Disclaimer: I don't own shit.
Author's Note: I have too much time to think.
Five Lives; Six Stories
One: The Soldier
"I have two rules in my army." Came a calm, collected voice in the AM of the local military base. Her tone was foreign, a slight asian flair without the comical aspect to it. "The first is you do what I say, when I say." The voice continued, a contingent of soldiers lined up before one figure as it paced before them, long, raven hair flowing behind the figure. "If you fail to follow this rule, I will punish you most severely." She stopped, her camo-print jacket displaying her name promenently on her chest, the words 'AKEMI' stitched on the patch. "The second is, if I hear a single comment come out of any one of your stinking holes about my heritage, it will be the last god damn thing you do." She never rose her voice, her tone remaining flat and monotone. Drill Instructor Homura Akemi didn't have to yell. She didn't have to scream or call names. The woman was frightening to behold. Lightning quick and lethally accurate, she once threw a knife alongside a man's middle finger, only barely breaking the skin. Everyone knew there were two certain things in Homura's unit. The first is you learned to shut the fuck up very quickly... and the second was you gave her all the respect she deserved, and more.
"Am I understood?" She asked, snapping on her heels to face the recruits. There came a chorus of 'yes ma'am's from the assembled unit, the five fifteenth division of the Queen's Royal Army, stationed outside London. She nodded, her pale purple eyes eyeing the crowd once more. "Are there any questions before we begin?" No one raised their hands. She smiled a little, the smirk fading quickly. "I have one for you, then." She spoke simply. "Which one of you sodding piles of filth thinks they have what it takes to put me on my ass?" This is how she started every single unit she trained. Weed out the arrogant and bull-headed. One hand shot up, a cocky son of a bitch with blonde hair and a shit-eating grin that would make the Cheshire Cat jealous nodded.
"Ma'am, I think I can take you on." The soldier spoke in a british accent. Homura was thirty two years old now. Her hair was still as pitch as it was when she was younger, and save for the nearly invisible crow's feet forming just aside her eyes, she still had much of her youthly vigor and beauty.
"Very well, then." She spoke, motioning the man forward. "Step forward." He did so and took a rough, barroom brawl fighting pose, to which Homura responded with a flip of her hair. He threw one punch. One.
The moment she saw him flinch to attack, she stepped lithly and elegantly out of the way and took firm hold of his arm, and with reactions honed over the last eighteen years, hurled the one hundred and ninty pound man effortlessly over her shoulder like a dishcloth, slamming him hard onto the ground, back first. He said naught a word as he looked up at the early morning sky in awe, unable to even wince in pain.
"Next." Homura mused, cleaning a strip of dirt from under her fingernail. No other hands were raised. "No next? Very well. You." She pointed to another recruit. "Help him to the infirmiry."
"Yes, ma'am." He saluted and did as instructed.
"The rest of you, dismissed."
Homura Akemi. Thirty two years old, and by all accounts, a normal woman. Sergeant in the Royal Army, has seen now two wars, and hopes there's no third for her. She watches the recruits file out, running her lithe fingers through her hair, as a silver ring shimmers in the low light.
"I have to say I'm better off here then back in Japan. At least here, you can usually see what's trying to kill you, and you don't have to hide behind a lie to fight back. I don't have any friends. I don't need them. Friends just get in the way, and go off and die on you before you can say stop. Sure, adjusting here has been a pain; between being allowed to carry a gun and learning English, my adaption to western life has been... pleasant. Not like back home. Not like Mitakihara.
"I had friends once. Once. Four other girls who understood me better then anyone here could ever hope. Not like here. Here, it's all 'yes ma'am', or 'no, ma'am'. No one stops to question. They just do. I like that. I'm no one's friend. I'm no one's confidant. I trust no one, and no one trusts me. Just like it's always been.
"Mitakihara... I had almost forgot about that place. It's gone down hill in recent years, after the New Millenium funding ran dry, the city started heaving in on it's self. All of the shiny buildings I remember are nothing more then dried out husks feeding off the refuse of civilization. There are more slums there then citizens almost. The east side of town, where we all used to live, is now one big red light district, feeding on the corruption germinating in those streets. I'm almost afraid to see where they are now...
"Why? Why am I thinking about them now? It's been almost twenty years since I turned my back on them, and they chose this moment to slither back into my memories... I'll never forget that day... where we went from the best of friends, to the worst of enemies. I remember it, because it was in May... just after we celebrated our first anniversary of Walpurgisnacht's defeat."
Pop! The sound of a cork popping out of a bottle echoed in the room. "Hiyo!" Came a cheery voice over the laughter. "Careful there, Twindrills, almost took my eye out."
"Would be an improvement." Sayaka took a stab at Kyouko, who only laughed, rubbing the blunette's hair vigorously.
"Yea, you're funny." Homura sipped the fizzy drink quietly as she watched. They had survived the impossible, but only by doing things together. Yea, Madoka had been spending less time with her, but it was to be expected. Homura wasn't Madoka's only friend. She still had all three other girls assembled, plus Hitomi to take into consideration. Sayaka and Kyouko had their moments, but when they were alone, it was almost like neither of them knew the other. Then... there was Mami.
Mami somehow always managed to rub Homura the wrong way. She wasn't a bad girl, no quite the opposite. Mami was a very good person and a good friend to all... but just the way she looked at Madoka now... it was almost scandelous... like she was a piece of cake, ready to be eaten.
"Homura-chan... you've not said two words all night." Madoka finally spoke up, looking at Homura with a concerned glare. Homura pointed at Kyouko and Sayaka, playing in their own little world.
"Those two have been talking amongst themselves all night..." She focused her hard stare on Madoka. "And she seems to have monopolized your time so... I guess it's time for the mentor and the friend to switch roles. I'll be the loner for a bit."
"Akemi-san, that's a bit harsh..." Mami mused, a frown appearing on her face. "I'm not stealing Kaname-san from you... we're just talking."
"About what?" Both Madoka and Mami froze.
"Just... stuff." Madoka answered simply, looking away. It had been no lie that Madoka had been spending an almost unhealthy amount of time with Mami, and no one knew why. Homura had her suspicions, but nothing was confirmed.
"I'm just teaching Kaname-san a few things, Akemi-san. There's no need to get so defensive."
"Spoken like a true..." Homura paused, then looked into her glass. "You know what? Fuck it. Not worth it anymore." She stood and walked to Sayaka, slapping her lightly on the back. "I know how you feel now." The room had gotten eerilie quiet.
"How... I... feel?" Sayaka mused carefully. Homura sympathized with NO ONE.
"Give your soul for someone... and they stab you in the back."
"Akemi-san!" Mami barked first.
"Homura-chan, you think Mami-san and I are..."
"What else? Spending an awful lot of time together..." Mami looked disgusted, while Madoka looked shocked.
"Akemi-san... I... don't like girls... like that..."
"Yea. Straight card. Keep playing it. Maybe I'll believe you."
"You've... had too much of this." Kyouko mused, trying to take the glass from Homura.
"It's cider..." Sayaka answered.
"No, you know what. My back is killing me, you guys. Do you know why?" Everyone shrugged. "Because I have been carrying you lot on our hunts for the past eight months. Eight months. Madoka's off in la-la land half the time... Tomoe's doing god knows what... you two... you're too busy bopping and hitting each other to fight the witch..."
"Hey, Homura, settle down, would you..." Kyouko tried.
"NO." She spoke firmly, glaring at Kyouko. "I will not 'settle down'. I am sick and tired of all you. Just because we beat..." She paused. "No wait... now that I think about it, it was me who killed Walpurgisnacht. You four were just extras."
"Akemi-san!" Mami barked once more.
"Fuck you, Mami. Fuck you and your lesbian ways. I'm out of here. Fuck all of you." Putting the cider on the table and walking to the door, she turned. "I can't believe I thought you were worth dying for." And left.
-Present-
"I may have been a bit harsh but... it was years ago. I'm better now then I ever was with them."
"Akemi!" A voice barked. She had walked back to her room and sat on her bed. "Mail call." He spoke, tossing a letter onto the bed.
"Who from?"
"Fuck if I know. You're the only one on base who can read Japanese. S'why I knew it was for you." Japanese? Reaching over, she took hold of the envelope and read the return name. Tomoe Mami. Jesus fucking Christ almighty in heaven... what in the seven hells did she want? Sliding a fingernail under the seal, she broke it and removed the letter.
Akemi-san.
I don't know if you remember me or not... it's been a very long time since we last spoke... nineteen years if I recall properly. After your... rather dismal retreat when we last spoke, everything fell apart. Sakura-san, Miki-san, and even I moved away... I decided to write this letter after coming across a picture in one of my boxes... it was us... all of us, talking and laughing... before we fell out of touch.
I want those days back, Akemi-san. I want to be able to talk to you again... all of us. Please... get in touch with me sometime. I do miss you.
Mami Tomoe
Tiro Tea House, Southern California
Homura blinked, then re-read the letter a few times. She couldn't have been serious. 'The last time they talked' she had literally accused her of not only being gay, but stealing her own love interest from under her nose; aggressively and publicly. She took her phone from her bedside table, opened up the email app, and did the one thing she thought she'd never do again.
She spoke to Mami Tomoe.
Tomoe.
I remember you allright. I think about you a lot... more these days then before. I can't help but think that... maybe I was wrong in my accusations. Maybe it was my own jealous feelings that lead to me leaving that day.
I don't hate you. I never did. I was a child with a lot of issues I was dealing with, but that is no excuse. I'd love to see you again. When and where?
Oh... and how did you get my address? I'm in England.
Homura.
Maybe... maybe it wasn't too late to patch old wounds... maybe it was for the best.
