Why Is There Such a Thing as an Idol Magical Girl?

Saturday arrived in no time. Yuki Kurokawa changed into casual clothes—a simple white shirt paired with a dark gray long skirt, topped with a light-colored thin jacket. Star-trail sat on her left shoulder as usual, its tail wrapping around the back of her neck to rest gently on her right shoulder.

By the time they emerged from the subway station, Qiluo's main body was fast asleep in bed.

The white building was more low-key than Yuki Kurokawa had expected. It was six stories tall, with a matte ivory-white exterior and a few inconspicuous nameplates hanging by the entrance.

There were no Magical Girl posters, no LED screens showing transformation sequences; it looked just like an ordinary office building.

She triggered the security lock with her mana and followed the signs toward the registration desk on the third floor. The receptionist was a woman who looked to be in her early twenties, wearing rimless glasses, with a well-kept pot of pothos on her desk. When she saw Star-trail on Yuki's left shoulder, her gaze lingered on the silver-white creature for a couple of seconds.

“Newcomer registration. Codename: Snowrealm. Appointment under Mingyue,” Yuki Kurokawa stated.

“...The one on your shoulder is a Contract Spirit, right?” The staff member pushed up her glasses. Her gaze landed on Star-trail, and the electronic pen in her hand froze in midair.

Snowrealm glanced sideways at Star-trail on her shoulder. “Yes. Its name is Star-trail.”

“A Contract Spirit...” The staff member set down her electronic pen and leaned halfway over the counter to closely examine the tiny silver-white creature. “Counting yours, this is only the third Contract Spirit registered with the Association in the past six months.”

Qiluo rolled over, pulling the bedding up to her chin, her fingers slowly tightening against the fabric.

“...Which means I'm a rare animal right now.”

“...Are Contract Spirits very rare?” Snowrealm asked.

The staff member's next words completely chased away any sleepiness Qiluo had left.

“It didn't use to be like this,” the staff member said, leaning back in her chair and absentmindedly touching the leaves of the pothos. “When I say 'used to,' it wasn't actually that long ago—about twenty years. Back then, every Magical Girl had a Contract Spirit, and I mean literally one for everyone. The Contract Spirit was responsible for providing the medium for mana conversion, and the Magical Girl was in charge of fighting. It was a one-on-one partnership, just like you and Star-trail here.”

“Back then, seeing a queue at the Association's registration desk with all kinds of little creatures perched on shoulders was just a normal, everyday sight. Some had wings, some could breathe fire, and some would just curl up into a furball and roll around. My mentor said the registration desk often looked like a zoo.”

“And now?”

“Now, most Contract Spirits are gone.” The staff member took off her glasses to wipe them. “Starting from a certain day, a massive number of Contract Spirits began returning to their original world one after another. No one knows the exact reason. The Association's research department is still writing reports on it to this day—submitting one every year, and having it sent back for a rewrite every year.”

She paused, her tone softening. “Anyway, fewer and fewer Contract Spirits remained. Among the Magical Girls still active on the front lines today, those with an exclusive Contract Spirit are a tiny minority. Most newcomers use contract crystals—crystallized remnants of power left behind by the departed Contract Spirits. Those with the aptitude can directly acquire transformation abilities and standard-spec magic circuits upon obtaining a contract crystal, bypassing the need for a formal contracting process.”

Qiluo chewed on those words repeatedly, then suddenly sat upright. A massive number of Contract Spirits returned to their original world. There had to be some kind of pathway between this world and her original world, or at least there used to be. And that pathway was operating on a large scale at least twenty years ago.

If a large number of Contract Spirits could go back, then theoretically... theoretically, a reverse pathway might also exist!

Snowrealm lowered her head, looking at the back of her left hand. The silver-white star-shaped mark gleamed faintly in the sunlight filtering through the window.

“So most Magical Girls nowadays transform using contract crystals?”

“About eighty percent or more do. Someone like you with an exclusive Contract Spirit is in the minority—actually, you're more like a rare commodity.” The staff member pulled her gaze away from Star-trail and reopened the electronic registration form. “But that's a good thing. A Magical Girl with a Contract Spirit has a growth potential far higher than those using contract crystals. That's probably why Mingyue submitted your appointment first thing this morning; she was likely worried someone else would snatch you up.”

The staff member cleared her throat, steering the electronic registration form back to the main topic. “Anyway, that's not part of the registration. Next is your basic information entry. Codename: Snowrealm. Confirmed. Mana spectrum is...” She looked at the analysis results that automatically popped up on the screen, raising her eyebrows. “Elemental system, ice-attribute bias. No wonder you could coordinate with Mingyue.”

She projected several pages of electronic forms into the air, pointing at a few blank fields to ask Snowrealm for the required information. Her jurisdiction was temporarily registered as a support zone under Mingyue's jurisdiction. Her contact info didn't need to be publicly listed, but she had to leave at least one emergency contact channel.

The combat archives would automatically track combat records through the contract mark. During the initial registration, the applicant had to personally confirm their completed combat data. Snowrealm filled it out line by line. When she reached the combat confirmation section, the staff member scrolled through the list on the screen and read it aloud.

“Up to the point of registration, according to the joint combat report submitted by Mingyue: your first battle was against one low-tier, and the support battle was against one mid-tier plus four low-tiers.”

She turned the form around for Snowrealm to confirm. “For a newcomer whose registration age is less than a month, this record is quite impressive. The Association's newcomer training instructors would probably want to scout you as a model student. In the past, those with records like this either ended up becoming A-rank aces or higher, or debuted as idol Magical Girls.”

Snowrealm was about to sign her codename in the confirmation box, but her finger hovered above the screen and paused.

“Debut? Idol Magical Girls?”

“Idol Magical Girls?!”

“You didn't know?” The staff member blinked, pulling out a stack of colorful brochures from under the counter and spreading them across the desk. The covers featured photos of several Magical Girls dressed in gorgeous, transformed uniforms, complete with stylized names and agency logos printed alongside them.

“You've probably heard of Magical Girl Meruru, right? She's an active Magical Girl registered with the Association. Meruru is the most famous among this batch of idol Magical Girls. Her show airs during prime time, pulling in higher ratings than most variety shows. Last year, she held a solo concert at the Tokyo Dome with a packed house, and you can buy her merchandise at any convenience store.”

Qiluo answered gloomily in her mind.

“Her management team is highly mature. She debuted three years ago and went from a regional idol to a national star. But her combat record is also the real deal; last year, she single-handedly subjugated a disaster-tier Erosion Body, which is recorded in detail in the Association's archives. So she's not just some eye candy who only knows how to sing and dance; she's genuinely strong and just happens to be an idol on the side.”

The staff member was clearly very interested in this topic, pulling out another brochure. “Besides Meruru, there are several regional-level idol Magical Girls. For example, Ouka from the Kansai region, and Toya from the Hokkaido region, each with their own style and fanbase. The idol Magical Girl system has been developing for about ten years now, and there's currently a complete talent agency selection mechanism and debut process.”

“Simply put, if you have the strength and look the part, agencies will actively reach out to sign you. If an agency scout sees your combat data and mana spectrum in the database, they might contact you on their own initiative. Of course, whether you accept or not is entirely up to you.”

Snowrealm looked down at the colorful brochures on the desk. Every Magical Girl on the covers was smiling brightly, their gorgeous transformed uniforms sparkling under professional studio lighting.

“Has Mingyue debuted?” Snowrealm suddenly thought of Mingyue.

The corner of the staff member's mouth twitched—an expression of trying hard to maintain professional decorum but being utterly unable to suppress the urge to gossip.

She pulled out the brochure at the very bottom of the stack and slid it in front of Snowrealm. The cover featured a Magical Girl whose long hair blew in the wind under the moonlight, her skirt draped in cool-toned starlight. She wore a silver mask that covered the upper half of her face, holding a scythe larger than herself. Next to her, stylized letters spelled out her stage name: Tsukiyohime.

“...Tsukiyohime,” Snowrealm read out syllable by syllable. She looked up at the staff member, then down at the brochure, then back up at the staff member. “This is Mingyue?”

“Yes. She debuted three years ago. She was signed at the same time as Meruru under the same agency.”

“So she debuted because—”

“Her own explanation was to subsidize her combat expenses.” The staff member rested her crossed hands on the counter, a hint of subtle admiration in her tone. “Nuomi's mana core needs high-purity magic crystals to sustain itself, and those crystals aren't cheap. So she signed with an agency and debuted as an idol. She took on quite a lot of gigs.”

Star-trail shifted slightly on Snowrealm's shoulder. How is everyone in this world so resilient?

“Is she still doing idol activities now?” Snowrealm asked.

“She didn't renew her contract after it expired last year. Said she didn't want to be managed by an agent and forced to post on social media every day.” The staff member shrugged. “But her fan club is still running. The core fans all know Tsukiyohime is Mingyue, but they have a tacit agreement not to point it out. She keeps her codename and stage name separate to make her respective activities easier. When you met her, she used the codename Mingyue, right? She almost never uses her stage name around other Magical Girls. She seems a bit embarrassed by it.”

“...I think Tsukiyohime is a very pretty name.” Snowrealm pushed the brochure back. She paused, then asked a question that made the staff member stop tidying her desk. “What are the requirements to debut?”

The staff member looked up at her. “The basic requirement is to be an officially registered Magical Girl with the Association, with combat records meeting a certain standard. After that, an agency will send someone to conduct a mana spectrum test and an image evaluation. If you pass, you can sign an exclusive contract. Some Magical Girls choose full contracts, where both combat and entertainment activities are entirely managed by the agency—this offers a higher cut but less freedom. Others choose to sign only agency contracts, handling their own combat missions while the agency manages business deals and promotion. Different agencies have different terms.”

“Do you want to debut?” The staff member studied her expression.

Snowrealm didn't answer immediately.

A Magical Girl standing on a stage could be seen by many people. Yet since childhood, the thing she was most accustomed to was not being seen.

“I was just wondering if my parents would see me if I became famous,” she said very softly, almost as if talking to herself. “Never mind.”

The staff member glanced at her but didn't pry further. She simply placed a blank interest registration form on top of the registration documents. “No rush. If you ever change your mind about debuting, you can come to the Association for a consultation anytime. The registration desk has a list of partner agencies and detailed introductions. You can take them home and look them over at your own pace.”

She pulled a metal badge from her drawer and slid it across the desk. The front was engraved with the Association's star-and-moon crest, while the back featured a serial number and a blank nameplate slot. “This is your official Magical Girl identity badge. Once activated with mana, it will bind to your contract mark. Your serial number is already engraved. You can come back and engrave your name whenever you want.”

Snowrealm picked up the badge and aligned it with the mark on the back of her left hand. Silver-white starlight seeped from the mark into the badge, and the serial number slot lit up, officially activating it. She squeezed the badge in her palm to test its weight, then pinned it to the inside of her jacket.

“Now, next—” Her gaze turned to the silver-white creature on Snowrealm's shoulder. She picked up her electronic pen again and opened a new digital spreadsheet. “Contract Spirit registration. This is the final step for today. Star-trail, right?”

Star-trail hopped down from Snowrealm's shoulder, its four paws landing silently on the registration counter.

It sat upright, its two front paws pressed close together, its tail naturally wrapping around to cover its paw tips. Starlight particles drifted steadily from the end of its tail, scattering a small patch of faint glow across the dark wood grain of the counter.

“Contract Spirit name: Star-trail. Contractor: Snowrealm. Form of existence: Independent entity. Integrity...” The staff member brought a mana detection probe close to Star-trail, and rows of analytical data popped up on the screen. Looking at the display, the finger she had prepared to check the "Confirm" box froze in midair, her lips pursing slightly.

The staff member filled in the remaining fields of the Contract Spirit registration, then compiled the entire registration form into an official archive.

She set down her electronic pen and stood up, extending her hand to Snowrealm. “Welcome officially to the Association, Snowrealm. And welcome to you too, Star-trail.”

“Oh, by the way, since Star-trail is a new Contract Spirit, you'll need to go for a mana physical exam. Remember to get that done later!”

Star-trail lowered its head, gently pressing its forehead against the staff member's outstretched palm.

“As expected, it's so cute! I've always wanted to pet this adorable little thing!”

The staff member finally lost her professional composure. She scooped Star-trail into her arms, vigorously rubbing it while burying her face in its fur to take a deep sniff.

After letting the staff member sniff and cuddle Star-trail for a full minute, Yuki Kurokawa snatched it back from her hands.

“Sorry, sorry! I've wanted to do that ever since the moment I saw Star-trail.” The staff member cleared her throat and put her glasses back on.

Yuki Kurokawa didn't say anything. She simply held Star-trail close, as if using her own scent to mask the staff member's.

Snowrealm carried Star-trail down the stairs, stopping at the landing. She looked down at the silver-white creature still feebly struggling in her arms.

“...Why didn't you run just now?”

The image of Star-trail getting its fur completely disheveled by the staff member was still fresh in her mind. It was currently curled up in her arms like a slightly scruffy ball.

“I didn't react in time,” Star-trail's muffled voice came from the crook of her arm.

“You should have run the moment she reached out.”

“...I'll run next time.”