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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 · ファンタジー
レビュー数が足りません
105 Chs

It’s a Terrible Day

Daisuko?

The spirit looks away so that Oka doesn't have to see her sister's corpse. He grits his teeth.

Daisuko?! Daisuko?! DAISUKO!

It takes the spirit all of his willpower to keep control over his body. He hears Oka screaming without a mouth and crying without eyes. Her grief is his grief. Her pain is his pain. Her tears are his tears. Even though he only knew her for one day, he felt that in spite of everything, Daisuko was a good person. He bites his lip. This must not register on an emotional level. The enemy is right in front of him, if there was a time to grieve, it is not now.

"That's a pity. She was rather nice." Valeriya tilts her mouth to the side, her eyes expressing nothing but plain disinterest.

"At least pretend to care…" Klara whispers something under her breath.

"...Now and forever, enter unto the ages of ages. Amen." Iko crosses herself before locking eyes with the girl at the center of it all.

A girl with black hair kept in two braids behind her walks forward. Her eyes hide behind large wire-rimmed round glasses . She does not know her name. She does not know who she is. But the fact that she's the one holding her friend's corpse like it's a trophy to be hung means that she is the enemy.

"It's been a while, Kirika." Klara steps forward, arms crossed. It takes her all of her willpower to keep her tone level. "Old friend."

"So this is where you've run off to, Klara. All these years being a thorn in our side." The girl with braided hair bows mockingly. "Oh how I've missed you."

"What did you do to them?" Klara points at the girl with long red hair, who she recognizes to be Kasai, and the girl with short blue hair, who she assumes is her sister Yuki. The two stand behind Kirika, heads hung slightly.

"We adjusted them." Kirika grins, though it's more like she's baring her fangs. "Just enough to suit our needs. No more, no less."

"Is this what her highness has been doing in the past thirty years I've been gone?" Klara lifts her head in contempt, as she beholds her former oath-sister. "Learning how to make more of her playthings?"

"Of course not. That's what we, her loyal researchers, have been doing."

"Piling up the bodies all these years, are we?" Klara cracks her knuckles, already thinking about how much she's going to enjoy crushing her former partner's ego. The thought of losing doesn't even cross her mind once. "You know I can't let that slide."

"You're still sore about that?" Kirika picks at her braids. "They were volunteers."

"They were civilians."

"For the record, we haven't experimented on civilians since." Kirika lifts her head in contempt, beholding her master's second greatest failure– Klara, the first I-C prototype. The one who got away.

There's a sudden gust of wind. It stings Kirika's eyes– she squints without thinking. It is at that instant Klara smells blood and launches her attack. A throwing knife drops down from her sleeve into her palm. She swipes her hand, flinging the knife at a speed just shy of causing a sonic boom.

Kasai and Yuki draw their blades and step forward, intercepting the knife with their swords. They're about to advance when Kirika places her hands on their shoulders and pulls them back. "This one is mine."

A magic circle spreads out from beneath her feet, black markings spontaneously appearing in the soil.

Klara holds her hand out to the others. "Stand back, there's something I want to confirm."

"Shall we compare the strength of our Spells?"

"You mean Jutsu?" Klara claps her hands together before bringing them close to her chest. When she pulls her palms apart, a crackling orb of black lightning grows to fill the space.

"They're phasing out the term 'Jutsu'. 'Spell' is much more appropriate." Kirika raises her hand, a spear of condensed black lightning manifesting in her palm.

"So smug. But for how long–?!" Klara pulls the orb apart, destabilizing the balanced equilibrium within the sphere and turning them into a pair of volatile onyx spider webs. Bringing her arms around in a circle, she focuses the energy into a pair of whips and lashes out at Kirika.

"Predictable!" Kirika raises her offhand in front of her, conjuring a shell of writhing black lightning. Its charge repels the charge in the whips, sending them arcing out back where they came from. Kirika counters Klara's offense by raising her main hand and hurling the spear directly at Klara. It pierces through the shell, unimpeded.

Klara windmills her forearms, bringing the whips spiraling into a coil which wraps around the spear and tears it apart into little more than black motes– clusters of electrons.

"Not bad." Klara smirks as she cracks her whips. "Did your master teach you that?"

"Self-taught." Kirika smiles as she dispels her shield and conjures a small ball of pink-blue flame that dances at the tip of her index finger. "It seems we're evenly matched. Shall we try a different approach?"

Klara lets go of the whips and they fizzle into stray electrons. Pink-blue flame ignites on her shoulder before crawling down her arms. The fire is tame, solid– the controlled burn of a lit matchstick. But the instant she snaps her fingers, the blaze cascades into an inferno. A roaring blast surges forth from her extended arms. It envelops Kirika from head to toe, her silhouette melting into the overwhelming firepower. Klara sustains the burn for what must be nearly a full minute before dispelling it. The last of the cinders fade away into nothingness, and yet, Kirika is completely untouched. Though, something's different. Klara can smell it, the familiar scent of her own magic. But it's not coming from herself, rather, it's coming from the magic circle beneath Kirika's feet.

"Do you like my Transmutation?"

"I see. So you've created an entirely new type of Jutsu."

Kirika frowns ever so slightly. "Again with your and your Jutsu this, Jutsu that. Call it by its real name: Transmutation." She sighs. "Now look, you've gone and got me all worked up."

"What can I say? The lingo grows on you."

"Hmph." Kirika clicks her tongue. "Regardless, any and all Genjutsu is powerless against my Transmutation. Go ahead, hit me with your best shot, see what happens."

"Klara…" Iko steps forward but Klara simply holds her hand out.

"Relax, Iko. I've already won."

"Twice the pride, double the fall, Klara." Kirika lets out a laugh that violates the eardrums of everyone who listens to it. "You taught me that."

"You'll see." Klara lowers herself, raises her hand against Kirika, and unleashes another gout of flame.

Kirika merely sneers. She swipes her index finger through the air. A slash of pure, concentrated pink and blue manifests between her and the blaze. Casting such a spell should be impossible for a single person to withstand. But she isn't casting a spell, she's merely drawing on the magical power absorbed by her transmutation and releasing it in a concentrated form. As the sea of flame surges headlong, it is parted by the slash. An ocean of destruction split into two.

"As expected from my former partner." Kirika smiles as she draws another line, this time as if drawing it from an invisible sheathe. Rather than a solid slash, this one more closely resembles a 'stab.' A crescent of condensed heat pierces the burning flood, stirring and dissipating the flickering flames as it passes. It meets its mark, melting Klara's arm in two.

"Not bad." Klara takes the half of her arm that's warping and bends it back into place, using the still molten metal to fuse them back together. "I miscalculated. I really miscalculated."

There's Kirika's laugh again. "Tremble before the rumble of scientific triumph–"

"But I will not retract my statement. As I said, I've already won."

"Hm? This again? If you're so confident, just try it–"

Klara lifts an open palm to her chin before blowing. With the help of a little magic, the tiny puff of air that comes out of her mouth quickly snowballs into a breeze then into a gust then into a gale then into a tempestuous squall. Kirika raises her hand in front of her face to absorb the winds. "Pathetic…"

The air seems to flow around an invisible sphere surrounding Kirika. She smiles sadistically for an instant then her grin is wiped away. Kirika stops. She's finally noticed. Silver peeking out from the back of her hand and the red dripping down. She retracts her hand and realizes it's been pierced by a throwing knife. "A–ah!"

Klara swallows her saliva.

"A– AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!" Kirika clutches her hand. Her poor hand. Her poor, poor hand.

"You always were a crybaby." Klara finally sighs, her gambit having paid off.

"My hand! My perfect hand!" Tears burst from Kirika's eyes as she falls to her knees, crying and wailing. The once proud, high, mighty Kirika reduced to a blubbering, wailing mess. Twice the pride, double the fall, indeed. "My master gave me this body and you ruined it!"

Klara merely sits down on the ground, cross-legged. Watching, waiting, to see what happens next.

"YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!" Though it's hard to take Kirika's words seriously when she's in this state, the gravitas of her words are unmistakable. "Master will hear about this!"

"No worries, miss, We'll get them back for that." Oe claps her hands together and has chainsaw blades burst from her arms and head. Both Yuki and Kasai step forward as well in perfect lockstep. "Time for Oe to let 'er rip–!"

"We need to go home!"

"..."

"NOW!"

"It'll just be a moment–"

"I need to repair the damage as soon as possible before it becomes permanent." The first I-C's didn't have auto-repair functions.

"Alright, alright! Fine, let's go home for the day." Oe dispels the chainsaws and starts patting Kirika on the back, glaring at Klara and the others all the while.

"Carry me! I can't risk any more damage to my form!"

"That's a little…"

Kirika glares at her with obvious mania in her eyes. Oe does that head tilt thing that's the universal sign for "Alright, fair enough." and lifts her onto her back.

Silently, the Lady of Tokyo's forces withdraw from the battlefield, leaving the others to stew in the silence.