Spider Lilies – A Quiet Refuge
Disclaimer: In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't own Puella Magi Madoka Magica. All Madoka-related characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of Studio SHAFT and Gen Urobuchi.
[-]
Mami Tomoe sipped tea calmly, smiling as she watched a little girl toddle about her otherwise empty apartment.
She'd first met the child, who said her name was Nagisa, in the waiting room of Mitakihara General Hospital. And that was more or less the grand total of everything she knew about the girl.
Her family name, age, living situation – even the reason why she'd been in that hospital in the first place – were all still a mystery to the blonde. All she knew was that Nagisa had wanted to leave there very badly.
For most people, that wouldn't have been enough to invite a stranger to stay in their home. But several weeks on, there wasn't a single day Mami had ever regretted it.
"How about I fix us up some cake to go with this tea?" she asked kindly, as the girl seemed to grow tired of playing, and settled down into a comfy chair. "What kind would you like today, Nagisa-chan?"
She knew the answer before she even asked the question.
"Cheesecake!" said Nagisa, with a squeal of excitement. "Um…I mean, if that's not too much trouble…"
"No, I think I've still got a few slices left in the fridge. Let me just get it ready and do the topping," replied Mami, her smile broadening. "I picked up some fresh strawberries from that produce store you love so much."
"Thank you, Mami-san!" Nagisa exclaimed cheerfully, and the older girl's heart practically melted.
She'd felt so alone, for so long, that Mami found the child's energy and positivity almost literally life-saving. It didn't matter that Nagisa was a remarkably substantial drain on her reserves of cash and food – she had plenty of both.
Because when the girl smiled back at her out of gratitude, it was worth every last yen her parents had ever left her.
It'd been three years since the accident, and in that time discovering Nagisa was about the only bright spot in her entire, lonely existence. Her mother, an influential senator, and her father, a businessman from Italy, had only been the first people she'd been forced to lose.
Unfortunately, they'd been far from the last.
But still, she hadn't lost hope. She'd found ways to give her life purpose, no matter how bleak it seemed; one in particular, of course.
And now, she had another.
As she busied herself with the cake, one eye on the other girl at all times, Mami began humming a gentle tune, perfectly at peace with herself.
[-]
Homura Akemi was reading quietly when she received the email.
In the earliest time flows, when things had seemed less dire, manga had been a quiet refuge for her. A way to get lost in the adventures of heroes and heroines who never died; who never failed; whose romantic hijinks always turned out fine in the end. Gag manga, in particular, was a guilty pleasure of hers – a fact she was sure would shock most of the other girls who knew her.
But as timeline upon timeline piled up, and the need to squeeze the absolute most out of the fifty-two days her shield allotted her became more acute, extraneous things feel by the wayside. And nothing was more extraneous than "fun."
Still – as she constantly had to remind herself – she was trying something different, now. She'd spent so many time flows distancing herself from Madoka, fighting tooth and nail to protect the pink-haired girl from her own self-sacrificing nature, that it felt distinctly strange to simply "hang out" with her, going out for snacks or playing Mario Kart.
And yet, there were few things she could imagine she'd rather be doing. After all those repeated months, relying on no one but herself, she couldn't deny the part of her that fervently wished (oh, not that word, never that word) to just spend a bit of time at the side of her one and only friend.
With the power she had…what was the harm, really?
Which brought her to where she was now, flipping through a worn tankōbon volume with dog-eared pages. Madoka had recommended this title, an old favorite of her father's, and it was immediately obvious why.
The character designs were so cute as to be almost sickeningly saccharine; the plots simple and straightforward. It matched well with what she knew – from ample experience – to be Madoka's tastes.
That being said, Homura also couldn't help but notice the all-girl main cast were all rather…close to one another. Rubbing cheeks, holding hands, cupping each other's chests to compare sizes…
Was…Was this…?
Homura flipped the book around to look at the publisher info on the back cover. Yep…a now-defunct yuri press line.
Tomohisa Kaname was an adult bisexual – she knew that from a previous timeline, when she'd gotten it into her head that essentially stalking Madoka's parents might help keep her safe – so it was probable he understood the implications of all the subtext here.
But did his daughter? Did Madoka…like this kind of stuff?
Remarkably, out of countless time flows, learning absolutely everything there was to know about Madoka Kaname, the girl's orientation had never been one of them. It wasn't like it was an easy question to just come up and ask someone – especially since each fresh loop made her a stranger to Madoka once more.
Apart from that, though…she may've simply been afraid of the answer. She knew what she felt for Madoka. She knew it vastly eclipsed anything resembling "friendship."
But she'd never known – never been able to stomach asking – if those feelings were, or even could be, returned. As long as the question went unspoken, and as long as nothing else changed in either of their lives (Madoka certainly hadn't shown interest in anyone else "that way," guy or girl), she could anchor her ship in the murky waters of ambiguity.
Knowing for sure meant the possibility of knowing the answer wasn't the one she wanted.
It wasn't like she felt entitled to "have" Madoka, of course. Nor did she really expect it. Even if Madoka was a fellow queer girl, there were a hundred young women better-suited for her, just at their school alone.
Sayaka Miki, for example, was unquestionably bi – whether or not she realized it yet. And the two had known each other since they were pint-sized. Their relationship reaching the next level was hardly impossible to fathom.
Assuming, of course, that this wasn't one of the dozen-odd time flows in which she and Kyoko Sakura wound up going at it like rabbits.
The point was, Madoka deserved better than who she was now; than what she was now. Better than the cold, aloof loner who didn't trust her to make her own decisions. Better than the warrior who'd spent so long fighting for her love, that sometimes…
It was hard to remember just why she'd fallen for her in the first place.
But those doubts never lasted. She'd see Madoka smile, or laugh, or offer a helping hand to someone in trouble. And she'd remember.
Remember why these feelings would never die.
Still, though she was making a concerted effort now to be someone that Madoka could, and would, freely trust, it never really "felt" quite right. Like her role as "Madoka's cool new bestie" was nothing but an ill-fitting costume. Maybe she could've slipped into it better during one of the earliest time flows, but now…
Even as she read this silly yuri manga, half her concentration was devoted to her surroundings, watching for threats she knew would not come. Those habits were hard to shake. Perhaps impossible.
But for Madoka's sake…
For Madoka's sake, she would try.
That's when the email arrived on her phone.
Marking her place in the manga, Homura put it down and flipped open the device. The peppy, upbeat ringtone and pink notification message told her who was calling long before she opened her inbox.
Mind, given that Madoka was the only person with her email address, that was perhaps already a given.
The included message was in far better shape, grammar and spelling-wise, than her texts in class – probably because it was in kanji. The chat software on their school laptops defaulted to English, and regardless of the time flow, English was always Madoka's worst subject.
Homura pursed her lips as she quickly read through it.
Dear Homura-chan,
Great news! My parents are going on vacation to Paris, thanks to one of mama's work things.
But they don't want to leave Tatsuya and me home alone, so we're gonna stay with my aunties for the week. They've got this really big, old-fashioned place on the edge of the city.
I know it's sort of last minute…but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to join us? Auntie Akane said it was alright, and I think it could be super-fun!
It's alright if you have other plans, but I really hope you can. Send me back your reply by tomorrow, okay? Just so we can give them a head's up.
Hope to see you soon! :)
Sincerely,
Madoka
The brunette blinked several times, to make sure she'd read the message correctly.
In all these countless timelines, this was something utterly without precedent. There'd been the occasional day trips, early on, before the deaths of Mami Tomoe or Sayaka Miki inevitably cut short any desire for frivolity – to the beach, or a festival.
But Madoka had never, in effect…asked Homura to go on vacation with her. To sleep under the same roof, eat the same food, just the two of them and Tatsuya.
For a whole week…
There was a tightness in her chest that had nothing to do with the heart condition she'd once been beset with, literally a lifetime ago. Homura didn't have words for what she was feeling now; couldn't begin to parse it.
This was the sort of thing she'd dreamed of, in those twilight moments when the walls she'd stubbornly build around herself began to crumble, and she allowed herself to feel. The sort of thing she knew, that she accepted, would always be out of her reach.
Deep down, she wasn't nearly as cold or rational as she projected herself to be. But she tried, dammit, she tried. And that meant she was willing to face facts.
The time flows when she got closest to Madoka, when she told her everything – or just about – were always, invariably, the ones in which the pink-haired girl suffered most. Distance kept Madoka ignorant.
Distance kept Madoka safe.
Yet now, after making all the decisions she knew were wrong…now was the time when the universe saw fit to reward her?
Could she – should she – accept this kindness? Was it fair? Did that matter?
Perhaps…Perhaps, she could avoid the question entirely. Because that same cold rationality had been feigned so long that it was all but her default. And from that perspective, this was no choice at all.
Madoka would be at a significant distance for a full week, and in a relatively unfamiliar environment to boot. She'd be incredibly vulnerable. The perfect target for…
Homura's eyes suddenly shot toward a section of her vast white walls – and to the window she knew lay behind the holographic display.
In the alleyway behind her home, something small darted out of sight.
Her lips pursed in a deep frown, Homura's fingers began typing a reply, though her eyes neither blinked nor moved from their current position.
My Dearest Madoka,
I'll be there. You can count on it.
-Homura
[-]
"God, when'll they put somethin' good on?" complained Kyoko Sakura, sagging across the couch as she aimlessly flipped through channels. "All the late-night anime these days is crappy light novels an' harem shit."
"Maybe that's a sign you're spending too much time watching TV," Sayaka Miki said crossly, snatching up the remote and putting the sound of an extremely strange commercial on mute. "Besides, that one you showed me last week was pretty good. With all those people on wires and the naked baby things?"
"Howzit ya get twice the grades I do, an' still can't remember a three-word title?" teased Kyoko, with a shake of her head.
In response, Sayaka simply blew her a raspberry. The redhead matched her in kind – a rather more impressive fear, considering she managed to keep a stick of Rocky perfectly balanced across her tongue the whole while.
That was the nice thing about living with another chick, Kyoko reflected idly. She and Sayaka both knew just which buttons to press to get a rise out of the other, and while they usually didn't mean anything by it, the constant banter kept things exciting.
It'd been a while since she'd had…well, anyone to bounce off like that. Not since…
Kyoko shook her head violently. No. No. She didn't think about that stuff these days.
Besides…thinking about how much Sayaka sometimes reminded her of Momo only made some of her other thoughts significantly weirder.
The blue-haired girl was a lot less self-assured than her in…well, a lot of ways, actually. But definitely in terms of sexuality. She was certainly in love with that dumbass boy in the hospital (Kyonusei? Something like that…), but her dreams in that regard were so chaste Kyoko wasn't sure she even knew what a dick was.
Honestly, if you couldn't even make it past first base in your fantasies, then there really wasn't any hope for you.
Not that Sayaka knew she was aware of her silly schoolgirl crush, of course. But if she wanted to keep a journal on her computer, then it was her own damn fault for picking such a shitty password.
In any event, while Kyoko wasn't entirely certain if the blue-haired girl was man-only or swung both ways, she definitely knew in her own case. And she wasn't ashamed of it. Why should she be?
Sure, she was still a virgin, but she knew what she liked, and Sayaka was…well.
Maybe it was the pixie-blue bob haircut. Or the neatly toned body the girl pretty much never showed off, much as she clearly could. Or her brash, tomboyish personality, always spoiling to run off fighting some noble crusade.
Either way, she'd been attracted to Sayaka from the very first day they met.
Of course, those weren't really things she was "supposed" to think about right now. The Miki family had graciously taken her in off the streets, and for all intents and purposes Sayaka essentially was now her sister. Certainly, that was how Sayaka seemed to treat her, for good and for ill.
Which Kyoko was fine with. Most of the time.
(She was still gonna keep peeking at her diary, though.)
"Hey, Kyoko! Earth to Kyoko!" interjected the other girl, waving her hand in front of Kyoko's face. "C'mon, I asked you a question!"
"Oh! Uh…sorry. Kinda spaced out there," she said, her lip curling underneath her fang. "Yer gonna have ta hit rewind a couple times."
Sayaka sighed. "God, you're hopeless," was her muttered response. "Okay, let's try this again. What…err…what do you think of that Homura girl?"
Kyoko arched an eyebrow. That wasn't what she'd been expecting at all.
"Any particular reason?" she asked, her tone defaulting to mock-taunting in lieu of knowing how else to react. "She get yer motor runnin' earlier today? Y'know, I always had a feelin' about her…"
"N…N…N…No! It's nothing like that!" stammered Sayaka, suddenly red as an apple. "Cut it out with that kinda talk, this is serious! It's…well, it's just…"
Of course, Kyoko had no intention of "cutting out" with all the gay jokes and innuendo. For one thing, they were fun as hell. But for another…
Well, it couldn't hurt to keep an eye on the blue-haired girl's reactions.
Still…on closer inspection, the emotion in those azure eyes looked remarkably deep. Not anything Kyoko's pointedly lacking social skills were capable of deciphering. But genuine.
So for her sake, the redhead momentarily stowed her mirth.
"Look. I dunno that much about your childhood or where you came from, but let me tell you a bit about mine," said Sayaka. "When I was a kid, I had three really good friends. There was Hitomi, the pretty rich girl, who was always so perfect it honestly kinda made me jealous. And there was Kyosuke, the prodigy, who was wowing audiences with his music when I was still learning how to read."
Kyoko didn't miss the sharp flush that fell across her face at the mention of hospital-boy. Yup, she had it bad.
"But then there was my best friend in the whole wide world. This scared, timid, ridiculously kind girl with a face like a doll's," she continued on. "Madoka was…well, she always felt like she needed saving, y'know? Someone to protect her, from bullies or rowdy dogs or whatever. And in elementary school, that was me."
"What's this gotta do with Akemi?" asked Kyoko, though she was starting to get something of an idea.
"I'm used to being her protector, is my point. Her knight in shining armor. I dunno if I ever really grew out of that," Sayaka answered quietly. "And my 'knight senses' have been going haywire around Homura Akemi. They've only known each other for…what? A few weeks? And now I barely even see Madoka without her clinging on!"
"How come, though?" Kyoko spoke through a mouthful of Rocky; she'd finally given up on sucking and was now chewing the poor stick to dust. "I mean, she's Lil' Miss Weirdsville, don't get me wrong. But so is half yer crazy school. God, those 'Hero Club' chicks…"
"I…well, um…" murmured Sayaka, wringing her hands and sighing again. "I can't really explain it, okay? It's just a feeling I get whenever I'm near her. Like she's hiding something. Like she's planning something."
"Exhibit A through Z in that whole 'Weirdsville' thing," said Kyoko, extending both pointer fingers toward the other girl. "Seriously, yer just bein' paranoid. What, ya think she's gonna lure Pinkie inta her van with some candy?"
Sayaka's jaw dropped so low she practically dislocated it, and the redhead hastily added, "Okay…too far, even fer me. But seriously, she's probably jus' crap at makin' friends. Don't take this the wrong way, 'cuz it's a compliment…but Kaname's pretty much Easy Mode fer that. Hell, she's so sweet I'm practically fallin' fer it, an' I barf when I have ta use two honorifics in the same sentence."
"Maybe…" Sayaka breathed out, though she didn't sound convinced. "But I saw how she reacted. The moment she transferred in, she made a beeline for Madoka. Like she knew her. Like she knew what kind of person Madoka is. The type who couldn't turn someone away if they were holding a hatchet dripping blood."
"Ugh. Now who's gettin' creepy?" responded the redhead, making a face. "Anyway, if yer really that concerned she's tryin' ta prey on Kaname in some way, or…or takin' advantage of her, or somethin'…"
"…What am I gonna do about it?" Sayaka finished for her. "Good question. Wish I knew the answer. You're right about one thing: if I just walk up to Madoka and tell her this, she'll think I'm a total psycho. I need some solid proof before I make my move."
"Well, well. Looks who's suddenly Miss Sayichi Kudo," said Kyoko, causing the blue-haired girl to roll her eyes at the lame pun. "I mean, let's say ya got it right. What does it change? Kaname's a big girl, she can make her own decisions. Even if they're shitty ones."
Sayaka's body went rigid, and she bit her lip; apparently, she didn't have a good answer for that one.
Eventually, however, she just mumbled, "She's…my friend, okay? I just don't want her to get hurt."
Kyoko didn't say anything either, instead studying the worried lines of the other girl's face. Then, abruptly, she stood up, walked over to the kitchen, and began pulling out some pots and pans.
"What're you doing?" asked Sayaka.
"Whatzit look like? Makin' dinner," the redhead called back, thumbing her way through the Miki family's collection of spices. "Ya good with curry?"
Still utterly wrong-footed, Sayaka managed to stammer out, "W…Why're you…?"
But Kyoko just poked her head back out of the kitchen area, and locked eyes with her roommate, fiery red on cool blue.
"Same reason yer goin' up to bat fer Kaname, ain't it?" she said, a knife and onion in hand. "Yer not the only one with a friend ya don't wanna lose."
[-]
Madoka had been so excited the night before the trip that she'd barely managed three hours of sleep.
Nevertheless, she woke up that Saturday morning practically bursting with energy. It wasn't an unusual feeling for her. She'd realized early in life that she didn't have the skills or talent to make much of herself, and resolved instead to be as bright and positive as possible, so that she'd leave every person she met with a smile on their face.
If she could help encourage even one person to achieve their dream, then that'd be worth it to her.
She'd already bathed the previous night, but after a moment of deliberation Madoka decided a quick shower couldn't hurt. She hadn't seen her aunts in nearly a year, and she wanted to make sure she was at her best.
And her bedhead really didn't disappear without copious amounts of water.
Upon reaching the bathroom, she found that it was already occupied – but as the avant-garde chamber was larger than some people's entire apartments, she went right in anyway.
"Morning, Madoka," spoke her mother, without looking away from the mirror as she studiously applied her makeup. "Did you sleep well?"
"Um…not really," said Madoka, smiling bashfully. "But I'm okay. How about you? You were, err…drinking pretty hard last night."
"I've got a thirteen-hour flight to sleep it off. I think I can manage," was Junko's offhanded reply. "And if not, that's why God invented ibuprofen."
Madoka didn't bother suppressing a giggle. She loved her mom so much.
As she pulled off her pajamas and turned on the water, the purple-haired woman called out again, a tinge of concern in her voice, "Are you sure you're going to be okay with this, Madoka? Akane-chan hasn't babysat you since you were six. It'll be an adjustment for everyone."
"Don't worry, mama," she assured her brightly. "Me and Tatsuya will be fine. Besides, we'll have Homura-chan with us. She's super responsible and mature."
"About that…" continued the businesswoman, now obscured behind a curtain and the rising mist of hot water. "You know, I quite like Akemi-chan. Every time she's come over here, she's impressed me with her grace and politeness. But…"
"But…what?" asked Madoka, cocking her head to the side as she lathered up some shampoo.
"But don't you think this might be moving a little…fast?" said Junko. "You'll be spending a lot of time alone together. The way I hear it, your aunts only have two spare rooms – and I expect Tatsuya will want one to himself. He's young…but not so young I think he'll be thrilled at rooming with his fourteen-year-old sister."
"I…still don't think I get what you mean, mama," responded Madoka.
The older woman sighed heavily. "Then I suppose you're a very different girl than I was at your age," she murmured. "Which…is probably a good thing, all in all. Just so long as you're careful."
Truthfully, Madoka still didn't have a clue what her mother was getting at, but she nodded all the same. Then, realizing they couldn't see each other, she quickly added, "I…I'll be careful."
Junko went silent for the next few minutes, as Madoka finished off her shower; based on her mom's morning routine, she was most likely checking stock information and making quick calculations regarding her investments.
And indeed, as the pink-haired girl wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out of the stall, she found her mother's deep purple eyes glued to one of the displays on the wall, skimming through the highly detailed data.
"Hmm…Chaldea Security's shooting up like a rocket. Guess I didn't give Tohsaka enough credit," she said to herself, before noticing her daughter approaching the sink. "Oh, and look who's ready to get all dolled up. You're starting to grow into a real bombshell, Madoka."
Madoka's face instantly went bright red. "Don't tease me, mama…" she mumbled back, unable to prevent a self-conscious glance downward. "You know that isn't true."
"Maybe, maybe not. But I'll let you in on a little secret: ninety percent of beauty is just a matter of believing in it," she told her daughter. "Fake it till you make it – that's the adult's creed. Act like every crowd you pass has a few secret admirers…and odds are, one of them will."
The middle-schooler chuckled. "I guess if you have something to fake with," she declared, eyes moving over her mother's indisputably gorgeous face. "But secret admirers? Me? Let's not kid ourselves, mama."
In response to this, Junko gave her a look she couldn't quite parse.
But all she said was, "Yep…definitely different from how I was."
[-]
Junko Kaname's eyes were on her daughter the entire way as they rode in a taxi to pick up Homura.
Akane's car was in the shop, so they'd decided the most efficient way to handle things was to take a cab to the airport, and then have the same cab continue the kids on to the Inoue-Kunizuka residence.
They'd offered to pick Homura up from her home, of course, but the girl had politely declined, citing that it was too far out of the way for them to bother. Instead, she would take a train to the station a few kilometers from the airport, and they could join up with her there.
Mind, the businesswoman had a sneaking suspicion it had more to do with not wanting Madoka to see where she lived. Was her apartment in a nasty part of town? Was that all she could afford, with her parents apparently out of the picture?
Truthfully, when Madoka had confessed her reasons for wanting some "alone time" with Homura the other night, Junko had had half a mind to call child services. A fourteen-year-old girl had no business fending for herself, even if she seemed to be rather good at it.
But then, Junko didn't really know anything about the brunette's situation. Only what she suspected, reading the tenseness of her body language and the terseness of her speech.
She'd just have to trust her daughter knew what she was doing with this trip.
And trust that "alone time" didn't go in the directions she was worried it could.
It was honestly mindboggling how her daughter could miss the massive crush Homura evidently on her. The signs were all there: the obsequious fawning, the lingering hugs, the faint flush in her cheeks whenever they happened to brush up against one another.
Perhaps because she was so reserved and stoic at other times, these moments stood out all the more. Or maybe it was how much they reminded her of a certain young realtor who'd fallen head over heels for a humble tomato gardener, all those years ago.
Either way, it'd been evident within minutes of meeting her that Homura was both very gay, and very into her daughter.
Not that Junko had a problem with it – or at least, no more than she would've with any person, regardless of gender, who looked at her precious baby girl "that" way – but at the same time, Madoka's naivety in this regard could prove genuinely dangerous.
She'd only known the quiet girl for a little under a month now, and that wasn't long enough to really know someone. Certainly not enough, in her view, to sleep in the same room as them for a full week.
Junko turned away from her husband and children and toward the window, sighing under her breath. Perhaps she was just being overprotective.
Really, if Homura did turn out as polite and demure as she projected herself to be, then she certainly wouldn't be an awful first love. And Junko would've been a rank hypocrite to claim that fourteen was too young for a relationship – her own first boyfriend having been, depending on how seriously one took playground oaths, at either age twelve or six.
Still, she'd honestly never considered the issue one way or the other before today. Never had to. It wasn't like Madoka had ever come to her for relationship advice, guy or girl.
It was one of those moments every mother prepares for – or at least tries. But now that it'd finally come…
She found her preparedness rather wanting.
Especially as the train station in question was now rapidly coming into view.
Homura Akemi was waiting right at the curb, holding a bag over one shoulder and a small box in her hands. As soon as the taxi doors opened she bowed and proffered it to Junko, revealing the gift to be an assortment of fancy snacks.
"A very good morning to you, Junko-san. Tomohisa-san. Tatsuya-kun," she said, her manners impeccable. "These are for your flight. I expect the in-flight meals might not be sufficient for a trip of such length."
"That's very kind of you, Akemi-san," answered her husband, returning Homura's politeness. "Please, come in and sit. I hope we didn't keep you waiting too long."
"It was no trouble," the teenager told them, before deftly settling into the one empty seat in the cab.
Which just so happened to be right next to Madoka.
"Home-run-chan! Home-run-chan!" Tatsuya cooed gleefully from his car-seat; the brunette was now sandwiched directly between both Kaname siblings. "We gonna go aunties, Home-run-chan!"
Rather than correct his pronunciation, however, Homura just smiled indulgently. "Yes, it looks like we are," she whispered back, just loud enough that Junko could hear. "Now be a good boy the rest of the way, Tatsuya-kun. So your mommy and daddy can take their trip without worrying about you."
"Hokay!" he exclaimed, before curling up and resting his soft head against Homura's leg.
"You're so good with him," said Madoka, her mouth open slightly. "Sometimes it takes me hours to get this little guy to calm down."
"I've had…practice," the brunette replied evasively. "A lot of practice."
Madoka frowned slightly. "I thought you were an only child, Homura-chan," she muttered, perplexed. "Or did you mean with the younger kids at that orphanage?"
Junko was sure she didn't imagine that uncomfortable little fidget.
"…Something like that," the girl stated coolly, after a pause. "Now, did you get all your homework done for the weekend, Madoka? I want to make sure we leave some time to study if you need it."
The businesswoman didn't catch the rest of their conversation, however. She was too deep into her own thoughts.
Taken on the surface, Homura Akemi really was something else. Her infatuation with Madoka might've been patently obvious, but so too was her determination to do it right.
Treating her parents with the utmost respect and deference. Bonding with her brother. Showcasing concern for Madoka's life and wellbeing, well and above her own. Even now, she acted the part of the perfect girlfriend, without necessarily getting a single thing out of it.
But that was just it; she was acting. The smiles, the laughter, the ever-present honorifics – none of them were faked, but they were forced. Like she was trying far too hard, simply to be seen as someone worthy of Madoka's love.
A love her own mother didn't even know could be returned…much less whether or not it would.
That, in and of itself, didn't make her dangerous. If anything, it made Junko's heart go out to her.
But the question remained…
How would this quiet, introverted girl react if Madoka told her "no"?
[-]
"I just got an email from papa," said Madoka, about thirty minutes after dropping the Kaname parents off at the airport. "They're at the gate with an hour to spare."
"That's good to hear," Homura responded distantly, as Tatsuya dozed against her side. "They're wonderful people, Madoka. You're very lucky to have them."
Something about the girl's tone seemed a little off, but Madoka decided to ignore it.
"Of course they are! I wouldn't give up my family for the world," she told the other girl. "And I'm glad you all get along so well. Especially mama! She keeps saying how you're just like she was at our age."
Slowly, that small but amazing smile reappeared upon her lips. The genuine article – not the one she plastered on sometimes to pass unnoticed. Those smiles were like golden moons.
Rare, but incredibly beautiful.
"No. No, you wouldn't," she murmured, taking one of Madoka's soft hands in hers. "And you'll never have to. That's a promise, Madoka."
"Umm…okay…" said Madoka, again unsure whether or not she was missing something. But Homura didn't seem to have anything else to add, so she decided to press onward. "So, err…any idea what you wanna do once we get there? I hear auntie's new house is one of those super old-fashioned ones, like twice the size of ours. It's right on the edge of Mitakihara, where the farms used to be."
"I'm happy to do anything you want to do," she declared quietly, her smile remaining firm. "Just as long as I'm with you, Madoka. That's all that matters to me."
"That…That's just it, though!" Madoka was unable to keep herself from exclaiming. "I don't want you to keep doing stuff just because I wanna! You're not some kinda robot, Homu-chan!"
The smile disappeared. Replacing it was an expression that was almost like…hurt?
Feeling mortified, the pink-haired girl hastily added, "B…B…But I didn't mean it in a bad way, or anything! I just…I want you to be yourself around me! To feel comfortable. You always seem so…so…"
Homura's shoulders twitched slightly, as if agitated by something, and she wound up averting her eyes to the passing scenery.
"It's been a long time since I felt anything like 'comfortable,'" she said softly. "I'm not sure I even know how to, anymore. It's…easier, when you take the lead. It isn't a burden to you, is it?"
"No, no!" yelped Madoka, a bit too quickly. "Well, I mean…to be honest, I'm not really used to it. When I was a kid, I always let Sayaka or Hitomi choose what we played, or where we went to eat. Mama once joked that my spirit animal is a doormat."
"That you consider others' needs and desires before your own isn't proof that you're foolish or weak," she told her firmly. "It's proof of your kindness. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise."
The conviction in her voice was enough to stun Madoka into silence, her cheeks pulsing a bashful pink.
But after a few moments, before she could stop herself, the words squeaked out, "Why do you think so much of me? Why…Why do you even…?"
"Someday, Madoka…" Homura cut her off. "Someday, you'll see yourself the way I see you. You have no idea how special you are. How dear you are to…to so many people. There's no one I've ever met as generous. As kind. As willing to do whatever it takes to help out a stranger in need."
"I…don't really think that's all that special," said Madoka, biting her lip. "There's lots of people like that. Maybe it doesn't always seem that way, with all the news and stuff…but I really believe it's true."
Homura tilted her head back toward her, so that their eyes met. Those deep indigo pools, so rich in color and yet always seeming to lack something, a spark that most "ordinary" people had, were suddenly shimmering with emotion.
"Trust me. It's rarer than you think," she whispered back. "So much rarer."
Madoka wasn't sure what else to say – so she said nothing. The rest of the taxi ride proceeded in silence.
But when her fingers found Homura's, several minutes later, the other girl didn't pull away.
[-]
The residence of Akane Inoue was, even for a time-traveler who'd fought supernatural monsters for over fourteen years, something of a sight.
It was the sort of traditional home you only saw in samurai dramas or anime these days, complete with sliding screen panels, narrow wooden verandas, and a garden that looked straight out of an Edo-era painting. Despite herself, Homura found her eyes drawn to the light tapping of a sōzu fountain, the bamboo tube rising and falling in steady rhythm.
"Isn't it cool?" asked Madoka, her usual cheer returned in full force now that they were free of the confined space of the taxi. She'd provided the cabbie with the generous tip Junko had left with her daughter, and he was now unloading the Kaname children's bags. "Like something out of a fairy tale!"
"Mmm-hmm," Homura hummed, barely listening. Now that she'd recovered from the initial surprise, her instincts were kicking in with full force, peering about the roomy estate for potential threats and possible escape routes.
"Ah, I see you're here already," said an older voice from amidst the shrubbery. Stepping around the azaleas in full bloom was a lady in her late thirties or early forties, wearing a low-brimmed straw hat and holding pruning shears. "I didn't expect you for another hour at least, Madoka-chan! Let me get cleaned up and I can greet you properly."
But Tatsuya Kaname didn't have the patience for that. Bouncing with energy after his nap in the cab, the three-year-old toddled over and grabbed his aunt around the leg.
"Auntie!" he giggled, mouth wide open. "Auntie, up!"
"Well you've certainly gotten bigger since we last met," Akane remarked indulgently. "Alright, let me just put away these shears and take off my gardening gloves. Don't want to cut those adorable little cheeks. Madoka-chan, would you mind…?"
"Of course, auntie," she answered, quickly bounding over to scoop up Tatsuya into her arms, freeing their aunt to begin walking back to the house.
"Kindly follow me," the older woman told them, scooping up the luggage – minus Homura's bag, which was still slung over her shoulder – without being asked, and beckoning them forward. "You're all welcomed guests in our home."
And so, the four of them proceeded into the dwelling, Homura coolly observing their host from the back all the while.
She was something of a mousy woman, though hardly unattractive, with chocolate-brown hair and matching eyes. Though Homura knew her to be older than Tomohisa by a year, she was almost two heads shorter than he was, and a body that'd probably been trim and fit a decade ago was beginning to give way to midlife plumpness.
"Please, make yourselves comfortable," she said, once they'd all taken off their shoes and passed the threshold. "I'll be changed in just a moment."
The interior of the home was no less traditional than the exterior, complete with shrines, folding screens, and tatami mats lining all the floors. Madoka took a seat at a short chabudai table without skipping a beat, looking as if she did this sort of thing every day, while Tatsuya did his best to mimic his sister's graceful position (and largely failed).
Homura, for her part, fought off a blush at the sheer poise with which the pink-haired girl moved, so used to being seen at a klutz that she didn't even realize it. Then, silently, she joined the Kaname siblings on the floor.
Akane returned to them in less than two minutes, now carrying a tea tray and wearing a black yukata with a plain blue floral pattern. She reached down to hug Madoka briefly around the shoulders, and to offer Tatsuya a kiss on the forehead, before stepping back and bowing low.
"I apologize deeply for my rudeness. And especially to you, miss," she spoke to Homura, head and shoulders still inclined. "I failed to greet you and invite you properly into our home. Please, I hope you can forgive me."
Homura returned the bow as much as she could from a seated position, as she accepted steaming cups for herself and Madoka.
"No, no. It was our fault for arriving earlier than our scheduled time. It couldn't be helped – traffic was simply far lighter than Tomohisa-san anticipated," she said to the older woman, her politeness dialed back up to maximum.
"What a well-mannered girl you are. Although if you're friends with my Madoka-chan, that's hardly a surprise," Akane complimented her, taking a seat as well. "Let's try these introductions one more time. I am Akane Inoue."
"Homura Akemi. It's a pleasure to meet you, Inoue-san," responded the raven-haired girl. "I must say, you have a lovely home."
"Why thank you, Homura-san. And please, call me Akane – or Akane-san if you insist on the honorific," the older woman stated brightly. "I'm so glad to have all three of you here this week. Shion and I have been getting a little stir-crazy cooped up in here, if I can be honest. It's been almost fifteen years since we've spent this much time off-duty."
Truthfully, it was hard for Homura to imagine this kindly, petite lady as a police officer, though she didn't say it out loud.
Then again, perhaps she wasn't the person to complain about appearances being deceiving.
"Do you think they'll get that investigation resolved soon, auntie?" asked Madoka.
"No way to tell, I'm afraid. For obvious reasons that can't really leak us any details," she said. "Frankly, I'm not sure what else they expect to find. Sarue's case was…unique. Not the sort of thing that should taint an entire division."
"Is it…err…something you can tell us about?" replied Madoka, more than a bit awkwardly.
Akane hesitated, glancing toward Tatsuya, who was listening rapturously. Then, in careful and measured tones, she explained, "Sarue had…pictures, on his computer. Of children. A suspect hacked his machine, found them, and blackmailed him into sabotaging several investigations."
Tatsuya still looked completely oblivious, but Madoka immediately shuddered. Sweet as she was, she wasn't nearly as sheltered or naïve as Homura sometimes caught herself thinking her to be.
"Good riddance, I say. Guy grabbed my ass on his first day, knew he'd get his shit canned ever since. Just a matter of waiting," came a deep voice from the other side of the sliding door.
"Shion! Don't use that kind of language in front of my nephew!" exclaimed Akane, as her partner entered the room.
If Akane Inoue didn't quite look like a cop at first glance, then this woman practically broke the rating scale. Her black hair was dyed blonde in evenly spaced, alternating stripes (or possibly vice-versa), giving it the appearance of a tiger's coat. She wore jeans and a T-shirt with cut-off sleeves, bearing a weird logo and the words "DEATH DEVIL" in English. As she walked into the room, Homura saw her surreptitiously toss a used cigarette into the garbage.
"Pssssh. He has a fourteen-year-old sister, he'll hear a lot worse than that over the next few years," said Shion, wiping her hands on her jeans and then offering one to the seated girls. "Shion Kunizuka, Akane's partner…in more ways than one. God, how long's it been, Madoka?"
"About three years. Not since Obon back in 2008," Madoka recalled promptly, not reacting in the slightest to her aunt's less-than-age-appropriate outfit. Homura supposed she must be used to the image at this point. "Auntie, this is my friend Homura Akemi-chan."
"Damn, you're quite the looker, aren't you?" she told Homura, clasping her hand briefly and offering a cheery wave to Tatsuya. "Aaaaaand now I'm getting scarily close to Sarue territory, so I'll just leave it at the standard 'welcome to our humble abode' jazz."
Homura wanted to keep herself from gawking, but despite her literally years of practice she wasn't sure she altogether succeeded. These were Madoka's aunts? These two were a couple?
And yet, as Shion settled down next to her partner, the look that passed between them was unmistakable. As were the hands that immediately locked around one another.
As was the deep kiss they shared after Akane poured her partner some tea.
"Now, you really must tell us everything about what's going on at school, Madoka-chan," said the brunette policewoman, after the two of them detached, Shion wearing a toothy grin. "And you as well, Homura-san. Don't spare any details."
But as Madoka searched for a way to explain her progress in English without saying some rather unkind things about her teacher's inability to separate her work and personal life, Homura found herself tuning out.
Something else was suddenly commanding her attention.
"Excuse me a moment," she interrupted the pink-haired girl's just-launched story. "I'm sorry, but could I possibly use your restroom?"
"Of course, dear. Go out into the hall behind you, and it's the second door on the left," answered Akane with a smile.
"Thank you very much," said Homura, bowing again and leaving without another word.
But though she exited into the hallway, she didn't go through any of the doors inside the house. Instead she exited back out to the garden, and narrowed her eyes into the bushes.
She knew what she sensed. But here? So soon?
"I told you already," she snapped, to all outward appearances speaking only to the plants. "You stay away from Madoka Kaname. That wasn't a request."
There was a swish of movement. Then, within the bush, appeared two pinpricks of glowing light.
Instinctively, Homura shot a small bolt of magical energy just past the bush, singing the ground. The figure within seemed to get the message.
A moment later, Homura Akemi was alone in the garden once more.
