Chapter 71 : Magical Girls and the Unwanted Ace: A Day in the Life of Kim Mari

So, after finally tearing off the bear’s head for the first time in forever, I felt as calm as a submarine sinking to the ocean floor, thinking that at least the rest of my Saturday would pass peacefully without any anger.

A quieter lunch, thanks to the absence of one stuffed toy.

The peaceful hours of a holiday settling in after clearing out empty disposable containers.

Just as I thought half of this precious holiday would slip by like that…

“Come to think of it, don’t Siyeon and Mari ever use their powers in everyday life?”

Ji-eun unni, who had escaped from the delivery food earlier, came back down to the first floor and casually threw out this question. She was asking whether magical girls didn’t use their abilities on a daily basis.

“In everyday life?”

“Yeah, Siyeon’s powers are cold, and Mari’s are hot, right? Wouldn’t they come in handy during winter or summer?”

I tilted my head at the absurdity of the question and scratched the back of my head.

Using our powers inside the house, instead of an air conditioner or boiler?

The thought I had right after hearing this was…

‘Why would someone who should know better say something like this?’

It must be that the different abilities led to slightly different perspectives.

The powers of magical girls are like streams of water gushing out of a hose.

There’s a stark difference between wildly twisting the faucet and spraying everything recklessly, and carefully adjusting the flow to water plants.

Defeating monsters? That doesn’t require much control—who cares if the roads get wrecked or things get smashed?

But using it “practically” at home? That’s a whole different story.

What if, with a slight miscalculation, I accidentally set the house on fire, or Siyeon turned the place into a frozen tundra while cooling it down?

At that point, it wouldn’t be a laughing matter anymore.

“It’s kind of like asking someone to stop mid-stream while they’re peeing…”

“Oh… is that what it’s like?”

When I compared it to something more relatable, unni seemed to grasp it a bit better.

Still, she scratched the back of her head, her expression showing uncertainty, so I added more.

“What you’re asking is like telling us to fire a monster-slaying beam so weak that it doesn’t hurt anyone, and to keep doing it consistently.”

I explained further, using magical girl combat scenarios as a shared reference, to make her understand fully.

Finally, she showed a look of comprehension.

That explanation only worked because Ji-eun unni had once been a magical girl herself.

“Oh… so that wouldn’t work, huh?”

“Exactly.”

I nodded, affirming her sigh of realization.

You sometimes see posts like that in online communities.

Stuff like, “Siyeon’s ice powers must be great for summer,” or “Sun’s fire abilities would be awesome in winter.”

What nonsense. Even magical girls use air conditioners and boilers like everyone else.

It’s not like we’d set the house on fire because it’s cold, or dump liquid nitrogen on ourselves because it’s hot.

Could there be a more extreme way to deal with the heat or cold?

Even just heating the tip of your finger without transforming takes immense precision and effort.

Suggesting we use our powers as substitutes for boilers or air conditioners? That’s asking for disaster.

Even if it’s possible, you’d have to cling to a staff all day long.

Might as well just buy an air conditioner or heater and use that instead.

The holidays pass in a flash, and before you know it, weekdays return.

The first period on a Monday, right after the weekend—a time that couldn’t be worse.

And as if that weren’t bad enough, the first period on this frigid January morning is P.E.

“We’re having P.E. outside!”

‘Oh, f**.’*

It would’ve been nice if it were an indoor class, but the class rep dashed even that faint glimmer of hope as he ran into the classroom.

Muttering curses under my breath, I grumbled while throwing on my winter gym clothes over my half-removed coat. Then I pulled my coat back on and trudged outside.

Slumping down on the bleachers by the field, which double as stairs, I shoved my hands into my pockets and pulled my hat down tightly, befitting the chilly weather.

Korea’s weather is downright cursed, being unbearably cold in winter and unbearably hot in summer.

When the familiar melody of the school bell echoed through the grounds, classmates began trickling onto the field one by one.

It wasn’t just our grade that had P.E.; other grades were out on the field as well.

The lower grades followed their teachers in neat little lines, heading onto the field.

By the time you’re an upperclassman, unless there’s an announcement about having P.E. indoors, it’s understood you’re supposed to head out yourself.

‘I hope we just sit around and rest.’

The laziness engulfing my entire body made me scrunch up my face, hands still in my pockets.

When it’s P.E. time, the boys usually play soccer, and the girls play dodgeball.
I was hoping they’d let us mess around like that so I could slack off, curled up in my coat, lost in thought.

It’s not like I don’t get enough exercise doing random activities near my house…

“We’re playing dodgeball!”

‘Oh, for f**’s sake.’*

From afar, the class rep, arriving ahead of the teacher, announced the plan for today’s P.E. class.
Curses swirled in my head.

If it were free time dodgeball, I could just opt out, which would be nice, but… forced dodgeball leaves no room for negotiation.

“Even-numbered students, gather over here! Odd-numbered students, over there!”

And so, our class split into two teams, odds and evens, for the preordained dodgeball game.

With a clattering sound, a green cart rolled out from the P.E. storage shed by the field.

White chalk powder was spread across the ground to mark out a decently straight dodgeball court.

For the record, dodgeball is the kind of game where the last student standing becomes the center of attention—whether in a good or bad way.

I had no intention of putting in my best effort.

I aimed to stick close to the border near the opposing side and get sent to the outfield as quickly as possible.

“Don’t aim for the face!”
With the teacher’s mild instructions, the dodgeball game began.

A game of rock-paper-scissors determined the team to go first.

Our team won the rock-paper-scissors match, so unfortunately, I couldn’t be the first one eliminated.

In dodgeball, all you have to do is either dodge or catch the ball.

To make it even weirder, there was a rule where catching the ball revived a teammate.

In any case, the game started, and amidst the scramble to dodge flying balls, I naturally got hit and was sent to the outfield.

The fun part of dodgeball is when there are about one to three players left.

That’s when the crowd of players thins out, leaving only the ones who are genuinely passionate about the game.

“Ahhh!”

Even without any rewards on the line, if we’re on the same team, people around me would burst out in exclamations of amazement, even if it wasn’t me dodging the ball.

And then, if by chance I managed to catch a flying ball, cheers would erupt from my teammates.

“Who do you want to save?”

“Hey, Kim Mari, get in!”

‘Why me?’

Even though I was perfectly fine being eliminated early, the boy who caught the ball from the outfield revived me back into the game.

I couldn’t say no, and, receiving cheers for some reason, I begrudgingly returned to the court.

With so few people left, I couldn’t just get hit and leave again.

“You throw it.”

So shamelessly, the boy who brought me back onto the court handed me the ball.

I didn’t even know this boy’s name or why he saved me, but regardless, I aimed the dodgeball—which wasn’t as hard as a soccer ball—at the ground on the opponent’s side of the court and threw it.

That was it.

With that, the last remaining opponent was taken out, and the court erupted in cheers.

There was no reward for winning or losing, so why did they care so much about it?

No, actually, it’s thanks to these kinds of people that someone like me can play fewer games.

Even in the outfield, my unwanted performance didn’t end.

In the second and third games, I was eliminated early, but every time I threw the ball hard at the group of students gathered in the outfield, two or three would get knocked out.

Even with just a fake throw and tossing it the other way, these naïve elementary school kids would get eliminated so easily.

“You’re really good!”

The girls hanging around nearby complimented me.

Since dodgeball is one of those sports that’s popular with the girls, compliments like that were common.

Even as I listened to their praises, I couldn’t shake off an awkward feeling.

‘It’s not that I’m good…’

I couldn’t exactly tell them, “It’s because you’re simple and naïve.”

So the words that came to mind stayed as just thoughts, and I tilted my head as I prepared for the next throw.

Probably the one student here who least wanted to move around was me.

Yet, every time an attack chance came up in the outfield, the kids would always hand the ball to me.

“Who do you want to save?”
“Kim Mari!”

Every time someone on my team caught the ball, I was brought back from the outfield into the court.

Stop it, you pure-hearted little devils.

Being treated like the ace is fine once or twice, but enough is enough.

In the end, during PE class, where I normally played three games and spent the rest of the time relaxing, the games stretched to five.

I ended up playing as the ace the whole time, leaving me more exhausted than anyone else in class by the time first period’s break rolled around.

“Mari, you’re so good at dodgeball!”
“Uh… yeah…”

‘Is this some kind of hell… or bullying?’

Back in the classroom, my teammates continued praising me endlessly…

…but all I wanted was for everyone to shut up and leave me alone.

Right now, I felt like I could spit in their smiling faces without hesitation.