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My Life as a Magical Girl in the Yakuza

Seventeen year old Veteran Magical Girl, Shosuko Kuze is assigned to live in crime-riddled Ozawa City after her service in the Yokai Wars. However, mere months after her re-entry into society, tragedy strikes and Shosuko suddenly finds herself being hunted down by I-C's, the enforcers of the International Commission for Magical Girls. She's nearly incarcerated when an organization called the 'Kuze Clan' intervenes. Stranger still, as a Kuze herself, she's part of the organization by birthright. ---------------------------- Cover art by Thunder009 Special thanks to my beta reader and editor, dvsfiction

Koko_3344 · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
105 Chs

Fullmetal Mice

Flames mixed with lightning mixed with tempestuous winds mixed with the hellish fury of two former comrades clash in the silent forest. Pink and blue embers swirl through the air. A swathe of bamboo shoots are reduced to ash as Klara rolls to the side before unleashing her own volley back at Kirika.

"You've grown complacent, Klara." With a simple flourish of the hands, Kirika conjures a familiar circle of black beneath her feet. The burning river flows around her, as if surrounded by an invisible sphere. Kirika sighs. "Whatever happened to the studious tin soldier who came all the way from Russia?"

"Studious?" Klara tilts her head. "I was more than studious, dipshit. I was a goddamn genius."

"You fucking prodigies are always the same, always taking all the credit and leaving people like me to finish the mess you leave behind." Kirika releases another lightning whip to strike at Klara. "You could have at least helped with the paper! We started research on transmutation together. The least you could have done is finished it and then turned traitor instead ."

"I'm good at learning, not writing things down!" Klara creates an identical bolt but with an opposite charge to intercept. The two meet, clash, and collapse into one another in a distorted singularity, silently annihilating both beams in the process.

Kirika runs her hands through her hair. "The difference between science and fucking around is writing things down."

"Still, it's nice to reminisce about good times every once in a while, isn't it?" Klara dusts her clothes off and stands back up. "It's just a shame that they never last."

"We could have had it all, you know. Picture it: You and me, ICMG captains. We could have whined about the new recruits, gone drinking on Fridays, maybe even lived in a tiny shared apartment because our branch's budget barely amounts to half a smoked mackerel." Kirika juggles little balls of black lightning between her fingers. "But no. You and your pride, you just had to be the hero."

"I can't deny that I've done some pretty fucked up things myself. But I will not compromise on my beliefs."

"Just because you had a good reason doesn't mean your actions were good. An ideology is only good for justifying your actions to yourself." Kirika adjusts her glasses out of habit. "You killed four people who were only doing what they thought was right."

"Just because they had a good reason doesn't mean their actions were good. Both you and they sent twelve people to their deaths."

"And you killed four people. Your colleagues, subordinates, superiors, people who trusted you."

"For the record, I've killed far more."

Kirika smirks. "I guess we're both going to hell."

"I guess we are." Klara doesn't smile.

"I'm happy that if nothing else, it's me who sees you off."

"Yeah." Klara cocks her head. "Likewise."

A beat. A standoff. The two women stare into each others' eyes, trying to reconcile their memories with what's happening in front of them. How twisted that it all ended up this way. Still, it's not as though it can be helped. These are the paths they ended up choosing.

"I'll give you one last chance to say your last words." The magic circle at Kirika's feet begins to glow with all the magical energy Klara's been so willingly feeding it.

"There's no rule that a mouse cannot surpass a dog." Klara stares ahead unflinchingly. "That is my final warning to you."

"..." Kirika cocks her head, as if she might come to understand her through mimicry.

Klara cocks her head the other way.

"Your headstone will be a peculiar one." Kirika's neutral facial expression suddenly transforms into one of distilled sadistic intent. "DIE!!!" She unleashes another bolt of lightning. Less like a whip, more like a focused stab of pure magic. At the same time, Klara conjures her own black bolt and hurls it towards Kirika. She throws everything she can into this attack. It's either this or she breathes her last. As the two bolts pass each other, Klara flips her trump card and throws a coin in the lane between the bolts. The metal vibrates from the sheer volume of opposing currents being generated. In a fraction of a second, Kirika registers what she's seeing and comes to a horrifying realization. She does the math in her head, redoes it, redoes it several more times and yet, the result remains. She's staring down the receiving end of an improvised railgun.

The coin punches straight through Kirika's chest. A shockwave erupts through the air. Kirika's mask falls off from the sheer violence of the shot. The viscera from the half of her body that was completely eviscerated slowly unveils itself to truly be shrapnel. But at the same time, the bolt that Klara so conveniently used as half of a railgun has not disappeared. Instead, the electricity invades the entirety of Klara's body, vaporizing her mask, setting her wooden body aflame. There's no time for either of them to scream. The two living corpses stagger in place before falling over.

"...heh."

"..."

"...heheh…"

"..."

"HehehAHAHAHAH…"

Kirika flails around like a puppet with missing strings, laughing. She places her finger into her chest, or rather what remains of it, to find that only half of her mainframe has evaporated. "You… missed. You ruined my perfect body but you missed."

"Didn't… miss… chickened… out…" Klara, body still burning, slowly rises to her feet. Her voice no longer sounds human, instead broken up in a distinct monotone. The flames cast her facemask in an inhuman light. "I could have aimed better but I flinched from the blast."

"Well, what's the plan now, genius? I'd give you about a minute or so before your mainframe overheats and you lose consciousness. Meanwhile, I have all day." Kirika, body missing its upper left half, slowly rises to her feet. "Ahh~ The idea of her highest majesty laying her hands on me, warping my metal back into place, repairing my circuits, her fingers working my insides. My brain trembles from just imagining it!"

"Gross." Klara plays with a fireball in her palm.

"A lady's gotta have hobbies." The air around Kirika ripples with energy. An impossibly large amount.

Klara's eyes widen. "What–?"

"Did you really think that I was dumb enough to bet it all on an all-or-nothing attack? I reserved half of the magical energy I collected." Kirika grins. "Which I will now proceed to use against you."

"Hmph." Klara lowers her center of mass. "Fine. You want to fight that way? Let's fight that way."

"Catch." There is a concept in chess known as the 'Zugzwang.' A worst possible case scenario in which there are no possible good moves in a position. Kirika launches a pinpoint beam of concentrated flame at Klara. She already sees it. Klara can't cancel it out with her own beam of flame, she doesn't have enough firepower. If she tries, the heat from her own blast will overheat her mainframe instantly. She can't dodge, the beam's just too fast for her to even try that. She grins to herself as Klara writhes in Zugzwang. However, there is one position more dangerous than Zugzwang: Falsely tricking yourself into thinking your opponent is in Zugzwang. A burning magic circle extends outwards from Klara's feet. Kirika recognizes its pattern immediately.

"I told you! I'm good at learning, not writing things down!" Klara smiles as the flames explode around her, twirling as if she's surrounded by an invisible sphere.

"H-how?!" Kirika stumbles backwards, forgetting how to stand for a moment. "It took me years to complete our research!"

"I figured it out." The last of the explosion disappears, leaving only a magical girl, a burning magic circle, and a smirk. She twirls her finger through the air, slowly bringing the power from the magic circle into reality and transmuting it into lightning. Pure power crackles all around her. "So this is… transmutation."

Kirika clenches her remaining hand. Klara can steal her research. Klara can outsmart her. Klara can make a mockery of her beloved transmutation. But no matter what, she can't disappoint her master again. She readies herself to transmute whatever Klara throws at her.

With a pirouette, Klara whips her hand out, sending a bolt of pure lightning at Kirika. She holds her hand out to transmute it but much to her surprise, her body seizes up. Electricity travels through her metallic body. This isn't magical lightning. This is pure lightning. True lightning. The kind slung by God and beginner magical girls alike. There's no magic to transmute.

It's so stupid. She's about to die to a beginner level spell. It's no different to a duelist unscrewing their pommel and throwing it at their opponent. The ultimate disgrace. She smiles. Not out of joy, but out of disbelief. It's just… so stupid.

So, so stupid.

As the bolt connects with her body, she feels her mainframe go straight into overdrive from the sheer volume of current being pumped into it. It feels a little something like a sheer heart attack. She collapses. She can't feel anything from the neck down. She closes her eyes. But, strangely enough, she does not die.

"Goddamnit." She hears Klara whisper something under her breath in Russian as she walks over to her.

"You… Got… Me…" Her mouth tastes like static. "Finish… The… Job."

"Nah." Klara shakes her head. "Don't really feel like it."

"...Heh." Kirika tries to laugh but quickly fails. So a simple 'heh' is the best she can muster. "You… Bastard…"

"I don't care if it makes me a hypocrite, I do what I feel like. And I don't particularly feel like killing an old friend." Klara shrugs. "I'm a bastard like that."

"Fair… Enough." Kirika closes her eyes and passes into unconsciousness. As she does, she wonders when was the last time she did something for herself.

"Ahhh…" Klara falls to her knees, her mainframe finally reaching its limit. "I…ko… I hope… you're… okay."

Klara closes her eyes as she feels her mainframe begin to finally reach its heat threshold. As she does, she wonders when was the last time she did something for others. She's about to fall into unconsciousness when a spot of coolness spreads outwards from her chest. Rain. The sky's weeping slowly douses the cinders on her body, cooling her mainframe, breathing life back into her broken body. She groans as she drags herself back onto her feet.

"Alright, c'mon you." With what remains of her arm, she grabs Kirika's head and begins to drag her back to the dojo.