, into the small sanctuary in the woods as well.
I started packing the snacks for Shinano. Into a thin, rustling paper bag I carefully wrapped the cookies crowned with cherry blossom petals, and I settled the freshly baked pink cream buns into a box with equal care so they wouldn't get squashed. Today, I thought, I'd give her a cool iced tea instead of coffee—and I had just opened the cupboard where the dried tea leaves were kept when I felt the shop door open quietly behind me.
"Welcome. This is the Witches' Gathering."
I turned as I said it, and found a magical girl who looked profoundly taciturn, the sort who wouldn't waste a word if she could help it. Neatly tied-up blue hair swayed lightly with her steps. Over a sporty black tank top she'd thrown a loose white jacket, and with easy pants beneath, she looked light enough to launch herself into a sprint at any moment. Indifferent blue eyes made a slow, thorough pass over the sanctuary, then flicked to me where I stood behind the counter—and, ever so slightly, toward the sweet smell of cookies and cream buns lingering at the tip of her nose.
Her face showed nothing you could call an emotion. She didn't offer a light hello, and she didn't make a fuss. She simply stopped where she was and stared at me, as if waiting in silence for whatever I would do next. Between the warm smell of bread fresh from the oven and the gentle jazz drifting from the speakers, a calm, cool silence peculiar to her quietly filled the air of the shop.
"Uh... it's a little messy, isn't it...?"
I scratched my head, eyeing the broken bar table. For a sanctuary that was supposed to feel peaceful, it was a pretty violent first impression. At my half-excuse, she let out a small sigh.
"You can skip the detailed explanation. I've already got a rough read on the situation."
She walked slowly over to the ruined table, brushed the split grain with her fingertips, and spoke in a voice that had already given up.
"I didn't think a party member would go around breaking the furniture. Seriously... that's just mannerless play."
She pulled a smartphone from her pocket and tapped the screen. A message window opened, long and dense enough that you'd have to scroll for a good while to reach the bottom. Half-hiding the display, she clicked her tongue in disbelief.
"The alarm's been going off nonstop since this morning. Bewitched by a poison with an obscene name, she smashed a sacred altar, so now she has to face an inquisition for heresy immediately and atone for all eternity, or something like that..."
She tucked the phone away again and looked me straight in the eye.
"Suzuki Hiyori. I'm on the same team as Sister Maria, and since I'm the party leader, I'll take responsibility for this incident and compensate you."
The words spilling from that ice-cold mouth were the sort a pro gamer, or a game character, would use, and I stopped what I was doing. Neat, chilly eyes. A posture held perfectly straight. Anyone looking would have seen a cold stickler for principle—and yet every line she'd just spoken belonged in a virtual world. Listening to a party leader wound tight with responsibility, I found myself wanting, somehow, to ease a little of the strength locked into her shoulders.
"Uh... don't worry about it. If I tell Shinano, she'll take care of it. And... this is an official sanctuary, so it doesn't cost anything."
The instant the words left me, Hiyori's lips parted by the barest fraction. It was the face of a player whose meticulously calculated build had been completely scrambled by an unexpected gimmick. She looked off into empty air and cleared her throat. She seemed to be fighting to keep her composure, but she couldn't quite hide the faint red rising in her cheeks.
"Handled on Senior Shinano's end... no, wait. You're saying the safe-zone upkeep is zero gold to begin with...?"
She muttered it as if she couldn't believe it, then glanced my way again. Her eyes worked busily, as though she were trying, somehow, to translate the present situation into the terms of her own worldview.
"I didn't realize the admin was managing it directly. Well, if there's no repair bill, that's great for me—saves the party budget—but..."
Hiyori fidgeted with the hand she'd stuffed in her pocket and dropped her gaze to the counter. The cookies I'd packed, and the pink cream buns, were sitting right there.
"Still, I'm the party leader, in name at least. Just taking a one-sided benefit and walking away feels a little gross. I'm not some scummy NPC who wipes their mouth and leaves without handing over a quest reward. So..."
Her eyes settled on the boxed snacks and quietly stopped there.