Chapter 1: Clockworks, Songs and Mystic Sheep

Time is raining again. Turbulent and unceasing, like a storm—plunging everyone and everything with its ceaseless tempest. Remnant wet droplets of time platters onto my hands, clear essences of abundance and vicissitudes sparkles in reflection. 

An abundance of time to spare; vicissitudes of time to ponder.

A time, we consider as a construct; that we judge and perceive as a constant eulogy of life.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Reminiscent of a clock ticking down to the final hour; the passing of a second in eternity. It's a decay that exists beyond the confine of logic and everything that ever was; a law, a principle—a foundation that holds universally. A constant burden, a persistent reminder that everything has an end.

A cruel constant reminder that I unfortunately have to bear remembering as I witness what’s right before my eyes.

The gales of wind continue to blow in burst incessantly, born from all the constant destruction all-around; bathing me in its comforting breeze and sending my hair sprawling out back.

A magical girl. Struggling to stand with a wand in her hand—half her height as a clutch, it's clear she's already half-dead on her feet, in the middle of a ruined open park.

A helicopter up high, swirling its metal wings loudly as it surveys the scene of the battlefield below. Craters litter all over the ground around her. Flowers, trees, and infrastructure all in various states of disarray or simply overturned surrounding the fight.

Before her, stands a humanoid monstrosity over six times her height. Its dark purple appearance seems to be formed from stacking large chunks of stone together. With extremities consisting of two elongated arms and legs, long and large rivaling the size of a street pole and a face carved with a singular socket yet nothing to fill it, not even an eye.

A Hollow. A monster that threatens this world’s order; a mindless beast that rampages without any known cause or reason.

The girl stands before the hollow defiantly with a large wand in her hand almost half her size. Every breath she takes is painful, every step feels like she would collapse at any moment—yet her eyes still shine a brilliant blue hue, incandescently like a star. Determined and unyielding even as the foe before her is insurmountable.

She flexes her right arm once more, the head of the wand in her hand shimmers a golden light, condensing into a brilliant gold—ready to explode.

The magical girl of light and hope, Sakuraba Rena, once again charges against her adversary. The golem slowly but heavily swings its massive arm like flexible rubber, even if such motion is impossible, for there’s nothing holding the stacks of rocks stuck together.

No one questions it, as it's simply magic—as if that singular word is the cause and answer to everything.

No one questions it, as it’s simply commonplace—as if the result of that singular word gave way to everything.

Something that’s known as common sense. Just like if one is up against something that involves magic, naturally one must wield magic to rebut back.

The same goes for this situation, if there’s an entity created from magic threatening the lives of everyone around it, naturally a magical girl would rise to stand against it.

BOOM

Watching the scene from high above a building’s rooftop, the ground below trembles yet again as the golem craters the ground where the magical girl once stood, narrowly dodging at the last moment by leaping up high and then landing on its hand.

“Flower Sign—Starfall Blazing Strike!!” The girl with long flowing white hair and pink tips sticking at the end bellowed out, her eyes shining with fiercely as she ran across the moving golem’s arm up to its head in a last ditch effort and—

BOOM!!

A familiar sound of destruction echoes out, accompanied by a large, blinding flash of light exploding on impact as her wand meets the head of the animated pile of rocks.

At the center of it all, was a magical girl holding an outstretched wand, whose moments away from meeting her end as both arms of the golem were inches away from squashing her; nothing remains in the place where a head should be, its body of rocks begins toppling, crumbling all-round as if strings on a puppet were cut loose. The result of the core entombed in the head perishing in that final blow.

“Haa-…I…Did it.” Breathing heavily with a triumphant cheer in her voice before softly collapsing onto the ground, not even using her wand as a support as it dissipates into the air like sparks of fireworks—her consciousness seems to be falling over as the adrenaline finally ends.

“She did it.” I sigh with relief, muttering the words aloud as my hands were still rigid with tension of anxiety. She was able to defeat it wonderfully without the need of our intervention.

“That she did. Though, having not a single backup plan in case of undesirable circumstances shows she’s rather sloppy, not in just one area.” A slightly robotic feminine voice speaks beside me, amusement clear in her tone.

She’s not wrong. I can't find anything to disagree with what she said, once she passes out, her transformation will naturally be undone, which also means her cognition filter that hides her identity will also be undone. And if she’s unlucky, paparazzis will be swarming to get the scoop of their local heroine—the savior of the city, stripped of her magic, her true identity laid bare. No matter the moral implications.

Even worse would be the authorities like those from the helicopter were to come and “rescue” her. Not to say they're untrustworthy or unreliable—I don’t believe that all of them are bad apples. It’s just those who wish to extort the magical girls, and also their horrible systematic methodology of handling them.

“...It isn't like you to be so harsh on someone for her first fight.” I reply, knowing full well there’s no one standing beside me; my gaze remains fixed on the magical girl.

She shrugs. “The first winter is always burdened to be harsh, it is through afore that we learn to estimate the green within.”

“...” I remain silent, I know by now that responding to any of Tale’s rhetorical idiosyncrasies is pointless. And also the best way to keep her from going to another tangent. By now, the girl was swaying side to side—moments away from passing out on concrete ground.

“Everything is a burden one way or another.” She remarks with melancholy.

I shake my head lightly. “...Tale, just go get her.” Pointing at the girl with my right hand stretched out—her transformation flickering as if dying out.

It’d be a terrible awakening for her if her secret identity were to be exposed. Not only would it impact her social life to never be the same as it once was—the Black Thread will no doubt pounce on the chance to get rid of her once they know her civilian identity.

Less said about the authorities the better.

A small golden orb of light makes its warm and comforting presence known through my outstretched hand, slowly unveiling itself in a burst of blinding light.

Once the light died down, what emerged in its place was a person, someone with humanoid features and a human face capable of expressive expression. And also much taller than me.

Tale.

She had the appearance of a woman in her late thirties to early forties, with smooth skin almost as pale as pearls, long black hair with its backside consisting of strands of highlighted golden streaks that reached down to her waist, and with a long side bang that’s somewhat covering her left eye—stretching down her shoulder.

Wearing some sort of full body black leather dress, with the hem reaching to her calves. Adding to that, is a capelet acting like an overcoat with feathered fur accents hanging around the shoulders, staying in place with no sleeves and longer than the dress itself, almost like a combination between a cape and a coat together. A golden, clockwork-like pattern accented to the left side of the coat, with golden trims outlined the edges. It was large enough that it easily covered her entire body, it's able to conceal her entire figure save for her head.

In a blink of an eye, Tale, in her combat boots, sends herself free falling off the building where we stood, and then—she appeared right behind the magical girl in an impossibly instantaneous speed, ready to catch her before she fully crash into the cold and hard surface of the ground.

The girl slowly and unknowingly falls into the embrace of Tale, and with precise and smooth maneuvers—Tale lifts the child up, her hands under her knees and back, cradling her in a princess carry. Just as the transformation ends, Tale blinks away as if she were a momentary illusion.

“Her body has yet to fully acclimate to being a magical girl. If the fight is anything to go by, not even five minutes has passed for her to lose consciousness.” Tale remarks, reappearing behind me. Her voice, now sounding more human, echoed behind me as I looked towards where she sat the magical girl down on the roof’s makeshift backrest; her back facing me.

Walking up, I grab a hold of Tale’s hand, standing alongside her. “Is it because of the ether?” I answer. From what I learnt from Tale, Ether is basically the source of energy or mana that magical girls create and use for their magic.

“That’s correct.” She nods with an appraising smile. Her other hand pats my head, ruffling my hair.

I don’t mind it at all. Maybe the hair, since I’ll have to fix it again.

“To be specific, her body is interfering or having an allergic reaction to itself. Akin to problems like Autoimmune Hemolytic Anemia or Lupus but not nearly as deadly; or like in a state of superposition; It’s treating her magic as if a foreign matter rather than its something Innate.”

“...In simpler terms please.” I ask. Trying to understand Tale is hard, she always has a bad habit of speaking in a way that not everyone can understand half of the time. I’m pretty sure she just doesn’t care and that she likes listening to herself talk.

She shrugs. “You can treat ether as a new yet different tree growing in your garden. And in your garden you wouldn’t like it if there’s something that could potentially threaten your entire eco system. And consider that if say, your garden is your body—it will naturally trigger or react violently to anything that’s considered foreign that could be a threat.”

“Then isn’t that a huge problem?” My eyes widen as I stare at the unconscious girl in front of me. I didn’t know this was a big issue nor this complicated from the sound of it. 

Tale lightly shakes her head. “Like I said, her body hasn’t yet acclimated to it. The human body wasn’t meant to deal with supernatural changes, let alone a scale like this. However it's slowly adjusting anyway, she'll at worst be ill for a few days if her body doesn’t take it well. But it's something that’ll solve itself over time, with the body settling into a new norm. If it weren’t she wouldn’t be able to use magic at all to begin with.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good to know.”

“Of course, it’s not like they’ll know such a momentous change has happened in their lives if their spirit contractor is, by chance, particularly heartless or sees no need for it. They’ll just think it's some bad luck.”

I deadpan. “...From the way you say it, was there a case where a magical girl died from such a thing?” 

Spirit contractors. There are many spirits in the world as they are different. Considered to be very individualistic, they tend to have their own unique idiosyncrasies. I don’t really know much about them but just meeting a spirit can be considered a once in a lifetime affair. But a spirit that establishes a contract with a human is even rarer; a topic that’s best left for another time, right now I’m more focused on knowing if she’s well or not.

She flaps her hand in a so-so gesture. “Well, it could happen. But chances are, it's nigh impossible, it's all about compatibility after all. You would need to find someone who’s able to see the flow of ether—if you want to become a magical girl after all—and the odds of finding someone like that is one to a hundred thousand. After that, making contact with a spirit. And that’s even rarer because for a human to even see a spirit, they must first meet the former and match the affinity and attunement with each other. As for making a contract? The contractee would’ve easily met the requirements; attunement, as in matching the exact magical wavelength for one to even contract; and thus become a magical girl.

“Like magnetic attracting polarity, like blood transplant, needing the required blood type to work, O negative only accepting O negative—basically like clockwork, once they click, they function like gears on a machine.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” I reply, giving an affirmative nod. That last part made everything make sense. Somewhat.

“...What is my blood type?” I ponder out loud, without expecting an answer. I should really find out for myself later when I go for my next medical checkup, I'm quite curious.

“A+, the second most common blood type in the world. Said to embody the traits of being responsible, patient, and creative in the ketsueki-gata. What marvelous virtues~”

“...” Why does she know these things? If you were anyone else, Tale I would have called the police on you for being a creep and a stalker.

“Regardless, we’re getting off track. She’ll probably need a month or so before she’s ready. Right now, you could say that her body is functioning with Ether in the mix as per normal; with a circuitous spin added to it.”

“What do you mean?” I tilt my head in askance. From what I understand of Ether, only a magical girl can just simply convert Ether around the environment into mana, which no normal human being can do. Are there more technicalities that I do not know of yet?

“Imagine eating with a spoon, you scoop up the contents from the bowl and into your mouth. Instead, the spoon now files, doing laps around you—going high and low before entering your mouth. That’s basically the gist of it. Her body isn’t accepting Ether as a legitimate source of energy to be converted and used, making it run around—losing the majority of its potency until it can find an entrance that does accept it.”

“Is that why she’s so easily exhausted?” It would make sense. That explains why she was so tired after only one attack, and why it takes so much of her energy just to result in such diminutive magic.

“Indeed so, then it looks like we’ll have to settle the dealings of the Palmwether ourselves.”

“When is it supposed to be?” I ask with a frown. That’s more or less what we settled on originally anyway, but having extra backup or help would’ve been preferable.

“The Palmwether should be held around next week. If we hope to even thwart the Black Threads' plans, it's crucial we learn everything and anything we could glean from their meeting." 

The Black Threads, a criminal organization that persisted even before the era of Magical Girls. But it’s really more of a coalition that’s held loosely at best, with most of their members composed of groups of various different syndicates banding together for a myriad of reasons, none of them good. One moment they could be cooperating with each other for a shared goal, and then the next, they would be at each other's throats over some minor disagreement. Their main goal, from what little I learnt of them, still remains largely unknown. Which does not bring me comfort knowing they definitely have big plans just sitting in the wait.

I do not know much about their internal structure or hierarchy, but what was obvious to me is that the true reason they work together is because they share a common enemy: Magical Girls.

After all, how could they continue their cruel and wicked ways when there’s someone out to stop them more than any law enforcement can?

“It’ll probably be the first meeting in a long while where all members of the Fingers will attend. After all, it’s rather unprecedented—considering just one magical girl awakening within a decade alone is national news. Now there's not just one, but four magical girls who have awakened in this country. In less than a week, no less.”

The Five Fingers. They’re each regarded as the most powerful syndicate—the big leagues within the Black Threads through sheer strength or skill alone. Each and every single one of them are formidable and tricky to handle, having their own unique quirks.

Last I heard, three magical girls somewhere in Europe banded together with the task force of the Global Peaceable Consortium—GPC for short. Each of the girls originated from different countries, and they went up against one of them, The Middle.

They won in the end with the capture of almost over half their members and leader. But at the tremendous cost of crippling one magical girl while the other two sustained major injuries; GPC suffered the most with a casualty of over sixty percent of their personnel in the operation.

Even then, their victory was rather vain, with the main villain, their leader—the Shan chu(山主) merely locked up in prison charged with life imprisonment instead of being granted the capital punishment of execution for his major and numerous atrocities. Considering how valuable he is to the Black Threads, they broke him out of confinement in under a month or so, and now we’re back to square one on how to completely annihilate their organization.

In hindsight, it should've been obvious they might have insiders in the trial—no matter the organization.

And that was only four months ago. What a headache.

“...The Thumb might personally come down to Japan to preemptively deal with them once she learns about it.” I remark with disdain.

“The Capo dei Capi hmm? She'll always be a thorn to our sides but it matters not, our spider’s web would have already been spun, and time will give way for the prey to walk into our nest.” Her voice sounded incredibly smug, I could tell she was making a crooked smile without having to look at her.

“If you say so.” I nod.

"The moment is almost finally here. The burden of a lifetime; for us to finally step on the stage. It does excite you too, does it not?" Her hands spread far apart as she does a little thematic twirl. Clearly enjoying herself and her own theatrical performance before me.

A short hum was the only sound I made in agreement; without the same fanfare as Tale. However a conviction burns hotly within me, a plan—a goal to turn this world, hostile to kindness into one where love and hope prevails.

Call it cliche, call it childish, call it idealistic even—although I don’t disagree with such notions, it’s still much more preferable to cynical and fatalistic views. After all, who would wish to live in such a cruel world? Where one is merely surviving rather than living; where one sees kindness as a weakness to be taken advantage of rather than strength to be spread.

The ideals and heroism that Tale instill within me remain the anchor in my heart—for what I’m about to do and hope to do, determination wells up inside me like a roaring kiln. A burden to lessen—to be the pillar of support; protecting, helping and saving any and ALL magical girls.

My mind made up, I took a few steps to see the magical girl up close for myself.

The girl with black hair reaching her shoulders framed with short bangs, lying peacefully and untransformed—the magical girl, Sakuraba Rena. In her school uniform and her bag by her side.

She must have rushed here all alone just after school ended.

I frowned, she seems to be a middle-schooler just like me, probably in her final year as well from the looks of it.

“That expression tells me… you lament her circumstances, do you not?”

I turn my gaze around. Tale is no longer in corporeal form. Instead, she took the form of a golden prismatic cube. Levitating towards me, floating just beside my shoulder.

“...” I can’t say that it doesn’t annoy me that children like us are the main reason this world is still in one piece, burdened with such devastating power is just too cruel if you were to ask me.

“Hmm, How about this? Why don’t you try to be her friend? You two are within the same school and age—making you two peers after all.” She continues, her expression changing into one that’s more of a sympathetic smile as an idea pops up in her mind after meeting my gaze.

“...Wouldn't that mess up our plan?” I ask, while my hands are in motion to grab and inspect specific parts of her body. Secrecy is the reason why our plan has a chance of succeeding after all. 

Head, the back of the neck, the spine, around the ribcage, the leg—especially the Achilles heel and the arms, including every single finger… No signs of bruising or injuries on the surface nor ligament tears or broken bones.

Looks like there isn't a need for my healing magic. I let out a sigh of relief, I never like using my healing magic. I don't think I’ll ever get used to using it either.

“Not at all. In fact, it would help tremendously if you were to stick by her side. Emotional support is important after all.” Her voice sounds increasingly giddy, like she just devised some sort of ingenious idea.

“...” I really don't like the way she's acting right now. But I begrudgingly had to nod, as the idea itself sounds appealing to me.

Being friends with a magical girl is a dream everyone has: to hang out with them, to play with them, to be beside them, to help them, to even save them—to do anything to help your idol or hero is something most people fantasize about or think that simply because it's “cool.” And I'm no different in that regard.

Having a magical girl for a friend does seem really nice. Though my reasoning is far more than that.

“Any signs of her Spirit contractor?” I ask. If the spirit still hasn’t come to help, then it's just another case of nonfeasance like we suspected. A cruel and despicable thing to do, like throwing a curb off a cliff and expecting it to survive on its own.

It fills me with disgust with no end.

“Barely even a trace. Not once before the fight nor here, where she’s now at her most vulnerable.”

I nod with a frown. My mind made up. “Tale, return to me.” The prismatic cube evaporates into tiny particles of golden dust—like ashes being blown—settling inside my school uniform skirt pocket, its essence drifting like a flow, returning back into something solid.

The harsh fluttering of metal wings slicing through the wind still blasting overhead even as we remain hidden from its sight in the rooftop’s shelter.

The Helicopter. Looks like it’s still searching for her, I couldn’t tell if it's a news helicopter or a GPC helicopter.

How persistent.

How annoying.

“It's best if we leave within ten minutes, before the agents arrive to secure the surrounding area.” Tale’s voice hums into my ear in a whisper while she remains hidden in my pocket as a pocket watch.

“We’ll have to take the detour then.” I mutter. Looks like we have to escape through magical means. Best we use as little as possible as well, if there’s an off-chance they have a magic detector that can be used to trace our location… That would be trouble.

Coming out here was an erratic decision in the first place, we currently don’t have any countermeasures if they somehow manage to track us. I really should have thought better to get involved. But leaving her there? Absolutely not. I didn’t even have to think twice or anything else—it was almost instinctive. 

My hands move to shake the girl awake. If she were to remain unconscious then I’m resolved to resort to carrying her.

I hope she isn’t too heavy.

“E-Eh…? What happened?” Luckily for me, the girl easily and slowly wakes up, muttering in a daze. Her hand caressing her temple as if to soothe a headache.

“You won the fight, let’s get out of here, quickly.” I spoke curtly, grabbing and pulling her hand.

“Huh? W-Wait, you saw that!?” She exclaims as she quickly got up, her eyes wide with anxiety. I slowly release my hand once she stands.

“...We should save that for later, law enforcement will arrive any minute now, I don't particularly wish to be questioned.” I turn away, already quickening the pace my way down the building rooftop.

“H-Hey wait!” She stutters, looking lost for a moment, before chasing after me.

Taking two steps at a time and hopping off each flight down the stairs, and then running across the hallway, then to the elevator. The doors open up with a ding with a press of a button; and I stand inside waiting for the girl running in the distance while gasping heavily, trying to catch up.

Just as the elevator announces that the doors are closing—the girl makes a dashing sprint inside, slamming against the walls of the lift.

“...I was going to keep it open, you didn't have to rush like that.” I frown. She’s already on her last legs, I didn’t mean to make her that anxious…

“O-Oh… Thank you?” She says while slowly adjusting herself, still confused about the situation. Her hands fidgets around with the hem of her skirt, eyes darting towards me but quickly turns away once my eyes meet hers.

“...” I remain silent. The lift begins descending slowly, the atmosphere now is rather awkward with the hum of the elevator in the background.

What should I say to break this tension? I know I'm rather socially awkward and can’t hold up  conversations, but I shouldn't be this bad to not say anything, right?

While I was debating mentally on the ethics on how to start a conversation, luck was given my way as the girl decided to speak first.

“Um, I don't think we’ve introduced ourselves yet, but judging from your uniform, we’re in the same school right? So if it's possible, as in we're in the same situation, I'd like to get to know you better. My name is Rena. Sakuraba Rena. What's yours?” Her tone is shy, yet filled with some kind of determination that I don't really understand.

“Alice.” I say simply.

“...Arisu?”

“...Al-li-ce. Just Alice. I don't have a last name.”

“Oh.” She mutters, her eyes downcast and her voice softening sadly, as if understanding the implications of a child not having a last name.

Which means that I am an orphan.

She isn't wrong in that regard, it is a rather depressing situation to be in. But what holds in the future will seem inconsequential to this plight of mine. So I kept it to myself and maintained a poker expression.

“...When did you first become a magical girl?” I decided to shoot a question, in an attempt to dispel this awkward atmosphere.

“Just yesterday actually. Today was my first ever fight!” Her tone quickly changes into one of excitement. The switch in topics seemed to send her into serendipity, lifting her spirits like a spell.

“It was strange at first, feeling the strength in my hand and how light my body now is, but I knew it was going to be amazing! Being able to run up that Hollow’s arm so easily like that—like it was nothing and I didn't think it'd be possible for it to be so fun! I can’t believe I was able to do something so amazing!”

Seeing that spark return to her as she rambles enthusiastically, I nod softly. “I see. Being a magical girl is an amazing thing. But it’ll be quite the momentous job ahead, so I recommend teaming up with the other magical girls before you get into fights. Or have a backup plan to rely on when things turn sour.”

She looks away sheepishly, letting out an awkward chuckle while fidgeting with her hands behind her back. “Ahaha… I’m sorry, I can’t help it if there’s a chance someone might get hurt before it's too late.”

I nod again. “Which is why we should be friends.”

This time, she looked confused, not knowing how the conversation took a sudden turn leading to this but nodding with a smile anyway. “Uh, ah, yes, of course! Let’s be good friends!”

…I get the feeling I messed up somewhere. I'm really terrible at this social conversation thing, aren’t I?

I could feel Tale rattling in my pocket, clearly taking great joy in my misery.

“I hope you can rely on me if you ever need to know anything.” I continue on.

Her face brightens with a smile. “Woahh—!! Alright I will! Thank you so much! I'll count on you then, senpai!”

I’m glad that she accepts me so easily. It makes my heart all jittery with happiness though I don’t show it outwardly. However I don't think she knows what exactly she's counting on me entails though… Or how big of a mess she’ll be in dealing with threats later on. But she'll understand once I fully involve myself.

Also, did she just call me senpai?

“...Why are you calling me senpai?” I tilt my head.

“Because aren't you a magical girl as well?” She tilts her head as well.

“...I'm not.” Technically, I'm not actually a magical girl in the traditional sense.

Generally, becoming a magical girl requires a contract from a spirit, one that grants the contractee a wish or desire fulfilled in exchange to become duty bound to fight and protect the world against evil.

Of course, the wish itself is limited. You can only wish within the bounds of your affinity and potential. If it wasn't, the world wouldn’t have stayed in one piece up until now.

I still don't really understand myself what it means to have your wish determined by potential and affinity. Tale still hasn't explained it to me, dismissing it as something I don't need to worry about for now.

…I'm going off on a tangent again, what differentiates me from magical girls—is that I'd never made a contract. Tale made me into “one” through unorthodox methods. Making me into something like a permanent “magical girl” where I’m unable to switch on or off my "transformation" like others can with their transformation from normal to magical.

What separates me from the ordinary is my ability of rapid self-regenerative and healing capabilities. Nothing else.

Even now I’m still confused on what kind of being Tale is supposed to be, even after spending the last few months with her as my contractor–mascot–companion-guardian? I guess. Regardless, I'm not supposed to reveal that part of myself—that I’m supposedly a “Magical Girl” anyway. It'll only bring trouble. Even if it means deceiving her, I hope you can forgive me in the future Rena.

“Eh? You're not!?” She exclaims. Shock plain on her face with a finger stretched out pointing at me.

“What gave you the impression I was one?” I ask curiously, exiting out the elevator.

“W-Well you look like you're more experienced and knowledgeable when it comes to being a magical girl. I just assumed you've been one longer than me.” She replies shyly, twiddling her index fingers while following me.

“...I see. Sorry for giving you that impression but I'm a completely normal girl.” I sigh, her assumptions are logical and understandable. I really should've been clearer when I speak, I hate misunderstandings.

…Tale why are you rattling?

“Oh…” She mutters, I can hear a hint of disappointment in her tone but she quickly bounces back a moment later. “I understand. Even if you aren’t one, I will still rely on you Alice-senpai!” She pumps up her fist, enthusiasm shines on the smile on her face.

“Thank you. But you don’t need to go so far to call me senpai.” A small smile perked up my face. Cute.

Once we exited the building, I motioned for her to follow me as I immediately bolted towards an alleyway, traversing left and right as I already am familiar with the area. Rena was able to keep up with my speed despite her being out of breath a few minutes ago.

“Do you usually have to sneak around like this?” She asks, questioning the way I duck behind a wall and peek out to check.

“Not particularly. I just… learnt my lesson after that one time.” I sigh, resumed our tracking.

“I'm pretty sure you peeking out like this is way more suspicious…” She half-heartly chuckles.

I shrug. She isn't wrong.

“Do you live nearby here?” Having determined that we’re far away enough from the scene, I ask her.

She shakes her head softly. “No, I live near the southern district, it should be about
 a ten minute walk from here if I were to make it back home.”

“Then we’ll talk while we walk, I live around this area so it won’t trouble me.”

“Alright then. How long and how much have you known about the magical girl side, Alice-senpai?”

She’s still calling me senpai? Whatever—not the point. “I didn’t really keep track of how long but, about half a year now, give or take. And I know more about what it means to be a magical girl than most magical girls.” I gave a somewhat vague answer, she doesn’t really need to know some of the darker machinations of being a magical girl yet.

Her eyebrows narrowed, countless thoughts swimming in her mind on what questions to ask first and questions should be asked.

Before the next question could even leave her lips, a ringing sound vibrated from her skirt pocket.

“Oh, excuse me.” Her cheeks tint shy of red from embarrassment.

“Hello, mom? …Yes, I know—”

Pretending not to listen, I decided to enjoy the surrounding scenery by closing my eyes. Dusk falling in the horizon with homes and apartments casting shadows around where the eyes can see. The early autumn breeze whispering across my face softly and comfortably, I let out a sigh of contentment.

A particular habit I’d picked up from Tale. Where there's a breeze of wind, you stand and make yourself comfortable as you feel it pass through you.

After all, when there's a breeze, you feel most at ease.

“Um… I'm sorry. I have to head home right now. I went past my curfew, which was 20 minutes ago. Maybe we can talk over it on the phone?” Her tone was sincerely apologetic, bowing her head to an almost 90 degree angle.

“It's fine.” I said, taking out my phone to exchange numbers.

“Well, I hope to see you tomorrow—maybe at school!” She says running off into the distance, waving her hand.

Well. That was a little awkward. Maybe I could've mentioned what a magical girl actually does to get the conversation going, but it's too late for that now.

Watching as she disappears off into the distance, I can't help but feel a stinging twinge in my heart.

I hate that.

I hate this feeling.

I wish I could’ve done more—to get to know her more. I had the chance but I failed to seize it. I know I’m woefully lacking, but I’ll keep trying anyway, to make the best out of the time we have left remaining.

After all, Sakuraba Rena, the protagonist of Magical Rising Starlight, who’s just a shy and kind girl that prefers to laze at home rather than do her homework—a child that has yet to even enter high school, would be fighting for what she stands for, what she loves, and the kindness that she believes in…

Will meet her end two years from now.