Spider Lilies – Time and Time Again

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.

[-]

"Thank you both for coming to talk with me today," said the therapist, gesturing for both girls to sit down. She was a very pretty woman, with bright blue eyes and hair a similar shade to Madoka's, though she wore it considerably longer. "You may call me Doctor Tenjou."

As they were bid, Madoka and Homura each took seats on the office's couch – albeit at opposite ends. A small part of Madoka's brain entertained the stray thought that their bodies could be a little closer together, at which point it was promptly beaten into submission by the much stronger part that was mortified by such things.

Yes, after having spent all of yesterday with those less-than-savory desires more or less under control, they'd come rearing back in full force on the car ride here.

She wasn't sure what'd sparked things back up. For a little while there, in the wake of all the incredibly serious stuff they were dealing with – from Homura's "suicide attempt" to investigating the mystery of Mami-sempai – the butterflies in her stomach and heat in her skin had mercifully retreated. It seemed her treacherous subconscious at least had some standards.

Perhaps it was the look in Homura's eye, since their visit to Mami-sempai's apartment. Usually so disinterested in the world around her, there was now…a determination there, which hadn't yet faded in the twentyish hours that'd since passed. That look had been there before, but only in fleeting glimpses, like little peeks beneath her mask of apathy.

It made Madoka's cheeks burn horribly to think about, but there was no denying how hot she found that look.

Alternatively, it could have to do with how Homura was dressed. They'd been given another day of leave from school to attend this first therapy session, and the raven-haired girl had clearly taken advantage of the opportunity to distance herself from her uniform.

The outfit was black, sleek. It didn't have all that many frills or accessories, but it also hardly needed them. Really, with as much of her…ahem…"assets" as the dress happened to emphasize, it seemed the sort of thing no fourteen-year-old girl had any business wearing.

Madoka's day had been a near-endless loop of staring at her friend, realizing she was doing so, hurriedly averting her gaze to pretty much anything else, and then, inevitably, finding her eyes drifting back to start the cycle all over again.

Finally, there was always the possibility that the goodbye kiss she'd witnessed between her aunts this morning was to blame. That amount of tongue-swapping was totally unbecoming of sworn officers of the law! She'd committed every second of it to memory to enshrine just how scandalous it was!

Yeah…that was the reason.

Without explaining why to either Homura or the doctor, Madoka found herself hanging her head. She'd never been so prudish about that sort of thing before. Sure, she wasn't exactly the most comfortable person in the world about sex, but still…

Ever since acknowledging these…feelings, any hint of same-gender romance was all but guaranteed to set her heart pounding and her cheeks flaming. On the drive here Auntie Shion had flipped on one of her favorite CDs, from a punk band called the Black Stones.

Three notes in, and all Madoka could think about was her mom gossiping once about her suspicions regarding the lead singer and her "roommate."

Maybe she was being paranoid, but it almost felt like the world was conspiring to keep her as off-balance as possible. What other explanation was there, when they'd already witnessed three proposals on the way here today? Two pairs of women, and one of men.

Seriously, what were the odds of that? Especially in a culture as sedate and conservative as Japan?

Madoka bit her trembling lip. She felt awful for even thinking such a thing. For each of those couples, this must be among the happiest days of their lives. She'd smiled and clapped politely along with the crowds, where appropriate. She'd wanted to be supportive, with all her heart.

But by the time the third woman took a bended knee, in the coffee shop where Auntie Shion had stopped off for her morning pick-me-up, it was really hard not to feel as if the universe was telling her to take a hint.

"Kaname-san? Did you hear what I said?" asked the doctor, cutting through her reverie. Madoka briefly shook her head, shifting awkwardly as she slowly realized both of the other women were staring at her. How many times had she missed the question?

"I understand there's a lot for you to take in right now," Doctor Tenjou added sympathetically, folding her hands and smiling gently at the pair. "I'll repeat myself: it's important to keep in mind that healing is a process. You won't revolutionize the issues deep within your heart in a single session. But if you're willing to take that journey – and if you're willing to help one another, each step of the way – then there's no limit to what you girls can achieve. In fact…"

But here, she had to pause, as the phone on her desk rang out. The rose-haired woman looked a little cross at the interruption, but answered it after the first few rings.

"Honey…yes, of course it's good to hear from you, but…no, sorry, I'm with clients right now. I'll have to take a rain check," she said into the receiver. "Yes, you can come to the office once the hour is up. Now…yes, I have to hang up now, dear. Love you too."

She placed the phone back in its cradle, then turned back to the two girls with a look of apology.

"Sorry about that. Just my wife trying to take me to lunch," she explained. "I've told her a hundred times not to call during sessions. Now…shall we get started?"

…Seriously, what were the odds?!

[-]

Sayaka sat in her chair in the middle of the classroom, twiddling a pen between her fingers and taking in very little of the teacher's lecture on fiscal policy during the Meiji era.

She was, frankly, thinking far more about the empty desk behind her, one seat to her right. As well as the remarkable coincidence of the chair two rows ahead and four to her right also being unoccupied.

Neither Madoka nor that Akemi girl had been seen since homeroom yesterday, when the latter had complained of illness and been escorted by the former to the nurse's office. On its own, Sayaka might not have thought much of that fact.

But combined with Akemi's squirrelly behavior during their meeting behind the gym? Combined with how little she already didn't trust the aloof, mysterious girl?

And combined with – much as she tried to push them out of her brain as nothing more than silly gossip – the insinuations Kyoko had made about Akemi's real intentions for her best friend?

Add in the fact that the pair were still reeling from their apparent shared hallucination of Kyoko's filicidal old man, and…well, Sayaka wasn't sure exactly what was going on at this school.

But she was pretty damn confident Homura Akemi was at the center of it.

She'd broached the subject to her roommate on the way to school today, but as usual Kyoko was a lot more interested in the cafeteria's lunch menu than on investigating any mysteries. At least…to all outward appearances.

Sayaka glanced to the side, where the redhead was sitting a few rows away, not even pretending to pay attention as she gamed on her laptop and snuck chips from a bag underneath her desk. At first glance, she was wearing the same lazy, carefree expression that she always did.

And yet…maybe it was a function of living in the same bedroom as someone for over a month, but Sayaka could see just how much of that crumb-crusted face was a mask. Yesterday's events had deeply freaked them both out – and Sayaka was the only person in this room who'd watched the redhead toss and turn for hours last night, drenched with sweat and mumbling pleas under her breath.

There was, a small voice reminded her, now something she could do to comfort the poor girl. But she forced that voice back down, deep.

They hadn't done…that again, since that first confused, awful, wonderful time in the hallway. Hadn't even discussed it. No matter how much a not-insignificant part of her wanted to.

In the wake of what'd happened afterward, they simply hadn't found the time. Not that Kyoko was willing to discuss that either, of course. Hell, they'd barely shared three words upon returning home, before the redhead dismissed herself to catch up on anime. They'd even eaten dinner separately, which they almost never did.

It was enough to make Sayaka a little resentful. Kyoko had kissed her, after all. And she was the one at the center of…whatever was going on here. Her working theory was that Mitakihara Middle School was secretly built over an ancient burial ground.

And then, of course, that brief impulse of resentment only made Sayaka feel even worse. Because Kyoko was clearly wrestling, possibly literally, with the ghosts of her past; a past so horrific, the blue-haired girl couldn't even begin to imagine coping with it.

All she wanted, really and truly, was to make the pain her roommate was feeling go away. But apart from getting to the bottom of how everything – the mass-memory loss, Father Sakura's apparition, everything to do with Homura Akemi – fit together, Sayaka was at a loss for how to do so.

Short of…well, yeah. That thing.

But if Kyoko was barely speaking to her, then she clearly wasn't interested in either solution. And Sayaka wasn't going to force the issue if she wasn't wanted.

The blue-haired girl placed a palm across her face and silently groaned. How was it that kissing her friend only seemed to have driven them further apart?

[-]

"Now, since we've only got an hour for this session, Akemi-san, I hope you don't mind if we jump straight to the core issue," said Doctor Tenjou, holding up a clipboard and pen. "But I should preface by assuring you that, at any time, you can refuse to answer my questions if they get too personal. Or, if it's a matter that you'd prefer to discuss in complete confidence…Kaname-san, I hope you won't mind if you are occasionally asked to leave the room?"

Madoka was about to answer that, of course she wouldn't mind, but Homura spoke up first, "There is nothing you could ask that I don't want Madoka to hear. She's the only reason I'm here at all."

The therapist nodded knowingly. "I can see why your school administration recommended you two see me together, at least for this first session," she responded. "You're clearly very close."

"Closer than I've ever been with anyone," Homura declared firmly. "Madoka is, and remains, my one and only friend."

The pink-haired girl had two immediate reactions to this statement. The first was an instinctual, visceral impulse to contradict the brunette; to assure her that, of course, the girl in their grade with the best test scores, multiple broken records in athletics, and looks on par with an international supermodel must have plenty of friends. Right?

But then, on the other hand…when Madoka thought back to their interactions over the course of the past month, how many other people did Homura really spend time with?

Sure, there were lots of boys and girls alike who complimented her on her hair, or lavished praise on her stellar grades. But they never stayed, did they? Never ate lunch with the gorgeous girl, or went out to karaoke, or played video games.

Even when the whole "group" hung out, Homura tended not to interact with anyone but Madoka. Her relationships were neutral at best with Kyoko, Hitomi, and Kyosuke, and she and Sayaka made no secret of how little they particularly cared for one another.

No one else ever got to see Homura Akemi smile, or laugh, or make a total mess trying to scarf down a double-decker cheeseburger. Just her.

Which, incidentally, brought things around to her second reaction to Homura's words. And of this, Madoka was more embarrassed than of anything else.

But she couldn't deny the small, but very vocal part of her mind, that heard the words "one and only friend" and took them as a stab to the gut.

She knew it was illogical. Stupid. Unbelievably selfish. If her suspicions were correct, and Homura really was as isolated as her words implied, then to be her friend was clearly a special and wondrous thing. And a friend was clearly what the poor, lonesome girl needed right now.

Yet the part of her that yearned to be so, so much more simply wouldn't shut the heck up.

This was, Madoka felt ashamed to admit, how a great deal of the session would turn out to unfold. She wanted to pay attention to what the therapist was saying, to offer input and support whenever Homura was uncomfortable with a question, but she was so stuck in her own head that she kept tuning out.

Every once in a while, though, either doctor or patient would say something that jostled her back to Earth. The next time this happened, it was a quiet admission from Homura.

"No…this was not the first time I've experienced suicidal ideation," said the raven-haired girl, her eyes turned away. "But it's always been brief, and fleeting. I have something in this world far more important to live for."

"And…" Doctor Tenjou prodded carefully. "I suppose you would prefer…"

"I would prefer not to discuss that further," Homura confirmed with a nod, cutting the psychiatrist off. "Please just know that I have an ironclad reason for continuing on. So long as it holds firm, I am no danger to myself."

Homura still didn't turn her head all the way, but Madoka was sure she didn't imagine it twitch in her direction, just for a moment.

She understood the implication immediately. Obviously Homura was talking about her mission – the secret life and secret powers she'd chosen to share with her yesterday. Madoka still could scarcely believe the other girl had confided in her something so important, but in a strange way it made her feel…special.

She remembered the words they'd exchanged the previous day, in the empty apartment of Mami Tomoe.

[-]

"I was afraid of this," said Homura. She was cupping her face with her left hand, while the other moved slowly through the air, almost as if she was "scanning" the room.

"Wh…What is it, Homura-chan?" Madoka asked timidly. "Afraid" wasn't a word she heard very often out of her confident friend, even figuratively, and combined with the total silence in the apartment it had the pink-haired girl exceedingly nervous. "Do you, uh…sense…something?"

She'd only learned the brunette had literal magic powers a few hours ago, and she still wasn't quite sure how to talk about them.

Fortunately, Homura seemed to have no trouble determining her meaning, as she replied, "Magic has been used here very recently. The traces are all over, but I don't think it was Mami Tomoe that did it. Which means…it's likely she's been taken."

It took Madoka several moments to put two and two together. Then, she gasped aloud.

"You…You mean…" she murmured. "Mami-sempai is…?"

"She has similar powers to mine, yes," Homura cut her off, nodding once. "But recent events have led me to conclude that, for one reason or another…she's lost all memory of her magic. Which makes her an easy target for enemies."

"So all those gaps in her memory…" the pink-haired girl continued to puzzle through things out-loud. "Going back three years! To the accident her grandma talked about!"

"Very likely, that was the day she gained her abilities," said Homura. "If all her memories involving such matters have been altered, it would explain her intense psychological damage."

Madoka frowned as she realized something else. "Wait…hold on…" she spoke softly. "When you say 'enemies'…"

The other girl didn't answer for several moments. When she did, her tones were slow and deliberate, as if careful not to reveal too much.

"Not all of us who are…like me…are friends, Madoka," she attempted to explain. "Power has a way of driving people apart, far more easily than it brings them together. That was one of the first lessons I learned after gaining it."

"Oh…I see…" mumbled Madoka, unable to keep from feeling a little deflated. In these sorts of stories, she'd always preferred when heroes teamed up against a common foe. Now that she was more or less living one, it was disheartening to think of people like Homura or Mami-sempai having to fight each other.

"And it's especially concerning because Mami Tomoe was, last I was aware, taking custody of another girl with magical potential," Homura went on, apparently oblivious to her gloom. "Nagisa Momoe, age eight. She is also an individual of…concern."

"Girl with magic…" Madoka repeated quietly. "You mean, like…a Magical Girl? Like Sailor Moon or Cardcaptor Sakura?"

There was no mistaking the way Homura instinctually bristled at the allusions. Madoka drooped a little further. Given how much the raven-haired girl professed to love manga, she'd thought to frame things with the only examples she knew offhand, but she supposed those must not be among Homura's favorites. Too "mainstream," maybe?

Still, eventually, the other girl said, "That is…one way to describe what we are, I suppose. We wield magic, and we are all female. But I've never cared for the term. It sanitizes what we do. What we are."

"Wh…Which is?" asked Madoka.

"Soldiers," Homura answered immediately, her tones grave and solemn. "Soldiers who battle one another for the pettiest of reasons. In a conflict with no point, and no end."

"Then…" Madoka breathed out, biting her lip. "How can you stand to keep going on?"

Homura turned away from her, facing the wall, her head hung low. When she spoke again, it was with an air of finality, making it clear – even if it wasn't explicitly said – that these would be her final words on the subject.

"Because I have something worth fighting for."

[-]

Homura was being remarkably candid with the rose-haired therapist, at least by her standards. But Doctor Tenjou would never, could never, know the full story.

Madoka, alone among the people in her life, understood.

That fighting alone, in a secret world full of magical horrors, had taken a long and heavy toll upon Homura Akemi's psyche.

Which left Madoka with only one choice. She wasn't sure how difficult it would be, or what price it was cost. But she was prepared to sacrifice whatever was necessary to find out.

If the girl she…cared for, was suffering in loneliness as she fought through the darkness…

Then Madoka would do whatever it took to join her.

[-]

"Okay, okay, you can drop the scandalized face," said Sayaka, more than a bit irritably. "I need advice, alright? Not judgment."

Hitomi Shizuki, for her part, was trying to be supportive of her dear friend. But every time she opened her mouth to offer words to that effect, all that came out was a high-pitched, keening sound.

The pair was sitting in a secluded part of campus as they ate their lunch, Sayaka explaining what'd happened yesterday – minus the maybe-maybe-not ghost story – between quick bites. Honestly, she would've preferred discussing this with Madoka, but…

Well, this seemed like the kind of conversation that had to take place in person.

"I, umm…I…you see…that…that is…I…" was the word-salad that eventually tumbled from the green-haired girl's lips. "I…I mean…Sakura-san, of all g…girls…?"

"For the thousandth time, yes," responded Sayaka. "We kissed in the hallway yesterday. Well…okay, she kissed me. But I didn't exactly fight her off. Maybe I probably should've, but…deep-down, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what I wanted. What I think I've been wanting for weeks now."

Hitomi opened her mouth again, but the keening sound just came out even worse.

"Look, I know you've got some sorta complex about this for…damn if I know what reason. I heard what you said when Azuma and Ichinose in 1-A came out," said Sayaka, filling in the lull. "But this is me, Hitomi. We've been friends since we were waist-high. Can't you put all that aside and just be there for me?"

"I d…don't have a c…complex…" stuttered Hitomi, completely and utterly not helping her case.

Sayaka rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, sure you don't," she remarked impatiently. "Look, I try not to take your whole 'girls can't love girls' thing too personally. But right now it's really hard not to. Because even if this is the first time I've done anything about it…"

She took a deep breath, before finishing, "I…I do. Like girls, I mean. And guys. I've known that for a while now."

Hitomi's lip was quivering. "I…I don't mean anything by it…" she mumbled, averting her eyes. "It's just…how I was raised. Father's old-fashioned, you know? And…And mother…"

"Wait…so this 'forbidden love' crap is from them?" demanded Sayaka, her brow furrowed. She'd met Tohru and Yuko Shizuki, plenty of times over. Sure, they were definitely a "traditional" sort of couple. Probably closer to the conservative end of the political spectrum. They still had their daughter doing tea ceremony lessons, for crying out loud.

But to her, they'd always been nothing but genial and welcoming, if perhaps a little patronizing on occasion. That was inevitable, when they had more money squared away in investments than her parents made in a year.

It pricked at her, in a distinctly uncomfortable way, that they might wind up treating her differently if they happened to learn of her…preferences.

"It's not like they were going around, telling me t…to hate anyone…" said Hitomi, the very word sounding foreign on her excessively formal tongue. "But they've always been very strict about things like…like gender roles. In relationships, men have their place, and women have another. That's…a cornerstone of Japanese society…"

If it were anyone else saying these things, Sayaka might've been tempted to punch them across the jaw. But she knew Hitomi, inside and out, and she could tell she was only parroting back words she'd heard elsewhere. There was no real conviction in her tone, and her body language was tense and evasive.

In fact…

"How'd it even come up?" she asked, watching her friend's posture for a reaction. When Hitomi very nearly had a spasm, she let out a low gasp of realization. "You didn't…"

Hitomi pulled her legs toward her chest, suddenly looking very small. She stared blankly forward for several moments, thinking. Then, slowly, she nodded her head.

"You…can't tell anyone about this. Not even Madoka-chan, and definitely not Kyosuke," she whispered to her friend. "Do I have your word, Sayaka-chan?"

"Of course," Sayaka quickly replied.

The green-haired girl took a deep, steadying breath. Then she told Sayaka, "Do you remember a couple days ago? When those two figure skaters were k…kissing? Sakura-san brought up that the CEO of Future Industries announced her engagement to her g…g…girlfriend?"

"Yeah…I remember…" said Sayaka, unsure where she was going with this. She chose not to call out her out for stammering over the gayest words; baby steps, after all.

"Well…the CEO in question? She was…" Hitomi mumbled, her hands shaking so much they seemed likely to fall off her arms at any time. "M…My first kiss."

Sayaka's mouth went wide, like an "O." She leaned in closer, her tone inching toward conspiratorial. "Get outta town," she breathed out.

"We met at a party. This was two years ago," the rich girl explained. "It was a gathering of heirs and heiresses from all across the world, held in Paris. The Cavendishes, the Edelfelts, the Schnees. She was there representing the Satos – probably the only other Japanese there. Well…except for those boys from Ouran, of course. But I shouldn't have to explain why I stayed clear of them."

Honestly, she probably did, but Sayaka really wasn't interested in prying.

"I had just turned twelve, so I think my parents brought me – at least in part – to see if they could match me with any marriageable prospects. If so, that backfired tremendously," Hitomi continued on. "She must've been…seventeen at the time. But she looked even older. She drew my eyes like nothing I'd ever seen before."

Sayaka remembered her own first "girl-crush" well, and could recognize the signs. Though admittedly, since hers had been on an anime character, it wasn't entirely the same thing.

"Because of the age difference, there was never any chance she'd reciprocate. I must have seemed an annoying little kid, tagging along with her for no explicable reason," said the green-haired girl, sighing despite herself with something that might've been wistfulness. "But she was kind, and she let me tag along. Throughout the entire party she doted on me, sharing jokes and passing me sweets when no one was looking."

"And then, when the party was over…" murmured Sayaka, catching on to where this was going.

"I…I did it," Hitomi admitted, after a brief pause. "I don't know what I was thinking. But this beautiful girl had been so nice to me, and made me feel so special. So before I knew it, I was standing on my tip-toes, and I leaned in, and…and…"

She was too embarrassed to finish the sentence, but she hardly needed to.

"Afterward, she sat me down, and told me – with that smile that melted my heart – that she was simply too old for me. But that she was immensely flattered by my…affections," spoke Hitomi, her voice now coming out somewhat hollow and distant. "She assured me that somewhere in the world, a girl or boy was out there who perfectly matched my soul. And though it saddened me to hear those words, if that was all that transpired…that might have been the end of it."

"Let me guess…" said Sayaka, wearing a sympathetic frown. "Your dad…no. Your mom saw the whole thing."

"Just about," Hitomi answered hollowly. "She lectured me for hours that night. About how this was no way for the only daughter of the Shizuki line to behave. That one day I would be obligated to marry a man of good breeding, and that she couldn't risk me…despoiling myself. With desires that were deviant and unclean."

Without meaning to, Sayaka felt her hand form a fist.

"So when I see two men, or two women, being amorous with one another…that's the night I think of. I can't help it," stated the rich girl. Emotion had returned to her eyes – which were now profoundly wet. "I…I'm so sorry, Sayaka-chan. I don't want to seem like I'm judging you. I just…can't push it out of my mind."

"Shhh…it's okay, Hitomi. Seriously, it's okay," Sayaka attempted to soothe her friend. She pulled her into a quick, but warm hug.

"B…But…" whimpered Hitomi, leaning into the embrace. "Wh…What would Kyosuke think? If he learned that I had…that I was…"

"Kyosuke's no homophobe. You heard literally just yesterday how he thought I was gay most of our lives, right?" said Sayaka. That one still smarted, if she was being honest with herself…but she was trying to be a supportive friend right now. "Point is, he was all for it. So you don't have anything to worry about on his end."

Hitomi slowly pulled away and looked up at her, dabbing at her tears with a dainty little handkerchief. God, how was it she managed to look so perfect even when she was crying?

"Are…Are you sure…?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Look, Hitomi…if your parents are gonna stick their heads in the sand about this, then I'll be the one to set you straight. Uh…you know what I mean," responded Sayaka, scratching her head. "Anyway, you're bisexual. Or at least curious. And there're exactly zero things wrong with that. It doesn't make you a 'deviant,' or a perv, or anything. And it doesn't make what you have with Kyosuke any less special."

If someone had told her a few months ago that she'd be sitting here with one of her best friends, reassuring her that her repressed homosexual urges shouldn't get in the way of her relationship with the boy Sayaka herself had been crushing on for practically half their lives…

Well, she'd have been highly skeptical.

She also would've had difficulty imagining what came next. Which was that Hitomi's tears abruptly stopped, and the rich girl slapped herself lightly on both cheeks, as if psyching herself up.

"You're right, Sayaka-chan. You're absolutely right," she said, grabbing Sayaka by the hand and hauling them both up with surprising strength. She had to remind herself that one of the green-haired girl's many, many after-school lessons happened to be in judo.

"Uh…where are we going…?" muttered Sayaka, barely managing to avoid tripping over her own feet as she was pulled along.

"To make you as happy as I am right now. Because by gosh, you deserve it," declared Hitomi, without a hint of irony. "And if that's in the arms of Sakura-san…then so be it!"

One slender, perfectly manicured fist pumped in the air. "I've finally seen the light!" she shouted out to anyone who would listen, her air of demureness and decorum utterly forgotten. "Girls can love girls! Girls can love girls!"

[-]

"Now, Akemi-san, I know you wanted to remain with Kaname-san for as long as possible," said Doctor Tenjou. "But we're winding down to the end of our session, and I'd really like just a couple minutes alone with each of you. And I think I'd actually like to start with you, Kaname-san."

"Very well," Homura replied, before Madoka could say anything. "Should I remain in the hall?"

"Yes, please. This shouldn't take very long," Doctor Tenjou told her.

And so, before she knew it, Madoka was alone in the room with the therapist. The rose-haired woman smiled gently.

"As close as the two of you are…I can tell there are secrets you're keeping from one another. Not that there's anything inherently wrong with that," she explained to her patient. "Which is why I wanted to give you both an opportunity to speak candidly about one another. Even in the deepest of friendships, there can be friction. Unacknowledged issues lurking beneath the surface."

She held up a preemptive hand. "But of course, that's only if you choose to," the doctor added quickly. "There will be no consequences if you share these things with me…and no consequences if you decide not to. This is a safe space, Kaname-san."

Madoka, for her part, looked upon the psychiatrist appraisingly. Her sincerity and dedication to her profession were obvious; there were no ulterior motives here.

Frankly, her mind was so fit to bursting right now, that even a few minutes of one-on-one therapy was starting to sound really appealing. Obviously, she couldn't share anything about magic, or the stresses Homura's mission was placing her under every single day.

But…there was one thing she could possibly vent about to the older woman. One thing that'd been consuming her every waking thought for a few days now, like a ravenous virus.

The only question was whether she dared speak those dreaded words aloud. Telling her papa had been one thing; this was essentially a stranger.

But maybe that was what made the idea so difficult to resist.

"You…You promise?" she said timidly. "Anything I tell you now…you won't repeat to Homura-chan?"

"Doctor-patient confidentiality is the single most important principle in my profession. Even when it involves keeping one patient's confidence from the other," answered Doctor Tenjou. "Your secrets are safe with me."

"I…I'm only really keeping one from her," Madoka found herself continuing on, her control over her mouth rapidly slipping. "But it's a big one. And if she finds out…it could destroy our friendship forever."

"I think it's possible you may be underestimating Akemi-san's loyalty to you," the therapist pointed out. "But go on."

"Well, it's…I mean…that's…" stammered Madoka, trying and for the most part failing to force herself to confront the issue directly.

Eventually, screwing up every tiny scrap of courage left in her petite body, she managed to squeeze out a single complete sentence: "The thing is, I think I…like her. Really, really like her."

"Ah. I see," said Doctor Tenjou, folding her hands and leaning back in her chair. She didn't seem very surprised. "I see this issue more and more with my younger patients these days. Friends who've known each other for years, until puberty sets in and one finds their feelings…changing. Then they're wracked with indecision and guilt, unsure whether the other does or even can reciprocate their affections. Kaname-san, this is a normal – if, admittedly, less than fun – part of adolescence."

That very much did sound like Madoka's current predicament…apart from one crucial detail.

"Umm…Homura-chan and I have only known each other for about a month," she informed the doctor. "Maybe that's part of it. All the friends I had as a kid, before the move…Sayaka-chan, Hitomi-chan. I'm not sure I could even think about them, y'know…that way…"

"But Akemi-san is the first true friend you've made since experiencing your sexual awakening. It's natural for your mind to see her differently," Doctor Tenjou surmised shrewdly. Madoka's face flushed crimson at the last part, though she didn't deny it. "Obviously, there are ways this can be more…complicated, than if the relationship was purely heterosexual. Especially in a country like Japan. But there is nothing wrong with what you're feeling now."

"Did…Did that make it more difficult for you?" asked the teenager, fumbling with her fingers. "You, uh…said you had a wife, right?"

The therapist looked surprised at the question. "I am…generally not in the habit of discussing my personal life with my patients. It's a matter of ethics and professional distance," she responded. "But to keep things very general…yes, there were some issues. Our marriage isn't legally recognized in this country, or her own. But wherever we go, we know what we mean to one another. What these mean."

She stroked a ring on her left hand fondly. It bore a pattern of a pink rose, and glinted in the light.

"Your wife must be a very kind woman," said Madoka. "I can hear it in your voice."

A small smile appeared on the older woman's lips. "I won't deny that," she whispered back, still staring at the ring. "Whatever difficulties we may have faced along the way…they were worth it, to find true love. That is the advice I choose to give you, Kaname-san."

[-]

Meanwhile, out in the hallway, Homura Akemi was pacing back and forth impatiently.

With her powers, it would've been child's play to listen in on Madoka's "private" session, but she'd made a deliberate decision to forgo such temptations. She was trying to do better, this time. For her sake.

Perhaps it was a futile goal, after all the sins she'd committed already. There was scarcely a single way she hadn't violated Madoka's privacy or autonomy, at one time or another.

But against all odds, this incarnation of Madoka Kaname – the very last whose voice she would ever hear, and whose hand she would ever hold – still trusted her. Trusted her with her hopes, and her dreams, and her secrets. Trusted her to be there in the end, when all else lay in failure.

That was the tiresome, awful, wonderful thing about Madoka. Even when all logic dictated otherwise, she was utterly incapable of giving up on anyone.

Across dozens of time flows, she'd done unspeakable things before those shimmering, rose-colored eyes. Allowed innocents to die. Left streets in ruins, in the course of wiping out Witches. Even murdered Madoka's very best friends, with her own two hands.

Yet not once had Madoka given up on her. Time and time again she'd reached out, convinced that Homura's soul was truly good, and her cause noble…even if she couldn't quite comprehend what that cause was.

Homura almost had to chuckle, albeit humorlessly. There was nothing noble in the course she'd set for herself now. Perhaps there'd never been.

But wasn't it just like the most selfless person to ever grace the soil of the Earth…to see the best in the very most selfish?

"I've seen the look that rests within your eyes. Like all the weight of the world lies upon your shoulders," came a soft voice.

The raven-haired girl started. She hadn't realized she was no longer alone – and for her to miss another person's approach, with her senses, they must've been very quiet indeed.

She was a quiet, demure-looking woman, seated calmly on one of the plastic chairs lining the hall. Her hair was a bluish shade of purple, and her skin a deep tan; of Indian origin, Homura guessed, based on the bindi in the center of her forehead. She was wearing a formal, salmon-colored suit, and Homura could see the slight glint of contacts in her sea-green eyes.

"I'm…sorry?" said Homura, cursing herself for sounding so off-put.

"Forgive me for being so forward. But something in those eyes of yours reminds me of myself, all those years ago," continued the mysterious woman. "My apologies. I'm only here to wait for my wife. She is a doctor here."

It didn't take long for Homura to connect the dots. "Doctor Tenjou? Her session should be concluded shortly," she told her. "I was just seeing her with…with a friend of mine. But she wanted a few minutes alone with each of us before concluding business."

The purple-haired woman didn't speak for some time. She just stared at Homura's face, unblinkingly, for long enough to make even her feel uncomfortable.

Then in cool, crisp tones, she declared, "She isn't just a 'friend' to you."

It was a statement, not a question, and for the first time in a long time Homura was speechless.

"I can see things. Things other people miss. I've always been able to," said the woman. "Some call it 'magic.' Some are less superstitious about it. Either way, I do not believe I'm mistaken about this."

The single word "magic" immediately riled up Homura's hackles, though she tried not to let it show.

"Is there a reason you feel so confident in this assertion?" she asked, keeping her voice as even as she could.

The woman's lip curled, in something like bemusement.

"I told you already. It's because I can see myself in your eyes," she answered. "There is a darkness there. Something timeless and eternal. And because of that darkness, you've resolved yourself to believe that you don't deserve love. That you don't deserve happiness. Someone or something had you under its thumb for some time, but now that you're free you feel even more trapped. Except that the only one forging your chains now…is you."

"You…don't know anything about what you're talking about," muttered Homura, though it came out far weaker than she'd been intending. "You don't know me."

"On the contrary, Homura Akemi. I know what rests at the end of the world," said the purple-haired woman. "And thus, I know your heart. A heart drawn in a thousand different directions, all at once. Girl and Woman. Hero and Villain. Savior and Witch."

Instinctively, Homura drew for her power, taking a stance that would allow her to fight at a moment's notice. "I never told you my name," she hissed. "Who are you? What are you?"

"You know exactly what I am. What we all are," spoke the woman, her voice still just so infuriatingly calm. "You just don't want to admit that you're slipping. But the consequences if you continue on this path will be…dire. Trust me. The fountain of experience I speak from is overwhelming – and the waters themselves, tainted and wretched."

"This…doesn't make any sense," Homura whispered, mostly to herself. "You're not even real, are you? You can't be."

"I suppose that depends on your definition," stated the woman, hands folded calmly across her lap. A pink ring was displayed prominently upon one of the fingers. "In a sense, none of us are real, Homura Akemi. Not even you."

Before Homura could react, the nearest door suddenly swung open. Two rose-haired women exited: Doctor Tenjou with her usual cool, professional smile, and Madoka with…

With an expression Homura couldn't even begin to read.

"Thank you so much for waiting, Akemi-san. If you would join me in here for a few minutes, I'd like to have a word with you as well," said the psychiatrist, before noticing the other person waiting in the hallway. "Oh, Anthy dear. You're early. As long as you're here, would you mind keeping Kaname-san company while we finish up?"

Alarm bells started clanging in Homura's head. Leave Madoka alone, even for a few minutes, with a woman like this?

Without offering any warning or explanation, Homura clutched tight onto the hand of the girl she loved.

And ran.

[-]

"We need to move."

The words came out of the blue, the first her mistress had spoken in almost three hours. She was well-used to giving her a wide berth at times like these; to access her oracular powers required absolute quiet and concentration, and a store of mana that, absent any way to generate Grief Seeds, they were running very short on.

Since "absolute quiet" were not words anyone would tend to use to describe her, she usually occupied herself during these times by reading manga or playing on a stolen 3DS. With earphones, of course.

The last thing she needed was her mistress scolding her, should her focus be broken because the system shouted "Igiari!" at an inopportune time.

"What kinda vision did ya get this time?" she asked her lover. "Sounds serious."

"Very much so," said her silver-haired mistress, as she released her Magical Girl transformation the second it was no longer needed. They couldn't afford to waste a single drop of magic right now. "Sasa Yuki has already enthralled a new pawn, and she's incredibly powerful. If we do nothing, she'll locate our base by sunset tomorrow. She'll kill me…and enslave you. You and Mami Tomoe."

The brunette growled like a vicious dog at the very idea her mistress might be harmed. But a moment later, she remembered something that poked through her haze of rage.

"Wait…I thought ya said that bitch can only control one Magical Girl at once," she replied.

"Unfortunately, her latest thrall has the potent ability to rewrite people's memories and perception of events," explained the other girl. "Which means she's achieved the proverbial 'wishing for more wishes.' With such power at her command, she could implant any memory she desires into her target. Such as them swearing utter fealty to her, as…as an obedient slave."

She placed her soft, dainty hands across both of her lover's shoulders, causing her to blush.

"I won't let them do that to you, darling. I won't," she added quickly. "I'm too dangerous for Yuki to keep alive; my powers are the perfect counter for her new thrall. So the only way we all get out of here, with our minds and souls intact, is if we flee now."

"Gotcha," said the brunette, adapting fully to the sense of urgency. "I'll grab Tomoe's body then, if ya can get her Soul Gem. Where'd we leave it after that las' experiment, again?"

The silver-haired girl raised an eyebrow, but before she could respond, her lover smacked herself across the head. "That's right…I shoved that sucker down inta the sewer! Never mind, then. I can't have ya gettin' yer hands dirty like that, mistress."

For that, she received a small chuckle, a light and melodious sound. "Well my darling, if you insist," she remarked, a smile still tugging at the corner of her lip. "I have a suggestion. Why don't you bind the girl's wrists, and then bring her Soul Gem back in range? She hasn't eaten in two days. She won't be strong enough to flee from you."

"Uh…if ya think that's the bes' way…" murmured the brunette, unsure where her mistress was going with this. Still, she'd never steered her wrong before.

"Perfect!" exclaimed the other girl, clapping her hands together. "Then take her along with you – drag her if you need to – to this address. I'll be waiting for you, darling."

She handed a small note to her lover. The characters on it were drawn a little rougher than her usual, elegant scrawl, but she supposed they were in quite a hurry.

"I won't let ya down, mistress!" she said, bowing her head in reverence. "Anythin' else I should keep in mind?"

"We'll discuss things further once we're back under safer shelter," answered the silver-haired girl. "But I assure you, there will be much to discuss."

"Like what?" asked the brunette, as she held out her own Soul Gem and transformed with a flash of magic. The added speed of her Magical Girl form would make the mana expenditure worth it. "I mean, ya don't have ta tell me if ya don't wanna…"

Her mistress chuckled again, a little louder this time. "No, no, it's fine. It's good news, really," she cut her off. "It's time to really start pushing our offensive, darling."

That just made her lover look even confused. "What's that mean?" she whispered.

The other girl's smile only grew broader – to a point where it almost seemed like it should've been painful.

"We're finally going to kill Homura Akemi, of course!" she declared cheerfully. "And anyone else who happens to get in our way!"