There was a terrible noise, like an earthquake, or a building collapsing, and Hitomi awoke.
She was in bed. She wasn't quite sure if she was awake, or dreaming, or maybe even just remembering, but her heart was beating rapidly. Had she just awoken from a nightmare? Where was she? This wasn't her bed...
A lighter noise, a gentle padding of feet, caught her attention, and she turned her head to its source. Madoka was treading lightly, wearing her pajamas and bunny slippers. She'd been outside. It must have been the noise of the door that had woken her, the solid double-click of a hotel lock.
That's right, it was a sleepover ... of sorts. Except with a little more high speed rail, and more Tokyo, and performances of Coppelia.
"... Madoka?" asked Hitomi.
"Ssh!" said Madoka, placing a finger to her lips. "I have a surprise."
"... Huh?" asked Hitomi, yawning. "Isn't it a little late for surprises?" She glanced over to the alarm clock, red seven-segment LEDs beside the bed, but it was blinking midnight.
"I know. May I show you anyway?" asked Madoka.
"... Okay," said Hitomi, sitting up. "What's the surprise?"
"Close your eyes," said Madoka.
"... Okay, sure," said Hitomi.
"And keep them closed," said Madoka. "Don't peek, okay?"
Hitomi nodded.
She heard Madoka come close, felt her sit down on the bed, and reach behind her; she felt something on her face.
"... Madoka, what?"
"Blindfold," said Madoka. "Don't peek."
"Okay," said Hitomi. She was skeptical, honestly. But I suppose after all I asked her to do this afternoon, it's only fair.
"Now stand up," instructed Madoka. "Put on your slippers, they're right here."
"... What? We're not going somewhere, are we?" asked Hitomi.
"Mmm-hmm!" affirmed Madoka, "You only have to play along if you want to, but trust me, it'll be worth it, okay?"
"... but I'm in my nightgown," objected Hitomi. The school uniform, or the evening gowns, wouldn't those be better?
"It's okay, no one will see. Come on," said Madoka, taking her hand, as Hitomi felt the warmth. "You've done so much for me already. Let me have a turn. Trust me, okay?"
Hitomi found her heart fluttering. What was it that Homura had said? Something about the importance of transgression? Heading outside in one's nightgown certainly was, a little, but there was something more than that here. Obedience? Trust? Surrender?
"All right," said Hitomi. "As the lady Madoka commands."
Madoka giggled. "Perfect!"
. . . . .
They had gone down a hallway, and down an elevator, then into a stairwell, and out a door to outside. The night was warm and pleasant, but Hitomi was nervous. Excited, but nervous. Her heart fluttered.
"Watch the curb," said Madoka. "Hold on... Okay, it's safe to cross."
"M-Madoka, we - we shouldn't really be outside in our pajamas," insisted Hitomi.
"It's okay. Nobody's seen us. I promise," replied Madoka. "But we can turn back if you want to."
Hitomi was a little disoriented. It was a strange city, and she couldn't see where she was going, and the only place she really knew the way to get to was the theater, where they'd seen the ballet before. It half seemed like they might be going that way, and it half seemed like she was totally lost.
Madoka led her through what must have been a loading dock of some sort, with an electric hum, a bit of an echo, and a funny orange light that she could make out at the edges of the blindfold. Beyond it, a dimly lit hallway. Finally, they stopped.
"Okay, in here. Go on ahead slowly," said Madoka.
Hitomi stepped in, and Madoka let go of her hand, and the door creaked closed behind her.
"... Madoka?"
"Okay, you can take off the blindfold now," said Madoka. Was she on the other side of the door?
Hitomi tugged at it a bit; it came off easily enough and she looked around. It was a small room, with a large mirror, and lights around the mirror. On the floor were ballet shoes, and on a stand in the corner was a costume.
"... Madoka, what is this?"
"Dressing room, silly!" said Madoka, with a giggle.
"Dressing room?"
"For the ballet!"
"... But how? Why?"
"Put it on," said Madoka. "I promise it will be okay."
Hitomi looked around her. "How did we even get in?"
"Magic!" said Madoka.
"Magic?"
"You have your secret tricks," declared Madoka, "and I have mine, and now it's my turn."
"M - Madoka," stuttered Hitomi, her heart fluttering again. "But... but this is... this is different!"
"It's not even half as scary as getting on a bullet train when you don't know where it's going," said Madoka. "I was afraid too, but it was exciting, and I trusted you, and it was a whole lot of fun. Come on. I've got a lot more to show you; we're just getting started."
Hitomi tried the door handle, but it wouldn't quite open.
"Uh-uh," said Madoka, "you gotta try it on!"
"... There's no way it'd even fit me," objected Hitomi.
"It'll be fine," insisted Madoka.
So Hitomi stepped over to look at the costume.
"This isn't even Coppelia," she said in realization, "this is... I think this is Swan Lake! How ..."
"I cheated!" said Madoka. "More magic, obviously."
Well... all right.
Hitomi gave in, and started to change. She folded her nightgown neatly, and started putting on the costume.
"... Madoka," she said, "these are the wrong shoes. They're pointe shoes. I cannot dance en pointe. I could break my feet."
"Just wear them, then," said Madoka. "You don't have to do pointe in them if you don't want to, okay?"
"... okay," replied Hitomi,
She wasn't quite sure how she got the back of the outfit laced, or how she got Odette's crown to stay in her hair. It was as if they had done up themselves while she wasn't looking. It was like ... magic. Should she question it? Maybe Madoka wasn't even kidding.
Soon enough, she was done, and she heard a little click at the door.
"Madoka?"
There was no reply.
She tried the door now, and it was open. She stepped out into a dimly lit hallway, lined with other dressing rooms, but the door ajar at the end led to somewhere bright. A practice room? Mirrors lined the wall. There was a mirror in the dressing room too, and it had served mostly to embarrass her, but with a greater distance, the effect was stronger.
"... Wow. This is... this is very pretty, Madoka..."
Giggles, echoing all around her, were the only reply.
Hitomi tried a few warm-ups, posed. First position. Second position. Raised her right leg. Lowered it. Then, she gazed in the mirror thoughtfully for a moment, hesitating.
It was pretty special. Oh, Madoka.
The Hitomi in the mirror moved, looking down, smiling, holding her hands in front of her in the mime for Love.
A chill ran up Hitomi's spine. Was she imagining things? But Madoka had said it was magic...
A very fluttery feeling rose in her heart, and the Hitomi in the mirror shivered, and Hitomi herself shivered, and before she knew what was happening she was up on her tip-toes, just fluttering slightly en pointe, just as if she were dancing the part of Odette, and the pure white tutu quivered with every movement.
She was a little alarmed, though less at the thought that she had moved against her own volition, and more that she might hurt her feet. Pointe shoes were serious business; one was never meant to put so much weight on her toes, and so you needed to practice a lot to build up the muscles and the endurance to make it actually safe. And Hitomi was just beginning the intermediate class in dance...
You don't have to do pointe in them if you don't want to, echoed Madoka's voice faintly like a distant whisper, as Hitomi looked at herself in the mirror. But... she wanted to. She couldn't deny it. It was an absolutely terrible idea, but in her heart, she wanted to.
A whirl of motion caught her eye, as a figure came from around the corner, pirouetting as it went, and posed behind her.
"... Madoka?" asked a shocked Hitomi. And it was Madoka, posing behind her, visible in the mirror, striking a pose, one hand raised above her head. But it was a Madoka she had never imagined before. She wore black, from her shoes to her tights, her tutu and corset, a little pair of gloves, the ribbon in her hair.
"Dance with me, my dear Hitomi," said the black swan. And it was Madoka's voice, but it was low, and it was sensuous, and it was full of desire.
Hitomi searched for words. She couldn't find words. She couldn't even find thoughts. Her heart was pounding too fast. But the dark Madoka came up behind her, and gently spun Hitomi around to face her, to gaze into her eyes.
"M-... Mad-..." began Hitomi, fruitlessly. Eye shadow. Madoka had eye shadow, and regarded Hitomi with unafraid, undisguised desire.
The dark swan quickly pressed a finger against Hitomi's lips, and shushed her - then, following that preamble, she leaned in, and pressed her own lips.
The white swan and the black swan danced. What remained of Hitomi's shattered wits was astounded at the dance, a pas de deux out of legend, perhaps out of myth. There were precise and fluid pirouettes, there were implausible jumps, there were sequences when Hitomi raised her right foot straight up in the air, her left on the ground as a pivot as she leaned far back and the dark Madoka held her, regarded her: lovingly, longingly, hungrily, her smile beautiful and terrible.
Hitomi was not ready. How could she be ready? She was just in intermediate dance. Her feet protested in agony, her muscles and tendons were shot through with pain, but her heart cried just as loudly in fear, the fear that it might end...
Finally, as she landed a jump, there was a sickening crunch, and she toppled over. She had broken something in her right foot, and hurt her wrist catching herself, and lay sprawled on the ground.
What had happened around her? The theater looked out on the night as if the roof had come off, and several of the walls besides. This was a disaster area. A pile of cars had crashed into each other, up against an overturned truck, and some of them were burning. There was a boat in a parking lot. She could see the outline of the downtown skyline, but not in the dazzling lights of the city - in silhouettes against the dull glow of flames.
Dark tights and dark shoes stepped over her head, and into her vision.
"Don't look at that," said Madoka. "Look at me, instead."
"M- Madoka," she breathlessly intoned. "I - I can't dance anymore, I'm broken..." It was probably really, really bad. She'd need to go to the hospital, and might need a wheelchair for weeks, and then crutches... if she were lucky, there would be crutches...
"What do you want to do?" asked the dark Madoka, and Hitomi's wide eyes stared into hers. She crouched down next to Hitomi, offered the fallen girl a hand.
Hitomi took her hand, and, with her help, trembling, stood.
Madoka paused a moment, gently running her black-gloved hand along Hitomi's purest white feathers.
what do I want to do
The dance resumed, and every step was wreaked through with both agony and ecstasy. I want it to go on forever, thought the broken girl. No matter how badly I break, no matter how much it hurts. Just let me have this with Madoka, forever...
Were there other dancers now? It didn't matter. The only one she needed to see was with her. The rest was unimportant. So much of her life had been unimportant. She had been saved from that. It was going to be better now. Thank goodness. What was her life like before, anyway? Had she been a girl or a swan? It was hard to tell. It didn't matter in the end.
Then, without warning, they danced off the end of Time itself, and the world dissolved around them, and she was falling, falling through infinite space, and Madoka was gone from her arms, and -
. . . . .
She gasped, suddenly, as she woke up. Where was she? Who was she? She was a bird, a white bird with a foreign name, it had started with an O. Or was she a girl after all? Where was Madoka? This was all too much! She wasn't breathing properly, her breaths were too shallow, too hurried, her heart was pounding, pounding, and it hurt; she tried to breathe, tried to take deep breaths, but she couldn't think, she needed more air -
not enough air
she passed out again, on her own bed, into unconsciousness
. . . . .
The girl awoke. Or, at least, she was conscious of being in her own bed; she wasn't quite sure if she was awake, or dreaming, or maybe even just remembering.
The voice spoke, as if in her head, but also from a place nearby.
"Shizuki Hitomi."
i'm sorry, Hitomi doesn't know who she is right now
"You hold a secret in your heart," it said.
She opened an eye and looked over to the source.
"You dream of something that is impossible for you to have," said the small white creature.
Her heart beat quickly again. how do you know, no one knows
"The longing in your heart is very strong," it said, flicked its tail back and forth, "which is how I found you. I can help you, Hitomi. I can truly make your dreams come true."
"What ... what do you know about my dreams?" whispered Hitomi.
"You are in love, Shizuki Hitomi, and very badly so. The signs are quite clear, so there's no use denying it. And you are struggling with what it means."
Hitomi said nothing.
"Your struggle need not be in vain, Hitomi. Your best friend, Kaname Madoka, the love of your life, ... If it is what you truly desire, her love and affections can be yours."
what do YOU know about Madoka, you ... thing ...
"Miki Sayaka is struggling under the burden of her emotions. I have spoken with her at length. She would be happier if that burden were lifted! They both would welcome it. Hitomi, I can promise, all three of you would be far better friends for it, sharing closer bonds with each other than ever before."
No. That wouldn't be right.
"Madoka would be happy to fall in love with you, Hitomi. It wouldn't be an imposition on her will in the slightest. You'd just be making sure that things work out, that you can still have a happy future together, one where you need never be ashamed of each other."
She glared at the creature.
"No one would think any less of you. Your papa would be glad to see the two of you together, if it made you happy. Your Mama would allow it, if he asked her to. Even Yukari Hitomi would be proud of your love, Hitomi, if she could see it. All you need to do is make a contract with me, and -"
The wretched girl in the bed had given the creature a firm kick, and he flew off the bed and into the room with a thud. The commotion dislodged the bed curtains, which fluttered down and closed, obscuring her view of the room.
"Don't you speak of my precious Madoka like she's some... thing, to be manipulated, you freakish rat," she said, seething with hatred. "Go away."
The darkness said nothing back.
She blinked her eyes a few times, uncertain. Was it gone?
Was it a dream? Had it ever really been there at all?