Les Fleurs du Mal – We'll Talk About Everything
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.
[-]
Madoka Kaname couldn't believe what she was seeing.
Standing right in the center of the street was her newest friend. Homura Akemi – the girl who'd transferred into their homeroom class a little over a month ago, and whose cool and quiet beauty had captivated Madoka from the very moment they met.
And, lying cold and still at her feet was Madoka's oldest friend, Sayaka Miki. Or rather…
Sayaka-chan's corpse.
"S…Sayaka-chan…" she whimpered, falling to her knees and weeping at the sight. She wanted to move closer to her friend's body, but her legs simply refused to cooperate. "What…What happened? We were just sitting here talking, when she started saying these…awful things about herself. Saying she was selfish and stupid. And then all of a sudden that ring she's always wearing cracked in two, and…something came out…"
The tears were flowing freely now. "What was that thing?" she said, lips trembling. "What'd it do to Sayaka-chan…?"
"Madoka, that was Sayaka Miki. She…oh, forget it. It would take too long to explain," Homura all but snapped. As aloof as she raven-haired girl sometimes acted in class, Madoka had never heard this tone out of her before. "The important thing is, she's gone. But at least you're safe."
"How can you say it like that? So…coldly?" Madoka demanded through hot tears.
Homura looked down at her haughtily. Standing like that, dressed in that strange uniform with her hair flowing gently in the wind, Madoka was ashamed to say she found her more beautiful than ever.
"People die all the time," she told the pink-haired girl. "It's not worth getting upset over."
Madoka's voice died in her throat. How was she even supposed to respond to something like that?
"Now, we need to get moving. These streets are empty now, but I know from experience that this Labyrinth will have attracted…attention," said Homura with a scowl. "Best we leave before Mami Tomoe and Kyoko Sakura arrive."
"What does Mami-sempai have to do with all this?" Madoka asked. "And who's Kyoko?"
Homura winced, like she'd said more than she intended. "Forget about that, Madoka. I told you, it's not important," she replied. "Just come with me, and I'll make sure to protect…"
But as soon as she reached down to try and help Madoka to her feet, the other girl instinctively swatted it away.
"I'm not going anywhere with you!" she practically screamed. "Not until you tell me what's going on!"
Madoka was rarely if ever quick to anger, but she felt justified here. A weird monster had shown up out of nowhere, and Homura had just obliterated it by pulling out more military ordinance that an entire division of the SDF, and now she was telling her Sayaka-chan was dead…
But her fury stopped cold when she saw Homura's expression. Being yelled at by Madoka seemed to have drained all the color from her face. Now, she looked more like a toddler who'd just been scolded by her mother for sneaking cookies.
"Madoka, I…I know this must be hard for you…" said Homura in a tiny voice. The shift in demeanor from her earlier coldness was like night and day. Somehow, Madoka felt certain this was Homura's true face. "And I know I haven't given you any reason to trust me. But it isn't safe out here. Please, just come with me."
She was begging. Thinking back to the gorgeous, brilliant, talented girl who'd transferred into their class six weeks ago, Madoka wouldn't have imagined she would ever hear her beg.
Despite her best instincts, there was a large part of Madoka's heart that felt compelled to comply with her pleas. A part she didn't fully understand.
But before she could do more than hesitantly stretch out her fingers, another voice rang through the night sky.
I WOULDN'T RECOMMEND DOING THAT, MADOKA KANAME.
Madoka might not have recognized the voice, but Homura clearly did. She wheeled around, the mask of cold fury sweeping back over her features in an instant. She pulled out a military-grade pistol as if from nowhere, and aimed it directly at her quarry.
It was…she wasn't really sure what to call it. A small, white, furry animal, but one that didn't quite match any creature Madoka had ever seen before. Some strange cross between a rabbit, a cat, and a weasel – but with pinkish-red eyes that stared back at her unblinkingly.
"Stay out of this," she hissed venomously. "Take another step near her, and I'll pump you full of enough lead to choke on."
OH MY. HOW ILLOGICAL.
YOU KNOW AS WELL AS I DO, HOMURA AKEMI, THAT SUCH AN ACTION WOULD BE UTTERLY POINTLESS. ALTHOUGH IT WOULD HARDLY BE THE FIRST INSTANCE OF FUTILE ACTION WE'VE OBSERVED AMONG THE HUMAN SPECIES.
"Yes, yes. You'd just create a new body from the ambient mana in the air, I know," said Homura. "Doesn't mean it wouldn't feel satisfying."
ANOTHER INHERENTLY ILLOGICAL SENTIMENT. IT SEEMS WE MAY NEVER TRULY UNDERSTAND HUMANS.
"H…Homura, who is this?" asked Madoka in a trembling voice.
But before the other girl could offer a reply, the strange creature bounded forward.
HELLO. MY NAME IS KYUBEY. LET'S GET RIGHT TO THE POINT, MADOKA KANAME. I WANT YOU TO MAKE A CONTRACT WITH ME, AND BECOME A…
"He's an alien hive mind intelligence, tricking innocent girls into serving as magical batteries to combat the expansion of entropy," Homura cut him off, her words toneless and clinical. "If you want to see what happens when a girl he's Contracted is no longer useful to him, just look at Sayaka Miki."
Madoka's jaw fell open, and a tiny gasp escaped her throat.
The black-haired girl turned back to Kyubey and added with a sneer, "Did I cover all the key points, Incubator? I know you can't lie, except by omission. Care to object to anything I've shared?"
The small creature slowly approached Homura's feet, its bushy tail swaying back and forth.
WELL, THIS WAS CERTAINLY AN UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENT. I'VE NEVER HAD SUCH A KNOWLEDGEABLE MAGICAL GIRL INTERRUPT ANOTHER'S CONTRACT NEGOTIATIONS. I SUPPOSE THIS IS WHY YOU'VE WORKED SO HARD TO KEEP HER AWAY FROM ME?
REGARDLESS, YOU ARE CORRECT. BEYOND THE SUBJECTIVE JUDGMENT BEING APPLIED WITH THE PEJORATIVE TERM "TRICKING," I CANNOT DENY THE VERACITY OF YOUR CLAIMS.
BUT DOES THAT TRULY MATTER TO YOU, MADOKA KANAME? IF I CAN HELP YOU CHANGE ALL THIS…
WOULD YOU NOT PAY ANY PRICE?
Madoka froze in place. She dared not even imagine that the creature was speaking the truth. Because if so…
"Do you mean…" she said breathlessly. "You could bring Sayaka-chan back to life…?"
"Madoka, no!" exclaimed Homura, but now it was her turn to be interrupted.
NO, MADOKA KANAME. BUT YOU CERTAINLY COULD.
IF I UNLEASH YOUR INNER MAGIC, YOU COULD REVERSE THE COURSE OF FATE FOR A THOUSAND OTHER GIRLS. PERHAPS EVEN A MILLION. I CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE THE MAGICAL POTENTIAL YOU WIELD.
"It's not worth it, Madoka!" Homura cried out, her voice so distraught that she barely sounded like herself. "Whatever he gives you, he'll take back ten times more! Trust me, I know!"
Madoka clutched at her shoulders, her mind whirling. She didn't know what to think anymore.
"So…this 'contract' he's talking about…" she began, trying to puzzle it out aloud. "You took it? And…And so did Sayaka-chan?"
I GRANTED THEIR WISHES, AND IN EXCHANGE, TURNED THEM INTO MAGICAL GIRLS. I WAS ENTIRELY UPFRONT ABOUT THIS ARRANGEMENT. IT ISN'T MY FAULT IF, LATER ON, THEY CAME TO REGRET THE WISHES THEY CHOSE.
I ASSUME THAT IS THE CASE WITH YOU, HOMURA AKEMI? CURIOUSLY, I FIND I CANNOT RECALL MAKING A CONTRACT WITH YOU AT ALL. YET IT IS THE ONLY REASONABLE CONCLUSION.
BUT WHAT ABOUT YOU, MADOKA? WHAT IS THE WISH THAT WOULD MAKE YOUR SOUL SHINE?
"Madoka, please. Please listen to me," said Homura, falling to her knees and clutching at the other girl's hand. "You saw what happened to Sayaka Miki. This bastard turned her into a monster. And if you accept his Contract…the same thing will happen to you. Except infinitely worse. A Witch born of your soul – as wicked and sinful as you are good and pure – would have the power to wipe out galaxies."
Madoka stood there for some time, not saying anything. Her pink eyes slowly slid between the Incubator, waiting expectantly; Homura, kneeling before her and utterly broken; and Sayaka's still, unmoving body.
Finally, she made her decision.
"I still don't understand everything you're telling me. But if you can really grant anything I ask…" she told Kyubey. "Then I think I know exactly what to Wish for."
"No! Not again! It can't happen again!" Homura wailed, aiming her pistol straight at the expressionless alien. But her hands were shaking too much to pull the trigger.
Madoka took a deep breath, and then spoke her Wish.
"I Wish that Sayaka and Homura never made Contracts with you!"
Homura's jaw fell slack; if she'd been expecting Madoka to make a particular Wish, that certainly hadn't been it. The raven-haired girl pulled her knees up to her chest, as if bracing herself for what came next.
Except that nothing happened.
WELL NOW. ANOTHER UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENT.
I WAS SO CERTAIN THAT WITH YOUR CURRENT LEVELS OF KARMIC DESTINY, YOU COULD MAKE ANY WISH THE HUMAN MIND MIGHT POSSIBLY CONCEIVE OF. YET THAT WISH IS ONE THAT'S SEEMINGLY DENIED TO ME.
I SHOULD BE ABLE TO GRANT THE FIRST HALF OF YOUR WISH, IF THAT IS AN ACCEPTABLE SUBSTITUTE. BUT THE SECOND IS BEYOND MY REACH.
YOU GROW MORE CURIOUS BY THE MINUTE, HOMURA AKEMI.
"I…" whispered Madoka, casting a conflicted glance toward her best friend's corpse. But ultimately, her expression hardened. "No. I won't do it unless I can save Homura-chan, too. If she stays a Magical Girl, she'll turn into one of those…things too, won't she?"
BECOMING A WITCH IS THE INHERENT END STATE OF A MAGICAL GIRL'S LIFE CYCLE. IT'S PERFECTLY NATURAL.
YOUR PLANET HAS MANY CREATURES THAT EXPERIENCE A PERIOD OF METAMORPHOSIS. YOU WOULDN'T PREVENT A CATERPILLAR FROM BECOMING A BUTTERFLY, WOULD YOU?
"That's awful. That thing was…if it really was Sayaka-chan, then she must've been in so much pain," she said, her voice cracking. "I won't let that happen to any more of my friends. And I won't give you what you want."
Homura looked up at her, blinking away tears of disbelief. Madoka was slightly unnerved by the expression the other girl was offering her, which seemed almost…reverential.
VERY WELL. I CAN SEE THERE'S NO POINT IN TRYING TO PUSH YOU FOR NOW. THERE WILL BE OTHER OPPORTUNITIES.
AFTER ALL…
The alien turned away from them, its tail swishing behind it as it faded into the night.
TOMORROW IS THE NIGHT OF WALPURGIS.
[-]
Madoka sat bolt upright, her face drenched with sweat.
She never remembered her dreams. Not in detail, at least. It was more vague impressions of thoughts and feelings.
And that last dream had certainly made her feel…off.
But all that faded when she rolled over in her futon. A lazy grin spread over her face as her eyes took in the person slumbering peacefully beside her.
She didn't need to dwell on some half-forgotten nightmare. Here in the real world, she was living a dream that was nothing but sweet.
And she had Homura Akemi to thank for that.
Unfortunately, it didn't take long for that initial surge of warmth to turn dark. Guilt filled the pit of her stomach. Clearly, she wasn't pulling her weight in this relationship. Homura made her feel so wanted, and cherished, and safe. All she wanted to do was return the favor.
But Homura's breakdown on the bus proved they still had a long road ahead of them. Something had been slowly crystallizing in her head ever since that moment. Thoughts she'd been mulling over for a long time at this point, even if the realization of what to call them was only just starting to dawn.
Homura…wasn't just sad. Lonely. Self-pitying and self-destructive. In a very real sense…
She was sick.
Madoka glanced back at her girlfriend again, making sure she was still asleep. She didn't want her looking over her shoulder as she took the next step. Just going down this rabbit hole almost seemed an awful invasion of privacy.
But it couldn't be helped. She had to know. How else would she be able to help?
Carefully, Madoka pulled her phone from its charger, booted up the web browser, and typed into the search bar:
~how to tell if your friend is depressed~
Immediately, she was inundated by thousands of results. Clearly this wasn't an uncommon thing for people to look up. Deciding she should probably go with the experts first, and recalling a discussion she'd once had with her mama after watching a medical show on TV, she clicked on a link to the "Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders."
Depression DSM-5 Diagnostic Criteria
The DSM-5 outlines the following criterion to make a diagnosis of depression. The individual must be experiencing five or more symptoms during the same 2-week period and at least one of the symptoms should be either (1) depressed mood or (2) loss of interest or pleasure.
Depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day.
Markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities most of the day, nearly every day.
Significant weight loss when not dieting or weight gain, or decrease or increase in appetite nearly every day.
A slowing down of thought and a reduction of physical movement (observable by others, not merely subjective feelings of restlessness or being slowed down).
Fatigue or loss of energy nearly every day.
Feelings of worthlessness or excessive or inappropriate guilt nearly every day.
Diminished ability to think or concentrate, or indecisiveness, nearly every day.
Recurrent thoughts of death, recurrent suicidal ideation without a specific plan, or a suicide attempt or a specific plan for committing suicide.
To receive a diagnosis of depression, these symptoms must cause the individual clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning. The symptoms must also not be a result of substance abuse or another medical condition.
Madoka chewed over these words for a little while, letting them churn around in her brain. She went back to the first page and tried a few more of the links, but they all seemed to say much the same thing, just in different words.
So she returned to the DSM definition, and thought back over Homura's recent words and actions.
Depressed mood most of the day – that was hard to tell. Homura did make an effort to put on a smile almost every time she saw Madoka, but how many of those smiles were actually genuine? And when Madoka wasn't around, Homura didn't even seen to bother with false ones.
Markedly diminished interest or pleasure in all, or almost all, activities most of the day, nearly every day – Homura joined her for any number of activities, fairly regularly, so that didn't seem to fit. Except…had Homura ever really showed interest in any of that stuff? She went along with whatever Madoka suggested, but rarely if ever put forth ideas of her own. And when they were doing things like playing Smash Bros. yesterday, she seemed to approach it more as a job she had to do rather than a source of entertainment. Was Homura ever truly having fun with her?
Significant weight loss when not dieting or weight gain, or decrease or increase in appetite nearly every day – that one was an easy "no." If there was something going wrong with Homura's brain, it hadn't yet bled into the rest of her (undeniably stunning) body. At least, not that Madoka could see.
A slowing down of thought and a reduction of physical movement – that arguably fit better, though. Outside of P.E., where Homura's performance was as amazing as ever, she was awfully…what was the word? "Lethargic"? Certainly, she seemed to prefer staying inside and lying around with Madoka to more strenuous activities.
Fatigue or loss of energy nearly every day – didn't this seem pretty similar to the last one? Then again, these symptoms hadn't been designed for someone who was essentially a magical superhero; maybe Homura abstained from exerting herself too much in daily life, so that she'd have the energy to do what she needed to at night.
Feelings of worthlessness or excessive or inappropriate guilt nearly every day – yes.
Diminished ability to think or concentrate, or indecisiveness, nearly every day – a week ago, Madoka wouldn't have thought this one fit at all. But some of what she'd seen lately, the way Homura could just spiral if the wrong thing set her off…
Recurrent thoughts of death, recurrent suicidal ideation without a specific plan, or a suicide attempt or a specific plan for committing suicide – did it count if the person had magical powers and knew jumping fifty meters wouldn't kill her?
Madoka let out a sigh as she turned off her phone screen. This was so much more complicated than she'd thought. But she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. The human brain was far from simple, and it wasn't like she'd studied psychology at all.
Plus, a part of her felt somewhat hypocritical. She'd heard the saying that you were never supposed to self-diagnose, but she couldn't help but feel like more than a few of these symptoms applied to her, as well.
…Especially that feelings of worthlessness part.
Regardless, Homura was the one who needed a helping hand right now. Maybe she didn't realize it consciously, but she did.
And after making Madoka the happiest girl in the world, by accepting her feelings and offering hers in turn…
The least Madoka owed her was to provide that hand.
Humming softly to herself, Madoka got out of bed to use the bathroom and splash some water on her face.
Never realizing that her girlfriend had been awake and watching her phone the entire time.
[-]
Kyoko's mind was presently, as the redhead herself would've termed it, a clusterfuck.
She wasn't sure whether being a Messenger for the Law of Cycles was the kind of job that had an orientation, but if so she'd obviously missed the boat. Meaning she hadn't exactly been prepared for the experience of sharing the memories of all her alternate-timeline selves.
That was without a doubt the weirdest thing about her current status – even weirder than the fact that she could now manifest the embodiment of her inner turmoil and despair into her own personal Stand. Messengers were a combination of every version of a particular Magical Girl, from every timeline the Law of Cycles was connected to. In Kyoko's case, that amounted to hundreds.
There were versions of her that'd never come to Mitakihara City. Versions that died cold and alone in some ditch. Versions that…had never lost their family in the first place…
But given that it'd been Sayaka "inducting" her, their shared memories had naturally centered on the blue-haired girl most of all. In some timelines, they never stopped being enemies. In some, they were merely friends, as Sayaka instead got together with violin boy or Kaname or Mami-san (or, in one very aberrant case, with Li'l Miss Homophobe herself).
Yet in more than half the memories she viewed, no matter what else changed, her relationship with Sayaka remained the one, steady constant. She saw a hundred confessions; a hundred first kisses; a hundred whispered oaths of love.
She even saw a few timelines where their relationship had progressed…a lot further than that. She had to resist the temptation to simply lie back and let visions of their alternate selves fucking run through her head on loop.
"You look way too happy with yourself right now," said her roommate as she returned to their shared bedroom. Having just stepped out of the shower, water droplets still glistened across her pale skin, while a pair of plain white towels were wrapped around her torso and hair.
Kyoko shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say?" she shot back. "Can ya blame me fer getting' distracted by visions o' yer naked ass?"
Sayaka gritted her teeth and let out a low growling noise, but said nothing in response. The redhead blew her a raspberry, knowing she couldn't contradict her. Not without mentioning any of the other timelines, which was one-hundred-percent verboten outside of their shared Labyrinth.
Never knew who was listening, otherwise.
"Anyway…" Sayaka breathed out, forcing herself to change the subject. "C'mon, get dressed already. We'll be late for school."
"S'definitely gonna be an interestin' one," said Kyoko, nodding. "'Specially with that test on…the hell'd they call it again? Ah, right. Trigomotry."
"Trigonometry," Sayaka corrected her with a sigh. "Jeez, if you can't even get the name right, you're gonna flunk for sure."
Of course, while the blue-haired girl was doubtlessly right on that point – Kyoko was absolutely clueless when it came to any math more complicated than "five apples plus Kyoko equals zero apples" – that wasn't what they were actually talking about at all.
With Homura's Familiars constantly watching over them, they'd needed to devise a series of codewords to use in everyday conversation. And because Sayaka had been involved, that code was way more complicated than it needed to be.
"Trigonometry" was one of several words that meant "Walpurgisnacht."
"I'll jus', uh…hafta copy off o' ya, then," Kyoko told her carefully. "Or are ya gonna get on yer high horse 'bout how cheatin' is totally wrong an' junk?"
"There are…some exceptions. When it's really important," said Sayaka, choosing her words with caution as well. "This one qualifies. All rules are out the window when it comes to a test this big."
"Well y'know what'd really help me study?" asked the redhead. "A big ol' slice o' pizza. Seriously, I am craaaaavin' it. Ya foun' any good places lately?"
"Pizza," of course, meant Mami Tomoe. Kyoko had picked that one.
"Not yet," replied Sayaka, eyes darting from one side to the other, like she was expecting a Clara Doll to jump out of Kyoko's unfolded laundry at any second. "But I think I've got a lead on one. We might have to skip homeroom to check it out, though."
Kyoko simply nodded, not trusting herself to say anything more without giving up the game. Having a few hundred other Kyokos rolling around in her head didn't help much when they were all kind of dumbasses.
Still, there were some advantages. Impulsively, she leaned up and kissed her roommate full on the lips.
A sensation that was magnified a hundredfold. Like she was kissing scores of Sayakas at once.
"C'mon," she said to the blue-haired girl, whose face had turned approximately the same color as Kyoko's hair. "Thought we were s'pposed ta be in a hurry or somethin'."
[-]
Homura Akemi walked slowly along the road leading to the closest bus stop. Madoka's fingers were laced tightly around her own.
This was always…awkward. As comforting as it was to retreat into her pocket dimension, where she didn't have to pretend to be anything other than the demon she was…the more time she spent there, the harder it was to return to the surface and pretend like everything was normal.
Right now, simply being near Madoka felt instinctually wrong. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word of affection – all of it just served to remind her that their entire relationship was built on a web of lies.
And this day, of all days, she couldn't afford that. She couldn't afford distractions. Not of this sort, and not of…
Homura blinked, remembering what she'd witnessed, spying over Madoka's shoulder like some creepy stalker. She forced herself to acknowledge that, sans any other context, what Madoka was doing was quite sweet. She'd recognized that Homura was in pain, and was looking for ways to help her alleviate it.
But of course, her "issues" were something far beyond the realm of human psychology.
She supposed, on an intellectual level, she could recognize she probably qualified as clinically depressed. It just seemed a woefully inadequate diagnosis. As well as a wholly untreatable one.
If there was a point where therapy and medication could've helped her fucked-up brain, she'd crossed it lifetimes ago.
It was almost enough to make her chuckle. Who'd ever heard of the Devil getting mental health treatment? The closest she'd come at this point was one session of therapy from an anime character (and one whose psyche was just as screwy as hers, honestly).
Still, none of those were things she could tell Madoka outright. If her girlfriend – crap, she hadn't braced herself for using that word, even mentally – ever tried to broach the subject, Homura would have to respond…tactfully.
If it meant bullshitting her way through whatever articles Madoka might've found about "self-care" or "mindfulness exercises"…then fine. She could play along. So long as Madoka believed she was helping her, the pink-haired girl would surely be happy.
And right now, there was literally nothing more important in the universe than maintaining Madoka's happiness.
That was why she'd resolved that, from sunrise this morning to sunrise of the next, she wouldn't leave Madoka's side. Not even for an instant. The risk was too great to do otherwise.
True, that course of action carried its own pitfalls. She wouldn't be able to check on her Familiars, or keep an eye on Mami Tomoe. But she would just have to trust in all the preparations she'd managed to make across the past three days. All the threats she'd successfully eliminated.
This Walpurgis Night would be different. She owed Madoka that much.
And she owed it to the hundred-plus other Madokas who hadn't survived their own.
A buzzing sound startled Homura out of her reverie. She watched as Madoka used her spare hand – the right one refused to let go of Homura's left – to pull her phone from her pocket.
"Oh, it's an email from mama!" she said in surprise. "Let's see…oh, that's a shame. There's been a blackout at the hotel in Paris. So mama's company is sending her and papa back home early."
So her actions following the latest "rewind" hadn't altered this particular event. Junko and Tomohisa Kaname would still be returning to Japan right as the sun set on the Night of Walpurgis.
This was another complication she could do without. Briefly, Homura was tempted to interfere somehow; damage the plane to delay its takeoff, or maybe place a sleeping spell on the married couple so they'd miss the flight entirely.
But that would require breaking her oath and leaving Madoka alone. She couldn't afford to take that chance.
Sasa Yuki had been a moron, and shown her hand prematurely. Oriko Mikuni had been cleverer, but hobbled herself with an ill-fated attempt at parlay. But she couldn't trust the next enemy would make those same mistakes.
"Well…at least we'll get to see them tonight! I'd better let my aunties know," added Madoka after a few moments of silence. "Maybe we can all have a nice dinner together. They were so kind, taking us in on such short notice."
"That sounds good, Madoka. I'd like a chance to formally express my gratitude as well," said Homura, faking a smile.
Anything to keep Madoka occupied tonight. Anything to keep her happy. Anything to keep her safe.
The bus was pulling up now, and as always, Homura let her girlfriend go first. She cast her eyes furtively from one side to the next, ensuring there was no one following them, and then boarded as well.
It no longer surprised her that at least half the other passengers were manga characters. Her unconscious reality-warping seemed to correlate with her mental state, and right now her anxiety was absolutely through the roof.
Matoi and Mankanshoku were nowhere to be found, but in their place were Takayama and Sonoda; Kase and Yamada; Toomi and Komano. As well as…
Oh shit.
"Let's sit up here by the front, Madoka," Homura said at once. She grabbed onto Madoka's arm and pivoted mid-step, practically dragging her into the seat directly behind the driver.
Hopefully, it was enough to prevent her from noticing who was sitting three rows behind.
Homura knew Madoka's tastes in anime and manga, and that they didn't go nearly as "deep" as her own. She'd put all her willpower into keeping the few properties the pink-haired girl was familiar with out of this distorted reality, and so far, it seemed to have worked. No Sailor Moon, no Cardcaptor Sakura, no Gundam (not that there was all that much yuri to worry about in the latter).
But this was a different problem entirely. Even if Madoka didn't know the source material, at least all of the other girls-love couples were Japanese, and blended into the background well enough.
That wasn't the case with Ymir and Historia Reiss.
Manga illustrations tended to "smooth out" distinguishing racial characteristics, but here in real life the girls' vaguely Germanic features stuck out like a sore thumb. At least they had the decency to be wearing normal clothes rather than their Scout Uniforms, and at least there was basically no chance Madoka would recognize them on sight – the bleak, gritty world of Attack on Titan couldn't have been farther from the innocent girl's tastes if it tried – but the pair were sure to draw eyes simply by being recognizably foreign. Homura couldn't afford another "Fakir" situation.
But perhaps she was getting wound up for nothing. With any luck, Madoka hadn't even noticed that…
"Oh, I know I shouldn't be staring," the pink-haired girl whispered. "But are those girls back there foreign exchange students? I've never seen them around Mitakihara before."
Homura really should've known by now that relying on "luck" never worked out for her.
She let out a long sigh, trying to compose herself. Eventually, she said, "Perhaps. Or recent immigrants. We should leave them their privacy, regardless."
Unfortunately, that was easier said than done, given how loud the facsimile of Ymir was being.
"Just one more year, Your Highness!" she whooped. "Then we can finally get married!"
Homura didn't need to look back to know Historia was flushing – partly from what her partner had said, and partly from all the attention they were drawing.
"I…I'm excited too, Ymir," replied the blonde girl. "But you, umm…don't have to call me that, okay? Not here."
The taller girl hooked an arm around her shoulder. "Has nothing to do with your crown. You were always a queen to me, even when you were Krista," she declared. "Sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, though. I'm just glad I don't have to hold back anymore."
Then she said something that chilled Homura to the bone.
"Besides, not like any of this is canon. We're only here because sweet cheeks over there (A) thinks I'm Best Girl, and (B) hates that I got killed off before we could get hitched."
Oh no.
No no no no no no no no no…
"In fact, I should talk to her about that. Sit tight, Historia, I gotta have a word. One 'Island Devil' to another."
This hadn't even been on her radar of things to be worried about, but in retrospect it made perfect sense. She had little to no control over her subconscious creations. And now that she was self-aware of the fact that she was creating them in the first place…
Well, it didn't take much of a leap for them to do the same.
It wasn't without precedent. Anthy's doppelganger had clearly known precisely what she was, even before Homura was willing to acknowledge it herself. But Anthy Himemiya was inscrutable and oracular at the best of times, so it'd been easy to miss.
Ymir, on the other hand, was about as subtle as a Titan to the face. Reading the manga, that quality had greatly endeared her to Homura. She'd always enjoyed girls far bolder and braver than she – and if they were queer, too, that was definitely a bonus.
But right now, all that meant was that the wielder of the Jaw Titan was about to walk over and spill enough metafictional vomit onto Madoka's head to drown her in.
Homura's fingers gripped tightly onto Madoka's, dreading what she was about to hear. Not for the first time, she wished – no, not that word, never that word – that she could simply wave a hand and make these phantoms go away, as easily as they'd appeared.
Make it all go away.
But instead, the second-strongest entity to ever exist in this universe felt utterly powerless, as a figment of her imagination walked up to say…
"Yo. Thanks for this."
Homura blinked her eyes open. She glanced over to Madoka, who looked equally bewildered, if for entirely different reasons.
"Excuse me?" asked the black-haired girl, raising an eyebrow.
"I know you didn't mean for like…half this shit to happen. But speaking just for me, can't really say I mind all that much," said Ymir. "Like, let's face it. The end of our story turned out pretty shitty for Historia and me. Sure, it was deep and tragic and all that jazz, but we got royally screwed. You gave us a better one. Even if for just a little while."
"She's right!" piped up Historia, having snuck up behind her partner with her hand raised high. "You keep beating yourself up, but haven't you noticed you gave everyone around you their best possible lives? That can't have been an accident!"
"Umm…Homura-chan?" Madoka mumbled. "Do you know these girls from somewhere? What're they talking about?"
"They're rambling. Talking nonsense," replied Homura at once, gripping her temple and grimacing. This crap was getting so convoluted that it was giving her a migraine. "And I've never seen them before in my life. Go away."
She could tell Madoka was a bit dismayed by how rude she was being, but it couldn't be helped. This conversation needed to be stopped now.
"Well, if that's what you want. Just trying to pay things forward a bit," said Ymir, shrugging and throwing her arm around the other girl once again. "C'mon Historia, let's get off here. I wanna enjoy this time while we can."
Just as she spoke these words, the bus came to a stop and the doors swung open. Historia nodded mutedly and allowed herself to be led by the shoulder, but turned back one more time just before descending the steps, her deep blue eyes boring straight into Madoka's.
"One piece of advice," she told the thoroughly confused girl. "I know how it feels when you let the one you love sacrifice herself for you. It eats at you forever. Please don't make the same mistake."
[-]
"This…" said Kyoko, smacking her lips around some strawberry-flavored Rocky. "Has gotta be the single dumbes' idea ya've ever had. An' sorry, but that's sayin' somethin'."
It was a mark of how much Sayaka ultimately agreed with her that she didn't thwack her roommate over the head. Nevertheless…
"I know, but it's the only idea we've got left," she muttered, crossing her arms and frowning. "Just pick up the pace, okay? If we just miss homeroom, I don't think it'll be that big a deal. But any later than that, and the…teacher…is gonna get even more suspicious."
Moving through the city was a necessarily slow affair when you could never be certain whether or not you were being watched by magical evil minions. Homura's Familiars were too simple-minded to properly understand most human behaviors, but they would be taking all their observations straight back to their Mother Witch.
This close to the deadline, they couldn't afford for her to realize they'd never lost their memories in the first place. If she did, having their brains blasted back to infancy would be about the best-case scenario to hope for.
So they both tried to walk as casually as possible, stopping regularly to browse through candy shops or admire the clothing stores they passed. It was inefficient, but necessary, to throw any Familiars that might be tailing them off their trail.
Funnily enough, this was probably the closest thing to a date the two of them had been on since "getting together." Candlelit dinners, flowers, and romantic strolls in the park had taken a backseat to saving all of time and space from a nigh-omnipotent teenager's mental breakdown.
Not that any of the above were likely to be part of her relationship with Kyoko. Came with the territory of falling in love with an idiot.
"We're getting close to that, uh…pizza parlor I was telling you about before," said the blue-haired girl, glancing around briefly as they turned onto a residential street. No sign of any Familiars, but that didn't necessarily mean they weren't hiding out of sight. "You know what you're gonna order?"
"Pffft, have ya met me?" asked Kyoko, waving her hand dismissively. "Pile it high with every kinda meat on the planet. An' then double it. An' then add some extra cheese, mushrooms, green peppers, red peppers, onions, black olives, spinach, basil…"
"Okay, I've lost the metaphor at this point," Sayaka leaned over and whispered into her ear. "What are you trying to say now?"
Kyoko shrugged her shoulders and replied, "No metaphor, I'm jus' hungry."
Sayaka let out a low sigh, but couldn't help but grin a bit. Such an idiot. Not that she really had any room to talk.
Regardless, if they did have a tail right now then the masquerade was officially going to be broken once they reached their destination. There was no non-suspicious reason to visit the dwelling they were slowly approaching.
Finally, their movements becoming more trepidatious with each step, Sayaka and Kyoko arrived before the last place they wanted to be right now.
Looming over them, blanketing them with its long shadow beneath the early morning sun, was the home of Homura Akemi.
That was the advantage of remembering all the previous timelines. Homura hadn't always been so guarded and secretive. In those first few iterations, she'd wanted to become true friends with all of them, not just Madoka. And so, in at least one…
The timid, glasses-wearing girl had shown them her home base.
There was no guarantee, of course, that she'd kept the same one all the way to the present day, but Sayaka was ninety-ish percent certain that she would. Despite everything, Homura was ultimately a creature of habit. She'd lived the same days so many times over that, apart from the things she intentionally changed to try and effect a different outcome, it was easy for her to slip into the same patterns from one time flow to the next.
Look at how, gifted with the power to reshape the universe in any way she desired, the Devil had chosen a world that was…largely unchanged. Tweaking it only just slightly, to make it the ideal paradise for Madoka Kaname.
It was that, above all else, that gave Sayaka hope. Homura might consider herself to have committed crimes beyond countenance – becoming the ultimate evil to oppose Madoka's pure, unvarnished good. But her actions simply didn't bear that out.
To be sure, she was still incredibly dangerous. Every moment that the Law of Cycles remained split in two was a moment the universe risked annihilation.
But that didn't mean the architect of this new world was beyond salvation. Madoka would never believe that. And so, if Sayaka truly wanted to call herself the goddess' Messenger…
Then neither could she.
"We're gonna have to go in. Only place we haven't checked," she said.
"This place is sure to be crawlin' with…uh…what were we callin' 'em, again? Cockroaches, or whatever," Kyoko pointed out. "Even if by some miracle they don't alert her the second we walk in, we're sure ta have a fight on our hands."
"I've thought of that. And I think I have an idea," Sayaka answered cryptically. She didn't dare say more when they were out in the open like this – much less at their enemy's literal threshold. "Can you trust me?"
Kyoko's brow furrowed tightly. "Ya know I do," she murmured. "Alright, girl. Pizza delivery time."
[-]
By the time they arrived at homeroom, Madoka had made a conscious decision to push the events on the bus out of her mind.
She took her usual seat near Hitomi. The green-haired girl, mercifully, seemed to have recovered from her sapphic-induced stupor by that point.
"I know I did not react in the…most ideal sense. But I am truly happy for you all. Imagine – all six of us getting to go on group dates!" she said as soon as Madoka and Homura sat down. "I wish I could say the same to Sayaka-chan, but I haven't seen her."
From the look on her girlfriend's face, Madoka was fairly certain of her opinion on the green-haired girl's suggestion. But she held her tongue regardless.
"Usually if Sayaka-chan is sick or something, she emails me. But I haven't gotten any replies from her since last night," Madoka told her other friend with a frown. "I just hope everything is okay."
"I'm not too worried. She's a strong girl. And Sakura-san is clearly good for her," added Kyosuke. "I could tell something was eating at her, ever since I got discharged. But she's been in a much better mood lately. If there's one thing I know, it's when one of my friends is in love."
Madoka, Homura, and Hitomi shared a brief glance, and she could tell this was one of those very rare occasions where all three of them were on the same wavelength…
How in the world does this boy function?
Regardless, their conversation was cut off by the arrival of their teacher.
Kazuko Saotome looked remarkably frazzled, and snapped angrily at poor Nakazawa-kun when he innocently wished her a good morning. Which indicated that her date last night had gone about as well as the last couple.
(But then, given that this guy had been the last one's brother, maybe that wasn't such a surprise.)
"Alright-class-stand-and-bow-except-you-Kamijou-san-you-are-medically-exempt," she said, all in one breath. "Now, onto learning! Yes…sweet, sweet learning! After all, education will never take one look at you and say, 'Man, aniki told me you were on the older side, but he didn't mention the wrinkles between your eyes. Say, I work for a company that can clear that right up! All you have to do is invest a hundred-thousand yen in our patented face cream, and then not only will you get the product, you'll be licensed to sell it yourself! Then you just have to license ten more people, and…'"
At this point, she snapped her lecture pointer in two.
"Well, ahem…" the teacher coughed, taking in several deep breaths to calm herself down. "Now that that's out of the way, I'd like to introduce you all to a new transfer student!"
That resulted in a lot of whispered chattering. They hadn't gotten a new student in their class since Madoka herself, and that'd already been quite late in the term. Her mother had tried to time her transfer from the American branch of Frontier Settings to coincide with the beginning of a new school year, but she was a high enough level executive now that the Japanese branch simply hadn't been able to wait a few months.
"She probably should have led with that?" Kyosuke contributed his part to the murmurs, just as the transfer student in question walked into the room.
And just as Homura shot bolt upright in her seat.
"You're probably thinking she's a bit young for a middle school classroom. But I assure you, her transcripts make it clear all her skipped grades were warranted," said Saotome-sensei. "Allow me to introduce…"
A very short girl, with long white hair and the tiniest Mitakihara Middle School uniform Madoka had ever seen, bowed low.
"My name is Nagisa Momoe," she announced. "It's very nice to meet all of you."
[-]
When you were as experienced in folding space as a Messenger for the Law of Cycles, things like walls and doors were really more "suggestions" than hard and fast rules.
Of course, they still had to be wary. This apartment was no longer a purely physical space, but the center of a Labyrinth that spanned across the entire universe. Getting through its barriers required very careful modulation of their mana.
"Ain't tripped any alarms yet. At leas' none that we can see," said Kyoko. 'Course, by sayin' that I probably jus' jinxed us."
"Maybe…" Sayaka muttered in response. "Or maybe she isn't able to respond right now. She could've gotten distracted by something."
"What could possibly be more important than watchin' over her own Evil Lair?" asked the redhead pointedly. "Well…besides havin' a snack o' some very pink fish?"
"Ugh! Assuming that means what I think it means," Sayaka gave her usual reaction to her roommate's innuendo. "If you're gonna join me up there once this is all over, you'd better watch your tongue around the boss."
Kyoko let out a snort. "Yeah, cuz I'm real scared o' her comin' down hard," she said. "What's she do when someone steps outta line – give 'em a cookie?"
"You're, uh…not completely wrong," the blue-haired girl was forced to admit. "But can it already. We need to focus right now."
It was a timely reminder, because if Kyoko hadn't caught her footing in that moment, she would've stumbled over a staircase she couldn't actually see.
That was the strangest thing about this building. Everything seemed to exist in two layers: the relatively ordinary apartment it'd once been, and the surreal semi-Labyrinth that Homura's magic had gradually turned it into. If Sayaka squinted hard, she could sort of distinguish one from the other, but mostly they seemed to blend together into a single, phantasmagoric mess.
Perhaps the most striking thing about this place, however, was how…empty it seemed. On all sides, the only sight that greeted them at first glance was a blank expanse of white.
"Where's all the clock stuff? Wasn't that kinda like…her thing?" asked Kyoko as they descended the invisible stairs. "I remember all these gears everywhere, an' a swingin' pendulum…"
"It's a reflection of her mind, I think," Sayaka responded with a frown. "She used to think of herself as a master of time. Now she's terrified of it. Every tick of the clock brings her closer to the moment it all comes crashing down."
"But now that she knows she can still go back…" said Kyoko. "D'you think she's ever gonna stop? Or will she go back ta loopin' endlessly? Tryin' ta squeeze a few more days o' happiness outta this world?"
"That…is a really good question," Sayaka breathed out. "Best we don't give her the chance. C'mon, let's keep going."
As they delved deeper into this strange void in space, every second brought with it the all-but-certain dread that Homura's minions would find and catch them. But so far, they hadn't caught sight of a single Clara Doll.
Perhaps, contrary to their expectations, Homura actually didn't keep any Familiars with her in the place she rested. Or perhaps this wasn't even the place she went to rest at all.
After all, she was no longer a Magical Girl, but a Devil. Her ability to manipulate the fabric of space was unparalleled. There was no guarantee she even existed on the physical plane, outside of the time they spent together at school. And that was mostly just for the sake of keeping an eye on Madoka.
"Okay…if they were gonna catch us here, they would've already," Sayaka finally said. "I think we're safe to transform."
Both girls held up their palms, their contract rings changing form until they each held a bright, egglike jewel. With flashes of blue and red, their Magical Girl uniforms popped into being.
Sayaka's eyes remained on her Soul Gem, however, even as it took the form of a crescent moon across her bellybutton. The light within it was pulsing, dimly but steadily.
"Another Magical Girl is close," she added to her roommate. "It's gotta be her."
"Don't count your Cuccos before they swarm," Kyoko advised. "This city's practically crawlin' with Unawakened girlies. We want it ta be Mami, but…"
"Who else would she bring right into the heart of her own home?" replied Sayaka, though internally she was forced to admit Kyoko had a point.
Still, they had to hold onto hope. It was what their goddess stood for, after all.
"Fuckity fuck fuckstick," Kyoko suddenly swore, as she bumped her knee audibly on another piece of furniture they couldn't see. "I'm really gettin' sick an' tired o' not knowin' where I'm goin'!"
Sayaka squinted, trying to make out the physical room that existed beneath all the illusions. It seemed to be some kind of bedroom, small and sparsely decorated, apart from the object her girlfriend had just tripped over. Some kind of half-sized bookshelf, loaded end to end with…
"Manga?" said Kyoko with a snicker. "Knew she was a nerd. Why read when ya can jus' watch the anime?"
"Cuz sometimes the anime cuts out some of the manga's best parts. And not everyone can wait that long," Sayaka answered, unable to believe she was having this conversation here, of all places. "But wait, hold up…"
Something about the lineup of titles was…nagging at her, somehow. She picked up an old volume of Attack on Titan, which had a piece of paper sticking out of the middle. Without thinking, she opened to the marked page.
"Oh shit, I love this part," stated Kyoko, leaning over her shoulder. "Proves my point, though. Ain't got half the impact withou' Zero Eclipse playin' in the backgroun'."
Still, Sayaka watched her mouthing along with the words on the page.
"Krista…live a life you can be proud of."
"I guess Homura being into tragic doomed yuri romance is like…the least surprising news ever, honestly," remarked Sayaka. "Still, I just can't shake the feeling like we're missing something here."
"Well then, good thing we got unlimited time ta browse through Devil Girl's private smut stash," Kyoko said, raising an eyebrow at a lone, dog-eared volume of Mnemosyne. "Oh wait, no. The opposite o' that! Geez, can't believe I'm the one tryin' ta keep us on track."
Sayaka sighed audibly and put the book back on the shelf, taking care to replace the bookmark exactly as she found it. This had to be a record for the number of times in a day Kyoko was right about something – not that she'd ever give her the satisfaction of admitting it.
"It's hard to tell, with how same-y this place looks when you're not paying real close attention," she told the other girl. "But I think we've searched almost the whole apartment. Only that room left."
She pointed to a door she could just barely make out amidst the void.
"Then lead the way, my knight-in-midriff-bearin'-armor," said Kyoko with a wink, causing her roommate to flush.
"Hey, I didn't pick my costume! Well…not consciously, anyway," she exclaimed heatedly. "Besides, you can only see a bit of…"
But her voice stopped cold as she pulled open the half-visible door, and saw the figure sitting on the couch on the other side of it.
"Oh, hello girls," spoke Mami Tomoe, her voice pleasant but rather vacant. "Would you like to join me for a tea party?"
[-]
Unless it was very much her imagination, Homura had been staring at that Nagisa girl for literally the entire homeroom period.
Of course, the only reason Madoka could know that was if she, in turn, had been staring at Homura for that same amount of time. But that was neither here nor there.
Regardless, it was clear the white-haired girl had captured her girlfriend's full attention. While she never said anything to her, Homura watched over Nagisa like a hawk, barely even seeming to blink.
If it wasn't for the fact that the girl couldn't have been older than ten or so, Madoka wondered if she might've felt jealous. It would be the first time she'd ever experienced that particular emotion…but then again, this was also her first time having a relationship to be jealous of.
Since class was going on and she couldn't just ask her girlfriend, Madoka was forced to speculate as to her motives. Did Homura know this girl from somewhere? She knew so little about the raven-haired teen's life from before the previous month, so it was entirely possible.
Still, the look on Homura's face was somewhat…disconcerting. She wasn't looking at the young girl like a classmate or potential friend – more like a bomb that was liable to go off at any moment.
Nagisa herself showed no signs that she even realized she was being watched. She sat quietly in the front row, scrawling untidy notes on a spiral notebook; her lack of a laptop or tablet made her stand out rather starkly from the rest of the class (apart from poor Anzu-chan).
Once both homeroom and first-period English were over with, the class had a fifteen-minute break before Miyamoto-sensei arrived for history class. The moment the bell rang and Saotome-sensei shuffled her way out, Homura had already crossed the length of the classroom, seemingly in the blink of an eye.
"Let me be the first to formally welcome you to Mitakihara Middle School," she said in clipped tones. "My name is Homura Akemi. You really must allow me to show you around later. This school's layout can be quite confusing for a first-timer."
Nagisa tilted her head upward without getting out of her seat, a pleasant smile spreading over her features.
"That's so nice of you to offer, Akemi-san! But it's okay. I have a friend who's like a big sister who goes here. She should be able to help me get around," was her cheery reply. "Say, do you know a girl named Sayaka Miki?"
Madoka let out a small gasp at the mention of her friend's name…but it was nothing compared with the shift that came over Homura's expression. She leaned in closer, whispering something that was too quiet for the pink-haired girl to make out, beyond the fairly harsh tone.
But whatever Homura had just said to her, Nagisa simply giggled in response.
"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about," she told the older girl. "But you're funny! I think we're gonna be really good friends, too."
Homura's whole body stiffened at these words. Ultimately, she said nothing else to the transfer student, slinking back to an empty desk beside Madoka's.
"It's okay if it's none of my business, but…" said Madoka, biting her lip. "Do you know that girl?"
"We are…acquainted. At least in a manner of speaking," answered her girlfriend, visibly hesitating before adding the next part. "Madoka, this may sound strange, but please promise me something. That you won't go anywhere alone with Nagisa Momoe."
A frown fell over Madoka's face. "You make it sound like she's dangerous," she muttered, casting a glance toward the younger girl. She'd flipped to a blank page in her notebook and seemed to be casually doodling something.
"I'll admit this sounds paranoid. But please, just indulge me for now," Homura spoke, her voice taking on that toneless, detached quality.
Madoka nodded dimly. "Okay…if you feel that strongly," she eventually said. "But listen, Homura-chan. There's, umm…something I've been trying to tell you all day, but other stuff keeps getting in the way…"
Homura cut her off with a gentle but firm hand across the shoulder.
"Please…not today. I can tell this is serious, and I will talk it over with you. But I've got too many other things on my mind right now," she told the pink-haired girl. "Just give me a little more time."
On the face of things, it was a reasonable request. Homura was insular at the best of times, and it wasn't fair to push her to discuss her feelings before she was ready.
Besides, this obviously wasn't the right time to have this kind of discussion. Even though none of their classmates were paying attention to them, occupied with idle chitchat and trips to the bathroom or vending machine, this was still far too public a place to pour her heart out.
And yet…
"That's really the problem though, isn't it?" Madoka was unable to stop herself from asking, her words coming out in hushed, insistent whispers. "You always seem to have too much on your mind. Too many secrets, too many lies. You try to pretend like everything is fine, like you can handle it all alone, but…you don't have to, okay? Not anymore. I'm here now. I'll always be here."
Homura didn't offer a reply for several seconds, gazing upon the rose-haired girl with entirely unreadable eyes.
Finally, however, all she said was, "I know I've been worrying you. I'm truly sorry about that. But…one more day. That's all I'm asking. As soon as the sun rises tomorrow, we'll talk about everything."
Madoka nodded again, very slowly. She could give her girlfriend that much.
It wasn't like the world was going to end tonight.
[-]
This was quite possibly the most surreal experience Sayaka had ever been a part of, and she'd once regularly done battle with living archways and schoolgirl skirts.
The girl who'd once been her mentor, in times long gone by, had pulled out a tea kettle as if from nowhere and was now brewing them a heavenly-smelling blend – even though there was no stove or fire visible nearby. She and Kyoko were seated across from the blonde, shifting uncomfortably in chairs that seemed to float amidst a void of pure white.
"I've never had guests before. Or at least, I don't remember having any," Mami said airily. "I'm afraid there's still so much I've forgotten. At least I still know how to make tea."
To demonstrate, she expertly poured the steaming liquid into a pair of porcelain cups. Somewhat troublingly, they both seemed to be marked specifically for them: one sky-blue and decorated with music notes, and one emblazoned with a crimson cross.
Sayaka shared a brief glance with her roommate, wondering whether they should drink. With Mami's mental state a complete unknown, could they really trust anything she gave them?
But Mami settled the issue by offering a plate of cookies to go alongside the tea, which Kyoko immediately and instinctively wolfed down. After waiting a few seconds and seeing nothing happen to the redhead, Sayaka shrugged her shoulders and took a sip.
And instantly remembered just how much she missed Mami's teamaking skills.
"So how long have ya been…like this?" asked Kyoko, after draining her own cup in a single gulp. "Y'know…not all brain-whammied?"
Mami frowned. "I'm not…quite sure, to be honest with you," she responded. "For the longest time, the only thing I could perceive was…darkness. Oppressive, suffocating. And suddenly, one day – I don't know how to describe it. Like a fog was lifting. There's still so much of it, but…less now, I think."
She finished off her cup, which bore a pattern of golden interlocking spirals, and set it daintily upon the table between them.
"The girl who lives here…I'm sorry, I keep forgetting her name," she went on. "But she…she's been teaching me things. How to speak, how to read, how to dress myself. It's embarrassing to say, but until very recently my mental faculties were akin to those of a newborn."
"You're talking about a girl with long black hair, right?" said Sayaka. "Looks about our age?"
"Yes! I knew her once, I can tell that much. Just as I can tell with you two," Mami declared. "The more she teaches me, the easier the rest seems to come. Like I'm not learning it for the first time, but just…unlocking the parts of my brain I couldn't access. Muscle memory, you could say."
"Ya definitely seem ta have come a long way from the las' time we met," Kyoko told her. "Don't s'ppose ya remember how this happened ta ya in the firs' place?"
But the blonde girl just slowly shook her head.
"I don't even know who I am, if I'm being perfectly honest. She tells me sometimes, but I forget again. That happens a lot, if I don't practice at it," she admitted. "You called me…'mommy,' earlier? I don't think I'm old enough to be your mother, but…it's hard to trust my own perceptions right now…"
"No, uh…that's your name. Ma-mi," said Sayaka, sounding it out slowly. "It's written with the characters for…well, actually, I think I've only seen it in katakana. Anyway, your family name is Tomoe. Does that mean anything to you?"
"I…I think so," whispered Mami, clutching at her temple. "I can feel it, just on the edge of my mind. But it's…hard to grasp. Like trying to catch water with my bare hands."
Suddenly, the blonde keeled over, gripping at her knees and letting out a high-pitched keening sound. Kyoko got to her first, throwing her arms around her former senpai.
"S'okay. Ya don't hafta push yerself," she muttered soothingly. The contrast from her typical brash demeanor couldn't have been starker.
"Let's change subjects, then," Sayaka let out a sigh. "That girl with the black hair…how often does she come back here?"
"Oh, a few times a day. At least I think so," answered Mami, almost automatically. "It's hard to tell how much time passes here. There aren't any clocks around for me to check…and I'm not sure I'd be able to read them even if there were."
"Then we have to hurry. No telling when she might check back in," Sayaka added in a hushed aside to her roommate, once she returned to her seat. "Ahem…Mami-san, this has been really fun, but could you wait here while we look around a little bit?"
"Oh, I'm sure my hostess wouldn't mind!" the older girl said brightly. "It sounds like we were all good friends back before all this happened."
"Well, that's the plan…" Sayaka breathed out, leaping to her feet and gesturing for Kyoko to join her.
"Cuz o' the time loop, she coulda only been workin' on her mind fer three days at mos'. An' we know she spent mosta that time with Kaname," murmured the redhead, as soon as they were out of earshot. "Shit don't add up."
"I'm starting to think she took a shortcut," replied Sayaka. "Can you sense it? There's another room nearby…one we couldn't feel until we were right on top of it. Literally."
She stopped cold, and tapped her foot upon a seemingly random part of the illusory abyss. The sound of something hollow greeted their ears.
"A hidden trapdoor? Geez, can she get any more cliched?" said Kyoko.
Nevertheless, Sayaka got down on her hands and knees and felt amidst the white emptiness, until her hands seized around what felt like an invisible handle. With a great burst of effort, she heaved it open.
"Didn't even use magic to seal it. She must've been really confident nobody else would get in here," she remarked, before descending straight into the darkness below.
Kyoko followed soon after. Amidst the black expanse, both of their Soul Gems burst to life, lighting up the hidden chamber in the soft glow of blue and red.
"Jesus Fuckin' Christ!"
That was the redhead's immediate, visceral reaction to the sight that greeted them. Sayaka was tempted to shout something very similarly, but only narrowly managed to hold her tongue.
After all, this room was lined wall-to-wall with girls' corpses.
Once Sayaka got over her initial shock, however, she began to realize a few things about the bodies slumped before her. Each of them was immaculately preserved, giving off no foul odors or signs of decay. Indeed, if it weren't for their wide-eyed, glassy stares, it would've been easy to mistake them for sleeping.
"They're Magical Girls…" the blue-haired girl realized aloud. "She took their Soul Gems somewhere and left their bodies here. But why aren't they decomposing?"
"Th…There…" said a still-terrified Kyoko, pointing a shaking finger across the room.
She'd missed it initially, hidden by the glow of their own Soul Gems, but there was indeed a floating spark of violet light in the center of the chamber. It must've been a cast-off piece of Homura's magic, used to keep these bodies fresh.
Steeling herself, Sayaka began examining the girls one-by-one. A few of them she didn't recognize, but most she did.
Sasa Yuki. Oriko Mikuni. Kirika Kure. Alina Gray. Suzune Amano. Umika Misaki. Satomi Usagi. Matsuri Hinata. Kagari Hinata. Tsubaki Mikoto. Mitama Yakumo.
"G…Guess this explains where all the missin' girls have been," stammered her roommate. "Now, can we get outta here? Givin' me the creeps…"
"Hold on," said Sayaka, raising a hand as she examined the still forms of Suzune, Umika, and Kagari. "Sasa's whole plan revolved around assembling girls with memory-changing magic. I think our favorite part-time devil took advantage of that. Siphoning their magic to help jumpstart Mami-senpai's recovery."
"Congratulations, yer a regular ace attorney!" Kyoko clapped her hands together. "Mystery solved, time ta make like a tree an' run the fuck away."
But Sayaka shook her head. "Not without Mami," she stated insistently. "Homura means well, at least by her standards. But this is wrong, and Mami-senpai wouldn't want it. We can finish restoring her memory once Walpurgisnacht is dealt with."
"Always gotta be the paladin," groaned the redhead, her tone sounding like she was torn halfway between admiration and exasperation. "What if she don't wanna come with us, though? She's kinda spacey an' naïve righ' now, but she's still Mami. Push her the wrong way an' she can get…dangerous."
"Let me worry about that," said Sayaka, sounding more confident than she felt. "I just need to tell her some stuff Homura's been leaving out of their lessons."
[-]
The rest of the morning passed without too much incident. Homura continued to steal anxious glances in the new girl's direction throughout history and into math, but didn't say anything further on the subject.
Sayaka and Kyoko, in turn, didn't show up for any of their morning classes either. This wasn't entirely out of character for the redhead, but it was very unusual for the girl she was rooming with. Madoka couldn't remember her straight-laced, rule-abiding best friend ever missing out on a day of school, apart from serious illness.
Then again, she'd just learned that her two friends were secretly in a relationship with one another. Madoka knew from experience that when she'd first started going out with Homura, the temptation to skip out on class, chores, and generally all other cares or responsibilities in the world and just make out with her girlfriend from dawn to dusk had been an alluring one.
A quick blush of pink flashed across her cheeks, but vanished a second later. A week ago, to even consider such a thought would've left her a pathetic mess. And of course, it wasn't one she was at all likely to act upon.
Still, it just went to show how much being in a relationship had affected her. Was still affecting her. So long as she was at Homura's side, the nasty voice in her brain that told her she was weak and useless and couldn't do anything right…
Well it never went away, exactly. But it quieted down a fair bit.
More than anything else, Madoka just wanted to repay her girlfriend in kind.
"I know we both packed lunches from my aunties…" she said, walking up to Homura's desk once the bell for lunch period rang out. "But would you mind if I treated you in the cafeteria for dessert? I hear they've got brownies today, and I know those are your favorite."
Madoka blinked. Where had that thought come from?
She paid close attention to every interaction she and Homura shared – very close attention, even before she'd realized she had a crush – and she couldn't recall ever learning anything about Homura's tastes in desserts.
Yet she was absolutely certain that Homura had an acute fondness for all things chocolate, and that brownies topped the list. Hazy images flashed through her mind.
Madoka stood over the counter in her own kitchen, wearing a frilly pink apron her father had gifted her last Christmas. She stirred a big wooden spoon through the dark brown mixture, humming along to the jaunty ClariS tune playing on the radio.
Standing next to her, greasing up a cooking pan with oil, was Homura. Except she didn't look like the Homura she knew at all.
Her hair was the same long, silky black, but tied into a pair of pigtails that ran down to her waist. She was also wearing a pair of thick, oversized red glasses. But her expression was the biggest difference by far.
She looked…timid. Shy and incredibly nervous, like she might bolt away at any moment.
"K…K…Kaname-san," she said. Her voice was equally out-of-character, so hesitant and meek. It was also unusual to hear her speak so formally – hadn't she insisted on using each other's first names on the very day they met? "Do you…really think there's time to…"
Madoka cut her off with a quick shake of the head. "We can't do anything now but wait for nightfall. We've prepared everything we can," she told the other girl. "Might as well spend this time having fun!"
Homura's cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she brought over the pan.
"I just…if only the others were still here…" she mumbled. "They would love this so much…"
That was when Madoka took her by surprise by pulling her into a tight hug. The color in Homura's face increased about a thousand degrees in intensity.
"I know. I miss them too," said the pink-haired girl in tight whispers. "But we owe it to our friends to finish the fight. If we work together, there's nothing we can't do. Even this brownie recipe, which papa never really got quite right."
The bespectacled girl's mouth twitched, just for a second.
"Do you…really believe that?" she asked quietly.
Madoka didn't answer for a few moments, concentrating on spooning the mixture into the pan so that it was spread evenly.
Eventually, however, she replied back, "I have to. That's what it means to have hope. It doesn't mean being blind to the chance that we might fail. It means choosing to believe we won't. No matter how hard that choice might be."
Homura blinked away tears from behind her glasses.
"Then I'll make that choice with you, Kaname-san," she said, steeling her face with resolve. "And this time, it'll be different. This time, we'll bring an end to…"
"Apologies, Madoka, but I have something to deal with during this lunch period."
The abruptness of the shift left the pink-haired girl momentarily disoriented. One second that strange, pigtailed version of Homura had been speaking, and the next she was replaced by the Homura she knew. The same voice, but as different as night and day in tone.
What'd she just seen? A daydream? A hallucination? But for a second, it'd felt so real…
"Uh…umm…" Madoka fumbled for words. "Sorry, what was that?"
"You should go ahead and have lunch with Hitomi Shizuki and Kyosuke Kamijou," said Homura. "I'll catch up as soon as I can."
Madoka nodded dimly. She wouldn't have been able to argue even if she wanted to, with her head feeling like this…
She didn't even notice that when Homura got out of her seat and left the classroom, she was following right on the heels of a girl with white hair and heterochromatic eyes.
[-]
It took Homura all of five seconds to catch up with Nagisa Momoe, if only by virtue of her much longer legs.
As soon as she did, she grasped the younger girl firmly by the shoulder and pulled her into the nearest empty classroom, locking the door behind them.
"This is really quite rude, you know," squeaked Nagisa, trying to wrest herself from Homura's grip. "I never would've taken you for a bully, Akemi-s…"
"Shut up. I'm in no mood to play games," Homura said sharply, cutting her off. "You've already forced me to break my vow not to leave Madoka's side today. So…tell me how much you remember. And if the same thing applies to Sayaka Miki. I never thought to test if direct connection to the Law of Cycles makes one immune to the effects of time loops."
Nagisa finally succeeded in escaping from the black-haired girl's grasp, but didn't bother running away. Instead she held up her left hand, letting the white glow of her ring overtake her whole body, until she transformed into her Magical Girl form.
"Since you've already guessed that much, I won't bother pretending. Yes, I still have all my memories from my time as a Messenger. As well as from the time flow you negated to create this one," she explained. "As for Miki-senpai, I wouldn't be able to tell you. I haven't seen her since time reversed."
Homura watched the younger girl, wondering whether she dared believe her words.
Ultimately, she decided to change the subject. "If you've been in full possession of your mental faculties this whole time, then surely you've also spent the past three days preparing for Walpurgisnacht," she declared. "What have you learned?"
"You're willing to listen. Good. That saves us some time," said Nagisa. "I have an idea for how you can avoid summoning Walpurgisnacht this time around. But you'll have to trust me."
"I've already told you. I won't let you reawaken Madoka," Homura immediately snapped. "I'll sooner loop us back again. And again and again and again, if I have to. Whatever it takes to preserve what I've built for her here. To preserve her happiness."
"And yet you're planning to break her heart once you succeed," the younger girl stated coolly.
That managed to stop Homura in her tracks. She glared at the Messenger, mouth agape, as if daring her to continue.
And so, she did. "I've been watching you for days. I can tell you're just going through the motions, playacting at being her girlfriend," Nagisa added, her expression dead-serious. There was no trace of the goofy little girl who just wanted to eat cheese. "It's not fair to her. And it's not fair to you. Didn't you hear what I told you 'last' time we faced off?"
"I heard it, I just didn't believe it," Homura hissed dismissively. "You're saying the Law of Cycles was in love with me? The wicked, wretched girl who pulled her from Heaven, and perverted her sacrifice? How stupid do you think I am? I know you'll do or say anything if it means restoring Madoka to that miserable state."
Nagisa let out a little, humorless chuckle.
"If I was just telling you what you wanted to hear, I'd say exactly that. That you're a horrible, disgusting demon who doesn't deserve love or happiness. Because you've sunk so far into your own despair that you can't conceive of anything else," she said. "When the truth is a lot more complicated. You've done a lot of good, and a lot of bad. Kaname-san was able to see all your faults, and all your sins. And she accepted it all. When she chose to love you."
Homura stood ramrod still for several moments. Then, in movements so fast they couldn't be witnessed even by magically enhanced eyes, she surged forward and took hold of the small jewel hanging from the girl's waist.
"Move a centimeter and I crush it to dust," she warned the younger girl. "Now, I don't have time to argue with your insipid delusions. So you'll sit there, and you'll listen."
Her mouth tightened into a flat line as she went on, "I have accepted what I am. Every God needs a Devil, to work against them. For what is faith if it isn't tested? You may consider yourself her servant, but I am what she truly needs. An enemy, to overcome. An enemy, to destroy."
"She would never do that," spoke Nagisa, her determination not waning one iota from having her Soul Gem held hostage. "And you know it."
"Perhaps not," said Homura, nodding mutedly. "But then that's just one more duty to fall upon my head. The Devil will dispose of herself, so that the Goddess may keep her hands clean. So that, for the first time…the Goddess can truly be happy."
She didn't give Nagisa the chance to reply. With a flurry of wings she was in her pocket dimension once more. She approached the guillotine and unearthed the chest buried beneath, barely sparing a glance to the dozens of Magical Girls held within as she added one more to the collection.
Someday, Madoka would be able to restore them. In her infinite mercy, even girls as vile as Sasa Yuki and Alina Gray would be given second chances.
Homura would keep them safe and healthy until then. The warden of Hell, who would yield to the forces of Heaven in due time.
But that time had not yet come. She still had to shepherd her over one final mountain, first. She still had to grant her the gift of a full, complete life, unburdened by the chains of Witches and magic.
She wouldn't join the girl she loved in the Promised Land she was laying out for her, but that was okay. Once she was no longer weighed down by the monster currently manipulating her thoughts and emotions, Madoka would finally have the one thing she'd been denied since that very first time flow…
Freedom.
Another sweep of her wings had her in that empty classroom again, scooping up Nagisa Momoe's unmoving body in her claws like an enormous bird of prey. She didn't stay there long, however, as she quickly teleported again, emerging into her apartment's hidden basement.
As the queen of darkness, she had no trouble seeing in the pitch-black, depositing Nagisa against the wall with great care. She placed her next to Matsuri Hinata, fairly certain that the two would get along swimmingly were they conscious.
"It's all so strange," she said to herself, once she was satisfied with the pose. "She's not an unintelligent girl. She must have realized that all that hinting around would attract my attention. Almost as if she was…goading me."
Her eyes suddenly snapped wide open, the rainbow colors of corruption dancing at their edges.
"Almost as if…she was trying to…" she whispered, before bolting back up to her pseudo-living room in a panic.
A room that was completely empty, save for three partially finished cups of tea.
[-]
At the same time, Madoka sat in the middle of the cafeteria, eating quietly alone.
Kyosuke, it turned out, had forgotten his violin at home, which he would need for a recital immediately after school. The only time they had to collect it was during lunch, so Hitomi and her chauffeur (yes, of course she had a chauffeur) had offered to help him retrieve it.
Which left Madoka without any other options, for the most part. All she could really do was sit down, dig into her fried rice, and marvel at how a boy who seemed to treat his violin like a firstborn child could possibly leave it behind.
With no word still from Sayaka or Kyoko – emails and texts to both had gone unanswered all morning – her only hope for companionship was that Homura would finish her urgent business as soon as possible. Whatever that was. The raven-haired girl hadn't explained anything before darting out of the room.
The pink-haired girl let out a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan. Why was it so hard to do something as simple as be there for her girlfriend?
She spent a few minutes stewing in that not-entirely-pleasant thought before something arrived to burst through her reverie. Or rather…five somethings.
"Hello. Is this seat taken?" asked an incredibly sweet voice.
Madoka looked up slowly to see a group of five other girls gathered around the other side of the table. Some looked about her age, while one looked a bit younger and one several years older.
The one who'd spoken, however, was the one whose face most immediately captured Madoka's eye. Mostly because of how uncannily similar it was to her own.
"My name is Iroha Tamaki," she said, in tones that somehow seemed distantly familiar, even though Madoka knew she had never met this girl before. "And we'd love to join you for lunch, if that's okay."
[-]
COUNTDOWN TO WALPURGIS NIGHT
Seven Hours Remain