A Girl at the Park

> if I ever got ‘magic powers’, why would I help protect a city, lol

> (╯ರ ~ ರ)╯︵ ┻━┻

> THEY ARE THE CURSED ONEEEEE!!!

> cute magical girl exists??? haha, lol

It really pissed him off. These doom-scrolling braindeads be spouting nonsense nowadays. Magical girl becoming horror urban legend? What a laugh! Curses to those who made him waste a sigh on such stupid things.

Scrolling more would just invite ticks into his head, so Toshiya just slid the phone back into his pocket. In the first place, magical girls are moe, dammit! And for someone to call them otherwise? A disgrace to moe-game lovers around the world.

“Sigh… Let’s just stop thinking about it.”

Toshiya got his adorable and definitely-not-cursed Nami waiting for him at home. Fiery-red hair that reached the waist. Adorned in her fluffy magical girl dress. A smile that could heal the whole wide world.

–Despite being 2D, that is.

But that’s besides the point. Who wouldn’t want to be healed after a tiring night of working as a customer-punching-bag barista? And just to clarify, Italian Macchiato is bitter, and if the one who orders it didn’t know about it, then that’s on them. Stupid.

It was the usual route. Took a left. Took a right. The neighbourhood block-walls that made the one-way street felt even slimmer than it should be. And the unreliable flickering bulbs that hung inside the slanted poles.

Then the park. The familiar checkpoint–another 5 minutes before reaching sweet home. Spacious. Open. Dark…

Handrails preventing kids from running to the junction, a lone slider and monkey-bar construct at the center–and if Toshiya recalled–a verdant garden with a fountain further back. But he got no business here, so he continued daydreaming about Nami.

At least, until he saw someone; Alone on the park’s bench, stealing a pole’s spotlight.

He pinched his eyes. Auburn hair tied in a low-twintail. Black dress with long white sleeves—definitely a girl. Not that he could see her face, but that’s definitely it, right? On second thought, what’s a girl doing here at this time?

Don't tell me… Was it a ghost? That #-chan story of the slit throating mask-covered woman!?

As if.

She sat hunching, palming her knee. Her back raised and lowered out of breath. No ghost would ever need oxygen–not that he knew. Rather than ghost, she looked like Nami when she got rejected by the MC on one of the routes; A truly tragic scene that was.

In any case, it would be bitter–than Italian Macchiato–if her face suddenly got into a lost person documentary in Y##Tube. Toshiya rather be called a creep than finding that video while scrolling randomly one day.

He put on his bravest face. And took on his bravest steps.

As his feet reached her interaction radius, he pressed the ‘E’ key, “H-Hey. Y-Y-You good?”

…Should’ve cleared his throat.

She snapped her head, “HUH?! WHAT THE?! HOW?!”

Her suddenness jumped him. But more than that, “W-WOAH!! Y-YOU’RE BLEEDING!! WHAT THE HELL!!” Red–obviously blood–dripped down her forehead, smothering her face full of it.

She gripped Toshiya firmly. “GET OUT!! NOW!!” And shook him by the shoulders.

“WHAT THE—!”

SLAPPP!!!!!!

……!?!

She disappeared.

–No. She was hit?

By something?

It was black. Like a rope? But thicker. It gave a whiplash boom when it slapped her out of existence.

Where did she…??

His eyes followed the dust trail on the ground, and landed on her figure. She lied there;

Motionless.

…Eh?

His eyes snapped back to the bench. That something was still there. Its glossy skin reflected the pole’s lights.

…Tentacle…?

It raised itself.

!!!!!!!

BAMMMM!!! Wood crunches echoed. Shrapnels cut his face. His eyes opened only to see the ground. His palms stings, and so were his knees. But to hell with that; as long as that thing didn’t slap him, a thousand dolphin dive was nothing.

His feet scrambled to get up. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” His eyes scurried to find it. That tentacle. The one that hurt him. Messing up his night with his beloved Nami.

Then he found it.

—Already raised.

Shit.

Apparently that must’ve been how a fly would feel. Getting a slap of death.

BAMMM!!!

A smoke. A fiery pink blast ruptured the tentacle, shoving it back. Part of the tip was blown from its stalk, hitting the ground with a splat!

Then, it disintegrated.

Toshiya scrambled. His stomach was there. Same goes for his chest. Head still intact.

“RUN FROM THERE, IDIOT!” She snapped him out.

Toshiya looked at her. Head still bleeding, she kneeled on one foot, eyes steadied on her shotguns.

Dual-wielded.

Huh?! Shotguns?!

But that doesn't matter right now. Toshiya ran back. Back from where he came.

He ran.

Bonk! A pain slammed his face, then he fell–butt first.

“W-What?!” He got back up.

He hit something. He definitely hit something just then.

Again—One foot over the park’s line.

bonk. A ripple. Oil-like. Invisible.

A wall.

“Shit!” He smacked it; Once. Twice. The ripple‘s still there. The wall’s still there.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!” A distant shout.

Toshiya turned back. The girl jumped and ducked, dodging the slams and swings from the tentacle.

Two tentacles.

No–four?!

Booms and claps rebounded, forming clouds of dust. The air exploded with the smell of gunpowder as both her shotguns spewed pink blazes.

“LEAVEEEE!!!!!”

“I-I’M TRYINGG!!!!”

He stepped back, eyeing the limpid oil-like plane. It aligned with the park’s handrail, with the top reaching the sky. A perfectly cubed box.

A barrier?!

Magic? Otherworld? Military-grade technology? But knowing about it wouldn't help either way.

His eyes landed on a park’s toilet–he ran.

= = = = =

Annoying.

Annoying, annoying, annoying.

It'd been more than thirty-minutes. Pain seeping from head to toe. Everything's just red now. Each blast only invited another black limb into its place. Each slam sticks dirt into hair. Each swing forced another jump like madmans.

Annoying. And the octopus’s core’s still intact.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, some random guy got himself into the barrier who knows how. Sanami told him to leave, but he ran to the toilet.

“UGH!!!!”

She’s supposed to have a sleepover at Yuyu’s house. Not getting beaten by some stupid big-ass tako.

“Zahnrad! Status!”

His light popped over her shoulder. That tiny entity of bunched-up gears. The familiar Clink! Clank! of her ‘Contractor’.

“Mana–Low. Blood level–Low. Duration left–Three minutes. Viable strategy–Processing… Processing… Processing...” Same monotonic report.

“You must be kidding me?!”

BAMMM!!!! Another cloud of throat choking dust.

She jumped—barely.

“May I suggest switching into Standby Mode, Miss Sanami?”

Standby Mode. She hated having to rely on it. But there’s no other choice. “Please do, Zahnrad!”

“Switching into–Standby Mode.”

A jingle rang next to her ears. And the gears dispersed into thin air. A faint crimson-red glow coated her. Oxygen fills the lung. Everything became lighter—faster.

Great–but not great. Now the shotguns were nothing but a toy to this thick-skinned octopus. In the end, the plan was still in process. Couldn’t call out to him anymore.

Think Sanami! Think!

A garden entered her sight.

Trees. Bushes. But more importantly,

Shadows—Perfect.

She loaded tension into both feet. And kicked the ground. Boom! The air whistled, she landed in seconds.

“Now I can—!”

Smack!

Her left hand burnt. A sudden whip. The trigger wasn’t there anymore.

Shit! She dove.

She crawled.

Crawled–crawled–crawled. The bushes pricked her skin; Irritating. But as long as she can hide, It’s my damn win! You stupid tako!