Sayaka wasn't too thrilled to be sitting in a classroom again.
She was certain that any moment now the door would slam open, and the teacher would come barging in, handing out worksheets left-and-right and telling them to finish it by the end of the period or else it was going to be homework!
Well, considering that this was a school for "Rating Games" or whatever, the subject would probably be a lot more interesting than the boring subjects back in her old school like math or history. But she still wouldn't be surprised if she was forced to jot stuff down before the class was over.
As she waited for that dreaded moment, her eyes scanned the classroom, taking in the other people there.
Xenovia was in the desk next to hers – she was sitting up straight, waiting patiently for class to begin.
Of course she would be such a model student.
Near the back, she spotted a short, white-haired girl who was flopped on her desk, lying there languidly like a cat who had found a nice, sunny spot and couldn't be bothered to move.
Huh . . . just looking at her is making me sleepy . . . .
Stifling a yawn, she glanced at the rest of the room, noticing a young, handsome-looking blonde man sitting right next to . . . another young, handsome-looking blonde man?
She blinked, thinking she was seeing double before realizing that one of them was wearing glasses.
Phew. That'll make it a lot easier to tell them apart.
The last person she noticed was a boyish-looking man with short brown hair. Sensing her gaze, he turned, flashing her a grin and a thumbs up.
She grinned and gave him a thumbs up in response.
At that moment, the door opened, and a middle-aged man with black hair walked in.
Upon seeing him, Xenovia's posture grew even more rigid (if that were even possible).
"Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Ewald Cristaldi, and I will be your instructor for the duration of this 'experience day,' as our hosts have taken to calling it."
He stood behind the lectern at the front of the room, scanning the room with a neutral expression. As his eyes passed over Xenovia, he gave her a brief nod before continuing.
Hmm . . . Sayaka wondered what that nod meant. He was dressed like an exorcist, so maybe Xenovia was a former pupil of his?
"I will be frank with you all; a mere week ago, I would not have been able to fathom the idea that I would be standing here, a school in the Underworld, instructing those I have never even met before." He began pacing back-and-forth. "I am a different person now. I am here because I believe in Sitri-san's vision, of a future where we are not separated by invisible lines that divide us by birth or circumstance." His gaze drifted meaningfully across the room. "I will not ask that you share in our vision, but I do ask that you respect it, at the very least."
His pacing stopped. "Now with that out of the way, why don't we each introduce ourselves? Feel free to state or omit your affiliation as you see fit."
A chair immediately scraped backward. "I am Xenovia Quarta, a reincarnated angel." She sat back down, shooting Sayaka a glance.
She blinked. Noticing that everyone else was looking at her, she immediately stood up as well. "M – My name is Sayaka Miki! I'm also with Heaven; pleased to meetcha!"
The girl in the back blearily sat up. "Koneko Toujou. Devil." She slumped back onto her desk.
One of the blonde boys stood up and smiled. "Yuuto Kiba. I'm also a devil." He sat back down.
The stern-looking man next to him spoke tersely. "Arthur Pendragon."
The brown-haired boy laughed. "Don't mind him, he doesn't talk much." He jabbed a thumb at himself. "I'm Bikou! I guess technically for this, we're representing the Grigori."
Ewald nodded. "An even spread. That is good." He paused. "The focus of this class will be physical combat," he declared.
Several heads immediately perked up.
". . . However, with such a diverse group, and with little to no knowledge of each of your capabilities, it would be very difficult for me to know what area each of you is lacking in. Which is why I have organized a series of bouts to help us get started."
Bouts? Sayaka's eyes nervously darted across the room, assessing the competition.
There was a wide array of expressions, ranging from deathly bored to overly eager. Aside from Xenovia, she had no way of knowing what each of them was capable of.
Eh, she could probably just wing it. Her pride demanded that she put up a respectable showing at least, which hopefully wouldn't be that hard.
xxx
Kyoko had absolutely no idea what the hell was going on.
". . . One of the advantages of demonic magic is that, quite literally, the sky's the limit. The only limit to what you can create with it is your imagination. However, despite its flexibility, it has an equally great drawback of being very easy to disrupt. Unlike a Magician's spell, which relies entirely on mathematical equations and algorithms to function and produce a result, demonic magic requires the user to visualize the effect they wish to create. Consistency becomes a glaring issue when the smallest of differences in your mental image can severely affect the outcome of your spell. Black magic, while similar to demonic magic, trades some flexibility for consistency through the art of sacrifice . . ."
When this "MacGregor Mathers" guy said that he was going to teach them magic, she thought it would involve flashy demonstrations: sparks flying, physics-defying, reality-bending shenanigans.
The actuality was that he just started droning on and on about the philosophy and theory behind each school of magic, and Kyoko quickly lost all interest.
Who cared about the voodoo behind magic, anyway? She just wanted to see results!
In her boredom, she glanced over at the others, wondering how they were enduring this onslaught of words, words, and more words.
Pigtails seemed to be having a hard time taking it all in; which was to be expected, since as far as Kyoko knew, that girl had no experience using magic. At least she seemed to pay rapt attention when the teacher began babbling about White magic and angel magic.
Vampire Kid and Witch Girl were both listening attentively, soaking up everything coming out of that guy's mouth like a pair of eager, wide-eyed sponges. In fact, if her eyes didn't deceive her, they were . . . they were actually taking notes!
Well, good for them, she supposed. She doubted that even they would find a use for half the stuff that was getting spouted off at the speed of light. Like, did they really need to know that Black magic got its name because its creator thought "black" would be an edgy name?
Sheesh, this was almost as useless as math class. At least she could use math to ration out food supplies over the course of a week.
The last two members of their unfortunate cohort, Cat Girl and Ice Queen, seemed to be . . . well, she couldn't quite tell what they were doing. Ice Queen was just sitting there with a smile plastered on, nodding every few seconds like she was paying attention. Cat Girl was sitting with her head resting on one hand, so still that she looked like she was asleep.
Wait. Was she asleep? With her eyes open, at that?
Damn, she was kind of jealous. If she had a skill like that, she could totally save herself from an eternity of boredom.
". . . And now that we've covered the basic theory, let's delve into some practical applications!"
Kyoko instantly perked up. That sounded promising, at the very least. She could handle some talking as long as it was accompanied by something cool like an explosion. Preferably loud. Bonus points if it was also very big.
"Sakura-san, Himejima-san, and Kuroka-san; since you three seem to be quite enthusiastic about this class, why don't you all come up and help me give a demonstration?"
His words were innocent, but the underlying tone made it clear that he knew exactly who the slackers in his class were.
Crap! Busted.
Glancing at her fellow "victims," she saw Ice Queen blink several times in confusion before looking sheepish at being caught red-handed.
Cat Girl, on the other hand, stood up in a swift, fluid motion that belied the fact that she had been sleeping but a few moments ago.
A light sleeper and fast reflexes? Wouldn't want to try sneaking up on her anytime soon.
They went to the front of the class, where MacGregor had them stand in a line facing him.
"While magic is an extremely broad and complex field, the one thing all schools of magic have in common is that they can all be disrupted – even the most rigid formula of the brightest Magician has a fatal flaw that you can exploit." He turned to the three of them expectantly. "I will demonstrate this concept now; I want each of you to try to cast something, anything at all, and I will do my best to counter it. If any of you can successfully get a spell past me within the time limit of, say, three minutes, then it will be your victory."
"Any spell at all? Hoho, I hope you won't mind if I use some of my more dangerous spells," Ice Queen said with a sweet grin.
Cat Girl laughed. "Don't blame me if you can't keep up, Nya."
Outwardly, Kyoko was perfectly calm, responding with a nonchalant "Yeah, sure."
Inwardly, she was panicking because she had no idea what she was going to do.
She was supposed to be keeping the whole "magical girl" thing a secret but using any of her magic ran the risk of blowing her cover. On the other hand, she didn't know any of this world's magic, and not casting anything would likely draw even more suspicion.
Ice Queen raised her hands, sparks of electricity beginning to crackle between them –
A gust of wind blew past, and the girl blinked in surprise as the sparks faded like a fire that had been blown out.
"A basic yet useful technique," MacGregor said, holding a hand out, a faint trail of runes still visible in the air. "It can be expanded upon in a number of different ways, but that also means it can be negated in an equally great number of ways."
Cat Girl, seeing that he was distracted, began tracing an ink-black character in the air –
But she wasn't even halfway done before the lines crumbled to ash, dissipating into nothingness.
"Youjutsu? That is one form of spellcraft that I am not as well-versed in as I would like to be," their teacher lamented, as if he had not just effortlessly dispelled it as easily as the first. "I am ashamed to admit that I had to overcome it through raw power rather than finesse; perhaps we could trade notes later?"
Cat Girl, clearly not amused at being upstaged, redoubled her efforts, using both hands to scrawl runes in the air, quickly working herself into a frenzy.
Similarly, Ice Queen's sweet grin had only gotten wider as more and more demonic energy crackled around her body, growing larger but never reaching a critical point before it was blown away.
Shit, shit. Alright, I gotta do something here – I am not going to be dead weight!
Judging by the other girls' murderous looks, they were going for the more "offensive" type of magic. What if she switched it up? He said that any spell at all would count, and warding spells seemed like a nice, safe option that probably had an equivalent in this world.
She rubbed a thumb against her ring, her transformed Soul Gem. Using the contact to siphon off several strands of energy, she focused them on the ground around their teacher –
"Hmm? Interesting . . . I've never seen a spell like this before!"
The strands were burned, consumed in a blazing inferno.
Kyoko cursed under her breath; not only had her gambit not worked, but it seemed her magic had drawn attention after all.
"It seemed to have its root in the imagination, just like demonic magic. But the actual execution of the spell was highly complex and formulaic, almost like a Magician's spell!" MacGregor was looking at her as he spoke, still fending off Ice Queen's and Cat Girl's assaults with ease despite it. "I would be very interested in learning more about it; see me after class, would you?"
Kyoko inwardly groaned.
Great. Not only was the cat out of the bag, but she was going to be spending far more time with this guy than she wanted.
How did Sayaka survive going to school for years? Kyoko wasn't even through her first class, and she already wanted to leave and never look back.
BOOM!
"Ah, Himejima-san? I don't believe that constitutes proper spellcasting . . ."
Well, she got her explosions, at the very least.
xxx
"Hello, everyone! It's your favorite fallen angel here, now serving as your very special instructor for this very special class!"
When Homura saw who their teacher was, she had half a mind to just get up and walk out.
To her, Azazel was . . . she couldn't say that she hated the man, but she found his antics to be bothersome at times. And while normally she could at least tolerate him, she was feeling awfully irritable, for some reason.
Must be the air down here. God knows that the circulation in the Underworld must be terrible.
Her "classmates" had a myriad of reactions to their newly revealed teacher. Issei was wildly waving at him, a big smile on his face. "Hey there, Azazel-san! I didn't know you were going to be a teacher in Kaichou's new school!"
Azazel sighed dramatically. "I didn't know either until I was asked to give a very special lecture to a very special group of people!"
A man with short black hair and grey eyes who was sitting near the back chuckled. "I seem to distinctly recall you begging a certain someone to ask their sister to give you this opportunity."
"I'll have you know, Tobio-kun, that I was not, in fact, begging, but asking earnestly," he declared with a straight face. "There is an important distinction!"
The fallen angel walked forward, stopping right in front of a silver-haired student.
"Vali," he said teasingly, "Don't expect your old man to go easy on you."
Vali smiled in response. "Wouldn't dream of it."
The fallen angel nodded before turning around.
"I'm sure you're all wondering what this class is about. Well, it's a class about Sacred Gears! More specifically, the Longinus. In case any of you haven't noticed already, everyone in this room aside from me is in possession of a Longinus."
Homura blinked in surprise. Her fellow students didn't really look like the type of people who had access to literal God-killing powers, but she supposed that she didn't either.
"I'm sure all of you are quite familiar with using your Longinus at this point," Azazel continued. "However, a little bird, although in this case I suppose I should say 'monkey,' has told me something quite interesting – even Longinus that don't have creatures sealed in them –" He glanced meaningfully at Issei and Vali. "Have some sort of consciousness embedded in them."
A consciousness? Was that what the voice that responded to her when she was in dire straits was?
"This is, of course, a significant revelation. Considering how closely bound a Sacred Gear is with the bearer's very soul, the presence of such a consciousness could have far-reaching effects on both the host's mind and body. Especially considering that these entities are far more hidden than their conspicuous counterparts, meaning that diagnosing and discerning their effects are much more difficult."
Is that so? Homura figured that a voice in her head would be a very obvious symptom of her Sacred Gear.
"That is why, for this class, the purpose is to 'open a line of communication' with the Longinus, so to speak. Since both Issei-kun and Vali have managed to do so already, albeit in a much simpler manner . . ." He glanced at the two in question. "I would like the two of you to help the others to do the same."
Issei grinned. "Alright! You can count on me!"
"I have no objections," Vali said.
"Excellent! Then let's begin."
xxx
Sayaka was sore. And bruised. But mostly just sore.
At least, that's what she was telling herself, but she wasn't feeling much of anything at that moment.
Man, these guys were tough.
Their teacher had insisted that they all spar with each of their classmates, resulting in five matches for each of them. Which was about two or three matches more than she thought she could handle.
Keyword being "thought." Turns out, it was pretty easy to ignore fatigue in her new body. There was this strange disconnect, a distance that made it feel like she was playing a videogame. An intense, hyper-realistic videogame.
It eerily reminded her of how she could ignore pain back in her other body. Her zombie body. The one that she still didn't like thinking about.
Come to think of it, did her current body count as a zombie? If what Madoka said was true, then these were brand new bodies – specially made for them and never lived-in before!
So, not zombie-like at all. It was more like . . . a puppet. A doll that someone made. Which was totally not as creepy. Yeah.
Anyway, she got trounced by that Arthur guy. Then again, he trounced everyone else too, so she didn't feel too bad about losing to him. That guy made swinging a sword look like fine art!
Most of the other bouts were more evenly matched, involving tense stalemates until someone finally made a mistake. The scores were fairly even as well, although she began picking up more wins in the later bouts once everyone else got tired.
"I am . . ." Huff. "Impressed . . ." Huff. "By your stamina . . ." Huff. "Miki-san."
Xenovia, her latest sparring partner (although at this point it was more like "victim") was doubled over, greedily sucking in air.
Sayaka scratched the back of her head and laughed. "It's nothing, really. I just got lucky that you stumbled."
Around them, the other students were in similar states of fatigue. The only notable exceptions were herself, the teacher, and Arthur.
Hmm. She couldn't help but feel that she cheated. After all, normal people couldn't casually ignore fatigue. Or sores. Or aches. Or whatever bodily sensation they wanted.
. . . She felt kind of bad now. Maybe she should've held back more to compensate?
"An excellent showing from all of you," Ewald said. "I hope this has been a valuable learning experience for each and every one of you."
He had gone around the room, observing the fights as they occurred and giving feedback to both combatants after the spar was over. Sayaka learned that she tended to guard low and that she often overextended on her swings.
Well, she never had any formal training with the sword, so it was no surprise that her technique was so shoddy. Magical instincts could only go so far.
A hand weakly rose into the air. "Was . . . was it really necessary . . . to have . . . so many fights?" Bikou asked.
"I think I'm dying," Koneko moaned from where she was collapsed on the floor.
"With so many different fighting styles in this room, it would've been a shame to not experience all of them," Ewald said.
Different styles? She counted four sword users in the room! (Five if they were including the teacher). That didn't seem very varied to her.
"But the more important thing is that you were challenged, that you were pushed to the limit. This bone-breaking exhaustion should not be a stranger to any of you. It should be your closest friend, the one who you spend the most time in the company of. It should be your night companion, the blanket that embraces you when you sleep."
Yuuto frowned, shakily propping himself up next to a desk. "That sounds . . . awfully excessive. Isn't such a training regimen unhealthy?"
Ewald gave him a level gaze. "If children, human children, who have not yet even hit their growth spurts can handle this kind of training, then I'm sure each of you can as well."
Silence. An all-encompassing silence engulfed the room as they stared at the teacher in surprise.
He sighed. "You needn't be so surprised. Such training was a necessity for exorcists. After all . . ." His gaze swept across the room. "We are not as strong as you. We are not as fast as you. We are not even as gifted as you. We humans have no advantage against the supernatural, save for our dedication and grit." He paused. "There was little choice. Each exorcist trained like their life depended on it. Which it did. Both theirs, and the lives of their comrades. A single lapse in concentration is all it takes for a fragile, human life to be extinguished."
He glanced at Arthur. "I'm sure you've all witnessed Pendragon-san's skill firsthand. Do you know why he didn't hold back?"
"Because he just wanted to beat us up?" Bikou replied.
Arthur snorted. "Please. I've beaten you so many times I've gotten bored of it."
"H – Hey –!"
"I will not deny that possibility," Ewald said. "But it is also because – to put it bluntly, holding back is a bad habit."
". . . A bad habit?" Koneko asked.
"Indeed. Whenever you train, you are also training your muscle memory. How it feels to make an attack. How it feels to dodge a blow. All of that is engraved into your body. Now, imagine that when you practice, you pull your punches at the last second. What would that do after tens, no, hundreds of repetitions?"
". . . You would start to instinctively hold back," Xenovia concluded.
"Correct." He nodded at his former pupil. "And in a real fight, that habit could get you killed."
"But . . . if we train without holding back, wouldn't someone get hurt?" Sayaka asked.
Ewald sighed. "And that is the conundrum. How do you teach someone the art of violence, without violence itself? There is no good answer; I can attest that many exorcists under my tutelage ended up in the infirmary over the course of their training."
She could see Xenovia wince at that. Unpleasant memories, no doubt.
"But if there's one thing I want each of you to take away from this . . ." Ewald slammed his hands on a desk. "It's that on a battlefield, the enemy will not hold back. They will not play fair. They will not even let you have a chance to respond, if possible. Sometimes, they will bring the fight to you, and you will have to stand your ground – no matter how leaden your arms, no matter how unsteady your legs. Use everything at your disposal to ensure that you live to see another day . . ." He leaned back. "And that they do not."
He paused and took a deep breath. "I apologize if I sound too intense. Combat is as much a medium of the mind as it is a medium of the body. It is crucial that you have the right mindset, lest a foe take advantage of your naivete. And while a Rating Game is not a real war, you should still take it seriously and treat it as such."
He glanced at the clock. "I believe that is all we have time for. If you have any questions, I will be staying for a while longer. That is all."
As the rustle of movement stirred up in the classroom once more, Sayaka blinked.
Well, that was strange.
She was just in a class for several hours.
And she liked it.
Granted, the material was far more interesting than anything else she ever learned, but still!
She had an image to uphold.
xxx
"You're not quite all there, are you?"
Kyoko froze, her body still slouched over her desk. "W – What are ya talking about?"
They were now alone in the classroom, the other students having left once MacGregor had effortlessly won the challenge. A few of them had given her "looks" before departing, such as Irina giving her a worried glance, but she had just smiled and shooed them away.
Perhaps that was a mistake? If one of them had stayed, she could've used them as an excuse to leave. But now, she was trapped.
"I can see a thread. A fine thread, so faintly woven that anyone without my skill in magic would be hard-pressed to see. It stretches out behind you, its ethereal line rising higher and higher, far beyond what the eye can see." His eyes glinted. "If I'm not mistaken, the line connects to Heaven, doesn't it?"
Too late to deny anything she supposed. Best to figure out his intentions if she could.
". . . What's it to you?"
"Nothing, really. Just wanted to indulge my curiosity." He shrugged and turned away from her. "You may leave now if you wish. I'm sure your companion is worried about you."
Kyoko blinked. Was that . . . was that really it? "Wait, really? You're not . . . you're not going to try to blackmail me or anything?"
He turned to her with a frown. "Now why would I do something like that? Our factions are in an alliance with each other, you know?"
"Under-the-table dealings happen all the time!"
"That is true," he admitted. "But is your peculiar status truly that terrible of a secret?" His eyes bored into her own. "Why is it a secret? I'll admit that it is unusual for a soul to be able to attach itself to an artificial body so easily, but there are stranger things in this world."
"Cause . . ." Kyoko paused. Why . . . why was it a secret, anyway? This wasn't their old world. They weren't the only things that went bump in the night anymore. Keeping it a secret from the general public was important to maintain the line between their worlds, but was there any reason to do the same to other members of the supernatural?
She couldn't think of any. Not off the top of her head, at least. The only reason they were keeping it secret was because it was what they had always done.
"People would look at us weird if they knew what we really were," she finished. It was a lame excuse and they both knew it.
MacGregor laughed. "Believe me, there are many things far more deserving of 'weird looks' than you." His face creased into a serious expression. "I do not care if you are a soul inhabiting a puppet. I do not care if you are a puppet who grew a soul. All I care about is whether you accept our ideals of peace, and if you are . . ." He smiled. "Know that we are willing to accept you in return, whoever, or whatever, you are."
She found herself at a loss after that little speech. It just felt so comforting, like a soothing warmth spreading throughout her body. Having spent much of her life in a dog-eat-dog sort of world, the idea of unconditional acceptance from literal strangers felt foreign to her.
But it wasn't an unpleasant thought. Not at all. In fact, she thought it would be nice to live in that kind of world, where a child's innocence wasn't stolen at a young age, where tragedies were not around every corner.
". . . Thanks," she managed to say at last.
He nodded as he began walking towards the door. "Glad to be of assistance." His footsteps paused. "Whether you choose to reveal your secret is up to you. Tell them, tell them not . . . it won't matter. It shouldn't matter. That is what this school, and by extension, we, are trying to espouse, no?"
Kyoko nodded slowly. "Yeah . . . I think I get it now."
He gave her one last smile before turning around. As he stepped through the doorway, he paused. "By the way . . ."
She glanced up curiously, wondering what more he could possibly add.
"If you had used your illusion magic, your group would've won."
Before she could get a word in, he left, leaving her to stare blankly at the door in a quiet, empty room.
xxx
"Try greeting your Sacred Gear! I always say, 'good morning' to Ddraig whenever I get up in the morning!"
Homura rubbed her forehead at his less than helpful advice. "If calling its name failed to produce results, I fail to see why saying 'good morning' would be any different."
She had ended up with Issei as her partner for this exercise. Azazel claimed that he had formed the pairings completely at random, but knowing him, there was some ulterior reasoning behind these picks.
What it could be, she didn't have a clue. And she didn't really care either. All she wanted was to get this over with, something that she thought would be easy since she had been in contact with her Sacred Gear twice already . . .
Unfortunately, it was stubbornly refusing to respond now. Why that might be, she didn't have a clue. And Issei's earnest suggestions, unfortunately, had yet to bear fruit.
The boy furrowed his brows. "Hmm . . . what if you gave it a nickname? Ddraig always wakes up to tell me to shut up whenever I mention his nickname –"
"If you finish that sentence, I will ask Albion to use his dividing power on you. Specifically on your lower region. And then your lovers will be very upset."
". . . Shutting up now."
Homura wasn't at all surprised by the dragon's sudden telepathic entrance into the conversation. A certain rat had done the same to her on far more occasions than she could count. "As I said, I don't think flinging around words in my head is going to help."
Issei paced back-and-forth relentlessly. "C'mon, think, think! At this rate, we're gonna lose to Vali!"
Over at the other end of the classroom, Vali and Tobio were deep in conversation. From what little she could overhear, it sounded like they were making steady progress.
She felt an eyebrow twitch. "I do not believe that Azazel-san arranged this exercise just so the two of you could one-up each other." A pause. "On second thought, that might very well be possible . . ."
Issei chuckled. "Yeah, sounds like something the old man would cook up." He stopped in place. "Well, do you have any ideas, Ddraig? You must know something!"
"Only God knows the secrets behind his beloved Sacred Gear system. But if you are trying to achieve a result, it may help to see how it was done in the past."
In the past? Homura's mind drifted down memory lane. Staring down a vicious fallen angel hovering in the sky, a rain of light spears falling around them. Glaring at a cruel, twisted devil, an array of equally twisted creatures surrounding them. What was the common thread between them?
An imminent sense of danger. And . . .
A strong sense of desire. To protect her very best friend. And by extension, to protect those around her. Because Madoka would be devastated if she let someone die when she had the power to save them.
"I think . . . I have an idea," she said.
She told them about the two times she heard a voice in her head, a voice that claimed to be the Longinus that she possessed, and the speculation that she had just thought of.
Issei had a thoughtful expression. "A strong sense of desire? Yeah, that makes sense. Didn't you tell me something similar once, Ddraig?"
"Indeed. Your King also mentioned it to you, back when you first met."
"So, all you have to do is feel lots of desire, and your Sacred Gear should wake up and talk to you! Simple, right?"
Homura had her doubts about that. "Easy for you to say, but producing a feeling on demand, especially one as abstract as desire is quite difficult."
"It's not hard at all! Just watch." He pulled a photo out of his pocket and stared at it.
It was like he became a different man. Homura could almost visibly see the immense aura that now surrounded him, waves of rippling energy. It contained a certain . . . feeling. A feeling that was intense, almost overwhelmingly so, but was crucial to all sentient life. It was what drove people, what allowed them to move forward toward their wonderful everyday.
And just as fast as it appeared, it vanished.
"See? I kind of cheated a bit by Boosting it so you could see what I was talking about, but you get the idea now!"
Homura blinked. That was . . . something else. For just a moment, this innocent-looking, brown-haired boy standing before her with a goofy smile looked . . . intimidating.
"What . . . what was that photo you just looked at?"
Issei, seeing that it was still in his hand, quickly put it away with a sheepish look. "It's nothing! Just something to help remind me whenever the going gets tough."
"Which is quite often, apparently, considering how often you look at it."
"Hey! I can look at it whenever I'm not super stressed out too!" He coughed. "Anyway, what I'm saying is that you should find your happy place. But instead of making you feel happy, it should make you feel desire. It should remind you of . . . why? Why are you fighting? What are you trying to achieve?"
What . . . was she trying to achieve?
A smiling face, bathed in radiance, rose up in the depths of her mind.
That smile. I want to protect that smile.
Instinctively, her hand rose up to stroke the ribbon in her hair. How long has she had it now? She couldn't even remember a time when she wasn't wearing it. But despite the long years, it had never shown a single sign of wear and tear.
She thought it fitting, that the ribbon that represented her connection with Madoka to be just as unbreakable as their bond.
And as the wellspring in her soul bubbled forth, it carried with it something brighter, something hotter, something . . . alien.
What are you willing to sacrifice, for the sake of your ambitions?
A familiar voice spoke to her. Finally. About time it showed up.
Nice of you to finally answer. I don't intend on sacrificing anything else right now, though.
If my services are not needed, then I shall take my leave.
Wait!
She could feel it pause, like it had stopped and turned around.
. . . I want to talk.
Talk? I am a merchant of miracles, one who accepts offerings in exchange for the power to change the world. Nothing more, nothing less. There is nothing for me to talk about.
At least tell me how to get in touch with you reliably. What if I need your help, but you fail to respond?
You may reach me the same way you always have. If you call on me, I will answer.
. . . Very well then.
Homura blinked rapidly as she opened her eyes, only to see Issei's eager face in front of her own.
"So? How did it go? You weren't responding for a while there, so I assume that it worked?!"
"It worked, alright," she admitted.
"Really? That's great! Hey, Vali! We finished before you!"
Not as fruitful of an encounter as she would've liked, but at least now she had an idea of how to reliably summon that inner voice of hers.
A mental image. She could do that; she spent plenty of time visualizing something similar back during her time loops, during some of her darkest days.
Her smile. That was always what brought light to her darkness, and it would be no different now.
Her eyebrows twitch as she heard something crash. It seemed that Vali, unsatisfied with his loss, had challenged Issei to something else and now they were . . . vaulting over the desks? And Issei's foot had gotten caught on one of the chairs, resulting in his untimely retirement from the competition.
Something fluttering to the ground caught her eye. She plucked it out of the air and looked at it.
It was a group photo. Rias and the rest of her peerage were smiling, their faces brimming with joy. In the center was Issei, sitting with a happy smile of his own in front of a birthday cake.
It was such a simple, mundane thing. And from what she heard of the boy's reputation, she would've expected something a bit more scandalous. But . . . she could tell how happy they all were, taking part in a celebration for someone they cared about.
It was a feeling she had never felt. Her life was a sequence of one conflict after another, and she had learned quickly to close her heart to others.
Don't get too attached. That was what she told herself, day-by-day, during that dark period of her life.
She wondered what it would've been like if she and the other magical girls had been able to live normal, happy lives. Would she still be a brooding, isolated loner? Or would she be an innocent, happy girl, with a photo just like this on her shelf?
"W – Wait – where is it – ah, Akemi-san!"
Wordlessly, she held out the photo to its rightful owner. "You dropped this."
"Ehehehe, thanks." He took it with a sheepish look. "I bet you think it's uncool for a guy like me to be carrying something like this around."
She looked at him thoughtfully, seeing him in a light she had never seen him in before.
"No . . ." she said. "Not at all."
xxx
Azazel envied human parents. They didn't have to deal with superpowered teenagers running around making terrible life decisions. Unless, of course, they were (un)lucky enough to have a child born with a Sacred Gear, in which case there was always the off-chance that life would suddenly get very, very difficult for them.
Adopting Vali held the prize for "best/worst" decision of his life (right next to sleeping with a human woman and falling). He remembered the heartbreak and sorrow of the bad times and the joy and happiness of the good times. It was a roller-coaster that he was glad to have ridden, but it was something he promised himself he wouldn't go through again.
A promise that he was now very close to breaking when a certain goddess had asked him to help a certain frigid girl with the most ubiquitous of teenage problems . . . making friends.
Which is why he and his (temporary) class were now sitting around a table playing Old Maid.
"King pair." Homura set the cards down and offered her remaining card to the left.
Tobio took it and smiled. "Ten pair." He held out his remaining card to Issei.
Issei grabbed it, his expression tense. His eyes darted to Vali, the only other player who still had a card in hand.
Vali rolled his eyes. "We all know you have the old maid. Hurry up and pass me your hand."
"You might know that I have it . . ." His hands became a blur, shuffling his two cards back-and-forth. "But do you know which one it is?!"
His hands stopped, holding the cards out towards his rival.
Without hesitation, the White Dragon Emperor plucked a card out of his hand. "Four pair." He smirked.
Issei's face slammed onto the table. "Damnit! How did you know?!"
"It was pretty easy to track your hand movements. And even if I hadn't, it was a pretty easy read, considering you were angling one of the cards away from me like you didn't want me to pick it."
"Guhhhhhh . . ."
Azazel chuckled. "You might want to work harder on your poker face, Ise-kun. You won't get anywhere in this game by being an open book!"
"I believe this is Hyoudou-san's third loss in a row? If you'd like, I could point out all the tells in your body language," Tobio said with a smile. "It might take quite some time to get through them all, though."
"I think I've had enough learning for one day, thank you very much," came the muffled the reply.
Azazel glanced at Homura, who was observing in silence. Looks like this was going to be a tough one.
"You had quite the poker-face yourself, Akemi-san," he said. "Where'd you pick it up?"
A terse reply. "Years of experience."
Tobio looked at her curiously. "Years, you say? How did that come about?"
She shrugged. "When you keep secrets for as long as I have, it comes naturally."
"An adept secret keeper, are we?" Azazel leaned forward with an easy grin. "You'd fit nicely in the Grigori. We'd love to have you!"
"No thanks."
He had expected the rejection, but he was still mildly miffed at how instantaneous it was. And while he was curious about those "secrets" she claimed to be keeping, he knew better than anyone that sometimes, it was best to not pry.
Some stones were best left unturned.
"Hey, Akemi-san." Issei's face had broken off its sudden engagement with the table. "I was wondering – what do you do for fun?"
She blinked. ". . . Fun?"
"I suppose you mean recreational activities?" Tobio scratched his chin. "While it may sound strange, I do find my day job as a bartender to be quite entertaining. Mixing drinks holds a certain sense of satisfaction and accomplishment."
Vali nodded in approval "A most mature pastime." His eyes glanced over. "But I think we all know what my rival does in his spare time."
"H – Hey! Don't go making assumptions about me!"
Azazel chuckled. "I'm afraid it's too late for that, Issei-kun. Your infamous reputation has already sunk its teeth into everyone."
As the boy continued to splutter denials, the fallen angel kept his eyes on Homura, who was frowning with a pensive look on her face, paying no attention at all to the drama unfolding before her.
Excellent. Now to put his plan into action.
"Why are you here, Akemi-san?" he asked softly.
Her eyes darted to him. "What do you mean by that?" she asked in an equally low tone.
"I've noticed that you seemed a bit more . . . irritable than usual. Like you don't want to be here." He raised an eyebrow. "So, then, why are you here? Is it because your goddess asked you to come?"
". . ."
Despite her silence, he found his answers in the words left unspoken. That, and the fact that he knew the answer beforehand.
"Do you know what it means to be selfish?" he asked.
"Caring for yourself and no other. Isn't that why angels fall?" she said sardonically.
Azazel laughed dryly. "You've got me there. Angels fall for selfish reasons." He smiled bitterly. "But . . . being selfish is not a sin. There are plenty of selfish people in this world who care for others as much as they do themselves. No . . ." He leaned back, regarding her coolly. "In moderation, being selfish simply means taking care to not neglect oneself."
". . . I see."
He leaned forward again, resting his head in his hands. "I won't ask for specifics, but . . . do you know what makes you happy?"
She nodded.
"Does it involve helping someone else, perchance?"
Slowly, she nodded again.
He smiled. "Relationships involve a series of give-and-takes from both sides, and if it's too one-sided, then she might feel like she's taking advantage of you, y'know? Perhaps, instead of doing things for her all the time, you ask her to do something for you every now and then. She would be happy, I think, to have the chance to make you happy. So, you'd both be pleased with this outcome. Win-win, right?"
She regarded him coolly. "I didn't say anything about who it was."
He rolled his eyes. "Of course, of course, do forgive me. I was just rambling to myself; pay no mind to an old fogey like me."
But despite her words, he could see the gears turning in her head, the seed of an idea being planted as she hovered over it, deciding whether she wanted to crush it underfoot . . .
Or let it grow. To let it flourish and take root.
Well, it was out of his hands now. That was one of the acceptable ways to wrap up his end of the deal, and if he had his way, he wouldn't accept another like it for a long time.
Of course, that self-made promise would only last until someone else offered to show him something as fascinating as that goddess's barrier. He really should reign in his curiosity at times.
"What's that? I couldn't hear you, old maid!"
"Don't play deaf, Butt Dragon Emperor!"
Azazel sighed. He should probably go break that up before the two of them got into a fight and burned the school down.
That wouldn't be good for foreign relations.
xxx
Omake: A New Teacher in Town
Madoka was in Heaven. Which was ironic, because she was actually in Hell.
"W – Would you like some more biscuits?"
"I would love some more, Asia-chan!"
Madoka bit down. The soft, chewy surface was just as delightful as she remembered. If anything, it was even better than before!
"This is delicious! You must've worked very hard to improve so quickly."
Asia blushed. "W – Well, after Akemi-san taught me how to cook, I kinda got interested, and one thing led to another and –"
"Say no more! I'm sure you'll be able to open your own restaurant at this rate. And when you do, you can count on me to be your best customer!"
Asia reddened further. "T – That's too kind – !"
Madoka laughed. "There's no such thing!" She sipped the tea the nun had prepared for her. It was equally as impressive as the biscuits, if not more so. "What a soothing taste! I really should take you home with me, so I could wake up to this kind of meal every day!"
The nun turned away in embarrassment. "A – Aren't you supposed to be teaching the other students?"
Madoka blinked. Right, that was a thing. She had kind of forgotten, lost in the mind-numbing pleasure of culinary pleasure.
Glancing around the room, she saw that nothing was exploding or on fire, which was a good start. Rias and Mami were still locked in an intense battle, their gazes growing more intense as they tried to outdo the other.
She still didn't quite know how that little competition started. Rias had immediately perked up after learning what the class was about, muttering something about how "if she couldn't tame the beast with her body, then she would just tame it through its stomach instead." After soaking up Madoka's introductory lesson like a sponge, she had immediately set out to create a "culinary masterpiece".
Mami had taken that goal as a challenge and sought to surpass it, saying that she "wouldn't be outdone by a novice." But despite being a rival for the devil, she still frequently gave advice and tips to Rias: a suggestion for portions here, a recommendation of ingredients there . . . Madoka was glad to see that the helpful senpai she knew was still going strong.
Somewhere along the line, the goddess had gotten around to Asia's station and been trapped there ever since. A choice that she did not regret; if she had to eat food prepared by one person for the rest of time, that one person would definitely be Asia.
The sound of stomping drew near.
Madoka blinked and looked up. A giant stone statue with glowing blue eyes loomed over her.
Oh yeah. That Gogmagog was in her class too. She had forgotten that it was even there with how quiet it was.
The giant set down a large bowl in front of her with a heavy thunk. In front of the bowl, a sheet of paper with the words "Rock Candy" messily scrawled on it could be seen.
". . . Is this what you made?" Madoka asked with a hint of confusion. Which was perfectly understandable – the bowel was empty.
The golem held a hand over the bowl. The limb began disintegrating, chunks of rock falling into the container with a cacophony of thuds.
Once the torrent stopped, the giant lowered its arm, the stump already beginning to reconstruct itself. It pulled out a bag of sugar, dumping its contents in as well. Once the entire surface was covered in white, it shook the bowel, mixing the contents. Finally, the golem reached into the bowel, pulled out a freshly hewed chunk of rock, and placed it in the crevice that vaguely resembled a mouth . . .
Crunch!
Rock shards and sugar particles fell to the ground as the golem stretched the crevice on its face into something resembling a smile. And for added measure, it gave her a thumbs up with its other hand as well.
". . . You think it tastes good?"
It stiffly nodded at her.
Madoka eyed the bowl warily. She had the feeling that its contents weren't exactly suitable for consumption by normal people . . . but she would feel bad if she didn't at least try it, considering the amount of effort her student put in.
She hesitantly plucked out a sugar-covered rock, noticing its rough texture, hard surface, and general inedibility.
Well. Maybe it would surprise her?
She placed it in her mouth and bit down.
Crunch!
. . . Tasted like rock. And sugar. But mostly just rock.
At least, the rock didn't seem to be as hard as normal. She didn't bite down very hard, but the rock collapsed easily despite the lack of force.
Didn't improve the taste much, but at least she didn't have to deal with broken teeth.
She made a pained grimace. ". . . 'A' for effort?"
The Gogmagog gave her another stiff smile, nodding its head up and down in what she could only guess was happiness.
Asia, seemingly surprised by her rating, piped up. "An 'A'? That's a good score! I think I'll try it too . . . ."
Her arm reached out, only to be caught by Madoka's hand.
"You won't regret passing on this one. Trust me. Stick to those soft, buttery biscuits, if you will."
Asia blinked at her. "Oh, um, okay."
Madoka sighed as she leaned back. Crisis averted. She didn't know what she would have done if her best source of biscuit and tea had gotten corrupted by this travesty.
Probably despair. And that wouldn't be good for her. Or anyone else, for that matter.
"I've finished, Madoka-sama!"
She blinked as Rias slammed her creation down in front of her. It looked like . . . a cake. A cake with uneven proportions, inconsistent coloring, and looked like it had far more ingredients than it should.
The highlight was a pair of coconuts set into the top with two lines of icing running parallel down next to them, creating the outline of a very . . . suggestive image.
Well. She certainly knew who the cake was for now.
"My work is done as well, Madoka-sama."
In comparison, Mami's cake looked far more elegant; the proportions were even, the icing was smooth . . . the overall presentation just looked much better.
However, she couldn't help but feel that she had seen that exact same cake before in another world, another life. It wasn't as unique, not as filled to the brim with emotions as Rias's was.
But at the end of the day, technique and emotions were both valid ways to express oneself through cooking.
"You both did very well."
They both smiled at her in return, happy that their efforts were recognized.
It doesn't matter how you go about it.
She smiled at them, proud of their work.
So long as it put a smile on someone's face in the end, it was worth it.