Chapter 26: The Catalyst

Junko and Kiku both emerged from the cafe of their own accord some time later, the older woman giving the illusionist a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. Homura watched them as they passed through the door; Junko looked quite pleased with herself, but Kiku seemed to be in a daze, and it was obvious that something important was racing through her mind.

"It was very nice talking with you, Hanezawa-san," The business woman said, offering her hand to the girl. "Feel free to contact me when you've made your decision." The brunette nodded absently and reciprocated the handshake. Nodding once to herself, Junko rose and approached Homura, who eyed her with more than a little confusion.

"Glad we could catch up," She said, exchanging another handshake with the shield user. "I'm happy that things worked out for you. And while I'd to stick around and hear all the juicy details, I've got to head back home. Tatsuya needs me right now."

"Of course," Homura murmured, bowing her head. Junko waved casually back and hailed a cab, disappearing beyond the horizon soon after. The time traveler watched her go for a while before turning back to face Kiku, who was staring at the sidewalk with a blank expression on her face. "Kiku?"

"Huh?" The illusionist started, jerking her head up.

Homura sighed, flicking a stray lock of hair behind her. "Nothing. But you seem spaced out," She observed. "What did Kaname-san want to speak to you about?"

"She..." Her voice trailed off again, but Homura's impatient expression prompted her to gather her thoughts. "She offered me a cafe."

"...What?"

"Well, not literally," Kiku amended, still tongue tied. She tucked her hair behind her ear, apparently still grappling with the facts herself. "She said that there's an abandoned building on the border of the Residential District that her company owns. Or, more specifically, they own the land it sits on. There used to be some kind of postage office there, but it went out of business months ago. Junko's been trying to sell the place for ages, but for some reason she failed to find any buyers. The plot is cheap, at least for a spot in Mitakihara, and the building is in decent condition..."

Homura rolled that around in her head for a while before realizing what it meant. "So you're saying..."

"...If I were to hypothetically buy the plot through her, my fantasy might become a reality," Kiku finished.

"That's good news, isn't it?" Homura asked, taking in the older girl's expression. "You don't seem very excited."

"No, I am," Kiku replied quickly, picking at the hem of her pants. "But it's just crazy, you know? It don't know the first thing about buying land, or starting a business, actually. Don't you need some kind of credential for that? Not to mention that it's a lot of money, even with the discount...I don't even know what Mami will think about all this."

That much is true, Homura though privately, as Kiku continued to mutter incoherencies to herself. She considered herself to be more adept at finances than the illusionist, but even she was vague on the requirements one needed to meet before opening a cafe, or anything of the sort. Then again, she doubted that Junko would make Kiku an offer that was impossible to follow up on. As mysterious as the woman could be, Homura knew that she was good at her job. And a good businesswoman didn't make unnecessary investments.

"I'll have to think about it," Kiku sighed, shaking her head. "I'll have to take it up with Mami too, actually."

"Be careful while you do that," Homura said, as she attempted to hail their own cab.

The brunette looked up at her. "Why?"

"She isn't used to doing things on your terms."

"Tomoe-san, are you listening?"

The administrator's voice snapped the blonde out of her labyrinth-like reverie, and the girl fluttered her long eyelashes for a moment before refocusing on the older man. Mind chugging backwards, she briefly reviewed the portion of her conscious that had been keeping track of their conversation and replayed it, as the administrator tapped his tablet impatiently, awaiting her response.

"I'm sorry, Takanashi-sensei. I'll try to put more thought into it," She muttered at last.

The administrator sighed and dropped his tablet onto a desk, with the blonde's graduation pathway plan clearly displayed on the little pneumatic screen. She saw her own solemn, gently smiling face gazing back at her, along with most of her personal information listed en mass to the side. It was a massive clutter of information, but there was one glaring blank spot, and it was the region where she was supposed to write what her plans were upon graduation.

"I'm not trying to put undue pressure on you or anything," Her teacher admonished, as Mami bowed her head in acknowledgement. "You've been a model student up until your stint in the hospital, and even upon your return you've mostly produced consistent results. But that's why this worries me, Tomoe-san. Someone who has achieved so much after facing this many difficulties should be able to put together some kind of plan for the next five years. This isn't like you."

No, I suppose it isn't, Mami thought through pursed lips. She had forgotten it during her long absence from institutionalized education, but she had established a sort of perfectionist reputation for herself over time. And while an image like that was fairly easy to meld herself into, it was difficult to pick up again after a respite. After all this time, she was beginning to fail to see the point. Her priorities had changed, somewhat, and not necessarily for the better.

"I'll think something up before graduation. I promise," She offered, bowing her head again. The teacher nodded in acceptance and switched off his tablet, Mami's personal profile vanishing in an engulfment of black. People were usually inclined to go easy on those who prostrated themselves with a humble attitude, and Mami had learned to effectively exploit this faucet of most people. Some individuals would only delight in seeing her bow, however, and it was of those people that she had to be the most wary.

Murmuring her polite farewells, Mami dipped out of the classroom and headed home.

The sun was in its transitional phase when she emerged into the outside, still burning defiantly in the sky, even as the daily cycle struggled to force it below the horizon. It made Mami wonder how the flaming star in the sky could fight the same battle every day without end, while seemingly lacking a particular cause. To her, the sun had no particular reason to exist. It simply was, and so it rose every morning, one of the few true constants that humanity had built itself around. Rise with the sun, and sleep while awaiting its return. She reflected that if she were to one day wake up and find that she was the sun, she may very well never rise again.

She took her usual path home, following the thin river that wound its way through the heart of Mitakihara and accompanied her through most of her journey. Sometimes small families brought their children out here and played carelessly on the banks, but today the grasslands were bare, and Mami was surrounded by nothing but the crystalline glow of the river and the deep red bowl above her. Today she would make the walk alone; she had told Kyouko to go on ahead without her, and she doubted that Homura had wanted to argue otherwise. She had texted Kiku to explain her tardiness before entering the office to speak with her administrator. Normally she would have hated having to walk home alone, but today was one of those instances where an anomaly manifested itself, and Mami welcomed the opportunity to think.

As irritable as she had been earlier, she knew that time was running short. She needed to choose some sort of career path, and soon; the daily life of high school students, though often perversely glorified and made to seem eternal, always came to an end. Mami thought about the numerous times her more naive friends had drawn life advice from the bevy of high school oriented anime and television available to them, and she herself had been a victim to their wishful fantasies on more than one occasion. But where were the animated slice of lives concerning the lives of adults? The struggles and their passions? The fact was that there were none, and in cases like this Mami supposed one would have to turn to an adult figure for guidance.

But she had very few of those, and the one she did have would never understand her well enough to offer sound advice.

Fatigue overcame her suddenly, like a jackal that had been hiding in the depths of the river. Stopping in her tracks, Mami heard the road's ravel crunch beneath her shoes and sighed. She abruptly felt worn, felt the need to sit down somewhere and contemplate.

Is Homura rubbing off on me? The blonde wondered to herself, as she turned and headed down the long sloping hills that led down to the river banks. After walking gingerly about for a moment in search of a clean patch of grass, she set her case down and sat cross legged by the running water. It was a little crude to sit that way, perhaps, but there was no one around to pressure her otherwise. Reaching down, she plucked a few pebbles off the ground and rolled them between her fingers.

It bothered her, really. For all her responsibility, Mami knew that she was ultimately more of a "point A to point B" personality. She climbed the mountain before worrying about the mountain range, and sometimes the slopes she found afterwards were too high too scale. She found it somewhat amusing that six months ago, the pinnacle of her concerns were making sure that Kiku stayed protected. Now that she had effectively achieved that goal, she found herself with only more problems.

She should be happy, shouldn't she? Angrily, she flicked one of the pebbles out of her hand. It skipped once across the surface of the river before plunging down to the bottom, the waves claiming the meal with greed. The terrible responsibility of being a magical girl had finally been lifted from her shoulders, and she could more or less guarantee the safety of her friends now. Kyouko was happy, Homura was happy, and Kiku seemed content. Then shouldn't she, but deductive reasoning, also be happy?

But no, she was not yet satisfied, because Mami's version of happiness constituted a world without problems. She saw nothing in her future but more of these problems. She most certainly wouldn't be attending college; even if she were to go ronin and somehow enter a decent institution, how would she be able to meet tuitions? Even the most modest universities in Mitakihara would make it almost impossible to live, even with her generous allowances, and leaving the city was absolutely out of the question. She was too ingrained here; her soul walked the corridors of this place. She couldn't leave.

Fine, a job then. A job doing what? She didn't have a particular set of skills. She supposed she was a decent cook, and could run a home better than most, but becoming something like a maid didn't appeal to her. A spot in the business world wasn't exactly a bad idea, but she knew nobody in the industry, and there were probably required credentials that she couldn't even dream of getting.

Mami's common sense told her that there had to be some sort of job out there, one that fit her aspirations and could be held with her meager qualifications. But she had no idea, and that was where the problem lay; she didn't know. She was a blind man who had been struck deaf, and now she groped her way from day to day, hoping to hit pay dirt. Only perhaps the earth wasn't there, or it had been mined for all its valuables already.

She liked being reliable. Being what she was, Kiku would find it incredibly difficult to expand her horizons in the future. She had no identity in the real world, and her very existence had been erased from the annals of human memory. How could one make a fingerprint when she was a ghost?

No, it was up to her to make sure Kiku was cared for. At the very least, Mami had made sure that the brunette wasn't going anywhere.

Now she just had to keep it that way.

Sighing, Mami tossed the last of her pebbles in to the water, not even bothering to watch them sink. She knew what would happen to them. She had seen the scene enough times.

Picking up her case, she trudged her way up the slope.

Though the eyes of the gods often focused on a different household, one where a girl of time and a girl of fury slept soundly together under the wings of mutual love, occasionally they shifted their glance to another room, one where synergy was almost nonexistent, and the smell of restraint was almost palpable.

When Kiku opened her eyes, squinting when they met the shadow of the day, the first thing she saw was Mami's quietly sleeping face.

It gave her a confusing mix of emotions to see that face; adoration and derision both lit flames in her chest, and the result was a multicolored spray of fireworks that she could make no sense out of, or whether they were for celebration of mourning.

But then realized that the anomaly was pointless, because Mami would never allow her to bring fireworks into the house.

Closing her eyes, Kiku considered going back to sleep. It was the weekend, and even if it had been a weekday she had no obligations to speak of. The only difference to her was that Mami stayed home all day on weekends, and for that admittedly shallow reason, she preferred weekends. But temptation baited her eyes, and she opened them again, this time taking in Mami's expression with a little more poise.

The two of them slept on separate twin beds, but there was no space between the mattresses; they were squashed together so that one bed seamlessly melded into the next, creating one great, white expanse. Or perhaps it wasn't so seamless. Kiku could still see the deep black crack that distinguished one mattress from the other, and it yawned between them like a great chasm.

It was just an insignificant line, but she had never been able to cross it. Mami usually rolled unconsciously to the far side of her bed at night, but sometimes she shifted the other way, coming as close to the edge of her own bed without leaving it, and Kiku's breaths would come in short wafts as she lay curled on the edge of her own blankets, marveling at the fact that Mami's nose was no more than two inches from her own. The blonde kept her hair down when she was at home, and her golden locks were surprisingly long when they were let out of their ringlets, framing her pale face as she slumbered.

Kiku noticed that Mami always looked a little worried when she slept; the girl's eyebrows never ceased to bunch themselves, the motherly tilt of her lip never eased. But she found that to be attractive about the blonde as well; the fact that something was always on her mind, that she was always contemplating and worrying. It made the brunette feel safe, in a way. And she needed that. Sometimes Mami was more of a motherly figure to her than a friend.

Perhaps that was the issue.

The illusionist's eyes continued to roam, taking everything in while she could. This was the only time she could openly stare without receiving a gently questioning glance in return. The accursed blankets covered most things, but Kiku took in the smooth slope of Mami's shoulders, the pale skin left bare in her thin nightgown. The blonde slept on her side, and Kiku's irises lingered on the girl's lips, which fluttered with every latent breath, and the gentle curve of her chest.

Her fingers twitched lightly, breaking free of the loose fists she had curled them into before her chest. The sheets were cool where she hadn't slept on them, and they kissed her knuckles in response. The sensation was soothing, but it didn't satisfy her, not when something infinitely better lay gently snoring not a foot away.

Biting her lip, Kiku lifted her hand and reached out, sending her arm gingerly past the black chasm. Her fingers were just about to stroke Mami's sleeve when the blonde squinted and shifted in her sleep, moving herself just out of the brunette's reach.

Kiku stayed frozen like that for a moment, stunned, then retracted her hand.

Maybe another day.

"I wish you had woken me up a little earlier," Mami sighed, striding into the kitchen.

"It isn't my fault you forgot to set an alarm," Kiku quipped back, leaning back in her chair. The blonde rolled her eyes and started rummaging around in the cupboards, muttering incoherencies to herself.

Kiku glanced at her uncomfortably before looking away; Mami was still in that airy nightgown that did a terrible job of covering her up, and stretching to reach into the cupboards wasn't helping any. The brunette's eyes went wide when Mami lunged forward to pull out something particularly hard to reach, and she was treated to a thrilling expanse of leg and a bit of the region beyond. Her breath caught in her throat, but Mami bounced back down and the view was quickly terminated. Kiku didn't know whether to feel disappointed or relieved.

"You could put some of these ingredients back in the correct order, you know," The blonde suddenly sighed, examining the labels on various cans she had procured.

Then stop wearing clothes that make me horny in the morning! Kiku thought furiously. One strap of Mami's gown was hanging free from her shoulder, and the anticipation was killing the brunette. But Mami reached up and tugged the strap back up a moment later, and this time the illusionist was candidly disappointed.

Shaking her head, Mami filled a pot with water and had it start boiling on the stove. She filled another two glasses and brought them over to the table while she waited, taking a seat across from Kiku. The stove's flames burned lowly beside them, giving off thin waves of heat.

The blonde exhaled slowly and took a deep draw from her cup, crossing her legs casually underneath the table. Kiku's eyes flicked downwards to observe the movement through the clear glass surface, and for a moment she considered just as casually asking if Mami was going commando under that nightgown. After all, the amount of skin Mami had unintentionally exposed earlier gave her ample cause for suspicion. Her common sense won out, however, and she bit her tongue in self reprobation. Mami was unlikely to respond well to such an inquiry, and there was always the chance that the blonde wouldn't even know what going commando meant.

And Kiku didn't feel particularly inclined to explain that to her.

Mami finished her glass of water with a pronounced sigh and set it down on the table, leaning forward on her elbows afterwards. Kiku felt her blasted eyes drifting downwards again, though they didn't go as far down as they had last time, now focusing an a different region entirely. Hell. She had heard the rumors at school, but...

"Anything in particular you want to eat today?" The blonde's voice asked her through muffled mental screens.

"Melons," Kiku muttered, eyes still glued.

Mami blinked. "What?"

"Nothing," Kiku lied smoothly. She had gotten rather good at that lately. Circumstances had necessitated it.

Mami frowned and sat up straight in her chair, reaching up to run her fingers through her mane of golden hair. Kiku almost hated herself for being drawn to the way those locks gave way to those slender fingers. Shit, why did everything about her have to be so damn distracting? Everything, from the way she always made eyes contact when speaking, to the way she licked her lips once in a while, to the way she bit her fucking thumb while thinking. Kiku had never thought herself a fanatic, but god were those teeth sparkly clean. She found clean teeth very attractive, so of course Mami had to have them!

It occurred to her then that she was actually getting visibly angry over this, and she had to suppress the urge to laugh. Was this how far she had fallen? Was she really going to succumb to the terrors of sexual frustration?

"So, Takanshi-sensei's been badgering me to fill out my five year plan lately," Mami sighed.

Kiku snorted and drank deeply from her cup. "Yeah, I remember him. He never graded my essays fairly. Always scored below an ninety percent in that damn class."

Mami frowned. "Watch your language, Kiku. It's improper."

"It's practically the twenty second century, Mami. Can't you lighten up a little?"

"Some values don't change, regardless of time," The blonde replied blandly, leaning forward again to press her point. Her stern look was both cowing and endearing.

Kiku smiled and leaned forward herself, craning her neck upwards until her nose was an inch from Mami's. "Care to name a few?" She asked lowly, fluttering her eyelashes at the blonde.

Mami went momentarily cross-eyed as she focused on the middle of Kiku's face, but then she sighed. "Like how you still forget to brush your teeth in the morning," She scolded, using one elegant finger to gently push the brunette's face aside. "How many times must I lament the horrors of your morning breath?" She continued, rising out of her chair and walking back to the stove.

The illusionist pouted, her disappointment only minor. For a moment she thought she had Mami with her approach, but instead it was chalked up as yet another failed attempt. It wasn't as if she was new to the experience. "Fine. I'll go brush my damn teeth," She humphed, pushing herself off the table and padding off with attitude.

"I told you to watch your mouth!" Mami complained, but the girl was already closing the door behind her.

Once she had her privacy, Kiku slipped into the bathroom and struck the light switch. Her squinted briefly as the lightbulbs around her roared silently to life, and her chocolate brown irises slowly began to take in the reflection in the mirror. She stayed like that for a minute or two, quietly raking her eyes down her own body, searching for any glaring or obvious flaws. She ran her fingers through her hair; she reached down and pinched her bare thighs, poked at her stomach, slapped gently at her cheeks. What was it in this reflection that Mami didn't find attractive?

But then she sighed and thought that no, this probably wasn't the reason. She didn't think herself particularly vain, nor did she want to be, but she did haver confidence in her physicality. Even the humblest of pretty girls knew they were pretty, and Kiku was no exception.

Yet this was one of those rare cases where having a nice face didn't count for much. She had gone through much of her life by relying on her charm and agreeable personality, but they weren't the answer to everything. The two examples that came to the forefront of her mind were Mami and her parents; though they represented very different emotions to her, they nonetheless presented her with the same problem. For all the boys she could charm, for all the adults that favored her respectful disposition, she could not attain through the same means what she most desired; the love of those closest to her. Beneath that face, she didn't see much.

She just wasn't special.

Reaching out, she stroked her lightly tanned skin through the glass, and her reflection flinched in response. What set her apart from other people? No matter how hard she wracked her conscious, she could produce no sound answer. Attractive physiques were a dime a dozen if one knew where to look. Besides being that nice girl down the block, there was nothing else to her. Yeah, maybe she was a magical girl who had been to the edge of death and beyond, but she couldn't really put that on a resume. Besides, Mami wouldn't find that particularly interesting.

Is that why she likes Kyouko so much? Kiku wondered. Is there really no one else like her? She closed her eyes and though about it, and realized that there really weren't. Abrasive personalities were not exactly rare, but the redhead's particular brand of honestly, bravery, and strength truly was something unique. She then supposed that the girl's partner, the venerable Homura, was equally special. Two wholly distinctive individuals.

Was Mami special? Well, she was special to her, but was she really special, in her own right?

It came to her attention that she couldn't answer that question herself, as any response would have been biased.

Why do I love you, then? She mused, plucking her toothbrush from its holder and running it under the sink. What draws a blank slate like me to you? As she pondered, she turned the brush slowly in the streaming water, soaking the bristles thoroughly.

Kiku figured that there had to be a reason. She had always regarded with some suspicion those people who would simple shrug and say "Just because," when they were asked the same question about their lovers. A response as noncommittal as that didn't belong in the same region as human emotion, in her opinion. For there to be an effect, there had to be a cause. Was it not a necessary construct, in this best of all possible worlds?

It was surprisingly easy for her to figure it out, as she pasted her toothbrush and began scrubbing vigorously at her mouth. Growing up, her parents had probably done their best for her, but they had failed to make her feel validated, important. That was part of what had motivated her to become so socially outgoing, because a human had to get their adoration from somewhere, and the love of her peers was the only available substitute for the warmth her mother had held back from her. Yet it was never a worthy replacement, and Kiku had always felt a little cynical towards people who were nice to her, always assuming that they had some sort of ulterior motive.

Until she met Mami.

The blonde had been the first person at school to treat her candidly; there were no stuttered lines, none of the stupid shameful blushes that the boys in her class seemed to enjoy making so much, not even a hint of peevishness or self consciousness. She had simply walked up to Kiku's lunch spot atop the hill and asked if they might eat together, with all the confidence in the world.

The brunette had stared skeptically at her for a while. Then she asked how the blonde would react if she were to refuse.

Mami simply smiled and told her that that would be just fine, as it was ultimately Kiku's choice.

Such a meaningless response was worlds to her, and Kiku finally accepted. Everyone else had treated her with some sort of entitlement, as if she were somehow obligated to be kind to others in return for their own kindness. But Mami had graciously given her the opportunity to be callous, to be selfish and uncompromising, and ironically that had made Kiku do the very opposite.

Afterwards, at least for a time, there were no ulterior motives.

Of course, that assumption eventually turned out to be untrue. Mami would always talk to her during school after that day, but they never saw each other otherwise. That was all she did, just talk with her, never asking for anything more. Kiku had found that strangely endearing, because it truly seemed that the blonde didn't want anything from her but her company. And that was true, to an extent, but she had had no idea how vital her company was the Mami's psyche. She had unknowingly spent three years being the girl's mental anchor, blissfully unaware.

But during that time, the seeds of affection were effectively lain. There were plenty of superficial reasons to love Mami; she was kind, responsible, beautiful, and mature. She was infallibly considerate and almost never chose to argue with her. But there was something deeper than that, a side of the blonde that Kiku hadn't had the privilege to see until after she contracted. Mami was always willing to go as far as she had to; even if it meant pushing her soul to the breaking point, she would do it.

There was something particularly fascinating about that, and Kiku had been fully awed when Mami saved her from Famira's killing blow. Petty arguments, philosophical differences; they were nothing in the face of her determination. To be in the presence of such raw intent, and to know that at least a little bit of it was meant only for her, was more than a little appealing to her romantic inclinations. To put it simply, Mami possessed pure iotas of confidence that Kiku herself would never truly have. It was ironic that she was the more outgoing one, when Mami was the truly confident one.

Sometimes she didn't regret becoming a magical girl, because it had allowed her to learn all these things. She was willing to pay such a price to know about such a large part of the blonde's life.

And for these reasons and many others, she loved Mami.

Regardless, their relationship had always progressed on Mami's own terms. Kiku was rarely successful in initiating their conversations at school, and soon she became content with simply waiting for the blonde to approach her instead. It wasn't as if she were kept waiting, after all. Mami always came back to her. But the blonde was always the pilot, always the one in control. She chose where their ship was to sail, and Kiku could only lean over the railing and stare down from the deck, wondering where the sea would take them.

The first time something significant had occurred between them without Mami's planning, it had almost destroyed them. It was certainly not the plan for Kiku to discover the blonde's secret and become a puella magi herself, and this unexpected development had been so detrimental that she had been forced to hide behind the guise of Saki for a while, and even afterwards there was a sense of distrust between them. This had faded just recently, but Kiku had been reminded how fragile their relationship really was, how tenuous and fickle their emotions were.

Baring her teeth in distaste, Kiku leaned over and spat into the sink. She turned on the faucet again and watched the foamy paste drain down the pipes, and stooped to gargle. Come to think of it, she still hadn't told Mami about Junko's proposal. It was stupid, it really was, but some part of her feared that the blonde would disapprove. It wasn't Mami's idea, after all. It was hers, or Junko's, or whoever's. Mami always had to be in control, always had to be progressing toward her personal utopia, or the consequences could be...distasteful.

That was the real tragedy, she thought, as she rinsed her mouth clean and reached out for the towel. At least on the outside, Mami was so pure, so impossibly perfect, that a less optimistic person had to think that there must be something terribly evil beneath the skin. But even at a medium level, Mami was not evil; she was a genuinely good person, with the best of intentions.

Her only flaw, really, was that she could never accept anyone's opinion but her own. It was a flaw without neighbors, but it was monstrous enough all on its own; it was why Kiku still struggled with her unrequited feelings, why she always felt a craving for something more, and why the thought of her cafe fantasy still squatted at the back of her mind, slowly decaying as it waited for the sunlight.

Rubbing at her mouth, she exhaled loudly and racked the towel.

Tossing her toothbrush back into its holder, she slipped out of the bathroom.

"That sure took you a while," Mami murmured when Kiku emerged from their room, eyes glued to the screen of her laptop.

The brunette flashed her pearly whites proudly. "Wanted to make sure they met your standards."

The blonde hummed in response, and silence enveloped them.

Deciding she didn't like this, Kiku padded over and sat next to Mami on the couch, plopping down onto the giving cushions. Mami scooted over to make room for her, but Kiku largely preempted her by leaning against the blonde's shoulder. The move drew a disapproving frown, but Mami did not say anything, slowly relaxing as Kiku closed her eyes and tried to discreetly inhale the blonde's scent.

"Look," Kiku said, eyes still closed. "There's something I wanted to tell you about. Someone made me a proposal the other day..."

There was no response, and Kiku looked up impatiently, only find that Mami was still absorbed by whatever she was doing.

"Hm? Oh, I'm sorry. Could you say that again?" The older girl murmured, still scrolling.

Kiku pouted and craned her neck to look at the computer screen. "What are you doing that's so important?"

"Checking job listings," Mami replied, clicking on a seemingly random link. "Takanashi-sensei isn't going to be lenient forever, and he's right anyways. I need some way to support the two of us. My parent's fund is vast, but it won't last forever. And I have my pride."

"Oh," Kiku echoed, her intended topic of conversation deflating. "What kind of jobs?" She asked, though there was little actual curiosity in the question.

"Mostly business related things," Mami said, typing on her keyboard. "I don't have the qualifications to do something more particular, so I'll have to start general. I'm sure someone out there needs a reliable secretary, or something."

"Oh," Kiku just said again, settling for quietly watching Mami scroll through various job listings. There were a ton of them, describing occupations across the board, but a vast majority of them required some sort of college degree or special skill. But Mami dutifully searched, bookmarking the ones that seemed within her reach, and within the hour she had compiled around a dozen job opportunities, as Kiku's heart sank with each one that got added to the list.

"I guess we can start with these," Mami said, sounding pleased with herself.

The brunette leaned over and observed the list. "Do you plan to be a secretary forever?"

The blonde shrugged, and Kiku's heart stopped when their sides rubbed against each other. "I have to start somewhere. Maybe some day I'll branch out into something else. But at the very least, joining a stable company is probably best for security...it's infinitely safer than starting my own business, at least."

"...Yeah," Kiku agreed, thinking that she never should have taken Homura to that particular cafe. "Listen, do you want to take a walk? Sakura trees are finally blooming."

"Maybe later," Mami murmured. "I need to go through all these."

"Okay," The brunette said, slipping off the couch. A few minutes later, she was slipping out the front door in light winter wear, as Mami sang out a brief farewell that she did not return.

It was still chilly when she stepped outside, but her breath no longer fogged. Spring would be coming soon. She hoped it would bring good things with it.

As she trudged away from the apartment, Kiku reflected that Mami had been the one to find her, to guide them both to where they were now. She supposed that, if she were to become closer with the blonde, Mami would have to allow it herself.

Mami was always in control, after all.

Exhaling slowly, she headed for the sakura trees, pulling out her phone and dialing a number.

Homura's bed was empty again, but this time it was her own fault.

She hauled herself up to a sitting position, realizing that she must have overslept. She vaguely remembered coming home from school yesterday with a killer headache, and had hastily thrown off her overclothes before falling into the bed. She didn't recall much after that.

Well, at least it was still the weekend.

Grunting and stretching her arms above her head, she was about to stand up when a driving pain split her skull; she groaned and sat back down instead, hunching over to clutch at her cranium. God, it was like she was suffering from the worst hangover of all time. Her head pounded as if another heart had been shoved inside her head to share space with her brain. Her eyes hurt the most in particular, thrumming with sharp spikes of pain like some sort of twisted melody.

Hell. What was wrong with her? She had been willing to call it a migraine and be done with it, but common sense told her that this was not the correct diagnosis. Though brief aches and pains sometimes cropped up, her internal magic would always correct the problem eventually. It had been a month now since the affliction had begun, and it only showed signs of worsening.

Stumbling to her feet, Homura staggered into the bathroom and flicked the lights on. The sudden illumination blinded her and made her want to scream, but she bit her tongue. Getting as close to the mirror as she could, she forced herself to peel her eyelids back and stared at her own bloodshot eyeballs, scanning desperately for some sort of obvious problem, perhaps an injury of some sort. But there were none, and aside from a little redness from sleep her eyes seemed to be perfectly normal. But they obviously weren't, because her damn head still felt like it was being crushed underneath an airplane's tires.

Groaning in agony, she slapped the lights off and fell out of the bathroom. Think. She had to think. She wasn't about to try and get through the day with this kind of pain riding on her back. Magic...her magic was supposed to heal all injuries, internal and external, but that wasn't happening. So the issue was something beyond magic's control. But such a thing didn't exist, as far as her knowledge went.

The problem, then, had to do with her magic itself.

Eyes. The pain was strongest in the eyes. A wild hypothesis came to her, and she shut her eyes as tight as she could. If her magic was to blame, she could only think of one place where she was still actively using it; her eyes. She had had terrible vision before her contracting, but after waking up in the hospital bed so long ago she had possessed near perfect sight. This was obviously the product of her magic, so perhaps she could reverse the effect.

Delving deep inside her soul, Homura focused on where her energies were being distributed, carefully combing through everything she found. Her soul seemed to be almost completely dormant, as it should be when she wasn't in combat form, but something caught her attention; a single, glowing string of energy, feeding a steady supply of magic to one specific area of her body.

Hesitating but a moment, she severed it.

The first thing she felt was the pain draining away; oh, Goddess above, there was no greater sensation on the earth. Homura moaned loudly and fell against the wall, crumpling to the floor in sheer relief as she felt her nerves finally settling down from the spasms that had seized it but moments ago. A minute later she felt perfectly fine, and she quietly listened to her heartbeat return to its regular pulse.

Inhaling deeply, she opened her eyes.

Blurry...she couldn't see a damn thing. A thick film seemed to have descended upon her field of vision, and she could no longer tell the precise details of what she looked at. Everything had instead become a multicolored blob that she vaguely recognized, as the shapes were still vaguely the same, but could not be distinguished. Blinking rapidly, she rubbed at her face, but the film did not abate.

No, of course it wouldn't. She had made it this way.

Homura sat against the wall for a while, thinking about what had just happened. The incredible pain she had woken up with was nothing like the bouts that had struck her before. She had managed to escape it for now, but the memory of the agony was still very fresh, very present in her mind. Homura was naturally averse to feeling pain, but what scared her more was that she didn't know where it was coming from. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with her; so what was it? She had on idea, and that scared her more than anything.

Drawing up her knees and pressing her forehead against them, Homura reached up and clawed at her hair.

What is wrong with me?

But she didn't despair for long. It wasn't part of her nature. Looking up, she resolved to solve her first problem. That would be her vision. Forcing herself to stand up, she walked gingerly to her desk and began rummaging through its contents, squinting closely at everything she fished out until she discovered a worn case. Popping the lid open, she observed what lay inside.

It had been a long time since she had last seen these glasses. The smooth, blood red frames glinted back at her, as if winking in greeting. Long time no see, they seemed to tell her, and Homura couldn't help frowning as she plucked them out of the case and slowly slipped them onto her face.

Thankfully, her vision sharpened immediately. A portion of her mind sighed in relief, as some irrational, animalistic part of her had feared being effectively blind forever. But no, she was fine now. The glasses felt odd and clunky on her face, and she was reminded of the fact that her nose was much too small to be wearing glasses in the first place, but she disregarded all of that. She could see now, and that was the important thing.

Walking over to the mirror, she slowly turned her head from left to right. What she saw displeased her; the childish red frames might have suited her when she was a first-year with pig tails, but she felt they were out of place, now that her hair framed her face and she had matured some. Returning to the desk, she looked around for another minute until she produced a second pair of glasses, a set of dark, square frames that looked more mature by comparison. Padding back over to the mirror, she tried them on instead.

They looked...better. The frames were a more sophisticated black, and they looked less random on her face. Squinting to find a comfortable position for them, Homura reached up and pushed them against her nose. She looked like some recently employed secretary, which she supposed wasn't a bad thing. She had never considered using lenses as a sort of fashion statement, but if they happened to look good on her, that was fine.

Sighing tiredly, she was about to head downstairs when the door opened.

"Homura, how long are you gonna slee-" Kyouko stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the shield user standing in the middle of the room. "What the...how..."

Homura shifted uncomfortably, waiting for the redhead to comment on her frames. She didn't know if she would be completely honest if Kyouko demanded an explanation, so she prayed the girl simply wouldn't ask.

"Did I...happen to tell you about my glasses fetish too?" Kyouko finished breathlessly, and Homura stared at her.

"...How many damn fetishes do you have?" The time traveler muttered, crossing her arms.

The redhead shook her head. "I don't know," She said earnest. "But so far, you've got all of them."

Homura blushed as Kyouko closed the distance between them, keeping very still as her girlfriend reached out to lightly touch the corner of her glasses. "But why the sudden change? I thought your vision was perfect?" The redhead asked, her crimson eyes fixed on Homura's face. They looked...vaguely hungry.

"I was expending magic on it. I thought it would be economical to switch back," She said smoothly. It wasn't a complete lie, if you thought about it.

"Mmmn," Kyouko agreed, though she didn't seem to be listening. "Not your red ones?"

"They looked childish on me," Homura replied. Kyouko spotted the discarded frames on the desk and walked over, picking them up and turning them over in her hands. Then, after a moment's consideration, she slipped them onto her face.

"Ugh. Wow," She muttered, squinting. Her eyes twitched and adjusted behind the lenses, and Homura couldn't help but laugh at how uncomfortable the redhead looked. "Jeez, Homura. You're blind as a bat."

"Well, sorry," Homura snorted. She privately thought that the red frames looked quite good on Kyouko, as they matched her hair, and for some reason fangs went very nicely with a pair of lenses. Kyouko stuck her hands out in front of her and stumbled in Homura's general direction with a disorientation that was probably exaggerated, but the time traveler smirked nonetheless.

The redhead reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, eyes still spinning dizzyingly. "I don't know how you glasses people live like this," She muttered, holding Homura tighter as she attempted to steady herself.

The shield user rolled her eyes and brought her hands up between them, reaching up to lift the glasses off of Kyouko's nose. "It is a very particular skill we posses," She murmured, before leaning in and giving the redhead a chaste kiss. The girl started in surprise, but Homura let go of the glasses a moment later, the lenses coming down on the redhead's nose with a painful clunk. Homura laughed as Kyouko yelped and rubbed at her nose, turning to open the door with a smirk on her face.

Her victory was short lived, however, as she suddenly felt her hands being pinned against the door, and a moment later Kyouko's weight was keeping her trapped against it.

"Just when did you become such a goddamn tease?" The redhead asked huskily, speaking directly into Homura's ear. The shorter girl shivered when a puff of warm breath tickled the side of her face. Kyouko wasn't exactly crushing her, but she was exerting enough force to let Homura know that she wouldn't be going anywhere. The thought made her shiver again.

"I learn quickly," Homura snarked back, turning her head to the side to speak. Kyouko snorted and moved her arms, and suddenly Homura's wrists were held together above her head by one hand. Kyouko used the other to trace a long, long line from the time traveler's shoulder all the way down to her hip, and Homura squirmed all the while, though her pride kept her from uttering anything.

"While I do appreciate that," Kyouko whispered, "You already know that I prefer to be the dominant one."

Her will was wavering, and she knew it. Kyouko had gone into this battle knowing that she would emerge victorious, and the realization made Homura's knees wobble. "M-Maybe you should earn it, then," She muttered back.

"Mnn...you think?" Kyouko asked innocently, tracing her nose along the shell of Homura's ear. The time traveler gasped softly and her neck jumped, and beneath her fingers Kyouko felt the shield user's pulse speed up. Frowning, Kyouko repeated the same process, though this time she used her tongue, gently touching the warm tip against Homura's ear lobe.

The raven haired girl groaned and arced her back, even though there was no room for her to move. "K-Kyouko-"

The aforementioned girl grinned widely and kissed Homura's lobe, earning another sharp "Nnn!" from the normally stoic Homura. "What's the matter, Hom? Are you weak here?" Without waiting for a response, she closed her lips around the end of one ear and sucked gently, using her tongue to tease the little tab of flesh she held between her teeth.

Homura released a raw moan and pressed her temple against the cool wood of the door, baring her teeth so that it looked like she was trying to bite the door. "Wha...what do you think?" She hissed, though her voice petered out into a ragged breath at the end. Kyouko simply laughed throatily and drew her hand up the length of Homura's leg, all the while peppering the area on and around the girl's ear with wet kisses.

The shield user keened and exhaled loudly, and Kyouko's pride soared. Yes, this was what she loved. To have Homura, who was always scolding her, always reprimanding her, reduced to a mewling mess. Privately, she filed this newest discovery away in her mind for further analysis. Homura wasn't the only one compiling data, now. Ears, neck, collarbone; these were a few of the places where the time traveler liked it best, and it gave Kyouko great pride to know this.

Tilting her head slightly, she slipped Homura's earlobe between her incisors, nibbling gently on the pliant flesh, as if she intended to pierce it. The girl whined and clawed at the door, fighting against Kyouko's grip in an attempt to get at the redhead herself.

What was more, Homura liked getting bitten, though she would never admit it herself. But Kyouko knew.

She knew because the girl never complained about the little bite marks she would leave sometimes.

Homura continued to squirm beneath her, and Kyouko finally relented, releasing her grip on the time traveler's wrists. The girl turned around and pulled her close almost immediately, and the redhead was more than happy to oblige. They kissed with no regard for delicacy, going after each other's weak spots with the most criminal of intents. Their glasses clicked and pressed against each other as they pressed against each other, making Homura feel feverish.

They were both a little short on breath, however, and they separated soon after. Homura sucked in deep breaths and struggled to keep herself from crying out again; Kyouko had one leg between hers, and every time they embraced their hips pressed deliciously close to each other. She didn't know if she had the discipline necessary to control herself beyond that.

Reaching out, she twisted Kyouko's collar in her fist, holding the redhead there until she could regain her breath.

Just then, the phone started ringing.

"Don't answer that." It was a warning, but Homura was unfazed. Craning her neck, she tried to read the caller ID, which Kyouko took as an opportunity to start kissing her there, too.

"It's Kiku," Homura murmured, wiggling one hand free. "It might be important."

"Or maybe not," Kyouko argued, looking up at the time traveler. Homura's chest throbbed when she looked into those eyes, and the pure ambition that resided there, and for a moment she was tempted to ignore the call and dive back into what they had been doing. But the phone rang shrilly again, and she knew that Kiku rarely called, if ever. It was most likely about something important.

"I'm going to answer it," She said bluntly, reaching for the receiver. Kyouko sighed and relaxed her gaze, resting her had against Homura's chest.

"Fine."

Picking up the receiver, she accepted the call and pressed it against her ear. Then she frowned and switched to the other side. Her right ear was still a little...not dry. Plus it still buzzed. "Hello?"

"Homura? Hey!" The illusionist's voice rang clearly from the other end of the line. Kyouko was close enough to hear it as well, and she curled her fists up against Homura's belly, which she let pass without mention. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Homura replied neutrally. She might as well make this brief, for Kyouko's sake. "Was there something you needed?"

"Oh right!" There was an embarrassed laugh from the receiver, and Kyouko snorted softly. "I actually needed to ask you for a little favor Homura. Maybe a little help between friends. What do you say?"

"Depends on what it is," She replied. Even Kyouko looked up curiously.

"It's about what Junko told me about," Kiku said, sounding timid. "To be honest, I don't know the first thing about any of this business stuff...so I was wondering if you could do some research for me. I don't really have a computer of my own, plus I've never been that great at digging up information. I figured having you explain it to me would be more efficient."

Research? Homura thought, as Kyouko furrowed her brows in confusion. She only knew slightly more than Kiku did, but she supposed she was more suited to gather information than the brunette was. "Sure," She agreed, adjusting her grip on the receiver. "I can do that."

"Really? Thanks, Homura!" Kiku sounded unnecessarily happy, but she paid no mind. "I'll repay you somehow, someday. Though I don't really know how..."

"If you can manage to get through Mami's thick head, I'll be satisfied," Homura said bemusedly.

Kiku laughed over the line. "Tell me about it...thanks again, Homura. Really."

"No problem."

"Oh, I've got to go. We'll talk later. Mwah!"

Kyouko flinched at the sound of Kiku apparently kissing her own phone, and the call was terminated. Homura blinked, slightly shocked herself, but she rolled her eyes and dismissed it as a faucet of the girl's personality. The redhead looked less than pleased, however, and she glared at the phone as Homura placed it back on its stand.

"What were you guys talking about?" She asked.

"It's...kind of a long story," Homura admitted. Kyouko just frowned at her.

"So...are you two like, good friends now?" The redhead muttered, obviously bothered by the thought.

Homura was about to respond when the phone rang again.

"God damn it," Kyouko swore, as the shield user pursed her lips and answered the call.

"Hello...?"

"Hey, Homura. You busy today?" It was Mishki this time, sounding chipper.

The time traveler sighed, feeling another favor incoming. "Not particularly. Why?"

"I...kind of need you to watch the twins for a few hours," The guide said. "I said I was trying to find a job somewhere, and a few of my old connections hooked me up with an interview. It's today, but I can't really leave these two alone at home for that long..."

Homura held the receiver away from her head and looked down at Kyouko, who was now jumping with excitement. "Say yes! Say yes!" The redhead insisted, poking Homura vigorously to advance her point. She rolled her eyes and lifted the receiver again.

"Sure thing, Mishki. We can watch them for a bit." Kyouko silently cheered.

"Really? Great! I'll be over in a bit."

"Nice place you got here," The guide said, sliding slowly into the apartment.

"Please. It's old," Homura said, leading the woman to her living room. It occurred to her that Mishki had never visited her home before. Well, another milestone reached.

The twins yelled in delight when they spotted Kyouko, and left Mishki to run for the redhead's legs. The spear user laughed and squatted to ruffle their bushy heads, greeting them in a language Homura didn't quite understand.

"Would you like a drink before you go?" Homura asked.

Mishki checked her watch before answering. "Sure. I've got a little time," She said. The woman was dressed formally for what felt like the first time, and the getup made her look more her actual age. Homura found the sight a little disconcerting.

"I'll get it," Kyouko volunteered, heading off towards the kitchen. Homura nodded and went to retrieve her laptop instead, setting the computer atop the coffee table.

"So, what kind of job are you being interviewed for?" Homura asked, slowly booting up her computer.

"Uhh..." Mishki reached into her pocket and fished out a small business card. "Not sure, actually. A friend told me these guys needed someone to help out around the office, plus maybe learn the ropes over time. Could turn into a full fledged job at some point." She squinted at the card. "Someone named Junko Kaname?"

Homura, who had been typing, stopped abruptly. "Excuse me?"

"You know her?"

"Yes," The shield user said, chewing on the thought before resuming her typing. "The world is indeed a small place."

"Sure doesn't feel that way."

The door was pushed open, and Kyouko traipsed in with the twins in tow, a tray of green tea in hand. "Here you go," She offered, handing a cup to Mishki. The guide graciously accepted it and took a deep gulp.

"Whatchu doin'?" Kyouko asked, leaning over Homura's shoulder.

"Researching," She said, shifting uncomfortably. Kyouko was a little close, and Mishki was staring. She didn't mind losing a little control when they were in private, but having other people around still cowed her. "Kiku said she needed a little help with something."

"Oh," Kyouko agreed, suddenly uninterested. "I'll go put this away." She waved the tray in the air before disappearing again.

Mishki gazed amusedly at the door before shifting her gaze back to Homura. "You know," She said, "You could afford to be a little more considerate of Kyouko."

Homura glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

"You mentioned Kiku right in front of her. She was obviously jealous."

Homura frowned and continued typing, eyes tracking across the screen. "Kyouko doesn't get jealous."

"Really?" Mishki said drily, and something in her tone made Homura look up again. Thinking back, she recalled all the times she had mentioned the brunette around the house. Kyouko hadn't seemed particularly delighted during any of those times, but jealousy...for what reason? It wasn't like she was going anywhere.

"Doesn't seem very logical to me." She went back to her research.

"I would agree with you," Mishki allowed, finishing the rest of her drink. "But remember, Homura, that Kyouko has lost a lot of important people in her life. Her mother, father and sister, the adoration of the church members...oh, don't look at me like that. Someone like me doesn't live in Kazamino without learning the story somewhere."

Homura frowned at her, taking her hands off the keyboard. She gazed at the small column of steam rising from her own cup. "And your point is?"

"Someone who's been through all that is very tough to get close to," Mishki continued. "You know that more than anyone. Kyouko's armor is almost impregnable when it comes to people; I've seen it firsthand. But even more than that, Homura, a person who guards their heart so closely gives it all back when they do decide to open up. What I'm saying, essentially, is that people like Kyouko tend to be rather...possessive."

Homura stared at her keyboard, unsure of what to say, or if she were somehow to blame for this.

Mishki smiled. "Just a word to the wise," She said simply. Then she rose from her seat. "I've got to run. I'll see you later, hopefully employed."

"Good luck," Homura said, earnestly.

"Thanks." The guide was about to turn away when she paused, sniffing the air.

"What's wrong?"

Mishki frowned, then shook her head. "Nothing," She said.

"Just smells like magic in here."

Homura had just seen Mishki off at the door when she heard a loud crashing sound from the kitchen.

When she hurried over, she saw Four crying loudly next to the shattered ruins of a coffee mug, the splintered shards of ceramic scattering across the tiles. Kyouko was trying desperately to calm the child down, but to no avail. The tears just kept coming, and Five watched nervously from the corner, unsure of how to take the situation.

"Did she drop something?" Homura asked, walking gingerly over to the broken mug.

"Yeah. Knocked it over while they were running around," Kyouko murmured. Leaning forward, she gently wiped the tears away from Four's cheeks. "Come on, buddy. It's no big deal. Homura hates that mug, anyway. No harm." The child sniffled, nose still running, but seemed to make a concerted effort to stem the flow of tears. Kyouko smiled approvingly and ruffled the kid's hair, before standing up and ushering both twins out of the kitchen.

"Don't want them to cut themselves on the shards," Kyouko said. "I'll go calm them down; do you mind cleaning up?"

"Sure," Homura said, and Kyouko vanished through the door.

She turned and surveyed the damage. She was going to need the dustpan for this; she didn't feel safe about touching all that ceramic with her bare hands. Turning, she stepped carefully past the shards and went into the closet, digging around for the right equipment.

It was for this reason that she failed to notice Four, who had eluded Kyouko's gaze and decided to trot back into the kitchen, approaching the shattered remains of the mug with a vague sense of wonder. Reaching down, the twin picked up what was left of the cup.

"There," Homura muttered, locating the dustpan at last. "Now to-"

Her monologue was cut short when there was a blinding flash of light behind her, and a deep boom rumbled through the walls of the house. Homura flinched and stumbled backwards, falling to the ground as throwing her arms above her head, assuming an earthquake. The tremor faded almost instantaneously, however, and Homura stumbled to her feet, running towards the back of the kitchen, where the quake had originated.

"Homura! Four? Are you guys okay?" Kyouko shouted, sprinting towards the kitchen. Throwing the door aside, she burst through and looked around wildly, fearing the worst.

What she saw didn't exactly meet her expectations.

All she saw was Four, the innocent twin bawling loudly again, rivulets of fat tears streaking down the sides of her face. The walls around her were blackened with soot, and the floor smoldered.

And in front of her, lay the mug.

Clean, unbroken, just as it had been before.

Almost didn't update today, but I managed to stay on schedule. I'm hoping to conclude this story by the beginning of June, but that's probably a little too ambitious. We'll see. I won't be home for most of the summer, and I'd hate to leave long gaps between updates again.

Tell me what you guys think about Kiku and Mami's relationship, and the twins. Your thoughts are always appreciated.

And since most people seem to want an M rated chapter, I'll work it into the story. The plot will be unchanged either way. I might even write more than one, but if I ever do, I would make it into a side story of some sort. But that's something else entirely.

Thanks for reading!

~Banshee