Chapter 24: The Hot Spring Hotel

Speaking of mountains… Black remembered with a sudden and sharp pang of nostalgia, the last time she had come mountain climbing. It was when Hana was just nine years old. Back then, Hana was still a sweet, whiny little girl who loved to be doted on. Halfway up the steep, winding mountain path, she had gotten too tired, her little legs giving out, and had started wailing, stubbornly insisting that she carry her the rest of the way. Black’d grumbled about it, of course, but her heart had been full.

But now…

She watched her daughter, her not-so-little-anymore Hana, enthusiastically, and with surprising finesse, casting "Lighten" spells on the beleaguered production staff, who were struggling with their heavy equipment. She was earning their heartfelt thanks, her face flushed with pride and a sense of accomplishment. And she couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of complex emotion that almost all parents, at some point, inevitably experience:

My daughter… she’s all grown up now. When did that happen?

It had to be said, now that she had, in a sense, stepped away from her rigid, often frustrating role as a "parent" and was able to look at her daughter anew, through the eyes of a "colleague," she discovered so many different, shining qualities in Hana that she’d never noticed before. When you view the same person from a completely different angle, you discover a whole new, often surprising, character arc.

In the past… my handling of certain things with Hana… my lectures, my scoldings… was it all terribly, horribly inappropriate? Did I ever really listen?

“Excuse me, Miss Black! Do you see that magnificent waterfall up ahead?” A slightly sweaty but very enthusiastic staff member came scurrying over to ask, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and professional zeal. “I was just wondering, with your legendary strength, Miss Black, would it be at all possible for you to, perhaps, sever the entire waterfall with a single, mighty blow? We’d absolutely love to shoot a scene of you… ah… training here! It would look incredible! So powerful! So majestic!”

Ah, yes. Of course. Black could picture it now, with crystal clarity. That classic, almost cliché, dramatic training montage, straight out of a shonen anime. And then this perfectly ordinary waterfall would inevitably become an internet sensation, a "viral spot," with endless streams of foolish, attention-seeking teenagers and wannabe influencers coming here to try and pathetically imitate her epic, reality-defying, waterfall-slicing pose for their social media feeds. They’d probably even, he thought with a surge of cynical dread, start selling "Black’s Waterfall-Slicing Bento Boxes" at the gift shop…

Just as she was about to give a grumpy, noncommittal grunt, Ren Akiyama immediately stepped forward, a brilliant, almost blindingly charming business smile plastered on his face as he addressed the enthusiastic staff member. “An excellent, highly marketable idea, sir! If that’s the kind of dynamic footage you’re looking for, then filming is certainly possible. However,” his tone shifted subtly, becoming sharper, “we will, of course, first need to draw up a specific, legally binding contract addendum regarding this particular, highly valuable footage. We will only be granting your company the temporary, non-exclusive rights to use it for this specific promotional campaign. All ownership, copyright, and future distribution rights will remain firmly with us. And our side, naturally, reserves the absolute right to dispose of, or further monetize, the relevant materials as we see fit at any future date.”

The poor staff member, who had just been dreaming of viral marketing success, instantly looked as if he were facing a formidable, world-ending fiend. “M-Mr. Akiyama! But… but our side is the main organizer of this entire promotional event! In the comprehensive primary contract we all signed initially, surely it states…”

Ren, without missing a beat, immediately produced a thick, intimidating-looking contract from the sleek, professional briefcase he seemed to carry with him everywhere. He flipped it open with a practiced and lawyerly flick of his wrist. “Ah, yes! The primary contract! If you’ll kindly refer to the supplementary agreement to said contract, which I took the liberty of adding before we finalized the terms, you will note that I specifically, and in no uncertain terms, emphasized this very clause regarding intellectual property rights for any impromptu, unscripted displays of power. It’s right there, on the fifth page of the appendix, clause 3B, subsection C. Your legal department should also have a signed copy on file. Please, feel free to check for yourself. I’ll wait.”

“WH-WHAT?!” The flustered staff member immediately looked towards his superior, his boss, who had been hovering nearby, trying to look important. The man, in turn, simply offered a bitter, defeated expression, looking like he’d just swallowed a very large, very sour lemon.

“I-in that case,” the staff member stammered, his earlier enthusiasm completely gone, “our side will… ah… we will need to immediately reconsider the feasibility of filming this particular scene… Please excuse me!”

“Please, be my guest,” Ren said with a serene, almost pitying smile.

Similar scenes, Black had to admit, had been playing out constantly over the past few days. She had seen Ren pull off this kind of slick, almost terrifyingly competent maneuver multiple times now. Especially after that disastrous incident where she had foolishly, impulsively signed away the rights to her voice pack for a mere sixty million yen, Ren had significantly and ruthlessly tightened his control in this area. He now personally, meticulously reviewed every single contract, every clause, every line of fine print, absolutely refusing to allow Black to carelessly, or stupidly, sign anything without his express approval. Facts, Kenji had to begrudgingly admit, had proven that this was undoubtedly the correct, most sensible choice. This kid is a shark in a school uniform.

But Hana, who had never seen her sweet, kind, occasionally goofy boyfriend in his full, high-powered "professional Supporter mode" before, was completely and utterly stunned. She just stared at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock, awe, and what looked suspiciously like pure, unadulterated adoration. She had clearly, never in her wildest dreams, imagined that Ren Akiyama could be so… so incredibly professional. So… cool.

“This… this is really the work of a Supporter?” she whispered, her voice filled with a newfound reverence.

Ren, hearing her, turned and gave her a warm, slightly smug smile. “Just one part of it, Hana-chan. Contracts involving powerful, high-profile Espers like Miss Black need to be treated with extreme caution and meticulous attention to detail. A qualified Supporter, a good Supporter, must be prepared to protect the interests of their assigned Esper from all possible angles. After all,” he explained, “a significant portion of the total remuneration the organization gives to Espers is deducted and repurposed to pay for the services of their Supporters. So, if the Esper themselves gets ripped off or taken advantage of, then the Supporter doesn’t exactly get a good deal either, do they? We are, for all intents and purposes, a community of shared, vested interests. Therefore, it is only natural, only logical, that we must consider these financial and legal matters with the utmost seriousness.”

“Wow… then don’t you need to know, like, a ton of super complicated, law-related knowledge and stuff?” Hana asked, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

“Law, both domestic and international, is a major component of the Supporter qualification exam, yes,” Ren replied, a casual, almost offhand air about him. “To put it bluntly, and with all due modesty, of course, my official Supporter certificate probably holds more academic weight, more sheer, unadulterated street cred than most practicing lawyers’ bar certificates. Of course,” he added quickly, a hint of genuine humility returning, “practicing lawyers have handled a vast number of actual, real-world cases and possess special connections and invaluable courtroom experience. My certificate is, at the end of the day, just a certificate. Our roles cannot be treated as equal. My actual ability to handle a complex legal case isn’t necessarily as good as theirs. Not yet, anyway.”

This, Blsck knew from decades of witnessing corporate brown-nosing, was total, absolute Versailles-ing! He was showing off! Showing off his incredible abilities and intelligence right in front of his adoring girlfriend! In reality, Ren rarely, if ever, did such things, was never one to boast. It was only because Hana was here, watching him with those wide, star-struck eyes, that he was speaking this way, with this slight, almost unnoticeable swagger. It was in these small, almost childish moments that one was reminded that he was, despite all his terrifying competence, still just a teenager, with a teenager’s occasional, endearing need for bravado and validation.

He really was a good kid.

And Black had to admit, watching her daughter look at her boyfriend with such pure, unadulterated admiration… it made her old, cynical fatherly heart feel a strange, unfamiliar warmth.

In his work mode, Ren Akiyama truly did put people under an immense and almost suffocating pressure. At least, Black knew with absolute certainty that back when she was still a corporate drone, she could never have been as outstanding, as sharp, as utterly competent as Ren was right now. This kind of person, no matter what they did, no matter what industry they entered, would undoubtedly be an incredibly excellent, successful individual. Hana, you chose well. Very well indeed.

“Mr. Akiyama! A word, if you please!” The flustered manager from before came scurrying back, bowing deeply. “After a… spirited… internal discussion, we have decided to humbly agree to your very reasonable terms! Let us sign the supplementary agreement immediately!”

Only after receiving their complete and utter capitulation did Ren come back over to Black. “Miss Black, what do you think? Are you prepared to proceed with the filming of this… waterfall scene?”

Black, feeling a surge of something that might have been pride, simply nodded. “Yeah. We can.”

“Excellent! Then, for the official record, what should we call this spectacular move of yours?” the director asked, his camera crew already scrambling into position.

Black shrugged. “Whatever. Call it what you want.”

After everything was finally, painstakingly set up and ready to go, Magical Girl Black stood before the thundering waterfall. She joined her fingers together, forming a deadly, precise blade hand. She crouched slightly, gathering her immense, almost terrifying power, the very air around her crackling with a dark, potent energy. And then, with a sharp, guttural cry, she unleashed a single, impossibly fast horizontal slice!

In that breathtaking and surreal instant, the mighty, thundering waterfall was well and truly, cleanly, severed in two. The top half of the cascading water hung suspended in mid-air for a long, impossible moment before crashing down with a deafening roar. The terrifying and almost casual display of raw, quantifiable power made all the staff members, from the director to the lowly lighting grips, involuntarily wipe a fresh layer of nervous sweat from their brows. It was a stark, chilling reminder that the deceptively cute, if somewhat grumpy, young girl standing before them indeed possessed an immense, godlike strength. What was even more frightening, however, was that this particular magical girl was most definitely not as friendly, as approachable, as the ever-smiling Strawberry Sweetheart. She was silent, taciturn, brooding, exuding a heavy and almost suffocating pressure that made everyone afraid to even breathe too loudly in her presence.

However, despite the palpable tension, the rest of the filming went remarkably smoothly.

“The hot spring located here on the mountainside is our resort’s main, signature brand,” the manager explained later, trying his best to sound professional and not at all terrified of Black. “Upstream from this very hot spring is the municipal waterworks—in other words, the running, living water of our hot spring is so pure, so pristine, that it can even, theoretically, be drunk directly from the source! This is a key, flagship project that S-City plans to promote heavily. Of course,” he added quickly, seeing Ren’s skeptical expression, “we don’t actually recommend drinking the hot spring water directly. After all, you know, people… people soak in it… In any case, rest assured, the water quality is exceptionally, almost miraculously high.”

“The waterworks itself would surely have some level of industrial pollution, wouldn’t it?” Ren, ever the pragmatist, was not about to be fooled by such slick, corporate marketing talk.

The representative, looking slightly flustered, quickly explained, “Ah, well, of course, yes, there is always some inherent risk of water pollution from any municipal waterworks. However! We have recently installed the brand new, state-of-the-art water purification system recently developed by the legendary hero, ‘Super Thought Brain’! This revolutionary system has completely, utterly eliminated any and all of those nasty, unwanted pollutants! In fact,” he added, a flash of inspiration in his eyes, “weren’t Miss Black’s very own, super-powerful knuckle dusters also invented by that same, brilliant hero? So you see, the quality is guaranteed!”

“I see. In that case, there should be no problem,” Ren conceded, satisfied with the explanation.

After the entire group had officially entered the luxurious, sprawling hot spring hotel, Ren immediately, and with a surprising degree of stealth, began to meticulously, systematically check the surrounding areas, especially the private rooms and bathing areas, for any possible hidden cameras, listening devices, or other such nefarious contraptions. After all, with his precious girlfriend and his equally precious (and deeply embarrassing) father-in-law here in her vulnerable, magical girl form, it would be absolutely, catastrophically terrible if anything… unseemly… or compromising were to happen. Or worse, to be recorded. Moreover, even if it wasn’t that kind of compromising photo, any candid, unauthorized pictures of the mysterious Magical Girl Black were still incredibly valuable on the black market. As a qualified, competent Supporter, he had a sacred duty to ensure that his assigned hero’s privacy, dignity, and potential merchandising rights were not infringed upon in any way.

“For the hot spring promotional video segment,” the manager announced later that evening, “our official, creative idea is that you can all, our esteemed guests, rest here for one night, free of charge, of course. After truly, genuinely experiencing the full range of our wonderful project and its luxurious flow, you can then, from the bottom of your sincere, rejuvenated hearts, help us promote the hotel to the masses.”

Ren, at this point, immediately raised a potential issue. “Are you absolutely certain, sir, that your level of service won’t differ because of our high-profile status? For example, we experience it now, during this promotional event, and everything is provided, everything is perfect. But then, when ordinary, paying guests arrive in the future, your service attitude suddenly, drastically changes for the worse. Such a discrepancy, if it were to be discovered, could also cause significant, irreparable damage to Miss Black’s public reputation by association, you understand.”

“You can absolutely, one hundred percent rest assured of our credibility and our commitment to excellence, Mr. Akiyama!” the manager declared, his chest puffed out with pride. “If such an unpleasant, and I assure you, highly improbable incident were ever to occur, you are more than welcome to sue us into oblivion! Our side will not be doing any covert filming of your experience, of course. However, we will gladly, enthusiastically allow your side, Mr. Akiyama, to film and record our service at any time, without restriction. You can then, if you so choose, use that footage as official PR material to restore Miss Black’s esteemed reputation, should the need arise.”

“It seems you’re very, very confident in your service, then!” Ren said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

“The guest accommodations and resting facilities are the biggest, most important pillar of any successful scenic resort! Of course, we must strive to make people feel sufficiently, overwhelmingly pleasant and completely, utterly relaxed! Only then can this resort truly become a beloved, must-visit destination for everyone!” the manager declared passionately.

Ren, satisfied, finally turned and nodded to both Black and Hana. It seemed safe enough.

“Oh, and one last thing,” the manager added, almost as an afterthought. “We also, as part of our promotional lottery, recruited a few lucky volunteers online, a mix of men and women, to come and experience the resort at the same time as you all, to provide some authentic customer feedback. It’s possible that among them, there may be some of Miss Black’s more… enthusiastic… fans. If they happen to cause you any minor trouble or inconvenience during your stay, please, please forgive us.”

That… that probably doesn’t matter all that much. Black thought. As long as they’re not fiends, it should be fine. And besides, even if they are fiends, if they’re unlucky enough to run into me here, in my element… well, then they can only blame their own rotten luck!

It had to be said, this was a rather ridiculously high-end, almost obscenely luxurious hot spring hotel. It covered a vast, sprawling area. The rooms were incredibly, unnecessarily spacious. Ren’s room and Magical Girl Black’s room were conveniently, or perhaps inconveniently, located right next to each other. Although someone, at some point during the check-in process, had cheekily, and perhaps with a certain amount of wishful thinking, asked if Ren and Hana wanted to share a single room—Ren, considering himself (mostly) a wholesome, respectable teenager, and also acutely aware that he absolutely could not do anything to hurt or disrespect Hana (especially with her magical girl father probably listening through the walls), had firmly, if a little blushingly, requested three separate but preferably adjacent rooms.

All the facilities were impeccably complete, state-of-the-art. And he’d heard that there were many different, exquisitely designed styles of rooms available. Theirs, it seemed, was the “Modern Minimalist” style, with a pure, blindingly white base color, and all the lines and furniture looked very simple, very clean, very… zen. It felt like it would form a stark and almost comical contrast with the dark, brooding, and perpetually grumpy Magical Girl Black.

But—a hot spring! A real, honest-to-goodness, high-end, probably very expensive hot spring!

In fact, Ren Akiyama had never, not once in his entire, studious and mostly uneventful life, actually soaked in a proper hot spring before. After all, he was just a child from an ordinary, middle-class family. Although his parents also worked very, very hard, they were still, understandably, daunted by the prospect of a luxurious hot spring hotel where a single night’s stay cost well over twenty or forty thousand yen. Looking at the sheer, overwhelming scale of this magnificent hotel… the estimated number of daily guests probably wouldn’t be small at all. He could only sigh with a mixture of awe and envy at how many truly rich people there were in the world. But then again, a small, smug voice whispered in the back of his mind, it seems I myself am about to officially step into the glittering, high-income ranks of the ‘wealthy’ as well, aren’t I?

Perhaps… perhaps I should just relax and try to properly enjoy this little luxury for once.

Compared to Ren’s current, relatively carefree mood of wanting to kick back and enjoy himself, Magical Girl Black was, at this very moment, the most conflicted, the most stressed, the most utterly, completely panicked she had ever been in her entire life.

First of all, and most importantly, she absolutely, positively, under no circumstances whatsoever, could afford to blow her cover here. Not now. Not ever. If her true, mundane identity as a middle-aged, out-of-work dad were to be exposed here, in this den of relaxation and potential humiliation, it would be truly, catastrophically, apocalyptically terrible. Her life, as she knew it, would be over.

Secondly—and this was the real, immediate, sweat-inducing problem—she felt, with a dawning, creeping sense of pure horror, that she absolutely could not go to the ladies’ hot spring. Not under any circumstances. The reason being… her own precious, teenage daughter, Hana, was there! In a swimsuit! Or possibly less!

She couldn’t possibly follow the strange, almost mythical custom of bathing together with her own sixteen-year-old daughter, could she?! That was just too weird! Utterly unthinkable! Magical Girl Black’s deeply ingrained ethical and moral concepts, as battered and bruised as they were, were still relatively normal; she couldn’t, wouldn’t, bring herself to do such a thing, even though she was currently, and most inconveniently, in a female body. If it were just the other staff members, the other female guests, she could at most, perhaps, lower her psychological defenses, embrace her inner rogue, and just deal with the awkwardness. But with her daughter there? That was something she absolutely, positively, one hundred percent could not, would not, must not do. Ever.

Then, what about the men’s side? The men’s hot spring?

That didn’t seem right either, did it? A beautiful, petite magical girl “mistakenly” wandering into the men’s bath, and then… this and that happening… Black vividly, and with a fresh wave of horror, remembered reading a rather… educational… doujin with a very similar and very explicit theme back when she was a foolish, hormonal teenager. No matter how you looked at it, it would inevitably, catastrophically turn into a restricted, R-rated, probably illegal situation. Although she firmly, desperately felt that such a thing wouldn’t actually happen to her… probably… maybe…

If it were just Ren Akiyama, her trustworthy (mostly) Supporter, alone in the bath, it might be fine. Probably. If she wore a swimsuit and was very, very careful with her bath towel, it might not have too much of a negative impact. He was her Supporter, after all; he wouldn’t go around blabbing about it to the press. Probably. But they had said they had drawn a few random, unknown outsiders as guests! If someone, some stranger, saw the famous, mysterious Magical Girl Black appearing in the men’s bath, the top search results, the social media feeds, the entire goddamn internet would probably explode the very next day. Her life would be over. Again.

What should she do? What could she do?! This was an impossible situation! A Kobayashi Maru of bathing etiquette!

Ask Ren for help? But on what grounds? What possible, plausible excuse could she give? “Hey, kid, so, funny story, I’m actually your girlfriend’s middle-aged dad, and I’m having a bit of a crisis about which public bath to use without causing an international incident or traumatizing my own child. Any suggestions?” No, that wouldn’t work. Any conversation on this topic, any at all, could potentially lead to her cover being spectacularly, disastrously blown. Besides, Ren, that perceptive little brat, already seemed to suspect something was up; he had even tried to test her earlier! This was bad! This was so, so bad! She never should have come on this stupid, cursed PR trip!

But what if she just… didn’t go to the hot spring at all? Said she had a headache? Or was suddenly allergic to water?

No, that wouldn’t work either. Magical Girl Black was someone who, despite all her grumbling and complaining, took her work quite seriously. She couldn’t advertise something, put her name and reputation on it, without experiencing it for herself first. She just couldn’t bring herself to do something so dishonest, so unprofessional. So, this part of the job, this horrifying hot spring segment, it absolutely had to be done. There was no escape.

If only… if only the few lucky guests they drew for this stupid lottery were actually fiends in disguise, she thought, a glimmer of desperate, homicidal hope in her heart. Then I could just… you know… beat them all into a bloody pulp, solve the problem, and then enjoy the hot spring all by myself. Now that would be incredibly, wonderfully satisfying! A perfect end to a perfect day!

But that, she knew, with a final, crushing sigh of despair, was just wishful, and probably slightly evil, thinking.