Opening her eyes, Homura found herself standing in the streets in the middle of crumbled, foggy city. The deserted buildings lied across the ground as rubble like broken pieces of a puzzle, the cracked streets were littered with ash and blood, the sky was darkened with black clouds with a thin fog and a foul, repulsive stench filling the air. It almost smelled like the odor of decaying bodies which made Homura nearly gag, bringing a hand to her mouth to block out the powerful stench.

Homura wore a strange outfit of white, black, and purple as purple diamonds lined up her leg-wear. It didn't look like anything she had ever seen before and hazily, looking at the back of her left hand, a triangular purple gem was embedded into her flesh, glowing dark purple in color, "Where am I?" she wondered, her head dizzy and unclear.

A shield-like contraption was also strapped onto her left arm as in her right hand, she held a broken, empty Beretta M92F. At her feet was an M249 machine gun; the heavy weapon broken into pieces, its rounds scattered messily on the pavement. Confused, the Homura she held up the broken weapon in her hand and stared blankly at it with dull eyes, "Why do I have these?" she muttered, looking around her destroyed surroundings. She walked forward and her footsteps echoed through the barren wasteland, not a soul in sight.

Then, high-pitched laughter echoed through the air like thunder and Homura trembled at the sound, running for the nearest cover in the rubble in response. She ducked underneath some cover and poked her head out of cover, "I-Is anyone there?" her trembling question echoed through the area. Homura still held the pistol in her hand despite it being useless and its ammo clip empty, "Hello?"

"Homura," another voice echoed, sounding like a young girl.

In response, Homura pressed against the rubble and crouched to the ground, her palms sweating as she tried calling out to the voice, "H-Hello? Is anyone there?"

"You're forgetting your objective, Homura, you're forgetting about me... About all of us..."

"W-What are you talking about?" Homura ran out of the rubble and searched for the person which this voice belonged to, sweat trailing down the back of her neck. She dropped the weapon in hand and climbed over rubble in an attempt to find anybody in this empty, broken city, "Who are you...? Hello...? Where am I?!"

The voice was gone, leaving Homura alone again among the wreck of a city.

She heard the sounds of glass breaking under her feet as Homura looked around the area and saw a large crater in the middle of the road. It was large, as if a small meteor had crashed into it. Seemingly lured to it, Homrua gulped and ran up to it to investigate. Reaching to the jutting edges of the crater, Homura cupped her mouth with her hands in horror at what she saw.

The corpses of 4 girls lied in the middle of the crater, their still bodies battered and bleeding as if a battle had taken place here. Their limns were bruised, injured, cut and bent in sickening directions. A broken spear and a some shattered swords were beside them, along with a pair of damaged muskets and a snapped wooden bow. She couldn't see their shadowed faces, but she could definitely see the puddle of blood that had dried beneath their bodies. The harsh odor made Homura choke as she felt bile reaching up her throat.

Quickly, Homura tore her eyes from the gruesome sight and the same maniacal laughter from just now echoed once more. Looking above her, a pair of spinning gears floated in the air above the city and hanging upside-down from it was an enormous figure in a large, blue, dress; her face could barely be seen due to the lighting, but a dark, red smile was completely visible. The thing was utterly huge as it dwarfed even the buildings that were still standing tall and its shadow loomed menacingly over Homura like a God.

Fear overcame Homura. She didn't move. Her legs and arms were frozen still with her eyes wide with fear. Before she could do anything, the clouds began to darken and a black plague-like cloud began to surround the large floating figure. It was like a horde of locust swarming the giant demi-god figure as she screamed in pain, her high-pitched laughter replaced with screeches and howling of suffering and despair.

Homura ran for her life, ignoring the bodies, ignoring the howling. At one point, she stumbled and fell to the ground, wincing in pain as darkness began to surround her vision. She was now in a room, void and empty as a cold, chilly voice muttered in her ears.

"Find me the 3rd Generation Incubator..."

"Collect information of Walpurgisnacht's arrival..."

"Eliminate anything that gets in your way..."

Homura's eyes shot open as the girl's clothing was drenched in her cold sweat. With a pounding heart, Homura registered the ceiling of Narita's house above her while she laid down her soft bed in the dark. The familiar clock above her went 'tick-tock' and it assured Homura that she was back in Narita's house perfectly fine and safe. Pressing her hand against her head and chest, Homura took a deep breath and wiped the sweat that had gathered on her forehead, "It was just a nightmare..."

Sitting up in what was Narita's bed and pulling her legs close to her chest, Homura questioned what she had seen just now in her dream. Confused and terrified by it at the same time, it was almost surreal. When she came to her senses and readjusted her vision to the dark, Homura realized that the school nurse had still not returned and she was sitting alone on the large bed, surrounded by pillows and blankets. She turned on the bedside lamp, lighting up the pictures of the Fujimaki brothers on nearby shelves, sitting beside packs of med-kits and medical licenses.

Homura slowly breathed in the night air and let it all out just as slowly. Her heart hard returned to its usual pulse rate and whatever that dream was, it was gone now.

Then, a voice could be heard outside from her window, sounding like... Takuya. Curious, Homura pushed away her blanket and stepped onto the cold, wooden floor, quietly opening the door to the room as she decided to head outside to see what he was doing so late at night. In the living room, she ignored the couch and the piano in front of her and went to the backyard, sliding the glass door aside to see the older Fujimaki practicing acrobatics on a set of monkey bars out in the dark.

The boy was dressed in a light singlet and some shorts as he didn't notice Homura staring at him from the doorway. She put some slippers and walked out onto the backyard. The grass was moist and a few flowers could be seen growing around the backyard. It was approximately 1 A.M in the morning and the stars in the night sky glittered beautifully. Takuya looked like he was going to do this all night. Doing a handstand on the metallic bars with both arms, all the blood in his body was rushing to his head and his hands were turning white from his weight.

Walking closer to him, a cold wind blew on his sweaty face and Homura's sleepwear, making the girl tighten her grip on her clothing. Takuya struggled to maintain his balance on the 1-and-a-half meter bars, confidently muttering to himself, "I got this... I got this..." his eyes were shut to help him concentrate, his long hair tied up so it wouldn't get in his eyes, "Come on... Just a few more..."

"F-Fujimaki, what are you doing?"

"Eh?" The moment Takuya opened his eyes, his sweaty hands lost their grip on the bars and the boy fell off with a startled 'Eep'. He landed head-first on the grass and then fell on his back. Coughing out the grass that had got into his mouth, a groan of pain escaped him, "O-Ouch... Oh, hi, Akemi," still lying on the ground, his eyes looked up to Homura who had quickly went up to him to check if he was all right. As if he wasn't harmed, the boy promptly sat up and shook his head, his long hair waving in the air.

"A-Are you all right?" Homura asked, crouching down next to him, "That looked painful..."

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine! I just hit my head, that's all," Takuya laughed and blood subsequently trailed down from his forehead. Homura cupped her mouth her mouth in shock, but the brunette didn't seem to be aware of why she did so, "What? I'm fine!" Takuya attempted to stand up properly, but his wobbly legs and blurry vision made it difficult, "See? I'm f- Woah... I-" the boy's back gave away and Homura caught him in her arms before he could hit the ground again.

In the kitchen, steam poured out from the water boiler in front of Takuya as he was making hot drinks for both of them with a blood-stained compression wrap tightened around his head. Homura had suggested that she make the drinks due to his head wound, but Takuya modestly declined and shrugged off the injury as just a scratch that would heal in the morning. The kitchen lights above them turned off, the moonlight seeped through the window as the boy didn't seem to be showing any signs of injury except for a few wobbling in his movements.

Homura was sitting at the kitchen table, eyeing the antique bows and arrows displayed around the small house. The looked to be plenty of years old and in her head, she wondered why the boy was so dedicated to archery. Having seen him injure himself earlier and at school during lunch break, it wouldn't be a surprise to her if every bone in his body had been broken at least once. Letting out a yawn, Homura rubbed her eyes and slumped over on the table.

"Couldn't sleep?" Takuya chuckled, looking at Homura over his shoulder.

"Yes," Homura answered in a calm tone, "I... had a bad dream."

While he waited for the water to be boiled, Takuya opened the fridge and offered her an apple which she graciously took, "What was it about?" he asked, sitting down in front of Homura and lying back on his wooden seat as he rubbed his head injury softly with one hand.

"It was... strange," she began, biting on the apple, "In my dream, I was being reminded of an 'objective' I had, and that I seem to be forgetting it. I-I think it had something to do with my lost memories... but I'm not sure. I can't remember at all," she pondered, biting again on the apple and swallowing a mouthful of it. Kicking her legs in the air underneath the table, Homura gave a tired sigh, "Lately, I have been experiencing these weird dreams. I can't really sleep very well."

Takuya scratched his chin contemplatively and stood up to take the water boiler which was now loudly billowing hot steam into the air. Taking it up, Takuya poured the hot water into 2 cups that had scoops of tea powder in each of them, "Mamoru tells me dreams are usually just nonsense. But I don't believe in that 100 percent. I've had plenty of dreams before, and they were usually about stuff I want and care about. Was yours something important?"

"I think it was," Homura assumed, still sounding doubtful, "I feel like... I have someone I need to look after, and that I had something important to do. But-" Homura folded her arms and closed her eyes shut. She looked like she was trying hard to remember, "For some reason... I also feel like I won't get anything good from trying to complete it, even if I put my dedication into whatever it is..."

Stirring the tea cups with a spoon, Takuya quietly listened as Homura continued.

"I feel like... Whatever it was that I was trying to accomplish when I had my memories, the thought of actually succeeding feels... Hopeless..." that last word was caught in her throat for a moment and felt something wet trail down her cheek.

"I don't believe that, Akemi," Takuya spoke, his tone reassuring as always, yet, suddenly mature. Turning around, Takuya brought over the cups of tea and placed one in front of her with a friendly, hopeful smile, "I don't believe that you won't be able to succeed, or be rewarded for your efforts."

"W-Why?" she muttered, taking the hot cup into her hands and bringing it to her lips. Homura wiped the single tear that had trailed down her cheek and gripped her drink tightly, "How can you be so sure...?"

Takuya sat down on his chair again and slowly sipped his drink before setting the cup down with a contented noise escaping him. He leaned back on his chair and fixed his gaze on the moon that could be seen through the kitchen window, "Because, its as Miss Narita said to me before: 'If you do give something to someone, you will be given something of equal value in return', or something like that," he waved a hand with a chuckle, "And if you put all your heart into your goal, smiling while never giving up, you'll always be rewarded for it. I mean, it's only fair, right?"

"I guess so," Homura agreed with that statement, nodding and finishing her apple. His words brought a bit of a smile on her face, "Fujimaki?"

"Call me 'Takuya'," he suggested with a wide smile, "If it's a friend, I like called by my first name."

"R-Right," Homura flustered at the implication of what he had just said and looked at the bows that hung on one of the walls, "Takuya, why do you dedicate so much to archery? From what I see, you could be doing something else with your talents or even a completely different hobby. Like, maybe, running? Painting?"

Takuya scratched the back of his neck, thinking of an answer, "Well... I wanna' repay Miss Narita for taking us in. Ever since our parents passed away a few years back, she took us and she's been so kind to us the entire time; she even volunteered to help pay for Tomura's prosthetic legs, his wheelchair and his rehabilitation," the mentioning of Takuya's parents brought a sad smile to the boy, but it disappeared in a flash. It was as if Takuya felt that being sad about the past was a pointless thing to do.

Homura blinked, "And?"

"I turned down her offer," Takuya waved another hand, "I took up archery because it was one of the only few things I did best. So I started a few small concerts to raise money for Tomura's medical bill, and even helped pay for Miss Narita's rent," he raised his cup and finished his tea, settling it down softly as he made a reminiscing smile, "I also promised Tomura that one day, he would be able walk on two normal legs again. One day... even though the money I usually earn ends up paying for the damages I tend to make, I won't stop until I've made Tomura happy again."

Tilting her head, Homura asked again, "So, you're that determined? Even if it sounds almost impossible?"

"Yup!" he chirped and raised his cup, "I'd do anything to make Tomura walk again. Ever since his accident, his rehabilitation, I've never seen Tomura ever truly happy anymore. He always hides behind a sad smile and never tells me what's really going on. But no matter what, I have a rule I always follow: 'Stay positive, stay determined, and no matter what, do your best in what you can do'."

The smile Takuya wore was more genuine than anything Homura had ever seen him give. To her, it was strange seeing Takuya like this. When she first saw him, she thought he was just an carefree, air-headed ditz for sure, but he seemed to be more caring and mature than he looked. He started to show a side she never knew he had, and as they continued talking, she began to feel a bit of warmth grow in her chest.

And at the end of their talks, Homura stood up from her seat, smiling and giggling to herself. Thinking of heading back to sleep, she thanked him for the drink and stepped out of the kitchen, "It was nice talking with you, Takuya. Good night, and good luck."

"Good luck with getting back your memories," Takuya flashed a enthusiastic thumbs-up as the girl placed her cup in the sink and headed back into Narita's room.

Homura covered herself up with the bed's warm blanket and laid her head on the soft pillow, closing her eyes. She remembered the advice Tateyama had given her and was grateful for it. It had done so much to help her open up to the people around her and ease her doubts. Now, instead of feeling like she was a complete burden to them that couldn't do anything but ask for help, she felt like she could try and be of some assistance and even repay their kindness in any way possible. Homura didn't want to be the sad, helpless girl who lost her memories. She just wanted to be a friend that they could count on as well.

Lying down on one side, Homura turned off the bedside lamp and held onto her pillow tightly, feeling the weight in her chest seemingly lifted from her.

Meanwhile, in the living room of a small, simple house, Hideki lied down on the couch with the house phone ringing in hand. The sleeves of his sleepwear were folded up, his hair was a mess and his eyes were begging to be shut. Next to the couch was a large, glass shelf with a large golden trophy sitting inside of it. Surrounded by many smaller ones, on each of the shining name plates the trophies bore, the name of Hideki's deceased mother was engraved on all of them: Hairi Hakamichi.

The person Hideki was calling finally answered, a tired sounding voice sounding from the other end of the line, "And this is?"

"Mamoru, its me. Its Hideki," the blue-haired boy sat back up and placed his feet on the carpeted floor. Leaning his body forward, he outstretched his arm to the coffee table in front of him and took out the fake documents that he had tried using to enter the tournament with. He looked at them with narrowed eyes and tossed them back on the table, "I know it's late, and I know it's sudden, but I need to talk to you about the tournament."

Hideki could hear Mamoru shifting his body over the phone. He sounded like had got off his bed to talk, "... Let me hear what you have to say."

Ever since their evening visit to downtown Mitakihara, Hideki couldn't keep his mind off the poster he saw at the arcade. Ever since Homura's accident, Hideki had almost forgotten about the upcoming tournament. The poster had only reminded him of that, and it prompted him to call Mamoru this late at night. All that chatter he overheard from the students in the arcade only encouraged him more, "Makoto's team needs only a few more people for them to enter the competition, right?"

"Yes, but you and Tateyama would require the registration forms signed by your parents to enter."

"It's not just that," Hideki shook his head, despite talking over the phone, "I saw a few of Makoto's friends at the arcade and eavesdropped on them. They're putting up a small event in the gymnasium and anyone in the school that wants in on the team can partake in it. Makoto is going to test those that sign up and for those that can last the test he's giving? They get a spot on the team. Easy as that."

Mamoru quickly voiced against this, "Hideki, can you and Tateyama even-?"

"I know!" Hideki suddenly yelled, and then toned down his voice, feeling regretful for shouting at his friend, "I know. But, we both know that with Tateyama's condition still around, Miss Tsukuyo isn't just going to let him join. And we both know how my dad feels about this... I doubt they'd sign those forms for us in the first place... Please, just let Tateyama and I try. You know how much this means to us," Hideki pleaded and there was silence for a few minutes.

When Mamoru reluctantly answered, a tone of worry in his voice, "Fine. But, I ask again: Are you and Tateyama sure you two want to go through like this? Because it will not be easy. And I don't want you two to get hurt."

"We never expected anything to be easy," Hideki sighed, rubbing his thin arm, "Tateyama and I have been trying to get pass our problems for years. We know the risk. And if we win, we'll be ready for the tournament, and we'll have full permission to join it. My dad won't even be able to disagree with this."

"I see. Then, tomorrow, lunch break, I'll meet you two at the club-room, understood?"

Hideki nodded, "Got it."

"Take care."

The call was cut-off as it ended and Hideki settled down the house phone on the table. When he stood up and turned around, Hideki suddenly met face-to-face with his father who stood at the top of the staircase leading to the bedrooms. He must have overheard him shouting over the phone just now. Shin Hakamichi, a man with a tired frown and curly, dark hair, he looked almost exactly like his son with the exception of the empty look that he held in his eyes. The two addressed each other in a cold manner, almost beret of any emotion as they avoided each other's eyes.

"Dad."

"Hideki," the man walked down the stairs and went into the kitchen nearby. He opened up the fridge and took out a pitcher of water, "Who were you talking to just now?"

"A friend of mine," Hideki answered, motioning for the staircase, "I was just asking him a favor."

"I see," Shin, after having drunk a glass of water, went back out to the living room and watched his son walk up to his bedroom, "Have you been staying out of anything that involves the upcoming tournament? Because like I told you, if I find out that you've been trying to get-"

Hideki, not even bothering to look back as he answered, faked a cocky smile, "Now, why would I be interested in that, huh?" he saw the slight scowl his father had as Shin didn't reply, before heading back into his bedroom without saying another word. Closing his door behind him and locking it, Hideki's father was always like this. His father never talked back to any insult or remark that was thrown at him. Either by him or anyone else. At most, the man was basically a doormat that people would step on and take advantage of. Hideki despised that kind of attitude.

Lying down on his bed, Hideki stared up at the ceiling of his room and pulled his blanket over him to sleep.

"Mom..."