Remember the End (4)
"Before that."
"Pardon?"
"Let's get you out of those clothes first."
She had a point. Wandering around like this would look more than a little strange. An outfit of pure white from head to toe, complete with seams that looked like someone had stitched together scraps of fabric — anyone who saw me would probably assume I had a few screws loose.
"The problem is, I don't have any other clothes."
"..."
So give me some, then.
At that shameless little demand, the light in Emerald's eyes dimmed for a second. What? I was a perfectly good abandoned child whose mother had dumped her and left her with nothing. A rising magical girl could spare a few outfits, couldn't she?
"Haah. Follow me."
For someone telling me to follow, she spent the next stretch of sidewalk hunched over a map app, searching for the nearest clothing store. I trailed after her for a while.
"Welcome. Is there anything particular you're looking for?"
"Something comfortable she can put on right away should be fine."
"Of course. Right this way, please."
And of course the place we arrived at was a women's clothing boutique. Was I violently opposed to the idea? Not exactly. But the dissonance still hit hard. Women's clothing. The words themselves felt like they didn't belong anywhere near me.
"Honestly, what I'm wearing is already pretty comfortable."
"I'm the one who's uncomfortable. Stop talking and put these on."
Emerald flung garments at me one after another. I shook my head inwardly. Maybe I shouldn't think this as the person receiving free clothes, but her attitude was thoroughly impure — and I didn't like what she was handing me, either.
Something basic enough to walk around outside in should have been plenty, right?
When she told me to change, I'd been picturing a plain T-shirt and jeans. What Emerald actually piled into my arms went far past "unremarkable" and straight into "committed." Just looking at the clothes in my hands was enough to make my forearms break out in hives.
"I'm done."
"...Did you put those on with your eyes closed?"
"I've never worn anything like this before."
Even I could see how slapdash it looked, but there was genuinely nothing I could do about it. You needed prior experience with clothes like these to wear them properly. Emerald's expression of pure shock at the sight of me was a little hard to understand, though.
"Haah. I'll dress you myself. Back into the fitting room."
"I'm not a child. You really don't need to—"
"Get. In."
Yes, ma'am.
The atmosphere around her suggested she might open fire with a magic blast if I kept talking, so I cut the commentary short and hurried back into the booth.
Isn't it enough for clothes to just cover the places that need covering?
I clucked my tongue to myself and stared into the mirror while Emerald started fixing my outfit. Somehow it was getting better. No — it was definitely better than when I'd done it myself.
"I just had a thought."
"Go on."
"Isn't this outfit a little too floaty? I don't think something like this suits me at all."
A frilled blouse. A pleated skirt that fell all the way to my ankles. This wasn't a villainess costume out of some medieval fantasy novel — what even was this? My body wasn't uncomfortable, but my mind was miserable.
"Here. Put these on too."
"You're not using me for doll dress-up, are you?"
"I simply want you to walk around looking at least somewhat like a person."
There was a barb in that. Ah. Right. Up until a moment ago, I hadn't been dressed like a person at all. If you had to pick a category, my previous look had been closer to "monster."
I took the socks she held out without a word and heaved a sigh.
I genuinely can't tell whether she's trying to be nice or not...
If she was going to treat me like a person, I wished she'd pick one attitude and stick with it. That was my honest take.
Anyway. Emerald seemed to have an alarming amount of interest in what I wore. Did she really need to stay in the fitting room with me just so I could put on socks?
"Excuse me. Are you planning to stare the whole time?"
"I have no idea what you might try in a fitting room."
Funny, considering she'd sent me in alone the first time. I lodged the objection silently and swapped my socks under her watchful eye.
Why is she so obsessed with white, anyway?
White top. White socks. I hated white — it showed every stain.
I grumbled to myself and looked in the mirror. A flat-chested pretty girl dressed like a villainous young lady stared straight back at me.
I think I get why Emerald wants me in 'human' clothes.
It hadn't been emphasized much in the original story, but the "pretty girl" part had always been there. I just never expected to experience that particular detail quite like this.
Still... something's missing.
Dressed like this, I had none of the Apocalypse presence I'd known from the original. No uniform. A villainess outfit instead. No hat. And most importantly — no twin tails. No wonder looking in the mirror didn't give me that so this is Apocalypse in the real world feeling.
"Emerald. Do you happen to have a hair tie?"
"I have a spare... You do know how to tie your hair, right?"
"More or less."
She was talking like I was some bedridden old woman. Granted, I had never actually tied my own hair, so I couldn't claim total confidence.
I took the hair tie from her and stepped back into the fitting room. I could hear her asking why I needed to go all the way inside just to put my hair up —
If you're that annoyed about it, come in yourself.
Part of me wanted Emerald to be the one who put my hair into twin tails. But showing her the finished product after doing it myself seemed more likely to get a delicious reaction. And if she despaired a little, even better.
"Urgh..."
It didn't take long for my grand plan to hit a snag. The reason: tying hair was harder than expected. Tying it into two rough sections wasn't that difficult. Getting it to look the way I remembered — that was the problem.
Strands sticking out every which way...
I clearly had no talent for being a girl. The only gift I possessed without knowing it might have been my talent for being a monster.
Well. This should be good enough.
The only thing occupying my thoughts right then was the urge to mess with Emerald. I was honestly curious. I might catch a magic blast for the trouble, but this particular stunt was worth the risk.
The curtain whipped open.
"What on earth are you still doing in here, your hair—"
"..."
"..."
Emerald barging into the fitting room had not been part of the plan. Under the vacant stare she dragged over me, I carefully averted my eyes. She was quieter than I'd expected. Quieter — and looking like she might commit murder.
"Hhhh..."
"...Are you all right?"
She absolutely was not. The cold sweat, the hand pressed to her forehead — she must have been hit by a wave of trauma about Apocalypse.
A low hum stirred inside me.
Gourmet. Pure gourmet.
And above all, that despair. It was richer by an entire order of magnitude than anything I'd tasted from the magical girl in the Shelter. My Despair Circuit revived on the spot. Emerald recovered too quickly for it to fill my stomach, but it was enough to feel like I'd eaten something. Like snatching one free sample off a supermarket tray.
"That hairstyle doesn't suit you. Take it down. Now."
"I actually think it suits me more than—"
Ow— ow, ow, ow?!
Before I could finish, Emerald was yanking the twin tails free by force. Who knew — even a monster's scalp hurt when someone ripped its hair out. I rubbed my stinging head and still managed a small, unexpected satisfaction at the discovery.
"Never style your hair like that again. Do you understand me?"
"..."
Faced with the force of an angry Emerald, I finally nodded. Humiliating. A monster cowed into submission by a magical girl's intimidation. If the Doctor had seen this, he would have lost his mind.
"But it was the hairstyle my mother always did for me."
"..."
Aha. That look — like I'd just punched her. It wasn't even a lie. The Doctor really had always done my hair that way. Not "often." From her first appearance to her last moment, Apocalypse had been in twin tails every single time.
Thinking about it that way is a little sad.
I'd basically lost the identity of the character called Apocalypse. Could you even call a long-haired, soft-spoken girl in a uniform who wasn't in twin tails by that name anymore? At this point, the only thing I still had in common with Apocalypse was being a monster. Which was probably why Emerald kept second-guessing me so hard.
"I'm sorry. That hairstyle... I have some trauma around it."
Still. One thing. Emerald's sincere apology was more than worth it to me. A magical girl apologizing to the monster that ended the world.
Heh. Just imagining it is thrilling...
It wasn't the kind of despair that could fill a stomach — but the mental satisfaction was more than enough.
