Chapter 49 : Things That Shouldn’t Be Touched (3)

They gave a hint.

Hayoon understood what it meant.

At first, the kids tried not to say anything, glancing at each other nervously.

Even the ones who initially slipped up in their words started to backtrack, as if realizing something was off about Hayoon.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll find out on my own.”

When Hayoon said that, they eventually started to talk.

In truth, Hayoon’s method of “finding out” was limited to meeting Jieun.

The other party seemed to know that would eventually happen.

Maybe it was because they understood that Hayoon’s feelings toward Jieun weren’t entirely hostile.

The “hint” they mentioned was, as they called it, exactly that—just a hint.

For example, bumping shoulders while walking by.

Taking someone’s textbook.

Writing a note and slipping it into a desk.

Calling someone out and telling them to stay out of sight.

Hearing these confessions from the kids, Hayoon knew the stories were probably downplayed from what had actually happened.

Taking a textbook likely didn’t end with just taking it.

They probably didn’t return it properly, and it wouldn’t be surprising if they had torn it to shreds.

Hayoon knew how meticulous Jieun was about taking notes in her textbooks and notebooks.

The notes probably contained words that should never have been written.

Jieun must have quietly thrown them away somewhere without reacting.

Or did it really stop at notes?

Could they have put something else in her desk?

Bumping shoulders—did it truly end there?

Were there any hurtful words that followed?

Or did it escalate further?

Calling someone out and telling them not to be bold—it was the same.

While listening to the story, Hayoon remained silent.

At first, she was angry.

No, she was furious throughout the entire conversation.

She wanted to stand up and shout, to tell them never to come near her again.

But—

No matter how much they bullied Jieun, could it ever match how much Hayoon had tormented her?

Despite being bullied, Jieun had always faced Hayoon with a calm expression.

Even the day after being beaten and injured by Hayoon, she was the same.

Perhaps the reason she could endure such bullying was that she was already used to far worse.

Hayoon wasn’t sure how she managed to return to the classroom and sit down.

The kids who had eaten lunch with her didn’t talk to her for the rest of the day.

Other students, sensing the tense atmosphere, also avoided her.

Even though it was the first time in a while that she had the quiet time she always wanted, Hayoon’s mind didn’t settle at all.

All of Jieun’s misfortunes were tied to Hayoon.

Jieun had been injured and unhappy as a fighter.

She had been ostracized and tormented at school.

All because of her connection to Hayoon.

Hayoon hadn’t known anything.

While Jieun was suffering,

Hayoon was blissfully unaware, simply happy to spend time with her.

Even now, that was the case.

When Jieun defeated the monstrous enemy, Hayoon’s hope burned fiercely just because Jieun had protected her.

It had wiped away her concerns in an instant.

But that shouldn’t have been the case.

It didn’t mean Jieun had forgiven her.

What’s more, Jieun was shot immediately afterward—by the very people she had helped.

It was understandable that Jieun was angry.

In fact, it was a miracle that no one else got hurt in that situation.

What if it had been Hayoon?

Wouldn’t she have collapsed from the overwhelming betrayal, losing all hope and the will to do anything?

Hayoon didn’t know where Jieun was.

But she was sure Jieun wasn’t in a place of comfort, either physically or emotionally.

And—

The biggest cause of it all was Hayoon herself.

No magical girls had testified about that incident.

Because they had stayed silent, Jieun ended up being branded as a terrorist.

It was absurd, logically speaking.

A single high school student—someone who lacked time and resources—couldn’t possibly prepare enough explosives to destroy part of the largest complex owned by the country’s largest corporation.

Hayoon had seen that day with her own eyes.

Jieun genuinely hadn’t known anything.

She had to do something.

Instead of wallowing in self-pity, she needed to think of a way—

“Hayoon.”

Lost in thought, Hayoon heard someone calling her from behind.

When she turned around, there stood Iris… no, Jo-ah.

Hayoon blinked.

They weren’t at school anymore.

Sometime during the day, class had ended, and Hayoon was on her way home.

Jo-ah must have been doing the same.

There were no other students around.

Perhaps they avoided her, sensing her mood.

The kids who had eaten lunch with her earlier might never come near her again.

“Can we talk for a moment?” Jo-ah said to the dazed Hayoon.

Hayoon nodded.

Jo-ah started walking first, and Hayoon followed silently.

The faces of magical girls were already well-known to the public.

In crowded areas, people would gather to catch a glimpse of them.

But not near this school.

Magical girls were a familiar sight here, and people’s interest had waned.

It wasn’t easy for stalker-like figures to appear either, given the girls’ reputation for strength.

Jo-ah led Hayoon to a café near the school.

Usually, this time of day, cafés would be bustling with students heading home.

Hayoon rarely went to cafés alone, as she had always walked home with Jieun.

But the place Jo-ah brought her to wasn’t crowded.

In fact, it didn’t even have a visible sign.

“It’s on the upper floor and only accessible to people who know about it. But don’t worry, it’s not a suspicious place,”

Jo-ah said, naturally guiding her to a table in the corner, far from the windows.

Inside the café, there were a few students, most of whom seemed to have come alone or in pairs.

None of them were familiar faces.

In addition to the students, there were a few adults scattered about, sitting by themselves.

The adults didn’t look around or engage in conversation.

They either had their eyes closed, listening to the café’s music, or were absorbed in their smartphones or books.

“This place is…”

“It’s hard to find unless someone tells you about it. Most of the people here are a bit unusual.”

“…I see.”

Hayoon gaped at Jo-ah’s words.

The café was slightly dim, but it didn’t feel gloomy—more like the lighting was just soft.

Behind the counter, old LP records were tightly packed on the shelves.

“I never thought there’d be a place like this near the school.”

“Precisely because it’s near the school that it stays unnoticed.”

Jo-ah placed her bag on a seat and turned around.

“What would you like to drink? Though it’s all just coffee.”

“I’ll have whatever you recommend.”

At Hayoon’s response, Jo-ah shrugged.

Hayoon wasn’t familiar with coffee.

In fact, unless she was with Jieun, she rarely had it.

Personally, she didn’t enjoy bitter flavors much.

Still, she could drink it when the situation called for it and adapt to the atmosphere.

As for the coffee Jo-ah brought back, Hayoon couldn’t tell if it was particularly good or not.

“How is it?”

“It’s nice.”

Jo-ah didn’t react much to her answer, as if the response was expected.

As Hayoon thought, “At least I didn’t say it wasn’t good,”

Jo-ah’s expression changed slightly.

Her usual somewhat aloof look gave way to a more serious, contemplative expression.

Hayoon stayed silent, waiting for Jo-ah to speak.

“What do you think about Jung Jieun?”

“Huh?”

Jo-ah’s sudden question left Hayoon momentarily stunned.

“You don’t think of her as just another friend, do you?” Jo-ah asked, staring intently at Hayoon.

Hayoon tried to gauge JJo-ah’s intentions.

Jo-ah furrowed her brows as she stared, seemingly a little upset, though it was hard to read her exact emotions.

This expression was one she often wore.

“Well, it’s fine if you don’t answer. Your reaction just now is enough.”

Jo-ah leaned back against her chair, crossing her legs.

Hayoon felt a bit uneasy.

Jo-ah had recognized Jieun as a fighter before, noting the scratches on her helmet.

She also knew that the two didn’t have a good relationship, as evidenced by her grumbling after battles.

If Jo-ah intended to antagonize Jieun, Hayoon wouldn’t be able to let that happen.

Jo-ah glanced around.

No one seemed to be paying attention to them.

Still, perhaps feeling a bit cautious, Jo-ah uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, meeting Hayoon’s eyes.

Her expression had changed again—this time, she looked uneasy.

Why was her expression shifting so quickly? Hayoon suspected it was an attempt to act but failing.

Jo-ah had moments like that.

“Are you just going to let things stay as they are?” Jo-ah asked seriously.

“…As they are?”

“You know what I mean. We all know.”

Hayoon finally understood what Jo-ah was getting at—she was talking about Jieun.

“We all know, don’t we? It’s obvious that she couldn’t have been behind that terrorist attack.”

Yes, they all knew.

It was impossible for an ordinary high school girl—one who was almost always forced into group activities—to obtain that amount of explosives.

“But we still haven’t come forward to clear her name.”

After a brief pause, Jo-ah continued,

“If we truly are righteous beings, shouldn’t we have revealed the truth by now?”

Jo-ah didn’t seem to be blaming Hayoon, but rather seeking counsel.

Magical girls often had points of contention with each other.

Delphinium and Dahlia clashed because of overlapping roles.

Rose was somewhat better, though she too had conflicts before Hayoon joined them.

Iris had always been a bit of a lone wolf, striving for perfection and naturally becoming closest to Blossom, who debuted around the same time.

Perhaps it was that same stubborn nature that kept Iris—Jo-ah—dwelling on these concerns.

Hayoon recalled how, on that day, Iris hadn’t shot during the chaos.

Perhaps she had been deliberating even then.

“It won’t be easy…” Jo-ah said, furrowing her brows.

“And yeah, if we act rashly, we might lose everything—the circuits, our titles as magical girls, and perhaps even face ridicule.”

At Jo-ah’s grave expression, Hayoon pressed her lips together.

Jo-ah, despite her occasional grumbling as Iris, clearly took pride in her role.

Losing that must be a terrifying prospect.

Yet, she was still grappling with it.

What about Hayoon?

She had done nothing, hiding behind excuses and self-pity.

Jieun… was innocent.

She was simply cornered, struggling desperately.

If blame were to be placed, it would lie with everything surrounding her—

The Federation.

The corporation.

And themselves, the ones working within it.

“I understand,” Hayoon nodded.

“Let’s find a way. But you’re right—if we act impulsively, we could lose everything and even be branded as traitors.”

If the truth led to Hayoon being ostracized, would it be unfair?

No, she didn’t think so.

Hayoon had been complicit in hiding the truth, letting fear and indecision hold her back.

Every day of delay meant another day of suffering for Jieun.

It was absurd to think of forgiveness now.

Why had it taken so long to come to this realization?

Perhaps it was because she finally understood—

That she was no different from those who had tormented Jieun.

The unilateral violence, the neglect.

Quitting as a magical girl was terrifying.

It had brought her her parents’ approval and kept her peers from bullying her.

But losing Jieun forever was something she couldn’t bear.

And, she hated herself for trying to weigh Jieun’s existence against the other things she held dear.

That’s why.

“Alright. Let’s do it.”

“What?”

Even though she was the one who brought it up, Jo-ah looked utterly shocked when Hayoon agreed.

“But once we speak out, things will change a lot,” Hayoon said, looking at Jo-ah seriously.

“Whether people believe it or not, some will take it as truth just because we said it. There might be debates about it on various broadcasts.”

Jo-ah ’s face turned pale. It wasn’t hard to imagine.

After all, from a moral standpoint, staying silent about the truth had been wrong from the beginning.

“But before we speak, we need to ask the others first,” Hayoon said calmly.

Magical girls weren’t just the two of them.

They couldn’t claim to speak on behalf of all magical girls without consensus.

“What if they oppose it?”

“Then we’ll speak out separately,” Hayoon replied.

Jo-ah fell silent.

“Not everyone may join us. Those who don’t speak out might retain their status as magical girls.”

“But…”

“This isn’t about keeping it buried forever, is it?” Hayoon said.

Jo-ah stared at her for a while and then nodded.

“You’re right about that.”

“Let’s talk to everyone first, and then decide,” Hayoon said, lifting her coffee cup.

The coffee tasted especially bitter on her tongue.

On the way home after parting with Hayoon, Jo-ah tried to sort out her tangled thoughts.

She was the one who had brought it up, so why had it become Hayoon’s decision?

Though she didn’t want to admit it, perhaps deep down, Jo-ah had hoped Hayoon would dissuade her.

She wanted someone to tell her that her idea was ridiculous and that they should focus on solving the incident first, then defend Jieun’s innocence in court or elsewhere.

But even that, she realized, was a form of escape.

The longer they waited, the more an innocent person would suffer.

And the longer they stayed silent, the more likely it was that Jieun’s innocence would become irretrievable.

So far, no one had died because of Jieun.

Illegal trespassing or property damage was nothing compared to murder.

Moreover, if the truth came out, public opinion would likely target the real culprits rather than Jieun.

Magical girls, a group that operated in a legal gray area, were tolerated because their enemies were often corrupt corporations like Noir Corporation, and they acted to protect the oppressed.

They could even deal with monsters without causing harm, making them unique in their role.

That was why Jo-ah had spoken to Hayoon.

“Was it just about dragging someone else in as an accomplice?”

She thought she had reflected deeply, but perhaps she simply wanted someone else to make the decision for her.

To push the responsibility onto someone she trusted.

Walking silently for a while, Jo-ah suddenly thought of “that magical girl,” Jung Jieun.

Her mind overlapped the image of Jieun with that infuriating fighter she had encountered so many times.

She was sure now—they were the same.

The demeanor, the specific details.

Jo-ah wasn’t the type to easily acknowledge others.

Even she admitted she was stiff and inflexible at times.

But every time she faced that fighter, she wanted to win.

Despite losing repeatedly, despite being utterly beaten, that fighter always got back up. It was almost awe-inspiring.

It wasn’t out of fondness, but when that fighter didn’t show up, Jo-ah sometimes found herself wondering,

“Did they quit?”

Yes.

It wasn’t just about their appearance overlapping.

Even in this situation, the image of someone refusing to give up and continuing to fight came to her mind.

She didn’t know what to call the emotion rising within her.

She still felt uneasy.

She still disliked the situation.

When the truth came out, she would have to accept that the people they had pushed away were just like

Jieun—ordinary citizens with unyielding dreams.

She had never considered that before.

Still, even so, the innermost part of Jo-ah, the stubborn core of her being, couldn’t ignore it.

Jo-ah shivered slightly.

She couldn’t imagine what would happen next.

What she hated most was herself, unable to stick to her beliefs and ultimately leaving the decision to someone else.