Chapter Text
As it turned out, Sodachi was well-suited for being Tsubasa’s companion. She may have been the best person in the world for that role. She may have been the best person who would ever live for the role.
Sodachi wanted to be remembered. That meant that that everyone who ever saw her would remember the girl in the spotlight.
Even when Tsubasa forgot everything else, she would remember that girl. She might forget her name, she might forget anything about Sodachi, but she would still remember something about her. The molotov cocktails couldn’t burn that away.
In essence, that meant that Sodachi had become Tsubasa’s caretaker. Sodachi didn’t know how long she had been a magical girl before the two met, because Tsubasa didn’t know either. It was long enough that all her original memories had been burned away. Still, Sodachi couldn’t imagine it having been a long time. Tsubasa was stupid. Maybe she hadn’t been before all this, but she certainly was now. The girl couldn’t walk and talk at the same time without getting confused.
Sodachi felt like she was at once Tsubasa’s caretaker, older sister, and mom. It was ironic, then, that Tsubasa had the body of an adult— all of Sodachi’s attempts to figure out how old she actually was, physically, had failed, so she had landed on 18 as her guess— and Sodachi was stuck in the body of a middle schooler for the rest of her life. Anyone who saw the two together might think of them as older and younger sisters.
In reality, it was the other way around.
At the very least, Sodachi was grateful that Tsubasa’s amnesia only got worse in battle. It was only because of those molotov cocktails that she would forget things. Thus, for any stretches of time where they weren’t fighting witches, Sodachi didn’t have to worry about her getting more stupid. She might lose track of herself and get lost, or start acting like a kid again and stumble off because something shiny caught her attention, but she wouldn’t get worse.
After a fight was a different story entirely. Sodachi had developed a routine with Tsubasa to figure out what she had forgotten after a battle. After one too many experiences of Tsubasa forgetting something commonplace, like how street lights worked, had made that mandatory in her mind. Of course, after a particularly nasty bout, like a difficult witch fight, it might be easier to figure out what Tsubasa still remembered compared to what she had forgotten.
At least the really basic things still remained. Tsubasa never forgot how to speak. Losing memories changed how she talked, and when she lost a lot of memories at once, she would talk in a noticeably simpler way for a while, but Sodachi never had to re-teach her the basics of linguistics.
Similarly, Sodachi was glad that Tsubasa didn’t need to re-learn potty training.
Not that such a skill was necessary for a magical girl, essentially just a living corpse. That was beside the point, though. That Sodachi was grateful for that much was just a sign of how beleaguered this relationship had her feeling.
In a lot of ways, it validated Sodachi’s trepidation about teaming up that she had had before meeting Tsubasa.
Yet, at the same time, Sodachi now struggled to imagine a life without Tsubasa.
If nothing else, it made life easier for her if she wasn’t alone. They shared their stash of grief seeds, and since they could take on stronger witches this way, it ensured that they would always have a steady supply. They were never in danger.
It was easier to rest when there were two of them, too. No witches or enemy magical girls were going to sneak up on them. Even as ditzy as she was, if Sodachi drilled something into her, she would remember it until it burned away.
An empty head was easier to fill with knowledge.
Sodachi would respect that more if the first bit of knowledge being refilled wasn’t usually her own name.
Was Tsubasa happy like this? She always had a bubbly attitude. Her ditzy demeanor never showed any signs of discontent beneath the surface. More than once, Sodachi found herself wondering if Tsubasa was simply too stupid to be depressed.
If that was the case, then Sodachi was a little jealous. Ignorance really was a form of bliss. Between the two of them, Tsubasa got the better deal.
If Sodachi was given a do-over, would she do as Tsubasa had done? Probably not. She wouldn’t become a magical girl in the first place. Considering the level of change that Tsubasa had undergone since her life as a human, suicide or a lobotomy would be equally viable options. Both sounded equally enticing as what Tsubasa had gone through.
But despite the disdain and pity that Sodachi hjad for Tsubasa’s condition, it would be a lie to say she didn’t have affection for the other girl. After spending every day of their lives together for so long, she had to have grown fond of her— if anything, the “her” that Tsubasa currently existed as was simply just the latest version of herself that Sodachi had known. Tsubasa constantly being torn apart and rebuilt meant that Sodachi always knew Tsubasa far better than she herself did.
Even if she always felt like she was babysitting, Sodachi appreciated the companionship. It made her realize she had missed it before they met. The life of a magical girl was a lonely one. From the moment they made their wish to the day they became a witch, they would find themselves alone and isolated from the rest of the world. Magical girls had to operate in the shadows. There was no other choice. There was no other life for them.
So another magical girl to be their companion was invaluable.
Sometimes, it even felt like Sodachi was taking advantage of Tsubasa because of this. The clueless girl would never understand that loneliness in the same way. Whenever it began to dawn on her, she would burn it all away.
She would burn it intentionally. That was something Sodachi had realized. Whenever Tsubasa learned too much, she would get more aggressive. She wanted to burn away her memories. Whether or not she was happy like this, she was clearly happier than the alternative.
She wanted to know nothing.
Still, it felt like Sodachi was taking advantage of her. This clueless girl was trapped in a life of perpetual cluelessness, and here Sodachi was, using her for companionship. It was only a few stages better than having a plush toy that she talked to.
A plush toy wouldn’t be able to talk back. Even if Tsubasa didn’t make for the best conversationalist, it was better than Sodachi playing both sides of the conversation. She had seen other magical girls who did that. It was pathetic.
Even if Tsubasa couldn’t walk and talk at the same time without getting confused, she was still better than that.
A plush toy couldn’t act like a lover.
Not that Tsubasa was particularly good at that, either. What good was a lover who always forgot her partner? But on the other hand, Tsubasa’s perpetual cluelessness meant that Sodachi could tell her just about anything and she would believe it. If Sodachi ever got bored of their relationship taking one form, she simply needed to wait until Tsubasa forgot about it, so they could start from scratch again. Cruel or kind, top or bottom, it only needed to last as long as Sodachi wanted it to.
Sodachi’s wish helped, too. Her want to be remembered was so strong that even Tsubasa could not truly forget her. The name, the face, the personality might not stick in her mind, but even if Tsubasa forgot everything else, she would remember Sodachi. That made them perfect companions for each other in any respect, but certainly this one. It never took any amount of convincing. If Sodachi was the only person Tsubasa remembered, then clearly she must be important to her.
In a sense, that was true. Sodachi really had become the most important person in Tsubasa’s life. It went both ways. After so long, Sodachi could hardly imagine a life without Tsubasa in it.
Someday one of them would die. That was the inevitable fate of every magical girl. They would die or become a witch. Sodachi wasn’t sure which of them she would rather meet that fate first.