Embracing Hope (5)
In Ian-na's endlessly cloudy eyes—
There was no mistaking the terror that lingered there.
...Why?
Why was Ian-na looking at her with fear?
Why was she regarding her with the same gaze as everyone else?
Byeolmuri found herself at a loss for words.
Betrayal.
What washed over her was none other than a sense of betrayal.
Ian-na, of all people, must not look at her that way. She had reached out a hand. She had approached when Byeolmuri was alone. She had spoken first.
Though she never showed it, Byeolmuri felt Ian-na's absence keenly. Almost no one ever came to her first. It wasn't that she felt any great loneliness, but just a little... she felt hollow.
That was also why she desperately hoped, deep down, that Ian-na was being controlled. Then there would be at least some excuse for the evils Ian-na had committed so far. At the very least, she would not become a target for the other magical girls.
Once more, she wished Ian-na would regain her original self.
In her chest, just a little... a strange feeling was boiling up. Like a forbidden emotion she must never harbor—a peculiar feeling she had never once experienced in her entire life.
So, so......
Ian-na, of all people, must not look at her with those eyes.
Not when she was doing all of this for her sake.
"...Um."
Ian-na's voice trembled faintly. It was laced with fear. She was clearly terrified.
Byeolmuri strode forward, determined to look straight into the eyes of Ian-na sitting in the wheelchair and ask.
"Please wait. What business do you have...? Do not approach the Director any further."
"...I won't do anything like that. I just have something to ask."
Ian-na's Adjutant regarded Byeolmuri with open wariness. He did not want to see Ian-na's tears again. He did not want to see her writhing in agony again.
And so—
He shielded Ian-na in her wheelchair with his own back, standing squarely in Byeolmuri's path to keep her from coming any closer.
He looked ready to stake his life on it. The Adjutant's resolve had never been firmer.
"This is my final warning. I will inform the Deputy Director. Step back."
"B-both of you... p-plea..."
"I just want to talk. Why, why are you... looking at me with those eyes..."
What Byeolmuri felt was a vast, crushing betrayal.
Ian-na alone must not do this. She must not look up at her with eyes full of terror. She must not send her the same gaze as everyone else.
Lacking in communication skills, Byeolmuri could not properly express her emotions. Her thoughts were a tangled mess, and she could not say what she had prepared.
To the Adjutant, her attitude was extremely threatening. Just like Illusion or Libra, it looked like another scheme to stretch her claws toward the Director.
Click.
Without hesitation the Adjutant drew his automatic pistol. There was none of the previous hesitation. Better to die than hand Ian-na over—no matter what death awaited him.
Bang!
The automatic pistol in the Adjutant's hand spat fire. The bullet raced along the rifling—
Straight toward Byeolmuri's body.
"...This sort of thing."
Naturally, it was useless. A pistol was far too feeble to wound Byeolmuri.
The Adjutant knew this and still blocked her path.
For Ian-na's sake.
Byeolmuri's fury climbed to the crown of her head.
She had only approached Ian-na to talk.
And yet they dared—dared... to do something like this.
Every action of hers had been for Ian-na. She had come in person because she was deeply worried that Ian-na might be under control. She had wanted to speak with her to grasp her condition more accurately.
She had wanted to learn, through conversation, why Ian-na looked at her with those eyes, why she feared her.
But—
Ian-na had answered with a bullet.
...
It took only an instant.
Crash!
Byeolmuri closed the distance to the Adjutant's side at a speed invisible to the eye and drove her fist straight into his side. He toppled without even managing a scream.
His face went deathly pale in a heartbeat. Foam flecked his lips as he lost consciousness on the spot.
"He's not... dead."
She had controlled the force. He probably wasn't dead.
If he died, so be it. It would be the fault of his frail body.
Byeolmuri rubbed the fist that had struck the Adjutant's side, then stepped right in front of Ian-na just as she was.
"Ah, ah... ah..."
Ian-na had watched the entire scene. She tried to speak, but could not.
Because she was terrified beyond measure.
Yet the terror gripping Ian-na was not because she feared Byeolmuri herself.
It was because a deep trauma had taken root toward the very existence of magical girls.
The violence Illusion and Libra had inflicted upon her was something she would never forget until the day she died. It had already become the greatest event of Ian-na's life.
Her instincts had begun to fear nearly every kind of magical girl, far beyond Illusion and Libra alone. The terror, the misery, and the sorrow Ian-na had felt were simply too vast to confine to just two people.
And so, instinctively—
She had come to feel extreme terror toward the magical girls she herself had once protected and led.
It was not limited to Byeolmuri. She feared the Twelve Seats magical girls such as Illusion, Libra, and Entreaty, as well as the other artificial girls. Only the intensity differed a little.
To put it delicately, the degree of terror varied according to whether or not she wet herself.
Whenever Illusion or Libra spoke to her first and made contact, she invariably lost control of her bladder. Extreme terror crashed over Ian-na's body; strength fled her entire frame and urine leaked out on its own.
But—
Byeolmuri was different.
Compared to those two, she did not fear her quite so greatly.
That was why she had spoken first. In order somehow to overcome her terror of magical girls, she had addressed Byeolmuri, who had come looking for her.
Trickle, trickle, trickle.
Not anymore.
Ian-na began thrashing in her wheelchair. She looked up at Byeolmuri with a face of extreme terror, then thrashed and toppled forward, trying to check on the fallen Adjutant.
The Adjutant's body was trembling. Ian-na thought he was in danger. Clear tears beaded in both her eyes, and she crawled with all her strength, kicking and struggling to somehow reach him.
"Ian-na, you—"
Byeolmuri seized the shoulder of Ian-na thrashing on the floor, but—
"H-hieeeek!!!"
Ian-na convulsed and flung Byeolmuri's hand away.
"...You, too... thought of me... that way...?"
Byeolmuri muttered in a tearful voice, but Ian-na did not hear her.
Checking on the Adjutant, who had foamed at the mouth and collapsed, came first.
Why, for what reason—
Ian-na could not understand why this nightmare was repeating. What had she done? This time she had truly stayed still. She had done nothing that could possibly be misunderstood.
Of course, everything stemmed from Byeolmuri's misunderstanding. Seeing Ian-na fear her, Byeolmuri had forgotten the purpose of her visit and become obsessed solely with Ian-na's attitude.
Why look at me with those eyes? After cherishing me so much, why fear me?
This, too, was a misunderstanding.
It was true that Ian-na had cherished Byeolmuri, yet she had never attached any special significance to Byeolmuri's existence itself. She had simply cared for her and looked after her the way she did any other junior magical girl.
From Ian-na's perspective she had treated her no differently from the others—
But Byeolmuri had gotten the wrong idea.
Because of her peculiar aura, Byeolmuri had almost never received affection. Ian-na's kindness had delighted her so much she could hardly contain herself.
She had deluded herself alone—that Ian-na was looking only at her.
"Why, wh-hy... w-why... why... are you... doing this..."
"...That's my line. Why are you looking at me with those eyes? You of all people shouldn't."
"H-hngh... h-ugh..."
Grasping that the Adjutant's condition was serious, Ian-na shook violently and shed tears. Byeolmuri barely registered in her awareness now.
Again, once more—
The nightmare was unfolding, and the people around her were beginning to die.
This time it truly felt as if she would part from the Adjutant forever.
She did not want that.
"Speak properly. Why, why..."
Byeolmuri forced Ian-na upright.
She had no intention of using violence. She was not the Magical Girl of Illusion. She meant to resolve this through conversation alone—to learn why Ian-na looked at her that way.
...Right.
Perhaps it was the effect of brainwashing. Perhaps the cognitive-suppression chip in her brain had activated. Or perhaps this was not Ian-na at all.
She intended to uncover the truth.
By any means necessary.
"H-hngh..."
Ian-na's body shuddered, and she wet herself again. Instinctively she clutched her belly without realizing it. Her gaze went to Byeolmuri's fist. Once more, again, again—it felt as if "that" was about to happen.
Just then—
Han Ho-jun's voice issued from the pocket of Ian-na's uniform.