Chapter 60: A twist of fate.

Kisaragi Nemuri seemed to want a one-on-one meeting, but Yusia insisted on joining.
I couldn’t refuse a request from my biggest supporter.
I’d have agreed anyway, but that’s how the three of us ended up at the mall.

“You call Sia ‘Sia,’ Lily. In Korea, do you use casual speech with seniors even when untransformed?”

I don’t know about other countries, but in Korea and Japan, with their honorific cultures, magical girls speak casually when transformed.
Not so when untransformed.
Nemuri, thinking I’m younger, must find it odd that I speak casually with Yusia.

“I gave her permission. We’re close like friends,” Yusia explains.
“But isn’t there a big age gap?”
“Age doesn’t matter between friends.”

Nemuri glances between us.
Becoming Scarlet Lily was almost an accident, and I’ve come too far to turn back.
But I didn’t want to play the part of a teenage girl.
Identity, pride—it’s all tangled up, leading to this ambiguous dynamic.
Yeah, it’s my fault.

“You two seem close,” Nemuri says, her tone suggestive.

Yusia was covering for me to avoid awkwardness, but it seems to have deepened the misunderstanding.

“I’m probably the closest to her among magical girls,” Yusia adds.
“…!”

Why’s she saying stuff like that?

“Let’s not stand around—walk and talk,” I say, stepping forward to break the awkward vibe.

“How’s this? It’d look great on you, Lily,” Nemuri says, holding up a bright-toned blouse.
It’s almost too cute for me.

“The color’s fine, but isn’t the ribbon a bit much?”
“That’s the point. With your pink hair, you need a bold accent to tie it together.”
“It’s a bit flashy for me.”
“Lily’s right. Subtle styles suit her better,” Yusia interjects, showing me a refined shirt.

“How about this? It’s not too loud but still captures Lily’s vibe.”
“You can’t just decide what ‘Lily’s vibe’ is. Teens should try some bold clothes,” Nemuri counters.
“Lily’s mature, so she’s an exception.”
“Am I an exception?”

A subtle rivalry sparks.
I don’t know who’s right, but I wish they’d consider my position, stuck in the middle.

“I’ll try both,” I say, grabbing the clothes and heading to the fitting room.

When I step out in Nemuri’s pick, she gasps.
“It’s perfect! Totally you, Lily!”

I check the mirror—it does look good, though a bit too sparkly for my taste.

“Not bad,” Yusia says, her serious tone typical of her level-headed judgment.

I return to the fitting room and try Yusia’s choice: a neat shirt and skirt, subdued colors but a silhouette that subtly flatters.

“Amazing,” Yusia says, short and firm, clearly pleased.

She knows my real age, so she nails my preferences without me spelling them out.
But isn’t she staring a bit too intensely?

“It’s got a mature charm,” Nemuri says, not forcing a critique.

She hands me another outfit.
“How about this? Oh, this one’s good too. Try them on.”

I feel like a doll in a dress-up game.
I planned to buy enough clothes to last anyway, so fine—I’ll try them all.

“You bought everything? That’s cheating,” Nemuri says, pouting.

She picked what she thought was the perfect outfit for Scarlet Lily—undeniably captivating.
But by buying every piece I tried, I made it impossible to know which I liked best.

“My closet’s got space, and both your picks were great,” I say.
“You’re too kind, Lily,” Nemuri replies.
“How’s that kind?”
“You bought everything so neither me nor Sia would feel bad.”

While picking clothes, it somehow turned into a competition between Nemuri and Yusia.
Nemuri loves a challenge.
She’s confident in her fashion sense, but I praised both their choices without picking a favorite.

“I just buy in bulk when I shop.”
“You don’t have to spare our feelings.”
“No, really.”

My eyes catch the shopping bags in my hands.

“You got a lot. Not heavy?” Nemuri asks.
“I’m transformed, so it’s fine.”
“Oh, right.”

She sometimes forgets, since I drop perception-blocking magic, but I can’t untransform.
When I first told her, she couldn’t believe it.
Maintaining transformation for ten hours is exhausting, yet I live as a magical girl 365 days a year?
She thought it was impossible, but my unique condition makes it so.
In exchange for losing my original form, I gained immense mana.

When Nemuri heard this, she didn’t feel jealousy, despite her drive to improve.
Instead, she felt sympathy—and a touch of respect.
Losing my old life yet fulfilling my duties as a magical girl without resentment, using my power for good, impressed her.
Yusia’s right—I am mentally mature.

As we walk, a store catches Nemuri’s eye.
“Summer’s coming. Wanna grab a swimsuit?”

She stops in front of a shop with a bikini-clad mannequin.
Planning to stay in Korea long-term, she wants swimsuits for both herself and me.

“Not sure I’ll hit the beach,” I say.
“No plans to go?”
“Unless something comes up, I was gonna chill at home.”

Not wanting to have fun at her age?
Even Nemuri, who values diligence, is stunned by my lack of desire.

“You should still get one,” she insists, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the store.

I can’t let her waste her vibrant youth.
Nemuri feels a senior’s duty to lead.

*

I ended up buying swimsuits too.
I’m not short on cash, and I’m not big on water activities, but I agreed one’s good to have.
Like with the clothes, I tried on various options and bought two.

“You like understated stuff, huh?” Nemuri says at a dessert café, bringing up the swimsuits.

“I’m not into flashy things.”
“Sia was right.”
“She’s picked clothes for me before, so she knows me well.”

There were several swimsuit options.
I chose a bikini and a one-piece.
I leaned toward the one-piece, but Nemuri pushed the bikini, so I got both.
Having a male soul, I shy away from skin-baring bikinis.
But it’s not like I’ve never worn one.
Stella and Spica, with their mischievous streaks, used to dress me in girly stuff, including bikinis.
Back then, I was mortified, my face burning.
Their teasing grins are still vivid.
Now, those memories are bittersweet.

Nemuri’s devouring a Korean-style dessert—milky shaved ice with roasted grain powder.
It’s a foolproof combo.

“So why’d you suddenly want to meet?” I ask.

I thought she’d demand answers about the rumors with Frozen Princess.
But today, she just picked clothes and hasn’t mentioned it.

“I hang out with Sia or Haeun a lot, but not you,” she says.
“What about that ‘shock’ from the stream?”
“Oh, that? I saw a drawing someone made about you two.”
“What kind?”
“It’s kinda crude to describe.”

Crude? What did you see, Nemuri…?
I want to press, but it’s probably better left alone.

“You don’t have to say it, but it’s just fans joking.”
“Yeah, I know. No big deal, don’t worry.”

I relax.
Nemuri’s smart—she wouldn’t take it seriously.

“But one thing bugs me.”
“What?”
“Are you really a 5.5-gen magical girl?”

The question hits like a sneak attack.

“I don’t get what you’re implying.”

I didn’t slip up.
Did my old-fashioned taste tip her off?

“Sia treats you like a peer, and Haeun and Yena don’t act like you’re a junior. Not being able to untransform makes your real age hard to guess. I wondered if you’re older than third-gen. Contracting at an odd time between fifth and sixth gens doesn’t add up either. Just my speculation, though.”

Nemuri lays out her reasoning logically.
She’s got me completely figured out.
Yusia, beside me, nods subtly.

“You said you wanted to meet a first-gen magical girl, right?” I ask.
“I mentioned wanting to meet Spica in an interview.”
“Not Stella or Scarlet?”
“They’re dead. If I had to pick, I’m a Scarlet fan. Taking down monsters quietly and vanishing is cool.”

What kind of cosmic joke is this?
Running into another fan of mine.
The thought of how chaotic future streams might get already makes my head spin.

“Listen closely. The Scarlet who went missing ten years ago is actually—”