Chapter 21: Ren Akiyama, He is Certain

Yesterday was Saturday, a day of fiendish attacks and near-death experiences. Today was Sunday, a day for… espionage. Ren Akiyama, boy genius and Supporter-in-training, found himself standing before a rather uninspiring, grey office building.

This, according to his meticulously gathered intelligence, was the company where Mr. Kenji Tanaka, his neighbor and Hana’s father, used to toil away his days. Used to.

With the calm, collected air of a seasoned spy (or at least, someone who’d watched a lot of spy movies), Ren Akiyama walked purposefully into the company building.

“Uh, young man? Can I help you with something? Deliveries are usually around back,” a bored-looking man at the reception desk asked, barely glancing up from his phone.

Ren offered his most polite, disarming, and entirely insincere smile. “Hello there, sir! A fine Sunday to you! I’m actually here to see my dear Tanaka-ojisan. Is he in today, by any chance?”

“Tanaka-ojisan? Ah! You mean, Kenji Tanaka-san?” The receptionist finally looked up, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. This company wasn’t exactly a sprawling mega-corporation; there were only so many employees, and most of them knew each other, or at least knew of each other. There was only one person with the surname Tanaka who fit the "ojisan" (uncle/middle-aged man) description, and that was Kenji. “Haven’t seen him around much lately.”

“Yes, that’s him! The very same!” Ren chirped, his smile unwavering. “You see, I live right next door to Tanaka-ojisan. He, ah, left something rather important at my place a little while back, when he was enjoying a few… spirited… beverages with my father. Just thought I’d be a good neighbor and return it to him.” As he spoke, he produced a small, neatly wrapped, and entirely fictitious box, which looked like it contained something vaguely important-ish.

“Kenji Tanaka, you say…” the receptionist began, scratching his head.

Just as he was speaking, a man with a rapidly receding hairline that had formed a perfect, shimmering Mediterranean peninsula on his scalp, looking every bit the part of a stressed, middle-management type, walked over, eyeing Ren with suspicion. “Ah, you’re looking for Kenji—I mean, Tanaka-san? Well, Tanaka-san is currently… ah… out on extended fieldwork. Yes, that’s it. Very important fieldwork. Top secret. So, I’m afraid you’ll probably only be able to find him at his home, young man. You won’t be seeing him at the company today, or likely anytime soon. Don’t you two live next door to each other? Surely it would be far more convenient, and significantly less suspicious, for you to find him at home than to come all the way down here on a Sunday?” His smile was a little too wide, a little too forced.

Ren Akiyama’s brow furrowed slightly, just for a fraction of a second. Fieldwork? On a weekend? After he was supposedly on a "business trip" during the concert tour? This… this doesn’t quite line up with my meticulously crafted, multi-layered deductions. Interesting!

“Ah… I see! So that’s how it is! How unfortunate!” Ren exclaimed, feigning a suitable level of polite disappointment. “Thank you so much for your trouble, sir. I just happened to be in the neighborhood today, doing some… important teenage things… so I thought I’d be a good boy and try to drop it off for him. After all,” he added, with a conspiratorial wink, “there’s no one at his house today either, you know. Out doing… family fieldwork, perhaps? Anyway, it doesn’t seem to be anything particularly important or valuable, otherwise, dear Tanaka-ojisan would have surely noticed it himself by now and come searching for it, wouldn’t he?”

The balding manager nodded sagely, clearly relieved. “Yes, yes, that’s most likely the case. A very astute observation, young man! If he happens to return to the company unexpectedly, which I highly doubt, I’ll be sure to pass on your message. But, as you said, you can also just wait until this evening and give it to him when he finally gets home from his… fieldwork.”

“Thank you so much for your invaluable help, sir! I truly appreciate it!” Ren said, bowing deeply, the picture of youthful respect.

Ren Akiyama walked out of the building, a thoughtful, almost predatory expression on his face as he gently rubbed his chin.

Magical Girl Black… Oh, Tanaka-ojisan, Tanaka-ojisan, what a tangled web you weave.

The fiend attack on Hana Tanaka yesterday… it was all far too strange, too coincidental, too targeted. If he had to put his finger on it, and Ren Akiyama always put his finger on things… Ren found it incredibly and almost laughably difficult to believe it was a mere, random coincidence. Those two low-level, almost comically inept fiends, Burrowing Worm and Devouring Frog… if it had been just one of them attacking randomly, in a fit of fiendish pique, and then happening to stumble upon an Esper and subsequently deciding to pursue that Esper out of sheer, mindless aggression, well, he might have considered that plausible, if highly unfortunate for Hana.

But two distinct fiends, completely, almost pointedly ignoring all the other screaming, panicking, and probably far more appetizing ordinary civilians, and relentlessly, specifically, almost obsessively hunting down Hana and only Hana? That absolutely, positively had to be a targeted mission, a specific assignment they had accepted from a higher power. Last night’s official, heavily redacted after-action report from the Hero Organization had also come out: Darkmoon Queen, the terrifying, enigmatic leader of the infamous Darkmoon Coven, had strategically and almost contemptuously retreated the very moment Magical Girl Black and Strawberry Sweetheart had joined forces and prepared to unleash their combined might. Therefore, her initial, theatrical appearance beside Strawberry Sweetheart wasn’t necessarily to engage Strawberry in a decisive, world-ending battle after all; her primary, underlying objective was almost certainly, from the very beginning, Magical Girl Black. And Burrowing Worm and Devouring Frog… they were also, according to reliable intelligence sources, confirmed card-carrying members of the Darkmoon Coven.

So, it was entirely, logically reasonable to assume, with a high degree of probability, that those two low-level,fiends were also, ultimately, by extension, targeting Magical Girl Black. Through Hana.

But on the surface, what was Magical Girl Black’s actual, verifiable relationship with Hana Tanaka? At most, at the very, very most, they were casual acquaintances who had, under rather suspicious circumstances, exchanged contact information. "Friends" in the loosest, most generous, and frankly quite unbelievable sense of the term. To put it bluntly, if the Darkmoon Coven really wanted to get to Black, to exert some kind of leverage over her, attacking him, Ren Akiyama, Black’s official, duly appointed, and surprisingly well-informed Supporter, would have made far, far more tactical, logical sense. Their professional connection was undeniably closer, more official, more easily exploitable, than Black’s tenuous, almost non-existent link to some random high school girl she’d met once at a concert. And if their true, nefarious goal was to leverage a significant emotional weakness against the fearsome Magical Girl Black, then attacking him, a non-Esper, a mere mortal, would surely be far easier, far more effective, and far more emotionally devastating to Black (assuming she even had such semotions) than attacking Hana, who was a "Mage" in her own right, however inexperienced and prone to gacha-induced rage she might be. If they had targeted him instead of Hana, those two pathetic fiends probably wouldn’t have been so spectacularly, and with extreme prejudice, obliterated by Black yesterday. They might have even survived. For a few more minutes, anyway.

Adding all this new, incriminating data to Magical Girl Black’s and Mr. Kenji Tanaka’s recent and continuous series of strange, inexplicable, and frankly quite suspicious behaviors, coincidences, and shared predilections for cheap coffee… Ren Akiyama had initially been about ninety-five percent mathematically certain that Kenji Tanaka, his bumbling, embarrassing, but ultimately well-meaning neighbor, was, in fact, the terrifying, fiend-pulverizing Magical Girl Black.

That was precisely why he had come to Kenji Tanaka’s former company today. To test his hypothesis. To gather more evidence.

And now? After that blatant, almost insulting lie from the balding manager about "fieldwork"? How should he put it?

On the surface, Ren Akiyama looked like he had just had his budding suspicions thoroughly, decisively dispelled. That he was perhaps even a little disappointed, a little foolish for even entertaining such a wild, outlandish theory. In reality, however, deep down inside his rapidly calculating brain, he had just mentally, and with a grim sense of satisfaction, upgraded his certainty from a mere ninety-five percent to a staggering, almost undeniable ninety-eight percent. The game is afoot, Tanaka-ojisan!

The remaining, statistically insignificant two percent? That, Ren mused with a wry internal smirk, was reserved for the astronomically improbable and almost laughably unlikely, truly universe-shattering possibility of a bizarre, inexplicable, and frankly quite hilarious coincidence of cosmic proportions. Which, given his recent life experiences, wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility.

So then, why was he feigning such a dejected, almost comical expression, full of worry and grief now, as he trudged away from the office building?

It was because he had finally, with a dawning, chilling sense of clarity, recognized the true, formidable nature of the resistance he was facing. The cover-up.

In other words, either the all-powerful, ever-watchful organization itself, or, more likely, and with a far greater degree of probability, "Tanaka-ojisan" – Kenji Tanaka’s – own desperate, personal wishes, were the primary reason for this elaborate charade. It was highly, overwhelmingly probable that "Tanaka-ojisan" himself, for reasons Ren could only begin to guess at (probably involving deep-seated shame and a desire to protect Hana), desperately did not want Ren, or anyone else for that matter, to know his true, deeply embarrassing, and frankly quite awesome secret identity.

To put it another way, when "Tanaka-ojisan" (as Black) had initially and rather surprisingly, almost reluctantly agreed to Ren’s application to become Black’s official Supporter, it hadn’t just been a random, bureaucratic assignment. It had almost certainly, with the benefit of hindsight, been an act of profound, if somewhat misguided and overly complicated, fatherly affection and a desperate attempt at protection from a concerned, loving elder. And I, like an absolute, complete, utter fool, Ren thought, his cheeks burning with a fresh wave of shame, completely, spectacularly misunderstood Tanaka-ojisan’s good, if somewhat bizarrely executed intentions at the time! I even suspected him of… of having inappropriate, creepy feelings for Hana! How could I have been so blind! So stupid! So… so un-Supporter-like!

Since it was clearly, unequivocally Tanaka-ojisan’s explicit and desperate wish to maintain his secrecy, then he, Ren Akiyama, as a respectful junior (and hopefully one day, a beloved future son-in-law), certainly couldn’t be the one to ruthlessly and callously rip away his esteemed elder’s carefully, almost pathetically constructed veil of privacy, his last remaining shred of personal dignity. So, he could only, with a heavy heart and a theatrical sigh, feign ignorance, put on an act of having investigated thoroughly but ultimately having come up disappointingly empty-handed. Later, he’d even have to pretend to "test" or "probe" Tanaka-ojisan (as Black) again, just to give him a plausible opportunity to convincingly deflect any lingering suspicion, so that she—Black, Kenji—would finally, truly, and with a profound sense of relief, feel at ease, believing her precious, ridiculous secret was still safe. The things I do for love. And for professional courtesy.

However, Ren mused with a slight, internal, almost gleeful wince, if Hana, my dear, sweet, and occasionally terrifying Hana, ever found out that her own bumbling, embarrassing, completely out-of-touch father was actually the terrifying, badass, fiend-pulverizing Magical Girl Black… I fear poor Tanaka-ojisan would never, ever know a single moment’s peace again for the rest of his natural, or quite possibly very unnatural, and probably significantly shortened life. The thought was almost too terrifyingly, hilariously chaotic to contemplate. It would be glorious. And messy. Very, very messy.

So, at this precise moment, while Ren Akiyama was deeply engrossed in his complex web of deductions, deceptions, and future family drama, what was our dear, misunderstood Miss Magical Girl Black (aka the recently "optimized," currently unemployed, and deeply stressed Kenji Tanaka) actually doing with her unexpected free time?

She was currently engaged in a high-intensity, caffeine-fueled, almost desperate internet search, obsessively and frantically looking up every single mention, every forum post, every obscure blog entry, every questionable wiki page related to the infamous "Magical Girl Black." The results, much to her profound relief and slight disappointment, were… surprisingly mundane. Mixed, at best. Aside from a few dry, overly analytical "power level ranking" discussions on hardcore gaming forums, and some highly speculative, often wildly inaccurate "optimal skill point allocation and gear build" guides for her ridiculously overpowered character in "Magical Girl Brawl," the vast, overwhelming majority of the search results were… well… a rather alarming, deeply embarrassing, and frankly quite extensive collection of what could only be politely described as "lewd stuff." Fan art of questionable taste and even more questionable anatomy. Suggestive, poorly written fan fiction of even more questionable legality and dubious literary merit. Things that made Black’s old-fashioned, easily scandalized soul want to curl up in a dark corner and die of acute, secondhand shame. The youth of today! No morals! No decency!

Although viewing it all, even with the incognito mode firmly engaged, was an exercise in pure, unadulterated, physical mortification, she also felt a profound and almost shamefully overwhelming sense of relief. In other words, the Darkmoon Coven, despite their apparent, terrifying knowledge of her civilian identity, had clearly, for whatever nefarious, inscrutable reasons of their own, not decided to publicly release that critically sensitive information, to dox her to the entire unforgiving internet. If her true, mundane identity as Kenji Tanaka, boring middle-aged salaryman and embarrassing father of Hana Tanaka, had been callously, cruelly revealed to the world… she felt with a certainty that chilled her to the very core of her being, that she would have already suffered a complete, irreversible, and deeply humiliating social death. She'd have to immediately move to a remote, uninhabited, and preferably uncharted desert island. Probably. With no internet access. Ever again.

However, the immediate, pressing, and far more terrifying problem now was, of course, her precious daughter’s safety. That was paramount.

Since the enemy, those creepy, theatrical Darkmoon Coven lunatics, already somehow knew her secret identity, then Hana, by horrifying extension, was no longer truly safe. Not by a long shot. Her earlier almost paranoid insistence on maintaining absolute, impenetrable secrecy, on keeping her chaotic, fiend-punching magical girl life completely and hermetically sealed and separate from her mundane, embarrassing civilian one, had been precisely because of this terrifying, nightmare-inducing possibility. If her true identity as Kenji Tanaka ever became public knowledge, he could probably, somehow, with much grumbling and copious amounts of cheap alcohol, manage to deal with the inevitable fallout, the public ridicule, the endless, intrusive media circus, the probable restraining orders from terrified neighbors. He was a survivor. A cockroach of the corporate world. But Hana? His precious, innocent, and surprisingly resilient Hana? She might be viewed with strange, suspicious, pitying, or even hostile eyes by others. She could become a target for bullies, for opportunists, for even worse fiends.

And, even more terrifyingly, there might be all sorts of fiendish, desperate, underhanded attacks, all kinds of convoluted, evil schemes, directed specifically, cruelly at her, just to get to him, to exploit his one true weakness. His love for his daughter.

But what could she possibly do? How could she, a mere middle-aged man in a magical girl outfit (and currently unemployed, to boot!), possibly protect Hana from such a powerful, insidious threat?

She couldn’t just lock Hana up in some kind of high-tech, impenetrable panic room, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, like some kind of overprotective, fairytale dragon guarding its princess, could she? That was completely insane. And probably illegal. She was an ordinary (well, mostly ordinary, Esper abilities notwithstanding) teenage girl! A normal, vibrant, gacha-loving young woman! She deserved, no, she had the right to live her life out in the warm, comforting sunshine, freely, happily, without constant, soul-crushing fear!

And he, Kenji Tanaka, her embarrassing, mundane, and currently quite useless father, certainly couldn’t be physically by her side, vigilantly protecting her, every single second of every single day. Not without revealing his ridiculous, life-ruining secret. Besides, Hana, in her current, highly volatile rebellious phase, clearly found his very presence, his mere existence in the same room, deeply, almost physically annoying. She’d probably prefer to face a ravenous, city-destroying fiend all by herself than spend an entire, uninterrupted day with her "lame, out-of-touch old man." The painful truth stung.

So, with that grim, unavoidable reality staring Black in the face, was the only truly viable, if utterly terrifying, option left to her to somehow, single-handedly, and with extreme prejudice, take down, to completely, utterly obliterate the entire deeply entrenched and probably very well-funded Darkmoon Coven? Was that even remotely possible? For a recently fired, middle-aged salaryman in a skirt? Probably not. But a dad can dream, can’t he?

A clear, if daunting and frankly quite insane answer formed in Magical Girl Black’s tired, stressed, and increasingly desperate mind. Although that nice Strawberry Sweetheart girl and that terrifying Darkmoon Queen seemed to have some kind of complicated, overly dramatic, probably deeply tragic backstory, some epic, convoluted tale of love, betrayal, friendship, and angsty revenge that wouldn’t be out of place in a bad soap opera, she, Magical Girl Black, would not, could not, allow herself to be swayed or distracted by such sentimental, time-wasting nonsense. Not when Hana’s precious life, her future, her happiness, was potentially on the line.

Her only goal, her only driving purpose now, her sacred mission, was to protect her daughter’s safety. Her happiness. Her gacha addiction. Whatever it took. No matter the cost to herself.

However, a softer, more Kenji-like, and slightly less homicidal thought intruded, momentarily derailing her train of righteous vengeance. Speaking of which, that Ren Akiyama kid… he really is a good boy, isn’t he? A fine, upstanding, surprisingly competent young man. Even though he’s just an ordinary person, a Normie without any flashy, city-destroying Esper powers… if I were my daughter, if I were young, impressionable Hana, my silly teenage heart would probably be doing frantic little pitter-patter, doki-doki somersaults for him too. He’s definitely a keeper. Unlike some other people I could mention. (Mostly myself.)

Although it was often, and with much comedic exaggeration, said that fathers-in-law and their prospective sons-in-law rarely saw eye-to-eye, when it came to Ren Akiyama… he, Kenji Tanaka, genuinely, wholeheartedly, and with a surprising lack of paternal grumbling, approved. The boy was a veritable gem. A diamond in the rough. Probably.

But… wait a minute. A fresh, icy wave of pure, unadulterated anxiety washed over her, nearly giving her a heart attack. That kid… that Ren… he’s always been so damn smart, so unnervingly perceptive, so good at noticing the little things. He wouldn’t have… he couldn’t have possibly guessed something, could he? About me? About Black? About the shared love for instant coffee and cheap ramen? No! Impossible! He’s just a teenager! Right? Oh god, oh god, oh god, I’m doomed!

Just as she was in the throes of this minor, but rapidly escalating, internal panic attack, Ren Akiyama, as if summoned by her very thoughts, by the sheer force of her mounting terror, arrived at Black’s designated and currently very messy room in the organization headquarters.

“Ah, Tanaka-ojisan, how have you been feeling lately? Everything alright, sir?” Ren asked, his expression perfectly, professionally neutral.

Black froze. Her mind, already a chaotic mess of conflicting emotions and half-baked plans, went completely, utterly, terrifyingly blank for a long, agonizing second. She stared blankly at Ren, as if she hadn’t quite heard him correctly, as if she was utterly, completely, hopelessly bewildered by this sudden, unexpected, and deeply suspicious form of address. Then, a slow, guarded, almost dangerously suspicious look crept into her eyes. “Tanaka-ojisan? Who the devil is Tanaka-ojisan? Do I know him? Should I know him? Are you in the right room, kid? Or did you hit your head again?”

“Ah! My sincerest, most profound apologies, Miss Black!” Ren exclaimed, feigning a convincing level of startled embarrassment. He even managed to produce a rather fetching, boyish blush on cue. What a performer. “I was just coming from seeing my dear Tanaka-ojisan about a rather pressing personal matter, you see, and I suppose his name, his honorific, just… slipped out accidentally. Force of habit, you understand. My sincerest mistake.” He quickly, smoothly recovered, his professional demeanor snapping back into place. “Tanaka-ojisan… he’s… well, you rather memorably added my lovely girlfriend, Hana Tanaka, as a contact a few days ago, after the concert incident, didn’t you? Tanaka-ojisan is, in fact, her esteemed father.”

Black nodded slowly, a thoughtful, almost calculating and deeply suspicious expression on her face. “Ah. I see. So that’s the connection then. How… quaint. Tell me, young man,” she purred, her voice dangerously sweet, “if that’s the case, why don’t you just call him ‘Otou-sama’ (Father-in-law) directly, then? Seems far more appropriate, more respectful, given your… close… relationship with his daughter, wouldn’t you agree?”

“E-eh? B-but Hana-chan and I… we’re not actually, officially married yet, Miss Black,” Ren stammered, genuinely, adorably flustered now, his carefully constructed composure momentarily cracking.

“Oh? Is that so?” Black pressed, a mischievous, almost predatory glint in her eye. She was actually, surprisingly, enjoying this little game of cat and mouse. “So you’re not planning on marrying her then, Akiyama-kun? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? How… disappointing for her.”

“N-no! That’s not it at all! Of course, we’ll get married! Eventually! Definitely! That’s absolutely the plan! Assuming she still wants to marry me after all this magical girl related insanity!” Ren insisted, his face turning an even deeper, more spectacular shade of crimson. He looked like a ripe tomato.

“Well then, if that’s indeed the case, my dear boy,” Black said, her voice dripping with mock solemnity, “why not just start calling him Father-in-law now? Get some valuable practice in for the big day? It’s never too early to start endearing yourself to your future family, you know.” She was definitely, thoroughly enjoying his adorable discomfort. It was a welcome distraction from her own existential dread.

Ren scratched his cheek awkwardly, “Haha, well, you see, Miss Black, it’s… it’s just a little bit embarrassing, you know? At this early stage. We haven’t even exchanged proper rings yet! But, yes, I suppose… I suppose ‘Father-in-law’ wouldn’t be entirely incorrect, technically speaking. In the future. Hopefully.”

And so, that particular, highly awkward, and deeply revealing line of conversation mercifully, if temporarily, came to an end.

Ren, seemingly remembering his actual, professional purpose for being there (and possibly wanting to change the subject before he spontaneously combusted from sheer embarrassment), suddenly adopted a more serious, focused demeanor. “Miss Black, there’s something very important I need to discuss with you. Yesterday, as you are undoubtedly, painfully aware, my girlfriend, Hana Tanaka, was viciously and almost fatally attacked by those two fiends. Although she is also an Esper, a Mage with considerable potential, she is, as you clearly saw for yourself, still quite weak, still very much in the process of developing her abilities. I… I have a rather unorthodox request to make of you.”

“A request?” Black echoed, her own expression turning serious again, her earlier amusement fading. This sounded important.

“I want her, Hana, to also officially work as a Supporter, alongside me, directly under your command, Miss Black,” Ren said, his voice firm, his gaze direct, unwavering, and filled with a desperate sincerity as he looked at Black. “You may not be fully aware of this, Miss Black, as her abilities are still nascent, but the ‘Mage’ Esper ability, while perhaps not as flashy or overtly destructive as some others, possesses many incredibly useful and uniquely versatile applications, especially in a dedicated support capacity. For example, after a particularly messy battle, she could assist with rapidly repairing damage to the surrounding area, minimizing civilian disruption. She also, with further training, will possess significant, life-saving healing capabilities. While perhaps not overwhelmingly powerful in direct, frontline combat at this stage, her true, untapped strength lies in her incredible functional versatility and her potential for growth.”

He spoke eloquently and passionately, his eyes shining with conviction about an ability they both, ironically, and for very different reasons, knew intimately well. He then continued, pressing his advantage, “As you already know, Miss Black, from your own recent experiences, if an Esper wishes to become a Supporter, they do not need to undergo the same kind of ridiculously stringent, almost impossibly difficult examinations that I, a mere Normie, had to somehow endure and miraculously pass. And Hana… well, as you’ve undoubtedly seen for yourself, she is, without a shadow of a doubt, one of your biggest, most devoted, and possibly slightly obsessive fans. She would be absolutely honored, thrilled beyond words, to assist you in any way she can. I am absolutely certain she could be of great, invaluable help to you, and to our team. And, according to official Hero Organization regulations, Article 7, Subsection B, Paragraph 3, it is indeed permissible for a single, high-ranking Esper such as yourself, to have multiple Supporters assigned to them, for various specialized roles and functions.” He even quoted the regulations. This kid was thorough.

He paused, then, with a deep, respectful, and almost pleading bow, he made his heartfelt plea. “I know this might be a difficult, perhaps even highly inconvenient request for you, Miss Black. It might seem unorthodox. But, please, I implore you, with all my heart, consider it carefully! I simply… I simply cannot bear to watch Hana suffer through another terrifying, life-threatening attack like the one she endured yesterday! I need to know she’s safe! That she’s protected! And what better way to protect her than to have her right here, by your side, by my side, where we can both watch over her?”

His words, his raw, heartfelt, almost desperate sincerity, struck a deep, resonant chord within Black—within the worried, loving heart of Kenji Tanaka. This was exactly what he had been agonizing over, what he himself had been desperately, fruitlessly thinking about just moments before Ren’s arrival. It was uncanny.

“Alright, kid,” Black said, her voice surprisingly, almost unnervingly gentle, the gruffness momentarily gone. “Since you put it that way… since you’re so damn insistent… I’ll… talk to the organization. See what arrangements can possibly be made. No promises, though.”

“Thank you! Oh, thank you so, so much, Miss Black! You won’t regret this! I swear it!” Ren exclaimed, his face alight with a mixture of profound relief and triumphant gratitude. He looked like he was about to cry.

But in his heart, a single, triumphant, almost smug thought echoed, loud and clear: “Gotcha. It really is you, Tanaka-ojisan. You old softie.”

“If the organization agrees to this rather… unconventional proposal, Miss Black—” Ren hesitated for a moment, then continued, a hopeful, almost boyish smile gracing his usually serious face, “Hana’s birthday is in just a couple of days. I was thinking… perhaps this, becoming your official Supporter in training, learning from the best, could be her special, unforgettable birthday present? Would that be… would that be alright with you, Miss Black?”

Black felt a warmth spread through her weary chest, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a very, very long time. A genuine, uncomplicated warmth. “Yeah, kid,” she said, her voice softer, huskier than she intended, a ghost of Kenji’s own fond smile briefly touching Black’s lips. “Of course, it would be alright. More than alright.”

And so, the two of them, the magical girl father desperately trying to protect his daughter, and the perceptive, devoted future son-in-law unknowingly helping him do just that, reached an unspoken, yet deeply significant, and profoundly ironic, agreement.

At that very moment, Hana Tanaka, the unwitting, blissfully unaware subject of their heartfelt, life-altering and deeply complicated discussion, was furiously and violently tapping away at her phone, deeply engrossed in a high-stakes, rage-inducing boss battle in "Magical Girl Brawl." “DAMN IT! UGH! THIS IS BULLCRAP! Is it really because my whale-level isn’t nearly high enough?! How can I still be stuck outside the top one thousand global ranking?! It’s an absolute outrage! A travesty of game balance! I even managed against all odds and a truly abysmal drop rate, to pull the SSR-tier Magical Girl Black! Are my meticulously crafted equipment stats just not perfectly optimized enough, is that it?! This game is so totally, completely, irrevocably rigged! I hate it! (But I also love it!)”

Tamao Suzuki, her long-suffering, perpetually amused best friend, watched her with an exasperated but undeniably fond smile. “Honestly, Hana-chan, you were almost literally eaten alive by actual, real-life fiends, like, yesterday, and you’re already right back here, stressing out, having a complete meltdown over a silly mobile game? You have a serious, diagnosable addiction problem, you know that, right, sweetie?”

“So what? What’s that got to do with anything at all?” Hana retorted hotly, not even bothering to look up from her glowing screen, her thumbs a blur of furious motion. “Am I supposed to just stop living my life, stop grinding for those essential daily login rewards and limited-time event items, just because I had a minor, insignificant, fiend-related inconvenience yesterday afternoon? That’s completely ridiculous! And totally unproductive! Speaking of which,” her eyes suddenly lit up with a manic, gacha-fueled gleam, “did you manage to pull Black yet, Tamao? She’s so totally, unbelievably broken! You have to get her! She’s a game-changer!”

“Hmph! As if! I still don’t even know how your precious, oh-so-perfect Ren-kun managed to snag those impossible-to-get, sold-out-in-nanoseconds concert tickets in the first place! It’s suspicious, that’s what it is!” Tamao declared, pouting dramatically. “I did, like, a bazillion gacha pulls during that stupid concert event, and I still didn’t get Magical Girl Black! Not even a lousy SR version! It’s a conspiracy, I tell you! A cruel, heartless conspiracy orchestrated by the gacha gods themselves! If I had actually gone to the concert too, I probably, most definitely would have gotten her! My luck stat would have been boosted by the ambient magical girl energy! You’re such a terrible, selfish friend, Hana Tanaka! So heavy on the dreamy boyfriend, so light on the devoted bestie! Why didn’t you make your wonderful Ren-kun get me a ticket too, huh?! Why?! It’s not fair!” Tamao wailed, a picture of tragic, gacha-deprived despair.

Hana finally and reluctantly looked up from her phone, her eyes narrowed in mock, sisterly disdain as she glared at her pouting, melodramatic best friend. “Hey! You! What’s that supposed to mean, huh! Are you seriously, actually suggesting that we were supposed to bring you, the ultimate, undeniable third wheel, the world’s biggest, most notorious romantic-mood-killer, along on our special, once-in-a-lifetime concert date? Get real, Tamao! Have some self-awareness!” Besides,” she added, with a superior, almost pitying sniff, “if you really wanted a ticket so badly, you could have just, you know, bought one from those shady, price-gouging scalpers online, like any other desperate, morally bankrupt fan!”

“Do you have any earthly idea how ridiculously, obscenely, almost criminally expensive those horrible scalper tickets were, Hana?! I’m not made of money, you know! Unlike some people I could mention who get suspiciously generous cash ‘rewards’ from mysterious magical girls!” Tamao wailed, her voice filled with genuine anguish.

“Then why in the world should my wonderful, generous Ren have to get you one for free, huh! What exactly would you have given him in return for such a priceless treasure, oh wise and sagacious one!” Hana shot back, a teasing, mischievous glint in her eye.

Tamao Suzuki struck a dramatic, alluring, and frankly quite unconvincing pose, batting her eyelashes coquettishly. “My undying, eternal gratitude! And perhaps… just perhaps… if he played his cards right… my body!” she declared with a suggestive wink and a throaty chuckle.

Hana’s jaw dropped. Her eyes widened in mock horror. She immediately, dramatically slammed her precious phone down on the table (thankfully, it had a sturdy case) and then lunged, with a playful, surprisingly agile roar, towards her giggling, unrepentant best friend. “Aha! I knew it! I always, always knew you were secretly, shamelessly after my precious Ren, you treacherous, backstabbing hussy! You only pretended to be my loyal best friend all these years so you could get close to him, so you could steal him away from me when I least expected it! You home-wrecking, boyfriend-stealing viper! Prepare to feel the full, unadulterated, righteous wrath of Magical Girl Black’s legendary, fiend-obliterating God-Severing Cleave! HYAAAH! En garde, villainess!”

“Hahaha~ Hahaha~ Okay, okay, I yield! I yield! I was wrong! So very, very wrong! Please, Hana, have mercy on my poor, defenseless soul!” Tamao shrieked with helpless, infectious laughter, trying desperately, and failing miserably, to fend off Hana’s surprisingly effective, magically enhanced tickle attack. “Hey! Using your creepy Esper magic to tickle me into submission is totally, completely cheating! That’s a blatant foul! It’s against all the known rules of civilized friendship! Ah! No! You can’t! Stop it! Please, no more! I surrender! I SURRENDER!”

After a few more moments of energetic, laughter-filled, and possibly slightly bruising roughhousing, the two girls finally collapsed onto Hana’s messy, poster-strewn bed in a tangled heap of giggles, exhaustion, and shared affection. Tamao, still catching her breath and wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, looked at Hana with a sly, resentful, but ultimately fond glint in her eye. “You… you fight dirty, Hana Tanaka! That was a totally unfair, rule-breaking, and possibly illegal tickle attack! You’re a monster! Speaking of which…” her voice suddenly dropped to a conspiratorial, breathless whisper, her eyes sparkling with a miíchievous and dangerous curiosity, “you two, you and your precious Ren-kun… have you, you know… done it yet?”

“Huh!?"