Spider Lilies – Let that Be a Lesson

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.

[-]

"I…thought your parents had passed away, Kyoko…" said Sayaka awkwardly. Her roommate didn't talk about her past much, but that'd been the one piece that remained consistent. "You said…"

"I know what I said!" yelled the redhead, clutching at her shoulders and backing away. There was a strange emptiness to her eyes. "An' it's the truth! He's dead, mom's dead, Momo's fuckin' dead! I saw it happen! I…I was…"

The blue-haired girl pulled her into a quick, one-armed hug, cutting her off.

"Kyoko…" she declared seriously. "I think you need to tell me exactly what happened to your family."

Her roommate looked stricken at the very thought. "I…don't wanna think 'bout that…" she mumbled, averting her quickly moistening eyes. "Don't…wanna remember that…"

"Well your dead dad's standing in the middle of our school, so it's a little late to avoid the subject," Sayaka cut her off, deciding on the spur of the moment that delivering a little tough love might be the best solution. "But first: should we tell a teacher or something?"

"No!" exclaimed Kyoko, perhaps a bit more loudly than she'd been intending. "I…I mean…we got no idea what's goin' on, kay? Don't wanna get anyone else involved who doesn't hafta be."

"Fine. But in that case, we're gonna go check this out, together," said Sayaka. "And you're gonna tell me the whole story on the way. No ifs, ands, or buts."

It was a mark of how serious things were right now that Kyoko didn't make a crass joke about "butts."

Instead, if more than a bit hesitantly, the redhead nodded.

"It's not gonna be a pretty story, jus' forewarnin' ya," she told her roommate, taking one last glance through the window before leaving. The minister hadn't moved a centimeter since they first spotted him. "An'…it'll probably make ya think o' me different."

Despite herself, Sayaka found her fingers lacing tightly around the other girl's. She fought off her initial urge to pull away and blush furiously, instead holding firm.

"I think you'll find I'm feeling a little more open-minded than usual today," she whispered with a smile. "So go ahead. Try me."

[-]

The mandatory actions to take place following a suicide attempt, it turned out, involved a copious amount of paperwork.

"I came as soon as Kazuko called," said Akane Inoue, as she sat herself down next to the two teenagers. On the other side of the table sat the principal, who quickly introduced herself and exchanged bows with the policewoman. "How are you feeling, girls?"

"Better, I think," replied Homura, hands folded in her lap. "Getting to talk with Madoka one-on-one really helped."

Madoka meekly nodded her agreement, but couldn't think of anything else to add.

"That's good to hear, Akemi-san. You're one of our brightest students, and I want you to know you're supported here," Aoki-sensei stated kindly. "Now, this is a delicate matter, and I want to make clear that nothing leaves this room without Akemi-san's express consent. With the exception of mandated reporting to child welfare, which has already taken place."

"I understand. That's fine," murmured Homura, nearly tonelessly.

"Of course, this situation is complicated by Akemi-san's…unique circumstances," the principal continued on. "A message has been left with the director of her orphanage, but I was unable to speak with him directly. And I fear that, with her living alone, any intervention he might be able to offer is of limited benefit."

"That's why it's important to keep your friends close at times like these," said Akane, giving both the girls' shoulders a quick squeeze. "Family is important, but theirs aren't the only bonds that can get us through dark days."

The principal slid yet another file full of papers – in addition to all the ones Homura and Madoka were currently filling out – toward Akane.

"This is a listing of licensed therapists our school maintains a relationship with. It is legally required that Akemi-san attend a minimum number of sessions, which will of course be compensated in full," she explained. "Kaname-san, you face no such requirement, but I would still highly encourage you to join your friend in this healing process – at least to the degree both she and you are comfortable."

"I think it would be helpful to have Madoka around as much as possible," Homura told the adults, bowing her head toward the pink-haired girl.

Madoka bit her lip for a moment, suddenly feeling a bit put on the spot. Nevertheless, she swallowed and declared, "I'm here for Homura-chan. No matter what."

A couple days ago, she wouldn't have hesitated in emphasizing that point by taking Homura's tender hand in her own. Now…she wasn't sure if that would help or hurt things.

"Thankfully, it doesn't look as if word of this incident has spread far," said Aoki-sensei, switching gears. "Rumors and gossip can greatly worsen the impact of events like these. Akemi-san, I trust that's how you'd prefer to keep things?"

Homura nodded once, her head only moving the absolute minimum amount in each direction.

"Please keep this away from the media, if at all possible. And I don't want my classmates to know anything if they don't have to," she answered, though without any audible emotion. "I…appreciate your discretion, Aoki-sensei."

"Of course. Our concerns for your privacy are second only to our concerns for your safety. If there's anything else I can do, you need but say the word," spoke the principal. "Now, Inoue-san…is it possible I could have a few minutes to speak with you alone? Girls, you can wait right outside my office. This shouldn't take long."

"Y…Yes, sensei," stuttered Madoka, standing up from her chair altogether too quickly, before adding a hasty bow.

Neither Homura nor her aunt objected either, so she fell in step next to the former and left the room.

The moment the door to the office closed, Madoka let out a deep breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding in.

"Whew…I'm not sure how you get through stuff like that every day, Homura-chan," she said, looking at the raven-haired girl seriously. "I mean, trying to hold all that in…pretending everything's normal…"

"For me, Madoka, this is normal," she responded flatly. "It's been longer than I can possibly countenance that I haven't kept secrets. Ordinary people can't know the ugly truths of this world. That's a natural law, inherent to…who I am. What I am."

"And…what about me?" asked Madoka, shuffling her feet hesitantly. "I'm as ordinary as they come. Why'd you decide to tell me the truth?"

A strange look, one that Madoka couldn't have begun to read if she tried, appeared in the other girl's indigo eyes. It was looks like these – so distant, so piercing – that forced her to realize just how little she understood her friend, deep down inside.

"I've tried lying to you before, Madoka. I've tried hiding ugly truths and shielding you with ignorance," Homura whispered. "And in the end, I've always failed."

Slowly, she took hold of Madoka's hand once more, their fingers linking one by one. In face of the severity of the situation, the pink-haired girl managed to keep her composure against the sudden contact – if only just.

"No matter what happens…no matter what it costs…" said the brunette, her expression now set with resolve. "I will always do everything I can to protect you."

[-]

Sayaka wasn't sure what she'd been prepared for. But it wasn't that.

Her mouth had kept on opening and closing for the past few minutes, without any sound coming out. Surely, a good friend – or whatever you called two people who'd thought they were friends, until their impromptu spit-sharing session in the hallway – would have something to say at a time like this?

Kyoko was pouring out her heart and soul, and she was flopping around like a dying fish.

"Oh, but don't worry," finished the redhead, the words pouring from her lips like a spigot now that she'd finally let them loose. "Dear ol' dad made sure we didn't suffer. Quick stabs ta the head with a kitchen knife. He was apologizin' the whole time, can ya believe that? Sayin' the Lord'd forgive our sins, even if He didn't forgive his. All while he tied the noose 'round his own neck with one hand an' set fire ta our home with the other. Y'know…just ta be on the safe side."

"God, Kyoko…" Sayaka gasped out, feeling like she was liable to retch any second. They were the first words she'd managed to speak in nearly five minutes, so of course they were absolutely useless.

"Course, it became a big news story. Not enough ministers in Japan that one o' 'em goin' completely nuts an' massacrin' his whole family 'scapes the headlines," said Kyoko, showing no signs she'd heard the other girl. "Thank God fer that fire, am I right? Otherwise Mom an' Momo's bloody faces woulda been on the front page. Burned 'em beyond all recognition."

"Kyoko!" exclaimed the blue-haired girl, unable to contain herself any longer. "You…I mean…this is what you've been keeping inside all this time? This is…is…"

"A shitshow. A horror story. A goddamn fuckin' nightmare," Kyoko interjected, her face and tone both more severe than Sayaka had ever seen before. "Yeah, I know. Kinda sorta lived it. Big fuckin' shocker I'm not in any hurry ta re-live it."

"I…I'm sorry…" Sayaka mumbled, looking askance. "I never knew…never even imagined…"

"Then let that be a lesson ta ya," the redhead replied sternly. "Don't go judgin' other people fer how they live. Ya never really know what's tickin' inside their heads. Or what kinda shit they're carryin' 'round. Me? I learned that day ta never look back. Ta live in the moment. Cuz any second…it can all come crashin' down."

The two were silent as they climbed down the final stairwell to reach the first floor. Before they could make their way to the front door, however, Sayaka stopped in her tracks.

"I…I know it's gotta be hard. Harder than I can even imagine," she said. "But could you answer some questions for me? About…that night…?"

"Don't see what there is ta explain that I haven't already," Kyoko tossed off, placing a stick of Rocky in her mouth just so that she could angrily crunch through it. "Well, 'cept how my clearly dead father is standin' right outside those doors right now. So why don't we quit stallin' an' get out there alr…"

"How did you survive?" demanded Sayaka, cutting her roommate off.

For a few moments, Kyoko looked confused, as if she didn't entirely understand the question. "Well, I mean…obviously I jus'…" she started, before her mouth closed and her eyes went wide.

Something was slowly dawning on her, and it had her paralyzed with shock.

"I…remember gettin' up. Seein' mom and Momo…like that. Seein' the fire burnin' 'round me," the words spilled from her throat, barely louder than a whisper. "But I don't…I don't remember feelin' any pain. I jus'…walked outta there. Like the fire wasn't even there."

"You're not making any sense, Kyoko," said Sayaka. "Did your dad decide to spare you?"

The redhead made a noise halfway between a snort and a snarl.

"No way in hell," she snapped. "I was the reason he did all that shit. Told me so himself. Right at the moment he jammed the knife square 'tween my eyeballs."

"Wait…you didn't mention that before," Sayaka interrupted her roommate again. She felt like crap for doing so – for poking holes in what was clearly the source of all Kyoko's deep-seated trauma – but her instincts wouldn't allow her to leave things be. "What'd he…say, exactly?"

Kyoko gave her a hard glare, but nevertheless answered, "He called me a witch. An' I ain't coverin' up his language or nothin' – that's the word he used. A witch that corrupted his precious flock. Damned if I knew what that meant. Worst I ever remember doin' was pissin' behind the church when I was five."

Involuntarily, Sayaka felt her own eyes twitch a few times. There was something about that particular word that stirred up…something inside her…

"Look…I dunno how I survived. I remember the knife goin' inta my face. I remember the fire, burnin' everywhere as I blacked out," the redhead went on. "Obviously, I'm still kickin'. But the rest's as good yer guess as mine."

"More memory loss," said Sayaka, with a small gasp of realization. "But this one's like Mami-sempai's. Long-term."

"Don't go stickin' me in the same boat as Miss Bleach-Blonde," responded Kyoko, rolling her ruby eyes. "Sure, details are a little fuzzy on the night my own dad tried ta fuckin' murder me. Not really that weird. And not really the same as havin' big chunks o' the last three years completely missin'."

Sayaka looked askance, her left arm gripping tightly onto her right forearm. "Okay…you made your point. I'm sorry for asking so much about this," she muttered. "But if your dad's secretly been alive all this time, then clearly there's a lot about that incident we're missing."

"No argument there," stated the other girl, slipping the Rocky back in her pocket and placing a hand on the double doors. "So let's quit lollygaggin' an' get some damn answers."

With that, the two girls strode cautiously out of the school.

[-]

The two kidnappers had reached a lull in their "experiments," and were currently taking a break to enjoy some calming tea.

Well…she was, at least. Her lover, bless her Soul Gem, needed cream and ten sugars just to swallow a cup, making it a lot closer in consistency to a milkshake than the chamomile she'd meant to prepare.

But the energetic girl knew her mistress cherished her daily tea, and so she put up with it with a broad smile. That's what it meant to be in love.

They'd been together for either a very short or a very long time, depending on how one wished to count things. Either way, she really couldn't imagine living without the other girl – to the degree existence as a Magical Girl could be called "living." On impulse, she told her so.

Her partner's grin widened so much that it looked almost painful, clapping her hands together with audible force.

"Oh, mistress! I've dreamed each and every night to hear you say that!" she exclaimed, tears practically in her eyes. "To be useful to you is the greatest honor a girl could live for! Not that I'd ever let any other girl stand by your side, of course. That honor is mine and mine and mine and mine alone!"

Outwardly, she chuckled at this display, and patted the other girl indulgently on the head. Inwardly, however, she was frowning.

She never quite knew what to make of her lover's…zealousness. Most of the time, it was useful. She lacked much combat utility herself, so without the other Magical Girl to fight her battles she'd have almost certainly been found out and eliminated long ago. It was why she'd chosen to Awaken her first, out of every other girl in Mitakihara City.

But outside of that context, the sheer intensity of the girl's feelings was occasionally off-putting. She was constantly putting herself down and building her partner up; placing her on a golden pedestal, like a goddess from heaven deigning to take a mere acolyte as consort.

Even the pet names they'd chosen for each other, to avoid using their real names as much as possible – for wasn't that a staple of folklore, that for a Witch to know your True Name was to fall into her power? – reflected the inequality of their relationship.

She called her lover "dearest," for that was what she was: the dearest, most cherished thing ever to come into her sad, lonely existence.

The other girl, in turn, called her mistress. With all the weight and meaning that implied. She made no secret that her greatest desire was to place herself totally at her partner's disposal – mind, body, and Soul Gem.

It'd certainly made for some "interesting" moments during their nights together, occasional snippets of respite snatched between missions simply to stay sane. She'd rarely engaged in even self-pleasure while she was human, and she'd always imagined her first time would be somewhat…gentler. Slow-paced. Romantic.

Certainly, she'd imagined far fewer riding crops, nipple clamps, and ball gags.

Truthfully, had she asked, she was certain the other girl would've agreed to whatever pace, positions, and attendant paraphernalia she requested. But she knew what lay at the core of her lover's heart: a deep, abiding sense that she was utterly worthless. That only by being filled with her mistress, both physically and emotionally, could she ever feel whole again.

She knew because a very similar feeling was the bedrock of her own self-image. It was pathetic, really. A textbook demonstration of the dangers of codependence.

But their mission was too important to ever get bogged down by clouds of self-doubt. So in the meantime, if what her dearest needed sometimes was a stern, unforgiving mistress, holding her fast and tight to the iron rods of discipline…

Well, she was coming to realize there was a part of her vigorously willing to oblige.

Perhaps she'd let some of what she was thinking about leak into her expression, because her lover suddenly looked incredibly excited – even more so than usual.

"Y'know, blondie's gonna be knocked out till we go fish her Soul Gem outta that river," she said, referring to their latest, sadly inconclusive experiment. "We still got time if ya wanna…well…"

Her wiggling eyebrows were as charmingly unsubtle as the rest of her typical demeanor.

As she lowered her now-empty cup, the first girl found the corner of her lip twitching slightly. "I suppose we could work that into the schedule," she whispered back, in a tone that sent a happy shiver up her lover's spine.

Then, she took her dearest by the hand, and led her unresistingly toward their bedroom.

[-]

Given everything that'd transpired, Madoka and Homura were excused from having to return to class for the rest of the day. It was just as well; the pink-haired girl very much doubted she would've been able to concentrate on algebra right now.

Hitomi had sent an email a few minutes ago, offering to bring them her notes after school. It seemed she'd be busy on that front, since apparently Sayaka and Kyoko had also failed to return to class after lunch.

"I understand Kyoko-chan, but it's not like Sayaka-chan to just ditch school," said Madoka, tapping at her chin thoughtfully. "She can be a bit mischievous, sure, but she's always been a stickler for the rules when it counts."

"Believe me, I know," Homura muttered under her breath, too low for the other girl to catch it.

"If we're waiting on your friend to get out of class, then I suppose there's no point in taking you two home yet," declared Akane, who was walking a few steps in front of them. "In that case…how about we grab a bite to eat? Best way to recover after a heavy day like this, trust me."

She emphasized the point by patting at her belly, which Homura guessed was now a fair bit rounder than when she'd first become a policewoman.

"You know, in all the…uh…excitement…" answered Madoka, shifting awkwardly. "I didn't even realize we'd skipped lunch. Homura-chan, are you hungry?"

Homura made a noncommittal noise and shrug of her shoulder. The truth was that she was never really very hungry – and these days, even less than usual – but it seemed like such a petty thing to lie about.

She'd been sincere earlier that afternoon…or at least as sincere as she ever was. Every lie she told to Madoka tore her up just a little more inside, necessary as many of them were.

She wouldn't add any more to the pile than she absolutely had to.

Thankfully, both Madoka and Akane seemed to take her grunt as a "yes," as the latter asked, "Ramen okay with you girls? There's a nice little shop near here I used to frequent with Tomo."

"Whatever's good with you, auntie," said Madoka with a smile.

A few minutes later they were pulling up into a very small parking lot, with room for only five or six cars. Akane Inoue didn't hesitate, however, pulling them into a near-perfect parallel park in a single try.

"You've definitely got mama beat on one thing, auntie," remarked the pink-haired girl as they stepped out of the nondescript black car. "Last time she had to fit in a space that small, she broke off one of our mirrors and invented twenty new swear words."

Her aunt raised an eyebrow. "Junko wouldn't have happened to be intoxicated when this incident occurred?" she murmured.

Madoka pursed her lips. "I love you auntie, I do…" she told the older woman, her eyes turned askance. "But I feel like I shouldn't answer that question in front of a cop."

True to Akane's word, the elderly woman running the noodle shop recognized her immediately, greeting the policewoman with a bow and a quick hug.

"Oh, you've grown up so much, Aka-chan!" she exclaimed with a smile. "Are you still seeing that rocker girl with the strange hair? You two were such a good match."

In response, she held up her hand and flashed a simple but well-crafted ring. "It's not legally binding, of course, but the meaning is there," said Akane. "And hopefully someday we'll have that 'legal' part squared away too."

"I'm rooting for you," replied the elderly woman, raising one wrinkled fist in support. "And who are these little angels you have at your side?"

She gestured to the two teenaged girls, bending down to get a good look at their faces.

"Oh, this is my niece, Madoka Kaname. You remember my brother Tomo? She's his daughter," Akane explained, one hand on either girl's shoulder. "As well as her…friend, Homura Akemi."

She'd spoken the words warmly, returning the older woman's kind tone, but Homura hadn't missed the small pause there. She wasn't sure exactly what it meant, but she felt her guard instinctively raise slightly.

"Ah, wonderful! I remember Tomo-kun getting engaged to that girl who drinks like a sailor, but I didn't realize they'd already raised such a pretty young thing. My, how the years fly by," said the noodle shop owner. She offered another set of bows to the two middle-schoolers. "Nice to meet you, Madoka-chan. Homura-chan. My name is Sachiko Tomoe, but you can call me whatever you like."

Homura's easily riled instincts abruptly changed targets, and she found herself sharing a quick glance with Madoka. She could tell they were both thinking the same thing.

"N…Nice to meet you, ma'am…" stuttered the pink-haired girl. "Uh…you wouldn't happen to be related to Mami Tomoe, would you?"

The mood in the room changed so quickly, it was like Madoka had flipped a switch. The smile on Sachiko's face instantly fell away, replaced by an expression that didn't look like it'd ever played host to joy.

"I'm not sure why you would bring something like that up to me right now," she whispered, now sounding every bit as exhausted as her advanced age might suggest. "Apologies, but it's still hard for me to talk about my son's family."

Madoka shrunk back in the face of the woman's sudden, inexplicable wave of sorrow, so Homura stepped in to take over.

"If it isn't too much trouble, Tomoe-sama…could you explain exactly what you mean?" she asked carefully.

Sachiko didn't answer immediately. Instead, she took quick looks to her left and right; the noodle shop wasn't very crowded, but the few other patrons that were seated around them were all staring intently.

The woman looked hesitant for a moment, then gestured for the others to join her at a table toward the back.

"You knew my granddaughter's name, so I assumed you'd read the story somewhere," she said in a low voice. "And would know that Mami-chan has been dead for three years."

[-]

Kyoko's father hadn't moved in all the time they'd taken to reach the ground floor. It only made his presence feel even more disturbing.

He didn't speak, or even acknowledge their presence, until they approached nearly close enough to touch his robes. Once they were at arm's length, his gaze abruptly snapped away from the window they'd initially spotted him through, and he met his daughter's eyes for the first time in over two years.

But easily the most disturbing thing about those eyes was how quickly they filled up with love and light.

"Oh, my dearest Kyoko! How I've missed you so," he declared. "And lo, she arose, and came to her father. But while she was still far off, her father saw her, and was moved with compassion, and ran towards her, and fell on her neck, and kissed her."

As he recited the verse, the priest opened his arms wide, in obvious expectation of a hug. Kyoko did not accept the offer.

"Prodigal Son? Really, dad?" she said with a frown. "S'not like I had a choice in runnin' away from ya. Shit like that happens when ya lose it an' kill yer whole goddamn family."

His brow furrowed slightly. "I know you were always the joking type, sweetheart, but I don't think you're being very funny right now," he responded. "Why don't we push past all this nonsense, so we can catch up. Starting with introducing me to your…companion?"

"You stay away from her!" shouted Kyoko, stepping between the two of them and spreading her arms protectively.

But the priest ignored her protestations, peering around his daughter in order to greet the blue-haired girl.

"We are well-met, young miss," he told her, offering a disarmingly gentle smile. "I am Father Joji Sakura. My apologies for my daughter's rudeness."

"It's…no trouble…" muttered Sayaka, uncertain what else to say. She looked to her roommate for guidance and found Kyoko shaking her head vigorously, as if no good could possibly come from engaging with this man.

But he seemed determined to force the issue, nevertheless. "I must confess that I saw the two of you a little while ago. Through the window," said Joji. "There is the requisite protectiveness I feel I must express as a father, of course. Especially given your age. But beyond that, to see something so…so…"

Sayaka involuntarily flinched. She knew it was stupid, after everything she'd heard about this guy, to worry how he felt about this. But what little she knew about Christianity told her it wasn't a religion famous for looking kindly on…well…

What they'd just done.

Which is why it surprised her so much when his smile turned even more serene, almost dreamlike, and he finished, "So wonderful…"

"Wait, what?" even Kyoko was unable to keep herself from asking. "The fuck are ya on about?"

The priest didn't even chastise his daughter for her coarse language; he was just too pleased.

"It warms my heart to see love expressed, whatever the form. And I have no doubt the Lord would agree," he explained matter-of-factly. "Please don't tell me you've forgotten my teachings so quickly, Kyoko. Faith is a journey, not a destination. If it fails to advance with the times, it becomes rigid and stale. A few scribblings in Leviticus, writ by the hands of men to align with the society around them, pale in comparison to the reality of God's love. Which shines in every consenting kiss and gentle touch – man or woman."

If Sayaka hadn't been forewarned that this man was a murderous nutjob, she'd have sworn he was actually pretty cool.

Still, she thought back to the story Kyoko had told her. He'd been kicked out of his Church for preaching stuff that wasn't in the Bible, right? This must've been part of that.

"Look, dad. Appreciate all the support, really," said Kyoko dryly. "But let's stop beatin' 'round the fuckin' bush, alright? Why the hell're ya here? How the hell're ya still alive?"

There was a single, silent beat in the wake of these words. Then Joji let out a hearty chuckle.

"Such imagination. It was always your greatest quality, Kyoko," he declared. "But those stuffed shirts couldn't kill me by stripping me of my ordainment. They only blessed myself and my congregation with even greater strength. A strength I will use to bring my teachings to the world."

He glanced backward, toward the road, then continued, "And as for your first question…I just thought it might be nice if you joined us for a little family drive. Your companion can come too, of course. Your mother and Momo are waiting in the car."

The moment the latter name passed from the priest's lips, Kyoko lost any vestiges of self-control. "Don't you dare!" she bellowed, advancing on her father. "Don't ya dare say her goddamn name, ya fuckin' sonuva…!"

But those shouts faded away in an instant as, in a rage, the redhead took a sharp swing at her father's jaw.

And connected only with empty air.

Sayaka blinked, and when her eyes opened again, Joji Sakura was gone. Kyoko was just standing there with her fist extended, her body still twisted halfway through the motion of a punch.

"What…the hell…" she panted out, slowly turning her head to look back at her roommate. Her expression was desperate, imploring, seeking validation that she wasn't going crazy. "I mean…he was…you saw him too, didn't…?"

"He was here," said Sayaka, nodding in confirmation even as a chill ran up and down her entire body. "Or at least…I thought he was."

But it occurred to her, in that moment, that "Joji Sakura" had never actually responded to anything she'd said.

[-]

The four women sat around a shabby wooden table, sipping at piping hot bowls of ramen the cooks had provided free of charge.

"My son, Tetsu, was a simple man. A good man, but one content to stay out of the spotlight. He worked at the same bank for twenty-eight years," Sachiko began her story. "My daughter-in-law, Mikage, was different. She was a politician, and a very talented one at that. About sixteen years ago, she was elected to the National Diet to represent Mitakihara, with an overwhelming majority."

"I remember her," said Akane, as she swallowed a small piece of gyoza. "Heck, I voted for her – thrice. But I never made the mental connection with the surnames."

"The two had a daughter, Mami-chan, who was just the sweetest thing," the old woman went on, her voice faltering slightly when she spoke the name. "Then, one day, when Mami-chan was just twelve, the whole family took a drive to a fundraiser. And…"

The words fell away, as Sachiko released a long, shuddering breath. Madoka instinctively placed a hand across her wrinkled arm, to which she offered a small smile – though it disappeared the moment she began speaking again.

"There was nothing remarkable about the accident, really. If one of the passengers hadn't been a public figure, it would've been just like a thousand others that happen every week," she told them, without meeting any of their eyes. "The news covered it briefly, since Mikage's sudden death threw a wrench in the passage of an important bill. But it fell off the headlines by the next day."

"I'm so sorry, Tomoe-sama," whispered Madoka, biting her lip. She wasn't sure the question in her head was appropriate to ask now, but the need to delve deeper, to understand, was gnawing away at her. "But, umm…were they sure all three of them died?"

"Admittedly…the only bodies recovered from the road belonged to Tetsu and Mikage," Sachiko replied, her tones still low and somber. "For a little while, we held out hope. But searches around the area turned up nothing. Unfortunately, they'd crashed right by a sheer drop, overlooking a waterway. The investigators ultimately concluded she'd been thrown from the point of impact, landed in the water, and washed away."

She buried her aged face inside her palms, her breaths coming out in shuddering rasps.

"It was hard enough…cremating my own son. The woman I loved like a daughter," she said. "But…for Mami-chan…even that was…"

Madoka looked to her friend, feeling utterly helpless. She knew what she had to say – the information this grieving woman needed to hear, come what may afterward – but she felt about as equipped to navigate that conversation as she would fighting Godzilla.

Fortunately, as she always did, Homura came to her rescue. "Please, ma'am. I have no interest in adding to your grief, so I'll just come out and say it," she cut in, her voice staid and unwavering. "Mami Tomoe is a schoolmate of ours. She's as alive as I am."

Sachiko's hands fell to the table with an audible thump, and her entire body stiffened like a board.

"Wh…What…?" she gasped out, her voice barely louder than the dim hum of the air conditioner.

"She is a ninth grader at Mitakihara Middle School. You can check the class registry if you wish to confirm," Homura continued on. "Both Madoka and myself are…acquainted with her. I wouldn't say that we are 'friends,' exactly. But we conversed with her just yesterday."

"That…can't be…" said Sachiko, still looking askance. "Someone would've noticed…would've told me…"

"I can't claim to know all the details of her situation, ma'am. But let me give you my best guess," Homura spoke again, a bit more gently. "Perhaps she was thrown from the car, but managed to survive. Perhaps, by the time she made it back to civilization, she realized that her parents were gone, and she'd missed her own funeral. Perhaps, overcome by despair…she used that opportunity to leave her old life behind."

The elderly woman blinked tears away as she listened to these words, barely seeming to comprehend them.

"I won't try to explain or justify her choice. Just offer it as a theory," added the raven-haired girl, after a brief pause. "If there's one thing I've learned over the years…it's just how little one person can truly understand the grief of another."

The way she spoke that last part struck Madoka as a little odd. It was just one of the many things Homura said which made her seem far, far older than her fourteen years.

She'd come to accept that Homura was simply that sort of person – what her father called "an old soul." One who thought through things, who ruminated on the nature of the universe and humanity's place in it, far more than a typical teen.

Not that Madoka had a problem with it, of course. Sure, being around Homura when she got all philosophical could be a bit…intimidating. There was no question her friend dwarfed her intellectually.

But there were times, like this one, where her natural pensiveness was greatly welcome. Madoka wouldn't have known what to say, to cut through this woman's overwhelming sorrow. Wouldn't have been able to really put herself in Sachiko Tomoe's shoes. Her life, frankly, was simply too idyllic. She'd never known what it felt like to truly suffer.

Homura understood. Madoka could see it in the depths of her indigo eyes. To someone who didn't know the brunette very well, they might seem entirely unchanged, but Madoka could see the barest shift in the way they looked upon the anguished woman.

For someone as stoic as Homura Akemi, that shift was the equivalent of a thousand fallen tears.

Thinking back on the story Homura had told her – losing her parents so young, growing up alone – she suddenly wondered whether the other girl had just been referring to Mami-sempai when she talked about "leaving her old life behind."

"Can…" said Sachiko after some time, as she dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. "Can I ask you something, child?"

"Of course," Homura answered immediately, if shortly.

"You say you know her by the name 'Mami Tomoe'? With these characters?" asked the woman, taking a pen from her pocket and drawing the hiragana as best she could onto the tear-soaked napkin.

Both girls scrutinized the characters for a few moments, before nodding. Madoka remembered seeing the name on the blonde's student ID yesterday, when she'd helped carry her to the nurse's office.

For a moment, Sachiko Tomoe neither said anything nor moved a muscle. Then, slowly, she let out a deep breath of relief.

"Then I can hold onto a small sliver of hope," she said, something like a smile appearing across her lips for the first time since they'd mentioned Mami's name. "Because if your theory is correct, dear…then Mami-chan had a perfect chance to erase her old identity, and chose not to. She chose to enroll under her real name – the name she shares with me, and the rest of her family."

The old woman placed both hands in her lap, now looking remarkably at peace. "How else can I interpret that…but as a cry for help?" she murmured. "Perhaps she was too scared, too traumatized, to reach out on her own. But she left the door open so that we could find her. And I for one won't let it slam shut again."

Before they could get a word in edgewise, Sachiko was already telling them, calmly but firmly, "Please take me to her. Please."

In retrospect, Madoka felt she really should've seen the request coming. Yet she felt ill-equipped to even begin answering it. In theory, the reunion of this grief-stricken woman with her long-lost grandchild was the type of miracle that only happened in movies. But maybe that was why she felt a bit hesitant.

Neither she nor Homura had shared anything about Mami-sempai's "delicate" condition. About the memory losses, the blackouts. About how just yesterday, the older girl had worked herself into such hysterics that she'd collapsed.

Madoka was easily capable of imagining a scenario where this could go…badly. Particularly if it took place at or near school.

Thankfully, before Madoka could even begin scraping together a proper response, Homura swooped to the rescue once more.

"I'm sorry…but I can't advise that as your first step. Remember that when it comes to her decisions and the reasoning behind them, we're working purely from assumptions," she said coolly. "But if you're willing to place your trust in Madoka and myself, then I have another suggestion."

"You'd speak to her on my behalf?" guessed Sachiko, her voice coming out hoarse. "Would you girls…really do that for me…?"

"We could go right now, as a matter of fact," declared the brunette. "I brought Mami Tomoe her homework once when she was sick. I know where she lives."

"Err…are you sure that's such a good idea, Akemi-san?" Akane asked, frowning. "Especially if your visit is unannounced. Couldn't you just meet up with her at school?"

"As I stated before, her reaction to this news depends on far too many unknowns," responded Homura, without missing a beat. "Out of deference to her privacy, I think it's best we avoid risking a scene in public."

"I suppose you've got a point there," the policewoman was forced to admit. "Well, I'm still not entirely certain about this plan of yours…but I can see there's little chance of me stopping you. So the least I can do is provide the ride."

She laid down her chopsticks next to her nearly empty bowl, then pulled out her purse and began rummaging through it.

"I know you said this was on the house, Tomoe-sama, but please. Let me give you something," she said, already holding out a handful of bills. But the older woman waved them away firmly.

"If these girls can accomplish what they're promising…then you're giving me something worth more than a thousand free meals," Sachiko rasped, her golden eyes directed at her folded fingers.

Seeing that there was no arguing with the elderly woman, Akane stood up and bowed again, even more deeply. Both Madoka and Homura did the same, gratefully offering their thanks for the food – though Madoka couldn't help but notice, as they walked away, that the raven-haired girl had barely touched her own bowl.

Still, there was another mystery that required her attention far more than her gorgeous friend's lack of an appetite. As they left Sachiko Tomoe behind and began making their way back to her aunt's car, Madoka pulled Homura aside for a whispered question.

"Homura-chan, I just realized…" she muttered, glancing to make sure Akane was far enough away that she couldn't overhear. "Why would you have brought Mami-sempai her homework? She's a grade above us."

The brunette pursed her lips, not meeting Madoka's eyes. But to her credit, this time, she didn't evade the question.

"That was a lie, Madoka. One I expected neither your aunt nor Tomoe-sama would know enough about our school to catch," said Homura. "In fact, a great deal of what I told her was a lie. The truth wasn't something I'm either willing or able to divulge to just anyone…even a grieving grandmother."

"Then…what is the truth?" Madoka couldn't help but ask. Even though there was something in Homura's tone that didn't entirely make her want to know.

The other girl took another glance at their chaperone, who was futzing with something in the trunk. Then, while barely moving her lips, she answered.

"Come with me to Mami Tomoe's apartment, and I'll show you."

[-]

A short distance away from Mitakihara Middle School, on the roof of a radio building that overlooked its entrance, a young girl looked upon the confused Sayaka and Kyoko with a smirk of smug satisfaction.

Without taking her eyes off the middle-schoolers, she draped herself over another girl, who wore no expression at all.

"You're a lot more talented with that borrowed power than I expected," the first girl cooed, giggling a bit. "That was one hell of an illusion for your first time."

"I'm cheating, a bit," said the second girl, as she calmly and coldly absorbed her two-handed sword back into her body. A violet butterfly briefly glowed on its hilt as it disappeared. "The magic I gained from your sister lets me manipulate minds and memories. The redheaded girl has an illusion power as well – far more potent than Kagari did. Even if she doesn't consciously realize it."

"Ah, I gotcha. So you're, like…using her as a server, kinda?" asked the smaller girl, her lip curling as she leaned in closer against her partner's neck. She got a perverse pang of delight from feeling how the skin heated up at her touch. "Oh, you're so clever! I made the right choice in who to Awaken…my darling."

The second girl tugged absently at a lock of her silver hair, emotion finally creeping into her features – in the form of a light blush.

"You're a lot more…forward than I remember you being. Though I suppose we didn't have a lot of 'normal' time together," she observed, looking away briefly. "And of course, we can't make up for that lost time now. The mission's too important."

"That's what I admire so much about you, Suzune-chan," spoke the first girl, deftly dodging the original question. "You're so dedicated. But don't you worry. That magic in your sword is exactly the weapon we need against our enemies. After all…"

"After all, they are still Magical Girls," the girl called Suzune finished for her. "Which means they'll eventually become Witches. Even if they can't remember. I won't let that be their fate."

She pulled her partner close, then said, her voice uncharacteristically tender, "I won't let that be your fate, Matsuri."

The smaller girl smiled brightly, accepting the affection for several seconds before pulling away, bouncing playfully upon the soles of her feet. It felt so good to be loved.

Of course, her real name was no more "Matsuri" than it was "Nagisa."

Oh, yes. Suzune Amano was going to work out splendidly as her new plaything. Far more than that useless bimbo ever could.

Her own magic could only control a single person at a time. While posing as Nagisa Momoe, she'd actually needed to wear a white wig and dress in clothes made for someone half her age, to make sure there was no discrepancy between the girl in real life and the one her "guardian" imagined in her head. Sure, they technically fit her petite frame, but if anyone felt like pointing that out she'd have to cut a bitch.

But now, she had a pawn who could manipulate other people's perceptions of reality, even their memories, with the snap of her fingers. As an opponent, it would make her – and by extension Kagari Hinata, who was probably wandering somewhere around Akanegasaki that very moment, blissfully ignorant of her true power – a fright to behold.

As a servant, though? It would make her nearly unstoppable.

This was a brave new world, in the wake of what that bitch had done. But slowly but surely, she was gathering the weapons to topple her from her throne.

And to install herself in her place.

Soon enough, all of Japan…all of the world…would acknowledge that she was the strongest of all. Not a single human or Magical Girl or fucking bunny-cat would look down on her again.

She glanced toward the silver-haired girl standing across the rooftop. Ready to strike against the next target her "dear friend" chose, like a loyal attack-dog.

Then, her eyes drifted to the suitcase she'd been wheeling around all day. The one that contained the lifeless body of the real Nagisa Momoe. Insurance, as they say.

Yes…weapons, indeed. And she was far from done collecting.

Just for a moment, she allowed herself a high-pitched, vicious cackle. The kind that would never leave the lips of Matsuri Hinata. But that was alright – she'd already compelled Suzune into tweaking her own memory, just slightly, so that any imperfections in her performance would be glossed over in a haze of romantic affection.

"Get ready, girlies…" she whispered, in a voice too low for the other Magical Girl to catch. "To serve Sasa Yuki as your one and only queen."