Chapter 8: The Attack

“Ren! Quick! You absolutely have to download the ‘Magical Girl Brawl’ app right now! Like, this very second!” Hana bounced on the balls of her feet, her eyes sparkling with an almost religious fervor. “There’s this super exclusive event going on—if you attend the concert and collect all the event stamps, you get a special chance to pull Magical Girl Black in the gacha! She’s a totally broken, SSS-tier, meta-defining character! I tried to get her before, you know, did like fifty pulls, maybe more, and got absolutely nothing but useless R-rank fodder! It was a tragedy!”

On their way to the concert venue, practically vibrating with excitement, Hana was chattering a mile a minute to a slightly bewildered Ren. “Right now, on all the official power ranking forums and tier lists, the only one who can even dream of going toe-to-toe with Black in a serious one-on-one fight is Strawberry Sweetheart’s ultra-rare ‘Shining Radiance’ form! But that character is, like, a super exclusive reward for hitting an insanely high spending tier in the game… If I actually dropped 1.2 milion yen on a stupid mobile game, my old man would literally, actually, no-kidding murder me! And then probably ground me for eternity!”

"Magical Girl Brawl" was, without a doubt, the hottest, most popular, and most wallet-drainingly addictive game currently dominating the market. It was, of course, officially released and heavily promoted by the Hero Organization itself—a brilliant, if slightly insidious, marketing strategy. Various forms, iterations, and seasonal variants of magical girls from throughout history (and even some from alternate timelines, according to the lore) were lovingly rendered as highly collectible, beautifully illustrated cards. Each card came complete with meticulously calculated stats derived from rigorous observation and complex algorithmic analysis, creating a relatively objective (or so the developers claimed) power scaling system that was generally, if sometimes grudgingly, accepted by the numerous, highly opinionated "power level enthusiasts" and obsessive theory crafters within the game’s massive fanbase.

Of course, although cards for all sort of magical girls from all eras were technically available in the gacha pool, savvy players clearly, and with ruthless efficiency, favored the magical girls who were currently active, relevant, and dominating the global fiend-fighting stage. Thus, the commonly used, top-tier, meta-relevant team compositions basically consisted of fewer than ten core characters. The newly debuted, enigmatic, and undeniably terrifying Magical Girl Black was precisely one of these currently trending, high-profile, must-have characters. If you didn’t have Black on your team, you were basically a gacha scrub.

Aha! So that’s why so many of those intense, power-level-obsessed fans showed up yesterday, looking like they were about to engage in a heated academic debate over damage-per-second calculations! So it was because attending the concert gave them a chance to enter some kind of exclusive in-game lottery? No wonder the organization always gives off such an air of being obscenely loaded with cash. They really have a lot of creative, if slightly predatory, ways to… uh… generate revenue, don’t they! This is brilliant! And slightly evil!

He finally, finally understood why Black’s public popularity, despite her abrasive personality, seemed to have suddenly, inexplicably skyrocketed. And why so many people were almost desperately eager to get a cherished photo with Black for their "event stamp rally"—it was all to participate in that cursed, addictive gacha event! The things people would do for a chance at a top-tier waifu…

But… wait a minute. A sudden, unsettling thought struck Ren. Could it be that… no one genuinely, truly likes Magical Girl Black for who she actually is? Are they all just after her in-game stats?

A profound, almost crushing sense of mission suddenly washed over Ren Akiyama. Even though he was just a lowly intern, a rookie Supporter still wet behind the ears, he felt a strong, undeniable, almost sacred need to help the misunderstood Magical Girl Black turn her current, rather depressing, public image around. To show the world the real Black! (Whatever that was. He was still working on that part.)

However, for today… for Hana’s sake…

He glanced at the bubbly, excitedly chattering, gacha-obsessed girl beside him, her eyes shining with anticipation. Then, with a small, resigned sigh, he silently took out his smartphone and began downloading the "Magical Girl Brawl" game. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll get lucky with my beginner pulls. For Hana.

......

There they are! Oh god, oh god, they’re actually here!

It’s Hana! And Ren! My daughter! And my future son-in-law! Sitting right there! In the front rows! Staring at me! This is a nightmare! A waking nightmare!

To be perfectly, brutally honest, Kenji Tanaka, the jaded, world-weary corporate drone, felt his entire carefully constructed professional mindset undergo a dramatic, earth-shattering shift in that single, heart-stopping instant. Previously, he had, with great effort, managed to treat being a magical girl as just another unpleasant, soul-crushing job. A necessary evil. As a competent, responsible member of society (or so he liked to tell himself), if it was work, it simply had to be done, no matter how embarrassing, demeaning, or utterly ridiculous the task might be. That was the salaryman way.

But now, seeing them there, in the audience, looking up at him (or rather, at Magical Girl Black)… it felt… different! Completely, terrifyingly different!

The thought of his own precious daughter, Hana, and his future son-in-law, Ren, watching him, Kenji Tanaka, prance around on stage in a frilly, gothic magical girl outfit… Magical Girl Black, for some inexplicable, deeply mortifying reason, suddenly felt a hot wave of almost maidenly shyness wash over her. Her cheeks burned under the heavy stage makeup. This is mortifying! And… and kind of thrilling in a really, really weird way? No, no, definitely just mortifying! Focus, Kenji, focus!

Standing beside her, the ever-perceptive Strawberry Sweetheart, a true professional, noticed this subtle, almost imperceptible shift in her partner’s demeanor. The pink-themed magical girl, a vision of sugary sweetness and light, looked over with genuine concern in her big, innocent eyes. “Black? Are you okay? Your face is really, really red. Like, super red. Are you feeling okay? You’re not coming down with some kind of sudden, stress-induced magical fever, are you?”

“Ah! I-I’m perfectly fine! It’s none of your goddamn business! Mind your own sparkly, overly saccharine, pink affairs!” Black snapped, her voice a little too high-pitched, a little too defensive. Smooth, Kenji, real smooth. Nailed it.

Strawberry Sweetheart gave a slightly awkward, forced laugh. Although she knew, from painful experience, that Black wasn’t exactly the easiest person in the universe to get along with, after working closely with her these past few chaotic days, she’d discovered that the girl (or so she assumed) was mostly just sharp-tongued and prone to fits of theatrical rage; underneath that gruff, intimidating exterior, she was actually, in her own terrifying, slightly unhinged way, quite cute. Or at least, interesting. At the very least, she was incredibly, almost obsessively, hardworking when it came to her job, and her on-stage mistakes and awkward blunders were noticeably, impressively, decreasing with each performance. Clearly, despite her perpetually grumpy attitude, she was a very serious and dedicated individual. A tsundere, maybe? A really, really scary tsundere?

In fact, partnering with Black was, surprisingly, quite comfortable, once you got past the constant death glares and muttered threats. As the undisputed number one magical girl on the popularity charts, Strawberry Sweetheart had extensive, almost encyclopedic experience operating as a magical girl, including numerous high-stakes assignments collaborating with other magical girls from around the world for both intense fiend battles and equally intense promotional performances. Truth be told, she found working with Black to be a refreshingly straightforward, no-nonsense experience. After all, magical girls were a notoriously eclectic, often prima-donna-ish bunch, each with their own distinct, often dramatically clashing, personalities and egos. Some were genuinely, soul-crushingly difficult to work with, their egos too large to fit in the same stadium, or their personal quirks too bizarrely pronounced. Black’s type, while seemingly irritable, and her fighting style brutally, almost terrifyingly direct, was surprisingly easy to get along with, in a professional sense. She never seemed to hold petty grudges or get pointlessly, diva-ishly difficult over trivial matters. She just wanted to get the job done, preferably with minimal human interaction.

“Well then, my adoring fans, shall we officially begin this magical evening!”

As Strawberry Sweetheart suddenly, dramatically, raised her hand, a hush fell over the previously noisy, expectant venue. The entire stadium seemed to hold its breath. This girl, it seemed, was quite literally born to be under the spotlight, to effortlessly command the rapt attention of thousands with a single, graceful gesture.

During these past two whirlwind days of intense collaboration, Black had also keenly, almost reverently, felt the immense, almost palpable influence that a "true magical girl," a genuine idol of hope and justice, possessed. This wasn't some silly, make-believe fantasy character from a pre-Esper era children’s storybook; this was a real, flesh-and-blood, honest-to-goodness magical girl, existing right here, right now, in the human world, risking her life, her youth, her everything, to protect humanity from the forces of darkness! It was… unexpectedly, profoundly humbling. And a little bit terrifying.

“Everyone! My beloved fans! Welcome, welcome, welcome to our show~~!”

Strawberry Sweetheart’s sweet, melodious voice, perfectly amplified by the state-of-the-art sound system, resonated with warmth and joy throughout the massive, packed venue. “Won’t you all sing ‘The Sweetest Strawberry Pudding in the World’ along with me? Pretty please with a giant, sparkly cherry on top! Let’s make some magic together!”

“YEAAAAAAAH!!! STRAWBERRY! STRAWBERRY! STRAWBERRY!!!”

The roar from the audience was like a physical tidal wave, a tsunami of pure, unadulterated adoration, so powerful that even standing firmly on the reinforced stage, Black could feel the slight, almost imperceptible tremor under her feet. Hmph. This level of concentrated sonic force… I could easily withstand it… probably. Maybe.

Her gaze, carefully, subtly, almost imperceptibly, drifted towards Hana and Ren in the front rows. She saw her daughter’s ecstatic, almost feverish expression, her eyes shining with pure, unadulterated joy… an expression of such innocent happiness that she hadn’t seen on Hana’s face in a very, very long, and painful, time… A strange, unfamiliar warmth spread through Black’s chest.

"The Sweetest Strawberry Pudding in the World" was a legendary song, composed by a once-famous, world-renowned musician after he had been miraculously rescued from the clutches of a particularly nasty fiend by the one and only Strawberry Sweetheart. Utterly redeemed and inspired by her sweet, radiant smile and unwavering courage, he had been struck by a sudden, divine burst of creative inspiration and had immediately composed this piece, which was now widely, universally considered to be Strawberry Sweetheart’s signature theme song, her personal battle anthem.

Seeing her daughter’s incredibly excited, almost worshipful face, Black took a deep, steadying breath, exchanged a quick, almost imperceptible, professional glance with Strawberry Sweetheart, and then—the sweet, surprisingly harmonious voices of the two magical girls finally soared, blending seamlessly with the upbeat, infectious instrumental accompaniment.

“Strawberry pudding~ so sweet and so bright~, a magical dream in the day and the night~…”

The song was lively, cheerful, and unapologetically saccharine, without any particularly deep or profound lyrical meaning. But for the people of this chaotic, fiend-infested era, for the devoted, adoring fans of magical girls, this song signified something far more important: Strawberry Sweetheart’s ever-present, heart-calming, joyous smile appearing right before their weary eyes, a beacon of hope in a dark world.

“Aaah! Strawberry Pudding!!! I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH! IT’S MY JAM!”

Hana was so excited she practically bounced out of her seat, waving her glow stick with wild abandon. She had adored magical girls with a burning passion since she was a little kid. Opportunities like this, to see a real, live concert, to be in the same room as her idols, were incredibly rare and unbelievably precious! This was the best day ever!

Ren, of course, was genuinely happy for her, truly. Her joy was infectious. But…

His gaze, more often than not, found itself inexplicably drawn to the dark, enigmatic figure of Magical Girl Black.

Today’s Black… she felt different. Completely, utterly, almost uncannily different!

If he were to use some rather… unprofessionally suggestive… phrasing to describe it, it would be that… today, for the first time, Magical Girl Black actually had a sparkle in her eyes! A genuine, undeniable, almost human sparkle!

Yes, if her previous, rather wooden performances had felt like she was merely, grudgingly going through the motions, reluctantly completing some tedious, contractually obligated task, then today’s performance… today, it felt like she was genuinely, earnestly, almost desperately trying to show her true self, her hidden depths, to someone specific in the audience! That she genuinely, deeply wanted someone particular to see her perform, to acknowledge her!

Moreover, that faint, almost imperceptible blush dusting her cheeks… Black’s stamina was legendarily, almost inhumanly high; a concert of this relatively low intensity was practically a light warm-up for her, resulting in almost no discernible physical exertion. She definitely wasn’t blushing because she was tired or out of breath. So, was it nervousness? Stage fright? No, if it were simple stage fright, that should have manifested much more strongly, more disastrously, in the first couple of days of the tour…

It’s… it’s love! It has to be! The data all points to it!

The thought struck Ren with the force of a divine, gacha-fueled revelation. Eureka!

When people talked about magical girls, when they theorized about the mysterious source of their incredible powers, it was commonly, almost universally, believed that their power originated from the boundless, infinite wellspring of love! As the old, cheesy saying goes, the power of love is infinite, capable of conquering all obstacles. Magical girls, these unique, almost mythical life forms, gained strength, unlocked new abilities, and manifested different, increasingly sparkly forms through powerful, positive emotions like love, hope, courage, and an unwavering belief in the power of friendship.

So, even the terrifying, emotionally constipated Magical Girl Black! Could she… could she also be susceptible to the tender, bewildering throes of love? Was it even possible?

And if so, who, who in this crazy, mixed-up world was the impossibly fortunate, or perhaps incredibly unfortunate, object of her affections? The recipient of Magical Girl Black’s… love?

As a competent, dedicated, and slightly obsessive Supporter, Ren knew, with absolute certainty, that he had to find out this crucial piece of information. He needed to provide appropriate, sensitive assistance in this incredibly delicate, potentially volatile matter. It was his duty as a Supporter! His sacred vow! His reason for existing! (Okay, maybe not his entire reason for existing, but it was definitely up there on the list now.)

And then… as if guided by some unseen force, by the very hand of destiny itself… he noticed it.

Black’s gaze, those intense, usually unreadable eyes, kept drifting, again and again, almost magnetically, towards his specific section of the audience.

Yes, it definitely, absolutely wasn’t his imagination. He was a trained observer, after all! Her eyes were frequently, almost consistently, landing right where he was sitting! Next to Hana!

At first, he’d dismissed it as just a coincidence, a random glance. Or perhaps, because he and Black were now, in a strictly professional, working capacity, semi-acquaintances, so it was only natural for her to occasionally glance his way, to check if her Supporter was still conscious and not having a panic attack. But—her gaze was lingering. Frequently. Too frequently for it to be mere coincidence. There was an undeniable intensity to it.

What… what does this mean? What are the implications? My mind is racing with possibilities! Mostly terrifying ones!

Suddenly, a rather unsettling, deeply alarming, and frankly pants-wettingly terrifying possibility bloomed in Ren’s overactive, analytical mind. His heart gave a sudden, panicked lurch, thumping wildly against his ribs like a trapped bird. However, ever the professional, he decided to observe further, to gather more concrete, irrefutable data before jumping to any horrifying, life-altering conclusions. Stay calm, Akiyama. Analyze. Observe. Do not hyperventilate.

Beside him, Hana was still completely, blissfully oblivious, her attention entirely, rapturously captivated by the dazzling, sugary-sweet performance of her beloved idol, Strawberry Sweetheart. She had absolutely no idea that her boyfriend’s gaze was not, in fact, on the most popular, most beloved magical girl on the stage, but was instead intently, almost obsessively, focused on Magical Girl Black’s every subtle movement, every fleeting expression, every potentially significant twitch of an eyebrow.

Black had debuted relatively recently, so although this concert was technically a joint performance with the much more established Strawberry Sweetheart, apart from the show-stopping opening number, they mostly sang in alternating sets. Black, to fill her time, performed a selection of older, well-loved classic magical girl anthems, songs that were guaranteed crowd-pleasers.

Most of the audience had, of course, come primarily for the megastar, Strawberry Sweetheart, but…

“Hey, psst! Don’t you think Black seems… like, especially, almost impossibly cute today, somehow? Is it just me, or is she actually… smiling a little?”

“Totally! Dude, I was here yesterday too, and today’s Black feels like a completely different person! It’s like night and day! She doesn’t have that scary, ‘don’t even breathe in my general direction or I’ll end your entire bloodline’ vibe today—she’s actually way, way cuter than I ever imagined! I’m definitely adding Black to my official oshi list! Tonight, I’m grinding the gacha until I pull her SSR card, even if it bankrupts me!”

“Me too! Black-tan for the absolute win! My new goddess!”

Comments like these, whispered in hushed, excited tones, began to circulate like wildfire among the more observant audience members during Black’s solo segments.

Ren took these comments in, a thoughtful, almost triumphant expression on his face. Clearly, Black’s unusual, almost uncharacteristically soft demeanor had caught everyone’s attention. For a magical girl, especially one with Black’s… challenging… public image, this was undoubtedly a very good thing. After all, magical girls were often, almost by definition, synonymous with cuteness, charm, and approachability. If Black’s popularity could genuinely increase, if people could see past the scary exterior… it would be a massive positive development. A victory for Supporters everywhere!

But if… if his terrifying, dawning suspicion was correct…

Before Ren could fully organize his chaotic, rapidly spiraling thoughts, just as Magical Girl Black was hitting a particularly powerful, surprisingly melodic high note, a flurry of dark, ominous, flame-wreathed bandages suddenly, silently, descended from the shadowy rafters above the stage, simultaneously, viciously attacking both Strawberry Sweetheart and Magical Girl Black with deadly precision!

A huge, choking cloud of dust and acrid smoke billowed across the brightly lit stage, obscuring everything from view. Panic erupted.

“They’re here! Just as I predicted!”

Ren’s expression changed instantly, his easygoing demeanor vanishing, replaced by the sharp, focused intensity of a seasoned professional. Before the stunned audience even had time to fully process what was happening, before the screams truly began, he turned to a wide-eyed, suddenly pale Hana. “Hana, quick! I need you to cast a sound amplification spell for me! Now!”

Hana, bless her quick reflexes, finally snapped out of her starstruck shock, her eyes wide with a mixture of alarm and dawning comprehension. She immediately did as Ren asked, her hands glowing faintly with magical energy.

“ATTENTION EVERYONE!” Ren’s amplified voice boomed with authority through the suddenly chaotic venue, cutting through the rising tide of panic. “A FIEND ATTACK IS CURRENTLY IN PROGRESS! PLEASE EVACUATE ACCORDING TO THE EMERGENCY DRILLS YOU HAVE ALL PRACTICED! I REPEAT, A FIEND ATTACK IS IN PROGRESS! PLEASE EVACUATE IN AN ORDERLY, CALM FASHION, FOLLOWING THE INSTRUCTIONS OF THE VENUE STAFF! WITH THE BRAVE STRAWBERRY SWEETHEART AND THE POWERFUL MAGICAL GIRL BLACK ON THE SCENE, THE FIEND WILL UNDOUBTEDLY BE SWIFTLY DEFEATED! PLEASE REMAIN CALM AND DO NOT PANIC! YOUR SAFETY IS OUR UTMOST PRIORITY!”

He immediately, concisely relayed this critical information to the stunned, terrified audience, giving the confused, milling crowd a clear, decisive course of action. People, jolted by his authoritative voice, quickly began to evacuate in a surprisingly orderly fashion, under the guidance of the already mobilized venue staff.

“Hana! You evacuate first! Get to safety! I’ll go help guide the rest of the audience and coordinate with security!” Ren yelled over the din.

“No way! I’m going with you! I can help!” Hana declared, her eyes blazing with a fierce, protective determination. She wasn’t just some damsel in distress!

Ren hesitated for only a fraction of a second, seeing the unwavering resolve in her eyes. He then grabbed Hana’s hand tightly. “Alright! Okay! Let’s go together! But you have to stick close to me, and whatever you do, don’t get separated! Understand?”

At that precise moment, a dazzling, almost blinding burst of pure pink light pierced through the billowing, acrid smoke. In that brilliant flash, both magical girls had fully reverted to their combat-ready, armored Dress forms.

Strawberry Sweetheart, a vision in her signature frilly pink magical girl attire, her expression now grim and determined, raised her ornate, glowing staff, aiming it decisively at a shadowy, menacing figure perched high in the darkened stands.

“You despicable, cowardly fiend! Attacking a concert filled with innocent people! Strawberry Sweetheart will make you pay! I will punish you severely in the name of love, justice, and good music!”

She immediately, gracefully, soared into the sky, a pink comet of righteous fury.

“Strawberry Sweetheart, you annoying little pest! I’m not here for you today. Get out of my way, or I’ll swat you like the insignificant fly you are!” As the fiend’s grating, arrogant voice echoed through the stadium, a flurry of jet-black, razor-sharp bandages shot out from its shadowy form with incredible, terrifying speed, lashing out at Strawberry Sweetheart and sending her careening through the air, dozens of meters away, with a startled yelp.

The figure then leaped acrobatically from the stands, landing heavily on the damaged stage, countless more black bandages writhing around it like a nest of malevolent, shadowy tentacles. Its burning eyes fixed on its true target.

“MAGICAL GIRL BLACK! I’VE FINALLY FOUND YOU! I’VE COME FOR YOU—TO EXACT MY BLOODY, LONG-AWAITED REVENGE!”