Chapter 4: Hana Watching the House
“Whoa, speaking of which, the actual, real-life site of the ‘First Battle’ is right here in A-City, isn’t it!” Ren Akiyama mused, a touch of nerdy awe in his voice. He held a high-grade, professional-looking, and probably ridiculously expensive camera that he had, with his usual quiet competence, requisitioned from the organization’s R&D department.
Magical Girl Black, hearing this, perked up with a surprising, uncharacteristic amount of genuine, enthusiastic interest. “The First Battle! Are you talking about that legendary, world-altering war, the one they now call the ‘War of the Awakening’?”
“The very same!”
Magical Girl Black, like so many other middle-aged men of her generation, wasn’t particularly interested in the frilly, pink, sparkly, and generally quite flimsy aspects of her current magical girl existence. But history? Oh, she could talk about history with great, almost pedantic passion. “You know, if you hadn’t said anything, I would have completely forgotten about that. It hasn’t really been mentioned much in the news in recent years. I knew A-City had specially built this memorial hall to preserve the original ruins from that catastrophic war; all the other historical sites across the country have been completely rebuilt and redeveloped by now, haven’t they?”
Just as they had discussed, they were indeed treating this "official business trip" to A-City as a much-needed, if slightly bizarre, side vacation. Ren surmised, with a high degree of certainty, that the organization also probably wanted Magical Girl Black to lay low for a while, to let the recent, chaotic storm of her public identity reveal blow over. After all, S-City, due to years upon years of intense, almost aggressive magical girl promotion and marketing, had a massive, frighteningly large population of extreme, fanatical magical girl fans. A-City, by stark contrast, had had absolutely no connection to the world of magical girls for years, at least not until the very recent, and apparently quite dramatic debut of the new Magical Girl Red. Therefore, there weren't nearly as many die-hard, obsessive magical girl fans here to cause a potential public relations incident.
The organization, Ren figured, was also likely trying to observe and gauge the general public's reaction to the "middle-aged man" revelation before they formulated and implemented some kind of official, damage-controlling strategy—perhaps by making some carefully worded, authoritative statements through approved, state-sanctioned media channels, thereby guiding the public opinion and social media discourse in a more… favorable… direction.
Black didn't particularly want to concern herself with these complicated, tedious PR issues. It was far, far better to just leave all that boring, headache-inducing stuff for the hyper-competent Ren Akiyama to handle. She was very, very clear on what a proper, effective magical girl should be doing with her time: cultivating her inner self, her heart, her spirit, so she could, when the time came, unleash even greater, more spectacular, and hopefully more profitable power. Just as the Handler had so bluntly, so cynically stated, the organization had hired them for one purpose, and one purpose only: to fight fiends. All the other, often humiliating activities, like the concert tours, the gacha game voice acting, the variety show appearances… those were all just a magical girl’s own, personal, and surprisingly lucrative additional income streams. The organization merely acted as a bridge, a facilitator, a talent agency of sorts, while, of course, taking a rather significant commission for their troubles. This commission, it was said, was primarily used to pay the hefty salaries of all the Supporters throughout the country—the dramatic improvement in the general compensation and benefits for magical girls in recent years was also largely due to this incredibly profitable, almost exploitative system. One could, without a hint of exaggeration, say that the merchandising and endorsement revenue generated by Strawberry Sweetheart alone could probably support the salaries and operational costs of the Supporters in ten entire cities.
It wasn't that other, more conventional heroes couldn't engage in similar commercial activities, of course. But a profession that could so easily, so naturally attract such a massive, devoted, and free-spending fanbase, that could generate obscene amounts of revenue from all corners of the globe, that naturally possessed the inherent qualities of a top-tier celebrity, a veritable spotlight-magnet… that kind of profession, in this strange, new world, was truly, exceptionally rare.
For example, Strawberry Sweetheart was widely, universally hailed as the "strongest magical girl." Naturally, other, similar, and often hotly debated titles existed in the hero world, like the "strongest power-type Esper," the "fastest speed-type Esper," or the "strongest weapon master." But as for who was the single, undisputed "strongest Esper" of them all… well, that was a very, very sensitive and politically charged topic. While a fun, relatively harmless game like "Magical Girl Brawl" existed, there was, pointedly, no officially sanctioned "Esper Brawl" game on the market. The reason being… well, the most powerful, most influential Espers from the early, chaotic days of the Awakening had already, long ago, begun to seize the reins of real, tangible world power. They were now corporate titans, political leaders, shadowy figures who pulled the strings of nations. They had absolutely no desire, none whatsoever, to be reduced to mere playable characters in a silly mobile game, to be manipulated and critiqued by sweaty, anonymous teenagers online. And besides, they most certainly didn’t need the extra income.
“Alright then, let’s take some commemorative photos! For Hana!”
Ren raised the professional-grade camera in his hands. Magical Girl Black had, for this special outing, changed into a different set of clothes. Although Black herself didn’t particularly care about her appearance one way or another, she did find the constant public attention incredibly troublesome. And since they were, for all intents and purposes, on a vacation, why not try to make the vacation a little more pleasant, a little less… conspicuous? So, to reduce the potential for hassle and unwanted attention, Miss Black had, with much internal grumbling, changed into a pair of simple, unassuming, pure white denim shorts. Black’s original, signature magical girl Dress, of course, featured a pair of rugged, black denim shorts. And now, switching from black to white…
Ren suddenly realized, with a jolt of almost academic, analytical surprise, that even though she was Magical Girl Black, and his default mental impression was that she should have a darker, perhaps even tanned, almost gritty complexion to match her name and attitude, her actual skin, now that he was seeing it up close in the bright, natural sunlight, was actually unbelievably fair. Whiter, even, than he had ever imagined. He knew, from his extensive reading of fashion magazines (for… Supporter research purposes, of course), that white shorts were an incredibly, almost notoriously high-difficulty fashion challenge for many women. After all, once you put them on, they created a stark, unforgiving contrast with your legs. If your skin had even the slightest, most insignificant blemish, even a tiny freckle or a faint varicose vein, the pristine white shorts would mercilessly expose that flaw for all the world to see, magnifying it greatly, sadistically. Therefore, girls who weren’t extremely confident in the shape of their legs, their skin tone, and even the overall smoothness and texture of their skin, generally wouldn’t even attempt to wear them. Of course, there were also those who just wore them without a single thought for proper fashion coordination, bless their ignorant hearts. One could, of course, appropriately, and with a certain degree of advanced skill, pair them with sheer, skin-toned stockings to mitigate some of the risk, but that… that was an advanced, almost expert-level technique…
As this completely irrelevant, and frankly slightly creepy stream of unsolicited fashion knowledge flowed through Ren Akiyama’s over-analytical brain, he saw Magical Girl Black, his charge, his father-in-law, once again, and with a complete lack of irony, strike the classic, almost sacred "old person on vacation" peace sign pose for the camera. He shook his head with a helpless, fond smile, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Okay, Miss Black, ready? One, two… say ‘cheeeeese’!” he said, snapping a picture of the fearsome Magical Girl Black, standing awkwardly, but with a strange sort of dignity, in front of the ancient, battle-scarred historical ruins.
“Aren’t you going to take any pictures yourself, Ren?” Black asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. “I can take some for you too, you know. We’re on vacation, after all. If Hana saw some pictures of you having fun, I’m sure she’d be very happy for you. I… used to help my old company take promotional photos back in the day, you know. I’m not half bad at it, if I do say so myself.”
Hearing this, Ren immediately, and with a surge of genuine warmth, thought it was a very reliable, very fatherly idea. Tanaka-ojisan really is a surprisingly dependable and thoughtful person! And so, Ren Akiyama, the boy genius, also posed, a little awkwardly, for a few memorable vacation shots.
“So? What do you say, kid? They’re selling some delicious-looking shaved ice over there. Should we maybe get some barbecue to go with it? First round’s on me. Oh, and by the way, Ren, do you drink?” Outside the rather stuffy tourist spot, Black spotted a bustling, smoky barbecue stall on the roadside, and next to it, a cheerful-looking old man pushing a colorful, old-fashioned shaved ice cart.
“Ah, I’ll have to pass on the alcohol, Miss Black. I’m not much of a drinker, myself.”
Black nodded, understanding. “Right, right. Of course. You Supporters have to stay sharp, stay alert at all times. That makes sense. Besides,” she added with a sigh, “drinking all by myself is no fun anyway. So, let’s just get some shaved ice then! My treat!”
And so, the two of them sat down at the rickety, slightly greasy table of the roadside barbecue stall, ordered a truly epic, almost irresponsible mountain of grilled meat, took a couple of incredibly awkward but genuinely happy selfies together, and then, with bellies full and spirits surprisingly high, they casually found a decently-rated and probably quite cheap business hotel on their smartphones and checked in for the night.
To be perfectly honest, this impromptu vacation with Magical Girl Black was… truly, surprisingly pleasant. It wasn’t that Ren disliked his own wonderful, adorable girlfriend, Hana, not at all. But in the past, when the two of them went on their usual, carefully planned dates on the weekends, some… problems… would occasionally and inevitably arise. For instance, when Hana went shopping, she would get completely, utterly absorbed in the endless, glittering world of magical girl merchandise, spending hours upon hours in crowded anime shops, painstakingly picking over limited-edition keychains, rare figurines, and expensive art books, only to, after half a day of intense, soul-searching deliberation, end up not buying a single thing. Or, when it came to something as simple as food, for example, like eating barbecue; Black, being the pragmatic, no-nonsense person she was, didn’t fuss over the restaurant's environment in the slightest. She was perfectly and cheerfully happy to eat at a cheap, smoky, and probably slightly unhygienic roadside stall. But with Hana, they absolutely, positively had to go to a place that at least looked bright, glamorous, and, most importantly, highly Instagrammable.
Of course, it wasn’t that this was a bad thing, not really. It was just… there were always so many considerations. Even though their relationship was very close, very intimate, when they were together, they constantly and subconsciously had to be mindful of each other’s feelings, each other’s moods, each other’s preferences… This wasn’t a bad thing, he knew. In fact, being so considerate of each other’s feelings was, in itself, a profound expression of their love for each other, the kind of precious, all-encompassing affection where you tenderly cradle the other person in the palm of your hand, constantly afraid they might somehow tragically melt away.
But… but being with Black was a completely different experience. It was… easy. Relaxing. Uncomplicated. It felt like they could talk about anything, say anything, without fear of judgment or misunderstanding. If they felt like it, they’d go and eat. If they were tired, they’d just find a random bench and sit down to eat some cheap, delicious shaved ice. He didn’t have to constantly, anxiously worry about Black’s mood, about whether she was having a good time, about whether he was being a good enough boyfriend. Because beneath this petite, deceptively cute girl’s body was the weary, cynical, and surprisingly easygoing soul of an elder, of his Tanaka-ojisan, someone Ren could, strangely enough, even be a little bit spoiled and selfish around. And at the same time, her outward, magical girl appearance was so undeniably, objectively cute that it didn’t create any real pressure or awkwardness. This is… this is actually really nice!
Later that evening, Ren exported all the photos from their surprisingly fun day of sightseeing and sent them, with a warm, happy smile on his face, to his girlfriend, Hana.
Ren: Hey, Hana-chan! Good news! Things with Strawberry Sweetheart and Red didn’t need much handling after all, so Black and I just decided to hang out and do some sightseeing in A-City instead! It’s been super fun! Why don’t you take a flight over tomorrow and join us? It won’t take very long, and we can all hang out together!
He wanted, more than anything, to share this pleasant, carefree mood with his beloved girlfriend.
Hana, when she received the message and the accompanying photos, naturally felt very, very happy. Seeing the pictures of her idol, Magical Girl Black, looking so surprisingly relaxed and touristy, she also thought she looked incredibly, almost unbelievably cute. Although her mood was, for some strange, inexplicable reason, a little… complicated… it didn’t really matter all that much. She carefully, lovingly saved Ren’s handsome solo pictures into a separate, highly secure private folder on her phone…
Until, that is, she saw the photo of the two of them together. The selfie.
It had clearly been taken at that smoky, unassuming barbecue stall. The table before them was laden with plates of delicious-looking, perfectly grilled meat. And the two of them, in a very straightforward, ridiculously un-photogenic, classic "guy-like" fashion, had taken something that looked less like a cute couple selfie and more like a close-up, distorted headshot. It was just their two faces, crammed awkwardly together in the frame, barely managing to get a corner of the barbecue grill into the shot. To be perfectly honest, the entire, poorly composed photo reeked of a distinct, palpable "eh, this is good enough, I guess" kind of unprofessional, low-effort vibe.
But… but they looked so incredibly, so unbelievably happy.
Yes, the smiles on both their faces were so genuine, so unrestrained, so completely joyful.
Ren smiled often, of course. But many of his smiles, even Hana, who knew him better than anyone, couldn’t tell if they were from the heart, if they were truly genuine, or if they were just… forced. Polite. A mask he wore for the world. Just like when he had come to save her during the fiend attack; his face, even then, had still worn a smile, but Hana knew, with a certainty that was almost painful, that it had been a smile he had put on just to reassure her, to make her feel safe. But this smile now, in this picture… without a single shadow of a doubt, Hana could tell, with a clarity that was like a knife to her heart, that this was a smile from the very bottom of Ren’s heart. So brilliant, so unrestrained, so utterly, wonderfully happy that it was actually, almost a little bit… goofy. A little bit ugly, even. A smile that didn’t quite match Ren’s usually handsome, composed face, but one that allowed you to feel, to almost touch, his completely relaxed state of mind.
I’m… I’m a little… jealous… of my own dad?
The thought, so strange, so bizarre, so utterly unthinkable, popped into her head before she could stop it. She immediately, violently shook her head, as if to physically dislodge the unwelcome thought. Then, she picked up a nearby pillow and, with a frustrated groan, smacked her own head with it a couple of times for good measure. What in the world am I thinking?! Get a grip, Hana Tanaka!
My boyfriend and my dad are getting along well! That’s a good thing! A great thing, even! Is it not a good thing that the two of them are finally having some fun together, that they’re happy? After all, she hadn’t seen her own dad smile like that, so genuinely, so freely in years. In so, so many years. If she were to crop this picture, just the face, and post it online, someone, some hardcore fan, would surely, undoubtedly comment on it.
“Whoa! Is this a new photo of Black?! Who is this cosplaying as her? The likeness is so perfect! The only regret is that the real Magical Girl Black would never, ever smile so cutely, so gently! She should have that arrogant, wild, almost bloodthirsty laugh of hers instead! This is totally out of character! 0/10 for accuracy!”
Hana could almost, with perfect clarity, imagine reading similar, nitpicky comments on the forums. After all, that was the public, fan-created impression that Magical Girl Black had so carefully, so successfully left on the entire world.
Besides—although her outward, magical girl appearance was undeniably, objectively very, very cute, beneath that pretty, youthful exterior was… her own old, embarrassing, middle-aged man of a dad! No matter how you looked at it, no matter how you tried to spin it, Ren’s romantic and sexual preferences were undoubtedly normal. For girls. After all, that time when he had been held hostage by the very attractive, and very naked, Darkmoon Queen, he had… ahem. Well. He had certainly reacted. Very strongly.
So, Hana, there was absolutely, positively nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. A jealous woman, she told herself firmly, is an ugly woman. Ren was so wonderful, so perfect, so devoted; she couldn’t, she wouldn’t, allow herself to feel jealous over such a trivial, ridiculous, almost incestuous little thing. And getting jealous of her own father, of all people? She couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the sheer, unadulterated absurdity of the thought.
Generally speaking, if it were a normal, well-adjusted family, it would be the mother who would get jealous of the daughter, saying things like, “Oh, you always like your precious little daughter more than your poor, neglected old wife, don’t you!”—that kind of thing was sometimes, often, used as a playful, teasing joke between couples. But a daughter being jealous of her own father? Over her boyfriend? What was that even supposed to mean? It was like the entire world, the very fabric of family dynamics, had turned completely upside down! Their family wasn’t that kind of weird, dysfunctional, light-novel-esque family! And her dad, for all his faults, was still a rather traditional, old-fashioned, and probably quite boring middle-aged man at heart. It was impossible. Completely impossible. Right?
Thinking this, her heart finally, mercifully at ease, she began to happily, cheerfully type out her reply to Ren:
Hana: Ooh! Looks like you two are having a ton of fun without me! (ï½€ε´) Remember to bring me back lots and lots of local souvenirs, okay?! I definitely want an autograph from the new Magical Girl Red, and if it’s at all possible, maybe some of her related figurines and limited-edition merch too! Please?! Leave things at home to me! I promise I’ll get the new house all nice and cozy and perfectly decorated! And then, when you guys get back, we can have a huge, awesome hotpot party to celebrate the housewarming! What do you think?! ☆:.。.o(≧▽≦)o.。.:☆
Ren: Oh! That’s a great suggestion, Hana-chan! A hotpot party sounds perfect! Can’t wait!
A happy, blissful smile couldn’t help but appear on Hana’s face as she read his reply.
For young couples in the first, dizzying, all-consuming throes of true love, just a simple, mundane chat, a few short, silly text messages, could make the corners of their mouths turn up involuntarily, could make their hearts soar. This, right here, this was the sweet, intoxicating, and slightly foolish taste of youth and love.
Hana Tanaka was completely and blissfully immersed in it.
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