Adah couldn’t take either Locke or Sirk’s words at face value. She needed another perspective, that of someone with no dog in the fight at the moment, to learn more about how Region 1 operated. Although Elise filled Adah in on what the Secretaries had discussed behind closed doors, none of those details proved useful for understanding Sirk’s system. Apparently, he was waiting to reveal any secrets to Elise until he felt he could trust her. Adah would need to rely on someone else in the meantime. During the whole drive home from Avepoir, she racked her brain for alternatives, but she always reached the conclusion. There was only one person she could turn to in this situation.
And through a strange coincidence, that person contacted her first.
Adah received a text from Iris the instant she arrived home, which prompted her to peek out all of the agency office’s windows to see if the girl was spying on her. Of course she wasn’t, but the coincidence made Adah shiver all the same. According to her message, Iris also wanted to meet up—urgently. Her text said nothing more than that.
Since she was still itching to get outside and battle, Adah suggested they could take on a mission together. They could talk while they fought a lower-ranked Cruelty, like Adah and Sheffa had done before, but Iris shot that idea down immediately.
“Let’s do karaoke,” Iris suggested instead.
Adah wanted to reject that idea just as quickly, but Iris went on to make a compelling case for her plan. They would have a private room to chat in, and Iris could take as many photos of them hanging out as she liked. Showing their fans they were spending time together somewhere private and casual like karaoke would go a long way toward rehabilitating their reputation as enemies. Plus, Iris thought the location would be particularly useful for Adah’s aspirations.
“You’ll be releasing those songs soon, won’t you?” Iris messaged. “Here’s another opportunity to plant the seed in your fans’ minds. When they see you at karaoke, they’ll think about your music and get excited. I’ll even add a note about how impressed I was with your singing.”
“Do you seriously think this way about everything you do?” Adah replied.
“Look at you,” Iris messaged back, “still pretending you don’t.”
Adah didn’t feel like getting into an argument over something so stupid, so she agreed to Iris’s idea. They made plans to meet up the very next day. Adah was glad to not waste any time.
When they met at the karaoke bar, Iris had her mascot Iosk out by her side as usual, so Izzy materialized of his own accord. Adah might have asked him to anyway. Keeping her mascot out at all times was the rare habit of Iris’s that could be worth mimicking. Like the magically enhanced details of her transformation designs, this was another tool to stand out and show off. A character like Heartbreak should be as proud of her pig as Iris was of her two-tailed cat.
Iris began collecting photos for social media as soon as they met. She insisted they take a couple of photos at the exterior of the building, though she explained that she would normally never give out this kind of “free advertising.” Supporting local businesses seemed to be something Heartbreak would do, however, so she’d make an exception today.
Of course, none of these photos would be posted until the girls returned home, lest some fans swarm the establishment. Meeting fans out and about by happenstance was fine, but it was unwise to broadcast your current location. Magical girls had less to worry about than most celebrities, given they were a transformation away from putting any unruly fans in their place, but they were better off not putting themselves in that position. Who would want to be harassed while they were going about their day, after all?
Once they made their way inside the room they’d reserved, Iris snapped a few more photos, including some of her and Adah sitting shoulder-to-shoulder on the room’s couch. As soon as she’d gotten all the material she needed, Iris slid away to the far end of the couch. Adah had no complaints about her sudden change in demeanor.
“You’ve made some new friends, I’ve heard,” Iris started their conversation, not even bothering with their hangout’s pretense of singing a few songs together.
“After that trip, I think I might understand what you meant by Region 4’s hospitality,” Adah said.
Iris laughed, without any of her usual snark, and said, “I’m sure you had fun in Region 1 as a fan, but it’s a different world for magical girls. Sirk’s rule has only grown more rigid since my time there, and I’m sure it’s made all those around him into even more depraved hyenas. Speaking of unwashed animals, how is Ren?”
“She reminded me a lot of you,” Adah said.
Iris smiled, but let that comment slide.
“It’s not surprising,” she said. “The girl never had anything original to offer. Always copying someone. What is surprising is that she’s made it as far as she has. She got put ahead of me, but even back then the common sentiment among the other members was that she’d fail miserably. And trust me, those girls weren’t saying that out of a fondness for me.”
Adah had to stop Iris there before this discussion went any further.
“You always talk about people being ahead of each other,” she said, “or getting ‘put ahead’ of each other. What does that mean?”
Iris crossed her legs and sighed dramatically, but answered Adah all the same.
“Everything is divided into slots,” she explained. “Television roles, concert venues, modeling gigs—all of it. Only one girl gets to play the lead role in a new show, yes? And television shows don’t appear out of thin air. A big studio needs to endorse filming the show and a big station needs to sign up to broadcast it. All of those details are arranged years in advance. Every major hit is charted out on a timeline five years into the future, maybe longer. That means the people in charge—people like Sirk—know every star role that will be available for at least the next five years.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“You sound like a conspiracy theorist,” Adah said.
“Believe me or don’t, but that’s simply the way it is,” Iris said. “Sure, there are surprises. A show that was meant to be a hit will flop and one that was meant to fill airtime will end up becoming popular, but that’s even rarer than you think. Everything else runs according to the schedule, and that means the industry winds up with a certain number of slots with which to promote magical girls—and boys, I suppose. Let’s say there are three movies that will start filming next year which also include prime roles for magical girls to fill. Call those AAA roles, plus a few less desirable AA roles. Those roles—those slots—get divided up ahead of time between all the magical girls Sirk and his team are interested in promoting. Again, we’re talking a year or more in advance. If a girl who just joined an agency recently, or who otherwise is deemed less deserving, is given one of those slots before a more veteran girl, she’s gotten ahead of her. It is, quite literally, cutting in line.”
“And that’s what happened to you,” Adah said. “Other girls kept getting put ahead of you.”
Iris bit her lip and shut her eyes. Her face slowly morphed into a smile, but she kept her teeth clenched on her lip until she finally spoke again.
“No, Heartbreak,” she said. “I didn’t realize it, but I was never in the line to begin with. Anyway, do you understand now? That’s the way the rest of the country does business. Our quiet corner is different, but only because we have no slots to divvy up. There are no big studios or venues here, so we fight over scraps the old fashioned way.”
Adah nodded. She understood in a general sense, at least.
“Locke had talked about something similar,” she said. “He was saying the only reason his team got popular was because Sirk had put all the right spotlights on them.”
“Of course,” Iris said. “You may find it hard to believe, but I assure you that every opportunity that has ever come that boy’s way has been hand-delivered to him by Sirk. I mean that literally. Not a call from casting director or a magazine editor, but straight from Sirk’s mouth. It’s only natural he’d view the man as omnipotent.”
“It’s strange, though,” Adah said. “Sirk treated me like his enemy, but Locke was so carefree about it. He was joking around with me right after his boss threatened me. It doesn’t make sense.”
“From what I’ve heard, it sounds like Locke simply likes you,” Iris said.
“I’m not interested or available,” Adah said.
Iris made a noise like gagging and said, “You’re so self-absorbed, I honestly want to call this whole day off.”
“Coming from you?”
“I’m saying he likes you as a person,” Iris continued, ignoring Adah’s rebuttal. “He has a positive opinion of you.”
“Why though?” Adah asked.
“Clearly he’s an idiot,” Iris said. “Must be why Sirk decided to make him his golden boy. But in all likelihood, you must be overthinking it. He told you he wanted you to prove him wrong, yes? If you did that, then maybe he could start to feel as though all his FP truly belonged to him. It’s not hard to see why such a thing would be appealing to him.”
That didn’t seem like the real reason for his affection to Adah, though. Locke had acted like her buddy even before their conversation reached that point. In the first place, he didn’t seem to take much issue with Sirk’s system. Was it possible for him to be a decent guy while still accepting that system? If he felt as though he had no choice but to fit into the role Sirk had given him, then perhaps it was.
“I wouldn’t waste your time worrying over him,” Iris continued. “You have enemies in that region who hate you in no uncertain terms. I have ample evidence of that.”
Iris took out her phone and scrolled through it for a moment before turning the screen to face Adah. She had pulled up a group chat between herself and a few names Adah didn’t recognize but, judging by the content of their discussion, she could infer were magical girls from Region 1. None of them had anything pleasant to say about Adah, with the exception of Iris, who hadn’t replied yet as far as Adah could tell.
“There are more,” Iris said, “but it’s all the same. They all want dirt on you, or ideas for how to screw you over. All lovely gossip of that nature.”
“I had a feeling I’d ruffled some feathers, but I didn’t realize I was this popular,” Adah said.
“Indeed,” Iris said. “You’ve been a real inspiration for what’s possible when magical girls put aside their differences. Unfortunately, these girls are coming together for the purpose of doing you harm. Lucky for you, I am inclined to help you instead of them.”
“Help me?” Adah said. “How exactly?”
“I can tell you what I know of these people, and of the games they like to play,” Iris explained. “I’m the closest thing you have to an ally in that region. When you have a question about someone or something, I can be your informant. What I know might help you exploit their weaknesses and avoid their traps. If I play my cards right, they might even think I’m on their side and reveal more to me, like a true double agent.”
“Or you might do the same for them against me,” Adah said.
Iris’s eyes narrowed and her upper lip curled. It was an expression Adah hadn’t seen her make before. Even at her angriest, she’d only ever given Adah icy glares. This caustic scowl was a level above that.
“For what?” Iris asked. “So that they could use me one last time? Don’t misunderstand me, Heartbreak. I have no interest in seeing you fall unless it’s my shoe pushing your face into the dirt. But these fools? However they end up crying, I simply want to count their tears.”
If Iris was talking like that, she must have been serious. In any case, it couldn’t hurt to hear what she had to say about anyone from Region 1 Adah encountered. Nothing would force Adah to follow the girl’s advice. Besides, the hatred that contorted her face wasn’t something even Iris could fake.
“You ought to show your fans how charming you really are,” Adah said. “It worked for me.”
Iris’s scowl shifted to her usual cold look, then she pressed her lips together and popped a kiss to the air in Adah’s direction. Though, she looked more like a wild dog snapping at someone who had gone in to pet her.
The girl’s mascot, the two-tailed cat Iosk, had been lounging atop the back of the couch. He took this break in conversation to stretch out by arching his back, as if announcing his presence to Iris and Adah. The girls looked over their shoulders at the cat, and even Izzy glanced up from his resting spot on the floor.
“Our kind has resolved not to interfere with human affairs,” Iosk said, “but that does not mean we do not have preferences for how your conflicts play out. I believe I speak for many of us when I say that we also wish to see Heartbreak prevail. This system of managing magic is as much a danger to humanity as it is a waste of your kind’s potential. Would you agree, Izrashell?”
Izzy took his time answering. As Adah recalled from the IndieMagie, he was none too fond of Iosk. No doubt their bad blood was the reason the cat had referred to him by that name he sought to distance himself from.
“I believe my reasons for supporting Adah differ from yours in many ways,” Izzy eventually answered. Then, he rested his chin on the ground again and closed his eyes.
Iosk followed suit, tucking his front paws beneath his body as he settled into a resting position once more.
“Nevertheless,” he said, “everyone in this room believes Heartbreak is the way forward. For humans and mascots alike.”
Izzy gave no response, so Adah looked toward Iris. Their eyes met for a moment, but Iris quickly turned away.
The room remained quiet after that.