The Heart-Pounding Roommate Selection
Perhaps because it was our first day, there were no actual classes. After a brief introduction from the teacher, the children launched into introducing themselves one by one. A few of them made memorable introductions, but my mind was too busy circling the reality of what I'd become to pay much attention.
“Alright, let's have our next student introduce herself, shall we?”
At the teacher's call, I scraped my chair back and stood. A few of the kids shot jealous glares at the girl sitting next to Mika, but I couldn't have cared less.
“I'm Serena Silphiel.”
“Um... is that it?”
“Yes.”
With my short and brutish introduction complete, I plopped back down into my seat. The teacher, who looked like she could have passed for a high schooler, seemed a little flustered, and guided things along to the next presenter with an awkward smile.
In truth, the woman was eighteen — a new hire at the academy and a high school girl herself. Most magical girls retire once they reach high school age, but those with exceptional skill or a deep grasp of theory were sometimes pulled back in to serve as teachers.
She must have been an elite magical girl herself, I'd guess.
Even so, an elite girl teaching eight-year-olds struck me as a bit of a mismatch. She had a certain endearing, scatterbrained charm about her — a far cry from the instruction of a proper professional.
Once every child had finished, the teacher gave us a brief rundown of what lay ahead.
“For one week, we're going to study and practice working with mana. Using mana is the first stepping stone on the path to becoming a magical girl, and raising your mana capacity is our goal.”
The most elementary of first steps. I'd already spent the past year training, studying, and developing my mana — but since I'd had no way to skip the basic curriculum, I'd have to sit through it as a refresher.
“Once you can all control your mana at a basic level, you'll each be able to summon your own mascot. We teachers will draw the summoning circles for you, so don't worry about that part — just focus on practicing your mana, okay?”
“Teacher! Do Unique Magic abilities appear after that?”
“Wonderful question. That's right — your mascot will grant each of you your Unique Magic. So until then, let's study hard and do our best to earn a good mascot!”
“Yes, teacher~”
“Now, let's take a ten-minute break. Play nicely, everyone~”
It was hard to tell whether she was guarding the children's innocence or simply forgot to mention it, but the way she glossed over the details about mascots was clearly meant to encourage everyone to earn a good mascot without sparking needless rivalry between them. After all, a poor mascot meant a poor Unique Magic to go with it.
That was why the teacher said nothing about what kinds of mascots existed, and nothing about their grades, either. I could understand the logic. Between the way the children had already been sorting each other by the color of their Magic Stones, jockeying for popularity at this very moment — if she announced mascot grades on top of that, kids would start getting cast out one by one.
A teacher preempting the birth of outcasts. Rules enforcing equality inside an academy that was, at its heart, a rigid hierarchy. It was contradictory — but with every single magical girl treasured as precious these days, perhaps it was a necessary evil.
Of course, there was one person acting in flagrant violation of that spirit.
“Hohoho, you commoners. No matter what you do, none of you will end up with a better mascot than me, you know? I inherited my mother's mana — obviously I'll be the strongest!”
Loud-mouthed Liria was in Class A too. Having apparently forgotten that she'd been unconscious until moments ago, she was already running her mouth at full volume.
“Having a good mascot isn't connected to how much mana you have!”
One of the girls, evidently stung by Liria's words, snapped back at her.
“Are you stupid? Of course they're connected — why wouldn't they be? Why do you think the teacher told us to practice our mana? It's because all of it is connected, obviously!”
“Grrh... what would you know!”
“I know plenty. My mom was a magical girl! She told me — mascots come out at higher grades in proportion to your mana capacity!”
Oh no, teacher. All the secrets you worked so hard to keep are already leaking out. Well, everyone would learn the truth once the mascots actually appeared anyway — but if it was going to unravel like this from day one...
“I'm going to get a better mascot than you!”
“Wake up~ where does a Yellow get off acting so high and mighty?”
“The teacher said so! She said practicing mana will change things!”
“I'm not going to practice and just laze around? See, that's why you commoners are all such idiots.”
“I'm not a commoner! I'm not!”
And just like that, it's about to turn into an actual fight.
The girl Liria had needled now had tears welling up at the corners of her eyes before anyone noticed. At this age, of course children can't hold their emotions in check — and Liria's talent for mockery was genuinely top-tier. Even I, calm and levelheaded by nature, had felt irritation curdle into full-blown annoyance whenever she got under my skin.
“Guys, don't fight.”
Unable to watch any longer, Mika stepped in to mediate. How could anyone have such a kind heart? The protagonist of this world, through and through. Being the center of every situation — maybe that was simply what she was made for.
“Hmph, don't get cocky just because you're a Violet. In a week I'll have more mana than you anyway.”
“That's not what I meant...”
“I said don't get cocky!”
“I think you're amazing. Really impressive.”
At Mika's single sentence, Liria's ceaselessly flapping mouth snapped shut. A compliment, delivered straight out of nowhere. Liria's cheeks flushed red, and she began to stammer.
“Wh-what's that supposed to mean!”
“It's true. You know things the rest of us don't, and your mana came out high too.”
For all her vicious words, Liria was, in the end, an ordinary elementary schooler. The way her lips kept twitching at the corners said it all — the girl ranked above her had just called her, a lowly Yellow, amazing. She couldn't help but feel good about it.
“Could you explain it to us in more detail?”
“Ahem! Fine! Lady Liria shall deign to share her advanced intel — the secrets us commoners could never hope to learn!”
You're so simple, Liria. How did she expect to survive in this brutal world on nothing but candy-coated flattery? Well — in the original story she ate well and lived well, just like in the anime, so perhaps there was nothing to worry about.
“Listen up! I'm only explaining this once!”
With a confident expression, Liria marched up to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk.
“Mascots, like I said before, are connected to your mana capacity.”
Standing before the class, Liria poured out everything she knew and conducted her lesson with real passion. Huh. At this rate, she could actually be a teacher.
The children listened with fascination written across their faces. Since I already knew all of it, I just stared vacantly through the whole thing — though even Mika, seated beside me, followed Liria's lecture intently with bright, sparkling eyes.
“Your mascot's grade is decided by your mana capacity. There are four grades in total: insect-type, animal-type, fairy-type, and divine beast-type.”
“So insects are the lowest grade?”
“Right! For a commoner, your comprehension is pretty decent?”
“Hehe...”
Hey, that's not a compliment. Don't be happy about it.
“Each mascot grants a Unique Magic suited to its owner's individuality, and the higher the grade, the better the magic it grants, right? That's why summoning a good mascot is so important.”
Having finished her explanation, Liria returned to her seat — shoulders squared even prouder than before. Maybe it was thanks to her little lecture, but some of the kids who'd found her nothing but insufferable were now starting to show interest in her, much the way they had with Mika.
I should keep a low profile. A very low profile.
I hated nothing more than a hassle. My whole life had been one of moving alone, and I possessed absolutely zero aptitude for babysitting elementary school children.
So there I was, yawning my way into a sprawl across my desk, when Mika began staring holes into me. The weight of her gaze was positively scorching, but I did my best to ignore it.
Needless to say, that did nothing against the irrepressibly innocent Mika.
“Serena, what kind of mascot do you want?”
“Any of them.”
“Huh? What do you mean, any of them? If we're going to be splendid magical girls, we have to get high-grade mascots!”
“Mmm...”
It doesn't matter anyway — I already know exactly which mascot you'll get and what magic you'll use. Same goes for me, for that matter. I knew everything, and yet somehow, that knowledge left me uneasy.
The story has already twisted off course twice... surely not a third time.
“I'd love a fairy-grade mascot. A fairy! Wouldn't that be just the cutest thing?”
“It suits you.”
“Right, right? I'm going to practice my mana like crazy and earn the best mascot ever!”
“Good luck...”
Was Mika always this chatty? She seemed delighted just to talk with me, peppering me with question after question, and I answered each one in flat, monosyllabic fashion.
“Were you all resting nicely, everyone?”
“Yes~”
“That's all for today's lesson. Now, it's time for each of you to choose your roommate.”
“Can we room with whoever we want?”
“I want to room with Mika!”
“Me and Liria!”
“No, I'm rooming with Mika!”
The announcement set the children ablaze, and in an instant the room transformed from a quiet classroom into a rowdy marketplace. The teacher rapped her hand against a desk a couple of times to bring them back down, and the children — startled by the commotion — clamped their chattering mouths shut.
“Now, roommates will be assigned at random. To keep things fair, we'll draw lots for your room numbers. If anyone secretly swaps their lot or gets caught cheating, the punishment will be severe — so let's all be honest, understood?”
“Yes!”
Roommates. Honestly, I wasn't entirely indifferent to it. This would be someone I'd be living alongside for the foreseeable future, so I did hope it would be a good kid. Though by my standards, a good kid meant one who wouldn't bother me and wouldn't dump any unwanted attention on me.
“Come up one at a time and draw your lots~”
Once every lot had been drawn, the children scattered in every direction, hunting for their assigned partners. The slip of paper in my hand read Room 104, scrawled in flowing black cursive.
“U-um... excuse me... is that Room 104...?”
I looked up with an unenthusiastic expression to find a small, rather neatly put-together girl standing in front of me, fidgeting nervously.
“Yeah, that's right.”
“I'm Room 104 too...! Nice... to meet you...”
The girl — short, spring-green hair in a cropped bob — timidly extended her hand toward me, offering a handshake. Even as she did it, her hand trembled violently; from the looks of it, this had taken a truly heroic act of courage.
I took the girl's hand gently in mine.
“Looking forward to it.”