Vol 2: The Changing of An Era - Chapter 1: A Business Trip?

Excitement. A pure, unadulterated, almost intoxicating thrill.

How long had it been since she had felt this genuinely, this beautifully excited?

Watching that man, Kenji Tanaka, transform into the fearsome Magical Girl Black without a single, solitary moment’s hesitation, right there, in front of everyone, for all the world to see… the magnificent Darkmoon Queen had never, ever imagined, not even in her wildest, most grandiose fantasies of despair and destruction, that she could ever be excited to this profound, spiritual degree. It was… divine.

The plan, their meticulously, almost scientifically crafted, psychologically devastating plan, had actually been quite simple in its elegant cruelty. First, the asset known as Dark Butterfly, in her flawless human guise as the beautiful and enigmatic "Yuki Kirishima," would appear as a living, breathing phantom of Kenji Tanaka’s "soulmate"—his long-deceased, idealized wife. Her primary objective was to attract, to entice, to emotionally compromise the pathetic, middle-aged Kenji Tanaka. Then, the Queen herself would make her grand, destructive entrance, forcing Kenji into a terrible, agonizing, and hopefully very public choice: to transform into Magical Girl Black in front of this woman who looked so much like his lost love, or to stand by and watch as innocent people suffered and died. According to the Darkmoon Coven’s extensive, and usually very accurate, psychological assessments of so-called "heroes," the emotionally volatile magical girls, in particular, would always falter at this crucial, heart-wrenching juncture. Their fragile hearts were their greatest, most exploitable weakness.

After all, although magical girls were undeniably, terrifyingly powerful, compared to the vast, overwhelming majority of other, more stable Espers, their fragile, often unpredictable mental and emotional state was their single greatest, most fatal flaw.

Years ago, the celebrated Strawberry Sweetheart had been a perfect, textbook example of this very principle. Caught in a web of agonizing indecision and crippling hesitation, her tragic delay had led directly, inevitably to the deaths of numerous innocent civilians. And finally, bathed in the warm, sticky blood of the fallen, a profound, pitch-black, and magnificent power had been born from her all-consuming despair, forcing the sweet, innocent Strawberry Sweetheart to finally, gloriously enter her now-legendary, and highly destructive Inverted state. Today’s carefully orchestrated plan was simply meant to be a beautiful, nostalgic reenactment of that glorious, proven strategy. A classic, reprised for a new, and hopefully even more entertaining audience.

But—

Kenji Tanaka hadn’t hesitated. Not for a single, solitary, almost insulting instant. His steps, as he’d walked away from his family to face her, had been so firm, his resolve so absolute. His transformation, his acceptance of his own monstrous power, had been so unbelievably, so breathtakingly strong—

Magical Girl Black!

“MAGNIFICENT!” The dark, chaotic power roiling around the Darkmoon Queen fluctuated wildly, a perfect mirror of her own turbulent, ecstatic emotions. “My initial judgment of you, it seems, was deeply, wonderfully flawed! But this… oh, this is magnificent! You are truly, truly magnificent, Magical Girl Black! You are nothing, nothing like that sentimental, perpetually conflicted little fool, Strawberry Sweetheart! YOU, Black! You are the only one in this miserable, boring world truly worthy of being my one, true rival!”

“I had no original desire to interfere in the little, melodramatic feud between you and Strawberry Sweetheart,” Black’s voice was a low, dangerous growl, resonating with a power that seemed to shake the very air, to bend the light around her. “I am well aware that you and she share something akin to a fated, almost tiresomely eternal duel. But you, Darkmoon Queen… you have made me so, so incredibly, unforgivably angry. Who… who gave you the right to dare have someone desecrate her sacred image?”

The sheer, suffocating, palpable pressure that Magical Girl Black was exuding at that moment felt, to everyone present, even more powerful, even more terrifying, than that of the infamous fiend queen herself. The transformation of Black, which should have, by all rights, caused a massive, chaotic uproar, a flurry of panicked screams and flashing cameras, was instead met with a stunned, reverent, fearful silence. No one dared to speak. No one dared to even breathe too loudly, lest they offend the pitch-black magical girl who was now, with slow, deliberate, almost funereal steps, walking up into the very sky itself, defying gravity with sheer, contemptuous willpower.

Black’s movements were slow, almost languid, yet everyone could feel the terrifying, apocalyptic power contained within that small, deceptively delicate, doll-like body.

“Dark Moon,” Black said, her voice deceptively, unnervingly calm as she addressed the fiend queen, “are you prepared? To receive this single, solitary punch of mine.”

“To think you would dare to utter such outrageously arrogant words while standing within the very heart of my Dark Moon Domain?” the Queen retorted, her own confidence, her own power, surging to meet the challenge. “You should know, my dear Black, you possess no ‘Sparkling Form,’ no power of light, to counter my absolute authority here. How dare you be so unbelievably, so delightfully arrogant?”

“Whether it’s arrogance or not… you can find out for yourself, right after you eat my fist.”

As the words, cold and final, left her lips, Magical Girl Black was already standing directly before the Darkmoon Queen. And then—she threw a single, unadorned, lazy-looking punch.

In that single, cataclysmic instant, everyone present went completely, utterly deaf. It was as if all sound in the universe, all vibration, all energy, had ceased to exist. They could only see the world around them, the very fabric of space and time, begin to twist, to warp, to distort, centered on Magical Girl Black’s small, deceptively delicate, knuckle-duster-clad fist. It felt as if everything in existence, all light, all matter, all hope, all despair, were being inexorably drawn, pulled, and violently crushed into that single, impossibly dense, reality-shattering point.

A pitch-black, perfectly formed full moon, a solid, tangible manifestation of the Queen’s absolute domain, instantly appeared to block Black’s fist. This was the Darkmoon Queen’s ultimate defense; within her Dark Moon Domain, she could theoretically manipulate space itself, she could bend reality to her will, she could even, if she so chose, reflect Black’s own devastating attack directly back at her.

However… even as her own immeasurable power clashed directly, cataclysmically with the Queen’s reality-warping domain, Magical Girl Black showed not a single, solitary shred of hesitation. There was not even a flicker of fear, of doubt, in her cold, determined eyes.

Only Power!

Power that was constantly, infinitely rising! Power that was continuously shattering against the Queen’s defense, and then instantly, impossibly reforming itself, growing stronger, denser, more absolute with every single, solitary nanosecond!

And then, in a single, silent, beautiful moment, the dark moon shattered like cheap glass.

A terrifying, unimaginable wave of pure black energy, of raw, untamed destructive force, erupted outwards, completely, utterly tearing through the weakened Dark Moon Domain and blasting a massive, gaping, and probably very expensive to repair hole through the S-City Grand Mall, a single, devastating hole that pierced clean through every single floor, from the shattered rooftop to the cracked foundation.

When the swirling, chaotic, pitch-black energy finally, mercifully dissipated, the Darkmoon Queen was left floating limply in mid-air. Her entire left arm, from her elegant fingertips to her regal shoulder, was completely, utterly, surgically gone. Vanished. Not even a single, solitary drop of blood could be seen, the wound cauterized instantly by the sheer, overwhelming force of the blow.

“…Black…!” she gasped, her voice filled with a mixture of excruciating pain, profound shock, and a newfound, almost fearful, almost reverent respect.

With a final, desperate flash of dark moonlight, the Darkmoon Queen vanished from mid-air. She had, very clearly, and very, very wisely, fled for her life.

Black watched her go, her expression unreadable. And then, her own seemingly infinite power, completely expended in that single, reality-shattering blow, finally, mercifully gave out. Damn it. The Darkmoon Queen was indeed, as advertised, incredibly, ridiculously powerful. Even after using up every last ounce of her strength, Black still hadn't been able to completely, decisively obliterate her. She had even, somehow, managed to escape. This, for now, was Magical Girl Black’s current, and rather frustrating limit.

Not… not strong enough… not yet… Kenji Tanaka thought, his consciousness finally, gratefully fading as he plunged into a deep, welcome, and utterly exhausting slumber.

“BLACK!” he saw, through a hazy, dimming, almost cinematic tunnel of fading light, the familiar, worried face of Ren Akiyama rushing towards his falling, powerless form.

That kid… Kenji thought, a final, weary and fond smile gracing his internal lips. So he really did know my identity all along. He’s a pretty good actor, that one… a real conniving little brat…

That was Kenji Tanaka’s last conscious thought.

......

When Kenji Tanaka next opened his eyes, the first thing he saw, much to his surprise and slight embarrassment, was Ren Akiyama, sitting calmly by his bedside in what was clearly a private, and probably very expensive, hospital room. He managed a weak, wry smile. “So, you knew my identity all along, and you still kept up that elaborate, Oscar-worthy act with me for so long. You’re not a very honest kid, are you, Ren-kun?”

Ren, who was in the middle of expertly and surgically peeling an apple with a small paring knife, handed the finished, perfectly peeled fruit to Kenji without missing a beat. “Well, I had to consider your delicate psychological state, didn’t I, Tanaka-ojisan?” he said, his voice calm and professional, as always. “You have to understand, sir, not every single person is mentally equipped to handle a situation of complete and utter social death. It might sound laughable to some, but there are documented cases of people who have actually, tragically taken their own lives because of that kind of extreme public humiliation. It’s not something to be taken lightly, or to be joked about.”

“I suppose… I suppose I should thank you for your surprisingly thoughtful consideration, then, Ren.” Kenji sighed, a sound heavy with a weariness that went far beyond mere physical exhaustion. “If it were at all possible, I really, truly would have liked to keep this ridiculous secret hidden forever. But my rational mind, what’s left of it anyway, told me that was probably impossible from the very beginning. So, in the end… that woman, Yuki Kirishima… she was a fiend, wasn’t she? Dark Butterfly?”

“Yes, sir. The fiend known as Dark Butterfly. Her ability allows her to change her own form, and she can also help others temporarily alter their appearance. However, the transformation isn’t particularly stable; it tends to disappear upon significant physical or emotional impact.”

Kenji took a contemplative bite of the crisp, sweet apple. “You didn’t manage to capture her at the time, then? After I… passed out?”

“She ran away too fast, sir. Besides,” Ren added quietly, his gaze dropping slightly, “Hana was there. I couldn’t risk a prolonged engagement.”

For a moment, a heavy, awkward, and deeply complicated silence filled the sterile hospital room. After a while, Kenji finally put the half-eaten apple aside and said, with a bitter, self-deprecating smile, “Hana… she probably won’t be able to accept it, will she? Her idol, her new friend Magical Girl Black… turns out to be her own detestable, embarrassing father. If it were at all possible, I… I was really hoping to mend our relationship a little more first, before she found out.”

Ren shook his head, a small, reassuring smile on his face. “You don’t need to worry about that, sir. I’ll be there. I’ll handle it. And besides,” he added, a hint of genuine pride in his voice, “Hana is much, much stronger than you imagine.”

Kenji looked at him with a mixture of confusion and hope. “What… what exactly do you mean by that?”

“You’ll find out when the time comes, Tanaka-ojisan. For now—please, get some proper rest. You’ve more than earned it. Oh, and the General Manager from the organization wants you to go and see her as soon as you’ve officially woken up. She said they have some… important matters… they need to discuss with you.”

Kenji rubbed his aching, still-throbbing head. “Oh, great. I have a very bad feeling I’m about to get a serious, career-ending earful.”

“If I may offer a professional suggestion, sir,” Ren said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “I’d highly recommend you go to the meeting as Magical Girl Black. After all, Black is so incredibly petite and undeniably, objectively cute. Even the fearsome General Manager probably won’t be too harsh or severe with you in that particular, disarming form.”

Kenji nodded slowly, a reluctant smile touching his lips. “You know what, kid? You’ve got a point there. A very good point.” After all, all his previous, terrifying meetings with that manipulative woman had been as Magical Girl Black. In this form, as his weary, middle-aged self, he certainly didn’t have the confidence, the sheer audacity, to have a serious, high-stakes conversation with a powerful, intimidating woman like her. “Aren’t you coming with me, then? You’re my Supporter, aren’t you? Isn’t that your job?”

“My apologies,” Ren said, already slipping back into his professional role, “but there are still so many things that need to be handled regarding the significant, city-wide fallout from this recent incident. I need to coordinate with the cleanup crews, the PR team, the damage assessment teams… the paperwork is a nightmare.”

“Then I’ll leave it to you, my boy. You’re the professional, after all.”

He once again, with a weary sigh and a flash of dark light, transformed into Magical Girl Black and then, with a sense of impending doom, arrived at his designated destination.

“Ah, Black. So glad you could make it.” The Handler, still impeccably dressed in her signature, almost uniform-like secretary outfit of a daringly short skirt and long, elegant black stockings, sat with her legs coolly crossed, asking Black the question with an unreadable, almost amused expression on her face. “Do you know why I’ve called you here this time, my dear?”

Black, feeling surprisingly bold, held up her hands in a gesture of bored indifference. “I have absolutely no idea. But if this is about what happened last time, with my little… public transformation… then my official answer is, it was something that I, as a hero, absolutely had to do. No regrets.”

“Hehe~” The woman let out a soft, melodious chuckle that somehow made the hairs on the back of Black’s neck stand up. “Do you really, truly think that the organization, in the grand scheme of things, actually cares about something so trivial as your secret identity, my dear Black? At the end of the day, it was the organization’s original intention to make your identity public from the very beginning. You were the one who so stubbornly, so desperately requested that it be kept a secret, remember? Your identity being exposed, or not, is of absolutely no consequence to us. As for whether other entities, other corporations, wish to sign lucrative contracts with you for various commercial activities, that is a matter strictly between you and your surprisingly competent Supporter. The organization does not get involved in such petty, financial matters. The organization hired you, my dear, for one purpose, and one purpose only: to fight fiends and protect the general populace. You are, in your own uniquely brutal and efficient way, fulfilling that mission admirably. So no, I would not call you all the way here just to scold you for that.”

How… how surprisingly reasonable. Black hadn’t expected the organization to be so completely, utterly unconcerned about the matter. It seemed she had, perhaps, some serious misconceptions about them. Indeed, she had been so caught up in all the recent commercial activities, the concerts, the voice packs, the PR stunts, that she had almost, almost completely forgotten that a magical girl’s real job, her primary, fundamental purpose, was to maintain world peace. Fighting fiends was their main profession; everything else was just a lucrative, if sometimes deeply humiliating, side hustle.

“No, my dear Black,” the Handler continued, her voice now a little more serious, “this is about Magical Girl Red. You’ve heard of her, I presume?”

Magical Girl Red! If she had to say, of course, Black had heard of her. After all, the very first day that news of Red’s dramatic debut had broken, Ren, her ever-efficient Supporter, had immediately informed her about it, complete with a detailed preliminary analysis of her powers and potential.

“Didn’t Strawberry Sweetheart already go to A-City to meet Red? What does this have to do with me? I’m busy.”

The woman thought for a moment, a thoughtful finger tapping against her chin. “To date, my dear, there have been three distinct, officially recognized ‘generations’ of magical girls: the Gem Generation, the Dessert Generation, and now your generation, which we in R&D are currently, and with much academic debate, calling the Color Generation. And you, my dear Black, you are the very first, the prototype, if you will, of this new Color Generation. The leader of the Gem Generation, as you know, was the legendary and tragically flawed Magical Girl Crystal. You’ve already had the distinct pleasure of meeting Magical Girl Lapis Lazuli, haven’t you? One of the last surviving members of that era.”

Speaking of Magical Girl Lapis Lazuli, Black immediately, and with a fresh surge of awkwardness, thought of that strange, beautiful girl named Moeka, and the very, very weird, and deeply unsettling thing she had said to her about magical girls getting pregnant and being unable to change back…

Seeing the subtle, almost comical change in her expression, the woman let out another soft, knowing chuckle. “Actually, my dear, the turnover, the iteration between magical girl generations is incredibly, almost terrifyingly rapid. From the birth of Magical Girl Crystal as the ‘Prima Materia,’ the ‘Original Stone,’ or the ‘First’ magical girl, as some scholars call her, it has only been about thirty short years. In your own childhood, I imagine, you probably only ever heard of magical girls in works of fiction, in manga and anime, right?”

Black thought about it and realized it was, in fact, absolutely true. In just a few short, chaotic decades, had everyone, the entire world, just come to accept magical girls, these strange, powerful, and often deeply unstable beings, as a completely natural, mundane part of the world? It was… bizarre.

“So, why are you telling me all this ancient history, then?” Black grumbled, getting impatient. “Weren’t we supposed to be talking about this… this ‘Red’ person?”

“I’m telling you this, my dear Black, because I want you to understand something very, very important,” the Handler said, her voice now low and serious. “Magical girls, for all their power, are incredibly, exquisitely fragile. Although, from your recent, monstrous performance, you seem to be a bit… different… from them, a statistical anomaly, but—generally speaking, an entire generation of magical girls will usually, almost without fail, completely disappear within ten short years. Either through death in the line of duty, or through a quiet, unceremonious retirement… As for the specific reasons for their ‘retirement,’ naturally, it’s almost always because they can no longer, for one reason or another, transform into a young, powerful, and marketable girl.”

Black’s brow furrowed, a sense of unease creeping up her spine. “What the hell are you trying to say? Spit it out.”

The Handler leaned forward, a grim, almost pitying smile on her face. “Strawberry Sweetheart and Magical Girl Red… they’ve gotten into a fight. A rather serious one, from what I hear. To be perfectly honest, Red’s signature color, red, symbolizes the passionate fire of hope, while Strawberry Sweetheart, in her own way, has become a living, breathing symbol of this entire current era of heroism. I’m not entirely sure how, or why, they started fighting, what the catalyst was, but, my dear Black, this is a delicate, potentially catastrophic matter that you need to handle. Personally. Other, more conventional Espers have a notoriously difficult time fighting against magical girls; your powers, as you well know, are very… unscientific. Illogical. They don’t follow the established rules. You understand this. So,” she concluded, her voice leaving no room for argument, “you need to make a little trip to A-City. A business trip, if you will.”

A fight? Those two? But… that always-smiling, always-gentle, pathologically sweet young beauty named Akari Natsume? Fighting with a newcomer? How very, very strange!

“But, what about S-City…?” Black protested weakly. “My daughter…”

“Didn’t you just, rather spectacularly, blow off one of Darkmoon Queen’s arms a few days ago?” the Handler said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I imagine the esteemed Queen will be… recuperating… for a little while. Lying low. We’ll temporarily transfer some other, less interesting Espers from other sectors to protect S-City in your absence. And besides,” she added, her eyes glinting with that familiar, unsettling amusement, “you are currently, as I understand it, facing some rather… delicate domestic disputes… of your own, aren’t you? Consider this a chance to get away for a while, to clear your head. A nice, relaxing trip might even help to alleviate some of your current family conflicts, don’t you think? A change of scenery can do wonders for one’s perspective.”

Magical Girl Black held up her hands in a gesture of weary, utter surrender. “It seems,” she grumbled, a profound sense of resignation in her voice, “that I have no choice but to accept this generous offer, don’t I?”