The box nailed Bridget square in the head, knocking her back and slamming her head into the table with a loud thud.

“How ya like that, bitch!”

She didn’t move.

“Uh… Bridget?”

She lifted herself from the table, rubbing her head where it slammed into the table before shooting a death glare at me. It sent a shiver down my spine.

She then started crying. Her eyes were also brown instead of purple. I wonder if I knocked her contacts out… she’s crying a lot.

“You jerk!”

Bridget shoved passed me and stormed out of my apartment, slamming the door behind her.

That wasn’t fair. She shoots me with a death ray, and I’m supposed to take it? I throw a box at her, and she treats me like I’m a villain. She stormed out so quickly that she left her notebook on the table. Was it her homework?

I picked the notebook up. A very typical school notebook with her name and title on the cover read Magical Girl 101. I flipped through the pages. It looks like she was in the middle of explaining spell casting when I walked in.

It didn’t take me long to realize the book was for me. The first few pages were dedicated to teaching me how to transform and undo my transformation. Little words of encouragement next to instructions that sounded difficult and illustrations of her cheering me on.

My heart sank.

Why did it turn out like this? I don’t even know what to do now. Do I go after her? Wait for her? She knows how to find me, but I know nothing about her.

***

“A very warm welcome to each and every one of you. Distinguished principal, respected staff and teachers, and my dear fellow students. Welcome…”

The opening ceremony droned on. On and on. Something to make such a momentously mundane event more important than it actually is.

“Hey, is that her? The weirdo from Lancaster Middle?”

“I’ve heard about her. She was scouted for St. Agnes but was kicked out after an outburst…”

“She has a weird superiority complex…”

“You mean a god complex?”

I wonder if they know I can hear them. Perhaps that is the point. They want others to hear.

“I’ve heard about her, too…”

“She called everyone meaningless…”

“... the teacher cried when she tore into her…”

“... She’s a bully…”

“... Delusional…”

Delusional. Was that what she called me too? Was that all I was? A delusional child who only claims to have seen oblivion and craves the end of this eternal suffrage.

I hate this. Why couldn’t they talk about something else?

It makes me sick to my stomach—the darkness seeping off each and every single one of these malformed creatures.

“... And once again, welcome, both new and returning, to Lancaster High School.”

From the auditorium to the classroom. It was more of the same. Pandering, congratulations, a reason to make us feel successful while pushing away actually work for another day.

I claimed the fabled second to the back row next to the window seat. Seating arrangements were randomized, and the class was near full. So naturally, I had to manipulate causality to get this seat.

I took out my notebook. I wanted to do something special for her. I was pretty mean, but it felt so good to see her again. I got a little carried away in my excitement. Maybe Kyrie will forgive me after this.

I smiled as I worked. When was the last time I smiled while at school, I wondered? I hope she doesn’t make fun of the apology I drew. Ah, right. She’s probably also going to need to know how to transform.

For most magical girls, you look inward on yourself. Find the jewelry box. Envision it. Transforming is as easy as taking the crystal from the jewelry box, and returning is as simple as putting it away.

But for you, it might be more like moving a relique to and from a treasury. So great is your magic, and so bountiful is the light—

“What are you working on, weirdo?”

As I was lost in thought, a student swiped my notebook.

“Ah! Hey! Give that back!”

“No way, let me read it first. You were grinning like an idiot, so let me read it.”

She was taller than me and held the notebook above me.

“Magical girls? Seriously, how old are you?”

“Why are you humans like this! Just give it back and leave me alone!”

“Ha, why don’t you use one of your magic spells and make me.”

If I hadn’t used them this morning to help Kyrie awaken, I would!

Kill the emotion.

I stopped.

“What’s wrong? Giving up already?”

“There is no point. Keep the notebook if you wish. Its contents are wasted on someone like you.”

I returned to my seat and gazed out at the courtyard. I could still sense it, though. The other students. Their thoughts were not a secret to me. Boring, all of them. The rest were even less helpful. Just sit there quietly, you louse.

It's none of my business.

She deserves it.

Bullies attacking one another, best I don’t get involved.

“What the hell? Are you looking down on me or something?”

I turned my gaze back toward the student whose name I would never recall. Was I grinning again? I didn’t mean to, but she was feeble in thinking of her self-importance. Selfimpotenence. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You bitch!”

She slapped the book across my face, and I let it fall to the floor. At the same time, the teacher entered the classroom.

“Lunch is over! Bridget, Haily, teacher’s office, now! The rest of you, self-study.”

***

Divination is apparently my specialty. That’s what Bridget’s notebook said, anyway. Honestly, it didn’t feel like that. I was just heading to the first place that came to mind.

Lancaster’s Public Library. The most extensive library on this side of the world. At the highest point in Angel Grace Heights, it overlooks the rest of Lancaster.

The building itself was built into the mountainside. The mountain made a semi-circled around Lancaster, cradling it against the bay.

“Hello, young lady. I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. Would you like to register a library card with us?”

“Oh, um… Sure?”

I filled out the paperwork at the entrance. Would I need a library card if I wanted to access the archives below? That’s where I felt Bridget was.

“Do you have your school I.D. with you?”

“No, I don’t. Would the last four of my social work?”

“Yes, we can use that.”

I paid the registration fee, and she printed a plastic card with the library’s emblem on the back. A tree growing on a large crystal with books in its canopy.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I hope you’re able to find something to read. We recently got a donation of manga that was added to the library. I’ve been told to advertise it as we’re trying to get more kids into using the library.”

“Oh, that’s actually good to know.” Wait, I can’t be getting distracted.

I hurried to the back of the library. I couldn’t tell you how I knew. It's just something I felt while holding onto Bridget’s notebook. In the back of the library was a bookcase of blank books.

Pulling the bookcase away from the wall revealed an old-style elevator lift glided with brass. There were a set of levers, and I pulled the one that would take me down to the archives just below the ground floor.

The bookcase and lift gate closed as I started to descend slowly.

The archives were half server room and half storage for old books to which the public wasn’t granted access.

I walked between the shelves and librarians, transcribing and translating old books into a digital format. Now that I was here, I actually wasn’t sure where Bridget was.

“Excuse me, miss. Are you lost?”

I looked up at an older gentleman dressed in a waistcoat. His librarian I.D. dangled off the same breast pocket his monocle was attached to.

“I’m actually looking for a friend. Her name is Bridget, and we got into a fight. I came here to apologize to her.”

“A friend of the lady Bridget, you say.”

He looked thoughtful while stroking his well-groomed and pointed goatee. I wonder if dressing like a victoria butler was his uniform or his hobby. Either way, I thought he looked pretty sharp in it.

“She is in her personal office. You can find her there.” He looked up at a balcony with heavy-looking wooden double doors. “There is a spiral stairwell that will take you up.”

“There isn’t an elevator?” It was a long walk to get here.

“Haha, no. Bridget was even hesitant about adding the stairs since she could teleport. But then her sister wouldn’t be able to visit.”

Wait, does this person know? Before I could ask, he waved me off with a smile and went about his business.

Bridget was curled up on a sofa with her knees pulled to her chest. Sitting beside her is another girl with her arm around her, comforting her.

Bridget looked away while the other girl addressed me.

“Hello, you must be Kyrie.” She stood and, with a bow, introduced herself to me. She had a kind smile and wore the same school uniform as Bridget. “My name is Rainy. I’m Bridget’s younger sister. It's nice to meet you finally.”

She was such a contrast to her sister. I almost got lost her how her blue eyes sparkled. Her sand white hair was also a contrast to Bridget’s jet black. She said she is the younger sister, but I think she might be taller than me, which is also to say that she’s taller than Bridget.

“Hi, Rainy. My name is actually Lawrence. Kyrie is just a name I use online.”

“Yes, it comes from the latter half of valkyrie. And you liked how it also sounds like the Japanese word for beautiful.”

“Y-yeah, how did you know?”

“My sister told me. She’s told me a lot about you, actually. A long time ago, you were her only friend. And she couldn’t ask for a better one.”

Bridget turned away from us. Probably to hide her embarrassment, but I could still see her ears turning red. Rainy looked back at her sister for a moment and smiled. She almost reminded me of an angel.

“With a name like Lawrence, though. I think Lala would have been a much cuter magical girl name.”

I grimaced in my embarrassment at hearing the name Lala.

“Sorry, but only the Asian half of my family can call me that. And only if they are older than me.”

“Oh, come now. I was just trying to lighten up the mood.” Rainy said while giggling.

Rainy shifted her attention from me and returned to comforting Bridget, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, Bridget. Don’t you have something to say to your friend?”

Bridget mumbled into her knees.

“Kyrie’s not going to be able to hear you if you don’t speak up.”

“Actually…” I blurted that much out, but I still had trouble forming the words. “I’m… sorry… It was childish of me to throw that box at you.”

I held out her notebook.

“You were only trying to help me. And you wanted to see your friend again…” I shook my head. “I don’t know who your friend is, though.”

Before I knew it, Bridget had her arms placed around me in a hug.

“I’ve had to wait… for so long… I… just wanted to see you again. You’re not her, but your soul is still just as confusing. One built on fragile happiness, mired in unfulfilled dreams and hopes. And yet you carry on with this life. You meet with others, and you don’t hold yourself back. You learn and grow, knowing your life’s meaning will someday die with you. How? Why? You are the light that has guided me to this future.”

Well, now I was feeling awkward. I looked over to Rainy as Bridget buried herself in my bosom. Rainy just smiled and gave me a thumbs up.

What was I supposed to do with that? Help me with your sister!

***

“Does she cry like this often?”

Bridget continued to bury her face in my breast.

“I really am sorry. My sister has always been this way. I think girls with large breasts are her type.”

“... Eh?”