The car ride was, as expected of Junko, extremely pleasant. She had asked questions, but never pressed, and readily took no for an answer. An amazing hostess, after many years of business meetings and office politics. Even Mami paled in comparison.
The first question, of course, was my address. Simple, and simply provided. I settled back into the lush seat and prattled the strangely long street name. Luckily, Junko seemed to be familiar with that part of town. The second, equally obvious; how do I know her daughter. Equally simple; I transferred in this Monday, and we share classes.
In short order, I was home, acquainted with Junko, and less wet than I had expected to be by this time. All in all, I didn't do bad. But damned if I couldn't - wouldn't do better. Not bad wouldn't save Madoka. Not bad wouldn't break the loop.
A constant reminder to myself, of what I was aiming for, of my lines in the sand. The rules of the race, I once called it, though I can't recall ever particularly liking to race. I don't know where my thoughts go, when creating names, or remembering events. Hazy, nostalgic, or deluded. But once again, this wouldn't save Madoka either.
I don't, I can't, and I won't let her down. Not this time. Or next time.
I smacked myself.
There can't be a next time. There won't be a next time. The truth of this scenario dawned on me, a warped, angry reality. "That's what I had said last time!" Like a fire at the base of my being, my anger rose. "Next time!" I smacked myself again. "Next time!" Then I hit the wall instead. "Next!" Hitting things doesn't blow off very much steam. I smashed my head to the wall. That did the trick. "I need... I need to sit down."
I'm thinking about saving Madoka now, I just spent half my day doing nothing. A witch I could have killed on my own. Wasting time trying to make friends. But friends are invaluable. But I can make friends later. All this worrying. But no thinking. This is what's going to bring me to the "next time!" I had said the last part out loud. "Okay. I need a plan... Does the computer still work?"
The hard drive had been replaced after a shameful act, that which shall not be named, but I hadn't tried cutting it on since. If it didn't work, well... I still had a phone.
The computer worked fine, after a bit of setup. Now running a version of Linux I can't quite remember, I could easily access Microsoft Word, and-
Okay maybe not Word.
So, fresh Libre Writer in hand, I began to concoct a magnificent plan. A beautiful plan, a magnum opus to rival the works of the absent Gods. Possibly the best of my life. And what was the masterwork?
"Modus Operandi
Stop Time
Catch The Train To Kamihama – More Weapons
Come Back, Kill Sweets Witch (with mami? Trust building exercise)
Take Weekend To Prepare C4 Well; Canons
Get Kyoko"
That's as far as I remembered my loose guidelines, but it lines up with what I thought was important. And for a while, that was "the plan". And with a plan set, all I had to do was follow it. As long as there was nothing I was forgetting, at least; and there was something tugging at the back of my mind for the past week.
"I'm sure it'll be fine." Famous last words. Okay. There's no way I'll let this rest. I don't need sleep to operate anyway. It helps your brain organize? I'm pretty sure my brain doesn't do anything anymore.
If ever there were a rebuttal to rival the quality of my plan, that would be it. If I intended to win here; do or die.
And back
Down the path
Through memory
Lane
Well worn
By sodden feet
With shield
In hand
I take
My stand
And march
Down the street
That might not be the exact poem I made. I still like this one though. Am I most creative when I don't have the chemicals needed to operate? Whatever; my mystery detail was now clear. Sanae. Sanae Orihara.
HOW had I forgotten?
This big a change, in any timeline... And the power outage! Employee mistake? My ass. There is no way something major isn't happening here, hasn't already happened here. It hasn't been a full week and this could cost me the entire timeline! The plan?! I'll need to scrap it all; how could I store an entire Kyoko in one house, when I've got surveillance? When I'm being surveilled. Surveyed.
"Fuck..." this timeline would need a lot of work to work. The revelation of my foolishness to think that anything might occur as normal, or as close to normal as things got in timelines, had excited my mind. There would be no sleep tonight. The poem I wrote didn't fully express my panic. But being lost in the sameness of things that should never happen happening... It was good enough to put my mind to, and calm me down.
As it would happen, being calm wouldn't help much.
Hey hey hey, party people; what's hip hop hap'nin. It's ya boi, Neiroe,
or as some friends call me, "you should probably finish that chapter".
I'm apologizing again for leaving you all high and dry. I'm trying to get
better about updating more constantly and consistently. The schedule
is still once every two weeks (on a saturday) there were a few hiccups
to getting this done, the first of which being that I didn't get to write
at all during February for reasons out of my control. The second was
I just didn't feel very much like writing any more. But now I am in
OVERDRIVE. You know what that means?!
Neither do I.
