With the reappearance of the monster in Incheon, the presence of Magical Girl Sun and Moon was once again revealed to the citizens.
Three years had passed, and their story had reached a point where it was barely mentioned in the Magical Girl gallery.
It was said that they had deployed once last year during the Lunar New Year, but it was so quick that it was easily forgotten, and now a year had passed since then.
It had become a topic of conversation, but within community outlets like the gallery, their story was merely a fleeting subject.
Once the monsters started appearing as usual, the general reaction was rather lukewarm unless one was already an avid fan of Sun and Moon.
Most people were like, “Oh, okay, it seems they returned after being quiet for a bit…?”
And even among a few peculiar individuals, the discussions were limited to vague speculations about the reasons for their absence.
In short, they were just a bunch spinning conspiracy theories.
[But seriously, how can a region go three years without a monster showing up? (3)]
While Siyeon was glued to her anime, she took a moment to browse through the Magical Girl gallery sprawled out on the floor.
When they weren’t active, she didn’t pay much attention, but now that they were starting up again, she felt compelled to search her Magical Girl name in the gallery and see what was being said.
A long title intended to draw attention.
Within the title, it rationally explained that even if monsters appeared randomly, it was impossible for a region to go one or two years without one showing up.
The possibilities included us being absent due to pregnancy or childbirth.
Well, for those who didn’t know the real ages of the magical girls, it was a reasonable deduction.
And the comments attached to this logical post were no less absurd.
[You’re telling me that someone like you who’s been wasting time on weekdays for 30 years shouldn’t have anything to say?]
ㄴ[Why does this guy look so good?]
ㄴ[Is this guy crazy?ㅋㅋㅋㅋ]
‘Is this guy out of his mind?’
As I looked at the full-throttle, borderline insane comments on a meticulously crafted post, I couldn’t help but chuckle.
Yep, this definitely is a gathering place for the mentally disturbed.
With the voices of male voice actors that didn’t bother me anymore playing in the background, I was gazing at my smartphone when…
The bubbling sound of something boiling and the sweet yet spicy aroma tickled my nose.
“I’ve prepared dinner, so I will be leaving now.”
“Okay, thank you.”
The aunty finished dinner and was getting ready to head back home.
With a casual farewell exchanged, the front door clicked shut.
Once the aunty was gone, the mascots were the first to react.
“Ugh, I got nothing to say.”
Leaving behind the bouncing Gomteng who was whining on the cushion, I got up from the floor and walked over to the induction stove.
The source of the spicy and sweet aroma was dakbokkeumtang (spicy braised chicken).
In a suitably deep dish, I served generous portions of thickly sliced carrots, potatoes, and chicken thighs before placing it beside me.
“Siyeon, are you eating now?”
“Huh? No.”
“Then I’ll eat first.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Scoop out a good amount of white rice from the rice cooker and packed it neatly into a deep bowl.
Recently, we had been eating separately.
Even though we were in the same space, it felt oddly distant.
I was glad that I got along well with my friends, but naturally, as we went through middle and high school, we’d eventually drift apart if we didn’t keep talking.
Nowadays, messenger apps seem to suffice as communication, so will we manage to stay close for a long time?
I pushed those wandering thoughts aside and picked up a drumstick from the generous dish with my chopsticks and brought it to my mouth.
Even if the seasoning wasn’t deeply infused, it was sufficiently moist chicken.
The carrots and potatoes also didn’t have a strong flavor, but they hovered between crunchiness and softness with a moderate texture.
After thoroughly chewing it a few times, the chicken separated into cartilage and bone.
The combination of spicy-sweet seasoning and white rice was always perfect.
After finishing my meal and clearing the small dishes away, it was finally time for Siyeon to eat.
While Siyeon was dining, I toiled with my smartphone on the second floor of the house.
With my chin resting on the floor, I aimlessly played games on my smartphone when Gomteng zoomed in low on the ground and asked quietly.
“Don’t you two feel a bit awkward?”
“Huh?”
At the question of whether we felt awkward, I momentarily directed my gaze toward the wall that had no patterns and thought it over.
I figured this was a natural outcome as my thoughts grew deeper and more complex, but apparently, Gomteng thought the atmosphere in the house had soured a lot.
Lazily curling his fingers under his chin like a pillow and tilting his head back, he said.
“Eh, that’s just how it goes.”
I couldn’t say they were perfect at fifth grade, but they were definitely becoming a person mentally.
Any trivial questions could easily be found by searching on a smartphone, and casual conversations were better off with school friends who had a better shared understanding than I did.
If questions regarding Ji-eun unni or about the Magical Girl genre arose, those could easily be directed toward me, which naturally reduced my speaking.
I didn’t necessarily want to label that as a problem.
Especially around middle school, puberty would mean they’d need their own space too.
So, looking through the layout of the apartments where Ji-eun unni lived, I was thinking about which room would be Siyeon’s and which would be mine.
With some money saved from the landlord, I had to consider what items I’d need for our separate rooms.
First, I’d need to add another computer to what we had, a desk for basics, wall-mounted air conditioning for both rooms, beds for each, and at the very least, a tall dining table where we could eat properly.
Even when simulating within my mind using budget-friendly options, the estimate would likely exceed several hundred.
‘I’ve got to work hard.’
In the end, it all boiled down to money; money is everything in this world.
Whether our previous relationships were changing or not, time marched forward.
Come November, it was time to decide on the middle school we’d each attend, and I had chosen a co-ed school as my top pick.
Biologically, I was a girl, so I couldn’t go to an all-boys school, and my gut told me I wouldn’t be able to adapt to an all-girls school either, so this was my last resort.
Siyeon, who used to cling to my side like a little shadow, was now choosing an all-girls middle school following her friend’s lead.
Ideally, it would be best if we went to the same school, but what can we do if she prefers that?
Without any significant issues, it would naturally be confirmed as the school we’d choose.
On the preliminary meeting day, we went to each school, picked up textbooks, took placement tests, selected elective courses…
And that was not even mentioning the entrance ceremony practice and other activities.
It was a whirlwind of a day, and combined with the cost of school uniforms and gym clothes, we each blew over 300,000 won.
So, together with the indifferent birthday that didn’t feel like a birthday at all, January arrived.
Siyeon had long since figured out the truth about Santa while hanging out with her friends.
Christmas, which I used to rack my brain over every year, had passed by like just another holiday, and my birthday had devolved into a mere day for takeaway food and cake.
The once-in-a-lifetime elementary school graduation ceremony was held rather modestly in the classroom.
‘Ugh, this darn mask.’
The reason was the endemic that would flare up just when you thought it was safe.
Just when you think you could go without a mask, an outbreak would spring up from somewhere again.
Thanks to that, the vast auditorium we couldn’t even use, we wore the awkward graduation caps distributed by the school, took a group photo in the classroom, and an individual photo too.
Siyeon and I had Ji-eun unni come in place of our parents to take the photos with us.
Perhaps a parent is someone who shows up during those moments?
Without our parents, having someone show up for graduation is what makes them a parent.
After wrapping up the modest graduation photo shoot, our little group headed out to the streets.
Once again, Uncle Dae-han was working and couldn’t come.
I couldn’t help but feel nostalgic about the fact that we were finally becoming middle school students, and Ji-eun unni mumbled a few words with a short sense of awe.
“Wow, you two are already middle schoolers!”
Alongside the two-year-old Juwon, who was eagerly gripping our hands while waddling along with his squeaky shoes.
His short strides and the squeaky noise from his baby shoes were quite impressive.
“Mai unni!”
When Juwon called either Siyeon or me, he referred to us as unni.
The difficult pronunciation being too tough for him still had him calling me Mai instead of Mari.
For some reason, it made me think of a space inspector.
Since we kept calling Ji-eun unni unni whenever we visited, it was a word he learned before the word “dad” after “mom.”
Once Uncle Dae-han realized that, he had become awfully gloomy.
“Juwon, you should call her ‘noona’.”
“No, I want!”
Anyway, during these moments, we always corrected him when he used the wrong word.
And thus, we became middle schoolers.
At the same time, we were drifting away from the privileges we had as children.
While investing several hundred thousands to millions in the new house didn’t sting too much, the idea of the bus fare being 2.2 times felt like the world was crumbling down.
My site has received a lot of DMCA notices, lol. From now on, I will update the MTL on https://darkmtl.com/.
The site is fast and lightweight because there are no ads yet. However, the theme is different from Cybor-TL, so take some time to familiarize yourself.
Support me by donating at least $10, and you'll have the right to request any novel from Novelpia (excluding 19+ content) using a newly developed tool.