Ch.90Chapter 15. Difference in Direction (5)

Jihye had prepared herself to face criticism when sending Jieun away.

However, the people who had brought Jihye were surprisingly quiet about it.

Perhaps they had known from the beginning that Jihye couldn’t keep Jieun there.

If that was the case, it was a bit infuriating.

“You don’t need to drive me back.”

Jihye said this to the person who offered her a ride, someone who appeared to work for the government.

She didn’t think they would try anything during that short journey.

Like kidnapping her to use as a hostage, or using her as leverage to threaten Jieun…

Actually, by arranging this meeting between her and Jieun today, they were already essentially threatening Jieun.

It was as good as saying something might happen to Jihye.

In such a situation, if Jieun came back because of Jihye, she would surely be plagued by guilt whenever she saw Jihye.

“…”

No, she was already feeling guilty.

Even in this situation, Jihye couldn’t do anything for the girl who was like a sister to her after spending so much time together.

All she could do was hand over items hastily bought from a convenience store.

So, she shouldn’t hold Jieun back, right?

After walking a bit from the building, she reached a main road. She wasn’t sure where she was, but it couldn’t be outside Seoul. They hadn’t driven that far.

She found her way back to the orphanage using her phone.

When she arrived, a teacher was waiting with a worried expression.

After reassuring her that nothing was wrong, Jihye returned to her room.

She had properly tidied up the messy room. Unfortunately, she couldn’t repair the broken machines or replace Jieun’s CDs. She wanted to fix them or buy new ones with her allowance, but sadly, Jihye didn’t have that kind of money.

She had just arranged the items that were still intact as neatly as possible.

After staring at her desk for a while, Jihye pulled out a chair and slowly sat down.

How did things end up like this?

Jieun probably just wanted to live a normal life. Maybe she needed quite a bit of money to attend that school and hang out with friends.

Thinking about it now, there was so much Jihye didn’t know about Jieun, despite living together for so long.

Once, they had a conversation like this.

“Are we sisters?”

Lying on the floor as usual, Jihye had asked this question probably not long after entering middle school.

It was around the time she started making friends and hearing them complain about or subtly brag about their families.

She had heard such stories often in elementary school too, but perhaps because they were entering puberty, these conversations increased, and Jihye, experiencing similar emotions, couldn’t help but think about it.

“Huh? I guess so?”

Though Jihye had asked after serious contemplation, Jieun answered quite simply.

Jihye sat up and stared at Jieun.

Jieun, sitting at her desk doing homework, didn’t see Jihye get up.

“Do you really think so?”

“We’ve been living in the same room for years now, so it wouldn’t be strange to call us sisters. Plus, our names are similar.”

Again, her voice didn’t carry any special emotion.

As if it were obvious, as if thinking that way wasn’t strange at all.

“We don’t call each other unni or dongsaeng, but would anyone say we’re wrong to call ourselves sisters?”

“…”

Thinking about it carefully, it was certainly true.

There was no one Jihye had gotten to know better than Jieun in her life so far. She might not have known everything about her, but at least Jihye was the only one who knew how Jieun behaved in this home.

Though it was an orphanage, they called it “home” too.

So in a way, the two could be considered family.

What Jihye had been pondering, Jieun had accepted as natural.

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason Jihye came to cherish Jieun.

Even before that conversation, they had already formed the deepest relationship in each other’s relatively short lives.

That’s why she didn’t want to lose her.

If Jihye lost Jieun, she would lose the witness to her childhood.

The one and only person who naturally considered Jihye family would disappear.

Jihye was terrified of that.

But she couldn’t force what she wanted on “family.” That’s how she was raised.

She didn’t know how people with real blood families lived. There were people who scammed their families, and those who committed domestic violence.

That wasn’t the kind of family Jihye wanted.

She wanted someone who cared for each other. Someone whose mere presence was reassuring.

Jihye had felt that way living with Jieun all this time. Though Jieun didn’t make a big show of it, her words and actions truly made Jihye feel like she considered her a sister.

Probably, if the situation were reversed, Jieun would have naturally helped Jihye.

So, Jihye wanted to be that kind of person too.

Someone who could say “I’m your family” without any change in expression, no matter the situation.

If she forced someone to do something just because she wanted it, could that be called family?

Jihye touched the desk, then got up again.

She laid out her bedding on the floor and lay down.

Normally, Jieun would have been beside her.

On nights when Jieun didn’t come home late, the two would talk about various things before finally falling asleep quite late.

“…”

Jihye couldn’t fall asleep for a long time, but eventually managed to.

It seemed like it would take a very long time to get used to sleeping alone.

If she could get used to it at all.

*

The next day.

Jihye went to school acting as if nothing was different.

But the atmosphere around her was unlike usual.

Actually, since Jieun’s identity was revealed on TV, the atmosphere had never been normal, but today felt different again.

Until very recently, when children brought up Jieun in front of Jihye, their attitude wasn’t much different from viewing a “terrifying criminal.”

Jihye had never told her schoolmates that she lived with Jieun.

But she had mentioned that she lived in an orphanage. Jihye had never felt particularly ashamed of that fact.

And perhaps because she had shared this, though she couldn’t tell exactly how it spread, the children knew that Jihye lived in the same orphanage as Jieun.

Of course, it seemed none of them knew that Jihye and Jieun were close.

Most children just thought Jihye and that girl were “from the same orphanage.”

Perhaps that’s why, even when Jieun first appeared on the news, those “friends” could consume Jieun as gossip.

Jihye thought it was unavoidable. After all, she too discussed celebrities from the news with her friends.

It was about magical girls, after all. It was impossible not to be interested.

Until a few years ago, these were beings only seen in comics, but now they existed in the real world. It would be stranger not to be interested.

Moreover, magical girls weren’t just like soldiers. They wore flashy outfits straight out of comics and fought enemies with magic—fantasy brought to life.

Not that she liked this fact.

…Well, it was Jieun after all. Others might call Jihye hypocritical, but some things couldn’t be helped.

It’s never pleasant to hear someone badmouth your family.

“Did you see the news yesterday?”

The student sitting next to Jihye asked.

“The sixth magical girl.”

“…Yeah.”

She had seen the news.

Since then, Jihye had been looking up all articles related to Jieun. It hadn’t been pleasant, but she wanted to know what was happening.

“That person, it’s that Jeong Jieun, right? Have people been misunderstanding all this time?”

The student saying this was someone who until recently thought Jieun was a terrorist.

Probably thinking Jihye and Jieun were just from the same orphanage, they had confidently said things like “that must have been scary.”

All because of the news.

Students who claimed to be in the same class as Jieun gave interviews saying things like “I knew it” or “I suspected it might be possible.”

They must have been students who didn’t get along with Jieun.

It wasn’t hard to imagine. Jieun often talked about her friend Hayun, and those stories included complaints about many students trying to use Hayun.

Helping Hayun meant she couldn’t get along with such students.

“Yes, people misunderstood.”

Jihye said.

At least this time, she could speak with certainty.

“Jieun would never do such things.”

“Oh, oh, really…?”

The student seemed a bit taken aback by Jihye’s words.

Jihye knew how she must appear right now.

She probably looked very hypocritical. Until now, she hadn’t been able to deny what the other students said about Jieun.

“Yes. She’s not the kind of person who would do such things.”

But that didn’t matter.

From the beginning until now, Jihye had believed in Jieun.

No matter what others said, that belief wouldn’t change.

Besides the student who spoke to Jihye, many others were talking about the “White Magical Girl.”

Until now, Jieun didn’t have a name as a magical girl. She was just called the “Black Magical Girl” or “terror suspect.”

By now, had she chosen a new name?

As a magical girl, she would probably have such a name.

The other magical girls all had names derived from flowers, so for Jieun, with her white and pretty outfit, what name would suit her?

In Jihye’s opinion—

*

“How about Lily?”

While I was out getting some fresh air in the morning, Hayun said something very strange.

“Lily?”

Not fully understanding her intention, I asked, and Hayun shrugged her shoulders and said:

“You’re a magical girl too. I thought you should have a name as a magical girl.”

“…”

I gave Hayun a very lukewarm look.

“So, you want me to use that name?”

“Yeah… don’t you like it?”

“Before whether I like it or not, I don’t understand why I need such a name.”

Actually, I don’t understand why magical girls need separate names at all.

In other comics, there’s at least a setting where they can’t reveal their real names, but that’s not the case here.

Everyone’s real names are already public knowledge.

In this world, a magical girl’s name serves little more purpose than a celebrity’s stage name.

Even among celebrities, some use stage names and some don’t, so can’t I just use my own name?

“Because… you’re a magical girl?”

“That’s what I’m asking—what does being a magical girl have to do with having such a name? And why am I a lily?”

“When you think of white flowers, the first one that comes to mind is a lily.”

Well, that’s true, but still.

“Besides, having a name as a magical girl will probably be more advantageous.”

Seeing my incredulous expression, Hayun seemed to think she needed another persuasion method and brought up this point as if she had it prepared.

“Advantageous?”

“If we’re going to keep fighting, public perception is important, right?”

“That’s… true.”

It’s unavoidable.

It was much easier to fight when the police didn’t interfere from the side.

And this time, they even helped.

We can’t defeat enemies with just the police’s help. But it increases my chances of victory.

Even beyond the military aspect, as long as this country isn’t a dictatorship, politicians have to be mindful of public opinion. The country’s leadership is all elected, after all.

Even if they can’t officially cooperate with me, if there’s a chance their approval ratings might waver if they arrest me or disadvantage me, they’ll act much more cautiously toward me.

“So, making people think you’re one of us is important.”

“…”

I decided to keep quiet and listen for now.

“We all use flower names as nicknames. Each matching our color.”

“Did you choose those names yourselves?”

“Well, no.”

Hayun blushed as she answered my question.

Come on, even you’re embarrassed by it.

Why should I be embarrassed now?

“Isn’t fighting together enough?”

When I asked, Hayun fell silent.

“We’re risking our lives fighting together, isn’t that enough? Even on the radio, they seem to think I’m on your side.”

“That’s true, but…”

Hayun slightly lowered her head.

Seeing her gather her hands behind her back and poke the ground with her toes, it seemed she just really wanted to give me the name “Lily,” logic aside.

I sighed deeply and scratched my head.

Is that… important?

Maybe Hayun thinks this way because she’s been a magical girl for over two years.

You know, like in the military, there are things you “just do that way even if you don’t know why.”

If I think of it like that, well.

“…Fine.”

“Huh?”

“If you really want to call me that, go ahead. It’s meaningless to refuse if everyone’s going to call me that anyway.”

Hayun’s face brightened at my words.

“Yes!”

Is it really that exciting?

Anyway, I don’t like the name or the white dress-like outfit.

…Even though that white outfit came from my subconscious, I still don’t like it.

Seriously, who has a member with both black and white?

*

“Since things have turned out this way, we should become a fourth faction.”

While we were all gathered discussing what to do next, Cherry came up with this idea.

“A fourth faction?”

As I frowned and asked, Cherry nodded with a serious expression.

“Yes. A fourth faction that needs neither the Federation, the government, nor the corporation.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you had such power ambitions.”

“Does this look like it’s about power to you?”

Well, it probably isn’t about power.

If I had to choose the two weakest people here, it would undoubtedly be Cherry and James.

I was fully prepared to turn James into mouse meat if he crossed the line too much, and James seemed to know this as he hadn’t completely crossed the line yet.

Moreover, since my power somehow changed the circuit itself, he seemed to have a lot to think about and had almost stopped making strange challenges to what I said.

Though he still seems to fight constantly with Cherry.

“Anyway, continue.”

Since the two would fight for hours if left alone, I asked her to continue.

“…Ahem. So, let’s become a fourth faction that no one can easily touch.”

“What exactly is good about becoming a fourth faction?”

“It’s easier to form temporary alliances when fighting other factions.”

“Ah.”

I see. That’s what she meant.

Rather than joining one side, let’s become a completely separate faction that can cooperate or oppose as needed.

“But we’re too weak for that.”

James, who had been listening with his arms crossed, said.

“A faction is only called a faction when it can offer meaningful resistance, isn’t it?”

“That’s why I’ve been thinking.”

Cherry responded to James.

“The former chairman is still alive, right? He’s not dead?”

“…”

James fell silent at Cherry’s words.

“Noir Corporation isn’t a public company, right? So the current chairman isn’t really a ‘chairman.’ He’s just someone who forcibly took what belonged to someone else. The Federation judges it that way too. That’s why they cooperated. They thought they might be able to remove that chairman and take over the company.”

“Their thinking must have changed by now?”

“Yes.”

Cherry nodded at Hayun’s words.

“Right. Just before I came here, there was talk about needing to cut ties quickly. Of course, since the Federation is such a huge organization with people of different stances, we can’t be certain, but they seem to think that while there might be immediate benefits, it’s too dangerous in the long term.”

“So, you’re saying we should find the former chairman?”

“If not the former chairman, then the next in line. It’s a private company, right? Ultimately, the structure is such that the person at the top takes almost everything. If so, we can somewhat normalize the situation by bringing in someone who can legitimately hold the top position in the company.”

At least Cherry doesn’t seem to be solely on the Federation’s side.

“…”

But James, who belongs to the former chairman’s loyalist faction, wore a very disgruntled expression.

Is he unhappy with the idea of ‘using’ his boss?

Certainly, Cherry seems to want to secure the former chairman or the next in line to ‘use’ them. She’s suggesting having the ‘means’ to potentially normalize the company as a bargaining chip, rather than immediately normalizing the company.

Of course, normalization would take a very long time. The power struggles related to the circuit seem much more entangled than they appear on the surface.

Oil that can speak and move.

No, considering the risk, perhaps plutonium or uranium would be a better comparison.

That’s probably where humans stand in the universe right now.

“You want to find them too, right? Even if it’s disadvantageous to the company right now, normalization is necessary for future operations.”

“…”

At Cherry’s words, James finally sighed deeply and nodded.

So he moves emotionally sometimes too.

Well, if he weren’t emotional, he wouldn’t have teased me either.

“And let’s make this place more like a ‘headquarters.’ We have one more Hope Circuit now. If I cooperate, we can utilize the energy much better.”

Cherry said, clapping her hands.

Indeed, if we’re going to be a separate faction, we should look the part.

…But do we have the parts for that?