The day after Licorice was killed, Tsuneishi met with Sato at his
Tokyo mansion.  Built on the site of a prewar shrine, the house stood in
the center of a beautiful stand of grassy woods incalculable in value
Tsuneishi loved the house, but had always felt a superstitious dread that
the _Kami_ -- the gods and spirits of Shinto -- would someday take back the
site and drive him out.  Impossible, of course, he would have said once,
but with magical girls now walking the narrow streets of Tokyo it was
growing much harder to say exactly what was impossible, and the thought sat
in his mind much less quietly than in the past.
	Sato's report on the Licorice hit was another thing that did not
sit in his mind quietly.  Although the girl called Missy had performed her
task successfully, she had wasted an inordinate amount of time dithering
about beforehand.  Tsuneishi thought this showed a certain unreliability in
her character, but Sato defended the girl, saying she was merely
experiencing difficulty in adjusting to her role.  A gust of wind rustled
throught the trees and Tsuneishi shivered.  He wanted nothing to do with
magic girls.
	The Four are doing the most serious damage," he said.  "They should
be next on your agenda.  Licorice was essentially harmless -- a nuisance at
worst.  Your girl's been blooded; she should be ready.  It's time you set
her to something useful."
	"She may not be ready for the Four," Sato replied.  "One-on-one,
yes, but not together.  They're never apart, and their teamwork is
admirable."
	Make her ready," said Tsuneishi.  Arrange it soon."

	Michie came into class just before the late bell rang.  Mr.
Muramoto, her teacher,  frowned at her and gestured for her to take her
seat.  Michie bowed her head apologetically and moved down the third aisle
toward her assigned place.  But there was no empty seat.  Michie stopped,
thinking she had walked down the wrong aisle, but then she saw the
left-handed desk she had asked for.  Some strange girl was sitting in her
seat.
	"Take your seat, Michie-chan," ordered the teacher.
	"Sensei, someone's taken my seat."
	"Don't make trouble, Michie-chan.  You're late as it is."
	The girl raised her head, and Michie felt a cold wave of fear as
she recognized her.  It was the girl from the store.  Licorice.
	The girl she had killed.
	The girl gazed calmly at Michie, bloody scraped across her cheek
and jaw, flesh partly torn away.  Michie stood rooted and speechless.
	"Take your seat," the teacher ordered again.
	Instead, Michie passed out.

				  *   *   *

				MISSY FOXGLOVE
				      By
				David Homerick.

				  Episode #2
			  "The Portrait of Her Fear"

				  *   *   *

	The school nurse was puzzled and concerned, and asked questions
which Michie answered vaguely.  Her parents were dead, and she had a
guardian, who probably wasn't home right now, and she had taken faint
because she had, er, missed breakfast.  Could she go, please?
	You mustn't miss breakfast, the nurse told her.  It's the most
important meal of the day.
	The girl had followed her to the nurse's office, walking a few
steps behind, and when Michie left for the classroom, the girl followed her
again.  The class eyed her as she entered.  The girl appeared in her seat
as she approached it, but Michie held her breath and slipped in anyways.  A
momentary chill, a crawling sensation, and then there was only the rapid
beating of Michie's heart.  She let her breath out slowly.
	"Feeling better, Michie-chan?" asked her teacher solicitously.
Michie nodded.  The girl appeared beside the teacher as he turned back to
his lesson, and Michie averted her eyes sharply.  The girl stood at the
front of the classroom the entire day, but Michie refused to look at her.

	Chisa intercepted Michie as she left the school grounds.  "Hello,
Michie-chan!" she sang.
	Michie flinched, then tried to smile.  "Ah, hello, Chisa."  She
glanced around nervously, but Licorice was nowhere around.   Chisa fell
into step beside her.
	"Did you get your errands done?"
	"I... What?"
	"Saturday you had to go to Tokyo to do some stuff and I just
wondered if you, you know, got done."
	"Oh... yes, I finished.  Thank you."
	"Great!" squealed Chisa.  "So are you gonna have to do anything
next Saturday?  I mean, we have the whole day off and stuff, so we could
get some ice cream or see a movie or something.  Y'know, have fun.  You
like fun, right?"
	Michie blinked.  "Um... yes?"
	"Well, I wasn't sure.  I mean, some people don't like fun, and you
always seem really unhappy.  I thought some fun might make you happy, but
it won't if you don't like it.  Or maybe you don't want to be happy, I
don't know.  I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to.
	"I like having fun and being happy.  I just... I'm not very good at
it."
	"Well, you have to practice!  I mean, practice makes perfect,
right?  So, even if people make fun of you because...."   She broke off and
looked away briefly.  "I mean, well, you know."
	Michie nodded.  "I don't think I have any... any errands next
Saturday, but...."  Her breath froze as she realized Licorice was walking
beside her, on the other side from Chisa.
	"Michie-chan?  Michie-chan, are you okay?"
	"Yes," croaked Michie.  "Do you see anyone... around?"
	Chisa craned her neck.  "No.   I mean, yes!  There's an old guy
making a call at the pay phone!  Is that who you mean?  Michie-chan, what's
wrong?"
	"No."  Invisible bands tightened around Michie's chest, and she
struggled for air.  "It must be my imagination."
	<<Why don't you introduce me to your friend?>> asked Licorice.
<<Or would you like to kill her first?>>
	Chisa screamed as Michie stumbled and slumped to the ground.

	As Michie opened her eyes, her vision was filled with the gently
swaying branches of the cherry trees.  Chisa was kneeling beside her.
	"Please don't die," begged Chisa.
	 Michie rubbed her face and looked around.  Licorice had vanished
again.  "I'm fine.  It was nothing."
	She tried to sit up, but Chisa pushed her down again.  "It's NOT
nothing!" Chisa said.  "People don't just walk along and pass out and it's
nothing!  I called an ambulance and you're going to a hospital and see a
doctor!  And if you get up again I'll sit on you!"
	"I don't need a doctor.  I told you I'm fine."  She pushed Chisa's
hands aside and tried to sit up again, but Chisa turned and plopped her
butt down on Michie's sternum.
	"I told you," she said.  "And I'm not getting up until you promise
to be good."
	"Fat... ass... can't... breathe..."  Michie tried unsuccessfully to
push Chisa off, then doubled up a fist and began to pound her on the thigh.
	"Ow... ow... OW!"  Chisa scrambled off.
	Michie sat up, panting and glaring at her friend.  "Go away!" she
shouted.  "Leave me alone!"  She staggered to her feet, but her vision
darkened and her head spun.  She tried to take a step, lost her balance,
and fell on her side, striking her elbow.  Clutching it, she began to cry,
her entire body shaking, like on the night she had killed Licorice.  She
pulled her knees to her chest and turned her face to the ground.
	Chisa crawled over to her, frightened.  "Michie-chan?   I'm sorry I
didn't think about sitting on you 'cause you're really sick and I'm always
so stupid!  Stupid!  Stupid!"  She rapped her forehead sharply several
times by way of illustration.  "Ow.  So please don't be mad and please go
to the hospital and see a doctor 'cause you've probably got cancer or
something really bad I just know it's really bad!"  She began to cry too.
"Please don't die, Michie-chan."  She laid her head on Michie's shoulder
and put her arm across her back.  "Please don't die."
	When the ambulance arrived, it found the two of them like this.
Chisa stood as two paramedics leapt out of the ambulance.  Michie rolled to
a sitting position, hugging her knees.  "I'm not sick," she said.
	"Yes, you are!" screamed Chisa.  "You have to see a doctor!"  She
turned to the paramedics.  "Make her see a doctor!  She's got cancer or
something, and she's gonna die!"
	One of the paramedics came over to Michie as the other one tried to
calm Chisa.  <<Maybe I am sick.  I feel awful.  But the doctor will ask me
questions...>>   The paramedic touched her shoulder, and she flinched away.
"Leave me alone!"  Suddenly terrified of exposure, she leapt to her feet
and tried to run away, but stumbled again.  The paramedics darted over to
her and caught her by the upper arms.  She planted her feet and tried to
shake them off, arching her back and screaming, but they hung on, and as
she felt the power coming up inside her, she stopped, trembling, suddenly
more terrified of herself than of anything anyone might do to her.  She
closed her eyes and stood quietly, head lowered.
	"I'll come," she whispered.  "I'll be good."
	Michie looked back at Chisa as she climbed into the ambulance.
There must have been some reproach in her glance, because Chisa burst into
fresh tears.  One paramedic stayed with her as the other closed the heavy
steel doors.
	"Do I have to lie on the bed?" she asked.
	"Not if you don't want to," replied the paramedic.
	"I want to."  She lay belly down on the cool cotton of the gurney
and buried her face in her arms.  The paramedic fastened the straps across
her back as the vehicle shook itself to life.


-- David