With the reappearance of monsters in Incheon, the existence of Magical Girl Sun and Mun began to reveal itself to the citizens once again.
Three years had passed, and their story had reached a point where it was not even mentioned in the Magical Girl gallery.
Although there had been an incident last Seol, it was so brief that a whole year passed afterward.
It was newsworthy, but talk of her had only circulated in communities like the gallery for a very short time.
As the monsters started to appear as usual, the reactions were rather lukewarm unless one was an enthusiastic fan of Sun and Mun.
Most people’s reaction was something like, “Oh, I guess they’ve returned after being quiet for a while…?”
As for a few peculiar individuals, they could only speculate about the reason behind the duo’s long absence.
In short, they were a group spinning conspiracy theories.
[But is it really reasonable for one area to go three years without any monsters? (3)]
While Shiyeon was watching an animation, she was rolling around on the floor, deeply reading through the Magical Girl gallery.
When she wasn’t active, she hadn’t cared much, but now that they were active again, she found herself searching for her magical girl name in the gallery due to the increasing interest.
A long title designed to attract attention.
Inside that title, it logically explained how even if monsters appeared randomly, it couldn’t be possible for one area to go without them for one or two years.
The possibilities included explanations that they might have been away due to pregnancy or childbirth.
Well, it was a plausible deduction for those who didn’t know the actual age of magical girls.
And then, there were comments attached to that logical post.
[I raised you for 30 years like you, who shits around all day on a weekday afternoon, so why doesn’t that make sense?]
ㄴ [Why does this guy look so handsome?]
ㄴ [Is this guy crazy? Hahaha]
‘Is he out of his mind?’
Looking at the full-throttle, over-the-top comments beneath the long, well-crafted post, Shiyeon thought with an incredulous half-smile.
Indeed, this place seemed to be a gathering spot for troubled individuals.
While listening to the voices of male voice actors, which she now didn’t care about, she was staring at her smartphone.
The sound of something bubbling in a pot and the sweet yet spicy aroma tickled her nose.
“I’ve prepared dinner, so I’ll be going now.”
“Yes, come in.”
The lady finished preparing dinner and left right away.
With a casual farewell and the sound of the front door clicking shut.
Once the lady left, the first to react were the mascots.
“Ugh, I don’t know what to say.”
Leaving the bouncing Gomtaengi, who was expressing frustration from the cushion, I got up from the floor and walked over to the induction cooktop.
The source of the spicy-sweet aroma was spicy chicken stew.
I generously scooped thick-cut carrots, potatoes, and chicken thighs into a moderately deep bowl and placed it beside me.
“Shiyeon, are you eating rice now?”
“Huh? No.”
“Then I’ll eat first.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I scooped sufficient white rice from the rice cooker and pressed it down into a deep bowl.
These days, we tended to have our meals separately.
Although we were in the same space, it felt somewhat like we weren’t.
I was glad I got along well with my friends, but inevitably, we would naturally drift apart if we didn’t keep talking through middle school or high school.
These days, messenger apps serve as a substitute for phone calls or messages, so I wonder if we can remain close for a long time?
Wrapping up my various thoughts, I picked up a chicken thigh from the plentiful bowl with my chopsticks and brought it to my mouth.
Even though the seasoning didn’t deeply penetrate, it was sufficiently moist.
Similarly, although the seasoning hadn’t soaked in deeply, the carrots and potatoes maintained a pleasant crunchiness and tenderness, lingering in between.
After firmly picking it up with my chopsticks, I rolled it around in my mouth several times until the chicken thigh detached into cartilage and bone.
The combination of the spicy sweet seasoning and white rice was always perfect.
Once I finished eating and cleaned up the small dishes, it was finally time for Shiyeon to start her meal.
During the time Shiyeon was eating, I was fidgeting with my smartphone, lying on the upstairs floor.
With my chin pressed to the ground, I was absentmindedly playing a game on my smartphone when Gomtaengi came flying over and asked in a low voice.
“Is something awkward between you two?”
“Huh?”
At the question about something being awkward, I briefly gazed at the featureless wallpaper, pondering.
I thought it was a natural outcome of having more deep thoughts, but it seemed Gomtaengi believed the atmosphere in the house was rather heavy.
Using her clasped hands as a pillow, she lay down and said as she turned her gaze upward.
“Well, it’s only natural, I suppose.”
At the fifth grade of elementary school, even if it wasn’t perfect, it was a process of becoming a mental individual.
The trivial questions that arose could easily be searched for on a smartphone, and everyday conversations could just be had with school friends who had more common ground than I did.
Asking about Jiun or matters related to magical girls was the only thing I needed to ask, so it was natural that I spoke less.
I didn’t want to consider that a problem.
Especially around middle school, I’d need my own time due to puberty.
So, I was thinking about the floor plan of the apartments where Jiun lived, contemplating which room would be Shiyeon’s and which would be mine.
Since I had some extra money saved up from the landlord, I needed to think about what items we would need for living separately.
Initially adding one more computer to what we already had, a desk was essential, wall-mounted air conditioners for each room, separate beds, and at least a high table where we could eat decently.
Even simulating it in my head with affordable options, the estimate seemed like it would easily surpass several hundred.
‘I need to live diligently.’
In the end, it was all about money; money was everything in the world.
Whether the relationships that had built up until now changed or not, time was still passing.
Around November, the time to decide which middle school to attend came, and my first-choice school was a coeducational middle school.
Since biologically I was a girl, I couldn’t attend an all-boys school, and I chose a coed one, afraid I wouldn’t be able to adapt to a girls’ school.
When we were young, Shiyeon, who used to cling to me like a tick, chose a girls’ middle school because her friend was going.
It would be best if we could all go to the same school, but if it’s what she wanted, that was just how it was.
Without problem, it was naturally the middle school confirmed as her first choice.
On the orientation day, we each went to the school to receive our textbooks, take placement tests, and choose elective subjects…
There were also practices for the opening ceremony and so on.
In a whirlwind of a day, combining the school uniforms and gym clothes, we ended up spending more than 300,000 each.
Thus, with a birthday that didn’t feel like a birthday and January arrived.
Shiyeon had long since realized the truth about Santa while playing with her friends.
The Christmas that she used to think about every year passed like a simple holiday, and her birthday turned into a day for takeout and cake.
The elementary school graduation ceremony, a once-in-a-lifetime event, was held modestly in the classroom.
‘Ugh, this mask.’
The reason was, an epidemic that erupted just when people began to forget about it.
Whenever one thought it was okay to go without a mask, another outbreak of infectious disease would occur somewhere.
Thanks to that, the spacious auditorium had gone unused; we wore the awkward caps provided by the school to take a group photo and an individual photo in the classroom after receiving our diplomas.
Jiun came to take photos instead of our parents.
Wasn’t that what parents were?
If they come to the graduation ceremony in place of parents who aren’t there, that’s good enough.
After finishing all the photo sessions at the modest graduation, the four of us headed out to the street.
That day, Uncle Dae Han couldn’t come because he was at work.
Feeling nostalgic about the fact that we were becoming middle school students, Jiun shortly exclaimed with a few words.
“Wow, you guys are already middle school students.”
Juwon, now two years old, walked holding her hand tightly with bubblegum shoes.
The trivial sound coming from the tiny shoes was impressive.
“Ma-i unnie!”
Juwon calls me or Shiyeon “unnie.”
Even that pronunciation is difficult for him, so he calls me “Mai” instead of “Mari.”
It strangely reminded me of a space judge.
Since we kept calling Jiun “unnie” every time we visited her home, it had become the first word he learned after “mom” and “dad.”
Knowing this fact, Uncle was very gloomy.
“Juwon, you should call her ‘noona.’”
“Nu, na!”
At any rate, whenever this happened, we tended to correct him on the incorrect word.
Thus, we continued to grow into middle school students.
Simultaneously, we were drifting away from the exclusive benefits we could have enjoyed as children.
Investing hundreds of thousands to millions into a new home didn’t feel regrettable, but the 2.2 times bus fare felt like the world was collapsing.
