Deep in the ocean lay a massive circular fortress.
The abyss was eternally silent and lonely, broken only by the occasional bioluminescent flicker and the long, mournful cry of a whale.
Startled fish scattered in panic, then quickly regrouped.
Compared to the fortress’s colossal scale, the explosion on its hull seemed tiny—a churning mass of bubbles and twisted metal debris shot upward, vanishing into the endless blue.
“This is the Changxi Ocean Information Center. We…” The white-coated elder glanced at the monitor and declared firmly, “We have a traitor!”
On screen, a Magical Girl in ceremonial attire sprinted down a sterile white corridor, crimson footprints blooming with every step. She had just slaughtered all twenty-one staff in one room.
The moment the alarm blared, the old man slammed every isolation hatch—eleven-centimeter-thick alloy doors meant to be foolproof.
Yet the Magical Girl moved through them like a hot knife through cheese. A few brutal kicks warped the metal beyond recognition.
“Traitor… traitor…”
Cold sweat traced his temples. He never imagined a Magical Girl lurked inside this base.
This one called herself Kihara Reina—almost certainly an alias. She’d joined the deep-sea facility eight years ago.
Through sharp skill and charm, she rose to the highest researcher rank.
How could she hide her identity? A Magical Girl… waiting all this time for what?
Shock and fury twisted inside him.
Shock: this top-secret hub held data that could ignite global chaos.
Fury: the vetting team deserved execution.
Watching her breach speed, he couldn’t wait. Like an ant on a hot griddle, he grabbed another terminal.
No more hiding.
“Security team! Authorized to use experimental rounds! Target: Level 2, Sector C! She stole critical data—shoot on sight, shoot on sight!”
He stared tensely at the feed. She smashed visible cameras, yet hidden lenses still tracked her.
Those “experimental rounds”? Multinational-made, wildly expensive. Magic-infused bullets bypassing Magical Girl shields.
Designed for Witches—but oddly more effective against Magical Girls. Nations quietly stockpiled them at key sites.
On monitor: muzzle flashes. Half the security team collapsed. The other half advanced *with* her, shields raised ahead of her path.
Sporadic resistance meant nothing.
The old man slumped into his chair.
Half the team were traitors.
No… If she took *that* file, all of Japan was doomed.
He couldn’t gamble. He pulled up the self-destruct terminal. *She will not escape.*
No cinematic red button begging to be pressed.
Six passwords. Final code triggers the buried nuke—incinerating everything, including her.
His fingers clacked frantically. No time for alerts. Others still chatted about dinner, unaware of the tremors.
Breath hitched entering the sixth password.
The landline rang. He snatched it.
“Reinforcements arrived. High command sent two Grade-A Magical Girls into the fortress.”
“Good! Good!” he rasped, scanning monitors.
Silent footage showed traitors fall like wheat before a scythe.
The two Grade-As confronted her—collapsed after one exchange.
A bitter laugh escaped him. He slammed the final key.
Five seconds. Ten. No blast. Only “CONNECTION LOST” on screen.
“What?!”
He tried again. Confirmed: she’d severed the self-destruct protocol long ago.
*She planned even this?!*
He watched helplessly as she breached the last barrier and vanished into the deep.
—
December chilled Hakutsuru. Students bundled in thicker layers; Yukieda wore a red scarf and thermal tights, looking like a girl awaiting a confession.
She gazed at drifting snowflakes, unaware eyes followed her—hair whiter than snow, a sprite dancing in the wind.
High school gossip never changed: admin scandals, or girls.
Whispers trailed Yukieda. *Why no boys swarm her?*
Not just her. Mai, Shizuku, Mari shared the silence.
Yukieda’s gentle rejections: “You’re kind. Let’s stay friends.”
Shizuku: “No romance before university.”
Mari? The “100% Pigeon King”—infamous for ghosting. (Also campus proof that “chubby” hides potential.)
If Yukieda was winter sunshine—pure, warm—Mai was absolute ice.
“Yukieda’s a goddess,” classmates sighed. “Even rejection feels kind. Petite, yet… motherly.”
Mai drew attention too. But any boy meeting her gaze froze.
A look of bone-deep contempt—as if you were rotten stone, wrongly surfaced from a ditch.
No one escaped that stare unshaken.
Yukieda had seen it countless times.
*Well… Mai’s a boy. Just no one knows.*
Strangely, Mai’s popularity soared. Yukieda never understood why.
Earned the title: “Absolutely Unconfessable.”
At lunch, while Mari chattered anime with Shizuku, Mai turned his head and gently pulled Yukieda toward the stairwell near the roof.
(Not the roof—the wind would freeze your soul.)
“News about Master Dai,” Mai said.
Yukieda, drowsy from warmth, instantly perked up.
“Traditionally, she returns in January. This year… half a month early.”
“So?” Yukieda didn’t care about schedules. She needed to see Master Dai—lift the curse, ask about the black ribbon.
“Her route’s unchanged. Arrives in Yasaka City in days. We go then.”
“Then let’s go the moment she lands!”
But it wasn’t that simple. Master Dai’s location was classified. Mai’s clearance couldn’t access it.
Rushing there would trigger investigations. They needed a *plausible* reason.
A “coincidence.”
Mai added quietly, “He has a friend.”
Yukieda didn’t press. Mai promised to introduce him later.
*A reason?*
Yukieda racked her brain. *“Oh! After hours of travel, we *just happen* to spot Master Dai grabbing late-night snacks—totally not planned!”*
“Must we lose this chance?”
As Hakutsuru’s guardian, she had zero reason to leave… unless Yasaka exploded.
*(Joke. She hoped Yasaka stayed safe—Kazama’s territory. Every incident meant casualties.)*
“Can’t I sneak over? I’m fast,” Yukieda pleaded.
Mai hesitated. “You’re under constant watch. Even if I cover for you…”
Yukieda heard the truth beneath the words: *surveillance*.
“I see…”
Her golden eyes dimmed. Silver hair drooped over her shoulders.
Seeing his partner like a dejected little sister, Mai instinctively wanted to ruffle her hair.
He choked back the urge, patted her shoulder, and they returned to class.
“Ugh! Chairman says no makeup—not even *light*!” a girl mimicked. “‘Button your uniforms properly!’” Laughter rippled.
Yukieda watched, uninterested.
Winter break neared. Master Dai’s arrival drew closer.
Then Kenji called.
“Mai’s been hounding me,” he said bluntly. “Says you have a valid reason to meet *her*. Doubt you’ll convince her… but fine. I’ll arrange it.”
That afternoon, after first period, Mr. Kagejima strode to the podium amid sleepy stares. He knew exactly what came next.
“You rascals!” he announced. “The chairman just approved a winter training camp for you all!”
