Les Fleurs du Mal – Even If Just a Little Bit
Disclaimer: In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't own Puella Magi Madoka Magica. All Madoka-related characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of Studio SHAFT and Gen Urobuchi.
[-]
Shortly after dawn the following morning, Homura Akemi found herself blinking awake.
In and of itself that was unusual, because it meant she'd been sleeping. It'd been about eight years, chronologically speaking, since her body had actually required sleep, and now that she was no longer sharing a room with Madoka there was no need to pretend otherwise.
But she'd simply been…so tired, after last night. The sheer number of balls she had to juggle in the air at any given time – watching over Madoka, preventing any more Magical Girls from Awakening, taking care of Mami Tomoe, watching over Madoka, keeping up with her schoolwork, and watching over Madoka – threatened to overwhelm her even at the best of times.
And she'd been far from her best for at least three days now. Ever since Madoka had…
Homura unconsciously brushed her fingers across her lips, even as she forced the thoughts out of her head. She didn't have time for this right now.
Because her conversation with Oriko Mikuni had changed everything. She wasn't especially worried about the seer or her attack dog; she'd killed them dozens upon dozens of times before, and that was when she was "merely" a Magical Girl. She could deal with them at any time, ultimately.
But whether purposefully or by total accident, the oracle had shared her visions with one of the few girls whose Awakening could genuinely threaten the fragile balance of Homura's world.
Nagisa Momoe. If Sayaka Miki could be said to be "secretary" to the Law of Cycles, then the younger girl was her backup. Twin Angels to their almighty Goddess, empowered to do Her will in the living world as She saw fit.
She'd thought she had a foolproof way of dealing with the cheese-obsessed girl. Placing her in the care of Mami Tomoe should've been a win-win: giving one the kind, nurturing environment she'd utterly lacked as a child, and the other the chance to assuage her loneliness by being that nurturer.
Yet somehow, Sasa Yuki had managed to snake her way in and use her powers of mental domination to take the white-haired girl's place. Right under the Devil's nose, one of her opposing Angels had simply dropped off the face of the earth.
Until she resurfaced under Oriko Mikuni's care. Already transformed, and already using her magic with ease. Meaning she'd been Awakened for at least a couple of days.
Had she only regained her memories of being a Magical Girl, or all the memories Homura had sealed away? That was the key question. If it was the former, this was still salvageable.
But somehow, she doubted she'd be so lucky. Nagisa Momoe's "career" as a Magical Girl had lasted all of a few hours in most timelines, her corruption coming so swiftly once she realized she'd utterly wasted her one Wish.
She needed to track the girl down. That much was obvious. She cursed herself for falling victim to exhaustion, when there was such a clear and present threat to Madoka's happiness out there.
Hopefully, there was still time to remedy this. Homura took out her phone to double-check the current time…and very nearly dropped it out of shock.
Sheer, cloying terror overwhelmed her every sense as she looked upon the date: April 30, 2011.
The eve of the feast day for Saint Walpurga of Francia. Meaning that when the sun went down, at precisely 6:26 PM…
It would officially be Walpurgis Night.
Homura forced herself to calm down. She'd reacted out of pure instinct, the memories of every horrific iteration of this day etched so deep into her hindbrain that dreading it was practically second nature.
But there was no longer any rational reason to fear this night. In this world, there were no Witches. So there could be no Walpurgisnacht. Not only did she not exist – by the rules of Madoka's Wish, she had never existed.
April 30 was just another day on the calendar. And so, for the very first time in a hundred eternities…
She would get to see the next day's sunrise.
Still, she couldn't help but see all this as a bad omen. The gravest threat her new timeline had ever faced, making itself known on this of all days?
Even if it was truly a coincidence, Homura Akemi didn't like it one bit.
Within the safety and secrecy of her home, the Devil spread her wings, and summoned her minions to her side. The Clara Dolls chirruped merrily, staring back at her with their identical, plastered-on grins.
"Find Nagisa Momoe," she commanded, though she knew the words weren't actually necessary. She had but to think of it, and the Familiars would unquestionably obey. "Let nothing stand in your way!"
[-]
By total happenstance, that was also the moment that Madoka Kaname roused from slumber.
In her case, it was on her futon in the guest bedroom of the Inoue-Kunizuka residence, and it was only after tossing and turning for nearly an hour, caught in the midst of a nightmare. She'd already forgotten what it was about, though she had a vague feeling there'd been some kind of storm in it.
Madoka too checked the time on her phone, which she'd left charging overnight. There was still nearly an hour before she needed to be up for school. She could probably go back to sleep if she wanted.
But the sight of the futon only made her palms go clammy. Even though she couldn't remember any details of her dream, the sensations lingered – and what she felt was a cold, indefinable dread.
So instead she began folding up the mattress for storage, noticing with a grimace that the sheets were matted with sweat. It hadn't been very warm last night, so this must've also been a result of her night terrors. Fantastic.
She thought about laundering the futon to get rid of the shameful evidence, but she wasn't sure where her aunts liked to hang them. And using the dryer probably wasn't a good idea, if Aunt Shion was still nursing her hangover.
When Sayaka's mother had driven her back here late last night, Auntie Akane had spent about twenty minutes reading her the riot act. It was the first time she'd ever seen the kindly, middle-aged woman get so mad.
Not that Madoka could blame her in the slightest, of course. What she'd done was stupid beyond measure, and it was only thanks to luck and the kindness of strangers that nothing worse had happened. Auntie Akane was one thing; Madoka couldn't even imagine what her mother was going to say when she found out.
Still, her ire had been born out of worry and love, and when all was said and done Madoka's aunts had both sent her to bed with tight hugs. Even if Aunt Shion had needed to hold onto the table during it so as not to fall over.
After getting dressed and washing her face, Madoka entered the kitchen to find her father's sister already hard at work on breakfast.
"Good morning, Madoka-chan," said Akane, perhaps a little bit more clipped than usual but otherwise back in good spirits. "Hope you're hungry. Want some fried eggs?"
"That would be great, auntie. Thank you so much," Madoka replied, as the plump woman slid a pair from her frying pan onto a plate and slid it over.
Truthfully, she was still having trouble summoning up much of an appetite, but she didn't want to make her aunt worry any more than she already had. So she took a fork and forced the gooey eggs into her mouth – not the worst thing in the world, given that Auntie Akane's cooking was second only to her brother's.
"I'll have rice and nattō ready in just a few minutes," added the older woman, as she moved deftly from one pot to the next. "In the meantime…do you mind if we talk? Shion's out as cold as Antarctica, so it's just the two of us."
Madoka was pretty sure she knew exactly what her aunt wanted to speak about. She was equally certain she really didn't want to. But there didn't seem to be a polite way to say "no."
Still with her back to Madoka as she checked on her rice, Akane went on, "I'm guessing what Akemi-san told us in that note was a lie. She went back home because you two had a…fight, of some kind?"
That wasn't quite right, but probably close enough. "How'd you know?" she asked mutedly.
"Because you've spent the past three days moping around like Shion when she finds we're out of beer," said Akane, turning around briefly to give Madoka a pointed stare. "And because you got so deep into your funk that you walked halfway across Mitakihara yesterday without even realizing."
Madoka let out a little sigh. "Sometimes I forget you're a cop," she murmured.
"Trust me, you're not the only one. And Shion doesn't exactly make it easy, stumbling from bar to bar and singing heavy metal at the top of her lungs," Akane told her, as she began ladling generous portions of the finished breakfast onto Madoka's plate. "But let's not change the subject. Whatever happened between you and Akemi-san…I think it's clear you need to talk about it."
"It…" the middle-schooler began hesitantly, her eyes locked on the surface of the table. "It's not exactly something…I can talk about…"
"What about that therapist you saw a few days ago? Doctor…Tenjou, I think?" asked Akane. "It's her job to listen to these sorts of things. I'll gladly pay, if the school won't cover it this time."
That was a tempting notion. Even though their sole session had been brief, Madoka had felt a strange connection to the rose-haired psychiatrist. Thinking of Iroha-chan, she wondered idly whether she just felt instinctively drawn to other girls with pink hair.
Still, Madoka could only imagine what Doctor Tenjou must've thought of her and Homura-chan after they abruptly ran out of her office. Actually, now that she was thinking about it…wasn't it weird the school hadn't followed up at all? They'd been so insistent on Homura getting support after her supposed suicide attempt…
She winced, feeling the onset of another headache. Abandoning that train of thought as too much trouble, she instead picked up her chopsticks and turned her focus to her breakfast.
"It's really fine, auntie. Honest," said Madoka, in between tepid bites. "Homura-chan and I are just…giving each other some space. That's all."
Akane affixed her with an even harder stare than before, and her lips rumbled in a skeptical hum.
"You're a terrible liar, Madoka-chan. I know I've told you that before," she spoke coolly. "But…if you won't talk, I won't force you. Please just know I'm here for you, if you change your mind."
Madoka responded with a brief, sincere nod. "Thank you, auntie. For everything," she whispered.
She ate the rest of her meal in uncomfortable silence. All the while, her mind was racing.
Ultimately, she knew her aunt was right. She needed to talk about all this with someone. And though the very thought of it made her body seize up like a wooden plank, there was only one person with whom discussing her feelings would really make a difference.
She'd danced around this long enough. No matter how uncomfortable it made her – much less the other girl – she would never have another moment's peace unless they settled this.
One way or another…
She had to speak with Homura Akemi.
[-]
Sasa Yuki was not happy.
To be fair, she so very rarely was, unless one counted sadism and schadenfreude. But real, honest joy was as anathematic to her as kindness or love.
Still, she was extra not happy today. Ever since she'd stumbled upon another Magical Girl in Asunaro City, and her party of two had become three.
She called herself "Alina Gray," and she was monstrously annoying. There were the little things, like the gratuitous Italian she peppered throughout her speech, or the fact that she always referred to herself in the third person rather than using a pronoun.
But mostly, it was because the girl was shit-pants crazy.
The only thing, really and truly the only thing, that she seemed to care about was her fucked-up sense of "bellezza artistica." Alina was clearly fascinating by death and decay, and used them as motifs in arrangements so repulsive and macabre that they could even make Sasa's skin crawl.
That was a pretty tall order, given that Sasa's favorite pastime was watching videos of things getting crushed in a hydraulic press.
The worst part, though, was that apparently their meeting hadn't been happenstance. As her benefactor psychically explained, Alina was another Magical Girl they'd elected to Awaken, and given the "short timeframe" they'd arranged for the two to work together from now on.
Finding out that she wasn't the only girl the mysterious voice had chosen hit Sasa harder than she would ever dare to admit. She'd thought they had recognized her brilliance and charisma, and agreed that she should be elevated to the throne for which Homura Akemi was so undeserving.
Now, instead, she found out that she was considered on the same level as someone like…this?
"Oh, che orribile! When Alina learned she'd been ensnared by such a wretched Diavola, she almost threw herself off a roof again! Not that doing so would make much difference to Alina now," said the girl, flashing one of her infuriatingly self-satisfied smirks. "But together, you and Alina should be able to topple that Strega Cattiva from her perch. Won't that be fun?"
No…No, Sasa wasn't going to stand for this. If she had to partner with this basket case, then she was going to do it on her terms.
Silently, she motioned for Suzune to move into position. Ever the dutiful servant, the younger girl obeyed, slipping into Alina's blind spot and filling her sword with mana.
If she wiped Alina Gray's brain clean and turned her body into a mindless slave…well, she wouldn't technically be going back on her word to her benefactor. They'd still be working together. But an Alina who couldn't do anything but obey her commands would doubtlessly be far more tolerable.
Sasa's lips spread into a wide, vicious grin. She nodded once to Suzune, and the assassin swung her blade downward.
But instead of striking the back of the artist's head, the weapon bounced harmlessly off a barrier that manifested out of thin air. It resembled a large green cube, twirling around Alina's entire body.
"Ah, ah, ah! You are being molta pessima!" declared the green-haired girl, her smile disappearing in an instant. "But you'll find Alina is not so easy to betray. Her barriers can stop or contain anything, if she so desires."
As if to demonstrate, the girl waved her hand through the air and struck a dramatic pose. A much smaller version of the green, swirling cube appeared around Suzune's necklace – the form her Soul Gem took while transformed.
Instantaneously, the younger girl slumped to the ground, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Her glassy-eyed stare was indistinguishable from that of a corpse.
So quickly that Sasa could barely blink, the older girl was looming over her, their faces mere inches apart.
"Alina thinks she's made her point," she said icily, before snapping her fingers and dispelling both cubes. With the connection between her body and Soul Gem restored, Suzune groggily picked herself back off the floor.
Sasa swallowed audibly. "Y…Yeah. Crystal clear…" she stammered, hating how frightened she sounded.
That was enough for Alina's usual demeanor to return, as she clapped her hands together and smiled cheerfully.
"Meraviglioso!" she exclaimed. "Then let's get started! Oh, Alina can't wait…"
A chill ran up Sasa's spine at the sheer hunger in the green-haired girl's expression.
"To paint this world in so many…brillante colors…"
[-]
Madoka's newfound resolve ran into a bit of a snag once she actually made it to school.
"Homura-chan's absent?" she mumbled, feeling crestfallen as she gazed upon the empty desk. "I hope she's okay…"
"Meh, she's probably just skipping. Girls like her are 'too good' to go to school every day like us plebs," said Sayaka, waving a dismissive hand.
"Not ta defend Akemi, but she's literally never said anythin' like that," Kyoko pointed out, flagrantly bending school rules herself by snacking on a bag of chips before class, per the usual. "I think yer jus' projectin'."
The blue-haired girl's bravado deflated in an instant, which Madoka knew from experience meant they were on the right track. Sayaka-chan had never exactly put much effort in hiding her emotions.
"Well…okay yeah, maybe. To tell the truth, I'm debating with myself whether to bounce out of here around lunch," she admitted to the pair.
Kyoko cocked an eyebrow. "That ain't like ya at all," she told her roommate. "Usually yer such a pain in the ass 'bout stickin' ta the rules."
Sayaka rolled her eyes. "Well thank you for putting that so nicely," she said with a frown, to which Kyoko merely tossed back another fistful of chips. "But anyway, I got this weird email last night…"
She took out her phone and showed off the message to both girls. Madoka's eyes began to shimmer with concern as she read through it.
"I don't think meeting this person is a very good idea," she whispered timidly. "You don't even know who they are."
"Yeah this is red-flaggy as hell," added Kyoko, nodding in agreement. "It's probably jus' some creepazoid tryin' ta pick up a middle-school girl in his van."
"I can't exactly explain it, but I really don't think that's the case," replied Sayaka, though she was biting her lip as she did. "I've got this feeling in my gut that I have to meet this person. That it has to do with something I've forgotten…something important."
Kyoko let out a heavy sigh.
"Well, I wanna say yer barkin' up the wrong tree. But that's harder ta justify after we got attacked by those weird girls in cosplay," she said, shuddering briefly. "Ya really think this email has ta do with all that?"
"Timing's too much of a coincidence. And how many people actually have my address, anyway?" asked Sayaka. "If it was just pure spam, I don't think they'd be this direct. A lot easier to do an electronic scam than meet in-person."
"I…still don't think you should do this. But I won't stop you," stated Madoka hesitantly. "Won't they notice you're not in our afternoon classes, though?"
"Eh, the only teacher we've got this afternoon is Kuzuki-sensei, and he's a dick. My permanent record can survive him marking me absent," answered Sayaka with a shrug. "Though I guess if I get this done quick enough, I might still make the bell. Observation Tower isn't all that far from here."
"Whelp, if yer that dead-set on this unbelievably stupid idea…" said Kyoko, her crimson eyes narrowing. "Then the leas' I can do is join ya fer it. I know the email said ta come alone, but screw that noise."
"Th…There's no need to…" Sayaka began, but Kyoko cut her off with a wave.
"Nah, no matter how yer tryin' ta play it off…this could be dangerous, and ya know it," she continued insistently. "I'm not lettin' ya play detective without any backup. I'll be yer…whatshisname. The fat guy who follows after Sherlock Holmes."
Sayaka was clearly resisting the urge to roll her eyes at her roommate's admitted ignorance of classical literature.
"Doctor Watson," she sighed. "And okay, fine. But try to stay out of sight. If this person really is legit, I don't want to risk spooking them off."
"Why would ya say that?" asked Kyoko with a wink. "Everyone loves my charmin' personality."
[-]
Homura, for her part, had far more important things to deal with than attending homeroom.
Besides, it was probably best for everyone involved that she not see Madoka right now. Every time she laid eyes on the pink-haired girl, it became harder and harder to maintain control over herself.
Each and every one of her fondest dreams and deepest fantasies – they were all now suddenly possible. All she would have to do was take the girl she loved into her arms, and…
The Devil shook her head vigorously. That was the one line she could not cross. Even though her current existence was essentially the embodiment of crossing lines.
Pushing those obtrusive thoughts out of her mind, Homura tuned her attentions back to her network of Familiars. Time was of the essence to complete their search.
Have any of you seen signs of Nagisa Momoe?
A cacophony of responses followed. A veritable sea of Ň̵̢̨̧̟̲̗̻̺͚̱̿̉̑̌̔̽̿̅̃͋̉̕Ö̸͉́̅́͝ͅN̷̨͈̬͕̼̺̮̮̳̣̱̣͕͆͜ͅÔ̸̠̲̦̱͍̙̯͛̽̌̏̋̉͌͜͜͝N̴̗̣̦͈͚͉̰̣̳͎̓͗̑̈͌̎͊Ǫ̸̥͈͙̜̘͎̈́́̈̆̾̈́̀͗ from the majority of the Clara Dolls, and of course a Ý̸̡̡̼̹͓̙̳̪̬̙͎̬͍̀̀̀̉̓ͅE̷̘͕̭̮̊̑̆̀̈́̇̆̏̔̇͌̌́͌͝ͅS̶̡̧̺͈̘̩̱̪̯͊̊̔͗̄̈́́̿̕͘͝Ÿ̵̧͖̹͍͈̳́̆̍́͑̀͊̀͆̈́́̅̇͑͜͠È̴̢̛̖̜͎̯̩̤̺̓͜͜Ś̴̢̝͇͕̓̀̅Y̸͇͒̓͑̀̒̊̈́͆̇̌̒̚͝͠͝E̶͈͌̄̆̔́̽̇͗̈́̈́͘͝Ş̵͉̩͔͇̪͚̜̆͛̇̀̀ from Liar.
But there was one anomalous answer amongst the discordance, and Homura focused more deeply upon that voice. It belonged to Inferiority, who by her nature didn't typically speak up very much.
S̴͇͉̥̪͌͆͐͛̒͋͑̊̀̚͝Ẁ̵̤͉̗͔͖̮͎̤͈̤̟̏̈́̆̇́̈́̇͂̾͗͜Ę̶̮̥̦̦͚̘̻̀̇͑͌̓̉̀̕͝E̵̦͉̝̒Ṯ̶̡̩̣͔͉̠̙̩̼̖̟̟̘̝̈́̌͌̐͒͘͘S̴̡̥̪̬̼̲̣̖̀̅͌̓̀̎͗̓̉̿̓̓͛̒͝ͅA̵̡͈̜̺̙͔̲̩̹͂̓ͅR̵̡̛̳̜̻̫̩̹̋̓̌̓͋̀̎̒̎̈́̀͒͠ͅE̷̳̫̻̳̼͎̘̓̓B̶̭͕̈́͑̌́́̓̉̕͠E̸̢̙̩̐́̄͌̏̊̽͒̂̇͒̓͑͝T̶̮͚͒͗͝Ţ̵͉̣̬͂̑̈̾͐̐̂́̈́͌͠É̶͉́̇̏́̀̉́̽̕͘R̵̡̺̰̰̾̌͒̇̄́̈́̋͠T̴͉͖̦͎͉̘̣̩͍͖̼͆̇̎̒͘͝H̸̢̟̙̃̍́̽̽̚̚Ă̵̞͈͂̏́̅N̷̼̗̬̪͔̦͇̲̪̘͒̃̄̄̉̉͗̏͘̚U̶̧̨͔̲̜͔͚̺͍̞͌͑̈́͊̊̓̿͆̐͛̓S̸̨̢͚̼̘͇̬̏̒́̕͝B̵̺͍͔͉̮̙̅̎̓͒͝Ȩ̶̥͉͚͓̗̟͎̘̖̣̮̈́̈́̀̅̎͆͑͝T̴̨̢̧̛͕̼̯̫̜̪͖̫͎̊̈͘T̶͇̓Ȅ̸̙̺̬̜̤͈̟̳͚̫͍̦R̴̖̗̞̦͙̣̼̫̻̣̾̓̈̕͝ͅͅͅT̸̛̻͚̪̻̼̤̫͚̫̱̾́̉͊͑̐́̂̋̃̅̄̓͜ͅH̸̛̩͑̈́̈̒̌̋ͅA̸̮̣͈̠̞͔̻̽͛̾̊̋N̵͔̈́̓̀̂̑͊̇̾̓͋̚͘͠Ÿ̸̡̭͉̺̝̣̜͓̫̮̽̈́̓̊̔̀̐͌̇͑Ő̴̹̙̦̫̟͓̥̼͕̟̦̃̆͝Ȗ̵̲̼̦̄͋͗͝͠͠͝B̶͓̥̬̝̜̘̯̻͓͍̂́̐͒̿̾͂̈̓̋͑̏̎E̴̠̋̓̃͗̈́̽̓T̵̯̞̺͚̄́̽̓̓̂̎̏͘͝͝͝T̶̡̈́̑̇̎͂̍̿͠Ẽ̵̫̘̣̭̗̜͍͚̤͔͉̪̹͓̾̔̌̉̅͒̅̊̈̚͘͝͝ͅR̴̤͐́̈́͂͌̔̚͘̕͘͝T̷͚̟̖̺̤̗̾̍͋͑͛̈͊̈̒̚H̴̨̛̬̩̼͖̤͂̿̈́͌́̌̓̿̕͘͘͝ͅͅȦ̵̧̙̻̻̟̳̟̦̭̣̩͉̓͋͆̉̃̑̍͌̂͝Ń̸̢̘̟͍̲̬̪̤̣̣͙̗̽̓̑̒̂̆̄͋̍̕͠M̵̧̘̹͇̦̝͍̭̯̫͙͙͌͒̆̈́̿̋̌̋̃̊̃́̚͜͠O̷̟͗̋̄͌͆̈́͆̃͆̀̆̑̓Ţ̴̢̫̝͇͇͚̯͔̩̖̖̋̅̈́̔͜͜H̴̖̰̭̖̜̬̼͓̟̮͈̼̤̩̽̍̈̈́̔͊̾͊͘Ě̸͎͌̉̈́́͠R̷̛͇̯̰̯̋̈́̀̊́̈́͆̈́̀͂̃̕͜
"Sweets"…that must mean Nagisa Momoe. She'd long since learned that her minions couldn't refer to other Magical Girls by name, but only by the titles of their Witches. And the young girl had, in every time flow, been doomed to eventually become Charlotte, the Witch of Sweets.
It was one of the strange, unfathomable rules that bound them by their nature as Familiars. The only exceptions were herself, who was "Mother," and Madoka, who was "Goddess."
They were, after all, merely extensions of her own screwed-up psyche. And while it wasn't hard, after so many cycles of failing to save them, to dehumanize Sayaka Miki as "Mermaid" or Mami Tomoe as "Dress-Up," there was simply no way any part of her could ever think of Madoka as Kriemhild Gretchen.
Though she supposed Gretchen had been closer in nature to her origin, albeit in a twisted sense, than practically any other Witch. After all, following the naming convention of her Clara Dolls would render her as "Salvation."
But all that was irrelevant. Inferiority wouldn't have chimed up in the first place if there wasn't something to make her feel inferior. She decided to press the troublesome minion further.
What did you see? Tell me!
There was a brief pause, as if the Familiar was struggling on how to word her answer. In a sense, she might've been – she was physically incapable of expressing anything other than sentiments that matched her name.
Finally, she chirped…
Ť̵̘̬̞̯̽̔̆͐̉̈́͊͂͐̈́̈̕͜R̵̡̧̨̧͇̙͎̺͎̗̯̳̠̈Į̷͇̳̝̱͓̭̤̖͔̝͝ͅÉ̵͙̟̻̦͕̭̹̕Ḍ̵̡̧̧̢̨̧̧̘̳̼̲̼͓̥̆̎̓̈́̓͝͝T̵̖̋͐̎̀̋̇͝O̷̡̢̠̳̫̻̹̖̬͂̀̒͒̒͊̂͑͒̚F̸̞̐̾Ó̸̠̬̈̄̒̂̐̕ͅĹ̸̢͍̻͎̻̦̝̙̮̾͌̈́̅͊̀̔̊͘Ļ̵̦͕̭̟̫̓̎̾͗̔̎̀̐͌̄͜͠ͅO̴̡̧̘̖̘̪̫̠͇̗̬͆ͅW̷̠̱͌̓̐͛̇̚͝T̴͖̣͇̳̞͓̏͐͛̋̾̌̄̄͐̐͝H̷̱̖̩͖̦̓͆Ě̸̡̺̩̳̳̯̺̪͚̙̣̞̰̫͔̋G̴̛̠̓͋̅̆̀͐̂͊͛̂̉͘̚Į̴̛̟͕̼̟̯̰̊̏̿̃̃̄̓̽̚̕ͅN̶̬͇̯̓̋͌̓̌̋̓̓̉̈̊̑̕͝G̶̢̢͕̻͇̺̩͉͉̖͙̉̐͐͛̌́̿̃̓̾̄̚͠͝E̴̢̥̰̮̠̭̣̊̈́̉͛̆̑̊͐̒͆͐́R̴̡͙̥̳͔̻̘͔̩̗͚̪͒̓́̈́̂̽͊B̷̹̟̖̻͖̣̯͑͆͐̓͒̇̈́͑̕Ŗ̶̛̮͚͚̟̊̐̐̓Ȇ̷̪͍̥͙͇͇̇̓̊̈́͆̅̇̉̇͑̐̚͝A̸̛̼̖͓̹̯̳̼̖̩͐̀̉̅͆͊̈́͑̚͝Ḑ̴̢̛͙̦̰͙̮̳̜͕́̈́͛͐̾̍͛̌̉͐̒T̷̡̠͓̲͎͉͙̘͌́R̷͈͈̩̩͈̂̌̂̿́͘ͅĀ̷̖͗̍̇̽I̷̛̛̪̩̤̳͒̉̅̐́̏̊̇̑̌͛̕̚L̵̡̛̻͖̘̎̀́͗̽̋̏͌̾̍͛͘B̴͙̼̈͐̌͆͒̓̎͋̈́̓͑̀̚U̸̪͔͚͚̤̽̿̀̂͒T̸̡͔̣̙͖̑Ṣ̶̦̲͕̬̫͉̬͇͇͉̪̯̏̊̍̚͜͜Ẇ̸̡͎͚̭͇̝̜͚̯̬͜Ẹ̴̰̮̝͇̳̱̙͈̲̹͔̼̲́͑́͜͝E̶̤̱͌̇̽̔͋̒̈́͗̿̅̑͠T̶̛̜͋̀̑̄͗̔̈́͛́̋̚Ş̵̨̹͚̗̫̮̬̞̝̥̚A̷̢̨͖̥̩̻̻̬̱̟̰͇̪̮͝͝R̶̛̖̗͑̾̀̆̉̂͛̅ͅE̵̢̡̥͖̱̲̩͉͉͚͉͗͗̏T̵̮̰̼̈́ͅỎ̷͇̱̼̪̪̲̯̱̼͒̇̏̌̇̽̌̾͝͝͝Ơ̶̧̰̤̘̙̮͖͓̟̥͖͙͛̂͂̉̾͋̈̊͛͘̚͘̚͜͝ͅC̷̢̩̘͉̲̑̒̈́̿̃̔͒̄̿͘̚͘L̵͎͖̲̫̠̟̣̄̋̆̈́̿̐̈́͐͘͜E̸̗̝̞̗͔̤̰̽̾̑̎̋V̵̩̍E̶̡̢̨̨̛̹̗̰̖̣̘̼̫̋͒͊̑̇͜R̸̢̙͈͇̉̄̏͋͛̀͒̑͠͠
C̷̖̣̀̈́̈́̇̐̓̎͗͘A̴͚͍͙̜͑͑̈́̊̂̉̓͘N̷̡̫̣̪͔̭̞͇̳̊̾̈́̋͂͂͐͂̚͝͝N̴̘̰̲̞̞͓̓̎̽O̸̧̢̡͙͈̥̬̟̠̤̱͔̲̠͗̓̄̇̀͌̎̆̔̏͘͝Ṭ̸̡̦̺̙̝͚̤̝̹̼͙̄̽͐̉̈̄̑̔͜͝F̸̛̜͓̟̭̮͔̠̭̠̗̔̌͂̾̂̿̐͑̊̈́̇̑̆͜ͅǪ̸̻̦̩̙̙̰̯͎̩͇̻͇́͛́̅͜L̸̢͎̗̏̊͗̋L̷̡̧͚̥̟̣̮̫̞̓́̄̽͆̍͝Ǫ̶͉̹̪̭͖̇̊̊̕͝͠W̷͎̙̬͓̥̭͈̮̽̓C̶̰̝̘̠̫͚̗̰̤̪̏̌̑̏͜ͅA̵̧͉̬̖͕̖͂̈͋̀̉̾̄͘̚̕͝͝Ǹ̶̪̍̎̍̄͌͝N̷̢̨͇̻̬͓̙̣̟̙͊Ơ̷̧̧͊͑̇̀Ṱ̴̢̢̨̖̩̫̠̫̠̘̉̂̍̃͆̽͗̒̾̑̌̊̏͆͝F̶̨̟͕̞͎̱̫̲͙̫͉̬͔̋͐̐̀̎͒̓̑͠͝Í̶̢̨̹̲͕͙̙̖̞͇̦̺̅͌̆̈́́͐̂̈̈́̚͠͠Ń̴͔͂̉͑̾͗͛̆̇̍͘͝Ḑ̸̛̼͓̭̝̜̳̳͐̏̀̄̈́̊
M̸̛̼̖̱͈̥̻͖̂̏̅̀͒̃͑̉͂̆̈́̍̈͠Ó̴̼̝͙̠̻͒́̆͒Ţ̷̨̬̘͓̹̜̼̯͔̈́͌̏̍̀͗̄̋͒̂̕͝͝͠H̸̖͉̜̥̲͙̓͋̓̅̊̐̾È̷̗̅̅̉̆̆́̉R̸̫̱̱̲̪̬̱̩̦͔͕̳̔̆̅̌͠I̸̡̗̜̤̿͝S̷̨͓̟͕̜͉̭̒͑̄̆̚Â̴̡̦̤̦̥̖̗̪͎̙̜͌͊̒̕͜F̵̡̡͉̜̞̼̬͙͖̆̂͐̅̂́͋͐̑̚͝ͅA̶̧̛̭̟͓̯̟͓̬͚̎̌͐̂̀̅̋̌͋̎͠͝͠Î̵̘̫̥͔̖̺̳̼͈̙̗̟̑̉̈͌̂̆̇̚͠L̷̢̢̥̣̮̠̫͍̹̤̹̖̊̅̚͠ͅU̵͎̦̳̯̖̪̇Ŗ̴̤̲̘̈͆͋̓̀͊̉̆̈́̇͊̑͒̍Ȩ̵̛̣̹͇̬̙̫̹̘̼̞́͛͠F̵̞͕̗̳̥̠̰͎͎͚̹̥̦͐̈́̈́̊͝A̸̗̖̳̜̘̱͈̰̲̅̉͌̐̓̒̽̆͆̆̚͝Į̵̡̢̛̙͙̖̭̭͖͎͇̬̠͇̾̓̈̆̆̔̇̀͜L̸̨̙̪͔͚̘̜̬͈̺̞̤͙͚̯͊Ų̷̧̬̙̻̘̪̻̤̻̻͕̺̈́͌̈́͝R̶͈̰̼̜̎͌͑Ȩ̵̥̺͚̋̃̌͑̽̌F̵̛̤̠̩̫̜̯̞̳̖̰̘̪̑͛̈̌̅͑͘̕͜Á̶̗̥̭͓̹̺̥͎̈́Ḯ̶̢̢̢͙̞̩̤̭͓͉̦̘̋͑̉͆̆͗͊̈́̈́̍͝͠L̷̡̨̛͔̪̖̜͙̮̼̰̙̺͊́̔̍̈́̀̎͛͑͐͑͠͠ͅỰ̷̢̙̼̗̃̐̄̾̅͗̌̓Ŕ̸̨̯̪͍̗̻̰̘̟͍̙̳̞̣̜̌͛͋Ȩ̵̤̝̠̻̤̻͍͚́́̄̅̇͋̃̅̿̕̚͜͜
Homura let out a ragged sigh. This wasn't helpful. If she was interpreting correctly, Inferiority had caught a glimpse of the cheese-obsessed girl, but she'd managed to slip away somehow.
In and of itself, that was troubling. It meant the girl might potentially be on to her. Which was one more piece of evidence that she'd remembered everything.
If she could just get within close physical proximity to Nagisa Momoe, she could reapply the memory-wipe without issue. And unlike Oriko Mikuni, there was little risk of her Awakening again on her own. Her karmic potential had been incredibly weak by Magical Girl standards, as her existence only profoundly affected one other person.
But there was no telling how much damage she might do until then.
Suddenly, Homura felt a sharp twinge. It was another of her Familiars – her first, and her most powerful.
She called herself Pride. And she sounded very proud to be offering this piece of news.
T̵̢̮̤̼̲͍̩͙̲̉̉̌̎̐͗̔̋̀̃͝H̸̡̝̉̀Ȩ̸̳̦̄̿̎̊̒̃͌M̸̧̧̛͎͖̺͖̙̜͉̪̮̻̲͎̈́̓̂̿͗̈́̀̕E̴̢̛̤͚̥͍̩̬̦͕̣͚̝̝̗̔̀́̈́̿̉́̍̅̒͂͘̚͠R̸̡̨̥̱͔̺̬͔̺̺͎̤̫̳͐̎͝M̶̢̨̙̖͔̪̱̟̘͓̥͙͎͙̄̓̐͐͑͊̈́̍̉͜A̴̡͚̪̠̹̠̘̥̺͎̠͚̖̞̓͛̓̓̀̽̌̕͝͝͠Į̷̣̰̯̈̍͋͂̈́͌̒̎̉̀̌̈̕͝͝D̷̢̦͕̊̌͆̽̉͘͝A̷̦͓͚͚̤̭̼͙͆͊̿͛̒͗̐̔̀͜͠N̷̢̨̟̙͎̣̹̞͚̭̼̞͖̙͋D̷̛̺͔̻̱̱͔̺̩̽̂̋̃̀̉̆̓̅̕͠T̵̨̝̠̥̻̹̔̔̌̏̐̓̅̈̾͝H̶̙̦͆͋͆̈́̍́̎͌̂͝ͅĔ̵̡̢̳̥̮̯̟͖̪̃̋̎͑̎̐̎́̇̂̏͠W̸̻͔̰̩͍̖͇͖̽̆̃͘Ư̸̡̡̺̪͖̱̠̌̈́̊̽͜Ḏ̸̨͉̱̪͙͎̯͓̓̎̕͜Ą̸̠̗̬̞̭̲̙͓͉̤̀͑̉̇͗̓̿̍N̵̢̧̲̩̐͝L̵͔̝̺͎̈́Ȩ̴͖̳͇͔̈́͂̅͌̐͘͝͝F̴̡̱̱̫͊͛͋͒̑̌̈̊̌̅̀͘͝͠Ṭ̷̊̅̍́̆̀̃̏̓͊̚ͅT̶̢͇̰̻͓̊̓̃̑̎̊̄̀͂͠Ȟ̶̢̳̠̰̑̐̆̀̈́͑̈́̈́̊̚͘ͅȨ̸̗͍̙̼̹̯̖̫͚̞̝̐̈́̾̉̐̐͐̈͑͐̚͝Ģ̶͕̟̥̯̎̃͋̍̚Ớ̵̢̨̼̙̀̌̾̔͗̔̑̓̈D̵̪̗̣̲̱̒̑͒͌͊̒̌̒̃̎̈́D̷̨̡̺͙̰̪̍̊̾͒͋͆̃̉͛̀̽̕͘E̵̡̟̖̞͔͙͈̳̪̜̋́̈́͊S̸̘͖̺͌́͒͗̄̀̂̇̐̒̄̐͆͝͝S̴͚̲͓̺̮̤͖̯̍̓͆́͘͝ͅB̷̨̧̝̬͚͕̣̱͚̯̪̼͙͍͛̾͘Ȅ̸͔̖͈͕̮͕̩̯̘͓͆̆̿̍͑̀͊̈́͐̑̏Ḩ̷̝̤̞̯͎̥͇̱̣̊̔̌̍͛̾͋͜͝Ḯ̴͙̮̥͌͛̔͊͛͗̈́̒Ṅ̵̨͎̳̮̳̩̹̩̥̹̔̆̒́̒̓͆̽͠ͅD̵͈̤̝̝̥͗̿̚ͅ
Ţ̸̠͚̫̰͎̖̭̰̣̭͇̖̈́̊̾̀͜͠H̷̨̺̰̤̼͓͍̥̯̻̯̹̑̿̓̑̈̿͌È̶̬̻̤̭̜͎̞͛̿͆̈́̆̋͘͜M̷̨̜̗̼͈̪̉̅̿͛̽͆̃̎̾͛̈́̚͠E̸̛̦͐̓͋̂̏̊̊̎͊̔̍͛͝Ṛ̴̡̤̘̲͉̟̮̱̫͍̈͒̽͑́͌́͆̿̑̏͗͝͝M̴̧̨̤̹̩͓͙̣͐̾͛̅͌̔͜Ȃ̸̛̟̳̣͕̬̈́̔̇̈́̀̈̈́̈́͐̇͆̕Ȋ̴̬̗̼̮͘Ḓ̴̨̼̗̬̯̪̰̻̤̦̰̟̺͑́́̒́͋̔̃͜͠Ȁ̴̻̓̀͒̀͆͝N̷̮̞̰̞̘̑̏̃̓͑̂D̴̡̼̲̮̭͛̆͑͑̍͊̽̽̒̿̽́T̶͓͌̉̀̌͛̿̈́͒̚͠H̷̡̢̢̛̤̼͈̜̤̙͎̤̪́̓͐͒̆̃̆̐̑̕̕E̸̺͓̭̹̾̀̓̃͘͜ͅW̷͚̮̫͙͎̖̳̠͎̗͍̦̤͕͕̉̎̔̉̀̑̐̑͑Ǔ̶̡̢̦͔͓̱̣̗͎̠͚͚̊͐̐̎̓̄̒̒͋͂͋͂̕͘D̷̢͚̪͈̺̹̰̩͖͓͗͋̀̀͛͋̈̉͑̚͠͝À̵̢̧̛̞̬͖̅̈́́̅̾̉̍͂Ņ̶̛̼̐͒͋̈̅͌̈́F̷̨̞͎̞̦̩̑͗O̴̰̱͔͊̈̀̌̈́̅̉̒L̷̢̛͖̬̝͓̫̗̮̦̲̠̜͙̏̂̎̌̀́̏̚Ĺ̸̢̨̨̛̯̖̲̟͚͎̳̩̮̖͕̇̌͋͛́̓̅̉̈́̔̈́̕̕͜Ǫ̷̧͕͈̙̺̏̌̓͐͆̂W̷̛̙͔̣̪̏̑̌͂̆̂̀̿̐͛̏̾̈́Ṭ̷̨̢͖͎̳͔̣̳̣̻͖̲́͐͊̑̊̄̒͌̚͝͝H̶̢̢͍̟̮̼̻̋̎̽̎̿̋͗Ë̸̛͕̲̭̣́̃̓̾̿͋̿͂̿̊̉̆̕͝T̴̡̡̧̮͙͇̖̻͚̆͊͂̽̾̄̈́̅͊̓̽̈́̂͘̚R̸̡̛̭̖͉̮̫̹̝̮̪̱͖̱͔̼̾̀̄͋̑̾̾͛̒̓̏̀̚͠A̴̺͙̩̯͇͔̱̘͚͕͎̙̣̯̟̐͋̑̋̏̾̕͝I̸̧̧̥͎̙͓̳̞̩̓́̒̋̑̍̊͊̑̋̃̑̈́̕͘L̸̛͇͚
[-]
The trio, which Sasa was stubbornly refusing to acknowledge she might no longer be the leader of, had decided to ensconce themselves within a condemned office building to talk strategy.
There'd been guards and caution tape blocking their way, but those were only obstacles for weak humans. Magical Girls were a different story entirely.
The three of them settled in around a dust-encrusted conference table, poring over a map of the greater metropolitan area: Mitakihara, Kazamino, Asunaro, Hohzuki, Takarazaki, and Kamihama.
"If you're going to be working together with Alina, you should know what she is capable of," said the artist. Sasa wasn't sure if that was meant sincerely, as a threat, or both. "Alina can create barriers that bind a physical space. That space is cut off completamente from the rest of the world."
Despite how terrified she was rapidly becoming of the green-haired bitch, Sasa couldn't help but be a little intrigued.
"And what about inside the barrier?" she asked. "What can you do there?"
"Oh, all kinds of things!" Alina exclaimed gleefully. "Within Alina's barrier, she can set all of her own…regole. Either with her mana, or someone else's. For example, when Alina was assembling her latest masterpiece, she surrounded all those irritating cani and gatti with barriers of silence. Alina hates to be interrupted while she's working."
"So…what you're saying is…" Sasa slowly puzzled out, her eyes going wide. "If you set up an enormous barrier, and channeled the mana from a Magical Girl with, oh, say, the power to control minds…"
"Ah, ah, ah. Alina sees where you're going with this, but it won't work," the mad artist cut her off, wagging her finger. "Her benefattore told her all about your little tricks. You can only control one person at a time – a barrier won't change that. Now, her magia, on the other hand…"
She pointed theatrically toward Suzune, who looked quite thoroughly confused. Sasa supposed that shouldn't have been surprising; her mind was surely tearing itself in two, trying to reconcile all this talk of "mind control" with the absolute truth that she was Matsuri Hinata, and Matsuri obviously had no magic of any such kind.
"Wh…What do you mean, exactly?" said the Magical Girl assassin. They were the first words she'd spoken in hours.
"If Alina remembers correctly, there's no limit on the number of people that bellissima spada of yours can affect. But normally, you need to have physical contact," Alina continued on, apparently oblivious to the amount of damage they were wreaking on Suzune's psyche. "That is something Alina's barrier can take care of. She could spread its power across this intera città…"
Sasa made a noncommittal humming sound with her lips, trying to pass off as if she wasn't especially impressed. But inwardly, the gears of her mind were rotating like mad.
That was more or less what her plan had been before running into this freakshow. According to her benefactor, Umika Misaki had very similar magic to the type Suzune was borrowing – a little less potent, but balanced out by affecting people across a much wider area. Apparently, in another timeline, she'd once used it to "edit" the memories and perceptions of every single Magical Girl in Asunaro City.
Once they incapacitated the former Pleiades Saint, Sasa had fully expected to drop Suzune like a hot potato and take on Umika as her new mind-slave. Trading raw power for range and versatility.
But it sounded like, with Alina's cooperation, she might not need to make that trade after all. With their powers combined, she could easily dominate a single city.
Of course…now that her initial goal was within her grasp, she found herself wanting so much more. It was simply her nature.
"Hypothetical question," said Sasa, batting her eyes at Alina in faux-innocence. "Is a città – I assume that means 'city' – the biggest barrier you can make? Or could you, let's see…surround the whole planet in one?"
"Hmmm…Alina isn't really sure," answered the artist, tapping at her chin in what looked like sincere curiosity. "She supposes, forse…but she would need an incredibile amount of mana…if only she could…oh sì, potrebbe funzionare…"
Sasa let her muse to herself like that for several more moments, during which time her speech progressively contained less and less Japanese, until the younger girl finally ran out of patience and snapped her fingers a couple of times in the face of her "partner."
"Hey! Earth to Alina!" she spoke sharply. "Is it possible, or isn't it?"
The artist settled back into her seat, her fingers fidgeting with the long green strands of her hair. The only other time Sasa had seen her look this serious was when she was sketching.
"Alina thinks…it could work. But she'd need molto, molto, mooooolto Magical Girls," she eventually told the others. "To serve as… una batteria magica, so to speak. Plus as many copies of roughly the same magia you're asking her to channel as possible. Redundancy is molto importante."
"Assuming I'm understanding you through all the Italian crap…" said Sasa. "You mean you need more girls with memory magic? I think we can handle that. There's Umika Misaki in this city, and if we're really desperate we could always go back to Hohzuki and track down the original Kagari Hinata. She shouldn't be too dangerous Unawakened."
"It's a buon inizio. But Alina thinks she'll need at least one more," responded the older girl. "But where else could she find…"
Suddenly, they both stopped cold in their tracks. Each could see the telltale signs on the other girl's face – they were hearing the same words, spoken in the same voice.
Slowly, her trademark grin returned to Alina's face, spreading from ear to ear.
"Mia dolce signorina…" she whispered luridly. "Have you ever been to Kamihama City?"
[-]
Felicia Mitsuki hated school.
To be perfectly fair, there probably weren't a whole lot of thirteen-year-olds in the world who didn't. But that didn't change the fact that Felicia hated math class, and she hated this stupid test, and she really hated Yachiyo for making her go to school and take it instead of running off to the arcade instead.
Her heart seethed with anger at the blue-haired girl as she stared blankly at an incomprehensible sea of letters and numbers (seriously, who was the wise guy who decided letters should be put into math!). Yachiyo was still a teenager like her – at least, technically – but at nineteen still seemed to think she was allowed to treat herself like Felicia's mom. Insisting on Felicia heading to class on time and going to bed early and eating her green peppers and all sorts of other nonsense.
Hell, she did the same to Tsuruno and she was only two years younger than the junior model. How did that make any kind of sense?
Sure, Felicia could (grumpily) admit, Yachiyo had done some nice things for her. Giving her a place to stay and three square meals, and even buying her some cool Decagon Ball figures once when she took home a surprisingly good report card.
And all those nice things had improved tenfold once Iroha moved in. Especially the food. Yachiyo was an okay cook but she had nothing on the pink-haired girl.
Truthfully, it often felt like Yachiyo and Iroha were both playing the moms of Mikazuki Villa. Which was kind of a weird thought given that Iroha was only two years older than Felicia, one year older than Sana, and two years younger than Tsuruno. But it was true.
Yachiyo was the fussy, busybody, no-nonsense mom that kept them all on track. Iroha was the sweet, nurturing mom who made sure they always came home to good food and clean sheets. They made for a surprisingly good team, no doubt.
Still, that didn't mean Felicia had to like it. She already had parents, goddammit. Or at least she…used to…
The blonde clutched at the side of her head, a searing pain blazing through it – as it always seemed to when she tried to think of her parents.
They were dead, she knew that much. She was pissed about it, she knew that too. And she'd vowed revenge against…against…
No, it was no good. Every time she tried to concentrate on the events in question, the details just seemed to slip further and further away. Like a camera that refused to come into focus, or a song she could just barely hear.
"Mitsuki-san, are you feeling alright?" asked a kindly older voice. "Do you need to see the nurse?"
Belatedly, she realized that her math teacher was standing right next to her; clearly, her internal distress had leaked into her expression. Felicia fought through the pain to present her with an all-too-angelic smile.
"I'm okay, Yukimura-sensei," she said. Her teachers were pretty much the only people in the world she used honorifics with. "It's, uh…just these las' few problems! They're givin' me a real headache!"
Felicia winced as she heard several of the other students snickering. But her teacher just smiled indulgently.
"Just remember to apply the formulae we went over last week. And don't overstress yourself!" she told her. "I probably shouldn't say this, but it's only one test. If you get stumped, there's always the next one."
At that moment, however, a crisp male voice rang over the loudspeakers, "Will Felicia Mitsuki please report to the principal's office? Thank you."
More snickering, which Felicia tried steadfastly to ignore. Yukimura-sensei, meanwhile, tilted her head to the side in puzzlement.
"I wonder what that's all about," she mused, before shrugging. "Ah well. You'd better get along then, Mitsuki-san. I'll give you a chance to make up the test later, of course."
"Greeeeeeeat…" mumbled Felicia, as she gathered up her things and slung her bookbag over her shoulder. As if taking this test once hadn't been bad enough – now she'd probably have to stay after school to finish it up.
As she walked down the halls of Chuo Academy, her mind swam with all the possibilities of what their bozo of a principal might be calling her for.
Had he figured out it was her who'd stolen all that meat from the cafeteria freezer? No, it couldn't be! She'd covered her tracks too well. Only one girl had been witness to her perfect crime, and Rika Ayano was no snitch. Kind of annoying with her glitzy makeup and super-girly fashion, but not a snitch.
Besides, she thought vindictively, if Rika had turned traitor then Felicia would just have to blow a lid on those "secret meet-ups" she'd been having with that gray-haired girl from Iroha's school. That'd teach her!
It wasn't to much of Felicia's surprise that when she reached the principal's office, she found Yachiyo Nanami waiting for her. Yachiyo was just the type to call her out in the middle of class, right in front of everyone, if she had a bone to pick.
What did surprise her was that Iroha, Tsuruno, and Sana were all gathered around the room with her. And that the principal was slumped over in his chair, apparently fast asleep.
"Sorry to put you out like this, Felicia-chan!" said Tsuruno Yui, the waitress bowing in apology. "But we talked about it, and I don't think we have any more time to waste!"
"I'll catch you up with the details on the way," added Yachiyo, the older girl's lips pressed tightly together. "It will be…a lot to hear. But I need you to keep an open mind. Like Tsuruno-san said, we don't have a lot of time."
Instinctively, the confused Felicia turned to the two girls closer to her own age. "Okay, what the heck is goin' on?" she demanded.
Sana Futaba bit her lip. "I…I'm still trying to process it all myself. It was truly unbelievable," she whispered, in her usual timid fashion. "But I promise you, every word of it is true."
Felicia received a gentle pat on the shoulder from Iroha Tamaki, who offered her an expression that was half a reassuring smile, and half…something else.
"Whatever happens, we're all here for you, Felicia-chan," she declared, giving the younger girl a brief, one-armed hug. "We're your family, and that's not going to change. No matter what you hear."
The blonde broke out of Iroha's grip, now feeling familiar threads of stress and anxiety worming their way up her body.
"Quit dancin' round everythin'!" she exclaimed. "What's this big secret that's got everyone so riled up?"
Yachiyo let out a long sigh, before drawing herself up to full height – which, for the professional model, was quite a feat indeed.
"There's no easy way to break this to you, so I'm just going to come right out and say it," she said. "You're a Magical Girl, Felicia-chan."
[-]
The Observation Tower was a large metal structure, built right on the border between Mitakihara and Kazamino City and overlooking both.
Typically at midday, the tower grounds were abuzz with activity, being one of the twin cities' biggest tourist traps. But it was closed for renovations, and so the area surrounding its foundations was utterly deserted.
"I'm surprised. I would've at least thought we'd see a security guard or two," muttered Sayaka, frowning. Her eyes glanced toward the tower itself, which was covered with signs and caution tape warning any onlookers away.
"Probably out ta lunch. Might be why our mystery man asked ya out at noon in the firs' place," said Kyoko with a shrug. "Course, I ain't seen nobody yet. Keep yer eyes peeled – if this is a trap, now's when they'll spring it."
Sayaka wanted to quip that Kyoko was watching too many bad Hollywood action movies, but when she herself had gotten attacked by not-Wolverine just three days prior, she knew the point would ring somewhat hollow.
Instead she told the other girl, "You should probably find some place to hide soon. Like I said, they're expecting me to come alone."
"An' if ya had, ya'd officially be too stupid ta ever get on my case again 'bout studyin'," Kyoko replied pointedly. "But fine. There's some nice, roomy bushes over there. Perfect ta plop my ass down till yers needs savin'."
"You don't need to bother. What I'm about to say, Sakura-san can hear just fine."
The voice was small, and a fair bit younger than theirs. And yet it seemed to ring with power and authority that Sayaka hadn't heard in anyone apart from politicians or religious leaders.
Both of them turned at once, to see a figure standing at the foot of the Observation Tower, appearing as if from nowhere.
She was a tiny thing, with long white hair down to her waist and a pretty little dress – pastel pink with polka-dots. Her eyes were the strangest part, though, with her irises containing concentric circles of orange and yellow.
It might've been an odd thing to say for someone who had Madoka Kaname as a best friend, but she almost looked more like a dress-up doll brought to life than an actual human.
Paired with those somewhat alien eyes, though, she wound up giving off the impression that this wasn't a doll one "played" with lightly. Her voice, high and sweet but all-business in tone, enhanced the effect.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Miki-senpai," she said. "I wasn't certain that you would. But with so little time left, I had to take the chance."
Sayaka had about a billion questions for the strange girl. But before she could voice any of them, Kyoko loudly demanded, "Hold up. Haven't we seen ya somewhere before?"
The redhead looked ponderous for a moment, before snapping her fingers in recognition.
"Right, at the market!" she added swiftly. "Ya were with that Tomoe chick. Though now that I think it, yer face looked a little different…"
The mysterious girl's features tightened, and her odd eyes grew noticeably harder.
"That was most likely Sasa Yuki that you saw. During the weeks that she was impersonating me," she spoke, and Sayaka could tell she was fighting to keep her voice deliberately level. "She used her powers to assume my place in Mami-san's heart, and twist it for her own ends. Yet I can't entirely fault her. If she hadn't struck when she did, the circumstances that led to my Awakening would never have occurred."
"That's…a lotta big words fer someone so small," said Kyoko – and while Sayaka would've worded it better, she was more than a bit weirded out by the girl's overly formal diction. "Ya ever gonna tell us yer name, short stack?"
"Of course. How rude of me," answered the girl, bowing her head forward. "My name is Nagisa Momoe. Now, Sakura-san, Miki-senpai…every remaining second is precious. We must get down to business, before…"
But Kyoko clearly wasn't done asking inane questions. "Hey, how come I'm 'san' but she's 'senpai'?" she drawled, pointing at Sayaka with her thumb. "We're the same age, y'know!"
"I'm afraid I don't know you all that well, Sakura-san. Only by reputation," Nagisa explained. "Whereas Miki-senpai truly was my senpai, in every sense of the word. She taught me everything there is to know about being a Messenger. Even though she was so new to it herself."
Sayaka, for her part, felt dazed just trying to follow all this.
"Slow down, slow down. None of what you're saying makes any sense," she said, holding up both hands. "What's all this 'Messenger' business? And why're you in such a hurry? You said there was barely any time left before…what, exactly?"
Nagisa opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by another voice. One that cut through the warm midday air like an icy knife.
One that, to Sayaka, was both familiar and utterly unwelcome.
"Don't speak another word," whispered Homura Akemi, as she stepped out from between the trees surrounding the tower. But what drew the blue-haired girl's eyes even more was the thing she was holding.
It was a pistol, with a barrel large enough to clearly be designed for a grown man.
And she was aiming it right at Nagisa.
[-]
Madoka Kaname was at a loss for what to do with the rest of her day.
After getting all psyched up to finally confront Homura, the girl's absence had completely taken the wind out of her sails. And it wasn't like there'd been very much wind in the first place.
Not only that, but two of the only people she could even begin discussing it with had disappeared off to confront Sayaka's cyber-stalker (it wasn't often that she agreed with Kyoko, but she had to admit, that still seemed the most likely explanation). Leaving her behind to eat her lunch alone.
With no other options, Madoka decided to see if Hitomi and Kyosuke would mind her joining them. Since the two were still in the "honeymoon" phase of their relationship, their friends tended to give them space during breaks – if only to make things less awkward for Sayaka. But surely it'd be okay just this once?
Madoka sighed audibly. How pathetic was she, that she couldn't even stand to spend a single hour without someone else around?
She found them quickly enough, eating their meals in the shade of a large tree. One of the pair – almost certainly Hitomi – had spread out a fancy blanket and laid everything out picnic-style.
"Hitomi-chan, Kyosuke-kun. I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Madoka said apologetically, bowing her head to the couple.
Both of them looked up at her in surprise, though thankfully, not any apparent displeasure.
"Madoka-san! I know it hasn't been, but it still feels like ages since we've seen you," declared Hitomi, scooching over to make space on her blanket. "By all means, please join us. I wound up making altogether too much food today."
The pink-haired girl still felt rather awkward sitting down next to the pair, but did so anyway. One glance at the spread in front of her told her that Hitomi hadn't been kidding: there were enough leftovers here to feed a small village.
Unsure which of the dishes it'd be polite of her to grab from, she elected to take out her own lunch and eat that first. Auntie Akane had sliced up an omelet and made a few hot dogs into octopi – probably remembering how much she'd liked that when she five.
"How have you been, Madoka-san?" asked Kyosuke, after she'd taken a few ginger bites. Her appetite still hadn't entirely returned to normal. "I must say, it's so rare to see you without Sayaka-san or Akemi-san around."
So even the guy Kyoko liked to call "Captain Oblivious" had noticed.
"Homura-chan is absent today. And Sayaka-chan and Kyoko-chan had…other business to take care of," Madoka said carefully. She was pretty sure she didn't miss the glance that passed between them at this news. "Anyway, I'm fine. How about you two? I heard from Sayaka-chan that you had a date at the aquarium yesterday – that must've been fun!"
But rather than answer, Hitomi just stared back at her with slightly narrowed eyes, clearly seeing through her eagerness to change the subject. Madoka bit her lip; Hitomi had always been surprisingly shrewd about these sorts of things.
"Are you certain?" she murmured, placing a sympathetic hand on Madoka's sleeve. "I haven't wanted to say anything, but you've seemed…troubled, as of late."
Was she really that obvious? She supposed she must be. Sayaka, her aunt, and now Hitomi had all seen it within a matter of seconds.
Maybe it was for the best that Homura wasn't here today. If everyone else could read her like a book…
"Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous," added Kyosuke, in the face of the pink-haired girl's continued silence. "But is this because of Akemi-san? Now that I'm thinking about it, I don't think I've seen you together much at all these last few days."
Madoka's breathing suddenly doubled in pace. "I…I…" she gasped out, clutching at her chest. Why was she such a mess that even mentioning the gorgeous girl was now causing her body to…to…
Before her breakdown could progress any further, Hitomi placed herself between her friend and her boyfriend. She kept her green eyes level with Madoka's rosy ones.
"Breath, Madoka-san. It's okay. You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to," she said calmly. "But I do wish you'd share with us whatever's troubling you. You're our precious friend. We won't judge you."
Her first instinct was to continue denying everything. Of all the friends she had (admittedly not a very large circle), Hitomi and Kyosuke seemed about the least-fitting options to advise her on this particular problem.
Both of them just seemed so…perfect. Each geniuses in their own ways, prim and proper and so wealthy it was kind of staggering. How could either of them understand this…this feeling?
Of inadequacy. Of self-doubt. Of knowing, in her heart of hearts, that she simply wasn't good enough.
People like them – like Homura with her unfailing grace and poise, or Sayaka with her heroic spirit, or even Kyoko with her cool confidence – lived in a completely separate world from failures like her.
The best she'd ever been able to do was play sidekick, and help them shine. Support them from the sidelines with all her heart and soul, and hope their greatness might rub off on her over time. Even if just a little bit.
Of course, it also didn't help to learn that Homura had literal superpowers, and Sayaka apparently did too. But that was a rabbit hole she was steadfastly avoiding falling into, for now at least.
Then again, with all that being said…maybe that was precisely what qualified Hitomi and Kyosuke to advise her now. Whatever weirdness might've surrounded them getting together in the first place, there was no question that they were one of the strongest couples she'd ever seen.
They supported one another in everything; propelled their partner to new heights, that they wouldn't have been able to reach alone. What was that, if not love?
It was clearly the same thing her parents had found with one another. Same with her aunts. They were all such different people, and yet it was evident in every lingering glance and whispered word that passed between them.
Sayaka and Kyoko had been looking for the same thing. And maybe, just maybe, they'd found it together. It was probably too early to tell for sure. But Madoka was rooting for them.
Perhaps she'd blown her chance to have that with Homura – if there'd ever even been a chance in the first place. But that didn't mean salvaging something with the raven-haired girl wasn't still possible.
Through trembling lips, Madoka began to explain what'd happened between her and Homura three days prior. Again, she left out the details surrounding magic battles and brainwashing.
When she finished, Hitomi had her fingers pressed tightly over her mouth, clearly trying to hold back whatever her initial response had been.
Instead, with her eyes bulging so much it didn't entirely look healthy, she said, "Oh! Oh, yes, I see that! Well that is…that is good! Because love is love, and…love that is…umm…yes! Love! Know that I am one-hundred-percent in support of that love! Because girls can love girls as long as there's…erm…love!"
She spoke all these words very fast, and in a voice several tones higher than her usual pitch.
Truthfully, Madoka found this overly aggressive allying nearly as disturbing as Hitomi's typical scandalized reactions, though she declined to say this out loud. If her green-haired friend had put the effort into moving past her hang-ups, she didn't want to dissuade her.
Regardless, she still needed to clear something else up. "She…doesn't feel the same way," she whispered, tilting her head downward. "And now, I'm just trying to find some way to make things right."
Madoka remained still for several moments, her eyes locked on her twiddling thumbs as she waited for her friends to absorb all this information.
Finally, Kyosuke took a deep breath, and told her, "Look, Madoka-san. There isn't any way to go back to the way things were before the kiss. And I don't think you should want to, either. Trust me, when you keep that stuff bottled up inside, it…destroys you."
She couldn't help but notice he was staring at his left hand as he spoke these words.
"But just because you can't go back in time, doesn't mean it's all over," he continued on, after a few seconds' pause. "The good thing is, you already summoned up the courage to talk to her about it. That's half the battle."
"I just didn't work out anything to actually say to her," groaned Madoka morosely. "And I don't see that changing whenever she gets back. I'd have to be a whole different person. A better person."
But Hitomi responded to this with a light touch to her shoulder, and a slow shake of her head.
"There's no one better than you, Madoka-san. Not at being you," she said. "You know how much we both love you. I'm sure Akemi-san loves you too. Maybe not in the same way you wanted – which, if she did, would be completely and totally socially acceptable, and in no way inferior to any other similarly situated romantic coupling! – but enough that I think she'll listen to your feelings. If you just sit her down, and give her a chance."
All in all, it was…strange advice. But it was helpful. Madoka found herself smiling for the first time that entire day.
"I love you both too. So much," she choked out, seizing both of her friends around the waist and enveloping them in tight hugs.
As she finished embracing Hitomi, however, she felt a buzzing sensation in her pocket. Frowning, she sat back down and took out her phone. Who would possibly be texting her during school hours?
"Is that Sayaka-san?" asked Hitomi, leaning over and frowning with concern. "I can't help but worry about what 'other business' she might be getting up to with Sakura-san…"
But no – it was actually an email from her mother:
Hi Madoka-chan! Hope you and Tatsuya-kun have been doing well.
I know this is sudden, but there's been a power outage at the hotel all day, and no one's sure when they're going to fix it. So the company's decided to send us all home.
We'll be flying in around seven tonight. Please let Akane-san know. If she could pick us up from the airport, we'd really appreciate it. If not, we can always grab a taxi.
Looking forward to seeing you soon!
Hugs and kisses,
Mom
"Hmmm…well, that's good news, at least," said Hitomi. "I just hope their flight goes okay. I saw the weather forecasts for this evening, and I think they said there might be a storm coming…"
[-]
Sayaka's mind was working on overdrive, trying to come up with something to say.
This was just so…so absurd. The sight of Homura Akemi in her perfectly pressed school uniform, standing there in broad daylight and aiming what looked for all the world like top-grade military hardware at a girl who couldn't have been more than ten or eleven.
In any event, the first question that sputtered from her lips was, "Th…That can't be real, can it?"
"I have no interest in explaining things to you, Sayaka Miki. But yes, this gun is absolutely real. A Beretta 92FS, to be precise," Homura responded tonelessly. "The standard-issue service pistol for the United States military. Absolutely capable of shattering it with a single shot."
Curiously, as she spoke these words she trained her sights downward, so that they seemed to be aimed at Nagisa's waist. Wouldn't the head or chest make more sense?
"Then why don't you?" asked Nagisa, who seemed awfully calm for someone being held at gunpoint. "Are you developing a conscience, Akemi-san? Or is that the reason you pulled her down here with you?"
Sayaka didn't like the way Homura's finger briefly twitched over the trigger.
"I haven't killed a single person in this new world. I've seen no reason to," she said. "But if you test me, then I can and will break that vow. It doesn't have to come to that, however. Just let me…"
"You aren't taking this from me again, Akemi-san," Nagisa cut her off, the girl's voice again ringing with a strength that belied her apparent age. "Regaining my status as Messenger may have been an accident – a tiny, unforeseen cog in Mikuni-san's grand plans. But I was sent here for a reason, and I won't allow you to make me forget it."
Then, unexpectedly, she turned her gaze to Sayaka, those strange eyes boring into her own. "And I won't allow you to make her forget it, either," she added swiftly.
"Not another word!" bellowed Homura, and with an earsplitting bang, she fired the gun.
Sayaka couldn't help it; when the trigger went off she put her hands over her ears and screwed her eyes shut. When she glanced over, she saw that Kyoko had done the same.
But once she opened them back up fully and glanced over to where Nagisa had been standing, she saw only a small hole in the ground, a few inches from the girl's left foot.
The blue-haired girl let out a deep sigh of relief. Just a warning shot.
Still, it was hard to read as anything but Homura making it very clear they weren't to speak out of turn.
Something, incidentally, which someone probably should've told Kyoko. Because as soon as she'd recovered enough to speak, she was angrily shouting, "Look, I always knew ya were kinda psycho! But what'd this chick do ta ya?"
"Stay out of things that do not concern you, Kyoko Sakura," said the raven-haired girl sharply. "Not that it really matters what I do or do not explain to you, of course. I'll need to rewrite both of your minds as soon as I've taken care of hers. You've already seen too much."
And just when Sayaka's head had stopped spinning long enough to accept the gun – maybe Akemi had an American relative who'd smuggled it into the country somehow – it was sent spiraling anew by this latest revelation.
Trying to keep score, apparently Homura Akemi was in fact: one, an accomplished marksman with foreign firearms; two, a murderer, who'd killed enough people that she needed to specify how long it'd been since the last; and three, someone possessing supernatural powers that let her modify people's memories.
And here, the worst thing Sayaka had been worried about was that she could get kind of stalker-ish with Madoka…
She wasn't sure, in all honestly, how much of all that she actually believed. Akemi definitely had a few screws loose, but it was possible that most of the other stuff was all in her head. Actually, that seemed the most likely explanation, on second thought.
Of course, that left them with a delusional girl wielding a military-grade gun. Not exactly an improvement.
"There's nothing you can do to stop me. You know this," Homura continued on, her tone turning placating as she addressed Nagisa again. "Transform if you wish, but it won't make any difference in the end. Now that I've found you, you'll never escape from me again."
Nagisa said nothing for a while, simply tilting her head and regarding the other girl curiously, like the threats against her life were nothing more than idle chitchat.
Then, slowly, she reached into the folds of her dress. Sayaka's entire body tensed up, as she anticipated this turning into a shootout…
But no. The girl had pulled out…a block of cheese?
"You may be the architect of this time flow. You may be able to stop me," she said, taking a great big bite out of the yellow substance. "But you're not going to, Akemi-san. And do you know why?"
Nagisa paused for a moment to let out a satisfied little squeak. Her enjoyment of the impromptu snack made her actually seem her age, for the first time since she opened her mouth.
Once she finished chewing, her expression instantly turned serious again, like someone had flipped on a light.
"It's the same reason why this world is falling apart all around you," she answered her own question. "Because deep down, you know it's wrong. If you had full conviction that you'd done the right thing in dragging her down with you, then you'd be able to weather any kind of adversity that came your way. But instead, you just keep slipping further and further. And you have no one to blame but yourself."
Sayaka would've thought the tiny girl was barking up the wrong tree entirely, if she hadn't noticed one crucial detail.
Homura Akemi's right arm was shaking.
"I've gone too far," she spoke, her voice strangely hollow. "I can't go back. This is the only path remaining."
Nagisa slowly shook her head. "She'll forgive you, you know she will. You know her so much better than I do," she said. "None of what you've done so far is irreversible. The only thing you need to do, if you want to make amends…is choose to do so."
"No…No!" Homura suddenly screamed, now placing both hands on the pistol to steady it. "You don't understand! By stealing her away, trapping her here…I've changed her! I didn't think I could, but the evidence is right in front of me!"
"Akemi-san, what do you…" the younger girl started, but Homura cut her off with another, booming warning shot.
"This world…it brings my fantasies to life. It's the only way I can think to explain it," she spat at Nagisa, now looking thoroughly deranged. Sayaka was pretty sure she was saying a lot more than she'd originally intended. "My silly fantasies and my darkest, hidden ones too. And what she said to me …it was the fantasy that's been buried deepest in my heart for over eight years."
Then, to Sayaka's overwhelming shock, she saw something she never would've expected in a million years. Akemi jumping in a tank or turning into a dragon would've made more sense.
Instead, the perpetually stoic girl…was crying.
"How can I even think of returning her love?" she demanded. "When I know it's a lie?"
Nagisa stood there in silence, looking over her erstwhile enemy with an unreadable expression in her heterochromatic gaze.
Then, slowly, she said the words, "There's no such thing as time, up there. I stood by her side for an infinite stretch of eternities. And so, Homura Akemi, I can tell you this with absolute certainty …"
She let out a long, rattling breath.
"She meant every word."
For several, impossibly heavy moments, nothing happened. Then, a noise that didn't even sound human escaped from Homura's throat, as wild and guttural as an animal in the throes of death.
As her shriek split the sky, her finger squeezed around the pistol's trigger again. But this time, she hadn't bothered to aim it away from Nagisa's body.
And so, the bullet sailed through the air, impacting flesh and bone with a sickening spray of red…
From the stomach of Kyoko Sakura, who'd thrown herself in the way.
"Couldn't…let this happen…" she gurgled, collapsing to the ground in a pool of her own blood. "Ta another…kid…"
"Kyooookoooooooooo!" Sayaka cried at the top of her lungs, stumbling and tripping in a haze to get to the other girl. White flashes were spilling over her eyes, obscuring her vision.
"N…No…I didn't mean…" said Homura in a weak mumble. "Hold on, I can fix this. Just let me…"
"No!" yelled Sayaka, throwing herself over the redhead, who already seemed to have lost consciousness. "Don't you think you've done enough?!"
The raven-haired girl looked suitably chastised…at least, for a few seconds. Then her face turned harsh again.
"We don't have time for this, Sayaka Miki," she growled, waving her hand through the air.
Suddenly, Sayaka felt what was probably the strangest sensation she'd ever experienced in her life. Some kind of purple…energy surrounded her entire body, and in time with Homura's motions, she was tossed violently aside.
The aura dissipated just as she impacted the ground, her bookbag and its contents spilling everywhere. She fought to regain her bearings, and then as quick as she could, rounded on Homura to unleash another round of hateful invective.
Only for the words to die in her throat.
What Homura was doing…there was no other word to describe it. She had Kyoko cradled in her arms, and she was casting magic.
"Magic" could only be the proper term, because that same purple energy was surrounding Kyoko's entire body. "Magic," because Homura was softly chanting something, that might've been Latin or Ancient Egyptian or Swahili, for all Sayaka knew.
"Magic," because Kyoko's wound was closing up on its own, and the bullet was emerging harmlessly from her body, as if Homura had somehow managed to rewind time.
When she was finished, she laid Kyoko back down on the grass, as tenderly as Sayaka had ever seen her do anything. Then, as suddenly as it appeared, this strange side of Homura vanished – to be replaced by her usual scowling self, glancing around the Observation Tower grounds.
"Dammit. Of course she used that to escape," she said, before rounding back on Sayaka. Her hand, still glowing, stretched out for her.
But she pulled it back half a second later. "No…I can't trust myself to do it properly now. I could damage your minds permanently if I screw it up," she whispered, barely audibly. "I…I'll be back for you. The both of you."
Then, within a literal blink of an eye, she was gone.
Sayaka, once more, had no idea how to deal with any of the billion questions running through her mind. Where to even begin.
But none of that stuff mattered more than reaching down, and shaking Kyoko awake.
"Kyoko…oh god, please be okay, Kyoko…" she choked out, between tears she didn't know she'd been producing.
It took only a few seconds for the redhead to awaken, though as far as Sayaka was concerned it must've been aa lifetime. All she knew is how much her heart soared when the other girl's eyes fluttered open.
"Wh…What the fuck jus' happened…?" she asked, and Sayaka was so elated, she didn't even complain about the unnecessary vulgarity. She just leaned down, and pressed her lips against Kyoko's.
"You…big…stupid…dummy…" said Sayaka, punctuating each word with a brief, breathless kiss. "You're the…biggest…stupidest…dummy…in the…whole…dumb…world…"
Kyoko didn't say anything for several moments, simply lying there and accepting the kisses of the girl she cherished.
But finally, when she'd gathered enough strength to sit herself back up, she adopted a self-satisfied smirk and remarked, "Maybe I should be gettin' myself shot more often."
Sayaka countered with an automatic, playful shove, but there was no real anger in it. The two of them were too happy simply to be alive.
Wordlessly, Kyoko wrapped her arms around her roommate, burying her face in her soft blue hair. Sayaka did the same, inhaling the warm, apple-like fragrance of Kyoko's shampoo. She'd never smelt anything so wonderful.
Finally, after what could've been two minutes or two years, the pair broke apart. Only for Kyoko to glance over Sayaka's shoulder, and ruin the mood entirely by frowning.
"Hey, I know this probably don't even make the Top Fifty things we gotta follow up on after all that craziness," she said, stretching out her arm. "But ain't that all yer books an' homework an' shit blowin' away there?"
"Goddammit," Sayaka swore, as she saw that the spilled-out contents of her bookbag were indeed being carried every which way by the wind.
The pair spent the next several minutes tracking down as many pages as they could and stuffing them back where they belonged. It would've easily been the least interesting part of what was turning out to be a very strange day – if not for one thing.
"Weird…this seems heavier than it did earlier," Sayaka told the other girl, flipping the bag open to dig through the contents at the bottom. Only to pull out…
"That the cheese that girl was chewin' on?" asked Kyoko, making a face. "I know this is gonna sound weird comin' from me, but…eww."
The half-eaten block wasn't what caught Sayaka's attention, however. Rather, it was a small, handwritten note that'd been attached to it.
Eat this when you're ready to Awaken from this dream.
[-]
COUNTDOWN TO WALPURGIS NIGHT
Six Hours Remain