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As a flying pillow reshapes her face, Helen realizes something. Maybe it is herself, that happy place she went looking for with Ironmouse. The littlest girl just barely stepped into the world of Magical Girls, so the full weight of whatever catastrophe is going around isn’t finding any room in her. Comforting other people without brainwashing them into doing something for her isn’t Helen’s idea of fun
but being the only one who can do something means power.
Wheezing, still alive, Helen looks at the tray with tea and cookies coming from the east as if it was the first light of the fifth day- yet her face warps when she sees that it is A-chan that’s carrying it. Other Magical Girls, for a lack of a better thing to do than brooding, had already joined the pillow carnage that the tallest Coordinator was elegantly dodging on her way, by moving just the bare minimum for the pillow-missiles to just graze her slender, skinny frame. Once out of the line of fire, she hands the tray to Ironmouse with a courteous smile.
卌 A-chan: Apologies, Faction Leader. I will have to steal Helena here for a bit.
Ironmouse smiles with her finally dry eyes.
▲ Ironmouse: Sure! This one has some balls, A-chan!
A-chan nods, then takes Helen away by the shoulder- from which the little girl looks over as Ironmouse’s waving hand gets smaller with the distance. Helen feels like a dog being taken to the vet; it's just /sure/ that something’s not right.
