Tokyo: Magical Girl Shatters My Dream of Going Public

"...What does it take to become a magical girl?"

Chika didn't know when this question had started to linger in her mind.

Surrounded by endless darkness, she simply kept walking forward, when suddenly the sensation under her feet became clear.

That was the familiar texture of the track, so bouncy and resilient.

The view was low, and the scenery on both sides was stretched into blurry bands of color that flew backward.

The wind lashed her face, carrying a scent of grass and rubber granules that she knew all too well.

She was speeding along, getting faster and faster, almost breaking free from the ground's restraints.

It was as if she was born to fly like that.

however.

Snapped--!

At a certain moment, it was as if a taut nerve had suddenly snapped.

The world, rushing by, froze instantly, then collapsed.

A sharp pain exploded in her knee, and she collapsed heavily to the ground. The strength that had been supporting her vanished, and the ground became like quicksand, like an abyss, with raging fire burning the green grass.

She no longer had the strength to stand up.

"What exactly is this...?"

Despair and pain spread through my heart.

Then, she saw the light.

Not far in front of her, a soft yet incredibly dazzling seven-colored light floated, like the core of a star that had fallen to earth.

It slowly rotates, flowing with a warm, honey-like luster full of endless possibilities, as if calling to her, waiting for her touch.

As long as you encounter it, as long as...

However, a dark figure appeared in front of her with lightning speed, snatching the seven-colored crystal despite her cries of pain.

"No--!"

Chika suddenly opened her eyes.

The white ceiling of the small bedroom comes into view, slightly yellowed due to years of disrepair.

The morning light squeezed in through the gaps in the old curtains, cutting out several hazy beams of light in the air, where dust particles danced silently.

My face felt a little cool.

Chika raised her hand and touched a damp spot with her fingertips.

...Did you cry?

Why?

What exactly was that dream...?

She can't remember anymore.

Dreams are always fragmented, without logic, only feelings.

The lingering image of the dream vanished quickly, leaving only a heavy, bittersweet feeling in my heart and a faint, illusory pain in my knee.

She sat up, the thin blanket slipped off, and the chill of the spring morning immediately touched her skin, making her shiver slightly.

That inexplicable sadness, along with the chill, slowly subsided, becoming blurred and elusive.

She turned her head.

Beside her, her younger sister was curled up in the blanket, with only a large bulge, and faint breathing could be heard from inside.

Chika's gaze softened.

She quietly lifted the covers and stepped barefoot onto the cold floor.

She glanced at the small alarm clock.

5: 42.

It's still early.

Moreover, my younger sister has always had trouble getting up in the morning, and with her recent exam preparation, she's been going to bed even later.

Chika didn't make a sound as she skillfully changed into her everyday clothes.

A slightly faded sweatshirt and jeans.

My gaze swept over the low table that doubled as a desk, on which lay a hard-covered notebook and next to it a worn-out pencil.

That's the account book my sister kept.

The densely packed small characters recorded the pre-deposits for water, electricity, food, and tuition, as well as some investment and financial management notes that Qianxia couldn't quite understand.

She always says "we need to plan for the future." In the "monthly balance" column, her younger sister carefully drew a circle with a red pen, and the number inside was so small that it was almost invisible.

Chika watched quietly for a while, then took out the three 10,000 yen bills she had received earlier from her pocket.

She folded the banknote in half, then in half again, until it became a small square, and then gently pressed it under the ledger.

Having done all this, she felt as if she had accomplished a very important task and let out a soft sigh of relief.

Open the door, then quietly close it again.

The old hinges made a barely audible creak.

The apartment corridor remained dark and quiet.

She walked down the stairs. The air was crisp and clean before six in the morning, with a slight odor from the plants.

The streets were deserted, with only the faint sound of a delivery motorcycle engine coming from afar.

She looked up at the sky, which was beginning to lighten, leaving behind the inexplicable dampness of tears and the remnants of her dream, and quickened her pace toward the factory.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"President? It's time to get up!"

Soft calls could be heard repeatedly.

Kurokawa opened his eyes vaguely; several days of staying up all night had left him extremely tired.

In his dazed state, he only saw what appeared to be a figure next to the sofa.

He muttered subconsciously, "Sakura, let me sleep a little longer..."

"President, who is Sakurako?"

"Huh?" Kurokawa snapped back to reality.

He looked up, and in a daze, he realized that Qianxia had knelt on the floor next to the sofa at some point, her hands neatly placed on her knees, her body slightly leaning forward, looking at him with a pair of clear amber eyes.

There was no urging in his eyes, only pure anticipation as if waiting for him to get up.

Kurokawa paused, trying to calm his mind as it emerged from sleep.

He lay back down on the pillow without a word, his arm draped over his forehead, trying to hold onto the last vestiges of sleepiness.

"Good morning, President!" Chika's voice was even softer, but her energetic spirit could still be felt through the air.

"Good morning," Kurokawa replied weakly, his eyes closed.

He could feel that gaze still on him, warm and undeniable.

Looks like I won't be able to sleep.

With a resigned sigh, Kurokawa used his arms to support himself as he sat up.

The thin blanket slipped off his body with the movement, revealing his well-trained and muscular upper body, the lines of his shoulders, neck and arms appearing clear and sharp in the morning light.

He looked around, his eyes somewhat vacant, as if searching for something.

Chika was very perceptive. She immediately got up, ran to a small table not far away, picked up Kurokawa's metal water glass that was worn and had some paint chips, and handed it to him with both hands.

"Thank you." Kurokawa took it and drank several large gulps.

The cool water soothed my parched throat, and my muddled mind began to clear a little.

"What brings you here?" He put down his cup and looked at Chika. "Aren't you going to school today?"

"It's Saturday today, President." Chinatsu tilted her head, a few strands of honey-brown hair brushing against her cheek. "No school today."

Saturday?

Kurokawa paused, his gaze shifting to the calendar on the cabinet.

Saturday, October 4.

He reached out and vigorously rubbed his messy black hair, inwardly complaining.

I've been working day and night assembling that [plugin manufacturing equipment] these past few days, and my sense of time has become completely blurred; I can't even tell what day of the week it is anymore.

"How did you get in?" He remembered that the factory gates had been locked the night before.

"I climbed in through the window!"

Chika pointed to the slightly rusted air vent not far away, her tone carrying a hint of smugness, as if she had found a shortcut.

"There's a cement block over there that you can use to climb up."

Kurokawa looked in the direction she was pointing, and sure enough, the air vent was pushed open halfway.

He sighed silently.

It seems that security is indeed a major problem.

It's fine if Chika manages to sneak in from there, but what if it's not Chika, but something else... or someone else?

"Next time, try to come in through the front door."

"Oh, okay!" Chika immediately straightened her back and answered seriously, her ahoge (cowlick) bobbing up and down.

After answering, she couldn't help but lean closer, her eyes sparkling with an almost overflowing anticipation.

"President...is my combat suit finished?"

These past few days, Qianxia has been rushing to the factory as soon as she gets out of school, her mind filled with thoughts of the combat suit that was promised to her.

Kurokawa had initially thought that seeing her enthusiasm, he would ask her to help him assemble some simple parts.

As a result, the girl lost control of her strength and almost bent a critical energy transmission interface. Kurokawa was so frightened that he immediately revoked all her rights to touch precision parts and only dared to let her do cleaning and handing over tools.

"You've come at just the right time. Your combat suit, and the [Patrol Speed-Up Plugin], were completed last night."

"Really?!" Chika's eyes lit up instantly. She jumped up from the ground, wanting to see for herself.

Kurokawa raised his hand and gestured: "No need to rush, you'll have plenty of time to experience it tonight."

Chinatsu blinked, then realized: "President...you mean..."

"That's right. A new mission has arrived."

Kurokawa picked up his containment manual and turned to the page that recorded containment missions.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Containment mission (please complete before 4:0 on April 27th)

Target location: [Xiapu Lake Environmental Observation Station No. 3]

Mission Difficulty: Nightmare

(Note: An unstable magical field exists in this area, suspected to be reacting to multiple vengeful spirits. Please be fully prepared.)

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"The No. 3 Xiapu Lake Environmental Observation Station..." Kurokawa repeated the place name in a low voice, his eyes calm.

He closed the manual and said.

"Since you've arrived so early, let's not delay any longer. The mission location is in the mountains of Ibaraki Prefecture, quite a distance from here. We need to set off ahead of time to conduct reconnaissance and preparations."

As he spoke, he walked towards the design table and began quickly organizing the equipment he might need to bring.

Kurokawa said, "This is the first time the magic combat suit has been unveiled, so we can't embarrass ourselves."

"yes!"