Performance in the Rain

“Pania!” I shot up from my seat before I even realized what I was doing.

I… no. It wasn’t me. Why the hell had she taken the dog? She must have mistaken it for Porim and dragged the poor thing off somewhere quiet to finish it off. Whatever her reasons, I had to find Pania right now. It wouldn’t be the least bit strange if she never came back. The girl was in such an unstable state that there was no telling what she might do next.

The eyes that had been fixed on the torn gap in the tent swung toward me. In the silence, with only the sound of rain drumming overhead, I started walking toward the opening to chase after her.

“Lady Xena…?”

But Kwak Seong-heum’s dazed face stopped me in my tracks. It hit me then—if I just walked out like this, his life would be in danger. No one would dare touch a magical girl’s companion, but the fact that my companion Pania had thrown a fit and stormed out was the problem. If I abandoned my seat too, there would definitely be harsh retaliation. They couldn’t take it out on the magical girl herself, so all the charges—disrupting the auction and stealing the merchandise—would fall on Seong-heum.

The truth was sloppy and crude, but an auction house was still a place where information and money gathered. In this slum, he undoubtedly held considerable power and status.

Damn it, I’m in a hurry and this is just annoying…!

This wasn’t the time to calmly explain the situation. I had neither the need nor the obligation. Our relationship had only ever been temporary anyway. Whatever happened to him afterward, I could just ignore it and leave.

But… even if it had been his own choice, he was the one who had staked his entire life to follow me. The thought of letting someone like that fall to rock bottom because of me sat uncomfortably in my chest.

“Keep this.”

I tossed him the ring I’d taken from the train. He snatched the flying object out of the air, then widened his eyes when he saw what it was.

I slowly turned my back on him. Inside the auction house’s hazy darkness, I swept my gaze across the rows of seated spectators, meeting their eyes one by one. And then—

“This man has become a subordinate of mine—Xena, the magical girl of the Ruined House. If any of you are thinking of doing him harm, you’d better be prepared for retaliation of equal measure.”

I spoke quietly, but my voice carried through the tent. To prevent Seong-heum from being lynched, I had to make it crystal clear that he wasn’t just part of my group—he was my person.

“Th-thank you! Thank you so much!”

Seong-heum bowed deeply again, his voice trembling. He knew exactly what it meant to be chosen by a magical girl in this world.

Good. Enough witnesses. All I needed now was one final confirmation from a light-mouthed but reasonably credible witness. There were probably a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠few among the seated crowd, but since I didn’t know their exact positions… I’d go with that one.

I raised my finger and pointed at the emcee on the platform.

“You answer as the representative.”

“Yes! R-retaliation? Perish the thought!”

With the emcee’s reply as the finishing touch, I threw myself through the torn gap in the tent.

The cold, driving rain began hammering my body mercilessly. In an instant my hair and dress were soaked through, clinging heavily to my skin. I ran toward the place where I could sense Pania’s magic.

“Pania! Where are you!”

── Whoosh.

My voice was swallowed by the pouring rain and washed away. Inside the plastic bag in my hand, water was already pooling. On top of that, the wet dress sticking to my waist and legs made it hard to move. Every step my waterlogged shoes took made a disgusting squelching sound.

“Ugh, seriously! This is so annoying!”

I hiked up the dress, wrapped it around my waist, and tied it off roughly. Then I kicked off my shoes and held them in my left hand. The clammy sensation of wet dirt against my black stockings was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠extremely unpleasant.

Running barefoot through the rain with my thighs exposed, looking like a drowned rat. Vulgar appearance, vulgar behavior. I really was the very picture of a crazy bitch.

I followed Pania’s magic for about five blocks when I spotted a familiar pink shape beneath the stairs of a shopping arcade. Pania was crouched on the steps under the eaves, face buried in her knees. A black poodle was pacing anxiously around her.

I stood there in the pouring rain, looking down at the back of Pania’s head.

“What the hell were you thinking? Why did you take the dog?”

“Just leave me alone.”

There wasn’t a trace of strength in Pania’s voice.

“What?”

“You were right, sis. I’m just a vulgar, uneducated bitch. I’m an idiot who only believes what I want to believe, and I got fooled again like a moron this time too.”

I had been ready to hurl ten or a hundred cutting words at her, but seeing her slumped there so lifelessly, I couldn’t open my mouth. I stood frozen in place, staring at her helplessly.

“I told you to go! Leave me alone! I’ll keep making the dolls like I promised! That’s what you came to hear, isn’t it? So please, just leave me the hell alone…”

Pania’s body trembled as she kept her face buried. What was she even babbling about? A fake like her. I, Xena, had come running through the rain to find her, and this was how she acted?

Something began to overlap with Pania’s figure. The way she had been condemned by the slum’s residents and shut herself inside that tent. She had looked exactly like this back then, spoken in exactly that voice.

My eyes suddenly burned. Why did it have to be Pania’s face, Pania’s voice? Both the real and the fake had been turned into this by me. I never wanted to see that look again.

But I didn’t know. I didn’t know the first thing about how to comfort a woman.

Xena didn’t leave. Instead, between the sounds of the pouring rain, the faint rustle of plastic reached her ears. Pania lifted her head just a little.

What she saw was a woman with drenched hair, her dress tied up at the side to shamelessly expose her thighs, standing barefoot and breathing hard as if she had sprinted the whole way. It had to be a dream.

Pania let out a small, bitter laugh. It had to be. There was no way that woman—the one who even hid to drink cola because she thought it was too vulgar, the one who had nothing but her pride—would ever stand in front of her looking like this.

As that thought crossed her mind, Pania’s eyes met Xena’s. Xena stared right back, flipped the plastic bag over, and took out six apples. What followed was—

── Splat!

Six apples slammed into the rainwater pooling on the ground.

“Oops. My hand slipped.”

Xena muttered it like it was nothing, bent down, picked up the apples, and tossed them into the air again. She waved her hands around clumsily.

What is she doing? Idiot.

Pania kept her face buried against her legs but peeked out with one eye to watch.

── Splat!

The apples hit the ground again. Xena bent over once more to pick them up.

Pania finally lifted her face from between her knees. Only then did she understand what Xena was trying to do. She looked at her again.

It wasn’t a dream. The cold rain splashing up to her ankles from the steps made that fact painfully clear.

Xena, in that ridiculous state, was attempting to juggle in the rain, waving her hands around like a clown. She seemed to know how stupid she looked—her face was flushed bright red. Her actions, her soaked clothes, everything combined into the perfect image of a circus performer.

But Pania didn’t laugh. She simply rested her chin on her hand and watched Xena.

Her eyes gradually softened.

It was still pathetic. But at the same time, she could feel the sincerity behind it. She hadn’t said it outright, but Xena clearly felt sorry. After seeing Pania laugh at Kwak Seong-heum’s desperate performance, this was the best she could come up with. She had even thrown away her pride to do it.

Pania realized she herself had been childish. Cutting off all communication without giving the other party even the slightest chance to explain or apologize was no different from a child throwing a tantrum.

“That’s enough now.”

Pania smiled gently, the corners of her mouth lifting, and picked up one of the less-damaged apples from the ground. She took a small bite, then held out the unbitten side to Xena.

“Want some? It’s delicious.”

Xena frowned slightly as she looked at the offered apple. After a moment, the crisp sound of her taking a bite broke the silence.

“It tastes awful. Like dirt and rainwater. What do you take me for, offering me something like this?”

“You knew what it would taste like and ate it anyway.”

Pania chuckled. Xena clicked her tongue and shook her head.

“Shut up. What the hell was that—suddenly grabbing a dog and running off? If you’re going to pull stunts like that, at least say something beforehand.”

“Ah…”

Pania looked around. The dog she had taken, thinking it was Porim, was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nowhere to be seen. It had probably run off into the rain. She thought that was for the best. In a world where people barely had enough to feed themselves, no one would take in a dog, and approaching humans would only turn it into someone’s next meal.

“Let’s go back.”

Xena untied the dress from around her waist, slipped her shoes back on, and spoke.

Pania and I slipped back through the torn gap in the tent. My face still felt burning hot. Had I lost my mind after getting drenched in all that rain? What kind of vulgar display had I just put on…!

Inside the tent, the auction was still in full swing. If anything, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠atmosphere was even more energetic than when we had been there. The area behind the platform was now packed with cages full of dogs and cats. Were they seriously pivoting their entire business to this? The frenzy was almost palpable.

“All right, all right! Our eighth auction item of the day! This one might actually be a real fairy!”

As if. In the original story there had only ever been one fairy—Porim. Apparently unaware that Pania and I had returned, the emcee’s voice burned with even greater fervor. He was even jumping up and down, shaking the cage violently. Just how much were they paying him to generate that kind of passion?

Inside the cage sat a white cat with blue eyes, wearing an utterly indifferent expression. It didn’t seem to care in the slightest that its cage was being rattled. Still… there was something different about this cat. All the other animals looked like they had been snatched off the streets, but this one appeared to be a well-groomed, high-class breed.

What kind of breed is that?

I focused on the inside of the cage and pulled up the information.

Huh?