Chapter 1: その、はじめましての日

Homura Akemi walked briskly down the empty courtyard of the Koyo High School with a worried look on her face. Glancing down at her wrist watch, her already speedy step broke into a run.

It's only 7:45, how can I be late already? I even ran off without my lunch so I wouldn't be late! What happened to the whole "nankurunaisa" thing?

When uncle Akemi, Homura's kind uncle on her father's side, had flown her down to Okinawa and taken her into his own family, he had told her that in Okinawa, things ran slower, people relaxed to the ever present sea breeze, and everything always worked out - nankurunaisa. And for the entirety of Golden Week, Homura enjoyed this slow and tropical lifestyle with her uncle, aunt, and cousin. Waking up past 10, being a few minutes late, coming home past 11, and whatever else activity usually condemned as improper and lazy by the mainland were thoroughly common and readily forgiven.

But just when Homura thought she could learn to really enjoy this slow-pace lifestyle, the new semester began and Homura found herself apparently late on the first day - despite the fact homeroom officially began at 8:00 at normal mainland schools.

Homura felt the camisole underneath her thin and breezy schoolgirl sailor uniform moisten with sweat and stick to her body. Though she was small and lithe, and the hour still early in the day, the near-tropical Okinawa sun was not one to skimp on warming up the islands. Homura, unaccustomed to such steamy weather, found herself sweating more than what would be considered ladylike or civilized for presentation to a classroom on the first day of school. But Homura was a tough girl and she ignored this discomfort, brushing aside the dark strands of hair that were matted against her cheeks, she rushed on into the simple school structure.

It was only when she reached her classroom, 1-A on the first floor, did she stop. Taking a deep breath, she slide open the classroom doors, a quick apology for her tardiness on her lips.

But no one was inside.

Homura looked at her watch, 7:50 now. Class was beginning in ten minutes, how could no one be in the classroom yet?

No way no one could be here unless everyone was late... Could people in Okinawa really be that slow?

The answer dawned on her as quickly as she had posed the question; after all, why else would there have been no one in the courtyard. A sudden thought seized her and she quickly checked the date on her watch.

No, today is definitely the right date... I guess I'll just wait then...

Taking another deep breath, Homura slid close the classroom doors. She walked across the corridor and leaned her back against the window sill. The cool glass pane felt refreshing against her neck and shoulders. The scent of lilies from the flower bush directly on the other side of the wall wafted in sweetly through the window screen.

Homura, running her hands through her hair, adjusted her red ribbon and straighten her long dark willow soft locks. She then tugged on her shirt to loosen the camisole underneath and reorganized her skirt while hoping that somehow all this sweat would go away in the next five minutes. When she was satisfied that she no longer appeared like just survived a meat grinder, Homura rested her head back against the window and stared inattentively at the bulletin foam board - already filled with club advertisements and flyers - across from her. Her mind began to wonder.

Okinawa, huh...? Uncle says this where Dad and Mom grew up... I wonder why they never told me... Maybe they didn't like this place.

Homura's parents, back before the earthquake over four years ago, never talked about Okinawa or ever having a family there. Mom and Dad always only took Homura to her grandparents on her mother's side. And when Homura asked to see her grandparents on her father's side, Dad had simply told her they had already passed away and that Homura, Mom, and her little brother were the only family he could ever want.

I wonder if I would like this place... I don't know anyone other than Uncle, Auntie, and Kai here and I don't really have any friends...

A ruefully bitter smile played across Homura's lips and she bit them to hide it - not that there was anyone to see never did have many friends; not now in Okinawa and certainly not back on the mainland. Kyouko and Mami were the closest she had to friends, but they were really more like rivals than anything else.

But maybe my life will be different here...

At that thought, a particular flyer on the bulletin board opposite her happened to sudden catch her wandering eyes. It was the gaudily colored printed piece of advertising for a Magical Adventure Club.

マギカル冒険部へようこそ!

素敵な奇跡を見つけよう!

And further down in the member list, her eyes froze upon two names.

美紀 彩香

金目 和

Miki Sayaka, Kaname Madoka...

Homura Akemi's eyes widened as her gaze fell upon those characters. For a brief moment, a flicker of emotions shot inexplicably through her body. Then, quick as it came, it vanished, leaving her rather confused. As far as she could recall, she knew no one by those names (to say nothing of the fact the characters could be read differently), yet a note of nostalgia reverberated throughout her entire being as she mouthed out the words. Something about those names gave her the feeling that she has known those people for a very long time.

My past life, maybe?

Unbidden, Homura pushed off against the window and walked across to the board. She reached up and gingerly tugged away the push-pins that held the flyer on the thick wood-foam board and extracted the club advertisement. As she folded and tucked away the sheet into her skirt pocket, the homeroom teacher of classroom 1-A appeared around the bend in the corridor and walked toward her.

"Good morning," the teacher, an energetic woman with her black hair pinned into a bun with bamboo stick that had large pudgy panda hanging off the end of it, smiled at Homura as she approached, "You're here awfully early... Ah," her eyes sparkled, "You must be my transfer student from the mainland!"

Homura nodded and introduced herself with stiff formality.

"My name is Mami Kawada, it's nice to meet you," Ms. Kawada extended her left hand in a rather Western handshake way.

Homura, awkward shaking the teacher's hand with a confused expression on her face, noticed the pretty gold-platinum wedding ring on her ring finger.

"Come on in," Mrs. Kawada gestured as she slid open the door and stepped in, "We usually start class with a thirty-minute leeway with a few of the tardy children coming in a few minutes after that, but if you are more than ten minutes late afterwards, you will have to stand in the hallway for another ten minutes," She explained as she showed Homura to her assigned seat, "This might be Okinawa, but we're still pretty strict when it comes to school."

Homura, not sure if Mrs. Kawada was being sarcastic, laughed politely.

But Mrs. Kawada simply blinked.

Just as Mrs. Kawada had said, class began punctually some forty minutes after when it was suppose to and the students, now all seated in their assigned seats, took turns standing up and introducing themselves in front of the whole class. It was something of a custom in a sophomore class on the first day.

Nearly everyone had came from the local junior high school with the exception of the boy named Tom who happened to sit right in front of Homura. He was an exchange student from the United States.

"Thank you very much, I hope you find Japan to be enjoyable," Mrs. Kawada said as Tom sat back down in his seat after his introduction.

Next, and last, was Homura. She calmly stood up and walked up to the front of the class. She wrote her name neatly on the blackboard behind her as Tom had done. She introduced herself to the class, bowed, then started to return to her seat.

Before she could move, however, Mrs. Kawada gestured for her stop, "Ms. Akemi is from the mainland and Mr. Lee," she gestured toward Tom, "is from America. It's their first time in Okinawa," she explained to the class, "Let's show them the friendly spirit of Okinawa and so everyone, please be nice to them." She said this to everyone with a voice filled with so much sincerity that Homura could not help but wonder if she was going to be bullied as soon as the teacher wasn't watching.

But judging by the friendly smiles that lit the faces of her classmates as Homura returned to her seat, she dismissed the thought.

"Now then," began, earnestly, "It's my turn. My name is Mami Kawada and I will be your homeroom teacher and your mathematics teacher. I have a masters degree in applied mathematics from Tohoku University and I've been working here for five years now. I look forward to working with you all." Her voice was filled with pride when she mentioned Tohoku, but her voice was filled with joy when she spoke of working here. Homura felt herself wondering just why someone with a masters degree from a rather prestigious institution would bother to teach in a high school on some remote island. Mrs. Kawada continued, "An interesting fact about me is... " her voice trailed off as she put her right hand on her hip and her left hand against her cheek in what can only be described as the most ridiculously exaggerated expression of girlish wonder, "Oh this," she looked at her ring finger as if surprised to find the piece of fancy jewelry resting there, "my boyfriend proposed to me recently and I'm engaged. See, the twin ivy bands of platinum and gold symbolize our..."

Eventually, Mrs. Kawada began math class. She went over a simple introduction of matrices and determinants. Second period World History with Mr. Tanaka followed math.

Homura paid only half her attention to the material and the other half she spent staring out the nearby window past the Makigawa River to the sparkling blue ocean beyond. The salty sea breeze, carried on wings of soft zephyrs and warmed by the Spring season sun occasionally billowed by and tossed at Homura's hair and fluttered her ribbon.

And her mind wondered to the two names on the advertisement flyer now folded away in her pocket.

Miki Sayaka.

Kaname Madoka.

Something about the characters seemed wrong, even though she had no idea why they would be. Yet at the same time the names meant something to her; they had a certain ring to them that for her penetrated to her core.

Who are these girls? How do I know them?

When the forty-five minute lunch break rolled around, she excused herself from the students who offered to eat lunch with her and left the classroom. Checking the flyer for directions, Homura started westward down the corridor toward the West Wing where the clubs were given reserved rooms.

It wasn't until she was standing right outside the closed door staring at the label that she realized she had no idea just what she was going to do or what she was going to say if and when she knocked the door and someone came out to answer.

What can I say? I like your name?

Homura bit her lip in a rueful smile meant only for herself.

What am I doing here? I should leave and buy lunch...

Homura clutched at the piece of paper to her chest, she could not remember when she had ever felt so confused before. Here she was, standing outside a closed door gripping to death a flyer she illegally ripped from a bulletin board while people, mostly seniors and juniors passed by her with smirks of amusement on their faces.

She was fully aware of how much her light-blue bow-ribbon across her collar designated her as a lowly sophomore. She was only too conscious of how much she looked the part of a shy underclassman working up the courage to hand in a love confession letter to the upperclassman whom she must have held in unrequited admiration.

Suddenly red-faced, Homura was about to spin on her heels and return when the door unexpectedly opened and a girl with orange highlights in her hair poked her head out.

"Oh hi there," She said in surprise, nearly running into Homura, "Can I help you?"

Homura began, "I..." but faltered.

The girl stepped out into the hallway with Homura. Homura was not short for her age, but this girl was head taller. She wore the same simple pleated skirt and sailor uniform that all the girls wore at school, but something about her aura somehow made her seem like a radiant model one would find in a fashion magazine. Her tall lithe figure filled out her clothe just perfectly and her brown hair with its streaks of fiery orange framed her lightly tanned face like a halo and complemented the orange bow that signified her as an upperclassman. Homura could not help but feel like a dull sophomore rock next to shimmering senior ruby.

Just as Homura stared at the tall senior in admiration, the girl studied Homura in return. And suddenly, a beaming smile spread across her face when she saw the flyer in Homura's hands, "Hey! Are you here to join our club?"

"No..." Homura began, acting upon reflexive instinct, she hugged the flyer in her arms against her chest. Her voice trailed off as the possibility crossed into thoughts.

Maybe I should join this club... maybe...

"Oh..." the tall girl seemed a bit downcast, but quickly regained her enthusiasm, "You should consider joining up; we do all sorts of fun things. Come on in, I'll give you the tour." Then, in a totally un-Japanese display of initiative and daring, the girl grabbed Homura's wrist and tugged her into the room and shutting the door behind her.

"Umm..." Homura began as the tall girl sat her down at a plain wooden desk, then, out of nowhere, the question on her mind burst out through her tongue, "Are you Madoka Kaname?"

The tall girl stared at her, caught off-guard at the sudden remark, then she chuckled, "No, my name is Maaya Mizunashi. Madoka," She mused over the word, almost as if testing the syllables, "Madoka is my lowly underling." The tall girl, Maaya, replied with a straight face.

"Underling...?" Homura blinked, not sure if she heard Maaya correctly.

"I'm the Suzumiya Haruhi of this club," Maaya explained matter-of-factly as she brought out a tea set from a nearby cabinet, "And Madoka is the Mikuru."

Homura couldn't help herself but smile; she never told anyone, but she herself was quite an avid fan of that particular short-novel series.

A lull of silence settled over the room as Homura took a few glances around. An unused blackboard lay across the table from her, a bookshelf with scant few books, and simple wooden cabinet from which Maaya had withdrew the tea set were the only furnishings in the small room.

If this is the SOS Brigade of Suzumiya Haruhi, this must be the first episode. Which makes me Itsuki, I guess.

"Well," Maaya said as she prepared the tea, "Kaname and Miki are buying lunch right now, they will be back any time now." Maaya placed a full cup in front of Homura, "小红跑," Maaya explained, seeing Homura blink at the unusual color - light brown instead of green, "it's a Chinese tea."

Homura, seeing Maaya's expectant look, picked up her cup and took a ginger sip. The warm water, tinged with a touch of bitterness and the scent of Jasmines in the Spring welled upon her tongue.

"The tea leaf comes from one of only a special trees in China; these trees all grew out of sapling cuts of one original tree," Maaya explained proudly, "My dad brought it from his trip through China. Do you like it?"

Homura thought the tea tasted exactly like the stuff given away from free at cheap Chinese restaurants (Jasmine in the Spring was a Chinese restaurant), but seeing Maaya's sincerely happy grin, she nodded and replied in the affirmative.

Maaya's smile grew wider, "Have some cookies too," She said as she pulled a plate of creamy Milano cookies from apparently out of nowhere. She placed the plate in front of Homura, poured herself a cup of tea, and sat down in a nearby chair.

Homura stared almost involuntarily at the cookies. The soft creamy crumbly dough shells and the ring of sweet dark chocolate between them beckoned at her tummy and teased at her mouth. She had forgotten how hungry one becomes after skipping breakfast and sitting through Mrs. Kawada's lecture about the linear algebra of fiancés (also math). It was lunch time and Homura felt the sugar sweet call of cookies irresistible.

Maaya with a cat-like smirk on her lips, snatched a piece up and bit into it, "Hmmm, these cookies have big marshmallow centers."

Homura, watching with a most unladylike hunger, followed suit. The dough and chocolate was still warm and melted in a mix of gooey sweetness in her mouth that perfectly complemented by the mild bitterness of the tea.

"Hehe," Maaya's Cheshire-cat grin suddenly turned evil, "Freshmen capture successful."

"Huh?" Homura blinked at Maaya, not comprehending. Perhaps a less hungry girl would have stopped eating, but Homura finished her cookie anyway.

"You now must join our club," Maaya explained cheerfully, seeing no effect on Homura's confusion, Maaya continued, "In Greek mythology, if a wandering traveler stumbles upon the Land of the Dead across the River Styx, he may visit the land and return to the land of the living if and only if he did not eat or drink of the stuff from the other side."

"I just..." Homura began but Maaya cut her off.

"You have just eaten the ambrosia and now you're trapped and will become my servant forever!" Maaya, covering her mouth in that sort of exaggerated evil ojou-sama way began to laugh like an anime stereotype.

At that moment, the door to the Magical Travel Club opened and two girls entered carrying a handful of individually wrapped bakery breads and sandwiches.

"Maaya, we've hit jackpot today! We got all our favorites, plus an extra one because... oh hi there," One of the girls, a junior with lightly-tinged pink hair tied into two short twin tails, greeted Homura with a familiar smile on her lips as she laid down the food onto the table.

"Madoka, Sayaka, we have a new member joining us," Maaya beamed at the two new girls, "her name is..." Maaya paused. The realization dawning on her that she did not know Homura's name.

"Homura Akemi," Homura filled in, "I'm a sophomore." She added, demurely but did not contradict Maaya's claim that she would be joining their club.

Maaya gave Homura a momentary cocked-eyebrow look; she was clearly expecting the girl to put up more of a fight before being coerced into joining. Who would have thought one could just trap and trick people into joining clubs?

"I hope you didn't coerce her into this with anything weird," Sayaka, an energetic short-haired junior, eyed Maaya suspiciously, "We'll get shut down by the student council if you keep scaring people."

"Nonsense," Maaya said a with a wave of her hand, "my club has enough funds to fly everyone on the council for a vacation to Tokyo; they won't shut us down. Besides," Maaya clapped her hands together excitedly, "Homura already agreed to join us."

"Really?" Madoka, her eyes glittering with excitement to match Maaya's, pulled up a chair and sat down right next to Homura.

So she is Kaname Madoka... I don't think I know her... No, I guess not, I would definitely remember that pink hair. Maybe I'm thinking of someone else.

"Oh," Sayaka also pulled up a chair and sat down around the table, a wry smile on her lips, "welcome to the Maaya henchmen club, we serve Queen Maaya unquestioningly and she lashes us less when our behavior pleases her."

"Uh-huh," Maaya nodded, her eyes playful but her voice serious, "You two have done well today, you have brought me pleasing tribute," she said, holding up a pack of red-bean bread, "your lashings will be reduced from sixty to forty."

"What if we stage a revolt?" Sayaka asked, "Now that we have Homura, us peasants outnumber your Highness three to one."

Maaya, quick on her feet, jabbed back at Sayaka with something about bring out the guillotines while Sayaka returned with a clever play-on-words regarding Marie Antoinette.

"They can go at it for a while," Madoka, watching from the sidelines, whispered to Homura, "I can never keep up with those two."

"I probably couldn't either," Homura nodded in agreement, "Not unless I can stop time and think about it for a minute or two."

Madoka giggled, "Maybe if we were anime magical girls. Oh, I almost forget," Madoka reached over and grabbed the two remaining packages of bread and presented them to Homura. "Pick one." Noticing the look of surprise on Homura's face, she explained rather sheepishly, "This is Indian Curry flavored and this is Japanese Curry flavored... I'm kind of a fan of curry. It's okay if you don't like it."

"Oh no, I love curry," this was true, Mom used to always make curry and it was something of a comfort family food for Homura, "It's just..." she fudged, rather unsure regarding how to deal with all this sudden and rather bizarre friendliness. She had met these girls less than a few minutes ago, yet Madoka was treating her as if they had known each other for years.

Maybe in my past life.

"Thank you, I'll buy next time," Homura went with the Indian curry.

いただきます!

In all those years of school back on the main island, Homura could not recall a time she had this much fun forgetting to bring lunch.