The day of the apocalypse, when one must go outside wearing a mask, has finally arrived.
In everyday life, white masks were something rarely needed.
I clearly remember that even when I caught the flu, I would take off that thick cloth mask because it was uncomfortable; now it seems I’ll have to change and wear disposable masks every day.
While I felt strangely at ease in the facemask, this disposable mask is just suffocating.
One fortunate thing is that neither Shiyeon nor I need glasses.
During school hours, the streets are filled with masks.
Especially elementary school students around the same age, all of them without exception are wearing masks.
There are older individuals whose masks hang uncomfortably around their chin.
Or some people are simply wearing cloth masks they found lying around the house.
And then there was…
“Is that person insane?”
A person in a black robe and cane, wearing a mask resembling a crow’s beak.
Seeing someone dressed like a plague doctor walking around nonchalantly made me feel like the world was indeed going crazy.
Still, that peculiar attire looked like it had just popped out of a fantasy world, often catching the attention of boys passing by.
Although it seemed utterly useless against the plague, it was undeniably cool.
As for public opinion, walking around like that without a cosplay festival is certainly a sign of madness.
Noticing the prominent black color, Shiyeon points at that person with her indoor slipper-clutching hand and asks,
“Mary, what’s that?”
“Just a crazy person, don’t pay attention.”
To make sure Shiyeon doesn’t get curious, I quickly pulled her hand and urged her toward school.
Why were kids out like that during daytime school hours?
There had been a shift in the atmosphere, as if the streets and even the school had come to a different world during the last few weeks we’d been cooped up at home.
Students and teachers alike wore cloth masks or disposable masks without fail.
Occasionally, I would see kids pulling their masks down slightly below their noses, but they were still wearing them.
I had never seen people wearing masks like this for any illness before.
After switching my white indoor slippers for sneakers, in this brief moment of checking the community on my smartphone in class,
I decided to kill time by entering a gallery to glance at some concept posts.
[What the hell is this idiot doing on the subway during work hours? (55)]
“Huh?”
The title immediately piqued my curiosity from the first line.
When I pressed the title with my small finger, a large photo appeared after a brief loading time.
The picture was taken inside a subway train during rush hour, showing a person whose entire face was covered by a gas mask, leaning against the subway wall while using their smartphone.
Scrolling further down brought me to a picture of the gas-mask-wearing man giving the peace sign with his fingers.
What the author wrote, which they might not have been able to say at the time, was captured in the post.
[He even gave me fan service when I took a picture.]
[Crazed woman]
The insane post elicited curious reactions in the comments.
My finger instinctively continued to scroll down.
[What the fuck lol that gas mask is hilarious]
[Is it line 1 again?]
[Why does it only seem like fun things happen on line 1??????]
[Only the people from Seoul seem to enjoy this.]
[Why the heck does someone even buy something like that?]
[That’s nothing, I saw a crazy dude cosplaying a plague doctor the other day lol]
[The fan service is insane lol what the hell was that guy thinking]
[Looks like being a attention-seeker needs timing too.]
The comments were a chaotic mix of reactions from people saying they wouldn’t ever want to see such madness and those saying they had seen even crazier people.
Even so, that gas mask was pushing it too far.
The plague doctor’s crow mask was undoubtedly insane.
“Hey kids, put your phones away and hold out your hands.”
In this age of great plague, a new routine was added to our advisory hour.
The teacher moved between desks with hand sanitizer in hand, dispensing it in dollops.
The jelly-like substance that felt slick slid over my palm, creating a cold sensation.
To prevent the sanitizer from leaking onto the desk, I kept my hands off the desk and rubbed them together near the floor so that any residue would drop there.
The rest of the instructions were predictable.
Don’t pull your masks down below your noses, and if you feel like your body is overheating, let me know immediately.
Wash your hands properly and other instructions.
It seems the parents are particularly anxious about such matters, leading the teachers to become overly cautious.
“Ah-choo!”
Even a single small cough from a child would draw the teachers’ attention.
Especially when the kids, complaining about how suffocating their masks were, would whine, the teachers would threaten to call their parents, making everyone pull their masks back over their noses.
After all, the most effective scare tactic for kids is their parents.
The only time we’re allowed to pull our masks down is during lunchtime.
Today’s lunch consists of white rice with beef bulgogi, soybean paste soup, napa cabbage kimchi, and cucumber salad.
After mixing my rice with the soy sauce oil from the bulgogi, and with a quick mix, my meal is ready in no time.
School lunches have a unique satisfaction that can only be experienced in the cafeteria.
That peculiar sensation of finishing a meal with a precise allocation of food, mixing unsavory side dishes with tasty ones, is quite fulfilling.
Getting a small yogurt as dessert and drinking it all down brings the perfect conclusion to lunch.
The refreshing taste of the yogurt, which feels insufficient, adds to the real pleasure.
If I were to buy a larger yogurt container, it would never taste the same.
“Why are you eating it upside down?”
“Because it’s tastier this way!?”
Some kids insist on tearing the yogurt package open upside down and sucking it out.
There is no actual difference in taste, yet it seems that’s how it feels to them.
Having been a child myself, I can’t exactly judge them as I used to do the same.
‘Come to think of it…’
Didn’t they say there are yogurts made where the lid is intentionally on upside down?
I know of their existence but have never tasted one, so I wouldn’t know.
Anyway, after spending five meaningless hours, I head back home with Shiyeon, who is tightly wearing her mask.
Once we return home as promised, I take out my smartphone from my pocket.
For some reason, there are several missed calls and text messages.
Seeing that the sender has limited visibility, it seems there was something related to Magical Girls they wanted to discuss.
I shift my gaze to the messages I hadn’t seen before.
It seems that since we couldn’t communicate directly, they had opted to send a separate message.
The contents of the message read…
[Due to recent indiscriminate knife attack incidents, we’ve decided that Magical Girls will temporarily support the police. It will only be until the situation calms down. I was going to inform you since it starts from middle schoolers, so you shouldn’t worry… but since you didn’t pick up, I’ll leave a message here.]
In the end, it was news that Magical Girls would also temporarily support the police due to the emergency situation.
Fortunately, it seems that in consideration of mental age, they are recruiting from middle school students and leaving us out of it.
“Sigh.”
I let out a short sigh at the unilateral policies imposed on Magical Girls without their consent.
Still, it was a signal that from now on, after turning into middle schoolers, we could easily be pulled into those kinds of situations.
There’s no need to feel at ease thinking that it won’t happen immediately; it’s a matter that could happen to our future selves someday.
The statement that it would only last until the situation calms down suggests that anytime could serve as a justification to use the excuse of an emergency situation.
From around the time we’re in middle school, it won’t work to brush it off saying we can’t because of our studies, as after stepping away from this scene, there are reasonable benefits.
If we quit now, the Magical Girls who have been brawling with monsters wouldn’t need an interview or anything; they would directly place us in a cozy office job.
So, if there’s nothing else we particularly want to do, it would be a job worth keeping even up until retirement.
After checking all the messages and missed calls on my smartphone, my fingers headed to the internet.
Somehow, the news outlets were lighting up with a spark, unleashing article titles on the new developments.
[Magical Girls fighting monsters lend their strength to the police.]
[‘Wow, they’re real Magical Girls!’ People surge toward the Magical Girls on the street.]
[Civilians gather at the predicted location of the crime, police ‘it’s even more dangerous.’]
[A man who uploaded ‘knife attack warning’ on the internet, in disbelief exclaimed after being arrested, ‘Didn’t the Magical Girls come?]
[Police bewildered by the sudden policy, citizens flocking causes uncontrollable chaos… Criticism of armchair reasoning.]
Even before getting onto the webpage, I could see a single photo clearly.
People flocked to the streets like they were at a fan signing event, desperately searching for the Magical Girls.
This isn’t a fan signing location; it’s a site predicted for a knife attack where the police have gathered due to an article circulating online.
Once again, let me stress, this is a spot predicted for a knife attack.
‘Given the condition, they won’t last long…’
With that article, I finally became convinced.
In a time coinciding with a plague, a mobilization strategy for Magical Girls, who are almost treated like celebrities.
This policy won’t last long.
‘I wonder how many infected will appear from there?’
I estimated it would be dozens, and with a lackluster prediction, I darkened the screen of my smartphone.
The state of the world is a twisted reality.
