Mana
She’d felt the Inspection Department was being made light of many times before. It had happened enough times that even a younger member like Mana had experienced it more than once. Veterans would have gone through it even more frequently.
There was no shortage of self-important mages who would very casually, like it was nothing at all, poke their noses into an investigation or force them to take certain people on. They never gave the slightest consideration to how that polluted the department’s independence.
No inspector wanted outsiders butting in on a case. Mana was not the only person who didn’t even want to think about investigating in cooperation with someone-or-other whom she had only just met.
But just this once, she would drop her pride as an inspector and hang-ups as an investigator and also forget what her superiors had told her.
Right now, mages were gathered around the barrier that surrounded Umemizaki Junior High. They were just like ants swarming sugar candy, waving their staffs as they hemmed and hawed, looking at the data and tilting their heads, casting spells, and arguing with each other. Even putting all the members of the Inspection Department together, you wouldn’t have this many people.
There were the Puk Faction mages that Uluru had called and then more mages who’d been called after that. Magical Girl Resources had sent the most mages of all.
Mana had invited the Management Department chief. She’d figured there was no helping it if he refused to come, but the stubborn and experienced old mage flew right over and said, “The magical girl I recommended goes there.”
The Lab and the Information Bureau had come even though they hadn’t been invited, and then once that had happened, apparently the R&D Department had also had to come, and Mana had used all of her tiny authority to accept all of them and assign them to taking down the barrier.
Mana would not be involved in the barrier takedown. Her specialty was pharmacy. Her job right now was to keep them from fighting and also from anything else that was needless.
“Over here! Over here!” Uluru was waving both hands. “Hurry, hurry!”
Mana raced toward her. Many mages had gathered, and in their center, an old woman with such deep wrinkles on her face you didn’t even know where her eyes were anymore swung her staff and chanted a spell. The view that had been hazy behind the barrier became clear, and a hole big enough for one person to get through opened up, and the mages all applauded and went, “Ohhh.” But it immediately went back to how it had been before.
The disappointment immediately switched back to bickering.
“We still haven’t elucidated the technique.”
“How about a Sataborn-style new-type dispel?”
“If we go with multiple people at once, then we might be able to get effects to the same extent.”
“That was just a moment, at most!”
“I dislike this destructive approach, as opposed to unlocking it. It’s far too barbaric. No different from brigands. Unlocking is where the real craftsmanship is. Even a fool can destroy the lock itself.”
“Who’s the fool here? You can’t even do it!”
“They want us to remove the whole barrier more skillfully, all in one go. So proceed with the analysis.”
“You’re always like this.”
Uluru clung to the old woman’s sleeve. “Do that thing you did one more time! I’ll go in quick!”
Mana peeled Uluru away and bowed to the old woman. “I would ask that of you as well, please! If you could!”
The old woman mumbled something. Even though the spell she’d chanted had been clear, when she spoke, it was so indistinct, Mana couldn’t make out what she was saying.
“Me too,” came a voice.
Mana turned around. An old man with a long white beard and a tripointed hat, the Management Department chief Ragi Zwe Nento took his hat in hand and bowed his head deeply.
“Please,” he said.
The old woman mumbled something and gave a little nod.
The chant resumed. The spell was clear, and her staff swung just as sharply as that of any young person.
✦ ✦ ✦
Mephis Pheles
The principal had boasted about how the black Snow White’s body was specially made. And thinking back on how the Lightnings had actually conducted themselves, Mephis believed it. The homunculus had been a head or two above anyone else in that place, or maybe even stronger than that. It was frustrating, like acknowledging her own powerlessness, but without the black Snow White, the courtyard would have fallen.
They’d said that, back then, the homunculus hadn’t used any magic to read minds like the real Snow White, and the real Snow White entering her wouldn’t make her weaker. So they had thought.
But in actuality, Snow White was the most weakened of them all. Her legs were slower than Mephis’s, and she tended to fall behind, and when she did speed up, she would suddenly try to charge into the wall.
The principal had also said—rather proudly—that she wasn’t just physically strong, she also was particularly resistant to magic. Mephis had cursed at her, saying, “So then are we mass-market products?!” But having one high-quality product should have been something to rely on. At the very least, if it were as the principal had explained, it would have been.
Kana had said with certainty that the principal was not lying. So then was Snow White unable to wield her body to its fullest, after suddenly swapping bodies? That didn’t seem to be the case. Because even after Mephis had just had her body swapped, she had been able to act normally. Though she didn’t want to remember that stuff.
Mephis supported Snow White from her right, helping her up. Tetty was supporting her from the other side, but her face was pale, too, and she was trembling as she walked. Mephis could understand that feeling painfully well. If Mephis had been doing this march on her own, she would have been trembling and pale-faced, and maybe she would have turned back without taking a single step.
“Seriously, you okay?” Mephis asked Snow White.
“Somehow.”
“Somehow? Come on.”
“These voices… My magic…is picking up strange voices…”
If it wasn’t a physical issue, but a mental one, then that was even worse.
The moss-covered path couldn’t be called a path; they were sinking to their ankles with green sap flowing, their noses were wrinkling from the grassy smell, and despite how the way was straight and impossible to stray from, they didn’t feel like they were walking the right path. And most of all, they could hear those voices. It was Kumi-Kumi’s and Lillian’s voices.
When they had entered this maze, they had planned to save Kumi-Kumi and Lillian, pick them up, and go back. Mephis had even imagined both of them being lost, Kumi-Kumi on the verge of tears and Lillian consoling her. But from walking, Mephis had quickly realized that she had been optimistic. Even knowing that it was Kumi-Kumi’s and Lillian’s voices, she couldn’t tell what they were saying. And those voices had been following them the whole time. She doubted that the two of them were still okay.
Kana had said Adelheid was dead. Kana wanted to yell at her and call her a liar, but it was seeming to Mephis herself that it was no lie. There was no reason for Kana to tell such a pointless lie, and she wasn’t the type to lie like that. Kana herself remained at the ruins entrance to fight off the enemy, despite being in tatters herself. She had said she would fight them off, but most likely she just planned to slow them down or buy time. All beaten up from her loss, her still being beat up while you added in Calkoro and the principal wasn’t going to do anything. Even Mephis understood that, so there was no way an important mage like Kana wouldn’t.
Wheezing, Mephis was just barely managing to walk. It did not seem like she could rely on Tetty or Snow White.
…Shit! “Can’t rely on them,” the hell is that?!
She should just be the one to rely on. She would help out those who didn’t seem like they could be relied on. That’s what Kana would say if she was here, while quoting a line from some manga with a knowing look. How aggravating.
“Hey, Tetty,” Mephis said.
Tetty looked at her fearfully.
Mephis met Tetty’s gaze, putting her will, anger, and reassurance in her expression—or so she meant to—and reached out a hand. “Here.”
She clasped Tetty’s mitten, and it just didn’t feel right, so she put her hand inside the mitten and clasped her hand tight. The fear faded from Tetty’s expression, and surprise surfaced. Mephis turned away from Tetty and faced forward. Even if it was a boring view all buried in green, she figured there was meaning in looking ahead.
In elementary school, the first half of it, she had held hands with Tetty on the way to and from school. She didn’t know if Tetty remembered that, but at the very least, Mephis did. Once they’d become able to turn into magical girls, the size of their hands and their strength had changed, but strangely, she felt like the warmth hadn’t.
On Mondays, her feet had always felt heavy as she walked to school. In the sense of having heavy feet, huffing and puffing along this narrow path filled with moss wasn’t all that different, perhaps.