Chapter 17. Question (4)
Jihye had been spending far more time on her smartphone lately.
Then again, who didn't these days? Watching videos, scrolling through photos, reading the short posts that friends and acquaintances left behind—long ago the thing had become impossible to pry from people's hands.
Even so, that didn't mean Jihye actually read the online news often.
She had glanced, on occasion, at the entertainment articles splashed across the front page—less out of any real interest than because the headlines were lurid, or because they featured the 'friend' Jieun spoke of. Most of the time, there was nothing worth reporting at all.
No magical girl had ever died. Nor had one ever been hospitalized with a serious injury. As far as Jihye knew, magical girls were all but invincible—wounds healed in an instant, and the mana cloaking their bodies meant they hardly ever got hurt in the first place.
Besides, everyday life was well protected, so even the most sensational headlines usually turned out to be about nothing.
The only articles with anything resembling 'substance' had been, of course, the romance coverage of Blossom.
The actual subject of the photos in those pieces had been Jieun, and the articles themselves were almost pure fabrication—but the fact that they had 'really held hands,' that they had 'really been together,' at least, was true.
Come to think of it, Jieun had often talked about Blossom—about 'Lee Hayun'—back in ordinary times.
By her own account, that Hayun was the only person she could call a friend, so perhaps it was only natural.
And then that Hayun had taken Jieun away.
No—maybe that wasn't quite accurate. As far as Jihye could tell, the one wielding that teleportation-like power had been Jieun herself.
Which meant that, all things considered, it might have been Jieun all along who carried the other magical girls along with her.
And every time that thought surfaced, Jihye felt something she couldn't put into words.
Yes—without question, the one who had said she wouldn't follow was Jihye. It was obvious she'd be no help even if she did go. She'd count herself lucky just not to be a burden; in all likelihood, she would simply become one.
The last time they'd met, Jieun had given her a tender look. Seeing it, Jihye had felt strangely reassured.
A look that said Jieun hadn't forgotten her—that the one person Jihye thought of as her only family still cherished her, exactly as she was—
"......"
So naturally, wherever Jieun was, Jihye had no reason to worry.
No reason at all.
Today as always, without fail, Jihye was watching that news.
On any normal day she would have had school, but today, by odd coincidence, she was off. Nothing special about it—the school's founding anniversary was still far off, and if today had been a red day on the calendar, the civil servants wouldn't have been at work to begin with.
About a week ago, people in suits had come to the orphanage.
After showing the Director some form of identification, they had gone straight to Jihye.
What they told her was this: 'that day might be dangerous, so don't go out, and stay safe under protection.'
They had apparently already sent official notice to her school.
"Why... me?"
"We assess a high probability that the magical girls will be on the move that day."
Perhaps to soften the intimidation, the one delivering the message was a fairly young woman—though even she looked more than ten years Jihye's senior.
"Because they may come looking for you, Miss Jung Jihye."
"Don't tell me—they're going to try to arrest me again?"
Jihye asked in a voice she almost never let out.
She was the type to keep things smooth with everyone, managing herself so she'd never have to fight with anyone—but that day, her mood was not good.
No—it hadn't been good the entire time she'd been apart from Jieun. She'd been losing sleep night after night. If it were merely a matter of distance, it wouldn't have been like this. Just knowing that Jieun would return safe in a few days would have let Jihye sleep without such dread.
But there was no guarantee of that.
Fighting kaijin was a magical girl's job.
She had always believed they 'never got hurt,' but the video had shown her, clearly at last, Jieun wounded and suffering.
She had even put in a special request—as though her food had run out.
There was no telling where or how she was living. If she couldn't even go to the grocery store, then of course she couldn't go anywhere like a hospital, either. Could she wash properly where she was staying? Was her bed comfortable? Probably none of it. She might be somewhere the electricity didn't even run reliably.
And with people hunting Jieun like this on top of everything, there was no way her heart could be at ease.
"No. That isn't it."
That was the woman's answer, but Jihye couldn't believe a word of it.
Weren't these the very people who had rained live rounds down on Jieun? Who, last time, had gone so far as to drag Jihye along in an attempt to pressure her?
Once they learned Jihye wouldn't play along, they hadn't even bothered to hide their disappointment. And now they meant to use her as bait all over again?
"We... have no plans to make contact with the magical girls at present. I can't tell you very much, but..."
"Then how am I supposed to believe you?"
"...I have nothing to offer you but the request that you trust us."
The woman, for her part, looked genuinely troubled.
Persuading someone while your authority to speak was restricted couldn't be an easy job—not that Jihye much cared.
"Even if I refuse, you'll just do whatever you want anyway, won't you?"
It frightened her a little, but she asked anyway, half in defiance.
The woman offered no answer—only a somewhat awkward expression.
"......"
Whatever it was adults considered important, it seemed to have nothing at all to do with something like Jihye's school life.
And so—Jihye ended up spending the day inside the orphanage, unable to go to school.
Skipping school was easy on the body, but the unease remained.
Were there really people out there who meant to attack her? Would someone try to abduct her again, the way they had last time?
Would Jieun come to see her?
Worrying it over and over, she had found herself searching for information on 'the places Jieun was likely to appear'—just as those people had said.
Which was how she had come upon what she watched that morning: the news.
And in that broadcast, 'Blossom'—pressed close against Jieun's side—had cried it out.
Her face was radiant.
Jieun, dressed in that white magical girl outfit as before, simply stood there flushing red, saying nothing.
And gathered close at Jieun's side, other magical girls could be seen as well.
"Magical... girls..."
Had Jieun become a magical girl because she wanted to?
Every time Jihye had ever seen her, Jieun had looked worn to the bone. She couldn't remember a single moment when Jieun in her magical girl clothes had looked that happy.
And yet Jieun hadn't denied those words in the slightest.
As if everything had already been settled among them somewhere Jihye couldn't see, she had only stood there quietly, face burning.
"......"
Yes—Blossom was one of the only friends Jieun had. Maybe it would have been stranger if they hadn't made up. If a friendship was real, a little friction shouldn't shatter it so easily.
But the girl standing beside her—
what was that strange, hollow sense of something being stolen from her?
She knew perfectly well how odd it was to feel such a thing. However close a family might be, they didn't lay bare every last part of themselves to each other, and the friends two people made never overlapped completely.
Just as Jihye knew little of Jieun's friends, Jieun knew little of hers.
And yet, all the same, Jihye felt as though something were tightening around her heart.
She had worried this much—so seeing Jieun safe and well ought to have brought nothing but relief.
So what, exactly, was this feeling supposed to be?
"Jieun!"
And the moment she actually laid eyes on Jieun, all of it melted away like snow, as though she had never felt it at all.
She cracked her shoulder against the doorframe bursting out of her room, but there was no time to feel the pain—Jihye ran straight for Jieun.
And threw herself into her arms.
Jieun, too, silently wrapped her arms around Jihye's back.
Was it only Jihye's imagination that those arms seemed to have grown a little firmer?
"...Have you been okay?"
Jieun whispered the question against Jihye's shoulder. At those words, the tears nearly burst from Jihye's eyes.
Certain that opening her mouth would only produce a broken sob, she simply nodded, quietly.
Even as Jieun's shoulder was already growing damp with her tears.
Only when she pulled Jieun close with all her strength did she finally notice it.
A faint smell of oil clung to Jieun's body. And when she blinked the tears from her eyes, what she saw was the black grease staining that white dress.
Her hair was the same—sticky patches of black and yellowish oil smeared here and there.
Jihye leaned back slightly to look her over.
She was a mess.
Small scrapes ran here and there, and bruises had already begun to bloom dark in places.
The outfit exposed far too much skin for fighting—hardly built for battle at all—which only made the wounds stand out more.
"Your face... what happened to it..."
Fighting down another surge of tears, Jihye reached out and touched Jieun's cheek.
Every time they met she tried not to cry, and every time, it wasn't easy. Jieun was her only family—watching her hurt and hurting was enough to break her.
And all of that suffering existed because Jieun had worn herself down trying to keep this orphanage alive.
The subsidies kept the place barely afloat, but there were so many corners where they had to scrimp. Clothes handed down from child to child, an allowance not even dreamed of, broken things that were all but impossible to repair.
Jieun had kept fighting for the sake of that orphanage.
Jihye, living under its roof, had reaped the benefit too—without ever knowing it, until now.
Which was exactly what made it hurt worse.
The best thing would have been for her never to do any of it. Living with nothing at all was far better than her precious family living under the shadow of injury and death. After they graduated, they could simply have stayed together, finding whatever ways they could to look after each other.
And if she'd truly had no choice but to do such work, then she could at least have bragged about it.
Telling everyone here that she was the one keeping them fed, that they should be grateful, that she was working this hard.
But because she was Jieun, she never would.
That was simply who Jieun was.
When her trembling hand traced Jieun's face, Jieun cracked a wry smile and caught that hand in her own.
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
At Jihye's words, Jieun's face clouded a little.
Was even this useless meddling? Was she only getting in the way of whatever Jieun was trying to do?
Anxiety coiled in her chest. She didn't believe Jieun would come to hate her over something like this—and still, she didn't want to be the one who caught Jieun by the ankle and brought her down.
"I'm okay."
Jieun said.
And then, laying her hand against Jihye's face, she asked:
"Are you okay?"
"I'm... okay."
Of course. Of course she had to be. Because Jieun was pouring herself out like that.
Because Jihye was among the people Jieun was fighting to protect, it was only natural that she be fine—
"......"
Jieun gazed at her in silence, as if trying to read what was going through her mind.
The look on her face was so earnest that Jihye could only stare back into it.
"How are things here? Have any strange people come by since?"
Jieun asked, drawing her hand back.
Jihye let out a breath and nodded.
"Not since then."
"...I see."
Jieun's expression twisted with pain.
Was she blaming herself again?
Taking the arrival of those strange people that day entirely upon herself?
Jihye knew nothing of what had actually happened that day.
She didn't want to know, either.
All she knew was that the person who saved her that day had been Jieun.
And Jieun had surely come here today because of her, too.
Thinking that made her feel strange all over again—so many emotions churned into a knot that she could no longer tell which was which.
Was it joy? Joy that even amid all this, Jieun had put her first? Was her heart racing because Jieun had come running, vowing to protect her?
Or was it disappointment in herself?
Was this feeling actually remorse—that once again she'd become a stumbling block, that Jieun couldn't go somewhere more important and had been forced to come here instead?
"I-I'm okay. And this place will probably... be okay too. Look outside. There are that many police officers out there."
"They won't be standing out there every day, though."
"Even so."
"...This place has been put in danger because of me before."
"It was not!"
Jihye cried out in a rush at Jieun's words, then hurriedly clapped a hand over her mouth. Jieun's eyes had widened slightly.
"I mean—what I'm trying to say is."
Jihye stumbled on in a smaller voice.
"...What I mean is, it's the people who come here to do bad things who are bad. Not you. You just got swept up in it. You haven't done anything wrong at all."
"Done nothing wro—"
At Jihye's words, Jieun began to say something—and stopped.
Her face had gone rigid.
Had Jihye said something she shouldn't have? Something Jieun hated to hear?
She truly didn't understand anything anymore. Every meeting with Jieun since that day had left her head in shambles. Too many things had tangled together, and now she couldn't tell who stood on whose side, or what was right and what was wrong.
All she could wish was that Jieun, standing in the middle of it all, would somehow stay safe. That they could go on meeting each other—always, as family, as best friends.
Wasn't it simply too much, to watch a precious friend who shared every memory of her childhood be threatened like this?
"......"
Jieun held that stiff expression as she looked quietly at Jihye for a long moment, then gave a small bow of her head.
And stepped back.
"...I'm sorry."
"Huh?"
It took her a little while to understand the words that had left Jieun's mouth.
Watching Jihye worry over me this much—what was I supposed to say to her?
When someone living an ordinary life is suddenly exposed to danger far too large for them, how do they respond, once the shock passes?
I suspected I had been taking all of it far too lightly.
Jihye's life had been threatened last time. I didn't even know exactly what those people had intended to do to her. All I could say was that, thank goodness, it had ended as an attempt—
Anyone who has seen someone coming after them with a blade drawn is likely left with deep wounds in the mind. They might spend the rest of their life inside a trauma they can never forget—even if the blade never actually touched them.
Maybe Jihye was living in exactly that kind of fear.
And the one who had driven her into that fear was not anyone else. It was me.
"...I'm sorry."
This was what I should have done from the very start.
Jihye only stared at me blankly, as though she couldn't quite take in what I was saying.
"I... I'm the one who let things come to this."
Frankly speaking, it was a confession that had burst out of my mouth on impulse.
The same was true of Hayun. The magical girls being hounded into situations like this was entirely my doing. In the original story, the Chairman was never driven out—so perhaps even that, too, was because of me. I still didn't understand the reasons, but maybe the current Chairman, seeing the former Chairman's projects going suspiciously well, had schemed to devour the company before those results could ever be delivered.
I couldn't say, precisely, why the webtoon's author had sent me to a place like this either—but in the end, perhaps it was simply to make me suffer like this.
I felt the vibration from the circuit at my wrist grow a little fainter.
"It's because I took that job in the first place. If I had never joined the company—never become a combatant—maybe none of this would ever have happened."
I felt I owed an apology to everyone, but of them all, the person in the gravest danger was Jihye—someone who, from the very beginning, had had nothing to do with the original story at all.
An ordinary civilian who couldn't so much as transform into a magical girl. And yet, precisely because she was 'the only existence I couldn't afford to lose,' she was being tormented from every direction.
"I... what I mean is—"
But my words never reached their end.
Before I could say any more, a rather strong impact struck my body.
Jihye had flung herself at me again and squeezed me tight.
"How is any of that your fault?"
Jihye said.
Her voice was heavy with sorrow, plain for anyone to hear.
"There isn't a single thing about it that's your fault..."
Jihye forced the words out through clenched teeth, as if to hold back her sobs.
"......"
Oh, honestly.
You've always been... far too kind.
Unable to return the embrace or do anything at all, I simply stood there, dazed.
Jihye tightened her arms around my waist even harder.
As if to stop me from saying anything more.
As if to keep me from ever stepping back out beyond this.
What on earth was I supposed to do?
I had come all this way draped in the pretext of protecting her, carrying my own selfishness along with it—and was I, in truth, only wounding her further?
At the thought, it felt as though my heart were being wrung out.
And yet, even then, my hopeless mind was quietly rejoicing—rejoicing that Jihye had accepted my apology so easily.
...I resented the circuit turning inside my head, just a little.