No Such Thing as Free Kindness

Mother's mental state was extremely unstable. That was what worried me most.

She possessed a bizarre, almost unnatural ignorance of how society worked — and yet the things she grasped with perfect, unwavering clarity were these: that you always read a contract before you signed it, that you did not want to get mixed up with government people, and that that place had been hell.

The ledger of her common sense did not balance. She did not know the things a person ought to know, and she knew, with terrible precision, the things a person really shouldn't. On top of it all, she even seemed uncomfortable living in a hotel where people were always there to clean up after her. She carried herself like someone who understood there was no such thing as unpaid kindness. Like someone who knew that after kindness came pain.

"Baekhwa."

"Yes."

Yoran was skilled at background checks and under-the-table investigations; her twin sister Baekhwa was skilled at surveillance. I scanned the report Baekhwa held out to me, then covered my face with one hand.

"This report. It's all true, isn't it?"

"It is. As always, I do not allow personal feelings to enter my reports."

"Right..."

I had already finished the cross-verification. The photographs posted on internet communities and the photographs in Baekhwa's report carried identical image data. In other words, both sets were genuine — neither had been doctored.

In the photos, Mother sat at an outdoor convenience-store table, perched unnaturally in a squat on top of the chair, drinking beer and chewing on dried shredded squid.

I hadn't even gone a few days without visiting her. I hadn't expected her to come unraveled this fast.

Dusick was right there beside her, but Dusick alone would have a hard time taking care of Mother. She was still so young...

I knew exactly what the Mother in those photographs was feeling. I knew exactly why she was this afraid.

I had been through it myself.

Back before the Two-sided Barrier had been developed — when a Mogumogu-dan attack meant people actually died or were injured, and buildings actually came down — I had still been clumsy in a fight. My mistakes had cost us a clean victory, and the damage had been real. I still remembered the faces of the government officials when I came back. That disappointment, thick enough to touch. I remembered those eyes, looking at me as though I had failed to live up to everything they had expected of me.

I had already received Frilly's report.

Mother had been beaten into a fairly wretched state. Without Kabe, she would have taken a far worse hit — that much was certain.

And given what that situation had been — given that Mother was a woman — something may well have happened that reopened a trauma capable of leaving a wound past the body and into the mind.

I let out a long breath.

"Association President, may I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Why do you take such an interest in the woman in those ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠photographs? I understand you haven't even told Yoran."

Hm.

I didn't know either. I didn't know why I was this concerned about Mother.

"Beats me."

Even if I didn't know the reason, what was I supposed to do when my own heart told me to care? But saying that wouldn't be any kind of answer for Baekhwa, who was watching me with eyes full of questions.

"There are times I cannot understand you, Association President."

I stacked the pages neatly and gathered them into a single bundle.

"That intranet post from before, for instance."

Tap, tap, tap. I aligned the edges until nothing stuck out, then rolled the report up. I murmured a small incantation, and a tiny flame blossomed at my fingertip.

"Even if you had said Dusick wrote it, there wouldn't have been a problem. Why do you let them keep believing you were the one who wrote it...?"

The report caught. I tossed it into the trash can.

The pages vanished into the flames. The photograph of Mother squatting on a convenience-store chair with a beer in her hand vanished with them.

"If I said Dusick wrote it, do you think the other magical girls would have left her alone?"

"She already defected to Mogumogu-dan, didn't she?"

"That's hindsight. It might have happened even sooner. And that was about as much as I could do for Dusick."

"But—"

"Ah, drop it. How's that kid Kabe doing?"

"While they were at the hotel, she went to the kids' play area in the lobby more than anywhere else. Her guardians were usually her mother — Mother — and Dusick, together."

"Oh..."

Wait. Then she should have taken pictures.

"The photos?"

"They were in the report just now, along with—"

"What?"

I frantically peered into the trash can. It was already full of nothing but ash.

"Why didn't you say that sooner?!"

"I thought you'd already looked through all of it."

"Oh, for crying out loud. Just— send me the Kabe photos later. Email the files."

"Understood. Shall I continue surveillance?"

Hm. Well, that was probably enough. I didn't think it was really necessary anymore. Ah — there was one other thing bothering me.

"Baekhwa."

"Yes."

"Lately, uh... the number of users supporting me has dropped off pretty significantly. You know that, right?"

Baekhwa's expression grew peculiar. Honestly, it was a little embarrassing to bring this up, but the fact that I posted on the communities was something only Baekhwa and Yoran knew about.

I had kept my security airtight so that no one would ever find out. But ever since Mother showed up, she had seized the gallery queen seat of the Magical Girl Gallery in a single stroke, and frankly, it did not sit well with me.

I had barely managed to push out Team Aqua and get Team Eve into power as gallery queen — and then that Mother girl suddenly appeared and swallowed the throne whole...

Just thinking about it made me mad.

"The gallery queen really ought to be Eve-nim, you know. I didn't like the look of it either. A single mother and a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠villain, and they act like she's something special just because her face is a little pretty..."

Baekhwa's face wrinkled.

The single-mother part was a colossal misunderstanding, of course, but this wasn't the moment for me to correct it. Better to just let it slide for now.

"Anyway, keep an eye on the gallery management."

"Hmm... Yes, understood."

"I'm counting on you. Gallery mod."

"Yes."

"Yep."

Bespredel was remarkably light. Even accounting for how short it was for a rifle, the weight sat well on the light side — light enough that holding it one-handed while I stood, like this, was no strain at all.

I wondered how much recoil there would be when I actually pulled the trigger...

Bespredel's voice surfaced inside my head. The moment I equipped the gun, Bespredel's manifested form vanished and settled into the weapon itself, letting us speak directly.

"I recharge the magic myself each time you fire, so you need not concern yourself with remaining ammunition. However, the magic consumption is rather considerable, so you must not fire in rapid succession."

"What happens if this hits a magical girl? What if it hits a regular person?"

"If it hits a civilian, they die, of course."

Well. That was obvious enough. I would have to make absolutely sure I never fired this at an ordinary person.

"And in the case of a magical girl, the Two-sided Barrier treaty prevents it from being lethal. Using a headshot as the baseline, a C-class would be forced to withdraw from combat immediately, a B-class would be rendered combat-incapable for some time, and an A-class could be knocked unconscious for a brief moment."

What? That wasn't as strong as I'd expected.

"That is because of the treaty. Outside the Two-sided Barrier, a headshot would instantly kill anyone up through A-class."

Well, if this gun just popped people left and right in a single shot, the people watching wouldn't have much fun either.

In that case, what I really wanted to know was the probability of landing a headshot.

"Less than three percent. Accuracy was not exactly the priority when I was made..."

All that talk about being a magic gun, and the headshot rate was this bad?

Not that it mattered much. My main weapon was still the rocket punch. If this was just a way to keep the enemy from freely throwing out attack skills while I closed the distance, I didn't need a headshot. Just enough to make them think twice about committing to an offensive was plenty.

"Alright. Got it."

"However, once you raise your proficiency, you will be able to handle a wider variety of firearms."

And what was that supposed to mean?

"However, I cannot disclose any further information at this time. Additional forms will unlock gradually as your proficiency rises— no, don't! Mother! If you slam me into the ground like that, even I will feel pain!"

I'd started to raise the gun to smash it into the floor, wondering who this thing thought it was messing with, and a shriek of genuine terror came back at me.

Ugh, so loud.

"If! You're not even! Going to tell me! Ahead of time! Then why! Say it! At all! Huh!"

"It's an achievement! It's like a challenge achievement! Mother! Please don't, it really hurts!"

Tsk.

Honestly. Couldn't stand any of them, this one or that one.

"Fine. That's enough for today. But why do you know so much, anyway?"

It really was strange. The Two-sided Barrier, magical girl ranks — talking to this thing, it actually knew more than Keru.

"I had no master, so I spent every day holed up in the library."

So it was because he'd read a lot of books. Did that mean Keru never read...?

"Why couldn't you find a master?"

"If someone can afford the magic that gets carved away in great chunks with every shot, they would be better off simply using magic than using me..."

That was fair enough.

If you had magic to spare, using magic was the better play. Was there anyone else like me — overflowing with magic power and completely unable to cast a single spell?

Come to think of it, where had everyone gone? I peeked into the master bedroom. Kabe was asleep on the bed. Dusick, Sohee — neither ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of them was anywhere in sight.

Where did they all go?

I called Dusick. She picked up after just a few rings.

"Dusick, where are you?"

"Oh, yeah? What about my salary?"

"Ah. That explains it."

I hadn't even known. Last night I'd grabbed Keru's tail and given him the giant swing treatment again. He had been saying something or other, but I'd been so angry it hadn't really registered. So that was why.

I should at least crack open a can of tuna for him today by way of apology.

"Dusick. What name did you put on Sohee's account? She doesn't have an identity either, does she?"

"You know that's a borrowed-name account, right...?"

I was going to have to talk to Eve about this too. This was against the law. It was a direct violation of the Real-Name Financial System.

A business had to be run transparently if you didn't want trouble later.

"Anyway, I got it. Anything you want for dinner?"

From the other end of the line I could hear something like What do you want to eat? being passed back and forth, but they didn't seem to be arriving at any particular conclusion.

"Just wait there. What can you see nearby?"

I roughly pieced together where the two of them were, woke Kabe, got her changed, and headed out.

Well. Eating out every once in a while was a good thing. Eating out was nice.