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Through the ages, many systems of power had relied on magic or miracles: churches, heresy, alchemy, devil worship, folk beliefs, and others. The Magical Kingdom, a utopia of dreams and fantasy, had always cooperated with these organizations in an effort to bring about world peace. In the modern day, they had created the revolutionary subculture that is magical girls. Kind, lovely, beautiful, and strong of heart, these guardians never gave up their mission to protect people. The notion spread far and wide, and more and more girls, boys—and in some cases, even adults—came to idolize magical girls, creating a breeding ground for cultivating potential and actual allies of the Magical Kingdom.
These heroines never revealed themselves. They surreptitiously took root in society and daily life, their activities hardly ever rising to the surface—though the use of the term “hardly ever” naturally meant that it did happen, albeit rarely. There were occasional incidents, but the Magical Kingdom took care of them quietly, altering the memories of those involved, as well as falsifying any government records to make it seem as if nothing had ever happened.
Aside from the “accidents,” there was also publicity. The activities of some magical girls were dramatized, altered, and then distributed as anime and manga. A surprising number of people had either received the blessings of the Magical Kingdom or were its citizens working in this world, and they had considerable sway over production companies and television stations. Normal viewers enjoyed the creative content, never realizing the stories were based on true events. As for the girls, the true heroines, their hearts filled with pride.
Magical Daisy, a television anime that had originally aired years earlier, was one such production. In the show, a magical princess from the World of Flowers transfers to a school in modern-day Japan and causes quite a stir. While normally, she appears to be the kind of middle school student one would find anywhere, when trouble occurs, she transforms into Magical Daisy. Daisy and her sidekick, Palette, are allies of justice, beating the bad guys and helping those in need. However, no one could ever know her true identity, because if that happened, she’d be forced to return to the World of Flowers.
The anime Magical Daisy was based off the activities of a real magical girl. Her being a princess and transferring to a Japanese school was fiction, but the rest generally stuck closely to the source.
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Somewhere, a dog was howling.
A drunk lay passed out spread-eagle in the middle of the alley. When Magical Daisy picked him up, the stench of alcohol stung her nose. He muttered nasty things to her, like “You got a problem with me?” and “You piece of shit!” but he was basically talking in his sleep. He wasn’t aware of himself.
She searched through the leather bag that she presumed was his and pulled his license out of his wallet. She checked his address, hoisted him over her shoulder, and dashed off toward his home. Once there, she laid him at the front door and rang the doorbell.
A middle-aged woman, probably his wife, shouted from inside, “Where the hell were you?!”
Now Magical Daisy’s mission was complete, but she’d only managed to help one person. She hadn’t completed her quota for the night. Next, she would head downtown and patrol. After scouring the area to make sure there was no trouble, no disputes, she would finally head home.
She hopped on the train from her university, and in fifteen minutes, she was in the downtown district under her care. From there, it was four stations and hardly a five-minute walk to her cheap, one-story apartment building—basically a town house—in her quiet, residential neighborhood. In one of these rooms was Kiku Yakumo’s home.
Her ceiling, barely thicker than plywood, was sand-textured plaster that would break with a single strike. Her bathroom had a traditional squat toilet, and if she wanted to wash, she went to the neighborhood bathhouse. But worst of all, her landlord was a jerk—a judgmental, gossipy nag. Kiku lived there only because the rent was cheap.
“I’m home.”
Habits formed over many years didn’t change overnight, and her voice echoed in the empty room. The walls were as thin as you could get, so the other tenants around her had probably heard. Maybe her neighbors thought she was lonely.
She couldn’t argue with that assessment.
Taking two pieces of chewing gum from the plastic case on the low table, she popped them in her mouth and started chewing. She tossed her school tote bag onto her folded-up futon, sat next to it, and sighed. Feeling about ready to collapse, she leaned back on her arms.
Back in middle school, during her heyday as Magical Daisy, she’d always had so much fun. In high school, she’d resolved every major case, and eventually, her sidekick, Palette, had returned to the Magical Kingdom. The two of them must have shed nearly a gallon’s worth of tears the day they parted ways. Kiku wouldn’t have denied being lonely, but she’d still been able to text Palette with her magical phone, and Magical Daisy was being adapted into an anime. Daisy had no idea what kind of connections the Magical Kingdom had in her world, but the story in the anime had reflected reality quite closely. Despite its relatively average popularity, the show had received decent reviews and continued in a second season, released as an OVA. While she was working hard on her patrols, Kiku had also often gleefully posted on the Magical Daisy forums online and checked sales data on tracking sites.
Then she’d started university.
Kiku had ended up in a very average university. She might have been able to aim for a better one if she’d studied harder, but prioritizing her magical-girl activities hadn’t left much time for schoolwork. As a defender of justice, she couldn’t skip out on training, patrolling, and beating bad guys.
She’d stopped talking to her friends from middle and high school, and there was no one at her university she might call a friend. It wasn’t uncommon for her to leave the house and come back without having uttered a single word.
Her living situation was terrible. Her magical-girl activities took up most of her time, meaning she couldn’t work a part-time job. Her family ran a small workshop in town, and because of the recession, they were just barely scraping by. Kiku was grateful to even receive an allowance. Her clothes all came from big wholesalers, though lately she hadn’t bought any. She didn’t know the first thing about makeup. She had no qualifications. She didn’t even have a driver’s license. These were all things she’d considered unnecessary as a magical girl, and she was fine with that. In private, she suffered, but out in the world, she kept up with her supernatural responsibilities. To Kiku, that was what it meant to be a hero.
But lately, she was starting to question the role. The life of her alter ego didn’t have that same glow it’d had in middle school—this secretive heroism where she had to carefully avoid showing herself to anyone. Apparently, there had been some experimental trials that used curated sites and the like to publicize the existence of magical girls a little more, but thanks to a certain series of events, the project had fizzled out. Kiku continued her low-key activities, evading the public eye, sneaking, hiding, never receiving any praise or thanks from the people she helped.
If only she’d studied a little more. Goofed off a little more. Worn fancy clothes, gotten boys to talk to her. Kiku had never even done karaoke before. She wanted to try bowling, too. Where was her future headed? How long would she be a magical girl? Doubts filled her mind as she helped people in need.
It was starting to rain, and she could hear the droplets splashing against the corrugated roof. She hated that sound; it represented exactly how tough her life had become. As she heaved another deep sigh, her magical phone began playing the opening theme to Magical Daisy to alert her to a new message.
Was it a whiny text from Palette? Or possibly an emergency message from the Magical Kingdom? She shuffled across the tatami mats on her knees, grabbed the magical phone, and opened her inbox.
“Magical Girl…Raising Project?” That sounded familiar. Kiku could’ve sworn she’d heard of a similar mobile game before. Was it an advertisement for the game, then? Or some kind of prank? She decided it was best to delete it and tapped the button to do so.
“…Huh?” But she couldn’t. She tried pressing harder, thinking the touch screen might be screwy, but nothing happened. The words scrolled smoothly down, ignoring her input. After a few blocks of explanatory text, the final line of the e-mail hit the screen.
The game will now begin.
Kiku squinted as the plain serif typeface suddenly radiated with all the colors of the rainbow.