Chapter 2: Private Life (4)
“...”
The atmosphere had turned deadly serious.
And the reason was me.
Well—no, I mean, even setting aside the fact that I was a combatant for that company... no, wait, since that was ultimately the cause anyway, maybe there was no real need to 'set it aside' at all.
Anyway, that was the thing. Ever since I'd come out of the bathroom, I had been deathly pale.
There was something I'd been badly mistaken about all this time: it turned out I valued my relationships with people far more than I'd ever realized.
I'd had almost no friends at school, and at work I tended to brush people off whenever they tried to chat. Naturally, the number of people willing to approach me first had dwindled accordingly.
At most, there was Jigupa, who took a strange interest in me; Jihye, who shared my room; and Hayun, my childhood friend.
...Jigupa was one thing, but Jihye and Hayun weren't exactly fond of malicious organizations like Noir Corporation.
“Jieun, calm down.”
Jihye said, patting my arm.
“It'll probably be fine. Stalker or not, she's still a journalist.”
Jihye, convinced this was the sort of thing that frightened me, did her best to comfort me.
“Yeah. You've got nothing to worry about, Jieun.”
Hayun said brightly.
It was a face worthy of 'Blossom'—though she was still wearing those lensless glasses and a hat.
“I'll take care of it. For good.”
“...”
I hesitated for a moment, then spoke up.
“Hayun.”
“Yeah?”
“Could we maybe... just pretend we don't know anything and walk on past today?”
It had taken considerable effort on my part to force those words out.
Yes, I knew it was a hard thing to say to her. She was the victim here, after all.
But still, there shouldn't be any truly damning photos yet. Even Noir Corporation wouldn't sneak into a bathroom to plant hidden cameras—and if they had lunatics willing to go that far, they'd have done it much sooner.
They were just... trying to distort the facts, weren't they?
If the Galaxy Federation took the matter seriously, they'd resolve it in no time. It wasn't the truth to begin with.
But at my words, Hayun just blinked at me, wide-eyed.
“...Right. I suppose you're right.”
She closed her eyes and let out a small breath.
“If I stepped in now, it could put you or Jihye in danger. They might try to retaliate.”
“...”
Uh...
No, that's not what I meant.
In a sense, 'retaliation' was technically the right read—but that was not what I'd been getting at.
Not that the orphanage wasn't running smoothly thanks to Noir Corporation's donations. The kids had decent enough clothes that they never looked shabby outside, they could eat what they wanted more or less freely, and the facilities got replaced regularly before they wore out—all of it thanks to Noir Corporation.
...
Oh. This was helping them out way more than I'd realized.
Running on government subsidies alone, there was no way they could manage any of this.
“But don't you worry.”
Hayun said, thumping her chest.
“Protecting citizens from threats like that is exactly what we magical girls are for.”
“...”
How to put this.
Weren't we basically a semi-illegal organization the state simply chose not to crack down on openly?
Noir Corporation was hardly spotless, but confined strictly to 'the law,' the Galaxy Federation was arguably the more unlawful party.
They were essentially just being granted something like 'diplomatic immunity.'
“I know.”
Somehow she read the subtle shift in my expression, because Hayun went on with a serious look.
“We can't save everyone. There are probably far more people we can't reach than the ones our activities actually save.”
Not that we didn't faithfully show up wherever the Company deployed its contractors and throw a wrench in the works.
“But... we do make a difference. Kaijin activity has dropped dramatically since we started.”
That... was true.
The firepower of a Hope Circuit was beyond imagination.
They said you 'wouldn't die,' but one hit landed you in the hospital—and above all, it hurt like hell.
Noir Corporation only got a pass because it fell under the 'technically legal' category; anyone caught committing genuinely illegal acts got no such mercy. Alien criminals in particular were mercilessly pummeled before being handed over to the Galaxy Federation.
“...”
Could that happen to me too?
Hayun? To me?
Her hand came to rest on my shoulder.
“So don't worry too much. My friends—I'll protect them, no matter what.”
“Uh—yeah.”
And I nodded.
What else could I do?
Was I supposed to confess my involvement now, of all times?
No. No way. That was a bridge too far.
Just as I was sinking into my own private anguish, Hayun pulled a small gadget out of her bag.
Beep.
“What's that?”
“Oh, this? It's a pager.”
When I asked, watching her press the little device that looked like a vibrating bell, she kindly explained.
“Pulling out a smartphone to talk everything through would be a hassle, right? Press it like this, and it alerts the others.”
“Ooh.”
Jihye's eyes sparkled.
“So that means all five of you are coming here?”
“Well... not all to one 'place,' no.”
“Then what?”
Hayun answered my question.
“Everyone has their own style.”
Ah. Fair point.
Nobody knew that better than I did—I'd faced every last one of them myself.
Hayun fought fair, showing herself openly to her opponents. She was the 'leader,' after all—the most recognizable face of the bunch.
In a tokusatsu show the leader would have been the Red one, but this was a magical girl series. Of course the most 'magical girl-like' member was the leader.
Happy Rose was even more of a brawler than Hayun, so naturally she fought head-on.
Her punches hurt like you would not believe. Once, my helmet cracked halfway through and I nearly lost my mind.
Happy Dahlia ran on pure whim. We never knew where she'd pop up next, which gave us endless headaches. For someone supposed to be a magical girl, she had a nasty habit of going for the back of your head—she's officially credited as the reason 'all-around vigilance' got added to our code of conduct.
Happy Delphinium specialized in long-range fire support. Honestly, an ordinary minion like me had no way of dealing with her—the moment she marked me from a distance, my only option was to run for my life.
...And last, Happy Iris.
She also handled fire support and long-range sniping at the same time, but her role was slightly different from Delphinium's. If Delphinium was indirect artillery, Iris was direct fire. The two famously couldn't stand each other, though, so they almost never covered for one another.
Not that it mattered much—Iris preferred operating apart from the others anyway.
“...”
No, hold on.
So all of them were coming here? Right now?
“They're all professionals, so there's no need to worry. Unless it's something truly serious, they probably won't even need to transform.”
“Wow!”
At some point, Jihye's face had shed every trace of fear.
If anything, she seemed to be quietly hoping for a transformation.
Well, I supposed I'd have been excited too, if I weren't personally entangled in all this.
Forcibly suppressing the urge to bury my face in my hands, I just stomped my feet in place.
In my head, that is.
Doing it on the outside would've given me away completely.
“...So you're telling me you called me here for such a personal reason.”
Iris said, her face a picture of utter annoyance.
For all that grumbling, she'd been the first one to come running. Had it taken her fifteen minutes or so to get here? Apparently the warp point technology she was researching had uses beyond attacks.
For some reason, she'd peered straight into my face the moment she arrived and I'd frozen solid—though Hayun noticed and hurried over to intercept her, saving my skin.
...She couldn't possibly recognize me, right? My helmet was thoroughly tinted. Short of actual X-ray vision, there was no way to see through it.
“Mm...”
“Haah.”
Iris pushed her glasses up with a finger.
Hayun's glasses had no lenses—or at least no prescription—so nudging them up or down hardly changed the face behind them. Iris's, on the other hand, carried a slight correction. With them on, her whole impression looked a touch softer.
Did their eyesight improve when they transformed? Not that such a detail had ever come up in the webtoon.
“Well, fine. Stalking is a crime, after all. This country may have freedom of expression... but I can't say that strictly obeying the law amounts to doing good.”
“...”
“...And why are you staring at me like that?”
“Huh? What? Oh—no, nothing.”
It's just...
She was the 'polite speech' character. In Korea, of all places.
Iris was the same age as Hayun. And not just the same age—they attended the same school. Which meant, in other words, she was my age too.
And she was using formal speech with someone her own age?
Ah, well, she'd done it in the webtoon too, so I supposed it carried over here...
“Doesn't it occur to you that staring so intently at someone you've just met is rather rude?”
...
No. We are not 'just met.'
You used to drop by our classroom at school all the time. Sure, you never said a word to me—but I sit right next to Hayun.
You two chat all the time.
Remembering none of that seems a bit much, doesn't it?
Then again, for my sake, being a total stranger to her was infinitely better.
Iris shot me a dissatisfied glance, but didn't seem inclined to press the point.
She drew a small breath, and let it out.
Then she opened her eyes and looked directly at Hayun.
“Then let's settle this quickly. We'll make absolutely sure no more of these perverted photos get taken—by legal means or otherwise.”
Wasn't that a bit extreme?
Her vibe was different from her magical girl form, too. Back then she'd carried herself with far more poise; right now she came across like a stiff, precocious little brat.
Her height, too... huh?
She used to be taller than me, didn't sh—
Oh.
Right. Of course.
She was always floating up in the sky, looking down—
“Excuse me.”
“Hm?”
At some point, Iris was frowning up at me again.
“You weren't thinking something rude just now, were you?”
“...”
“Haah. Honestly.”
Iris pressed a finger to her forehead in an ostentatiously superior gesture, shook her head, and turned to me.
“...Since you're Blossom's friend, I'll overlook the staring. Under ordinary circumstances, you would never be shown this side of me.”
Ordinary, schmordinary—we attended the same school.
And the magical girls of this world were practically idols; surely everyone knew their real names and faces... right?
“Ah, well, you see...”
Hayun quickly leaned in and whispered something into Iris's ear.
Iris's face went red on the spot.
“A-anyway!”
Judging by the sudden spike in volume, she genuinely hadn't known I was a student at her school.
...Let's count that as a blessing.
“Well, fine. If you're victims, then you're victims... Let's get this over with and disperse.”
“But the others haven't arrived yet—”
“Unlike us students on break, they have quite a lot on their plates.”
Um—all magical girls are minors.
At most a one-year age gap.
An 'adult magical girl' wouldn't be a 'girl' to begin with.
Honestly, people already debated whether high schoolers even counted as magical girls. Shouldn't it be magical 'youth'?
Something told me Iris would blow up again if I said that out loud, so I kept my mouth shut.
“What is it? Why do you look like you're bursting with things to say?”
Oh, so even silence sets her off.
What an exhausting personality.
“You just thought I was exhausting, didn't you!?”
“J-Jua!”
Hearing Iris's voice shoot up, Hayun hurried to rein her in.
Iris belatedly realized that shouting would pull every passerby's gaze toward us, and clamped her mouth shut.
...
The webtoon had an episode about Iris having no friends. Yeah. That tracks.
Hayun was probably the only person alive capable of putting up with a personality like that.
I was feeling an odd kinship with her, and Iris, catching the look on my face, wore an expression that said she had something more to say—but for now, she held her tongue.
“...Well then, shall we start by confirming the basics?”
Iris pulled the article up on her phone.
“All the photos were taken from behind. The one from a few days ago that came up in the search... it's a side profile, snapped the moment you entered the building. Which means, in the end, they were following you from behind and caught you turning around. Did either of you notice anyone tailing you?”
We each glanced over our shoulders, pointlessly.
And shook our heads.
Hearing it laid out like that, though, it did seem plausible the shots had been taken from close range.
A telephoto lens could only produce two kinds of photos.
Shot from above, looking down—or taken from a spot with relatively few people around.
The street was packed, which meant plenty of gaps to slip into—but with that many bodies in the way, actually confirming your target became genuinely difficult.
The problem was that we were standing in the middle of a busy thoroughfare right now.
We'd found a reasonably quiet spot in a park, but plenty of people still streamed past. A few even stole glances our way, which only added to the confusion.
“Well, fine. A phone could take pictures, sure... Hmm, but this doesn't look like a smartphone. The depth of field looks quite deep.”
Iris continued.
In the photos, everything around Hayun was definitively blurred out of focus.
I wasn't sure that was wise, unless they planned to mosaic the surroundings afterward. To make people 'misread' the situation, the background had to stay ambiguous. It would also be a problem if the 'boyfriend' came across as 'just a friend.'
“A digital camera stores the image formed on its sensor. Throwing everything but the subject out of focus like this... well. The only explanation I can think of is a physical close-up. Open the aperture too wide, and too much light floods the sensor, making the shot difficult.”
“And? And then?”
Jihye asked, getting a little worked up.
She looked like someone watching a detective crack a case.
Iris seemed a little pleased by the attention; she lifted her chin slightly.
“Well, the conclusion is simple.”
She folded down her fingers one by one as she spoke.
“Whoever took these has been tailing you at close range, carries a high-performance camera that produces clean shots even in dim indoor lighting, and has a lens capable of true optical zoom mounted on it.”
“...”
Jihye and I looked at each other, then back at Iris.
Hayun seemed to have already reached the conclusion, but perhaps out of consideration for Iris's enthusiasm, she simply watched on with a faint smile.
“But since no one carrying a camera was spotted, the answer is one of two things: either they have a camera built with alien technology, or part of their body has been modified. The latter seems more convincing to me.”
“Why? I heard body modification isn't exactly easy.”
“Because it has a professional's touch. Besides, no matter how small a camera is, holding one up separately to shoot is bound to look unnatural in some way.”
Iris said with a grin.
It was the same smile she'd worn while shooting at me.
“And professionals who write articles like this usually have their bodies modified. Filing the piece straight from their 'head' is faster and more convenient than ferrying it over to a laptop every few shots. And do be grateful—as it happens, I know exactly one such alien.”
Iris declared, positively triumphant.
“And that person also happens to be a wanted fugitive. Isn't that reason enough for them to be hiding out in this country, of all places?”
...Hm.
She couldn't possibly have memorized every alien criminal in this country... could she?
“It's common for alien criminals to hide out on Earth.”
Hayun explained to Jihye, taking her time.
“Most of Earth's developed nations never joined the Galaxy Federation. That lets them disregard international law to a certain extent.”
There was no extradition treaty. Earth didn't have access to the alien criminal database, either. What's more, galactic data formats and Earth's were rarely compatible, so transferring anything required a whole string of tedious procedures.
The Galaxy Federation was using that database as leverage, attaching one demand after another in exchange for handing it over to the developed nations. An extradition treaty, naturally—but the core of it was harmonizing Earth's judicial systems with the Federation's own.
Loose as it was, the Federation maintained something like an EU-style arrangement. Ideally, it wanted to move as 'a single nation.'
And that was precisely why so many countries were digging in their heels.
“...That's kind of terrifying.”
“Still, no need to worry too much. Catching people like that is part of our job too.”
“That's incredible. Really.”
Jihye's eyes were sparkling.
Meanwhile, my heart was shriveling up by the second.
That damned executive James had never once mentioned the journalist being a criminal. No—of course he hadn't; that was probably just as well. His company did advertise itself as 'legal,' after all.
The problem was that, thanks to him, I was now on track to get tangled up with said criminal.
“By the way, is it really fine to have civilians along like this? Wouldn't it be better to keep them out of the situation?”
“Ah...”
At Iris's words, Hayun made an expression that looked faintly displeased. I couldn't be sure. Hayun was the type to hide negative expressions like that whenever she could.
Neither Iris nor Jihye seemed to catch it.
“...Well, fine. If we scatter for no reason, the other side might notice.”
Iris yielded a step. It meant that, for now, she respected Blossom's position.
She was jealous—but Blossom was still Blossom.
“First, let's head somewhere with fewer people. Something... some pose that would make good tabloid fodder? The kind that's easy to edit into a misleading article.”
“Ah, that's easy.”
At Iris's words, Hayun came straight over and hooked her arm through mine.
“...”
And for a moment, Iris couldn't get a word out.
“Haah. Fine. Sure. Let's do that. As long as we find one, that's all that matters.”
Watching Hayun cling to me with a giddy little grin, Iris shook her head wearily.
Hmm.
I was starting to feel my heart shrink to the size of a walnut.
Probably just my imagination, right?