Chapter 36
Girl Talk
This chick is one cold customer, that's for damn sure. Kyoko couldn't help but see the logic behind Homura's twisted reasoning. If you were willing to look at human beings as nothing more the objects, merely pieces on a game board to be used or sacrificed as needed...
Uncomfortably aware of how closely the black-haired girl's philosophy mirrored her own, Kyoko shifted, trying to get feeling back in her cheeks. They'd been sitting on this ledge for a while. I trust my instincts; those gut feelings have kept me alive more times that I can remember. If I was totally convinced that someone was an imminent threat, I'd take them out. Thinking, she remembered stomping down, feeling the crystalline crunch that had put an end to the desperate, pleading voice calling for her to come back, to help, that she was sorry-
It's not the same, Kyoko thought, clenching her fists. Homura glanced down upon hearing knuckles cracking, too drained from her recent explanation to wonder. Not at all. That girl was going to go Witch on us- She stopped, restarting. She was a proven enemy, and had already attacked- Hmm. The red-head couldn't help but think Homura's response to that would be something along the lines of 'Witch Sayaka has attacked Madoka, and myself, dozens of times.'
The truth was, the major difference between the two girls was Kyoko cared about Sayaka. She didn't give a shit about that stupid club-wielding Amazon. But for Kyoko, that difference was enough. She didn't consider for a second that someone may have, in turn, cared for the opponent she'd so casually crushed. She hadn't killed Homura herself... did that mean she cared about the mysterious girl? Maybe that was the way to get Homura off her Sayaka fixation. If there was a way to get them to be friends...
Kyoko choked on the likelihood of her musings, drawing the purple gaze of the other girl. Her mind flitted to something else that the at-least-partially crazy girl had said. Goddammit Homura, why'd you have to tell me that stupid fucking boy is her goddamn familiar? Every time she thought of that kid, and the effect he had on her, her!, blunette... it made her feel this sense of roiling, uncontrollable rage and uncertainty, swirling around inside her chest. It sucked; she wasn't used to feeling jealous of anything. "Salt in my wounds," Kyoko muttered bitterly.
Homura raised an eyebrow, having strained to recover her cool after the fight. Her face was beginning to heal, albeit slower than Kyoko's regeneration; the nose only hurt horribly now, and earlier Kyoko had assured her it had resumed its normal position. At the moment, Kyoko gave a frustrated grunt at the other girl's unspoken request for elaboration. She opened her mouth, and the black-haired girl waited, blandly expectant. The mouth closed, Kyoko turning back to look down at the park below them.
Kyoko tried again, subtly clearing her throat by hocking up a nice gob of phlegm and spitting loudly over the side of the building. She peeked over the edge, straight down, to see if there was anyone walking below. Nope. Damn. "Well, you're wrong. That's not how it played out, and it ain't gonna." Homura stared at her. Kyoko grimaced. "What?"
"If it does happen-"
Kyoko stopped her hand from slapping the transfer student upside the head, dexterously turning the motion into the universal sign for "Stop!" Homura didn't blink, but couldn't keep her head from tilting back a few centimeters as she found herself staring at the red-head's palm.
"If it does happen, which it won't, but just to make you feel better... if it does, then I'll do it."
Homura couldn't believe Kyoko was so dense. She'd explained and explained. "But, as I have explained, that's what leads to your-"
"This time's different! How many times do I gotta tell you that, Akemi? You're tough, I'm tough, we both have a lot of shit on our plates here, so let's agree to take care of our own business."
"So you say, but-"
Am I gonna have to pound this bitch again, Kyoko thought with none of her usual delight at the prospect of imminent combat. The thought was, more than anything, tired. "No buts. She's mine. My responsibility."
Kyoko could see the unease in the purple eyes that stared at her, almost in disbelief. "After everything I told you... and I told you more than I even told Madoka!" Homura began, but the red-head stared at her in shock.
"You told that pinkette you're a time traveler?" Kyoko honest-to-god goggled. "Did you tell her you're here to rescue her?" Homura stared at her feet, her face the color of her questioner's hair. "Oh man, you got it bad." Seeing the uncharacteristic squirming Homura was doing, obviously uncomfortable, Kyoko debated dropping the subject or pressing on. "What, uh, what did she... how did she react?"
Homura looked up, regaining a little composure as she stared at the red-head coolly. "Not that it's any of your concern, but for your information we're spending the night together. Tonight." Homura's cheeks were already in full bloom, but she felt another wash of heat as the blood once again rushed to her face. "We're having a slumber party, and-" She broke off, recalling Kyoko and Sayaka had been invited to that very party by Madoka in a fit of glee at their chance reunion earlier in the afternoon.
Homura was amazed. An hour after suffering the worst defeat of her career to the most insufferable opponent she'd ever encountered, the black-haired girl was feeling an invigorating sense of... it was almost indescribable. It was like all of the worries and doubts that had plagued her, building up a more crushing weight after each and every failure, making each retry more and more difficult... all that pressure had evaporated.
Partly, it was because she realized she was alive! That abrupt, jarring and perspective-altering realization that can only come about after a close brush with the immediate possibility of death. And with that new-found appreciation came an understanding that she had something to live for. A wonderful, beautiful person she cherished more than anything else in the world, and would fight and even die to protect.
Homura's eyes were sparkling with sudden emotion, something Kyoko found extremely unsettling. "I have to save her," the purple-eye girl muttered to herself.
"We'll save Madoka," Kyoko tried to reassure the girl she felt was teetering on the brink. She'd been sad, almost, to see this change in the girl. She'd been so cold and scary before... well, the cool kind of scary. Not the actually frighteningly 'I'm not sure what she'll do next because there's no predicting a psychopath' kind of scary. "We'll save them both," she added in a harsh whisper.
She almost missed Homura's startled glance in her direction. "M-Madoka...?"
Kyoko rolled her eyes to gain a second to think, intrigued by the way she'd seemed to have broken the girl's thoughts about something else entirely. The veteran was crafty, though, and played along without skipping a beat. "Uh, yeah, it's kinda obvious, you know, the way you're always showing up around that little pinkette."
"We all have those we care about," the black-haired girl stated, in Kyoko's mind somewhat evasively. "Even, apparently, you."
The red head stared, having nothing to say to that. A month ago, she would have denied such an accusation with all the vehemence she could have mustered, which was a considerable amount. A week ago, she'd have still scoffed. A few days ago, while she'd been chasing that crazy-assed blunette around town burning through her energy killing worthless Familiars, she'd have had to bite back on the automatic denial that came second nature to her. If she'd bothered being honest with herself, that is.
Now... she couldn't deny it. Didn't even want to.
It was so weird. Just thinking about Sayaka made Kyoko's heart all fluttery, and she carefully had to control her breathing under the intense purple gaze of the other girl. It kind of pissed her off, that she was basically no longer in total control over the one thing she had control over: herself.
She forced her mind to switch gears. "One thing I don't get," she began, looking back at Homura. "You said you need me to help you fight Walpurgisnacht-"
"Fight Walpurgis on Walpurgisnacht," Homura corrected.
"Whatever." Stupid foreign names. "What's a purgis, anyway? Never mind," she continued, cutting off Homura's answer, recognizing the dour pre-lecture face easily enough. "How is killing Sayaka, or me for that matter, helping you out in your fight?"
"I assume you don't want me to re-explain all of the reasons why that girl is dangerous. Your real question is how would killing her help you. Well, aside from the fact that when you are forced to witness her ultimate, inevitable fate-"
"Hom!"
"You shouldn't ignore what I'm telling you, Kyoko. I would have just told you I saw her turn into a Witch." Kyoko stared. "Madoka as well. You would have been upset, and used some of that fury in the upcoming battle. You are one of the few fighters I've encountered who can use their anger so effectively in battle. Miki-san is an example of how fighting with your heart can be a weakness."
Looking up at the glaring red-head, Homura shrugged. "You wouldn't have been dead. That's good enough for me. But, when you found me... well, would you have let me walk away once you realized what I had been about to do? I didn't want to harm you, Kyoko, but... I can't fail, either.
"And you misinterpret our situation. I would like you as an ally in the upcoming battle. I don't need you to fight Walpurgis. I don't need anyone, for anything." Kyoko tried to read the lie on Homura's face, but her expression was inscrutable once again.
"Whatever you say, Akemi-san," Kyoko spat. Then, her eyes gleaming with cunning, she got up and walked back toward the stairwell. Homura waited patiently, with something she was amazed to realize was excitement building within her. Back where she'd dropped a certain object. "I... er, got you something. From our trip." The red-head's long ponytail nearly brushed the ground as she bent over to pick something just beyond eyesight. "Ironic, since I busted your other gun. Hope you don't mind that I tossed it; it was in pieces." She paused. "By the way, shooting towards that playground...? That kinda shit better not happen again."
Homura winced at the loss of her beloved silenced friend, shattered at the prospect of having to track down a new rifle capable of firing subsonic ammunition. Her first response was a defensive "Why do you suddenly care?" Seeing the look in the narrowed crimson eyes, she added "They were never in danger. I account for everything." She almost sighed as she pulled it off, seeing the other girl swallow her lie. In truth, she hadn't really thought of anything once she'd seen the red blur coming at her.
The pony tailed girl grunted. Purple eyes widened as Kyoko brought out the combat shotgun she'd lugged across two cities and hundreds of kilometers awkwardly inside her shirt. Despite the constant henpecking of a nervous Sayaka. Sheesh, that chick needs to learn how to give things a rest. She held it out, feeling strangely pleased at the amazed expression in the other girl's face. "It's, uhhhm, a gun," she finished lamely.
"It's... it's beautiful," Homura sighed, unable to contain herself. She reached out greedily. Kyoko held it up, carelessly pointing the barrel directly at the transfer student, who yanked it aside. "Careful!" she snapped with a bit of her old coldness. Kyoko couldn't keep a smile flashing across her face; she had been totally right about Homura's gun fetish, actually watching the drops of sweat form on the girl's forehead as she gazed in what the red-head could only consider outright admiration at the weapon. It looked pretty plain to Kyoko, reminiscent of one of those rifles American soldiers always carried in movies, but shorter and uglier.
"Relax, it's not loaded or anything," Kyoko said reassuringly.
"You are certain of that?" was Homura's response. Kyoko began wondering if in fact that was true. She'd assumed that armored chick had blown her whole load, and told Sayaka the same thing again and again during the trip, but now that she thought about it-
Homura pointed the gun at Kyoko's face, who was becoming less confident by the second that the gun was unloaded. It was strange, but that two centimeter wide barrel seemed to encompass her entire field of vision. Which oddly triggered a memory of a different small hole dominating her attention. "Uhh..."
Homura spun the gun, pointing it at the stairwell door and pulling the trigger. A series of rapid BOOMs echoed across the rooftops. Kyoko covered her ears. Shit! And to think, at one point during the journey I'd been pointing the damn thing at that old man, and even pulled back on the trigger a few times, just playing around. Must have had the safety on, she thought wonderingly. She couldn't help admiring the damage. Not as fun as pounding something yourself, though.
"It's an AA-12 is a fully automatic, gas operated, ultra-low recoil twelve gauge shotgun designed specifically for military applications. It can burn through nearly three hundred rounds a minute, which is why it has this big thirty-two shell drum. There's such little recoil it's perfect for hosing down wide areas, especially in confined spaces like inside buildings. You can put so many different kinds of ammunition in it, and if I can get my hands on some there's even a grenade round I'm dying to try out.
"Even the Russians can't get their hands on this, how did you-"
"Have fun at Madoka's," Kyoko interrupted, standing and giving a half-assed wave. Russians? Homura's expression changed, startled to hear the red-head express anything resembling well-wishing and finally deigning to use her friend's actual name. She waited for the other shoe to drop, but Kyoko resumed staring out at the city, her long, thick ponytail swaying in the breeze. The black-haired girl caressed her new friend's butt, rubbing her fingers lovingly along the smooth, bare flanks. She put it to her shoulder, imagining the recoil, then lay the shotgun down reluctantly and looked over at Kyoko on the ledge.
"You've been invited-" Homura began, then stopped in dismay. It would be so much better if both those girls failed to show up tonight, no reason to... but Kyoko was laughing, and not in the nice way. Homura frowned, wondering if she had ever heard a real laugh out of the other veteran.
"Uh, yeah no. I won't be attending that makeover fest." Kyoko could actually feel the black-haired girl's frown glowering at her back. Inwardly, she sighed. Outwardly, she said, "Hey look, I got nothing against your pinkette." Better yours than Sayaka's, Kyoko thought, instantly feeling a little petty. But just a little. "I'm just not the rainbows and fluffy bunnies kinda girl. Just... play nice with Sayaka." She tried to make it sound less like a warning than a request.
Homura smiled inwardly. Kyoko was certainly acting funny, but hearing the request dripping with her characteristic undercurrent of intimidation was somehow heartening. She stood. "May I..." Oh, how it stuck in her throat. She couldn't even finish the... request.
Kyoko shrugged absently. "It's your shield." She couldn't help glancing back as Homura retrieved her silvery disk, pleased when she made no comment. Kyoko had played around with the thing as she'd gone to retrieve a special package that had been left in the grass at the park. Those weird gears and shit she found inside had taken on an entirely new meaning during Homura's "explanation." She watched the girl slip it over her forearm, adjusting something behind it with her other hand. Then she was holding a Grief Seed, and Kyoko couldn't keep a hungry gleam of interest from her eyes.
Homura noticed, had in fact anticipated the reaction. The shield vanished, drawing the red-head's awareness for a brief moment. Holding the spiked orb between her thumb and forefinger, so black it seemed to radiate shadow, she touched the object to the jeweled lavender egg she held in her hands. It was pretty dark, Kyoko mused. Either she used up a lot of energy, or she'd already been pretty drained before she'd tried to kill-
Taking a breath, Kyoko focused her thoughts away from that train of events and the emotional turmoil they created. One part of her, the largest part, was shaken at the thought that she could have lost her companion, after all they had been through. To, essentially, what amounted to a classmate! It enraged her, and that significant portion of her very soul had called out, and continued to call out, for the utter destruction of the other girl. The threat to her... to her love. The one she loved. Do I really love her? Kyoko wondered. It just felt like she'd known her for a long time, but really... She nodded in affirmation to herself. Yep, it felt like it. What else mattered? She had found the person who, for some bizarre and mysterious reason, had made her feel that life was worth living again. She didn't want to go back to running out the clock. A threat to the blunette was existential, and demanded an ultimate form of resolution.
"Here," Homura offered, extending a hand holding the even darker Grief Seed. "There's another hit left." Kyoko considered, then shrugged. Spoils of war, and all, she thought. This certainly wasn't a gift. But, since Sayaka had their only remaining Grief Seed...
Another, less visceral and more crafty part of the red-head didn't want to hate the black-haired girl. She was powerful, a fellow badass, and she seemed to know a lot about what was going on. Kyoko wanted, more than anything, to be able to get some answers for the blunette, and figure out what the hell to do about her situation. Perhaps Homura was someone who'd be able to help with that. The only other option she could think of didn't bear thinking about, given their situation. Besides, there were things about the transfer student that Kyoko respected, even admired. Even if she was an obsessive, slightly-unhinged potential loose cannon. Initially, Kyoko had seen the other girl's jaded exterior as a poor imitation of her own perfected nonchalance about life. But she'd come to see the determination that guided the girl's actions, cold and calculating, and would have almost envied her for her resolve if her own had not matched it already. Granted, she had doubts about her... clarity of mind. The red-head almost chuckled, thinking Stubborn and crazy. Who does that remind me of?
Homura watched patiently, but sighed in resignation as the other girl slipped the Seed into the pocket of her shorts, all the while staring at her strangely. Where is it? the transfer student couldn't help obsessing.
The problem was, Akemi Homura was right. Kyoko could feel it. She was so close to Sayaka. Too close. It was like the blunette was some kind of perfect drug, suddenly owning a majority share of her life. Kyoko turned back to the city in an effort to hide the scowl that was suddenly etched upon her face. Stupid, weak. But... I can't help it.
In some ways, it was almost reassuring to know that, when Sayaka fell, Kyoko herself was not far to follow. Usually. In the other timelines. If Homura was to be believed. She's batshit crazy, all right, but it's hard to ignore how certain she is. Regardless of its truth or relevance, it made the red-head feel like maybe it was destiny or something, and not the fact that, after all this time and suffering and surviving and thriving, she had never been anything other than a weak, pathetic little girl back in pig-tails who couldn't bear the thought of going on living after losing her one and only friend.
Pathetic.
Homura heard the red-head sniff and was instantly alert. She watched the older girl attempt to poorly mask what was clearly an eye-wiping motion with a faded green sleeve. What is wrong with her? Homura wondered, things suddenly look bleaker. This Kyoko seemed unstable. Which was saying a lot, considering her penchant for bizarre and irrational behavior in the past. In the past, though, Homura had been able to see what had motivated the older girl. Objectively, at least. She had long ago lost count of how many times she'd repeated the same things over and over and over. It could have been a hundred. Or fifty. A thousand? Probably not, but who knows? It had to be more than twenty, because she could think of twenty ways she'd seen Tomoe Mami die, and some had repeated while other times she had not died at all. Not recently, though, Homura thought in satisfaction. So at least that many.
If they were all real memories, that is.
When the same things happened again and again, and the brief flashes of change or newness often had catastophic results, it became difficult to tell what was real from what you merely thought you remembered. Nightmares... something about reliving the same moments inevitably, with so little change, played upon the unconscious. It made it difficult to... disginguish between what was real, and what maybe wasn't. Her sleeping mind was plagued by an electric typhoon of vivid nightmares. Even the dreams, the nice ones, upon awakening would only serve to fuel her growing despair, like some goal that had been attained at great cost being snatched away by the cruel fingers of the rising sun. She'd lay there, gasping and shivering in her sweat-soaked sheets, watching the bar of light creep across the ceiling, wondering what was real. Was anything?
Her heart skipped a beat, thinking about a night at the Kaname residence lying before her.
Turning, Homura headed towards the edge of the building, disappearing over the side.
Narrowed crimson eyes watched the retreating figure of Akemi Homura, watching the wind take her long, silky black hair as she descended the fire escape. Then, quicker than the veteran's eyes could catch, the enigmatic girl was gone.
Show off, Kyoko thought smugly, before starting and spinning around. Crouching, she scanned the rooftop, barely able to keep herself from moving, making herself as difficult a target as possible. Nothing. The rooftop was empty. Quickly, she scanned the surrounding buildings, but no tell-tale silhouette or gleam of glass from a sniper's scope were there to justify this sudden burst of nerves. Shaking her head, she went back to smiling in self-satisfaction.
"Good talk," she murmured. Apparently, she was pretty good at this girly shit. It was too bad she couldn't brag about it to the blunette.
Half an hour later, an oblivious Sayaka had basically tricked her into attending Madoka's slumber party. Akemi's totally going to think I'm Sayaka's bitch! After everything I said... damn stupid cocky mouth! Sayaka had also been convinced, hopefully, to avoid confronting Homura.
All the time-travel stuff could wait. Of the "talk," the less that was said the better. Sayaka wouldn't understand, even though she and Kyoko had begun forming their strangely compelling bond whilst beating the piss out of one another.
Then Sayaka had attacked and molested her, and suddenly there was a new problem in front of her.
"We're both each other's waifus! How about that?" Kyoko asked, desperately hopeful. Sayaka shook her head sternly.
"Oh no, no way. There's only one waifu in the relationship, and you practically begged to be mine. Who am I to turn you down? So..."
"Begged?" That was so not fair. "More like demanded," Kyoko began, then stopped. Oh, wait. Shit.
Sayaka smiled winningly. Kyoko buried her face in her hands.
Then the younger girl's phone had rang. Still smiling, she pulled it out, but her humor quickly faded as she looked at the screen. "Um, one second," she said, walking a few paces off before answering. She continued walking away, but not before Kyoko heard what sounded like shouting through the tinny speakers.
She watched her friend's back intently, the angry shaking of her head, the sudden way her shoulders slumped, even the way her profile changed as she heaved a big sigh. Man, she really does wear her heart on her cape. It was informative, but each impression only increased her sense of worry.
Sayaka put away her phone, but stayed where she was, bringing up her arm to wipe at her eyes. She was probably trying to be circumspect, but... Oh god, is it that obvious? Kyoko wondered, dismayed for two entirely separate reasons. She debated giving the blunette a few moments to compose herself, if that's what she needed, but decided what she probably needed most was some physical contact to get her mind off her worries and proceeded to put her thoughts into action.
"Ahh, get off, Kyoko. Sorry," Sayaka muttered with a bit of a sniffle. Kyoko didn't let go, and felt the surprisingly tense girl go limp.
"That's right, don't resist," she tried to coo soothingly. It came out strangely creepy, and Sayaka sputtered in a brief fit of laughter. "What's wrong, lovah?" Kyoko tried out, seeing the blunette's eyes widen slightly at the new name.
"That... was my dad." Kyoko stared, not wanting to say Duuuh aloud. Sayaka said it made her sound dumb, and Mami had said the exact same thing, so maybe there was something to that, but it was just so appropriate sometimes! Sayaka took her silence for rapt attention. "So, the deal is, I'm... technically, at least, grounded." She winced: it made her sound like such a little kid or something! Kyoko was stunned. "It's cuz, well, with me, um, being gone, missing school to, you know, hunt down dangerous familiars..." The red-head was still staring. "And then... the whole 'transported to another city' thing didn't help my attendance any." Sayaka sighed. "Who knew the damage you could do to your life in one lousy week!"
Kyoko's breath caught for a moment. This week had felt like forever to her, in the best way possible. And she knew exactly how much damage your life could sustain in a week. But, more importantly at the moment...
"So... we don't have to go to the slumber party?" Kyoko was furious to find a part of herself was actually disappointed. A small part, probably the kind that liked bunnies. The veteran resolved to eat something made from rabbits at the earliest opportunity. I am not getting soft!
Sayaka's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Hell yes we're going! I just need to go home, wait for my parents to leave, since they're going out to a friend's later, and then I'll head over and-"
"Wait, they just trust you to stay home when you're grounded?"
Sayaka batted her eyelashes. "You know what an honorable young lady I am," she said, self-mocking but also a little hopeful for confirmation. Kyoko saw this and smiled.
"Yes, indeed I do," she said wickedly, her tone neither confirming nor denying the blunette's statement.
"But, no, they don't trust me," Sayaka sighed, again embarrassed. "They call me on my phone to check in."
"That's easy to get arou-"
"A video call."
Kyoko felt beaten. "Uhhh."
"It's okay!" Sayaka said gleefully. "I'm usually just laying in bed when they call." Sulking, Kyoko guessed instantly, but didn't want to say it aloud, which was a good thing. Coincidentally, that is exactly what the blunette's parents called it, and Sayaka would have been very upset indeed. "I'll just take down my poster, bring it over to Madoka's and when they call I'll be laying down and that's all they'll really see! They'll think I'm in bed!"
Kyoko was doubtful. It seemed overly complex. "Why don't I just come over for a bit-"
Sayaka shook her head stubbornly. "No, I want to see Madoka, and I want to hang out with you for more than a couple hours," she explained.
"It will be a good couple of hours, I promise," Kyoko promised emphatically, expressing her intentions with waggling eyebrows. Sayaka grinned and punched her arm, like it was all just a good joke or something.
"My parents won't be gone that long."
Kyoko frowned. Wasn't that all the more reason not to leave? "But if they come back and you're not-"
"They've usually, you know, had a couple by the end of the evening. They won't even check on me, probably go straight to bed. Just in case, I'll put some pillows or something under my blanket."
"I don't know..." Wait a sec, Kyoko thought, catching herself. Why am I all of a sudden Miss Play-it-Cautious?
"It will be fine! And totally worth it!" Sayaka promised, both to her girlfriend and to herself. "I just need to get back home and wait them out. I'll call you once I'm heading out; you still have that phone, right?" Kyoko rolled her eyes, her expression saying Of course, idiot!
Surreptitiously, however, she patted her back pocket, feeling her new phone snugly inside. It was a cheap piece of crap burner, since, aside from her clothing, her possessions rarely survived longer than a month or two. Sayaka had been confused at her decision, but had finally given up trying to get her to spent a fortune on a more advanced phone. She'd even kept saying things like,"With one of these, we could video chat," and "Are you sure you don't want to get a phone that can at least use apps?" Kyoko had confronted her, finally, asking why she was so okay with her spending the wad of stolen money, a substantial chunk of which currently resided in her pocket. Sayaka had hemmed and hawed, trying to justify herself. "Well, it's stolen money anyway, and, it's not for me! I thought we had a deal, kind of, at least, to not, um, judge each other so much? I wouldn't want a gift you bought me with that," Kyoko had thought at that point Sayaka had been dropping a fairly heavy hint, but listened as she continued, "but since you're going to anyway buy something anyway, for yourself, you might as well get something good with it."
For her own reasons, and just perhaps a little bit motivated by a need to spite Sayaka and show a flash of independence, she'd bought a cheap, prepaid phone, a violent pink with green buttons. Actual buttons. Sayaka had stared in fascination. That had been hours ago, when they'd first arrived. It made her feel a little self conscious at taking the device out.
Sayaka nodded as Kyoko confirmed she still had the phone, but apparently wasn't quite done. She kicked the ground nervously, building herself up to something. Kyoko was immediately concerned. "Hey Kyoko, there's just one thing... since, you know, it's at Madoka's house... well, her parents, and that pesky little brother of hers, and then Madoka and Akemi-san will be there..."
Kyoko waited expectantly, while Sayaka hoped the red-head would pick up on her sentiment. "What?" the veteran finally demanded.
"Let's, you know. Hit the, um, 'hands off' button. Just for tonight!" she added quickly. "There's too many people, and, well, we're guests, after all, and..." Kyoko was giving her a strange look. Hurt and disappointment and surprise and...
"Kyoko, are you pouting?"
"No." Kyoko muttered, crossing her arms and pouting. This is gonna suck.
Okay! Are we there yet? Hmm, I think so. Thanks for your patience!
Thanks for the feedback! Please keep me informed of your confusion, thoughts and/or speculation.