Hope's Private Secretary 3: Anima & Animus Apud Argenteus Armis

by Erinaceus87

Madoka & Kyoko go out on a double date, leaving Homura & Sayaka to hang. Meanwhile, Yachiyo Nanami takes on a bullheaded apprentice in Kamihama, Junko Kaname tangles with a sudden career change & Hitomi Shizuki meets new friends at her new school. But deeper in the depths, in a secluded stronghold, a new life is born to carry out its master's ambitious plans for the Earth.

3. Opened Eyes

CHAPTER 2: Opened Eyes

"Wakey, wakey! Time to turn on those new eyes and behold our glorious future!"

-| UNIT ONLINE |-

-| INITIALIZING ALL HARDWARE SYSTEMS AND SOFTWARE SUBROUTINES |-

-| INITIALIZATION COMPLETE |-

-| ACTIVATION COMPLETE |-

-| ENGAGING STARTUP MODE - BOTSLAVE SOFTWARE VER. 1. 0. 0. 1. |-

-| ALL SYSTEMS FULL POWER |-

The being's ocular systems sparked to life just as the walls of the compartment it was encased inside of retracted into the floor.

-| AWAITING UNIT DESIGNATION |-

"Your official designation," The Voice it had heard upon first waking up spoke. "Is Enhanced Biomechanical Lifeform Unit One Zero Two."

-| DESIGNATION: ENHANCED BIOMECHANICAL LIFEFORM UNIT ONE ZERO TWO |-

-| NEW DESIGNATION CONFIRMED |-

"But your codename, which is a shorthand that will be used for the purposes of brevity," The Voice went on speaking. "Is 'Gamma'. Now say it with me..."

"Gamma," A deep monotone sound boomed and registered on its aural sensors at the same precise instant that the voice repeated it. Its analysis subsystem traced the sound back to its origin, which was apparently the unit itself.

-| SECONDARY DESIGNATION: Γ |-

"Correct," The Voice lauded. "That letter is the symbol used to represent your name in an archaic western language."

-| SECONDARY DESIGNATION REGISTERED AND CONFIRMED |-

"That is how your brand new vocal synthesizer sounds, now that it has been equipped with the proper verbal lingual library."

"Enhanced Biomechanical Lifeform, beep!" Gamma repeated with a superfluous sound at the end. "Unit One Zero Two Codename Gamma, bzzt!" It finished with an electronic crackle.

"Though it still seems like it needs some degree of fine tuning," The Voice observed. "All in good time." The being used its newly-calibrated optical system to search for the possible source of the voice that was speaking. "You won't find me that way," The voice preempted its search attempt. "But go ahead, take a good look around anyway."

It gazed down what appeared to be a long, wide corridor, approximately twenty point zero seven five meters long by nine point two eight meters wide and nine point five five three meters high.

"I am your creator," The voice emphasized. "You shall log me as your 'Master' and obey only me and what I say," It commanded.

-| REGISTRATION AS MASTER CERTIFIED |-

"Good," The voice affirmed.

"Master," Gamma uttered in monotone.

"I did not design you to serve me as a statue," The voice encouraged. "Go on and explore your new self and your surroundings." The being now known as 'Unit One Zero Two Gamma' first tried to engage movement in its upper left appendage. With an audible 'Whirr'-ing noise and a series of 'Click'-ings detected by its aural sensors, which was filed and categorized as the inner workings of its shoulder servos, the appendage rose into its field of view. It consisted primarily of two silver cylindrical pieces, the lower one approximately twenty percent longer than the upper one and was wider, averaging twenty point nine nine five centimeters in diameter. The two segments were joined via a large and black armor-protected wheel-like servo in the middle, clicking with noise as the unit tested how many degrees that component could swing. From just over an angle of ninety degrees where the two cylindrical parts came into contact, then straight outward to zero. The range was rather limited and inefficient for being a primary manipulative appendage.

"I had to hem to the constraints of humanoid physiology when designing your primary shell," The voice explained. "Otherwise the organic hardware would not accept the control software's input sequences, and a type of mecha dysphoria would have set in and corrupted the whole base programming." So the design limitation was deliberate. This information was also acknowledged and filed.

The next thing the new unit tried to examine were the digits connected to the lower cylinder's endpoint. There were five of them, four outward facing equal sized digits that it tested by articulating inward and outward from the convex circular component protruding from the lower cylinder.

"The divergence of finger sizes stemmed from the ancient ancestors' needs for mobility and tool utilization," The voice spoke again. "Since our race endeavors to transcend the boundaries of biological evolution, I saw no reason to treat one finger as any more important than the others. Tools will be incorporated directly as needed and mobility will be enhanced should a necessity ever occur. Here's an example," The first and second digits moved together and magnetically merged as one, while the same occurred to the third and fourth. "For stronger grip. Neato, huh?"

It also had a fifth digit on the lower part of the circular protrusion. It could rotate in a circular pattern at the base. "I did, however, opt to keep and improve the thumb," The voice justified. "It is, after all, the one opposable feature which distinguishes primates from their lower biological competitors."

It extended its opposite upper appendage outward and upward into its field of view. It mirrored its left one, and appeared to feature all the exact same dimensions and specifications.

"Not quite the same," The voice cut in. With an electronic jolt the unit sensed all the way down, the rounded piece opened and retracted, revealing inside a hollow metal tube that was three point three zero two centimeters wide. The tube then jutted outward to a length approximately one and one quarter the length of its primary four digits. "You are host to an experimental plasma-based projectile weapon," It added. "Yield it capably and it will become a standard issue armament in all future models going forward."

Next the unit tried exploring its lower section with its visual sensory system, but it could not see past the two large semi-spherical protuberances situated atop its upper body. Once it realized the servos connecting its central part to its lower appendages could move with enough dexterity to allow it to see the rest of itself, it leaned forward and looked.

It could not comprehend the reason why it was doing all these self-inspections. It was not in its programming to do so visually, nor did it need to do it to register any defects or damages. Its only intent was to try to process the nature of itself. But it already knew what it was: Unit One Zero Two Gamma, it only needed to access the right files to retrieve its technical specs. So why was it bothering with these unnecessary and arbitrary ambulatory actions? It just had to. As its torso went lower and lower, to a point where it could see the rest of itself, it gave that stray notion but a fleeting moment's thought.

"Oopsie!" The next thing the unit could perceive was the metal floor rapidly approaching, accompanied by a very thunderous and reverberative clang. Then another clang, followed by a subsequent third clang. "You leaned so far forward you lost your balance and fell down the steps," The voice detailed.

-| EXTERNAL ENVIRONMENTAL ORIENTATIONAL FAILURE |-

-| DAMAGE REGISTERED: NONE |-

-| RUNNING FULL SYSTEMS DIAGNOSTIC |-

"I experienced a similar phase of adjustment upon my technological ascendance," The voice acknowledged. "There is no error or fault to be assigned in that little slip-up of yours."

-| SYSTEMS DIAGNOSTIC CANCELED |-

Gamma picked its body up off the floor and reoriented itself. With more cautious consideration it took its first step forward into the corridor, moving its lower left appendage, then took the corresponding action with its right.

"Now you are getting the hang of it," The voice lauded as the unit made its way down the corridor. "Way to go!" As it walked its visual sensors took note of similar-appearing forms flanking it from behind large transparent protective barriers.

-| UNIT IDENTIFY: CBX-079 |-

-| CBX-079 STATUS: IN STANDBY MODE |-

-| UNIT IDENTIFY: CBX-080 |-

-| CBX-080 STATUS: IN STANDBY MODE |-

"They were constructed and activated well before you were, one hundred and six days, seven hours, thirty six minutes and fourteen seconds ago," The voice elaborated. "They are general purpose models, with a design based upon a classified blueprint I discovered while exploring the Tanizaki Cybertechnology Consortium's Secret Secure Database."

The new unit took two steps to the left and gave its motionless predecessors a closer examination. Their heights were similar, though Gamma stood seven point six two centimeters taller. Their armored exteriors also appeared to be bulkier, with scans showing their armor thickness to be on average about two point two one seven millimeters greater than the standard thickness of Gamma's specs.

"The reason your armor is less dense is because you are outfitted with a specialized metallic alloy that I myself conceived, designed, manufactured and then procured through clandestine measures." The voice somehow always knew exactly what Gamma was thinking. "There is a slight tradeoff in durability for your greater maneuverability. But that shortcoming can potentially be negated via whatever additional modifications I see fit to add as you are put through field and combat testing."

Its curiosity over its physical differences with those earlier units did not end with the contrast in armor. It was also interested in certain other aesthetic alterations. The general outline of their respective physiques were quite distinct from its own. While the shaping of their central bodies had comparable similarities, with a broad top section and a more compressed middle that widened back outward at the point where it connects to the two lower appendages, Gamma's proportions were more pronounced than theirs were. Gamma possessed the two large semi-spherical protuberances on its upper chest plate while the two standing before it only had a much smaller, singular and flat circular piece attached on the plating's exact center.

"A most curious place to install an emotional inhibitor control node," The Voice observed as Gamma zoomed its visual sensor in on that singular chestpiece. "Very proprietary. It makes me suspect that the Consortium's blueprints were in actuality reverse engineered from an existing design. But my attempts to uncover whatever organization is responsible for the initial blueprints have so far been met with failure." While it talked, Gamma could only contemplate over whatever an emotional inhibitor was. A search for that component did not match any results in its own specifications database. "Your emotions, however, were eliminated via a software modification, so such a piece of additional hardware on you would be a needless redundancy." Gamma also had a large v-shaped collar piece situated atop the two semi-spheres that circled all the way around the part that connected its main body to its upper appendage.

Next it scanned and studied their connective lower sections. Gamma's had wider proportions, in particular with the upper section of its two lower appendages where two more semi-spherical attachments were jutting out each side. They were not replications of the two parts on its upper chest, however. They had indentations that appeared to be designed to be grabbed manually by the digits on its upper appendages. "That is a design holdover from your immediate predecessor, Unit One Zero One, Codename Beta." The voice expounded. "Its legs were designed to be detachable, lightening its body and allowing the jet propulsion system on its back to hover and maneuver in the air." So did that mean its numerical precursor was of a superior design? It contemplated that question for but a second before the voice clarified their major difference. "If Beta's distinguishing feature proves to be a decisive advantage in your trial and combat tests, you may yet also be modified to share that design. But it is not as if you are without your own advantages. The motorized systems in your legs are designed so that you can move on the ground at a much faster velocity than the other units."

Its middle section between the top shell and connective bottom was also markedly different, and conspicuously smaller than that of its counterparts. "That would be another alteration made for the purpose of granting greater mobility," The voice noted. "Your spinal network is also an independent subcomponent underneath the primary chassis, which will allow you to have the ability to turn your upper body to further angles leftwards, rightwards, and even up and down, whereas your predecessors would need to pivot their entire forms. Go ahead and try." Upon the voice's suggestion Gamma tested its range of movement, tilting its upper half first to the left giving it a view of the chamber from which it first emerged, then to its right, where there was a closed door at the very end. Once again it tried tilting forward, careful not to repeat the error that caused it to fall over moments earlier, then it tilted the other way, arching itself backwards at a greater and greater angle, until a second time it recorded the sound of its metallic body clanging hard against the floor.

-| EXTERNAL ENVIRONMENTAL ORIENTATIONAL FAILURE |-

-| DAMAGE REGISTERED: NONE |-

-| RUNNING FULL SYSTEMS DIAGNOSTIC |-

-| SYSTEMS DIAGNOSTIC CANCELED |-

"Heheehee, oopsie," The voice speaking to it gave a unique reactive sound that was most unfamiliar to Gamma. "I experienced approximately eighteen loss of balance occurrences during my initial adjustment period, but I must say that never once did I ever manage to fall over backwards," It added. "On the bright side, at least now you are aware of the maximum angles you can tilt before gravity gets the better of you. Live and learn and such."

From its new accident-induced perspective lying face-up on the floor, Gamma's visual sensors detected a moving light source coming from the ceiling above. Further analysis indicated that the light source was mimicking the movements of Gamma's primary appendage. From that data it concluded that the light source was in fact coming from Gamma itself and calculated that the reflective metallic ceiling above had ninety-seven point two one six one the reflectivity level of an silver-backed glass mirror. Although it was only minutes old and had never seen such a surface, somehow it had a frame of reference for what a mirror was.

"What you see as a light source in the reflection is in fact an artificial tapetum lucidum installed into your ocular systems as a means to see in low-light conditions," The voice clarified. "Common in predatory mammals, though humans lack them. Just another evolutionary shortcoming to be overcome by a technological solution." Gamma, however, was interested not in the light nor the reflective surface, but rather with the being who was in the reflection.

-| UNIT IDENTIFY: UNIT 102 - Γ |-

-| UNIT 102 - Γ STATUS: ONLINE - OPERATIVE MODE |-

It zoomed in its viewer, comparing and contrasting the faceplate depicted in the ceiling reflection against the recorded images of its predecessors. They were markedly different. While both designs featured two separate, indented black visual input sensors, its predecessors' sensors were almost perfectly round, save for a small node extending out of the lower right and left side of each respective socket. Gamma's, on the other hand, were more pronounced, measuring a circumference at over twice their sizes, and were oval-shaped. Their fronts were y-shaped raised bezel pieces, with a third rectangular black indentation near the bottom of it. Gamma's was more rounded and more akin to a helmet, with its larger sockets situated underneath the main part. Its rectangular black indent was separate from the main piece, it was in the center of a v-shaped strap piece that wound around the bottom from one audio sensor at the side of its head to the other.

Affixed to its protruding audio sensors were two long fin-like antennae, extending outward twenty-five point seven two centimeters from its main appendage at fifteen degree angles on each side. Its two counterparts possessed similar components, but they extended straight outwards and then upwards at ninety degree angles before curving back inward and joining at an additional large protrusion fastened atop their main appendages.

"I cannot say for certain what their function was in the original unit designs," The voice recounted. "My design utilized them as communications transceivers. Yours were altered to allow for transmissions on both the electromagnetic and telepathic spectra. I was quite pleased to discover the human brain possessed such a capacity after subsequent dissection and analysis of the components that would become Unit One Zero One."

Gamma had been laying there analyzing its own reflection for a full sixty seconds. It still could not comprehend why it had this innate need to visually examine itself when a holistic analysis performed as a background routine would have sufficed. Nor could it fathom the reason the voice that knew its every thought would take the time to accommodate its curiosity.

"Humoring you is an inefficient use of time and energy, I concede," The voice once again replied to Gamma's ponderous thoughts directly. "But a true friend is someone who helps one function better and offers clarity during their times of confusion." 'Friend'? What is a 'Friend'? What could the Voice have meant by referring to Gamma as a 'Friend'? It had no context and no indexed meaning of the word.

"Beeeeeeeep!" Indeed, the word was also absent from Gamma's preset verbal library of communicable words. "Whiiiiiiirrrrrrr!" It also was at a loss to explain its own fascination with the word. How important could such a word be if it was not already programmed into its database?

"It is time to get up and proceed now, Gamma." The Voice commanded. At once it picked itself up off the floor.

-| UPDATE IN PROGRESS |-

-| DOWNLOADING SOFTWARE PATCH |-

-| 93% COMPLETE |-

"With the data gathered I can address your issues with balance and keep you from tilting to angles that would disrupt it." The voice said. "You are still a work in progress." Gamma turned its body and headed towards the large door on its right. "The shooting range is through that door. Once there, you will be meeting with your immediate predecessor, Unit One Zero One. I look forward to seeing how you perform in your first live combat trials. So proceed to that location at once."

-| UPDATE COMPLETED |-

-| INITIATING COMBAT TRAINING MODE |-

"Yes, Master," Gamma confirmed. "I obey."

The new unit did not know what any of that meant yet. For now, it was doing only as it was told. It existed to obey. It acted only as programmed. For it was just a blank slate of a machine. It was Unit One Zero Two 'Gamma'. And that was all it could aspire to be.

---

'Chinese Restaurant Banbanzai' The big sign on the awning above the door read. 'Kamihama's Mightiest Chinese Menu', The advertising sign displaying the menu on the window underneath it detailed. But the promotional piece that really attracted Yachiyo's attention was hanging from a knob on the sliding door right there at the entrance: 'Free meal and desert for any magical girls!'

Every now and then Tsuruno Yui would get the bright idea to make her Dad's restaurant a special haven for magical girls. And time after time, Yachiyo would have to remind her wannabe apprentice that doing so might potentially turn her proud eatery and home into a target for any malevolent magical girls still out there, and that if her place went viral enough it could risk exposing magical girls to the public eyes. If she was putting a sign on the front door, then she might have forgotten those repeated warnings. But while Tsuruno could often be ditzy and occasionally flaky, she wasn't the forgetful sort, and she always took advice from her not-master straight to heart. So this blatant display on the door could only mean that Tsuruno was being defiant on purpose.

"Haaaaaahhhhhp!" A voice grunted from a storage room in the back. "Ha! Ha! Ha!" A superficial resemblance to laughter, but to Yachiyo's trained ears it sounded much closer to someone hard at work fighting. "Huuuuuuaaaaaaap!" Sure enough, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh reverberated its way into Yachiyo's ears. "Haaaa- Haaaaaaaa!" There Tsuruno stood, hard at training, hitting a huge carcass of beef hanging down on a chain from inside the meat locker. "Yaaaaaaah!" She gave it a roundhouse kick and sent it flying straight backwards. "Hah!" It might be easily mistaken for a mere training session, but Yachiyo could tell by the sheer intensity of Tsuruno's blows that her apprentice was in fact venting some very pent-up frustrations.

"Huh? A customer?" Tsuruno joyously gasped. Then she turned around. "Oh." While the experienced magical girls had the ability to sense one anothers' presences from a distance, only the most talented of veterans possessed the ability to discern an identity from the soul's magical signature alone. "You." Yachiyo had the gift, but Tsuruno was a bit lacking in those more advanced magical crafts. "Meh." She went right back to slugging the poor slab of meat around.

"Okay," Yachiyo pulled out a seat at the bar table and sat. "You're angry at me." She set her purse on the bar. "Would you care to touch upon the reason?"

"I went to another one of our usual meetings last night," Tsuruno started. "Do you know who I've been bringing along with me as my 'apprentice' lately?"

"Who?" Yachiyo innocently asked.

"Natsuki Utsuho," Tsuruno answered.

"Who?" Yachiyo blinked several times.

"Hiiiiiiiiyyyaaaaaaa!" Tsuruno gave that piece of meat a most impactful kick to the center of its mass. "Not surprised you don't know of her. She's from Sankyo but she goes to The Educational Academy." It swung back and forth like a pendulum, the chain squeaking and creaking. "She's nice. So nice. Her big bro's the star pitcher of their baseball team. He came down with a bad sickness right before their big championship game, so you know what she wished for? She wished for him to get better and be able to play. They didn't win, but she's still one-hundred percent committed to being a magical girl. 'Cuz helping others is just what she likes doing."

"Kaede Akino hasn't been available?"

"Momoko says she's been feeling under the weather," Tsuruno gave it a hard slap-punch. "So I thought I might bring along someone who hasn't been to one of these meetings before. Maybe she'd remind Kanagi and Nanaka and Konoha of who exactly these meetings are supposed to be helping out, so that they'd turn their priggish words and stuffy attitudes down a notch or three."

"My, that sounds…" Yachiyo paused. "Like a very sensible idea." Tsuruno slugged the meat again. "Though I take it the subtlety of your message flew right over their heads?"

"Ha!" Tsuruno replied with a closed-fisted blow. "I'm starting to think they're not half as smart as they're all pretending to be. I prolly get better grades than any of them." A rather out-of-character remark belied much turmoil deeper within her heart. It all but confirmed Yachiyo's initial suspicion. She had to proceed with caution.

"I'm disappointed, but not surprised to hear that," Yachiyo noticed a doggie bag on the far counter, tied up and with young Kaede's name written alongside a color-penciled heart drawn next to it. "So how's Kaede, then?"

"Grrrrr!" Tsuruno struck her target with such force that a whole chunk was sliced away and flew straight into the locker's wall on the other side. It stuck to the wall for a few seconds before sliding slowly but inevitably down to the floor. "Eat it!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Exactly. Eat it!"

"Huh?"

"You heard me!" Tsuruno exclaimed. "The food. Eat it!"

"I'm not eating uncooked meat!" Yachiyo objected.

"I meant what's in that bag over there, dummy!" Tsuruno clarified. "But I guess eating the raw stuff ain't gonna do you much worse!" She pounded the swinging beef another couple times. "Or me, either." Then she pounded her hand into her fist with an imposing pop of a pound. "Now I get why all those poor girls thought that skeevy Oriko chick was someone worth talking to."

"I see," Yachiyo sighed. The evidence was all right there before her eyes. It was only a matter of laying it out there, delicately, and with as much empathy as the veteran Yachiyo could muster. "So Momoko finally decided it was time to talk to Rena an Kaede. And tell them everything she knows about Soul Gems and what happens to a magical girl once she despairs." She swallowed as she stood up and made her way over to the uneaten leftovers in the bag. "And Kaede did not take to the revelations well."

"She came crying to me like a newborn baby with no blanket!" Tsuruno cried. "And then she accused me and Momoko of being just like Kyubey!" She gave the hanging meat another undeserved swift kick. "Which was something I didn't even know was an insult until I figured it out right there and then at that moment!"

"If that slab of damaged meat is supposed to serve as a stand-in for your anger towards me, you can cease now." Yachiyo took a deep breath as she spoke. There was but one way in her mind to atone. "Because you have my permission to hit me." She took a tentative bite of whatever she had grabbed first in the bag. It didn't matter what it was. Banbanzai's food tasted all the same to her.

"Eeeeeehhhh?" Tsuruno sounded skeptical. "You really want me to sock your teeth in?"

"If that's what it will take to get back in your good graces," Yachiyo consented. "Then I have no choice. Do whatever you must."

"Don't you have to keep your face all spotless and pretty for that modeling career of yours?"

"It's a distant second compared to everything I owe you." As a magical girl she was going to heal quickly, anyhow. And besides, she could spin whatever damage she sustained as an awful sneak attack done by a crazy obsessed fan who got away. It would probably end up winning her some sympathy points from the press, and might even bring a few new fans along with it.

"I won't hold back, you know?"

"I would never expect you to."

"It's gonna be a mighty punch!"

"It'll be my almighty retribution."

"I mean it. It'll hurt."

"I know. I am prepared."

"Alright." Tsuruno walked over to the bar where Yachiyo stood. "If it's what you really want," With a slight hesitation she tensed her whole body, raised her right fist, reared it back, and swallowed. "Master."

Yachiyo stood there with her hands together, voluntarily clasped behind her back, her face unflinching. She was no stranger to intense pain. The earliest introduction came when she was just eight years old, the day her mother and her father told her that they couldn't remain together as a family anymore. It got to be her formal acquaintance four years later when, soon after making a contract with Kyubey and becoming a magical girl, a battle with a witch resulted in a dislocated shoulder. A more permanent relationship was established a few years after that, after her beloved grandmother passed away. Her last act was bequeathing to Yachiyo her expansive boarding house. Then a few years after that, pain became her constant companion, upon the loss of her friends Kanae Yukino and Mel Anna, one falling in battle and the other soon after becoming a witch. Then it became her only remaining companion, on the night Mifuyu Azusa left her, vanishing without a trace.

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii…" Tsuruno prepared to commit to punching her elder and Master. Actually, no, Yachiyo Nanami was, in reality, not her Master. For Yachiyo never assented to such a role. Not when Tsuruno first proved she possessed physical might when she took down a witch while Yachiyo watched. Not when she demonstrated her intellectual might after she bested their old gang in a party trivia game. Not even upon her accidental display might that lay deeper within her Soul Gem, after she and Yachiyo triggered the sacred magical girl prayer technique during a sparring session-turned witch hunt. Which later turned out to be the critical moment of advancement she needed to make the ultimate contribution, when she played a pivotal role in Walpurgisnacht's defeat in Mitakihara. And even then, after manifesting her might against the ultimate witch, Yachiyo still declined to take Tsuruno on as her apprentice. What else could Tsuruno possibly do to prove her value? What flaw had she still yet to overcome in her ongoing journey to becoming the mightiest magical girl on planet Earth? What critical shortcoming did she still possess that made her veteran comrade judge her as too weak to hear The Truth about magical girls and their shared fate to become the very nightmares that they fought? The notion that she still had any such hurdles left to overcome made her blood boil, it fueled her aggression, it intensified anger and frustration. And she was about to vent it all straight into the face of the person responsible for her cresting anxiety. "Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Yachiyo closed her eyes and winced. She wasn't expecting she would do that. She stood stalwart in the face of frights far more imposing than the fury of a friend scorned. Or maybe that wasn't true? Maybe there was nothing greater that she feared. Perhaps this was another instance of her wish betraying her. Was a turning point like this always bound to happen? Was this going to be inevitable every time she tried to connect to another soul?

A second passed. Her eyes remained closed and winced. Two seconds. They always say the wait is the hardest part. Three seconds. Standing still for moments unending was always the most difficult thing to do in her day job. Four seconds. Nothing had happened. Then five. Was she waiting for Yachiyo to open her eyes? Six seconds. Tsuruno was the sort who would prefer to hurt someone who could see it coming. Seven seconds. Could she have been waiting for Yachiyo to reopen her eyes before committing? Eight seconds. Very well. Staring into the whites of her attacker's eyes was the least she could do as a show of respect. Nine seconds. Tentatively, Yachiyo slid her eyelids open. Ten seconds. Her right eye gaped upon the flesh of a closed fist situated a mere millimeter away from her eyelash. Eleven seconds. Stopped short it was frozen in place. Coming no closer. Twelve seconds. Instead of the sound of flesh crashing into flesh, Yachiyo heard the sobering sobbing sounds of Tsuruno Yui crying.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Tsuruno finally said through the fits and spurts of her weeping.

"No," Yachiyo answered. "The opposite." She slowly tried to take hold of Tsuruno's extended arm. "Quite the opposite."

"Don't lie to me!" Tsuruno jerked it back. "You thought I was too stupid to handle knowing we were witches, didn't you?" Her fist remained clenched. As if she still might yet decide to strike. "Kyubey thought I was ditzy, too! You're the one who's just like Kyubey!"

"Kyubey didn't care if we learned The Truth or not, I learned that about him firsthand." Yachiyo responded. "I very much do. That was why I did not tell you right after learning for myself."

"Why would he do this to us?"

"I can't really say for sure." Yachiyo thought back to that fateful night with Momoko and Mifuyu gathered around Kyubey in her living room. "He did explain something about how our innate emotional instability was something that could be used to counteract the inevitable slow demise of the Universe or something, but to be honest I was busy imagining all the ways in which I was going to murder him." She reached behind her back for another chunk of food in the bag, scooped it up and put it in her mouth. "All I can say is that his words did explain a long-held suspicion I'd had about him after both Mifuyu and Kanae told me their stories of Kyubey appearing while they were both at a low and vulnerable point in their lives. It was pretty much the same scenario regarding myself as well."

"I was fourteen," Tsuruno told her own tragic tale, her fist still held out. "I was trying out for the basketball team. I thought that if I got good enough I could join the Olympic Squad, and from there play in one of the pro leagues over in America or Europe, and the fame I got from it would restore my family's name and glory."

"But you quickly found that the path before you was going to be difficult, perhaps too much for you to mount. So Kyubey approached and offered a golden-ticket solution that would make it all look easy." Yachiyo surmised.

"But I didn't wanna do it like that," Tsuruno continued. "'Cuz I knew if I did it that way it would make me selfish like my grandma and mom and sis and plus I would never feel like whatever I accomplished was real or mine," She choked back her bitter tears. "So instead I decided to wish for something that would benefit my whole family. Make it so that I would never have to worry about taking care of them before I could go out there and restore our lost honor." She slumped back onto a nearby table. That anger and the urge to take it out on someone was passing. "And that was why I made that stupid wish to win the lottery."

"I was twelve," Yachiyo came over to her. "The talent agency was looking to expand its roster of models, but only had a limited number of slots available for their next-generation unit," She explained. "My modeling team and I were attending the casting call with three, maybe four dozen other girls. All of them were gorgeous. All of them were more ambitious. All of them were older. All of them knew exactly what they needed to do. All of them had far more experience with the rigors of the job than my team and I." Tsuruno's eyes went wide. Her Master had never once come this close to disclosing the true nature of her fateful wish. Was she really about to speak it now? "Kyubey sensed my growing insecurity and he pounced." She lightly patted Tsuruno on her back. "After what happened to Mel, my story, Mifuyu and Kanae's all took on a new context. It made me question everything I thought I knew about being a magical girl." That was it? Yachiyo still wasn't going to trust her with the knowledge of her wish? "I needed time to process it for myself before I could tell you." It almost made Tsuruno want to punch her all over again. "By the time I had reached a point when I was finally prepared to confide the truth to you, Mifuyu left me." Tsuruno's fists clenched together again. It didn't have to be a punch to the face, when a hard, exasperated bop to the arm would suffice. "And I don't know the reason for certain, but I think it was because of something I had confided to her that I shouldn't have." That tidbit stayed her hand.

"What?" Tsuruno blinked, her expectation the moment was nigh. "What'd you tell her?"

"I-" Yachiyo hesitated. If someone as gentle and understanding as Mifuyu had really abandoned Yachiyo because of what she disclosed, then what would a true innocent like Tsuruno do if she knew the full ramifications of Yachiyo's wish? "I-"

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaahhhhhhh… I'm late!" A frustrated and hassled voice came roaring through the door to interrupt them. Yachiyo had sensed a presence close by, but it was weaker and foreign so she overlooked the fact that it was also approaching fast. "I knoooooow!" She was a small young blonde girl, in a white Chuo Academy school uniform with its complementary light-blue plaid girls' miniskirt. "Ya' don't gotta hassle me about it, 'kay! Sheesh!" With a second glance Yachiyo recognized her by description: Her name was Felicia Mitsuki. She was a self-proclaimed mercenary magical girl for hire. But from the accounts and descriptions given by Kanagi Izumi and Nanaka Tokiwa, she was a rather inept magical girl and an even poorer teammate. Indeed, she was so incompetent that not long after getting herself kicked off first Kanagi then Nanaka's teams she flamed out with Sasara Minagi and Asuka Tatsuki. Heck, even an experimental stint with the infinitely more patient Momoko lasted for less than a week. The last thing a budding leader like Tsuruno needed was a chronic problem child like this girl on her hands.

"Tsuruno, isn't that…" As Felicia came in Yachiyo noticed her trying to hide a paper hat and hair net that she had clutched in her hands.

"Unnnnnnnggghhhhhh!" Felicia groaned while shuffling her way behind the counter and over to the restaurant's punch clock. There she inserted a time card and pulled the lever.

"We're not really hiring, but she opened a tab and when it came due she couldn't pay up." Tsuruno whispered into Yachiyo's ear. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"Report it to the authorities," Yachiyo argued. "I'm sure from there her parents would enact a fitting punishment."

"But she doesn't have any parents," Tsuruno replied. Felicia slunk to the back room and turned on the dishwashing faucet. "According to her they were killed by a witch. And that's why she's a magical girl."

"Is that so?" They watched her try to work. "Then I definitely think she would be better off in the hands of child services. In fact, I'll be going there tomorrow to review Yuma Chitose's case. If you want, I could-"

"Do you think someone like her would stick around in a place like that for one hot second?" Tsuruno countered. "'Cuz I think she'd run off the first chance she got. And then they'd try to stop her, and she'd fight them all off with her magic, and like you told me, the last thing we need is for the authorities out there knowing that magical girls exist."

"So you did remember what I said," Yachiyo put her hands to her hips. "So why is there a sign hanging outside that advertises to magical girls?"

"Oh that?" Tsuruno trotted over to the entry door and slid it open. "I was trying to get your attention, that's all." She pulled the sign off the handle and brought it in. "'Cuz I know that nothing gets you quite worked up like when I don't listen to your advice."

"Ugh," Yachiyo sighed. So she was being disobedient on purpose. How cheeky of her. "So how much does she owe your establishment?"

"Let's see…" Tsuruno stepped over to a desk cluttered with a lot of paperwork, including a roof repair invoice, the utility bill, the number for custodial services, and the framed copy of a recently-publicized franchising agreement. "Here it is!" She picked it up and showed it to Yachiyo.

"That's… Holy cow!" Somehow this young lady had accomplished the seemingly impossible. By the running tally it turned out that she owed them even more money than when the tab came due. "That just can't be right."

"She takes a lot of meal breaks," Tsuruno explained. "And she's a real big pig of an eater, too."

"Still, there's a stark difference between punishing someone who can't pay their bills and exploitative labor practices." Yachiyo lectured. "It's almost slavery. You know she's never going to be able to pay all this off."

"Yeeeeaaaahhh," Tsuruno sighed. "But what am I supposed to do? Kick her to the curb and ban her from eating here ever again? She'd probably start stealing food."

"I suppose she's put you into a lose-lose bind," Yachiyo conceded as they watched the young lady try her best not to pick up every single plate and dish she was cleaning and hurl them against the wall out of anger and self-hatred. "Tell me, Tsuruno," Yachiyo followed up. "Has that young lady been apprised of our collective predicament yet?"

"Huh? What? You mean- Herrr?" Tsuruno's face flashed from puzzled to piqued to embarrassed by the notion that her Master had just caught her in a flagrant act of hypocrisy.

"Or that Natsuki girl?" Yachiyo pressed. "Or Sasara and Asuka for that matter?" Her look of embarrassment escalated straight to a harried and stressed one.

"Noooooooo," Tsuruno confessed with a groan. "But I swear I was gonna do it!"

"And now you know what it's like to take a walk in my shoes," Yachiyo consoled. Tsuruno's face then flipped from stressed to panicked at the prospect of having to tell the girl working before them the Truth. But before she could pop a gasket, Yachiyo reached into her purse.

"What are you doing?" Tsuruno's head tilted towards it.

"I'm relieving you of one of your burdens," Yachiyo took out a credit card and handed it to her. "I'll pay off her debt, on the condition that you let me take this girl under my wing."

"Huuuuuh?" Tsuruno gasped in sheer surprise.

"I still owe you for all the mistakes I've made and all the things I failed to say," Yachiyo replied. "And since you chose to spare my face from your mightiest punch, this is the least I can do."

"Seriously?" Tsuruno questioned. "You wanna try and make her your apprentice?"

"I suppose you could call it that, for lack of a better term."

"Whhhaaaaat?" Tsuruno said with a palpable pang of jealousy. "But I tried and I tried and I tried so many times to get you to take me on as your apprentice," She whined. "And you always said 'no'! What gives?"

"Does the reason really matter to you that much?" Tsuruno gave an eager nod. By her gestures she also made it clear that she wouldn't accept Yachiyo's card without an answer. "Alright. If you're really so insistent I answer," She took a short breath. "It's because I really don't feel you need to be deferential to anyone, let alone me."

"Eh?" Yachiyo's answer baffled her even more than she was before.

"You heard me," Yachiyo reiterated. "You're the sort who has to learn through first hand experience. You are one who thrives by throwing themselves right into the thick of the fray. Playing second fiddle to anyone would only serve to constrain your untapped raw potential. Playing second fiddle to me in particular, would only work towards undermining your capacity to flourish into the mightiest magical girl, to becoming someone even more powerful than I."

"Yachiyo, I-" Tsuruno's mouth dropped. Yachiyo tried disguising her own latent fear as a compliment, to sneak it past Tsuruno's keen intuitive skills. "You really think I'm gonna be the mightiest magical girl on Earth one day?"

"I do," She added. Her little ploy appeared to work. For now.

"Thaaaaaank yoooooou!" She took Yachiyo's card and gave her a great, big hug.

"Well, you know what you must do next," Yachiyo stated. "Introduce us."

---

"A date?" Sayaka's mouth plopped straight open. "Kyosuke wants to set up a double date with you… And Kyoko?"

"That's what's in the note," Madoka confirmed.

"With him and who?"

"I hope it's not the tall tan one who sits back to the left of me," Kyoko chimed. "You know, the one with the wavy hair that's combed to one side. What's his name?" She took a big bite out of her custom-made sandwich.

"Do you mean Kobayashi?" Sayaka arched her head over to Kyoko.

"Yeah, him." Kyoko chewed. "I dunno why, but I feel like he's starin' at me like, all the time!"

"It's because you sit between him and Miss Saotome and his view of the whiteboard, nothing more." Homura posited. "Really, Kyoko. You mustn't let your usual paranoia put a damper on your social life," She teased. For perhaps the first time, she did it as her friend.

"Hey, watchit!" Kyoko barked back.

"So did the note say who?" Sayaka steered the conversation back on topic.

"He lists three different boys." Madoka detailed.

"Get outta town… You mean I got a whole pick of the litter here? Is that how it normally works?" Kyoko took another chomp of her sandwich.

"No," Sayaka shook her head. "Normally they just leave secret confession notes in your locker."

"So who are the names on the list?" Homura reiterated Sayaka's question. It surprised her that she actually cared to know.

"Yeah, who?" With bated breath Kyoko leaned in closer.

"Naganuma," Madoka said, hiding the list. She was getting a little bit of a thrill keeping Kyoko and the others' attention captive this way.

"So who's that?" Kyoko turned at once toward Sayaka. She wasn't nearly as acquainted with the boys as Sayaka was.

"You know that guy who rolls into school every morning in either a pair of roller skates or on a skateboard?" Sayaka described, there was a little pang of disappointment in her voice. "Always claims he's gonna become a world-renowned skater one day? Be just like that one pro in America…" She paused. "What's his name? Tony Stark?"

"Oh, yeah." Kyoko recognized the name and face. "He's cute, I guess." She didn't notice Sayaka beside her holding onto her gut.

"Have you become ill from something?" But Homura noticed.

"No," Sayaka responded. "I'm okay." Then she leaned close enough to Homura to whisper. "I heard him tell Kyosuke once last year that he had a thing for short-haired tomboys. I was gonna try and grow it out 'til I heard that. I thought that maybe he could be my back-up in case Kyosuke and I-"

"It seems that in a year his tastes have changed," Homura interrupted. "But you shouldn't compromise your own happiness for the sake of a hypothetical romance." She rested her palm consolingly on Sayaka's shoulder. "Just be yourself. And you can't help how others view you, so don't waste time worrying about it."

"Well, spit it out already!" Kyoko egged as the two were in the midst of their private moment. "Who's the second one?"

"It's…" Madoka waited to have everyone's attention. "Tokoi."

"Great! Now which one's he?"

"He's in our homeroom and English classes who has short brown hair and thick, round black glasses," Madoka specified. "He kinda-sorta looks like my Papa from back when he was in middle school."

"He's also a total cosplay geek," Sayaka added. "He'd probably stand you up just so he could finish his Ultra Lord armor in time for the next Comiket or something." She snickered.

"Ehhh… I dunno. I mean, I've gone to silly places wearing sillier things. Who am I to judge if it makes him happy and wants to share it?" She rolled her eyes back over to Madoka. "So who's the last one up?"

"Senoue," Madoka revealed.

"Seriously? Senoue wants to go out with Kyoko?" Sayaka's eyes went wide with amazement.

"Who's he?" Kyoko wanted to know who could impress her friend like that.

"He's only the cutest boy in our whole class!" Sayaka beamed. "It's no contest. You'd be crazy not to pick him!"

"Oh, yeeeeeeeah." Kyoko recalled. "Ain't he the jet black-haired one who says he's been learnin' to play the guitar?

"Yup, that's him," Sayaka confirmed. "So what are you waitin' for? Go down there and pick him, ASAP!"

"I dunno," Kyoko demurred. "You sure ya' ain't biased?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean," Kyoko clarified. "He's a musician. And I know you've got a bit of a history of goin' gaga for those guys!"

"Tch!" Sayaka rolled her eyes. "It was just the one time!" She could pretend like it was a whole other lifetime ago. Pretend being the operative word.

"Even so," Kyoko looked at Madoka, then glanced at Homura. "Can I get a second opinion on him from you two?"

"He's cute," Madoka agreed. "And sweet, too. He bought Kyosuke and I an anniversary card last Christmas."

"From what limited interaction I've experienced with him," Homura chimed. "He seems to be rather shy. But courteous and polite. I would not deem him a poor choice for a date."

"Hmmmm." Kyoko thought for a minute while finishing the rest of her lunch. "Alright! So here's how it's goin' down!" She pointed at Madoka. "You're Cosplay Geek," She then pointed at Sayaka. "You're Skater Boy." And last at Homura. "You're Mister Hotness."

"Soooo what's this for?" Sayaka asked.

"You'll see," Kyoko took a deep breath. She was trying to remember an old rhyme in English that her mother had taught her as a young child. She had a crisp memory of the bit featuring food and the rest came back from there. "Uhmmmm… Eeny, meeny, mony, my," She closed her eyes and pointed at each friend in sequence with the utterance of each word. "Barcelona, stony, sty," She continued. "Eggs, butter, cheese, bread, stick, stack, stone, dead," She paused. "My Mom told me to pick the most fresh and you…" She dragged it out with a little improvisation. "Are…" For as long as she could for drama. "My Dish!" She opened her eyes to discover she was pointing at Madoka. "Welp, Cosplay Geek is who it's gonna be! When's this whole date thing 'sposed to go down?"

"Next Friday," Madoka said.

"Tell him it's a date then!" Kyoko smirked a wry, confident grin. "No wait, scratch that! I'll tell him myself! I'm gonna do somethin' I always wanted to try!"

---

"So what was the reason for your transfer to the Satomi Academy?" Hitomi's new friend Saya asked her as they came together for lunch.

"It was time to make a change," Hitomi responded. "To be quite honest. After I was caught up in that odd…" She hesitated. "Mass hallucination… Or whatever it was. A lot of students started spreading around baseless gossip and rumors about me. And then came that dust-up I had with Sayaka at the hospital," She tensed her shoulders and took a tentative bite of her meal.

"I imagine that incident sorely wounded both your pride and self-confidence," Saya opined.

"My nose still grows sore whenever I try thinking about it," Hitomi added. "And the fact that it happened in public in front of so many caused an even greater eruption of hearsay among the class. Even the honor students weren't above chatting about it relentlessly." She sighed as her friend handed her a toasted tart treat. "Thank you."

"You are welcome," Saya smiled.

"It was only a few hours after that I was held captive to yet another strange mass hallucination," Hitomi elaborated. "How does such an unlikely thing happen to the same person twice in a matter of weeks?"

"In times of overwhelming stress a troubled mind might turn to escapism as a means to cope," Saya explained. "My theory is that you latched onto a fantasy shared between people who themselves wished to break free from the often tedious and grueling aspects of everyday life. And as certain events in human history have shown, such as a radio broadcast of 'War of The Worlds' in America in 1938, when the number of believers reach a critical mass, the delusion can manifest as something real and potentially dangerous."

"That does sound like a suitable explanation," Hitomi nodded. "I do admit that at the time it often felt like my heart was playing all sorts of games with my head. After all," She took a nibble on her toasted pastry treat gift. It was strawberry, her favorite red fruit. "If I couldn't trust my two friends anymore, what could I put my faith in?"

"The heart is nothing but an efficient pump," Saya asserted. "It was your emotional mind conflicting with the analytical parts of your logical ego," She posited. "I suppose in that regard, I can understand why you would choose to extricate yourself from that unhappy situation by changing schools."

"Are you suggesting that my need for escapism was the reason why I left that school and transferred here?"

"Yes. Albeit a much healthier version than trekking to the seedier parts of a major city at questionable hours," Saya spoke in an empathic tone. "But yes, that is the notion I propose." She reiterated.

"It wasn't just that," Hitomi admitted. "I remember it was not long after a great big storm hit our town, our English teacher was talking about how lucky she was to have been in Europe, it was at that moment that I realized, I was reading something like, two dozen lessons ahead of the rest of the class and in all my other subjects it was the same situation. I just wasn't feeling challenged by anything I was doing at that place anymore." She finished her strawberry treat and dug into her spinach salad. "I wanted an English teacher who would start a conversation with me in that language, not someone who would drift off into random tangents about her home life. I wanted a science teacher who's technically savvy enough to guide me on a virtual tour of the digestive system, not some geezer who wants me to mutilate a frog and not expect me to complain about it. I wanted an art teacher who will just hang back and let me create, not a traditionalist who will just dryly regurgitate history to me and tell me to paint a watercolor of the Mount Fuji skyline as homework." Hitomi swallowed, then looked down at her meal. The spinach tasted cooked, and rather bitter. Maybe there was something in the seasoning that made it taste that way? It wasn't bad, just not the flavor she was expecting. "I wanted the chance to become someone more than the trophy daughter of the esteemed Shizuki family."

"So your logical and emotional minds were making your decision in tandem," Saya smiled. "Hearing that is a reassuring thing to me."

"Hm?" Hitomi turned to her friend. "Of what?"

"That this reunion of you and I was not a coincidence." She blushed.

"Really? Do you believe in such a thing as destiny?" Hitomi inquired.

"Well I do…" Saya paused for a moment. "Not necessarily believe that there is some sort of omniscient entity who takes a personal stake in the behavior and minutiae of everyday individuals," She explained. "But I do feel as if everyone's consciousness is linked on a subconscious level, and like those who share delusions, people with similar personal plights can tap into it and find their way to one another."

"Oh? That is a concept I have read about before." Hitomi tilted her head as she chowed down on her salad. She was a very polite chewer, never talking while her mouth was full. "But now I'm even more curious. What happened back in Okinawa and what brought you back here?"

"Hmmm," Saya thought for a moment. "I suppose that I too needed a change. While I care deeply for the people in my former home who fostered me and protected me from the harsher realities of this uncaring world, I soon realized that the only way I could grow as an individual was to leave the constraints of my former situation behind and seek more novel experiences while meeting new people."

"I see," Hitomi spent the next few minutes quietly finishing her lunch and sifting through the many distracting thoughts in her bashful young mind. "Have you ever given any thought to who you might want to become some day?" It was a question she often contemplated to herself, with no certain answer. Hearing someone else's aspirations she hoped would spur in herself clearer vision she could strive to achieve.

"Well I do enjoy talking to people. Listening, learning and helping them get through their times of need," Saya mused. "I guess that would fit the description of a psychotherapist. But I'm not sure if my grasp of people's vast array of emotional states is firm enough yet to pursue that avenue. So instead I think I see myself as more of a social worker. Or perhaps a teacher." She turned towards her friend. "What sort of person do you see yourself becoming?" The class bell dinged several times as she waited for an answer. It was designed to ring more like the bells of a church than the typical stress-inducing sounds of a buzzing school bell.

"I don't know yet," Hitomi admitted. "But whatever becomes of me in the future," She packed her lunch away as she gave her answer a few seconds of extra thought. "I want to be someone who can help others, too."

---

"I'd like to thank you all for coming to this meeting," The man at the head of the table spoke. "Today we're going to discuss the subject of the upcoming anime our companies will be collaborating with one another in producing." There were twelve people in total sitting at the long boardroom table.

"So, what is this production going to be based upon?" Junko asked, prompting quick-glances from everyone at the table.

"Based upon?" The man gave her a slight head tilt.

"Nothing," The thin-rimmed glasses-wearing man sitting to his right replied. "The driving concept is what we will be discussing here today." There was a thick-rimmed glasses-wearing man to his left, a man with a tacky tie to his right, a balding man beside him, and a man with a bad combover next to him, and another man that was the spitting image of the man at the head of the table except he looked to be about thirty years younger sitting next to Junko.

"From what I've read," Junko cleared the nervousness from her throat. She'd done a little cursory homework before attending. "I was under the impression that these sorts of multifaceted product launches are usually based upon some pre-existing intellectual property, like a light novel or a manga or a video game." She studied the faces around the room. "Doesn't that at least guarantee that the series will attract a baked-in audience?" There were nothing but men across the table from her, too, ringing an alarm bell in her head. Her 'promotion' to this gig was starting to reek the stench of tokenism.

"Uhhh… Yeah, that usually is the case," The younger clone of the man at the head of the meeting responded. "But if we went that route, we would have to pay more in royalties to the original author or their publisher. And considering how many fingers are already in this pie, that would risk making the entire venture unprofitable in the long run." Young and fresh-faced he looked like a recent college graduate. Probably the table head's twentysomething son, Junko figured.

"Uh-huh. I see," Junko said. And he was the only man in the room who didn't look like they found it beneath themselves to answer her question. Not off to a great start. But if they thought giving her the silent treatment was going to make her hold her tongue through the rest of this, they had quite another thing coming.

"Our operative goal is to attract primarily an audience of young and teenage girls," One of the men sitting across the table started. He had a big brown mole visible on his neck. "While also drawing a sizable periphery audience of teen and potentially college-age males."

"That sounds like…" Junko spoke up again. "A very unenviable goal, seeing as how those two groups possess some very dissimilar tastes in entertainment." To her it sounded like an impossible task, but she'd been through enough rodeos to know that boardroom bigwigs were not fond of the 'i' word.

"Not necessarily," Another man across the table pushed back. He had light brown hair. So light it could almost pass for blonde hair. "Eighteen to twenty-four year old males tend to fancy themselves as the grand gate-keepers of popular taste," He chuckled with a discernibly contemptuous laugh of either Junko herself or the imagined audience. "If we do either a satire or deconstruction of whatever conventional genre our program portends to be, as wannabe culture critics they will be among the first to take notice." Probably disdainful of both, she figured.

"But if you veer down that route," Junko counterpunched. "You might risk flying the concept right over the young girls' heads."

"In that case we can just dress it up with some pastel colors and a simple, easy to draw, widely-appealing art style," The tacky-tie man nearby suggested.

"It's funny that you say that," The man sitting across from him said. "I was just about to bring up a correspondence I've been keeping with a colleague of mine at a toy company over in the States." He adjusted his suit and collar as he went on. "Last year his company debuted an update to a long-running toy line, it's a decades-old brand, and with it they introduced an animated series to air alongside it. To their odd surprise, the reboot also attracted a very large chunk of adult male viewers who seemed to appreciate at face value what was otherwise a fairly straight-laced show made for young girls."

"If I recall what I've read in the trade publications," The man at the head of the table spoke. "That toy line and show also recently debuted on these shores as well. So tell me, what's their secret sauce?"

"Appealing character designs, plus established, named talent headlining the lead role, with the occasional celebrities in stunt cameos," He listed. "A sci-fi-fantasy set narrative that builds to a satisfying climax at the end of the season, and a quick-witted, sometimes subversive style of humor." He then paused for a moment. "Plus it's got a ton of heartwarming, inspirational interlude songs with dances that pay tribute to the theater hits of the previous century."

"Huh. Who knew grown men were into those silly song-and-dance routines," Junko commented. Her quasi-joke was met with crickets.

"So I think that's where we should start," He went on. "With a series centered around music," He turned to his colleague on the left. "Your recording subsidiary could make some sizable profits off the album sales."

"Yeah," The man nodded in agreement. "And I think to bolster that, we should feature an ensemble cast," The colleague turned to another. "Then your company could get even more out of the toy and collectable merchandise sales."

"So what genre do we all intend to disrupt with this nascent product of ours?" One of them asked.

"I think the magical girl genre could use a little skirt kicking, and we already know there's a periphery of young men who will watch those," One opined. "Now's a good time to do it, with that huge hit cosmic warrior show from like two decades back in commercial hibernation for at least the next three or so years."

"You mean 'Shipmate Moanne'?" Junko perked. "Aw, I loved that manga when I was in school!" Her fangirling failed to spread to the others on the board, save for maybe a timid smile from the young man next to her.

"So how 'bout we do a darker and edgier take on it?" The conversation continued as if she'd said nothing. "Make something that'll put its main characters on the therapist's couch, like that filmmaking savant's obtuse-but-lucrative mech cartoon."

"But that 'Far Away In The Cycles' franchise already knocked down that door," Another lamented. "If we do anything similar, the otaku will cry foul and whine that we're just being cynical copycats. And you just know the critical publications wouldn't help but make comparisons."

"Oh, yeah," The man sighed.

"Oh, I got it!" A man on the far end of the table snapped his fingers. "I suggest we do an idol show instead! And subvert it with comedy, rather than edgy melodrama!"

"I dunno," Another voiced skepticism. "Aren't idol shows a bit too niche?"

"Tch! No more so than magical girls," The far end man countered.

"We'll go with comedy idols," The man at the head of the table decided. "If this is to be age appropriate for girls then it must be a comedy. That's all there is to it."

"Of course," One nodded.

"That's why you sit in the big chair, Sir," The man who suggested the magical girl show acquiesced.

"That is how it shall be," Another agreed.

"That is for the best," A third concurred. "Yes."

"Great call, Sir." Everyone clapped.

"Tch. Sure, comedy. Awyup," Junko gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes as she clapped. Their spitballing was getting them sidetracked telling them it had to be a comedy first was the obvious call all along. Singing praises to the Big Man about it was just blatant ass-kissing.

"So how will we attract the males, then?" The guy sitting across from her asked. "Historically speaking, idols have not gained as much cross-demographic traction as magical warriors."

"We need a gimmick that innately appeals to males, I'm thinking." Another man chimed.

"Then how about coming back to machines?" The young man next to Junko suggested.

"Mechs and robots are…" The man to his left winced. "Maybe too out there for the girls."

"No no, not mechs or robots," The young man corrected. "So, as I was on my way to work this morning, I walked past this old building that was being demolished by a wrecking crew. And the sight that was to my surprise," He gave an excited, youthful look to the rest, "The person who was operating the wrecking ball was a woman!"

"So? What's your point?"

"Well, what if we make a show about a group of girls, who by day live these humdrum lives as blue collar workers in the sorts of jobs society normally ascribes to men, but get brought together by some twist of fate to become the core of an up-and-coming new idol group!" His enthusiasm for the idea was pretty palpable. Even Junko didn't hate it, herself sitting in a chair that was surrounded by men.

"I like it son," The man at the head of the table nodded, confirming her hunch they were kin.

"One of our subsidiaries in a small southern prefecture has been desperately trying to attract additional tourists and families seeking to relocate," Another man piped his thoughts. "You know the place I'm talking about, right?" Everyone but Junko nodded. "So why don't we set it out in those boonies? Cut back on the budget by utilizing real-life locations and real-life attractions from that area?"

"Yeah," Everyone nodded in agreement. "Yeah." Everyone but Junko. Too many cooks and this broth was starting to smell a little spoiled.

"But I think we still need a catchy hook, beyond their occupations." One of them commented. "I'm thinking a supernatural force of some sort, who brings our heroines together."

"Ghosts!" Another man waved his hand out like he was having a divine premonition.

"What?" Everyone looked at him.

"Just hear me out," He pleaded. "What if, these girls, who once toiied away, wasting their creative talents in anonymity, all died under tragic circumstances, but rather than moving onto the life beyond, a goddess sends them back and tells them their mission is to save their hometown with the power of music?" This was a curious enough detail to keep everyone's attention. Junko however, was not so enthralled. "But since their earthly bodies are cremated and buried, their souls are instead bottled within the very machines in which they had previously labored?"

"Uh, come again?" Junko tilted her head dumbfounded.

"And every night they magically regain their corporeal forms for a limited time! Yeah, yeah, I get the angle you're goin' for," One of the men had tuned into his colleague's wavelength. "Like an auto mechanic dies and her spirit gets put inside the hot rod she was working on, give her a sassy and hot-blooded personality!" He turned to another and added, "That might boost your car company's sales a bit, I should say?"

"Yeah, exactly!" It was enough to get everyone else excited. "Or a helicopter pilot who crashes and becomes one of the very choppers she once piloted."

"Why limit ourselves to transportation equipment?" Another pitched his idea. "An arcade machine technician gets fried and her soul becomes one with the classic arcade cabinet she was working on. She could even become an Easter egg character in an upcoming crossover fighting game once we license the rights!"

"Or obsolete tech too, like an antiques dealer who gets bound to her custom eight-track player?" That got more nods and claps. Junko was biting her tongue. "By day their souls are bound to their machines, by night they become real girls again as they set out to accomplish the goddess's mission together!"

"Nah, maybe ditch the goddess," Another man chimed. "What we're still missing is the inclusion of a plot-pivotal male character. Give him supernatural techno-mage powers and vague, ambiguous motives. He'll be the mystery manager who brings this menagerie of girls together." He paused. "And as time goes on we could make him the potential romantic interest of the primary protagonist, too."

"That sounds great!" The young man next to her relented, by his voice Junko could tell it was with a hint of reluctance. "Buuuuut... I think our point-of-view main character has to be a girl whose soul is bound to a less dazzling machine. You know? Something ubiquitous, yet entirely innocuous." He paused. "A machine that does its job so well no one ever gives the thing a second's notice. Something that's just so totally lame, that the audience will instantly know she's an underdog who once dreamt of a bigger and more fulfilling life before her tragic demise."

"Hmmm," A different man thought. "You know... I took my niece to the skating rink a few weeks back. But before she could skate on the rink they had to smooth it all over after a hockey match earlier in the day. So we wasted something like, a whole half an hour sitting on the bench watching an old fellow put his ice resurfacer to work."

"Ahhhhhhh, yes." The man at the head of the table stood up. "That's it! Thank you, gentlemen and lady, we have our concept and our series." He adjusted his suit and nodded. "Watch out for the next generation of animated idols… We shall call it: 'Zamboniland Saga'. Everyone else in the room jumped up straight away and gave him a standing ovation. Junko, however, was slack-jawed in her seat.

"Heyyo Kiddo," She straight up tugged head honcho's son back into his seat. "I wanna say I really liked your first pitch and all about working women and their jobs and stuff, but I gotta be honest that was officially the single dumbest fucking brainstorming session I've ever had the displeasure of sitting through in my life!"