Qiluo pushed open the door to her apartment, kicked off her shoes, and took off her coat, draping it over the edge of a cardboard box.
She walked over to the low table and sat down, placing the completely cooled cup of taro paste boba on the corner of the table. Then, she crossed her legs and rested her chin on her knees.
“Alright, time to organize!” she said, pretending she was speaking to another Qiluo Tian Gong.
Yuki Kurokawa had an online mock exam tonight from eight to ten. Star-trail crouched by the desk the entire time, acting as a “no slacking allowed” exam proctor beast.
Qiluo took a peek through their shared senses. Yuki Kurokawa was frowning at the screen, her fingers flying across the keyboard. Star-trail’s tail gently brushed against her wrist, reminding her that there were twenty minutes left. Everything was normal.
She turned the sensory sharing with Star-trail down to the minimum and pulled her full attention back to her own side.
First up was Night Sakura. Qiluo pulled out the temporary communication frequency card Night Sakura had handed her tonight and placed it on the low table.
The card was handwritten on the back of a convenience store receipt. Written in purple highlighter was the frequency number and a note: “Online twenty-four hours a day, but no guarantees on an instant reply — Night Sakura.”
Printed on the front of the receipt was today's date and a purchase record for milk tea. She flipped the card over and over, then placed it inside a drawer, putting it on the same layer as the receipt with the smiley face from before.
She closed the drawer. Night Sakura was actually a good kid. Although she had secretly described Qiluo’s hands in her observation report, she had never proactively pried into Qiluo’s real identity before she agreed to join.
This kind of sense of boundaries was extremely rare for someone who acted so familiar so quickly.
Mm-hmm, although she was a weirdo, she was still a good kid.
Next was Misa Tachibana. Qiluo replayed what Misa Tachibana had said tonight in her mind.
A former Association Magical Girl, codename White Night. Retired twelve years ago. Her magic circuits were completely ruined, and her legs were paralyzed. Her Contract Spirit had died in battle while covering her retreat.
After retiring, she spent a few years in the hospital. After being discharged, she worked various jobs, with her stint as a convenience store manager being the longest.
She used her wages to support an unregistered Magical Girl mutual aid group, with half of the members’ combat stipends coming from her night shift allowance.
Someone who couldn’t even secure a proper funeral for her comrade had spent twelve years turning herself into a safety net for other Magical Girls. As long as the Wings of Freedom existed, no other Magical Girl would be wiped from the Association’s database after retirement.
Because she had been caught in the rain herself, she wanted to hold an umbrella for other kids?
She’s a good kid too! Wait, Misa Tachibana should be older than me... Hmm...
Whatever! My age in this world plus my age in my previous world is over thirty!
Even though the math is weird, she’s still a good kid!
Qiluo dragged over the school bag by her feet, pulled out her notebook, and flipped to a new page.
On the first line, she wrote: “Question: If there was a Contract Spirit that could accept a wheelchair-bound convenience store manager with ruined magic circuits who retired twelve years ago as its contractor—”
She paused at the word “manager,” then skipped to a new line and continued writing. “Answer: I would become a Magical Girl once more.”
She circled the sentence and drew an asterisk next to it. Beneath it, she sketched a simple diagram of a magic circuit, based on the residual circuit structure she had sensed in Misa Tachibana.
All the branches were dried up, but the basic framework of the main circuit was still there. It hadn’t completely collapsed; it was just that no mana had flowed through it for so many years, like a water pipe left unused for too long.
The pipe was still there, but the faucet was rusted shut.
It needed a water source with enough pressure to force it open again.
Although her contracted creature had died in battle, her contract mark had never completely vanished.
Not even she knew about this, nor did the Association.
But the great Qiluo Tian Gong knew!
At the very end of that battle, at the moment of its shattering, that beast had done something nearly impossible.
It had stripped its own contract mark from her magic circuits and, in the fractions of a second before its consciousness faded, engraved it in reverse deep into her circuits.
Acting as a dormant mana anchor, it knew she might lose her mana.
So, it hid the final proof of its existence in the most secure corner of her body, entering a deep slumber that could neither be detected nor awakened.
There was only one situation in which it might wake up: if a Contract Spirit with a high enough spectrum compatibility sent out a resonance at the same frequency.
Ta-da~ Bingo!
That's right! Star-trail! As a Qiluo who came from another world, dealing with this kind of predicament was a piece of cake!
As long as the manager’s magic circuits are clearly laid out before my eyes, I can reverse-engineer that Contract Spirit’s mana spectrum!
Then, by having Star-trail forge a contract, the manager who retired twelve years ago can become a Magical Girl once more!
People from other worlds are amazing, aren’t they?
Qiluo annotated several sets of parameters next to the magic circuit diagram.
Compatibility, mana threshold, and the minimum amount of mana required for activation. Then, she closed the notebook and slid it under her pillow.
She still needed more data to support this before making a decision. No rush.
Oh my, oh my~ Manager, don’t go falling in love with me now~
I’ll have you standing up in no time! And in the end, I’ll make you fly!
Finally, there was Lightweaver. She stood up, walked to the window, and drew open the curtains. Her own face was reflected in the glass, her hair let down, her expression a bit more relaxed than when she had just gotten off work.
She pulled the curtains shut and went back to lie down on her bedding.
In the future, I’ll use this identity to save the world...
She closed her eyes and briefly switched her consciousness over to Star-trail’s side.
Yuki Kurokawa had just finished her mock exam and was stretching in front of the screen. A tuft of her hair was sticking up from sleep, and her eyes were slightly red from staring at the screen for too long, but she looked satisfied; the exam had gone smoothly. She scooped Star-trail into her arms, buried her face in the fur on its back, and mumbled, “I’m done.”
Star-trail brushed its tail against her earlobe, making her laugh happily.
Rate on N.U.
