The Cheerleader Without a Cheer
Yui's liveliness seemed to raise the temperature inside the café by a full degree.
Sweat beaded along the pale nape of Hiyori's neck, and I watched her expression shift, little by little, toward the red of a system screaming overload.
"Yui. Hiyori's getting hot, so give her a little space. In exchange... I'll make you something delicious."
The words had barely left my mouth before Yui spun toward the counter.
"For real?! Mister, you just said something tasty, right? If it's sweet and fluffy, Yui likes anything!"
Her eyes sparkled like jewels. All that passion from a moment ago—the magic wand this, the Aberrations that—had already vanished from her mind. Chin propped on the counter, she looked up at me the way a puppy looks up while it wags its tail.
Hiyori, newly freed, smoothed her rumpled clothes and let out a long breath.
"Haa... I might actually live. This kid isn't running on magic. She's got a boiler strapped on."
She grumbled, but she cooled her flushed cheeks with the back of her hand and looked away. Her mouth said it was a nuisance, yet the warmth left by the commotion lingered in her eyes, faint as anything.
"Mmm, sorry, Hiyori! But when something tasty's on the line, even a party leader has to yield!"
Yui tapped the counter lightly with her palm, hurrying me along.
"So what's the menu, Mister? Cherry blossoms? Strawberries? Or chocolate?"
I opened the refrigerator, and a cool draft spilled out. When I set a clear glass on the counter, Yui's gaze chased my fingertips, busy and bright. Her cheeks, swollen with anticipation, had gone a soft pink.
"Something that suits the spring."
One look at Yui, all fizz and bounce, and I already knew what she ought to have. First I took a chilled bottle of sparkling water from the fridge.
Pssh!
The cap came off with a bright snap, and the water poured into the glass. Clear bubbles raced up the walls and burst into bloom. Over that I slowly poured a deep crimson strawberry syrup. The once-transparent liquid blushed pink from the bottom up, like cherry blossoms that had slept all winter opening every bud at once. Last of all, I crowned it with a generous scoop of round, snowy vanilla ice cream.
"Here you go. A pink cream soda, the same color as Yui."
"Hehehe! It's so pretty Yui almost doesn't want to eat it! But Yui's gonna taste a grown-up flavor... no! No! The flavor of spring!"
She lifted her spoon with care, took just the tip of the ice cream, and slipped it into her mouth. The moment she held a sip of cream soda and wore the face of someone who owned the world, Hiyori's gaze rested on the glass for the briefest instant—truly the briefest—then scattered into empty air.
"Well... visual score's a pass. That's a balance-breaking item."
Hiyori's voice was stern, but the tips of her ears had gone faintly red, and her fingers fidgeted along the rim of the glass.
"Yui, don't eat the whole thing yourself. Leave a little. As party leader, I have to inspect it."
"I'll make our party leader something she can inspect, too."
Next to bubbly Yui, Hiyori was just a touch more grown-up, and a drink for her was easy enough to invent. I took a fresh glass, carefully filled it with ice, and poured in sparkling water. Instead of red strawberry syrup, I let a blue curaçao the color of deep ocean trickle down. Blue spread through the clear liquid until the glass held a shade that looked as if I had poured Hiyori's hair into it. I set a scoop of snowy vanilla ice cream on top, and for the last detail—something to match the color of her eyes—I dusted it with a scatter of blue-tinged popping candy.
"I made it with a little snap. Eat up, Party Leader, and give it your all at the Exchange Tournament."
The hand that took the glass trembled, just barely. She accepted it as if she didn't care, but her eyes were already locked on the candy dust leaping over the ice cream.
"The item model is... way too high quality. This is against the rules."
She muttered it under her breath and lifted her spoon. The instant it entered her mouth, the crackle of bursting candy carried, small, past the counter.
Pop, pop!
"Whoa! Hiyori's mouth is making noises! Mister, mine didn't do that! No fair!"
Yui leaned in close to Hiyori's face, pure envy. Hiyori flushed and tried to push her off, but the popping candy kept bursting in her mouth, and all she could manage was a mumble.
"Inspection result... balance-collapse tier. Bad enough I'd have to report it to the admins... is what I'll say."
She left a score that still refused to be honest, but her spoon never stopped exploring the glass.
Above the counter, where the pink cream soda and the blue one sat side by side, the peaceful afternoon sun shattered into fine pieces, like popping candy. The last sliver of ice at the bottom of a glass clicked softly against what remained of the soda.
Yui licked a dab of white ice-cream foam from the corner of her mouth with the tip of her tongue. Hiyori closed her eyes for a moment, as if savoring the faint after-bursts still going off inside her mouth, then opened them again.
The two magical girls, having emptied their cream sodas down to the last sweet drop, rose from their chairs at the same time.
"Ahh, that was so good! Thanks to you, Mister, Yui's gonna sweep the whole Exchange Tournament!"
Yui stretched, laughing bright, and her pink twin-tails swung once, wide, in time with the stretch.
Hiyori, following behind, headed for the door as bluntly as she had come in.
"Later. Keep the broadcast on during the Exchange Tournament."
She left a gamer's parting order to the very end and stepped over the threshold. But once she was outside, the girl who had left the café with a cold face changed, just a little. Yui had gone out first and was waiting. Hiyori lifted a hand in a small wave, then hurried her steps. For someone who had called herself a solo player, the back she turned was surprisingly gentle.
The curtain was about to rise on the great Exchange Tournament, where magical girls collide. Yui and Hiyori, who only minutes ago had been hanging off the counter spooning up sweet cream soda, would stand before countless camera lenses and the eyes of a crowd, weapons in hand, showing the world their finest selves.
I reached across the counter and gathered the empty glasses the two of them had left behind. A cool film of water still clung to the glass where the ice had thinned and melted. I set the glasses in the sink and turned the tap. A clear stream washed the last traces of syrup from the bottoms and was quietly drawn down the drain.
Thick afternoon sun climbed over the window and laid long shadows slantwise across the wooden tables.
At last the day of the Exchange Tournament arrived—the day my customers had talked about until their mouths went dry.
On an ordinary day the sanctuary would have been filled with the quiet air of a lazy jazz melody, but today was an exception. At Yui and Hiyori's earnest request, the speakers poured out not gentle music but the blare of the live broadcast. Amid the roar that filled the room, magical girls whose names I was hearing for the first time gave interviews under dazzling spotlights.
Watching them lay out, in brilliant graphics, the exploits of the rookies who had leapt into the world of magical girls for the first time this year left me with a strange feeling. How to put it... it didn't feel like the deeds of magical warriors fighting Aberrations. It felt like a massive idol concert.
Just as the broadcast began, little by little, to talk about the main event itself, and the mood was heating up, the café door flew open.
The person who came in wore an expression that did not belong, even a little, to the festival spilling from the speakers. Her face was knotted tight, as if she carried every misfortune in the world—the look of someone who truly, deeply disliked a noisy affair like this tournament.
And what seized my gaze more than anything was her outfit. It was a costume I could not, for the life of me, imagine on a magical girl who fought Aberrations: an off-the-shoulder top that left the line of her shoulders bare, and a cheerleader uniform whose miniskirt looked shorter than a handspan. Worse, her figure was far too curved for those frail scraps of cloth to bear, so the clothes seemed ready to burst at any moment.
Ashamed of even that, she came in hugging her chest tight with both arms, searching out a corner seat. Her face had gone as red as a ripe tomato.
The café was still full of the noisy broadcast. On the screen, magical girls in splendid dresses winked and sang of peace, but the reality standing in front of me was closer to a tragedy than to anything peaceful.
"A witches'... gathering...?"
I had seen plenty of magical girls, but never one dressed this boldly, and I was flustered too. She was covering herself because her clothes and her body embarrassed her beyond words, yet she couldn't even decide what to hide, and her fingers kept fidgeting—like a college freshman reluctantly put in a dress and made to stand before the upperclassmen.
"Would you... like a drink? The rule is coffee and snacks only during the day, but... you really look like you need one."
At my offer, her head rose, very slowly.
"...Huh?"
She stared straight at me. She was still hugging her chest tight with both arms, but her lips trembled, as if she had understood what a drink meant. She scanned the inside of the café, checking that no one else was around—or that no camera was hidden somewhere.
On the broadcast, just then, her profile photo in the cheerleader uniform swept past in a blaze of graphics, introduced as this year's prospect. She shook her head hard, as if she didn't even want to hear it.
"At... at this hour... you're really going to give me alcohol?"
Her voice was low and rough, but a strange desperation clung to the end of it. What she needed now wasn't a fragrant espresso. It was hard alcohol—something that could blur this humiliating reality, if only for a little while.