Mr. Magical Girl

Chapter 73.

Thunder God (3)

It’s an unfamiliar ceiling.

Brightly shining light bulbs, metal ceiling.

Strangely reminiscent of that underground view.

But seeing the Thunder God living there just fine, with trauma worse than mine,

must mean it’s just my overreaction.

Thinking this, as I turn my head,

little by little,

consciousness returns,

and thoughts
stretch
out.

Today has been a bizarre day.

Except for Baek Sihyeon,

everyone

has been looking at me
as if to annihilate me,

and thanks to that, it’s been a bizarre day that cuts into my mental resilience.

Then I met the Thunder God.

Let’s recall.

The Thunder God’s punch, her radiant laugh,
swish
of her translucent hair.

Her image, again.

Thump.

My heart feels at ease.

Emotion engulfs my body.

From the ashes that once burned, emotions thought to be lost
surge up.

A smile spills over my lips.

How absurd.

I thought I had forgotten those emotions,

only to find them returning so easily.

It’s as if I’ve gone back to the day I first
let go of
the Thunder God.

Ten years.

Cutting down
the 3650 days,
day by day,

in those times.

Meeting Ren Sua, emotions
dimmed.

Watching my daughter leave, emotions
dimmed.

Those feelings find their way back.

With just her smile,

everything.

Honestly, that feels like cheating.

Back then, I called her a kid,

her form trapped in that name, yet now, it won’t
be hidden anymore.

I can’t bring myself to call her a nickname,
such as “Kid,”
it carries those feelings
laid bare.

Thinking that way,

the mistake was mine.

I didn’t think I would still
be so sensitive
to the term ‘kid.’

The way her face became flushed,
and she dashed out of the room
must be because I touched on her past.

Creak. Creak.

I hear the clock ticking.

Hearing that sound, I glance at the clock,

it’s shown me the time. It’s 10 PM.

I only fainted for a moment,

and it’s already this late?

She definitely said she’d come.

I casually glance around the room,

and catch sight of a part that doesn’t sit right with me.

I begin organizing the room.

Opening the storage closet,

I find a small vacuum,
whoosh,
sucking up dust from the corners,

and I tidy up the quilt
that formed on the wheeled mattress.

A faint odor
rises up
from the room’s drain,

I pull out the plug to cleanse it, just in case the Thunder God gets thirsty.

Should I bring some water from the nearby restaurant to the refrigerator?

Is that too excessive?

If the Thunder God doesn’t get angry with me,

then will she really come to my room?

There was only one information
that brought me peace,
shared with the Prohibitions.

My heart
is restless.

The Thunder God might not come.

Though I know there’s a chance,
I don’t stop my hands.

If she doesn’t come,
it would be my fault.

Thinking this while I finish cleaning,

I throw myself onto the bed to rest.

Creak.

Creak.

The clock chimes.

My emotions are
still unsettled.

The only difference from usual is
the fact that she might come.

Creak. Tick. Tick.

Among the tick-tocking,
new sounds blend in,
the sound of flesh hitting metal.

I could just say “come in,” but I deliberately
prop myself up.

Click.

As the door opens, she appears in my sight,
her appearance somewhat awkward
in her clothes that shine sparkly.

Not a single word escapes me.

In silence, we gaze at each other
for a dozen seconds.

I slowly step aside to let her in,
while she shifts her head down,
awkwardly entering the room.

Click.

The door closes. I sit on the bed.

The room remains silent.

Even though she’s entered the room,
I can’t seem to move,
wondering what I should do.

She keeps sparkling
as she generates static,
turning her head with a stiff motion,
pulling a chair by the desk to sit near me.

Her head leans slightly towards me,
her unfocused eyes gaze at me.

Eyes that cannot capture light,
yet those eyes hold
the light of an emotion.

And perhaps,
that emotion is anxiety.

What is she anxious about?

The time gone by?
The changed me?
The changed herself?

I can’t tell which is the answer.
But maybe I can soothe that anxiety.

The Thunder God is always
full of vigor,
not this sparkling,

so should I lighten the mood first?

“Power.”

“Hmm?”

“What happened to that power?”

Attempting to refresh the atmosphere, perhaps
that’s a wrong move.

Should I really ask that?

“Oh, this? What can I say…”

Contrary to my expectations,
my choice seems to be right,
she brightens up and starts to choose her words.

“Honestly, I wasn’t like this from the start.

Having a limited
range of perception
is uncomfortable,

and my body’s gotten frail,
so it’s hard to move around.”

As she unravels her story,
sadness covers her face.

That expression,
though only briefly appears,
I don’t miss it
and it settles deeply in my heart.

“Fortunately, I can eat now,

and all those times I had to siphon electricity,
so it’s manageable,
but I still feel lonely.”

As she mentions it, she seems as if she might vanish.

Like a tiny spark
leaping from the frontline,
quickly fading like a weak existence.

“Still, my heart feels at ease,

since I won’t have to suffer anymore,
and the end of ten years is
a relief.”

The words at the end are likely a lament towards me and her comrades.

Only now do I realize
the reason for her anger.

Ten years of loneliness.

Every day,
waiting,
but if no one arrives, it’s
natural to be angry.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why so suddenly?”

Her bright smile strikes me like
a bolt from heaven,
that intense, radiant smile.

I can’t avoid it.
I accept it,
and open my mouth to show my answer.

“I should’ve been here after ten years.”

“Is that so?
What’s the reason?”

Her playful smile
turns towards me,
her eyes narrowing.

As if she’s teasing,
she overlays her childhood self over me once again.

Since I know
how tough that kind of loneliness can be.

Memories of the past
surge up.

I too experienced that,
day by day,
counting down the date.

She has gone through that,
the time where I threw everything away.

“But even so, I just thought of myself.
That’s what I’m sorry about.”

Pouring out the honest feelings in my words.

A heart that has never been shared, yet now hears no one.

For some reason,
I feel I might show it to her.

The Thunder God finds my
weaker side interesting,
rising from her chair to face me.

She draws close and sits beside me,
her hands grasping my face,
turning towards herself.

She also tilts her head
in my direction,
as we gaze into each other’s eyes,
the distance closes.

Thud.

The Thunder God suddenly
butts heads with me.

“60 points. Wow, Hiram did well.”

“60 points? There’s still 40 points left?”

Wait, what’s more?

Because she doesn’t know why,
it’s why Hiram’s height came to be a story.

Shaking off the bashfulness from her now reddened face, she begins teasing again.

If the one headbutting gets more hurt, what does she plan to do?

This kind of teasing feels a lot like someone bragging about their growing height.

“Ah, come on! Just don’t make things difficult. You just want to tease me!”

It’s apparent.

The Thunder God has set up so many
traps and puns.

Thud.

In a moment, a shock runs through me.

The quilt flies up,
turning into a bolt of yellow lightning,
the thunder god cast her gaze downwards.

Before I realize what’s happening, I see myself on the bed,
being overwhelmed by the Thunder God.

While I can’t comprehend the event for a moment, it soon becomes clear.

She has launched me onto the bed with momentum
that far exceeds normal speed.

“I’m serious!”

“Serious? You’re jumping?”

Those words rise up to my throat,
but I can’t speak against the Thunder God’s momentum.

This day, time and again,
I feel the pressure that tells me
I could never outdo her.

Even if I try using my power,
my instinct tells me
I would always regret it.

Thoughts spin quickly.

If the situation continues like this,
something irreversible might happen.

“I didn’t get an answer to my question, Thunder God.”

My little brain
forms its own response:
this is the best move to break the tension.

“A question? What question?”

Did she not expect this sort of reaction?
The tension surrounding her begins dissipating.

“That was regarding your power weakening, right? It’s not a matter of being stronger.”

“Indeed.”

The hand that was gripping my shoulder from the Thunder God
releases.

As she grants restraint, she lays down next to me,
her mouth opens to speak.

“It’s been long since you could sleep soundly, hasn’t it?”

“Hmm… I guess during the war we’d often sleep together, so maybe about 14 years?”

As children, when space was limited, we always slept together.

“But…
“Oh, don’t sleep yet. Answer the question.”

Why does the Thunder God keep shifting the direction of her inquiries?

It’s not just whimsy;
there seems to be a strange goal embedded.

Perhaps that goal is a terrifying trap I cannot fathom.

“I heard from your students that you’d be staying for a while.
Then tonight, could we sleep together and take it slow?”

She says that while lifting the corners of her mouth,
molding a wicked smile.

Is she a snake or something?
No way it feels like she’s probing for a trap.

“That’s not good. If there’s still uncomfortable feelings of the past between us,
it’ll continue bothering us.

So let’s put everything on the table and enjoy our remaining time together.”

Trying to seize the right moment to ask feels
like a tiresome endeavor for me,
so instead of playing diplomatic games,
I’d rather engage in direct banter.

“You’re quite something for a War God.
That’s a pretty decent argument.
I’ll let that slide.”

After saying that,
the Thunder God stretches out her arms,
pulling me close,
throwing her entire body onto mine.

Her frame is thin, yet her soft body against my back feels quite nice.

“What are you doing?”

“Why? Don’t like it?”

Honestly, it’s not something I’d dislike:
sharing warmth isn’t half bad at all.

If that warmth is from an old comrade, even better.

Surely the Danger Rifle would have embraced me like this, so what’s the difference?
Her embrace is nothing but the sounds of pain and tragedy.

But putting that aside,
it’s clear something else had happened recently.

“Yogsimon and people like him embraced me at times. Why does everyone pull me in?”

“Yogsimon?”

Her voice, laced with intent,
drips directly beside my ear.

Feeling the Thunder God wrapping me in warmth even emits a sense of purity.

“Yogsimon also pulled me in during bed.

Thunk.

My insides twist.

Suddenly, the grip on my waist tightens.

“Did I, like, travel together with monsters for way too long?
Like Yogsimon?

“Monsters? What kind of… Wait,
yogsimon issues—was that really a thing?”

An ominous sound
swells in the atmosphere.

To be specific, it’s a sound that feels like bones cracking.

“Once?”

“Healing! It was all for healing! I nearly died from burns and fractures, okay?”

That’s just an excuse.
When the wounds mostly healed, it must’ve been to heal my heart.

“Really?”

“Absolutely! My hammer—really!”

Sorry, hammer!

“Of course, you can ask Yogsimon for confirmation!”

“Go ahead! Do what you want!”

If it’s Yogsimon, I believe he’ll have a fitting excuse.

Why I need to batch together excuses,
even I can’t grasp why,
but they just spring from a deep place inside me.

“Did that excuse work?
The pressure on my waist eases,
and I can calm down again.”

Comparing this with earlier,
the Thunder God’s grip on me feels tighter,
but it’s better than fainting while making the night with her.

So while I collect my breath,
“Monsters? Everyone here knows they’re horrible. Immediately after the volunteer corps moved in, it was evident.”

Monsters? How could that be known?

Such confusion of mine
brings about a question,
but the Thunder God continues explaining herself instead of waiting for my query.

“And the power is…
This is a long one, but we jumped over into the wall together, right?”

Jumping over a wall? What’s this all about?

“There was a breath of fresh air beyond the wall, and suddenly, I felt my body ease.

According to the monsters, it was like becoming a being from another world,
thus I could siphon that power. So now I have been slowly
replenishing my strength again.
And that’s the end of my story.”

End? Did you dump that in a single breath?

This is critical information for the association.

“The story’s finished, so
it’s my turn to ask. For eleven years,
how did you manage?”

Wait, hold on! I also have questions to ask.

However that night, while I was held captive by her,
there was no time for my inquiries to flow as they should.

*

Flump. Thud.

From her body, a shadow detaches.

Hidden in a concealed space, Ren Sua gazes
at her abuser,
watching her father interact with a woman.

“Get lost.”

[Baek-]

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