A dim room, with only a faint glow lighting up two faces.
The battered screen gave off a blue-white light, illuminating the pair of silhouettes squeezed together on the couch.
Two girls, one big and one small, worked their controllers with total focus, fingers dancing across the buttons while the pixel figures on screen beat each other senseless.
“Aw.”
After barely a moment, Felutina set down her controller and stretched, lazy as a cat.
“Lost again.
Silver Wolf, you’re really good at games.”
“Don’t give me that.
You weren’t even playing seriously!”
Silver Wolf shot her a sideways glance, her tone edged with complaint — but the corner of her mouth kept tugging upward no matter what she did.
She tried to press the smile flat.
It had a will of its own, and refused to stay hidden.
She didn’t like the feeling.
Silver Wolf had always believed she didn’t need friends.
She wasn’t lonely — that was what she told herself, over and over.
Even alone.
Even with nothing but a beat-up old Famicom and a ball game made of two lines and a single dot, she could clear it again and again without ever getting bored, until her eyes stung.
But now, with someone actually sitting beside her, shoulder against shoulder, chatting while playing the games she loved, something strange welled up in her chest.
Warm.
Itchy.
Like something sprouting.
…I’m only using Felutina.
That’s all.
Silver Wolf reminded herself of it.
She just needed a tool.
Right.
A tool.
“Okay, that’s about enough.
Time to eat.”
Felutina put the controller down and stretched again, unhurried.
“…I’m not hungry yet.
One more round.”
Silver Wolf reached out and caught the hem of Felutina’s skirt.
The motion was light, but her fingers clenched tight.
Felutina blinked, looked down at the small hand gripping her skirt, then back up at Silver Wolf’s face.
Silver Wolf’s expression hadn’t changed at all.
Her silver eyes stayed fixed on the screen, as if nothing had happened.
“Mm.
All right.”
Felutina sat back down.
She blinked, starlight flickering in her eyes, then reached over and ruffled Silver Wolf’s hair as naturally as breathing.
The touch was gentle, the way you’d pet a slightly prickly kitten.
“This is really the last round, okay?”
“You’re annoying.”
Silver Wolf’s lips pursed as she flopped back against the couch with its peeling upholstery.
The springs inside had given out ages ago, so sitting down meant sinking into a dip — but she’d long since gotten used to that.
Did I pick up a mother instead of a partner?
It’s been a few days and she’s already bossing me around.
What she’ll want a few days from now, I don’t even want to imagine.
Speaking of which.
Silver Wolf glanced at Felutina.
After all the effort it had taken to haul her back to this little den, barely half a day had passed before Felutina got up like nothing had ever been wrong with her.
That recovery rate was absurd.
But when she’d asked about it, all she got was Felutina’s canned answer:
“You can’t compare one person’s constitution to another’s.
I train in sports.
You don’t train, so you wouldn’t get it.”
Fine.
Sure.
Whatever.
OK.
Silver Wolf had definitely never trained in sports, so she let it slide.
On screen, the pixel fighters started a fresh match.
Silver Wolf’s fingers flew across the controller, her inputs smooth as running water.
She’d been playing games for too many years.
Against an opponent like Felutina, she could win with her eyes shut.
“Anyway, you said you wanted a favor from me.
What is it, exactly?”
Felutina turned slightly, tilting her head to look at her, white hair falling loose and catching a soft sheen in the glow of the screen.
A pleasant, clean fragrance drifted off her — the smell of Silver Wolf’s nearly empty bottle of cheap body wash.
Silver Wolf paused.
She’d finally remembered what she’d wanted in the first place.
She had crossed the Great Wilds to reach Scrap Mountain, looking for work, only to hit a wall everywhere she went because she operated alone.
In Punklorde, people always worked in crews.
Loners rarely lasted.
With no other option, Silver Wolf had started cooking up a set of fictional teammates to fool the middlemen with.
Somewhere in the middle of racking her brain for names for those imaginary partners, she saw a meteor streak across the sky.
Like in every story ever written, one thought flashed through her head:
“It’d be nice to have a really convenient partner.”
And then she watched the meteor bank sideways and crash straight into the trash heap near her.
Look at that.
Just like the opening of a romance.
Unfortunately, Punklorde doesn’t believe in tears, and Silver Wolf didn’t believe an epic of love or friendship was going to make an emergency landing at her feet either.
“Come job hunting with me.”
Silver Wolf answered easily, pulling her legs up and curling into the corner of the couch, arms wrapped around her knees.
“Job hunting?
Aren’t you underage?”
There was a note of surprise in Felutina’s voice.
She tipped her head, crimson eyes blinking, Silver Wolf’s small figure reflected in them.
“Yep.
Doesn’t matter, though.
I don’t have a legal name or an ID number anyway, just a nickname somebody stuck on me.
Black market dealers don’t care about that stuff.”
Silver Wolf glanced at her.
“I see.
Ah, I lost again.”
Felutina set the controller down, stood without ceremony, and walked to the corner of the room.
The place was small and shabby.
Apart from the couch with its peeling skin and the ancient game console, it held almost nothing at all.
The food sat in the corner: a few slices of toast still sealed in their packaging, scavenged by Silver Wolf from who knew where.
“You seriously weren’t playing for real!”
Silver Wolf tossed her controller onto the couch and glared at Felutina’s back.
“I was playing for real.
Silver Wolf is just too good,” Felutina’s voice came back, laughter running through it as she lobbed a slice of toast over.
Silver Wolf caught it, and that strange feeling stirred again.
As far back as she could remember, no one had ever praised her like that and actually meant it.
“Hey.”
She started to speak, and Felutina cut her off.
“My name isn’t Hey.
My name is Chu— my name is Felutina.”
“…So much trouble.
Felutina.
This afternoon you’re coming with me to see the middleman.
The two of us, plus the huge crew I invented, should be enough for them to show us some respect.”
Felutina turned around with the toast in her hand, tilted her head, and broke into a brilliant smile.
“Sure.
Whatever you say.”
That smile was bright enough to sting, like sunlight, and Silver Wolf looked away before she’d decided to.
She swallowed the toast in a few rough bites, picked the controller back up, and moved the cursor onto [PLAY AGAIN], muttering:
“…One more round after we eat.”
“Okay.
Only one, all right?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.
You’re such a nag.”
The screen kept flickering, and the dry toast somehow started tasting sweet.
Life is a garbage game.
That was what Silver Wolf thought.
But maybe there was still something to look forward to after all.
[Author’s Note: PS: Plugging a friend’s book — Tangerine Magical Girls.
Go take a look if you’re interested, nya.
[Magical Girl][Tangerine]
In a world that has magical girls and , we must imagine that Amamiya Tobi — who has to play the role of a villainous female executive in order to cure her chronic illness — is happy.
On the night the flashy, repressed magical girl threw Amamiya Tobi onto a soft bed, she was certain to remember the answer she’d given to that one question from the system panel.
“What type of girl do you like?”
“I don’t really get it, but if I have to say something…”
“Clingy and obedient, I guess.
Understanding.
And cheerful and outgoing.”
“Looks like we’re soulmates!”
Luckily, Amamiya Tobi really did meet girls like that.
The only problem is, why is every single one of them so weird?
What do you mean you were reborn?
You can eavesdrop on my inner thoughts?
And what the hell is this system of yours!?
Sigh.
Mina, can we settle this peacefully?
“The Sickly Villainess Will Not Yield to the Godlike Magical Girls!”]
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