Origin: How I Became A Magical Girl’s Hapless Sidekick In A Craptastic World

Midori sighed wistfully as held her phone against her head.

 

Her reunion with Natasha was still fresh in her thoughts, so much so that she replayed it over and over, remembering the warmth of the embrace, the joy of being reunited with her kouhai.

 

Although Ikki had gone to bed without incident, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was still amiss. The local Chaos Manifold did not reveal anything out of the ordinary either, when she'd visited his apartment.

 

She felt her chest tighten as she heard someone pick up from the other end.

 

"Konbanwa, otou-san," she whispered.

 

Silence greeted her over the phone as Midori sat on the roof, staring at the rising sun, but she knew he was there. She could hear the tension in her father's breathing.

 

"What do you want?" he finally snapped, his voice thick with a maelstrom of emotions.

 

"I just wanted to check in," she said softly. "Make sure you're okay."

 

"I am fine," he answered. "And you should not be calling me. You know that, my daughter."

 

Midori bit her lip, feeling the sting of rejection. She knew her father was hurting, but it was frustrating how closed off he had become. She could feel her Japanese slipping away with each passing day, and she was sure that her pronunciation and accent had changed drastically since she they last spoke.

 

"I know, but I just wanted to hear your voice," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's been too long."

 

There was a long pause, and the girl wondered if her father had hung up on her. But then, she heard a sigh on the other end of the line.

 

"Midori, why are you doing this?" her father asked, his voice heavy with weariness. "Do you understand the danger you are putting yourself in by talking to me? I am a ghost. Dead and disgraced, as far as Babylon is concerned."

 

"I understand," she said. "But I had to reach out. I can't just sit here and pretend like everything's okay. You're my father, and I love you."

 

Another long silence hung in the air, and Midori could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Finally, her father spoke again.

 

"Listen," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I need you to be cautious, do you understand me? You do not know who is listening. You don not know who might be watching. You must stay safe. I do not care if you possess the Authority of Liminality. You are not invincible, my daughter."

 

"I understand," Midori promised. "I promise I'm being careful."

 

There was a rustling sound, and Midori imagined her father rubbing his forehead in frustration. "How is Talia-chan? Is she eating well these days?"

 

"She's fantastic," she said. "We're both doing well."

 

"Good," her father said. "That's good to hear. But you must be careful. Both of you. The world is a treacherous place."

 

"I know," Midori said. "But we'll be okay. We have each other."

 

There was another pause, and then Midori heard her father's voice again.

 

"That is true," he said, his voice softer now. "You do have each other. And that is just one more reason why you must be careful. For each other's sake."

 

Midori could sense the fear in her father's voice, and she knew that he was right. The world was a dangerous place, especially for those who dared to challenge the status quo.

 

"Father... there is one reason why I called today. It's about Aunt Kiruko."

 

Midori heard her father's breath hitch, and she knew he was listening intently.

 

"What about her?" he asked.

 

Midori paused, uncertain how to broach the subject. She took a deep breath before speaking.

 

"I think she had children when... when she was on Earth," Midori said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I think I might have found her son."

 

There was a long silence on the other end of the line, and Midori could hear her father's breathing become more rapid.

 

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice strained.

 

Midori leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tone. "There's someone at the academy who looks exactly like Momo, one of the underclassmen. He's from Earth, and I suspected it from the moment I saw him." She paused for a moment before continuing. "He told me that he has been dreaming about a woman dressed in a red and white kimono with a jeweled naginata."

 

There was a moment of silence as her father hitched his breath, and then Midori heard her father's begin to breathe again.

 

"That does sounds like Kiruko," he stated, his voice tight and strained. "But it could merely be a coincidence."

 

Midori shook her head, even though her father couldn't see it. "There have been too many coincidences surrounding us," she said. "And I can't ignore this one. I want to find out the truth, Father. I want to know what truly happened to Aunt Kiruko."

 

Her father was silent for a long moment. "I understand your desire, Midori," he finally said, his voice softening. "But be careful. If you start digging into this, you never know what you might uncover. There are secrets buried deep beneath the surface that even I do not know, and some of them are better left alone."

 

Midori bit her lip, feeling a sense of frustration creeping into her. She knew her father was right, but she couldn't help feeling like she needed to know the truth.

 

"I know," she said softly. "But I can't just sit here and wonder. I have to know what happened to her. I owe us that much."

 

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line, and Midori could hear her father rubbing his forehead again. "Very well," he said. "But promise me that you'll be careful. You... you should not use your power more than you need to. We both know the risks. It must remain buried."

 

"I promise," Midori said, her voice firm with determination. "I'll be careful. I won't get in over my head."

 

Her father sighed again, and she could hear the weariness in his voice. "I know you will, Midori. But, you always were stubborn like your mother." His voice trailed off, and Midori imagined him staring off into the distance, lost in thought.

 

"Father, are you okay?" Midori asked, concern creeping into her voice.

 

There was a long pause, and then her father spoke, his voice shaking slightly. "I could lie to you and say I am, Midori," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "But, I likely will never be the same man again."

 

Tears prickled at the corners of Midori's eyes as she listened to her father's words. She knew how much he had lost, and how much he was still losing every day.

 

"I miss you too, Father," she said softly. "I wish we could all be together again. As family."

 

Her father was silent, and Midori could hear his breathing become more steady as he tried to regain his composure.

 

"I do as well, my daughter," he finally said. "But we cannot change the past. We can only try to make a better future."

 

"I understand," Midori said. "And... I'll be careful. I promise."

 

There was a pause, and then her father spoke again, his voice heavy with emotion. "Take care of yourself, Midori. And give a gift to Talia-chan for me. You are the only family I have left. I do not know what I would do if I were to learn that I've lost you too."

 

Midori felt a lump form in her throat as she listened to her father's words. She knew how much he loved them, even if he couldn't show it openly.

 

"I promise you, we'll be okay," Midori said, her voice filled with conviction. "We'll stay safe, and we'll find a way to be together again someday."

 

"I hold my breath for that every day," her father said, his voice quiet. "But until then, be careful. Keep your lumina use to a minimum, and do not forget that I love you, Midori."

 

"I won't forget," Midori said, tears streaming down her face. "I love you too, Father."

 

Midori hung up the phone, her heart heavy with the weight of the conversation. She wiped her tears away and tried to compose herself, taking deep breaths to calm her racing thoughts.

 

Her younger brother Momotarou had perished in the Jo Loon Incident three years ago, and her mother had died in action during the campaign. The day Midori saw Ikki confront Carrie Kong, Midori felt like she'd seen a ghost.

 

Ikki was the spitting image of Momotarou, and Midori had not quite gotten over the grief of losing him. Seeing Ikki had brought all those emotions back to the surface; perhaps she'd even acted too hastily when it came to getting to know him. But, get to know him she did.

 

But now, Midori had a new reason to hope. If Ikki truly was Kiruko's son, then maybe they could find some closure for their family.

 

Midori took a deep breath and wiped away her tears again. She knew that she had to be cautious and not jump to conclusions. There was a lot at stake, and she couldn't afford to make any mistakes.

 

She decided to start her investigation discreetly and carefully. She couldn't risk anyone finding out her intentions, not even Talia. Midori knew her Talia would understand, but she didn't want to put her in danger.

 

Midori took a deep breath and steeled herself for what lay ahead. She had to be careful if she was going to get to the bottom of this mystery and find out who Ikki really was and what he was doing here — for her family's sake, and for her own.

 

And so, with renewed strength and purpose, Midori set out to piece together the puzzle of her broken family.