Chapter 19. Yearning (6)
"We still haven't decided what to do from here, have we?"
Jihye asked, after a long stretch of silence.
"Yeah."
I answered quietly. Alongside the embarrassment from a moment ago, a twinge of guilt welled up inside me. After all, it was we who had unilaterally taken over this room—and depending on how things went, they might even start hauling equipment in.
"I see."
Jihye replied evenly, then paused for a moment before speaking again.
"Then I guess we'll all be living in this room together for a while. Maybe quite a long while."
"Yeah, well... I suppose so."
When I answered a little helplessly, Jihye spoke as though she'd just steeled herself for something big.
"Then how about this weekend, the two of us go out for a bit? Just us."
"Just the two of us?"
That caught me off guard. When I opened my eyes again and looked at her, Jihye was gazing back at me with a remarkably firm resolve in her eyes.
"Yeah. Just the two of us."
Could the magical girls be getting on her nerves—
...No, it wasn't even about that. To Jihye, I was family. Maybe she simply wanted to spend some time together, just the two of us, the way family does.
I used to go out for dinners with my family now and then in my previous life, after all.
Still...
I rose from where I sat and folded myself cross-legged on the floor. Then I looked at Jihye.
Her expression had stiffened slightly. As if she already knew I was going to refuse.
And honestly, it wasn't as if I was dead set on refusing... It was just that Hayun and Jua kept clinging to my side these days, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Besides, I couldn't exactly ignore the friends who'd come all this way as guests, either.
"No?"
Jihye asked, looking me dead in the eye.
...She had a point.
Since I'd come back, there hadn't been all that much time for just the two of us. Her room had already been invaded as it was, and if kids she'd only just met tagged along every time we went out, that would wear on her in more ways than one.
Even if she didn't hate it, even if the awkwardness had faded somewhat, the same logic applied. Spending time with one person you knew inside and out—someone you could relax around—was bound to be less exhausting than constantly keeping company with people you'd only just started talking to.
"Okay."
I nodded. If Jihye was asking this much, then the least I could do was try.
Come to think of it, I hadn't been able to spend a single moment apart from those girls for a long stretch myself.
"Okay. I'll make some time. It's not like we have anything to do unless the government tells us to anyway."
While we were at it, we could stop by the hospital, too. It was near the commercial district anyway. Jihye would surely understand a quick check on Pangpang's condition.
At my answer, Jihye's face lit up.
It had been a long, long time since I'd seen a smile that bright, I thought.
"...Yeah, got it."
That weekend—the one on which I had all but given up on my midterms.
When I told Hayun and the other magical girls honestly about Jihye, Hayun nodded with a smile.
"Will you be okay?"
"Of course it's fine! Honestly, we're the ones who should've been asking you that all along. We're the ones borrowing your room, after all."
That part was fine, but... come to think of it, they were probably just as uncomfortable. This place had always been more an orphanage than truly my home.
They seemed to be having a genuinely good time playing with the kids, and to be finding their own kind of fulfillment in it, but the girls were also steadily closing in on several months since running away from home.
They still hadn't gone to see their parents.
Since things had come this far, I briefly considered telling them all to at least reach out to their families, but I let it go. That was something those girls had to decide for themselves.
If I butted in, it would only tangle the problem further and make it grow.
I glanced toward Jua; she nodded as well.
"Then... I'm heading out. If any of you want to go somewhere too, feel free. It's not like you can't get around anymore."
At my words, the girls smiled.
"Well, for now it's just more comfortable here. Easier on the heart, I'd say," Rose said.
"And there's no one whose mood we have to watch, either," Dalia added, puffing out her chest.
"...And no one pestering us, either."
Don't the kids pester you? I tilted my head a little at Delphinium's remark, but if that was how she felt, then so be it.
Or maybe, against all odds, she actually liked the children.
Either way, hearing them say it put me at ease. I knew it was their way of telling me not to worry—but even so.
"..."
When the conversation wound down, we fell quiet for a moment. It had been a long time since I'd felt this particular awkwardness—just like in those first days after we'd all run away.
Thankfully, unlike back then, the mood itself was far gentler now.
Though, to be fair, the tension back then had mostly been my own doing.
"Well then, I'm off."
Saying it once more, I waved to Hayun.
Leaving behind Hayun, who waved back with a smile of her own, Jihye and I stepped out of the orphanage.
It wasn't as if I'd agonized seriously over what to do for fun.
Last time, we'd gone near Hongdae, a place I'd never even visited, but this time we settled on the spot we always used to go. True, I'd passed through that area any number of times in the middle of fights, but back then there'd obviously been no reason to stroll around and enjoy myself.
Since I was going out 'like always' with Jihye, I simply figured we should have fun 'like always,' too.
Jihye agreed, and we set off toward the bookstore, just like we used to—
"..."
"Do—do you still feel it?"
When I looked around without a word, Jihye asked carefully.
"Yeah. Though I'm not certain yet."
I had my cap pulled down low. I wasn't wearing a mask, but surprisingly, the people on the street didn't recognize me right away.
There were those who noticed and whispered among themselves, but no one openly let on that they knew me.
I was a magical girl, but my image wasn't exactly a good one. There was a time I'd been a wanted fugitive—no, for all I knew that warrant might never have been lifted—but either way, that old image would still be vivid in people's minds.
Threatening the police, rattling off a list of demands, and—evil syndicate or not—storming into someone else's company without any real evidence and leaving the place in shambles.
The only reason they didn't point fingers was probably that they figured I'd had my reasons for doing all that.
Jihye's face was fairly well known in its own right, but her stretch in the media had been relatively brief compared to mine, and toward the end she'd appeared on TV with her face mosaic-blurred precisely because she was neither a magical girl nor a fugitive—so far fewer people recognized her than me.
Which meant that, had things simply run their ordinary course, the two of us could have wandered around and enjoyed ourselves without any real trouble.
But.
"..."
I swept my gaze around with slightly narrowed eyes.
We had deliberately come somewhere with fewer people, but perhaps because it was the weekend, the weather was finally warming, and it was bright midday, there were people everywhere.
Every last bench in the park had someone on it, and no matter which alley we slipped into, somehow even its deepest reaches were packed—restaurants, cafes, crammed full of people. When we even ducked into one rather gloomy old alley, there were—of all things—foreign tourists wandering through taking pictures, and we hurried straight back out.
The reason we were hunting for an empty spot wasn't the people watching us.
It was the paparazzi.
"Sorry. I should've thought it through a little more before we came out."
"N-no, it's the person following us who's in the wrong."
Jihye answered, flustered.
That's right. A paparazzo seemed to have... latched onto my tail.
The reason I could only say seemed was that I still couldn't be certain.
Back when I was with Hayun, she'd read the situation instantly; apparently I wasn't up to that level yet.
There was certainly no lack of suspicious signs. Every time I swept my gaze across the street, a figure kept slipping away into that same corner. Nothing ghostlike about it—just a person, as far as I could tell.
The problem was that in the crowded areas, every time my eyes moved, they vanished just beyond my line of sight and kept an exquisite distance, so I never managed to get a fix on their face or clothing.
So I'd planned to lure them out somewhere quiet, where they'd have to show themselves alone—but the moment we reached a relatively empty place, they disappeared from view entirely.
Probably dropping back behind us, or something of the sort.
But I didn't want to call in the magical girls, either. If I did, the whole mood would shatter to pieces.
This was a daily life I'd only just clawed back after so long. Even that was already teetering on the brink thanks to the people who recognized me—and pulling out the pager now would be as good as smashing even that fleeting sliver of normalcy.
I'd figured it would be better to catch them myself and hand them over to the police, and I'd resolved to handle it the way Hayun would have—but.
"It seems... they're not actually here for a fight."
If their aim was to keep me from noticing them, and their aim was to photograph me and sell the shots, then of course they wouldn't resort to violence.
But at the same time, someone that adept at hiding was a professional through and through.
"Hmm."
Just as I sank into thought, Jihye sank into the very same contemplation.
After a while of deliberating with a hand at her chin, she quietly looked up at me—then suddenly clapped her hands together, as if an idea had struck.
Startled by the sound, I blinked, and Jihye spoke.
"Jieun."
"Yeah?"
"You can transform with the power of Hope too, right?"
Coming right out and saying transform like that made me feel a little strange.
Not that I wasn't transforming, exactly—I'd just never actually shouted 'Trans-form!' or anything of the sort.
The absence of a transformation pose or catchphrase was the Author's taste, too. After all, that webtoon depicted what would happen if magical girls truly existed in the real world.
"Yeah, that's right."
When I answered, somewhat grudgingly, Jihye looked me straight in the eye.
Whatever she was about to say, her face had gone rather red.
"And, Jieun—I already know, from everything I've read in the papers, exactly what kinds of situations make you feel Hope most strongly."
"Huh?"
For a moment, I didn't understand what Jihye meant.
It took a lag of a few tenths of a second before it dawned on me what she was getting at.
"Wha—wait. Jihye. You don't mean—?"
"Calling a magical girl here would be a bit much, wouldn't it? It'd take time for them to arrive. And with someone who slips away this well, the moment you so much as touch something like a pager, they'll already be gone."
"Hold on. Hold on a second."
I said, holding out one hand toward Jihye.
Then I brought that hand up to my forehead and pressed my index finger hard against it.
She couldn't possibly mean—
"Jihye, wait. Even so, that's..."
"It's not."
Before I could even finish, Jihye cut me off, flat and absolute.
That expression as she looked up at me—how long had it been since I'd last seen it?
Ever since I'd run away from home, Jihye had always seemed a little unsteady. She was far stronger than I was, so she'd managed to hold on, but her face had worn the look of someone who couldn't sleep properly for fear of losing the only family she had.
And even when she met me to talk, that old, proud bearing of hers had all but vanished from view.
But this expression was different. It wasn't that kind of expression at all.
If anything, it was from even further back—the expression she wore when Jihye and I used to fight all the time.
Both hands planted on her hips, face set hard as stone as if to say she could never, ever be wrong, refusing to yield an inch.
I hadn't backed down either, back then—I threw my own tantrums in my own way—but in the end, the two of us both learned to give a little ground and sort things out together.
Naturally, as time went on, the occasions that put that expression on Jihye's face had all but disappeared.
"It's not? It's not what?"
"Whatever it is you're thinking, it's not that."
"And what exactly do you think I'm thinking?"
"You were going to refuse whatever I'm about to suggest. No matter what excuse you had to dig up."
"..."
At that, my mouth fell slightly open.
No, I mean—well, yes, that was true, but.
Jihye took a step toward me. I retreated half a step.
"Jieun."
Jihye said, firm and unwavering.
"If the situation calls for it, then you should be putting your power to active use."
"I know that, but—"
"And if the person who can make using that power possible is me, then obviously you should use it. What else would you do if this situation were exactly that?"
"No, because it isn't that kind of situation."
"And if it were?"
It wasn't. I wanted to believe it wasn't.
Because if it were, then this whole situation would be as good as something I'd created myself.
I should have anticipated at least this much the moment Jihye asked me to go out, just the two of us. There had, after all, been someone who photographed me kissing Hayun and turned it into an article.
Granted, the odds were good that person wasn't the same one tailing us now—but these were people who would do anything for page views, weren't they?
And besides.
"There's no guarantee the one taking pictures isn't similar to the person who followed us last time. And they're not someone you can just sprint after and catch on your own two legs, are they?"
That was true. They could be an alien. One who'd modified their own body.
And... an alien like that would be far stronger in raw power than any ordinary Earthling. Even an Earthling could have hurt Jihye in the middle of one of my fights—so what chance would there be against an alien?
Among the kaijin I'd faced, after all, there had been one that melted steel with its own bodily fluids.
"That's why I need your power."
"..."
"Right. The moment you use the pager, they might bolt far out of reach and you'd never catch them. But they're not the type to give up over that, are they? They'll only come creeping back to take more pictures, or to dig up whatever stories they can about us."
Jihye said, watching me.
"In that case, you have to say it to their face. Catch them, and warn them yourself—never do this again. Otherwise they'll do the exact same thing all over. Drive them off, and they'll come back. Even if we go home, they'll follow us right to our door. Police won't stop them, curtains won't stop them—they'll wait for the very moment we step into view and take the shot. So you have to tell them, clearly and unmistakably, to stop."
...Even a warning delivered face to face might not make them quit, it was true.
Someone other than the one being warned might come to torment us next.
But.
"...I know. I do know."
Yes. I knew.
In the end, what mattered was power. The government, the Company, the Federation—while I kept my head down, they'd only ever tried to use me, but the moment I began resisting in earnest, they started keeping their distance and treating me with care.
Noir Corporation had even contemplated fleeing entirely because of me.
"Sometimes you have to stop running and fight—and you, of all people, who's been through battle after battle, know that better than anyone."
Jihye said.
"And if you're going to fight, then I intend to follow you all the way to the end and help. Because—we're family."
"..."
Jihye took another step toward me.
This time, I didn't back away. Because I think I finally understood what she was trying to say.
"I know you want to protect me. And I'm grateful for that. So grateful that someone in this world sees me that way. But that doesn't mean I want to be a stumbling block in your path."
Jihye's words were resolute. Her voice didn't waver.
Neither did the footsteps drawing closer to me.
"So let me be there to help, in the moments I can. Even in a situation like this, I don't want to be the one who's only ever protected."
I closed my eyes for a moment.
And then, before long, I nodded.
When I opened them, Jihye was gazing at me, smiling.
"Good. Then..."
Jihye said, lifting both her arms.
"...I can help, right?"
"...Yeah."
At my answer, Jihye threw herself straight at me.
And burrowed into my arms.
I wrapped both arms around her.
"Can you see them?"
"No."
But—
"I can hear them."
Yes.
I couldn't see them. But I heard them.
The sound of a camera shutter clicking.
The reason I could pick it out from that far away was probably because I wanted to.
And also because the circuit I now carried with me at all times was whirring along at full tilt.
My heart was at ease. Every worry I'd been carrying suddenly felt like it didn't matter at all. Because Jihye had said those words to me.
Maybe—she'd wanted to say them all along, whether or not it ever came to this. And they were words far too personal to say in front of the other girls.
"Well then, now you'll be needing power."
Jihye said abruptly.
"Power?"
"The kind you use when you fight."
I felt Jihye's breath against me and, startled, lowered my head.
There were Jihye's eyes.
Brimming full—Jihye's shining eyes filled my view.
Those eyes were so close—
—so close that something soft came to rest against my lips.
Peck.
A tiny sound like that reached my ears, and Jihye's face slowly drew away.
"Magical girls transform when they fight—it's only natural, isn't it?"
Jihye flashed me a grin.
Her face burned so red it looked ready to burst, but that smile was—so achingly familiar to me, Jihye's smile.
A smile only Jihye could make.
It was Jihye's face—there could be no better one in all the world for me to hold Hope in my heart.