Chapter 2: The Ever-Positive Angel Is in Charge of the Magical Girl's Mental Care

Magical Girl Black (Mental)

“Haah…”

I stood for a long time in front of the tightly shut door, then let out a sigh.

No matter how many times I asked them to open it, they wouldn’t.

Well, I guess that’s fair.

I mean, imagine waking up, opening your front door, and finding some winged nutcase saying they’re an angel and want to have a chat—

Who in their right mind would say, “Sure, come in”?

Even I would’ve slammed the door in their face, saying I don’t accept religious solicitations.

But still, this is really unfair.

These wings aren’t fake, they’re real, damn it…

It’s not like I wanted to have these things stuck on me either…

“…How did it come to this…”

In the end, I just crouched beside the door that wouldn’t open and started thinking back to how all this began.

***

Magical girls.

They’re those who protect love, hope, and justice.

I’ve always loved magical girls.

Magical girls who, even when hurt or on the verge of collapse in the face of overwhelming evil, never yield or break, but push forward with their own will.

Magical girls who, even when everyone turns their back and throws stones, smile brightly and speak of love.

Magical girls who, even in the face of endless despair, cry out for hope and shine from the very front line.

Cheesy attack names, embarrassing transformation sequences, cringy friendship moments—

That’s exactly why I loved them.

How should I put it… yeah. It’s romantic.

Even when they cry in the shadows, saying they’re tired and they don’t want to fight anymore, they still grip their weapons, because if they don’t, someone else might get hurt.

Even after losing someone precious, they let them go with tears, not driven by hatred, but by the will that person left behind.

They fall, they bleed, they break—

But they get back up and fight again, and in the end, they win.

That’s humanity at its best.

Yeah, I love stories that celebrate humanity.

Which is why I hate stories that only deal in despair and sorrow.

Of course, I won’t go around trashing people for liking those kinds of stories.

Everyone has their own taste.

Some people prefer “finding happiness within suffering” over “happiness comes after the struggle.”

But not me.

To me, happiness must always come at the end of suffering.

Endless suffering isn’t suffering. It’s just wrong.

That’s why, when I read this work, I thought:

‘You fucking piece of shit author. How the hell is a magical girl killing herself because she can’t handle her emotions? Is it supposed to be a hopeful story?’

That’s not hope. That’s something pretending to wear hope’s face.

Why the hell would you do this?

Magical girls are symbols of hope. They’re not supposed to be icons of despair.

That’s just basic logic.

If at least you had slapped on tags like “regret,” “despair,” or “psychological trauma” from the start, I’d get it—

But no, this bastard sticks “celebration of humanity” on it and then pulls this crap?

Where the hell is the humanity in this? And what? A magical girl, broken by unrecognized suffering, turns into a villain?

You asshole, then just don’t write it like that!

So what, you blew up the cast, tangled the plot into a mess, couldn’t handle it anymore, and your brilliant solution is to torture one perfectly fine girl until she kills herself? That’s the best you could come up with, you bastard?

Couldn’t you have just, like, given her some headpats? How badly did you have to abuse her for a completely normal kid to break down like that, you son of a bitch?

Everything was going fine, so why did you suddenly flip the whole damn board?

Why? Really, why? I don’t get it. Why?

No seriously, where the hell did the “love and hope” go, you psychotic excuse of an author?

How is tormenting a girl until she loses her mind supposed to be love and hope?

Isn’t this basically magical girl disqualification? And you, aren’t you disqualified as a writer?

Why do you treat the characters you created like disposable trash?

And |... |... |...

I stared at the blinking cursor and rubbed my chin.

“Anything else I can write?”

More seriously than I’ve ever been while writing an actual story, I slowly read through the 5,700-character rant I’d written.

Hm. Doesn’t really look like anything needs fixing.

All that’s left is the part that begins:

“Dear Author, let me explain just how royally fucked your story structure is—”

And the part that begins:

“Dear Author, why the everloving fuck did you butcher your own character’s personality like that—”

I figure I’ll finish the rest in maybe two more hours, so… should I grab something to eat first?

I’ve been staring holes into the monitor for three hours now.

My eyes are killing me.

“Ngghhh…!!”

Stretching my arms and legs, I let out a long groan and started to stand up—

But then—

[You sure say some interesting things.]

A crackling voice echoed from my speaker, and a shiver ran down my spine.

Because that speaker? It broke three months ago. I only kept it around as decoration.

[I’ve heard everything you wanted to say.]

No, more than that—there wasn’t even any power going to it.

It shouldn’t have made a sound in the first place.

[If you love magical girls so much, then you go take care of them yourself.]

After that, the room was filled with blinding white light.

I squeezed my eyes shut—then opened them again—

And ended up like this.

With snow-white hair, pure white wings, and a halo floating above my head.

I didn’t turn into some magical girl who looks angelic—

I literally became an angel.

I let out a long, heavy sigh and lazily waved my hand.

A translucent window popped up in front of me.

[Race: Angel]

[Gender: None]

[Rank: Seraph (שרף)]

[Trait: Polite Speech (No bad words allowed! Angels are always kind and gentle to everyone!)]

[Ability: Infinite Love (Your love will never run dry!)]

[Height: 147 cm (fixed)]

[Weight: 47 kg (fixed)]

[You are an angel! Please heal the wounded hearts of magical girls who bring love and hope to humanity! All the abilities needed for this task have been granted to you!]

At a glance, it looked like a status window, but in reality, it was just a fancy instruction manual.

You’ll be living in this body from now on—That’s basically what it was trying to say.

‘Fixed height and weight, huh…’

So I’m really stuck with this height for the rest of my life?

Also, what the hell is “Infinite Love” even supposed to mean?

Is that really a power? Can you even call that a power?

It felt off, but I mean, if they’re calling it an ability, what can I do? I just have to accept it…

‘I wish I could just solve the problem myself.’

This crazy author must’ve known I’d try something like “I’ll handle it! Arc 3 complete!”

So they slapped on a bunch of rules to stop me.

[You are an angel! A noble being cannot interfere in human affairs!]

[You are an angel! A noble being cannot be injured or die! (But you still have physical sensations, so please be careful!)]

[An angel who forgets their role will Fall from Grace! (It hurts a lot!)]

Looking at it like this, it really does feel like a GM character made to admin a server or something.

And now that GM is me.

“They could’ve at least made me a magical girl too…”

I leaned my head against the wall and let out a long sigh.

“So… what now…”

In the original story, the first one whose mental state shattered was Magical Girl Black.

Among readers, people even joked that it wasn’t “Black” as in her name, but “Blackout” as in her mental state completely shutting down.

That’s why I came to her first…

But I can’t even talk to her, let alone have a proper conversation.

Well… Considering everything Yoo Seo-ah went through, I guess that can’t be helped.

“At this rate, I can’t do anything…”

All I could do now was sit by the door, sighing deeply over and over.

I was crouched by the door, toes wiggling aimlessly, sighing for the nth time when suddenly—

Click—…

I heard the door unlocking and snapped my head around.

Of course, the one opening the door was Magical Girl Black—Yoo Seo-ah.

“Ah.”

She looked at me with an expression that said “You’re still here?”, then started to close the door again, so I instinctively stuck my foot in.

“W-wait! I’m not a suspicious person! Just give me a moment to expla—!”

“I don’t know who you are… but just leave me alone and go away…”

Maybe it’s because she’s not just a magical girl, but a magical girl (physically speaking)?

It didn’t feel like I stuck my foot in a door, it felt like I jammed it into a goddamn bear trap.

“Ow ow ow!! Please don’t try to force the door closed, just hear me out for a sec…!! Ow ow ow! I mean it, it really hurts!”

“Ugh…”

Maybe it was the word hurt that made her react, because the door opened slightly.

That was my chance to slip inside, but my foot hurt so much that I reflexively pulled it back.

Now that the obstacle keeping the door from closing was gone, what do you think happened?

Yeah, no need to even say it.

“…Serves you right.”

Slam!!

The door shut tight again.

I looked down at the foot that had been caught.

Apparently it was true that I couldn’t get hurt or die.

There wasn’t a single mark. If anyone saw me, they’d think nothing had happened.

“Ow…”

But then why the hell is the pain still there?

Seriously, this is cruel.

“…Anyway, this is a problem.”

I need to at least talk to her, or nothing can even begin—and here I am, stuck before the starting line.

While I gently rubbed my small, aching foot, trying to think of what to do until the pain faded…

[Please heal the wounded hearts of magical girls! All the abilities needed for this task have been granted to you!]

…Maybe…

Just maybe, there is one possible method?

***

Cigarettes.

I want a cigarette.

If I stay mentally alert, I can’t sleep.

Smoking doesn’t actually change anything, but at least while I have my eyes closed, I can shut off my brain for a bit.

[It hurts… it hurts…]

[I don’t want to die! I hate being in pain!!]

[I can’t see…! My eyes…! What happened to my eyes…!!]

If I could just block out that constant noise…

That’s why I need to smoke.

For me. For my mental health.

I stared at my trembling hands and let out a deep sigh.

‘Yeah. Just ignore it.’

Who cares who’s outside? It’s not my problem.

A lunatic who thinks she’s an angel? My cigarettes are more important.

Resolving myself, I stood by the front door, ready to head to the convenience store when—

Swosh――…

“Ah. Hello! Since you wouldn’t open the door, I let myself in. Do you have a moment?”

The angel who’d been standing outside casually phased through the door.

Literally. She came straight through the tightly shut door.

“…What the hell.”

So now it’s not just voices, I’m seeing full-blown hallucinations too?

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