I’m not foolish enough to act immediately just because I’ve drafted a plan.
Of course, I can be impulsive.
Like the time I stormed the headquarters.
But back then, there weren’t many alternatives.
I couldn’t hide forever at Pang-Pang’s house.
The longer I stayed in the middle of the city, the higher the chances of being discovered.
Above all, I felt guilty towards Pang-Pang.
I didn’t leave expecting things to improve this much, but since they have, I need to be more cautious with my plans.
First, we target other critical facilities of the corporation before hitting the complex.
Ideally, we confuse Noir Corporation about our true intentions.
“The headquarters building is in front of Seoul City Hall. Honestly, it’s not as significant as you might think. It’s just a headquarter; actual research or design doesn’t happen there. Of course, you can’t exclude management and strategy from a corporation, but that’s not what you need, is it?”
That’s true.
It might be the most important building for the corporation.
It’s where decisions are made about the company’s direction, and the words spoken there can make stock prices rise or fall.
After all, how many corporations can run without money?
“So, the corporation would have considered the possibility. Since you managed to escape intact, they’d logically assume your ultimate target is the complex. That’s the rational thought process because you have to win.”
“And then?”
“You show them you’re not entirely rational. Let’s be honest, you don’t usually act rationally anyway. The company will definitely fall for it after watching your behavior.”
Hmm.
I don’t like the way that sounds.
Even if I’m aware of it, being pointed out by someone else feels entirely different.
From James’s perspective, the corporation doesn’t think I would attack after carefully planning and contemplating.
“Using what they perceive as your weakness as your strength is one way, don’t you think?”
“So, make them believe I’m irrationally attacking random places and ignoring the most critical points?”
“Exactly. Isn’t that what you want? Destroying things without reason, venting your aimless anger? Especially when the targets are the ones who put you in this situation—why would you refuse?”
I couldn’t outright deny it, so I hesitated for a while.
“Well, fine.”
In the end, I nodded.
What else could I do?
Stress with nowhere to go is easiest to forget when you act without thinking. So far… I’ve felt that quite a lot.
“But, it’s not just me now. The magical girls are moving with me. What if the corporation assumes that the magical girls came up with the plan and told me? You’re here too.”
“Then show that the group is divided. You run wild, and the magical girls desperately try to stop you.”
“That…”
But someone interrupted James.
Hayoon raised her hand slightly and looked back and forth between me and James with uneasy eyes.
“Wouldn’t that worsen Jieun’s situation?”
“There’s no worse image to fall into, is there? Besides, if we succeed and prove that we were in the right all along, the bad image will quickly reverse. I’d like to remind you all that we’ve already crossed a point of no return to some extent.”
Hayoon closed her mouth at James’s words.
After scanning the surroundings to see if anyone else would object, James slowly continued.
“And while we’re at it, it would be good for you magical girls to show that you’re also full of rage. The more fake targets, the better.”
I looked at the kids.
Everyone looked uncertain, unsure of how to respond.
Even if it was just a job, entangled in politics, or stuck with a semi-realistic setting because of the webtoon’s tone—magical girls were still magical girls.
They were brilliant individuals who used hope as energy to face their enemies.
It was natural for them to react like this when told to go around destroying things purely out of emotion.
“For now, we have some leeway, so take some time to think it over. If there are any shortcomings, let me know.”
Only after I said that did the kids nod.
James called it a deception operation to achieve the goal, but the reality was slightly different.
In the end, it meant that for my goal, they would also have to get more deeply involved.
Or rather, they were already so entangled that it was unclear if they could even pull out anymore.
“Then, I’ll narrow down the targets. Gathering information will take a few days at the least. In the meantime, carry on as usual. As you all know by now, please don’t venture far.”
Should I ask James to make me a game console?
Not a fancy modern console, but maybe a simple black-and-white toy-like game device.
Come to think of it, I’ve never had something like that in this life.
Forget consoles; I didn’t even own a personal computer.
If I had homework,
I used the shared computer at the orphanage, and buying one for myself—even if I had the money—felt like stepping on eggshells.
Usually, I spent time talking about various things with Ji-hye, or went out somewhere.
Someone once said that farming requires great diligence.
Farming is, in a way, a battle against nature.
What humans consider nutritious is also nutritious for other creatures.
Land that is fertile for crops is also fertile for other life.
But we grew our fields with magic.
To be fair, “we” wasn’t anything grand.
Even if I didn’t pay attention, Dahlia and Delphinium handled everything on their own.
So the phrase “you need to be diligent” felt distant from me.
Rose went around fixing up the house.
Although she was still of an age to be called a young girl, Rose had a sturdy body even without being a magical girl, and she showed her strength when it came to physical labor.
I occasionally joined her to help out, though Rose usually handled the heavy lifting.
Iris worked with James to create and tweak various equipment.
James focused on “information” and “concealment,” and the two of them put their heads together to improve the situation.
While we didn’t have the components to make something like a TV yet, they managed to develop equipment that let us access audio information more than expected.
Hayoon meticulously sought out areas for improvement.
Even when it involved unpleasant tasks, she always smiled and volunteered, and her proactive attitude helped us get along without much conflict.
In such an atmosphere, my temper didn’t dare rear its ugly head.
I was mindful of the mood, at least. Living in their space as I did, throwing tantrums would just be disgraceful.
I had already done so once before and felt it deeply.
If anything, it would have been easier if they got angry and distanced themselves from me.
As the day passed and the sun began to set, I went to wash up.
Hayoon and I were always together during those times.
I could never fully relax during those moments.
I would always sit with my back turned to her, and I assumed Hayoon did the same.
After scrubbing myself as clean as possible and drying my hair thoroughly, there wasn’t much left to do.
I went outside and wandered the surrounding area to pass the time.
During work, there wasn’t much time for casual conversation, and I could pretend to be focused on something to avoid talking.
But during downtime, it was different.
The magical girls would chat about various things, sometimes trying to include me in their conversations.
I wasn’t used to that and found it uncomfortable, so walking around our deserted neighborhood became a kind of routine.
And, every time I stepped out of the house, there was always someone quietly following behind me.
The soft sound of footsteps—it was, of course, Hayoon.
When she first came here, Hayoon wasn’t in the best condition, but at some point, she got well enough to hum little tunes.
I could vaguely sense that it was “because she was with me.”
But what am I to her?
Still, it wasn’t something I could say to her face.
She would surely look hurt just hearing those words.
The village wasn’t large, so it didn’t take more than ten minutes to walk from end to end.
When I reached the far end, I would sit on an old wooden bench nearby.
The kind of bench you’d expect to see in an old-school movie—its paint was peeling, and it looked a bit pale.
We’d found it in a dusty corner of the ruins and brought it here.
The road leading out of the forest was somewhat open, but at this time, it was just dark.
Occasionally, the headlights of passing cars would remind us that we weren’t entirely disconnected from civilization.
But those fleeting lights only made the forest seem darker once they were gone.
Hayoon sat beside me.
She had brought her own chair here at some point, placing it next to mine, and every time I came, she would sit by me.
Though we each had our own chair, the distance between us felt almost too close.
Hayoon leaned against me gently.
Creak.
The chair groaned under the slight weight.
Hayoon’s hand rested on top of mine, which was on my lap, and slowly moved along my skin, intertwining her fingers with mine.
Her fingers slid in between mine, locking together.
Perhaps because they had just been warmed by the water, her hands were impossibly warm and soft.
Again, the scent of flowers brushed past my nose.
I was now certain that this wasn’t just the smell of shampoo.
This fragrance lingered on her even when she hadn’t washed.
Why did I only notice it now? It wasn’t like we’d never hugged before.
Come to think of it, outside of moments like this, we never had a reason to be so close.
Both Hayoon and I usually kept our distance.
There wasn’t a specific reason—it just felt like the natural thing to do.
So, whenever our bodies did touch, I was too tense to notice trivial things like scent.
Had Hayoon always smelled this good?
Was I just oblivious, or was it that her fragrance had always been so faint that I never caught it?
The same thought returned, as it always did when Hayoon sat so close beside me.
Why?
Does this mean I’m someone irreplaceable to her?
I opened my mouth to say something but quickly closed it again.
Hayoon also stayed silent for a long time.
She made no move to let go of my hand.
How much time had passed?
It felt like I shouldn’t check the clock, so I just sat there, frozen in place.
I’d already lost my temper yesterday. I couldn’t afford to do so again today.
I was already a disgrace—I didn’t want to sink any lower.
I simply mulled over an incomprehensible feeling that my head couldn’t quite grasp.
“This has happened before,” Hayoon said suddenly.
“This has happened before?” I reflexively echoed.
Not caring that I didn’t remember, she continued calmly.
“Yes.”
“When?”
She didn’t answer. She simply leaned against me, as if to soak in my warmth.
By the time Hayoon eventually stood up, my shoulder was slightly damp.
I hesitated, wondering if I should go wash again.
It reminded me of something from my childhood—when I was in middle school.
Compared to elementary school, Hayoon felt much more pressure as a middle schooler.
Before she became a magical girl, during her first year of middle school, when she received her first regular exam scores.
Her scores were in the 90s, but her parents were far from satisfied.
Their expectations always aimed higher.
Even objectively excellent grades and rankings weren’t enough—they demanded that those numbers never drop.
Hayoon tried her best.
She was talented and always worked hard to meet her parents’ expectations.
On top of her regular studies, she had to attend cram schools and practice for piano competitions, leaving her with almost no personal time.
There was no room to prioritize one thing over another because everything had to be perfect.
As she stopped playing with friends, they naturally began to drift away.
Maintaining her grades led to jealousy and resentment from others.
“She’s overdoing it.”
“All she does is study.”
“Guess studying is more important than friends.”
Quitting something she had started wasn’t an option for someone like Hayoon.
Then, for the first time, her grades dropped—during the first test of her second year.
Her parents didn’t yell, but their disappointment was evident.
Questions like, “Have you not been feeling well lately?” and “Is there something distracting you?” felt like needles.
Both were true.
She was overworked, stressed, and had too much on her plate to focus properly.
But saying so wouldn’t change anything.
“Want to take a walk?”
That’s what Jieun had said to her during that time.
To Hayoon, Jieun seemed endlessly free, yet that freedom never took her away from Hayoon’s side.
When Hayoon stayed late at school to study, Jieun stayed with her.
When Hayoon seemed troubled, Jieun would ask what was on her mind.
If Hayoon sat alone somewhere, Jieun would silently sit beside her.
After school, Jieun had grabbed Hayoon’s hand and said those words.
“Let’s take a walk.”
Even before Hayoon could say she had to go to cram school, Jieun had already led her to an unfamiliar place.
They were simply walking—nothing more.
Without taking the bus home, they arrived at a walking trail.
Jieun plopped down on one of the benches there, patting the spot beside her.
“Sit here.”
Confused, Hayoon sat down.
Jieun didn’t say a word—for a long time.
She simply stayed, as if to say, “I’m here with you.”
And then, at some point, Hayoon found herself sharing all sorts of things with Jieun.
Most of it was complaints about her current situation.
Hayoon was spilling everything out, even surprising herself at how much she had been holding in.
She hadn’t even realized she had those thoughts.
Jieun listened silently, without interrupting, taking in every word until the end.
Only after getting everything off her chest did Hayoon blush, embarrassed that she had said such things to her friend.
Was Jieun disgusted?
Would she, like others, grow tired of it all and leave her behind?
But Jieun sat in thought for a few minutes before suddenly speaking.
“Then let’s go to high school together.”
“What?”
Had they talked about that?
Oh, maybe they had.
They attended a regular middle school nearby.
Jieun seemed to live close by, as they ended up going to the same school, just like in elementary school.
Hayoon’s parents wanted her to attend a different high school, and going there would naturally mean parting ways with the few friends she still had.
“Then let’s just go together. You’re studying… and doing well.”
“Still…”
Hayoon stopped herself from saying more.
“Why not? My grades are high enough,” Jieun said confidently.
Hayoon couldn’t respond.
Slowly, a warm feeling welled up in her chest.
“And since you skipped cram school today, want me to go with you and get scolded too?”
“…No, it’s fine.”
“If worst comes to worst, just use my name. I can take the blame for you.”
“It’s fine.”
This time, her “It’s fine” was sincere.
Even in moments when they couldn’t meet often, Jieun always stayed with her as much as she could, even waiting until school was over so they could walk home together.
Seeing how much Jieun cared when she was struggling, Hayoon thought she couldn’t ask for anything more.
“Should we go now?”
Jieun asked, her expression awkward and apologetic, as if realizing she had taken too long to suggest it.
The light from the streetlamp illuminated her face, which bore a shy smile.
“No, it’s probably almost over anyway,” Hayoon replied and leaned her head on Jieun’s shoulder.
“Let’s just stay a little longer.”
“Alright.”
They stayed like that for a long time.
Hayoon became a magical girl about six months later.
Just by becoming a magical girl and continuing in that role, her parents seemed to be satisfied in a different way.
When she told them she didn’t want to attend cram school anymore, they allowed it.
Thanks to that, she had more time to spend with Jieun.
Jieun kept her promise and went to the same high school as Hayoon.
“Now that I think about it, even if we hadn’t gone to the same high school, we would’ve found a way to stay in touch somehow. Seeing how we’re still together like this…”
Lost in thought, Hayoon rested her head on Jieun’s shoulder.