Chapter 21: Ren Akiyama's Self-Rescue

Magical Girl Black looked at Ren Akiyama, her expression one of utter, powerless, and frankly quite pathetic defeat. “This is what you wanted to hear all along, isn’t it, you little brat?”

From the very beginning, this boy—this man—had known exactly what she was thinking, what she was so desperately afraid of. That was precisely why he had asked such a cruel, almost surgical, and deeply personal question before: “Do you still have the courage to change back into Kenji Tanaka?” A question that had pierced right through her carefully constructed armor.

Although she had desperately tried to evade his words, to bluff her way out of this terrifyingly intimate conversation, but…

With a groan of pure and deeply profound despair, Black grabbed a nearby, fluffy pillow and, with a final, desperate act of defiance, covered her flaming-hot, probably beet-red face. This man, this boy, this infuriatingly perceptive little monster, simply wouldn’t give her an opportunity to do anything else. He was relentlessly, cruelly pressing forward, step by step, aggressive and overbearing—brutally, systematically forcing Magical Girl Black to finally, painfully, and with no room for escape, speak the true and deeply shameful words of her heart.

“Men like you… you’re just the absolute, undeniable worst!” the girl’s muffled, almost childishly petulant voice grumbled from beneath the suffocating depths of the pillow.

Ren felt a fresh, comical pang of awkwardness. The way this was all playing out, it almost seemed as if he were some kind of manipulative, predatory villain, a cruel interrogator preying on a vulnerable young maiden. In reality, of course, he had absolutely no ill intentions. Not really. He just… he just wanted to help the deeply troubled Magical Girl Black resolve her deep-seated, and frankly quite dangerous, internal problems.

From a purely pragmatic standpoint, a magical girl’s heart, her mental and spiritual world, being so demonstrably unstable was a recipe for absolute, city-leveling disaster. It could, and probably would, easily cause all sorts of catastrophic problems down the line. As her official, duly appointed Supporter, it was Ren Akiyama’s sworn, contractual duty to resolve any and all such corresponding issues. Therefore, he was simply, diligently, and with a great deal of personal risk, working hard. He was thinking of ways, any way at all, to complete his assigned task—which, at the end of the day, was also how he earned his rather generous, and soon-to-be-danger-pay-enhanced, living.

And from a purely personal, sentimental standpoint, he truly couldn’t bear to see Magical Girl Black so hopelessly conflicted, so lost, so aimlessly, pathetically adrift in a sea of her own middle-aged angst. She could, of course, continue to exist, to function, in her powerful, confident Magical Girl Black state for a while longer. But she couldn’t be Magical Girl Black forever. To put it bluntly, even the most powerful magical girls had their physical and mental limits. There would inevitably, certainly come a time when her stamina was completely depleted, just like in her recent, almost fatal battle with the magnificent Darkmoon Queen. And when that happened, when her seemingly infinite energy finally, inevitably ran out, she would naturally and probably quite inconveniently revert to being that ordinary, pathetic, and currently unemployed middle-aged man.

Moreover, Strawberry Sweetheart’s recent and rather shocking retirement had served as a huge, sobering wake-up call for Ren. The operational, ahem, "shelf life" of a magical girl was, in the grand, cosmic scheme of things, terrifyingly, tragically short. The legendary Gem Generation of magical girls had already, long ago, met its final, spectacular and deeply tragic end. And of the once-vibrant Dessert Generation, only the indomitable Strawberry Sweetheart had been left standing, and now, even she, the strongest of them all, had retired from the field.

This so-called, nascent "Color Generation"... how long could it possibly, realistically last? And how long could Magical Girl Black, a man in his forties, continue to be a magical girl? If, one day, a new, even more powerful generation of magical girls appeared, would Black be able to choose retirement with the same grace, the same quiet dignity as Strawberry Sweetheart? Or would she in her desperation, still try to cling to her identity as Black, still try to remain active in a world that had already moved on? The relentless, unforgiving changing of the eras… what did it truly mean for someone as anomalous, as fragile as Magical Girl Black?

It was because of these many, many complex, and frankly quite alarming worries that Ren had chosen to have this difficult, almost therapeutic heart-to-heart talk with Black. And yet, despite all his brilliant, insightful deductions, there were still some things, some core aspects of her logic, that he just couldn’t quite figure out.

“So, let me get this completely straight, Miss Black,” Ren began, his voice now dangerously, almost predatorily soft. “You, in order to become a ‘real girl,’ permanently, came to your own future son-in-law’s private bedroom, in the middle of the night, while wearing a profoundly inappropriate outfit, with the clear, unspoken intention of attempting to seduce him into committing a rather serious, and probably quite illegal crime. So that you could then, with a clear, untroubled conscience, push all the blame, all the shame, and all the responsibility for your actions onto his unsuspecting head? My, my, Miss Black. That, you must admit, is the kind of devious, manipulative act befitting a true, unadulterated scumbag. And with that kind of thinking, how could you possibly, ever face your own sweet, innocent daughter again?”

Black just hugged the poor, defenseless pillow even tighter, her posture looking as if she were desperately, suicidally trying to suffocate herself with it. It was a pity, of course, that magical girls, for all their many weaknesses, could not, in fact, die from something so mundane, so pathetic.

She wasn’t trying to do that when she came here, not really—it was just that, before, in the dimensional space, that man, that boy, he had kissed her, hadn’t he?! It was his fault! All his fault!

Finally, as if she had nothing left in the world to lose, she threw the pillow aside with a furious, defiant gesture. Her face was beet-red, a beautiful, tragic shade of crimson, as she glared fiercely, her eyes blazing with a mixture of shame and indignation, at the infuriatingly calm Ren Akiyama. “…You… you kissed me before, didn’t you?! You started it! And… and you even said, you admitted, that you… that you had a… a reaction… to my body… So I just… I just thought, if it was you… you probably wouldn’t… you know… refuse or anything.” Her voice was a small, pathetic, almost inaudible squeak.

…He had to admit, she had him there. Damn it all. Ren truly had no way, no logical argument, to refute that particular and frankly quite incriminating point. To be perfectly, brutally honest, the person he loved, the only person he would ever love, was Hana Tanaka. But if you set aside, for a purely academic, hypothetical moment, the person you loved and were just asked, in a completely objective, non-emotional way, about your personal "type," then yes, lolis were, in fact, more in line with his own deeply ingrained, personal aesthetic preferences. This was a simple, unchangeable matter of pure, academic kink, fetish, and had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with actual, real-world love or affection. It was perfectly normal, he reasoned, for one’s body to have a… physiological… reaction to a preferred visual stimulus; that didn’t mean one would actually, physically act on it. The very reason love was so great, so profound, the very reason humanity was so noble, was precisely because humans, unlike lesser animals, were not completely, hopelessly dominated by their base, primal instincts. Ren Akiyama had always, firmly believed this. It was by following this noble, enlightened principle that he had, step by step, and with much effort, become the outstanding, respectable, and mostly-in-control-of-his-own-body young man he was today.

“And even if we did actually do something like that,” Ren asked again, his voice now gentle but firm, relentlessly pressing his advantage, “would you truly, honestly, with a clear, untroubled conscience, be able to live on as Magical Girl Black after that? Forever?” He pressed on, his logic inescapable. “For example—and I’m just speaking hypothetically here, of course—we know that beings like the warden of the Esper Prison exist, those with the rare, almost cheat-like power to completely nullify other Esper abilities. What if a similar life form, a fiend with that kind of terrifying, power-negating ability, were to suddenly appear before you? What would you do then, Miss Black? When you could no longer be Black?”

Black was silent for a very, very long time. Finally, she whispered, her voice so quiet it was barely audible, “Before… Moeka… Lapis Lazuli… she told me… if a magical girl… gets pregnant… she can never, ever change back.”

Ren Akiyama suddenly, completely stopped talking.

At this precise, world-altering moment, his silence was absolutely, deafeningly, apocalyptically loud.

“I… I didn’t know if what she said was true or not! I really didn’t!” Black stammered, her voice now filled with a desperate, hysterical panic as she saw the look of dawning, abject horror on Ren’s face. “And besides, she herself didn’t seem to be in her magical girl state when she told me, so maybe she was just teasing me! Playing a cruel prank! I… I don’t know her that well, so I have absolutely no idea what she meant by that, what her motives were… I just… I just thought… that if it were possible, if there was even a small chance it was true, I might… I might want to… give it a try…”

So you were just going to jump straight, headfirst, with no regard for consequences, to getting pregnant?! Without any safety measures at all?! Ren thought, his mind reeling in a state of pure cosmic horror. And I was just saying we should order some takeout and get some protection delivered! But you… you were aiming to get pregnant from the very, very beginning! You absolute madman!

Ren’s eyes were wide with a mixture of profound shock and abject, paralyzing terror. He was actually, physically stuttering now. “D-do you have any earthly idea… if you, as Magical Girl Black, got pregnant, and… and it was somehow my child… what would Hana call me?! Her boyfriend and the father of her father’s baby?! And… and what would Hana call your—our—child?! Her half-sibling?! Her step-niece?! Her nephew-in-law?! This is a problem, isn’t it?! This is a BIG, a VERY BIG, a possibly universe-endingly complicated genealogical problem, right?!”

“Well… I… I figured I would just… hide for a while. You know, until things blew over,” Black mumbled weakly, clearly not having thought this through at all.

“You mean, you would just hide at a time like this?! When Strawberry Sweetheart, the strongest hero, has just retired, and when Magical Girl Red, the next great hope, is not yet fully grown or even remotely competent?! You’d abandon the world in its time of need?!” Ren’s voice was rising with incredulity.

“…Aren’t there… aren’t there other Espers? Can’t the world possibly get by for a little while without the great Magical Girl Black?”

Ren Akiyama finally couldn’t take it anymore. With a profound, almost spectacular lack of respect that was, under the circumstances, entirely, completely justified, he reached out and lightly, but very, very firmly, karate-chopped his esteemed father-in-law/magical girl directly on the top of her head. BONK. “Wasn’t it you, you absolute idiot, who was just, not five minutes ago, having a complete existential crisis about needing a sense of identity, a sense of purpose?! If Magical Girl Black’s work can be so easily, so casually replaced by others, then Black’s specialness, her very raison d'être, is completely, utterly diminished! Magical Girl Black must be unique, she must be irreplaceable, for your entire, twisted, new life plan to work! Use your brain, you old fool!”

Magical Girl Black pouted, a gesture that was both ridiculously, heart-stoppingly adorable and deeply, spiritually infuriating. She knew, damn it all, that Ren was absolutely right. She just… she just felt that this little brat was being a little too arrogant, a little too disrespectful, not giving her, his elder, any face at all!

“Well then, what do you think I should do, huh, Mr. Smarty-pants?! You’re the damn Supporter, aren’t you?! The Esper, your client, has a serious, life-altering problem, and you, the Supporter, you can’t think of a single viable solution, you just stand there and spout your smug, condescending, holier-than-thou speeches! Since you don’t approve of my brilliant, if slightly unorthodox method, then you come up with a better, more practical plan! Go on! I’m waiting!” Black, having completely, and with a certain defiant glee, given up on all reason, on all dignity, had now gone on the offensive. She began to playfully, but with a surprising, alarming amount of force, kick and stomp at Ren with her small, delicate, porcelain-like, and currently very bare feet. 

“If you can’t come up with a better plan, you know… then I… I might just have to get a little… rough! And take matters into my own hands!” As she said this, her entire, pretty little face was already as red as a ripe, sun-drenched apple. This was no longer a matter of just being stubborn or putting on a brave face; she was, at this point, genuinely, cripplingly embarrassed.

She knew, of course, on some deep, rational level, that doing this, that forcing herself on her own daughter’s boyfriend, was absolutely, positively wrong. That it would be a terrible, unforgivable betrayal of her precious Hana. But what else could she possibly do?! She was desperate! She was just… borrowing a seed! That’s all! A simple, biological transaction! Afterwards, as long as both she and Ren kept their mouths firmly, permanently shut, as long as this was a dark, terrible secret that only heaven, earth, she, and Ren knew—then it would be, for all intents and purposes, as if it had never, ever happened! A great and probably quite morally bankrupt philosopher had once said that, things that are not observed do not, in fact, exist. So, things that Hana didn’t know about were, by that same flawless logic, equivalent to things that had never, ever happened… That’s just how the world works, right?! Who, after all, doesn’t have a few deep, dark, unseeable secrets they can’t let anyone else know about?

To be perfectly, brutally honest, if you were to ask Ren Akiyama what he was feeling at this precise, highly volatile moment—he was mostly just thinking about going to the organization tomorrow and asking them, with a great deal of urgency, whether Magical Girl Lapis Lazuli’s Prima Materia had actually been extracted or not. Logically, if she had officially retired, there should be no Original Stone, no power left inside her, which would mean she was just an ordinary, if slightly unhinged woman… I really, really want to punch her a couple of times! he thought, a surge of righteous fury coursing through him. What in the world was she thinking, telling Black something so insane, so dangerous? It had put him, Ren, in an incredibly, impossibly dangerous and deeply awkward situation. It seemed he was, at this very moment, about to be forcefully, and with great enthusiasm, assaulted by the one and only Magical Girl Black!

Should I secretly try to call Hana on my phone? For help? But with Black’s terrifying, supernatural speed, she would probably stop him the very instant he so much as reached for his phone. She could even, he knew, snatch the phone from his hand before he pressed the final, life-saving digit of the number. Such a strategy was reckless and had no real courage behind it. But who else, who else in this empty, timeless void, could possibly stop the desperate and currently very hormonal Magical Girl Black?

Ren Akiyama took a deep, steadying, and very final-feeling breath.

No one could save him now. He had to save himself!

Ren knew, with a profound, almost spiritual, almost gut-wrenching certainty, that at a time like this, he absolutely, positively could not back down. Not an inch. If he showed even a single, solitary hint of fear, of hesitation, then today, right here, right now, the already incredibly strange and delicate relationship between himself and Magical Girl Black, between himself and his beloved Hana, would become so incredibly, so irreparably, so disastrously complicated that it might never, ever recover.

He immediately, with a surge of adrenaline, steeled his spirit. He took another deep, shuddering breath. Then, he sat bolt upright, and with a surprising, shocking speed, he grabbed the small, delicate foot that was currently pressing insistently against his chest.

 “Alright then, Black! You win!” he declared, his voice suddenly, shockingly confident. “Since you’ve put it that way, since you’re so very, very insistent, then as your dedicated, and now apparently very accommodating Supporter, I have absolutely nothing left to hesitate about, do I? At the end of the day,” he continued, a dangerous, almost predatory glint in his eye, “I’m not the one who’s at a disadvantage in this particular situation, am I? Not really. At most, it’s just… it’s just like using my own hand for a bit of… stress relief, isn’t it? Nothing to be particularly concerned about. So, I’ll just consider this as… as using the magnificent and apparently very willing Magical Girl Black as some high-quality, interactive, and very realistic fap material. After all,” he added, his smile now positively wolfish, “I hear there are already people online drawing some very detailed, and I must say, very impressive doujinshi of you. So, let’s just do it, then! Let’s get this over with!”

“E-eh?” Black was completely, comically thrown off by his sudden, aggressive reaction. With her foot firmly caught in his hand, she immediately, almost violently began to panic. “Um, th-that is… you… you should probably wait a minute! You… that is… I need some… some mental preparation… or something…”

“Do we really need mental preparation, my dear Black?” Ren purred, his voice now a low, silken, and deeply dangerous whisper. He was going all in. “We’ve already kissed, haven’t we? We’re practically intimate already. You know,” he continued, his voice dropping even lower, “in some of the more… rustic… parts of the world, there’s a rather vulgar, but I find, quite fascinating old custom called ‘scraping the ashes.’ To put it simply, it refers to a rather taboo, but apparently not uncommon immoral relationship between a father-in-law and his daughter-in-law. But speaking of which,” he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear, “this situation between us, a father-in-law and a son-in-law… well, it’s not entirely out of the question, is it, my dear… father?”

As he spoke these shocking, unbelievable words, his hand began to pull Black closer to him, while his other hand, with a slow, deliberate, torturous motion, began to move towards the fragile, silken covering beneath her high-slit cheongsam…

“REN! WAIT! STOP! YOU CAN’T! I WAS JOKING! IT WAS ALL A JOKE!”

In the end, Magical Girl Black, with a final, hysterical shriek, kicked Ren Akiyama away with all her might. When a magical girl enters a state of true, unadulterated panic, even an existence as powerful as Magical Girl Black, cannot calmly, rationally control herself.

Was it, perhaps, the benefit of youth? Or just sheer, dumb luck? In any case, after being sent flying by a single, powerful, and very, very panicked kick, Ren Akiyama simply… passed out and fell soundly asleep.

“Ren! Ren, are you okay?! Wake up! Please wake up!”

A frantic Magical Girl Black immediately, and with much regret and self-loathing, contacted the organization’s emergency services, and Ren Akiyama was rushed, unconscious, to the nearest high-security hospital.

And then, a few hours later, Magical Girl Black, looking very tired and very, very guilty, had to face the cold, hard, and probably very violent interrogation of her own furious daughter.

“Can I,” Hana Tanaka began, her voice dangerously, terrifyingly calm, “ask you something, Dad? Did my boyfriend, Ren Akiyama, do something bad? Something so terrible that it made you, the great and powerful Magical Girl Black, attack him? The doctor said he has a broken rib, you know. He’ll need to rest, to recuperate, for at least a month or two. So tell me, Dad. What exactly happened between you two? In that room?”

Facing her daughter’s cold, accusatory, and frankly quite murderous gaze, Magical Girl Black broke out in a cold, profuse sweat. She stammered, her voice a pathetic, guilty squeak, “Um, that is… well, you see… we were… we were discussing martial arts! Yes! That’s it! Martial arts! I… I was saying I was trying to develop some kind of new… special move… or something… and then… and then I accidentally, you know, hit him… by mistake…” 

“A special move, you say?” Hana repeated the words, her voice dripping with a sarcasm so thick, so potent, you could have spread it on toast. “Then, tell me, Dad. Did you manage to develop it? This amazing, new ‘special move’ of yours?”

“…No,” Black whispered, her head hung in shame.

Hana was so angry, so utterly, completely furious, she could barely speak. But in the end, there was nothing she could do to her own pathetic, magical girl father. Not really.

“I hate you,” she said, her voice a cold, dead whisper. “Right now, I hate you the most in the entire world.”

“No…!” Black whimpered.

So, it turns out, she thought, her heart shattering into a million tiny, irreparable pieces, that even after becoming the mighty, the terrifying, the legendary Magical Girl Black… I’m still, at the end of the day, just a dad who is hated by his own daughter.