Warning: Contains graphic violence and drug use. Escalates quickly.
Note: chapter seven, polished.
The Bodyguard and the Client
Kyouko badly wanted to punch a wall or wreck some violence, but her duty denied her the opportunity.
Yuma, her heart wailed.
She clenched her jaw, struggling to not break down and cry. Sweet little Yuma, with her dark green hair gathered into yellow hair ties, an infectious grin ever-present.
Yuma.
She was tired, grumpy after a long night of fighting familiars. Guilt gnawed at her for being so harsh with Mami, but she couldn't bring herself to care.
Dead. They're all fucking dead.
Her thoughts took a darker turn, emotions roiling in her heart, eyes stinging in a tell-tale sign of oncoming tears. God is dead. Bitterness filled her heart—her soul gem began to take an oily sheen, though she pushed that concern away.
"Kyouko-nee-chan! Look! Look, I can fly!" a happy young girl squealed, flapping her arms as she pretended to fly towards the moping girl.
Unwillingly, a smile tugged at Kyouko's lips and she gathered the messy green-haired child into an embrace. "Don't try tah fly off the roof, Yuma-chan," she chuckled.
Momo.
Yuma laughed a sweet, carefree laugh that warmed Kyouko's heart.
I couldn't protect you, Momo, but I will protect Yuma for you.
"Kyouko-nee-chan, why can't I be a magical girl, too?" she asked innocently, a pleading expression on her face.
Kyouko scowled and sharply replied, "It's not worth your life, runt. Being a magical girl ain't all fun and games like in anime."
Yuma seemed to accept her rough explanation and chattered on about a game she had once played; Kyouko ignored her unease and listened patiently to the younger girl.
Momo.
They had a feast of apples that night, and Yuma slept with Kyouko, since Kyouko didn't want to risk—
Her teeth clamped down on a stick of Pocky, breaking it in half. Never disrespect food. She began to pick it up, only to see a pale hand snatch it first. Said hand belonged to: "Kyubey," Kyouko snarled.
Enraged, she leapt at him, her hands gauging and punching every inch of skin she could reach, desperate to inflict the pain she felt onto someone else.
"You fucking bastard! IT'S. ALL. YOUR. DAMN. FAULT!" she howled, tears coursing down her cheeks. Her fist crushed one of his femurs with a sickening crunch.
Kyubey made no move to protect himself; he lay limp on the floor and let her beat him to a pulp, to the brink of death (and beyond it), smirk never leaving his face.
Die for your—
Weakling. You are such a weak person, letting Homura-chan and the others suffer in your stead.
Madoka woke up from her self-hate at the sound of Kyouko's incensed bellow; her bleary eyes immediately zeroed in on the fluffy white form at the foot of her bed.
"Kyubey?" she wondered, sleep making her docile for a brief moment before she shrieked and threw a pillow at him.
Madoka cast about for an escape, but from the sounds of a scuffle outside, she knew she was trapped.
Kyubey merely dodged the ineffective missile and replied, Kaname Madoka.
"No, please leave me alone!" Fear gripped her heart, but she suddenly switched gears. She dove towards the alien, purposefully rolling off her bed when he dodged again.
I am not useless.
No, of course not, Madoka. You are quite useful, if only you would join me.
She ignored him, scrambling desperately to her door, wrenching it open (she would rather be outside than locked in a room with the Incubator).
You could become so powerful; no one would doubt you anymore, Madoka.
Out the door, slam the door, don't trip over Kyouko and human-Kyubey (he's here, too?), Madoka dashed pell-mell down several hallways, seeking to both shake off her stalker and somehow get to the ground level where Mami and Homura were sleeping.
"MAMI-SAN!" Her first instinct was to call out for her once-senpai—perhaps not for protection, but definitely to warn her. However, Kyubey appeared before her once again, blocking her path.
You humans are very odd.
"Shut up!" she cried, aiming a violent kick towards the alien. He evaded it easily, smirking all the while.
You can end all this needless suffering, Madoka.
"You've ruined so many lives, how can you stand yourself!" Madoka snarled, all traces of her cheerful disposition gone.
I did not ruin their lives: they ruined their own lives. Let me show you.
His shiny, shiny eyes drew her in, hypnotizing her.
Fool! He will ensnare you!
She urged herself to look away, but his eyes, those twin pools of infinite despair—
Kyouko drew her gun, a crazed look in her eyes. "You killed Yuma," she whispered coldly; apathetic crimson eyes looking into grieved crimson eyes.
"No, Sakura Kyouko. You killed Chitose Yuma," he wheezed (surprisingly enough, he was still alive).
"Shut. The. Fuck. Up." Each word was bitterly punctuated by a punch to his stomach; Kyubey coughed up blood.
A single shot is all it'll take. Just one shot. He's not resisting—but Yuma, Momo—he has to pay!
He merely smiled up at her, mocking her torment.
Blood spattered slightly onto her face and soaked the floor underneath his head. She breathed heavily, hands limp and on her knees as she knelt in a pool of raw anguish.
Why? Why won't the past just stay buried?!
"Is that all, Kyouko?" Kyubey's taunting voice called out to her from the opposite direction Madoka had run (she had vaguely registered Madoka running past her, but was too absorbed in making someone suffer to care).
Roaring, Kyouko staggered up and chased another human Kyubey, completely disregarding her duty to protect her client.
Yuma, Momo, would you be—
Pastries, syringes, a childish form…had she been here before?
She hated being so lonely.
Medical supplies, freakish little creatures scurrying everywhere—that's right, they're familiars; Charlotte, someone (something?) whispered. It looked vaguely adorable, but she kept shooting—were those her old Puella Magi muskets?
She had missed the absolute control she had had over her muskets.
Why was she shooting it?
Oh, right: a witch.
Then, she was in her bedroom again, in that old apartment where Kyouko had stayed with her so many nights before abandoning their friendship.
'What wish will fuel your magic?'
Yes, that's right; in the back of the middle drawer, hidden underneath a pair of gloves, was a box of syringes and little vials full of a clear liquid.
A shiny drop ran down the needle, a quiet lullaby in the distance, were those runes on her door? There was no witch in her house, though. No matter; she had her dear syringe again, promising sweet release if she would only—
"MAMI-SAN!" Mami bolted upright in her bed, breathing hard. Across from her, Homura rolled out of her bed, gun clearly pointed towards the door.
"Kaname-san," Mami realized, but Homura had already bolted out the door, bent on saving her dearest companion. "Akemi-san! Wait!" she called out.
She cannot save Madoka alone in her state of mind.
Mami rapidly followed with her own handgun, pulling her sleep-mussed hair into a single ponytail as she went. Being a bodyguard meant being prepared at all times; it also meant focusing exclusively on the mission.
She shoved all thoughts of her old habits out of her mind.
Unfortunately, Madoka's large house provided Kyubey with ample opportunity to waylay the unfocused bodyguards—it is rather difficult to neutralize the enemy when you are losing control of your sanity, the house is like a maze, and the enemy happens to have the power of duplication.
Homura was only just ahead of Mami, but suddenly a human Kyubey was directly in front of her, forcing Mami to skid to a halt. Homura went on, heedless of whatever happened behind her.
"Will you shoot me, Tomoe Mami?" Kyubey smirked at her, his hands clasped cheerfully behind his back.
"What have you done with Madoka-san?" Mami demanded, unaware that Kyubey literally ran rampant throughout the mansion.
"If I were you, Mami, I would worry more about your dear Kyouko, since you plainly don't care about dear Homura."
Vindictive anger dripped from his words—Kyubey was done trying to convince blind humans to accept their fate.
You ruined me once before and made me suffer at the hands of my superiors; you shall pay dearly.
One-two-three shots made short work of this Kyubey. Mami ignored the guilt at pushing aside Homura, but she needed reassurance that Kyouko was alive (at the very least); she located the stairs and dashed up to Madoka's bedroom; a gruesome sight met her gaze.
Blood soaked the floors, with Kyubey's various bodies strewn about carelessly.
She stepped gingerly around the brutally mangled bodies. Kyouko stood at one end of the hall, her hands as crimson as her disheveled hair, sobbing brokenly.
"Kyouko-san," Mami whispered, her heart reaching out to the long-suffering girl.
"I knew I was l-lost, Mami, but this…," Kyouko replied hoarsely, gesturing about helplessly. "It wasn't supposed to be like this," she mumbled.
How amusing, Sakura Kyouko. You presume to do justice to the young ones who died, yet you sully their name by partaking in this gory slaughter.
This time, Kyouko simply closed her eyes. Mami glared at yet another Kyubey, whose tail swished around nonchalantly.
"Have you had your fill yet, Incubator?" Seeing Kyouko so broken and defeated electrified Mami.
Why is it that when something goes wrong, humans project the blame onto others and refuse to take responsibility? He answered her question with his own.
When she merely continued to glare at him, Kyubey taunted them: no mercy for the lost, no soothing for the sad—Tell me, Sakura Kyouko, where is your cherished god!
Once again, a torrent of bullets from Mami's gun silenced him.
"Do not insult Kyouko-san's beliefs," Mami growled.
So you will defend Kyouko here, but not Akemi Homura, who has suffered more than you can possibly imagine? Yet another Kyubey replied.
Shame flooding Mami, she—
"Madoka!" Homura cried, running towards the master bedroom, hoping that no harm had come to her yet.
She stumbled—it was raining—going back and forth, back and forth—Madoka was on her knees, sobbing—they refused to believe her—Mami's ribbons disappeared, meaning only one thing—legions of artillery machines rose at her command—a familiar ran past her—she was all alone—alone—her words no longer reached Madoka—chains clinked against each other—Kyubey—
Gasping, Homura put a shaky hand on to the wall, tears blurring her vision. Her limbs began to shake uncontrollably.
Damn it. I won't be of any use to Madoka if this keeps happening to me!
Still, she staggered on, trudging up the stairs and dazedly stumbling from one corridor to the next; her head was swimming, everything was blurred.
She was lost, so lost.
The sounds of someone—Madoka—crying guided her to Madoka sobbing on her knees, gaze locked with Kyubey in yet another corridor. Homura did not realize she had gone in circles, but that did not matter.
She pointed her gun to the Incubator, distractedly wishing she had her old grenades with her.
The alien paid her no mind, not yet. His voice, however, sounded clearly in her head.
Do you see, Madoka? See how much they suffer!
Embrace the power within you and save them, Madoka.
Save your friends, become their savior!
Madoka was drowning, drowning in the accumulated despair of not only herself, but also of Homura, Mami, and Kyouko: Kyouko kept crying out for Yuma, Mami could not bear to see Kyouko so broken, Homura was horrified at the torture she was undergoing; bloody corpses surrounded everyone, blood stained their souls, and oh kami, they were not human.
Not slowing down, Homura aimed as best as she could and killed Kyubey. Blood spatters stained the area as bullet holes appeared in the Incubator's ears, tail, and body.
Madoka fainted as the rush of sensations and memories abruptly ceased.
"Madoka!" Homura scooped her limp body into her arms, cradling her lovingly. Fever, however, flushed Homura's own cheeks as adrenaline coursed through her veins and aggravated her shot nerves.
It is no use, Akemi Homura. No matter how strong your love for her is, our will shall conquer all.
A human Kyubey sauntered down the stairs, his white suit specked with vibrant red.
"You are everywhere," Homura breathed, feeling another presence behind her.
Yes, Homura. We are everywhere; the more you oppose us, the more you shall suffer.
"No, no, no!" she cried, desperately clutching Madoka's unconscious body to her closer.
"Think about it, Homura. The further you go went in time, the worse her fate became—in fact, you are still killing her," Kyubey coldly stated, his eyes no longer apathetic. A fire burned in his gaze, challenging Homura's dazed purple eyes—
So far, Madoka had not made a contract—Miki Sayaka was dead—Walpurgis Nacht was coming—time—Tomoe Mami was dead—she had not felt the drug coursing through her veins in over seven timelines, it was taking its toll on her nerves—Madoka was smiling—cutting was out of the question—Walpurgis Nacht—darkness roiling—experimenting with her own soul gem and grief seeds, if only she had more time—a ray of hope—the Incubator was speaking—no—no—but she had suspected it for some time now—but Madoka—despair mounted—I'm not her best friend anymore—my words don't reach her anymore—she looked so disturbed—alone, fighting alone—legions of guns rose out of the sea—a carnival, eh?—time—dead—her parents used to take her to German carnivals, before she got sick—Walpurgis Nacht—Kriemhild Gretchen—oh, how painful that was—
"Yes, Homura. Crumble under the weight of your memories," Kyubey murmured, tugging Madoka from Homura's limp grasp.
Homura's clammy hands pressed into her eyes, willing the images away.
"Look at yourself, Homura. Look at yourself and be ashamed." A final gibe. "How can you expect to save your precious Madoka when you do not have your time magic anymore—you don't even have control over your own mind!"
Laughing hollowly, Kyubey stepped around his fallen bodies and slowly made his way out of the grief-stricken house with Madoka in his arms.
Fools.
／人◕‿‿◕人＼
"You let Madoka get kidnapped?!" Sayaka bellowed, slamming her hands down on the kitchen table (it was the only place that that was both free of evidence of last night and did not have painful reminders of the loving woman who had been taken from them).
Mami, face hidden behind her hands, nodded reluctantly.
Homura slouched in an arm chair Sayaka had helped Mami drag in, a dazed look on her face and blankness in her eyes.
Everyone, however, had the same disheveled appearance, though Kyouko had changed out of her bloodied uniform and had scrubbed her hands raw.
Sayaka paced around, running her hands through her hair and muttering under her breath.
"Let me get this straight: you are telling me that not one, not two, but three fully-trained bodyguards failed to protect my best friend?"
"Lay off, Miki," Kyouko growled.
They were all surprised, however, by Homura's outburst.
"Listen to me, you many times-damned fool. Madoka was also my best friend, my savior, the light of my life." Her voice was soft and she remained slouched, but her hands, gripping the arms of the arm chair until her knuckles turned white, gave away the tension Homura felt. "I love Madoka—I swore to protect her, many years ago when we were still in middle school. She saved my life in so many ways, you do not understand. For you, she was someone to be protected; for me, she was the protector—" her monotone dwindled even further to a pained whisper—"At least, she was my protector until I ultimately killed her.
"It was an accident—Madoka was too kind, she could not leave me behind while Walpurgis Nacht wreaked havoc on the city. Mami-san died, and Madoka was the only one left who would dare face off against such a witch. Miki-san, I watched Madoka die many, many times, and I watched her suffer a fate worse than death an equal number of times."
Homura stood up, somehow dominating the kitchen with her broken presence.
"I gave everything just so that Madoka would have a happy ending, my entire life was dedicated to her, I did the things I did for her, so do not presume to lecture me!" Breathing heavily, Homura clenched her fists as tears began to course down her face.
"Madoka," she whimpered, sinking back into the arm chair, completely forgetting the others' presence.
Sayaka was confused by Homura's passionate defense—Madoka and Mami never died—but Homura did not appear willing to offer an explanation. She turned to Mami, who understood her silent question.
Mami stared at her hands, guilt gnawing at her.
Had they been magical girls, their soul gems probably would have turned into grief seeds by now.
"Look, Sayaka-san: I do not excuse our failure, not at all, but you must understand… Kyubey used our weaknesses against us." She glanced to Kyouko, whose face was turned away, though her scowl was apparent. "He is not the same Kyubey of old; I noticed, and I'm sure the others did, too, that he not only looked human but he also acted like one. He has emotions to drive him now, which I think motivate him much more and give him a greater understanding of us. Coupled with the fact that he has clones and multiple human bodies, Kyubey has become a more vicious opponent. Akemi-san—" she glanced towards Homura, but she did not react to her name—"is the most susceptible to his manipulation.
"Miki-san, she relived the same month over and over again in middle school in order to find a timeline where Madoka-san would live beyond Walpurgis Nacht." By now, Mami completely believed in Homura's story.
Sayaka looked uncertain.
"She thought she had succeeded when we defeated Walpurgis Nacht and Security Firm discovered how to return our souls to our bodies, but Kyubey has risen again. It looks like he is motivated by revenge; I suspect his superiors were not pleased with his failure thirteen years ago," she continued, her eyes imploring Sayaka to understand.
"That bastard," Sayaka murmured. "I—though it seems rather out there and fishy, I can't help but believe you, Akemi-san."
Homura did not acknowledge her: she was lost the memories of past timelines tangled up all together, though a lucid part of her marveled at how much one Miki Sayaka had matured given the chance to live beyond her teenage years.
Everyone's both different and the same as they were thirteen years ago, she managed to think before images of Madoka's various deaths assaulted her once again.
If only we were not all so damningly weak.
"So what d'we do now?" Kyouko asked gruffly. Don't think about Yuma.
Though uneasy, they were all certain that Kyubey would not show up at the Kaname home again—his objective had been met.
"I want to go after Madoka, but the Incubators are more secretive than ever. Rescuing Madoka won't be easy," Sayaka replied, pacing the kitchen once again. She frowned. "Still… if Kyubey is starting to act human, whatever that means, then maybe we could trick him… we could use his need for revenge against him…"
But we'd need to keep our cool this time, she silently added.
"Yo, Miki, aren't you s'posed to be on an assignment right now?" Kyouko suddenly inquired.
Sayaka glanced at her, scoffing, before replying, "Yes, but I left immediately when Mami-san called me at freaking two in the morning; she scared me half to death. I asked Higurashi-san to cover for me—actually, I should call in and explain the situation right now."
"Sayaka-san, could you request information on Kyubey when you call in?" Mami interjected, looking better after a cup of tea—raspberry, unfortunately—a plan beginning to form in her mind.
Sayaka nodded and immediately proceeded to call the Division B manager.
Meanwhile, Mami realized that the sun would rise in a few minutes, so she used the lull in the conversation to call Madoka's servants and inform them that their employer had given them a paid week off.
A few minutes later, Sayaka hung up and pulled her laptop out of her briefcase. "Matsumoto-san sent me the file on Incubators, and I declined his offer for assistance—he insisted, however, that we leave the Incubators to him and limit ourselves to simply rescuing Madoka."
She briefly hesitated, then continued. "Akemi-san, I don't think you're well enough to help…."
Homura kept her thousand-yard stare. "I need to rescue Kaname-san," was her simple answer.
She must not die.
Sayaka glanced helplessly to Mami, who glanced to Kyouko, since Kyouko knew Homura the best (though really, she knew little about Homura).
"Gah… just give her some meds so she can stay calm; we don't have time to give her proper treatment."
Mami suddenly looked uneasy, which worried Sayaka and Kyouko. Before they could inquire, however, Homura spoke up.
"That is excellent advice, Sakura-san. Tomoe-san, I'm sure you can obtain tranquilizers on such a short notice," she spoke in her usual monotone, not sounding as dazed and lost as she looked.
Mami flinched, drawing more curious glances from Kyouko and Sayaka, but she nodded quickly and stood up.
"I will get it immediately, Akemi-san," she replied.
Could it be that she knows of my old addiction?
It was entirely possible, given how many times Homura had repeated the same month.
If so, what else does she know about me?
Mami placed her cup in the sink on her way out, adding, "I will be back in an hour or so; Sakura-san, Sayaka-san, don't do anything stupid." Then, she was gone from the oppressive house.
Sayaka didn't like being left with an abrasive and cranky (understatement of the year) red-head and a more-than-slightly-insane ex-time-traveler, but there was nothing she could do about it.
I might as well check out the file Matsumoto sent me.
She turned on her laptop and quickly pulled up the document; she spent the next half hour entirely engrossed in reading the secrets behind the Puella Magi.
"Concerning the origin of Incubators, very little has been confirmed; the prevalent theory, gathered from the little information the Incubators gave magical girls, is that they hail from a distant galaxy and arrived on Earth in prehistoric times. How they came here is extremely uncertain, though some believe that UFO sightings..."—
Kyouko didn't feel like making small talk with Sayaka—in fact, she really wanted to just curl up in bed and sob her heart out.
Except, Homura's the one who is suffering the most, isn't she?
Realizing how damaging the loss of Madoka must be on her friend, Kyouko turned to observe Homura intently.
She looks so dead. I want to comfort her, but I dunno how.
The kidnapping of Madoka did not greatly affect Kyouko, who had barely known her, but Kaname Madoka was the world to Homura.
Many minutes passed as she contemplated the emptiness in her friend's countenance.
She trusted me to take care of Mado-chan for her, just as she trusted me to return her soul to her, but I let her down this time. I'm sorry, Homura… how many times did you have to watch your best friend die?
Kyouko shuddered at the thought of watching her loved ones die repeatedly—having them die every night in her mind was more than enough torture; physically witnessing their demise constantly, every single time a little different and a little worse, was understandably maddening.
Eventually, however, hunger made itself known and she quietly got up to prepare breakfast for them all.
Food—you never wasted a morsel of food after you realized how much it meant to me.
Alone in the chef's separate kitchen, Kyouko returned to her own problems and silently cried as she washed her hands for the seventh time.
Just like my father.—
Homura, on the other hand, had no more debilitating flashbacks; her thoughts focused solely on the grief-stricken expression on Madoka's face before she had fainted.
She did not faint because she was weak; she fainted because no one can possibly stand the despair of three tortured souls, she mentally defended her best friend.
Souls.
That reminded her that the Division B manager had sent Sayaka a file on Incubators.
I wonder—my own research was cut short by my increasing desperation (she hated to admit it, but it was true), but they have had over a decade to study Puella Magi. Then again, Father Glendale and Brother Schuler managed to discover a process to return our souls in the first year; therefore, all that would really be left would be the search for proof.
Curiosity gave her a purpose and momentary stability.
"Miki-san."
Sayaka looked up, startled. When did Kyouko leave?
"May I have a look at the file?" Homura continued, though her fingers began to twitch slightly. Hurry, Mami—I need the medication as soon as possible.
"Err, sure…," she handed Homura her laptop, deciding that she should look for breakfast while Homura read the file.
Best to keep her occupied, I guess.
Homura immediately began reading ("Balance is the key to understanding Puella Magi, witches, Incubators, and the universe…"), her purple eyes not so dead when the light of the computer screen was reflected in them.
Sayaka glanced around the kitchen, acutely feeling the absence of her best friend.
Madoka… today would've been my turn to invite you guys over for breakfast.
Then, I wish I hadn't been away when you needed me the most, Madoka-chan.
By the time Mami returned with a small box in hand, Sayaka and Kyouko were in an argument over breakfast: "Well how was I supposed to know you made breakfast, too?!" "Well if ya had bothered lookin' for me, ya would've found me in the chef's kitchen!" "Ex-cuse me for respecting your privacy, then!"
Homura seemed completely enthralled with whatever it was she was looking at on Sayaka's laptop ("There is, however, one aspect in which there is an imbalance: the life of the universe, its energy…").
"Akemi-san—" Mami momentarily ignored the squabbling women—"I have the… material you requested."
Homura looked up, nodded briefly, and returned to reading the details behind the soul-returning process; she wanted to finish reading before succumbing to the blanketing effects of the drug.
Mami uncertainly set the black box next to Homura, barely resisting the temptation to take the needle and use it on herself. No, I have no need for it—not yet, at least.
"What took ya so long?" Kyouko demanded around a piece of French toast she had snatched from Sayaka's tray.
Mami opened her mouth to reply—"Never mind, I just realized ya have your hair in curls again," Kyouko smirked.
"Hey, don't be mean to Mami-san!" Sayaka protested.
"Will you two please be quiet?" Homura growled.
Mami smiled sadly. "You know, if Madoka-san was not missing… this could have been a typical Saturday morning," she murmured to no one in particular.
Sayaka and Kyouko froze, and Homura clenched her fists to stop the trembling that had started up again.
Suddenly, Mami began crying quietly, burying her face in her hands.
In her heart, Sayaka wanted to join her, but she clenched her jaw and pushed Kyouko forward. At Kyouko's bewildered expression, Sayaka mouthed, 'comfort her.'
Kyouko shuffled awkwardly to the ex-gunner, her hands reaching out to take Mami's hands in her own. "Hey," she gently said.
Mami pulled her into a tight embrace, startling Kyouko and making her blush, but she clumsily returned the hug.
Sayaka turned away respectfully and Homura turned her dead gaze once again to the laptop.
Mami's muffled sobs gradually died out and she released Kyouko sheepishly.
Wordlessly, Kyouko offered her the carrot cake she had set aside. "It's not as good as the ones you make, but—" she broke off, feeling foolish, but Mami smiled and grabbed a cake cutter from one of the drawers.
"Thank you, Kyouko-san." The normally boisterous redhead blushed again.
I wish I hadn't left you behind.
Homura, while the others functioned as normal human beings, opened the small black box and pulled out the sanitized syringe with cold apathy.
This time, I have to take it, she distantly thought.
She deftly tied a tourniquet just above her elbow with one hand, filled the syringe with the contents of the accompanying vial (resisting the urge to give herself an overdose), then swiftly plunged the needle into the bulging vein on her left arm, injecting the tranquilizer into her blood stream without a second thought.
Sayaka watched, morbidly fascinated as Homura easily removed the tourniquet and pressed a clean tissue to the puncture.
It looks like this isn't the first time she's had to give herself injections.
"When I was first released from the hospital," Homura blandly explained, disposing of the used needle in a plastic bag, "I had to continue taking several medications for my heart condition—" though that had been a lifetime ago.
Sayaka flushed, embarrassed at her apparent transparency.
Mami and Kyouko turned around at the sound of Homura's voice just in time to see her putting away the materials.
A dot of blood was visible on the tissue.
Mami turned away abruptly.
Madoka, we need you back before we all fall apart, before we all go out of our minds. Without meaning to, without knowing, Madoka had become their savior.
Everything pointed to Madoka.
/\
A/N: Huzzah! Finally finished with chapter seven, ^_^. Many thanks to my beta, yukinagato16! I wrote the first part while listening to "Blood Teller," "Kuusou Mesorogiwi," "Magia: Mindfuck Remix," and the normal version of "Magia." The second part, eh, there's no soundtrack I particularly recommend, haha.
Please review! I would really like to know what you guys think of the story.
~Teddy.