(Sorry for the delay. And also, this chapter is longer.)

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[Chapter 8: Of Glasses and Aprons]

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Homura had gotten up early. She was really excited, enthusiasm filling her bones to the point where she couldn't lie down any longer. After all, how could she be sleeping?

Madoka was coming to pick her up today.

The thought itself was euphoric to her. She had finished her routine bathroom duties, made some simple toast and jam for herself, and then proceeded to make an omelette for her parents. Normally her mother would be cooking, as she was the early riser.

But today, Homura took it upon herself. After she was done with the chore, she noticed that her mother was up. The woman came inside the kitchen with a yawn, and Homura wished her a good morning.

"Sit down, mama," she said politely. "I made breakfast."

Her mother looked dazed and stared at Homura with half-open eyelids, processing the situation.

And it took a few moments, before her eyes widened.

"Wow," she said with visible amazement. "My daughter is cooking for me… Its official." She sighed with a smile.

"I have grown old."

Homura giggled lightly, and then served her mother the omelette. There was another one in the kitchen, which she had intended for her father.

"Won't papa wake up?"

"Hmm?" She looked up at her daughter. "Oh, no honey. Its a day off. So he'll be a little late."

Homura mouthed a light 'oh' and nodded, before starting to eat her toast.

"By the way," the mother said with a shine in her eyes, before continuing in a teasing tone."Isn't Madoka-chan coming today?"

Homura was suddenly pink in embarrassment. She nodded, looking down at her toast and avoiding eye contact with her mother.

"You better hurry up and get ready then. I'll give papa the omelette you made." She said, her smile warm as ever.

Homura looked up at her mother, her eyes now glowing with determination. She nodded and munched down her toast, and after doing so, quickly made her way to her room, leaving her mother to eat in peace.

"Oh, I forgot to tell her how breakfast was," she noticed as she stared at the succulent looking omelette that wasn't yet touched. She took a bite using a fork, and her eyebrows twitched.

"Oh my," she mumbled. "She forgot the salt, that silly girl."

But she finished the whole meal in the end and did so quite enthusiastically.

After all, it was her daughter who made it for her. How could she not?

With a lingering smile, she went to the kitchen to start her daily routine and of course, add some salt to the other omelette reserved for her husband.


Madoka was late. Her shift would start at the cafe in less than an hour, and she was supposed to pick up Homura quite earlier. So she grabbed a cupcake she had baked earlier, and munched it down as she had to get dressed in a hurry. Her hair was down, and it covered her eyes, giving her the appearance of a Gothic punk-rock vocalist. She had rummaged quickly through her closet to find a reasonable set of clothes to wear outside, and as soon as she did, she frantically changed.

Her cupcake was finished by the time she had gotten dressed. She tied her hair up in a ponytail, which somewhat made her look a lot less disheveled than she had appeared earlier. After looking at herself quick in the mirror, washing her face, and quickly micro-managing a few stray strands of hair, she hurried out.

Her parents gave her a questioning look as she was in a hurry to leave.

"I'm bringing a new friend over, Mom," she said. "I wanted to tell you earlier, but you two were busy."

Her parents didn't stop her. They were only starting their morning activities, and asked Madoka if she had her phone with her. She nodded and smiled.

"I'm off!" She left in a hurry and didn't hear her parents wish her a safe trip.

"I wonder who her new friend is," Madoka's father looked up at the ceiling from her newspaper.

"Maybe its a boy" the mother said, teasing her husband.

"I sure hope that's not the case." He frowned.

Mrs. Kaname smiled at her husband. It was nice to see a father being so protective of his daughter.

Kind of cute, really.


Homura had to pick the ideal dress. Nothing too fancy. She peered inside her closet and scanned the outfits she owned.

…Every single one was picked out by her mother, and none of them looked fancy to begin with.

Homura had always wanted to wear simple clothes, without vibrant colors and comfortable to wear. She didn't care much about fashion. Honestly she had never understood it. She disliked certain things, and was more or less neutral towards everything else.

Homura's mother had never seen such a spectacle. Her daughter, Homura Akemi, getting frustrated over what to wear. Truly a rare sight, she thought.

"Just wear what you feel like wearing, dear." She said to her daughter as she left her daughter to choose.

Homura hummed a reply, and her eyes fixated onto a certain part of her closet.

She knew what to wear now.


"Ah," Madoka mumbled to herself. "This should be the place."

In the old days of managing the cafe, Madoka had to deliver cakes to clients, so managing directions and memorizing routes had since become a subconscious effort for her mind.

Her family, now having the proper connections, hired people exclusively for delivery later on. Even though Madoka didn't have to personally deliver cakes to people anymore, the acquired skill was etched within her.

So finding Homura's house wasn't difficult for Madoka, even if it would prove to be so for someone else.

She started at the two storied house for a few moments, and gathering her thoughts, she rang the doorbell. After a few moments of patience, a woman in her early thirties opened the front door. Madoka greeted her formally, with no delay. She assumed the woman to be Homura's mother. The eyes, and the hair were a striking similarity between the two.

"Oh, you must be Madoka-chan", the lady said, with a warm smile. "Homura will be here in a moment. Come in!"

Madoka politely refused the invitation, as she didn't quite dress up for a visit to another house. Within a few moments of doing so, Homura's voice could be heard.

"Mama… That must be her. I'll open-" the feminine voice grew louder with proximity, before stopping abruptly. She stood there, stunned, looking straight at Madoka, and then at her mother. Her ears, and gradually her face, grew red in embarrassment. She looked down, trying her level best to reduce her discomposure. Her mother took note of this, but Madoka didn't find anything unusual. She was quite fixated on how the raven haired girl looked. A dark, matte-purple full sleeved shirt, and a pair of black jeans…nothing too fancy, but somehow simple and elegant. What else seemed different was her hair as well. It was let loose, which gave the rather shy girl a mature aura. Madoka felt her own stomach subtly warm up, as her eyes got fixated on that jet black, streamlined hair, held only by a red hairband, but she ignored that feeling.

There was something about Homura today, that made Madoka feel strange. Something was out of place. But not necessarily in a bad way. Something she couldn't quite put her finger upon.

Homura's mother subtly urged her daughter to go and talk with Madoka, which she did, after taking a deep breath.

"G-Good Morning, Kaname-san," came a meek voice.

Madoka smiled. Homura's shy personality really contrasted the mature aura she now possessed. It was amusing, and also -dare she say- absolutely adorable.

"Morning, Homura-chan," She chucked. "Ready to go?"

Homura looked down, and nodded. Her mother watched the scene unfold from her place in the porch. It was amazing how well her daughter communicated with that Madoka girl, she had thought. Quite impressive, she had to admit.

"Take care you two," she said in response to Madoka and Homura saying goodbye. "Try to come home before it gets dark, okay?"

Homura nodded, before her mother continued. "And don't ride the train. Walking home is easier, and faster."

She saw her daughter don an expression of disbelief, as if all that shyness she had was suddenly gone, and was replaced with heartbreak. It happened every time her mother asked her to not take the train.

She saw it coming, and with a sigh, she closed the door after seeing them off.

She leaned her back against the door, and looked up at the white ceiling. Homura isn't a particularly loud girl, but after her departure, the house seemed… grey. Her thoughts focused on her daughter, who had not had a friend in her lifetime.

"…Is she really going to be okay?" She muttered to herself.

'Of course she is,' she corrected her thoughts. 'Homura is a big girl now.'

And with that, she went back to wake her husband up for breakfast.


The trip to the cafe had been awkward, to say the least. Madoka had asked Homura how she was, and Homura responded with a feeble "Good". Madoka didn't take this to heart. She knew that Homura was just feeling shy. She complimented Homura's outfit, and did so casually, so that the tension would break. But it had backfired, and Homura just murmured a weak "Really?", before avoiding eye contact for the entire trip. Madoka had also noticed that Homura's face was bright red after that. So she didn't feel bad about the lack of eye contact in the slightest.

But she still felt that strangeness everytime she looked at Homura today. That feeling was the same as when she'd enter a room with a goal in mind, but forget immediately what it was. Like that. But exactly what seemed out of place, she didn't know. She didn't think too deeply, however, and chose to let it go.

Eventually, the duo had reached the cafe. Upon entry, however, they noticed that the place was overwhelmingly full of customers.

It wasn't crowded, but not a single table was left unfilled. While this seemed like a good thing to the pink-haired girl, she wondered if Homura would feel some discomfort. Upon looking at her, she seemed unfazed by the number of people present.

That was good, Madoka had thought. The two of them could just hang out in her room, she had thought. But her plans were put to sleep, as Madoka's father had said something that seemed outrageous to Madoka.

"We're full, dear," he said with a hint of desperation in her voice. "Could you ask if your friend could just help us with the tables? We'll pay her for it too."

Madoka frowned, but before she could utter a word, her mother entered the scene.

"Hey, its not okay to ask someone to do that out of the blue!" Madoka agreed with her mother, and stared at her father in a way as to show that what he asked of Homura seemed unreasonable.

"Ah," her father started to say, "I'm sorry, dear. I shouldn't h-"

"I'll do it," Homura interrupted. All three of the Kanames present stared at the girl with a look of confusion.

"Its okay," Madoka's mother said to her, smiling apologetically. "You don't have to feel bad about refusing."

"No," Homura said, her eyes bluntly stared at them through her spectacles. "I want to help in any way I can."

There was some uneasiness in her voice, and only Madoka could sense it. But there was a fire of determination in there too. That made Madoka feel at ease.

"Okay, then Homura-chan," the pink haired girl said, putting her fists to her waist. "Lets get you in an apron!"

"Eh?" Homura conveyed a look of disbelief and hesitation. "Do I have to wear one?"

Madoka chuckled. The air of uneasiness that had existed between them for the whole day, had suddenly disappeared. This was the first time Homura ever spoke in a manner so carefree. It made her heart flutter.

She got through.

"Yes, silly," she said, with a airy smile. "Its not the kind you wear in the kitchen. It looks better, you know?"

Homura looked at Madoka with eyes that reflected amazement, which resembled the look of wonder seen only on the faces of children. The sheer innocence of it made Madoka quell up with happiness inside.

And at that moment, she figured out what was out of place this whole time.

Homura had worn a pair of glasses and her hair was done in pigtails the first time the two met. But today, seeing how the jet black hair, was let to fall free in a silky stream, it felt as if the pair of glasses she had on, were not meant to be there. Maybe it was wrong of Madoka to think that way, but she had this feeling she couldn't describe.

"Do you have any difficulty seeing without the glasses?" She had unconsciously blurted out.

Homura was caught off guard by this. But she treated it like a normal question, much to Madoka's relief.

"No", she said, adjusting her spectacles subconsciously. "They are reading glasses. I used to wear prescription ones, but my eyesight is better now. Maybe its just a habit I haven't let go of yet."

Madoka noticed that Homura seemed more composed than usual. There was still a shy girl standing in front of her, and the calmness that she felt, was nuanced to say the very least.

"Could I hold onto your glasses for a while?" Madoka said again, and immediately cursed herself inwardly for saying something like that so thoughtlessly. But it was as if her mind was acting of it's own accord. "I'll give it back afterwards, okay?"

Homura didn't feel defensive. Or abashed. She had faith in Madoka. She trusted her. She was her friend. But she did not understand why Madoka asked for her glasses. Maybe it was part of the job to not wear glasses? Or maybe they just wanted to keep it safe? She didn't know, for all the possible reasons she could think of, seemed unreasonable. But she trusted Madoka. That did not waver in the slightest.

"S-sure." She took off her glasses, and gracefully put it into Madoka's outstretched hand.

After that, Madoka calmly asked her mother to show her how to get the apron on, as she excused herself to go to her room for a moment.

She hastily walked into her room, and locked the door behind her. She leaned her back against the door, and looked up against the ceiling. It was almost noon, and her room was filled partially with a bright light that came in through the window. She was temporarily alone with her thoughts.

"Stupid girl, why did you go and do that?" She murmured to herself. But it didn't convey any rage or loathing. Maybe she just felt regret. Why would she suddenly run off with a person's glasses for no reason, she didn't know. She didn't even introduce her properly to her parents.

"Ugh", she was verbal with the amount of regret she had felt.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew she couldn't coop herself up in her room any longer. She had to go out there.

But even through her closed eyes, she couldn't look away from the image of Homura's calm and collected gaze. Its as if by removing the glasses, Homura seemed like a completely different person. That look didn't convey much emotion. It seemed devoid of any, in fact. The shy, hesitant, and moe bespectacled girl in pigtails, and the calm, collected girl with an unflinching gaze.

Madoka shook off her thoughts with a deep breath. She laid down the pair of glasses on her reading table, and went out of her room.

Even if the girl ignored it, something was different. Madoka's curiosity was ignited. The girl with the jet black hair was the exact embodiment of mystery.

...A mystery that she craved to unfold.

-(End of Chapter 8)-


Ah finally. We're gaining momentum. Also, I'm writing the KyoSaya part of the story with ample background. As I am writing the two parallelly, I took a lot of time for this update. National Exams coming soon for me. I just hope I don't do bad, heh.

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Take Care

DSH99