The magical girls’ faces were pale.
They looked like they wanted to run out immediately but weren’t sure if I would allow it.
Even Hayoon avoided my gaze.
She couldn’t bring herself to say, “Let’s go.”
Her cheerful expression from earlier had vanished, her shoulders sagging with defeat.
What was I supposed to say?
Should I tell them they were no longer magical girls?
Or should I order them to follow my commands as long as they stayed with me?
The latter, or something close to it, had already been said. Because of that, I had done nothing yesterday.
I looked up at the sky.
It was clear. Spring often brings days of fine dust, but for some reason, the sky was pristine.
It had been like this since the Galactic Federation arrived in this country.
They claimed to be improving the planet’s environment and were providing various forms of support.
But they also brought the existence of monsters.
Or rather, people who had the potential to become monsters.
Just as ordinary people have the potential to become criminals.
“…Let’s go.”
In the end, I muttered those words and headed toward the house.
I could hear the footsteps of five people following behind me.
What Happened That Day
Ji-hye still didn’t fully know what had happened that day.
“The patient wasn’t harmed,” was all the hospital staff could say about Ji-hye’s condition.
When asked about the others, the doctors exchanged grim looks but ultimately said, “Everyone is fine.”
The teacher was fine, as were most of the children.
But a few younger kids had issues.
No one knew exactly what kind of gas had been released in the orphanage that day.
Supposedly, it wasn’t harmful to humans, but toxicity is always relative.
A dosage enough to make an adult faint or fall asleep would naturally have a much stronger effect on children.
There were still kids who hadn’t woken up.
The medical staff seemed at a loss about what to do.
Although the situation wasn’t life-threatening, the children remained in a deep “sleep.”
What exactly had happened that day?
What were the intruders trying to do?
Despite what happened at the orphanage, there were no reports or articles in the news.
The children at school only knew that Ji-hye had been hospitalized due to poor health.
Once she realized the situation, Ji-hye didn’t need anyone to tell her what was going on.
“Don’t speak about it.”
That was likely the message.
It was better not to say anything to anyone.
Even the teacher didn’t mention what happened that day.
The orphanage returned to normal at an almost unnatural pace.
There was no shortage of funds for the hospitalized children.
Subsidies were provided, and there was still some money left from what Jieun had earned.
Every broken part of the orphanage was repaired.
The teachers and children tried to move on as if nothing had happened.
Only Ji-hye vaguely suspected that the incident had something to do with Jieun.
Later, Jieun reappeared.
She even fought alongside magical girls against monsters.
And after that… Jieun suddenly disappeared without a trace.
There were no articles.
The ongoing reports of the magical girls’ disappearances suddenly ceased altogether.
However, that didn’t mean stories on the internet or in children’s conversations had vanished entirely.
“They betrayed the Federation.”
“They joined hands with that black magical girl. Are they trying to become criminals?”
Naturally, the rumors that spread in such a situation were mostly provocative and malicious.
Even around Ji-hye, she heard such stories.
There were even rumors about why she had been in the hospital.
Of course, no one directly said anything to her, so she didn’t know the exact content of those rumors.
But regardless of the details, all the rumors boiled down to one question:
Then, who’s going to handle the monsters now?
Maybe the police could manage.
If not, the military might have to step in.
But that would likely result in far more casualties compared to when magical girls stepped in to take the hits.
A monster’s attack could easily kill an ordinary person in one strike.
The Federation remained silent.
The government seemed disinterested from the beginning.
The corporations were busy promoting their own combat units.
The people who had once united in their desire to condemn Jieun now acted as though they had never been involved, as if the whole ordeal had never happened.
Ji-hye felt suffocated.
Ever since Jieun disappeared—no, even before that—Ji-hye had felt this crushing weight in her chest.
Did Jieun know?
That their room had become such a mess?
That the audio equipment and CDs she had cherished so much were destroyed?
Did she know someone had come that day and possibly done something to Ji-hye’s body?
Ji-hye was scared.
Jieun was the only person she could talk to about it.
Someone who had slept beside her in the same room every night, family in all but name, even sharing a similar name.
But Jieun was gone.
Unreachable.
And ever since, her chest had been—
Bzzzz.
Her phone vibrated.
It wasn’t just Ji-hye’s phone.
Phones across the classroom, even the teacher’s, started ringing.
The teacher pulled out their phone.
Ji-hye did the same, along with the other students.
It was an emergency alert.
A monster had appeared, and the text warned people to stay away from the area.
The teacher, acting as though it were nothing, put the phone down and resumed the lesson.
Rrrrk.
But Ji-hye abruptly stood up.
She wasn’t sure what she was thinking.
It was still class time.
“What’s the matter?”
The teacher looked at her with wide eyes, their expression entirely neutral, free of any malice.
The world was like that.
Even though Jieun had disappeared.
Even though magical girls had disappeared.
People acted as though everything was fine, as though it had been that way all along.
Even after all the help they’d received.
Even after causing so much suffering.
“A-ah, um…” Ji-hye stammered.
Sweat trickled down her back beneath her uniform. Without realizing it, she lied.
“I… I need to use the bathroom.”
A few students chuckled, not out of malice but simply because the situation seemed a bit funny.
If Jieun hadn’t disappeared, if those events hadn’t happened, and if it had been someone else who stood up instead of her,
Ji-hye might have laughed, too.
“Alright, go ahead,” the teacher said with a small smile.
Ji-hye bowed quickly and left the classroom.
Now, sweat was running down her forehead.
Should I go?
To where the monster was?
Should I go there?
Last time, I only caused trouble by getting caught.
But she couldn’t sit still.
If she didn’t go, she wouldn’t be able to see Jieun.
Even if Jieun didn’t come, there was a chance she might.
So Ji-hye walked.
To the end of the hallway, to the bathroom door.
But she didn’t go inside.
Instead, she turned toward the stairs and ran.
As quickly as she could, she went down the stairs and bolted out of the school.
She sprinted across the playground.
No one called out to her.
No one even realized she had left.
Ji-hye ran.
She didn’t have time to look back or second-guess herself.
The security guard at the main gate seemed to say something, but she ignored him.
Because Jieun… Jieun might disappear again.
Before Ji-hye could even speak to her, she might vanish once more.
No, it was certain.
The people around them would make sure of it.