Chapter 3: An Awakening of Wrath and Fire
Oddly enough, Homura's the one following behind Kyouko as they make their way to the dreaded concession stand, but honestly, she can't really bring herself to care. She just really wants to sleep. The day isn't even anywhere near over, though. She sighs as the gleaming counter of the concession stand comes into view — damn she's screwed, huh?
Kyouko opens the gate to the area enclosed by the walls of death, entering casually while Homura has to practically drag herself through. She closes the gate behind her out of habit and leans heavily against the counter. Her working partner turns toward her, a stick of Pocky already lodged between her teeth — when in the world had she pulled that out? Homura shakes her head to regain her senses.
"Okay, so what now, sensei?" Kyouko asks, grinning cheekily at her. The black-haired girl sighs heavily, straightening up.
"Don't call me that," Homura grumbles, forcing herself to banish the droop to her facial features in favor of a more neutral expression. It's time to work, as much as she hates it. It's not like she hasn't felt this way before and gotten through it; studying for college finals has a similar effect on her, after all. If not worse. She shudders at the memory. So many coffee cups had littered the floor of her room. Just so many. The other girl raises an eyebrow at her quizzically, seeming to note her seemingly random shudder. Homura internally cringes — she really has to stop doing that so much.
"Well, whatever, that doesn't answer my question," Kyouko huffs. Homura frowns at her, and pushes herself off the counter to take a few steps closer to the taller girl.
"Well, first of all," she forcibly yanks the Pocky stick out of Kyouko's mouth, "you need to get rid of this." Kyouko splutters at the sudden action.
"H-Hey!" she snarls, immediately snatching the stick out of Homura's hand with a level of ferocity that has the other girl leaning back in surprise. "Don't waste it, you idiot." Kyouko then proceeds to swallow the stick whole. Homura stares at her, her hand that had stolen the now-forever-lost stick still suspended in the air. The insane redhead gazes right back in her eyes. They remain that way for a few painfully long moments, with Kyouko looking increasingly confused.
"What?" Kyouko finally asks. The shorter girl just shakes her head, slowly lowering her hand down back to her side.
"I-I'm not even going to comment on what you just did," Homura replies evenly, turning her back on the absolutely batshit crazy woman she's forever stuck with. Kyouko crosses her arms over her chest, pouting even though Homura can't see her.
"I just rescued that Pocky stick from your evil, wasteful hands, that's what I just did," Kyouko retorts.
"You swallowed it whole," Homura remarks despite herself.
"Yes, I did! Is there a problem, Princess?" Homura can just feel the sheer defensiveness in the redhead's tone. She sighs in defeat — there simply is no reasoning with this girl. And it's probably impossible to make her see the sheer absurdity of her actions.
"Just… just go pop some popcorn, okay?" Homura replies, waving her away with a dismissive hand.
"On it!" Kyouko responds eagerly, seemingly happy at finally having something to do, and Homura sees her salute out of the corner of her eye. She turns her head to see the girl rummaging through the cabinets, presumably to find said popcorn to pop.
"Third drawer down on the left," she instructs tiredly, leaning back against the counter. Wordlessly, the redhead complies with her instructions, fishing several bags of the stuff out of the sizable compartment. She stands up straight and walks over to one of the three popcorn machines stationed against the wall.
"No, no, no," Homura interjects sharply, causing the other girl to pause.
"What?" Kyouko inquires, turning her head.
"Don't use that one; it's evil. The third one down hasn't had any problems yet, so use that one," Homura explains. Kyouko's eyebrows furrow at that.
"If these two are 'evil' as you put it, then why haven't they been replaced?" the redhead asks curiously. "Actually, how are they even still working?"
"Because the boss is a complete ditz and really doesn't pay enough attention to these sort of things." Homura shrugs. "I really don't know what he does all day. It might explain why this theatre doesn't get nearly as much business as the other ones. As for how they're still working, they're not. Hence why you shouldn't use them. Any more questions?" she adds curtly, a dismal frown pulling down the corners of her lips. It's too early for so much talking. Far too early. Kyouko shakes her head in reply, and heads over to the designated 'non-evil' popcorn machine.
"Why do you call it 'evil'? Isn't that kind of a weird way of putting it?" Kyouko asks as she tears the bags open and lifts the hatch of the machine.
"Sayaka started calling the wonky machines that, and it just kind of became a thing." Homura shrugs. "I don't really think much of it. Can you just pop it already?" The redhead turns her head to look at her in confusion as she pours the kernels in the box.
"Sheesh, what's got you so—"
"Look at what you're doing," Homura interrupts her sharply, causing Kyouko to jerk her head back to her hands. She'd misfired and a good number of the kernels had spilled onto the floor.
"Oh, oops," she mumbles, pulling the bag back to prevent anymore wayward kernels from spilling out. "Sorry about that. Can you fetch a broom?" Homura's shoulders sag significantly at the redhead's request, and she sighs heavily, folding her arms across her chest.
"Don't make an even bigger mess," she grumbles wrathfully in reply before pushing herself off the counter and trudging her way to the gate. Once she's past the irritating obstacle, she slogs down the adjoining hall, a frown still etched into her tired features. She turns a corner down another hallway. Broom closet. Where is that blasted broom closet again? She's certain it's down this hall, but her mind's so fuzzy it's hard to think straight. Especially with that aggravating redhead draining away the meagre remnants of her energy with her crazy antics. Did the girl ever get tired? Ever? Why is she so damn weird? Honestly, Homura had thought Sayaka was crazy, but Kyouko just takes the cake. And would probably devour said proverbial cake, too. She shudders to think of what the two would accomplish if they both occupied the same space for too long. They were lucky that Madoka was there when they were in the break room, or else —
Suddenly, Homura's face painfully collides with something hard and wooden.
"Ow!" she exclaims, stumbling back from the impact and falling onto the floor. The back of her head knocks against the carpeted surface heavily, and she lays there for a few long moments, the world spinning around her. She blinks several times, and the ceiling that greets her vision finally seems to have calmed down from its drunken partying. She stares at it for a minute, slowly becoming aware of the fact that she's splayed out on the floor like a starfish and that she has a headache that could rival even the most tumultuous of earthquakes. Homura sighs deploringly. The day isn't anywhere near over yet, and she's already three-fourths of the way dead. She's quite sure her job was significantly less strenuous without the redhead around. But, it looks like they're stuck together for God-knows-how-long.
Actually, what in the world had she even knocked into, anyways? Somehow, she'd already forgotten that important tidbit of her current predicament. Homura slowly raises herself up onto her elbows, gritting her teeth in an attempt to ignore the way her head painfully throbs harder at the action. She looks up. Oh. It's the broom closet. Well, at least she had found it. With her skull. Homura sighs, and shakily hauls herself to her feet, though she's hit with another wave of dizziness that has her leaning against the wall to keep her balance intact. How fast had she even been walking to afford such a hard hit to the skull? Or perhaps it wasn't that bad of a hit and a significant portion of her disorientation is actually her sheer sleep deprivation. Who knows? She honestly couldn't care less at the moment. She had a task at hand, after all. Steeling herself, Homura pushes herself off the wall and makes her way to the door, the dizziness having thankfully dissipated somewhat. Homura retrieves a broom and dustpan from the closet, feeling oddly triumphant as she grips the fruits of her grand quest in her slender, pale fingers. It must be the pain she had endured to retrieve such things. She's very thankful the hallway is deserted, for if anyone had borne witness to her clumsy mishap, she'd have surely died of embarrassment right then and there. She turns her head to warily cast her gaze down the hall at that thought, and is relieved to find that she's correct: she is alone. Shoulders drooping, Homura sighs heavily. It's time to return to that dreaded concession stand. Oh, she really doesn't want to go back… but she has to. Hefting the broom over one of her narrow shoulders, Homura makes her way down the hall with a drag in her steps.
Homura returns to find that Kyouko has somehow managed to get the popcorn machine going, and she can hear the incessant popping even from her place at the entrance to the lobby. Well, that's a relief. She'd been concerned that the redhead would do something drastic, but at least she has some level of competency. The black-haired girl's eyes survey the lobby, surprised to find it oddly empty. Though, it's still relatively early — not even noon yet, so it's not too out of the ordinary, but still, she'd at least anticipated one customer to be in the vicinity. Oh, well. It makes her job significantly easier if she doesn't have to deal with people, so she can't complain. Kyouko twists her head in her direction at the sound of her approaching footsteps, looking rather bored.
"Jeez, what took you so long?" she grumbles as Homura makes her way into the concession stand area. The smaller girl feels a blush creeping its way onto her face at the memory of her head-bash. There's no way she's going to admit that she smacked right into the closet door. She just shakes her head at the redhead, waving her off with a dismissive hand. Kyouko huffs and crosses her arms over her chest with a mumbled 'whatever'. She's standing right next to the busy machine, her weight resting on one leg and another stick of Pocky having found its way between her teeth, despite Homura having made it clear to her to not to be eating those damn sticks while they were on duty. But, there's nobody around except them, and Homura's too tired to bother going through the same Pocky-snatching ordeal again, so she says nothing.
She's about to make her way over to Kyouko's position to deal with the spilled-kernel disaster on the floor when she notices the popping in the machine has slowed down significantly.
"Hey, you're supposed to turn it off now," she warns her work partner. Kyouko's eyebrows furrow at that.
"Why? It's still popping; we'd have less popcorn if I did that," Kyouko replies in confusion. Homura grits her teeth and begins making her way over to the redhead at a quickened pace, preparing to turn the machine off herself. She drops the broom and dustpan to the floor with a clatter that has Kyouko looking at her a little warily.
"It's going to catch on fire if you let it do that!" she answers her sharply, a feeling of dread seeping its way into her bones as she stares at the mass of buttery evil seated within the box. She reaches her hand over to flip the switch, only for Kyouko to grab her wrist and pull her hand back.
"What are you—" Homura begins to snap menacingly, only for Kyouko to interrupt her.
"You're being ridiculous; we shouldn't waste the kernels doing it like how you're saying! You're just being paranoid," the other girl interjects haughtily, putting pressure on Homura's wrist when the other girl starts struggling, Growling, Homura darts her left hand forward, only for Kyouko to grab that one as well. It's at this moment that she notices what temperature Kyouko has set the machine to.
"You're not supposed to put it at five hundred twenty degrees!" she shouts, still struggling vainly against Kyouko's grip, but the girl is significantly stronger than her, apparently. "That's ridiculously hot!"
"Well, how was I supposed to know what temperature to set it to? Besides, it'll pop faster if it's set higher, won't it?" Kyouko's lips are drawn back in an angry snarl, but Homura can see there's a bit of doubt seeping in her eyes. She's about to open her mouth to shoot back what would hopefully be a crushing rebuttal, when their nostrils are hit with a sudden, strong gust of smoke. Kyouko's grip automatically slackens on Homura's wrists when she sees the flames beginning to sprout inside the machine.
"O-Oh shit," she curses under her breath, finally releasing Homura. She just stares at the glowing tendrils of death growing and coalescing together in shock. Panicking, Homura shoves her shoulder.
"T-Turn it off already!" she shouts, though she's already taken it upon herself to start fumbling with the controls. The heat from the machine has her feeling unbearably hot and her eyes aggravatingly watery, and her hands are shaking so bad that she can't even find the switch to turn it off. It's then that she notices that Kyouko hadn't even put the lid back on properly, leaving a hole along the edge that the flames eagerly leap through. The sudden gust of fire has Homura instinctively jumping back. Her eyes glance over to Kyouko, who looks completely petrified by the flames — she's just standing there staring at them with this horrified glint in her eyes that seems indicative of something other than mere fear of being burned. But Homura doesn't have time to dwell on that, she's got to get this situation under control, and fast! With this thought in mind, she forcibly swallows her panic and darts forward to finally flip the switch, just as another bright yellow tendril of chaos shoots out from the roof of the machine. It doesn't stop the flames of course, but at least it'll slow down the rapid growth of the fire.
Homura turns towards Kyouko to yell at her to fetch some water, but the words die in her throat when she sees how Kyouko's still completely frozen, white in the face. Sighing in frustration, she grabs the girl and forcibly tugs her away her away from the machine. The action has Kyouko stumbling to the floor, but Homura just needs her to not be right next to the damn machine, so she leaves her that way. She turns swiftly and leaps over the counter in a rather impressive bound. Once her feet touch the floor, she tears down the hall, heart racing in her chest even faster than her feet. Homura's almost sent flying to the floor when she turns a corner, but she miraculously manages to maintain her balance as she charges down the hall she'd just been down a few minutes prior.
Homura sees Madoka at the end of the hall, right in front of the broom closet. The short girl turns around in surprise at the sound of Homura's' thundering footsteps, eyes widening at the sight. She quickly moves out of the way as the taller girl comes to a skidding halt, almost smashing right into the door again.
"H-Homura-chan?" Madoka intones in alarm. "W-What's goi—"
"Fire!" Homura can only gasp in reply as she tears the broom closet door open and shoots her hand in to grab a sizable bucket from its dark depths. She shoves the bucket in Madoka's hands before grabbing one for herself and flying down the hall again, leaving a bewildered Madoka to hurriedly trail behind her at a much more hesitant pace.
"F-Fire?" she repeats, even though Homura's already too far ahead of her to hear her. "Wh… Oh, not again!" The situation seems to click inside the pinkette's head, and she quickens her pace to catch up with Homura.
After they both dart inside the bathroom to endure the frustratingly slow process of filling the buckets up with water through the sink faucets, Madoka and Homura rush back to the lobby, pace notably slowed in order to prevent all the water from sloshing out. When they arrive upon scene, Kyouko's still sitting on the floor with her back against the wall of the counter, eyes still glazed in some sort of trance. Homura pushes the gate open and hurries into the concession area. To her relief, the fire's still mostly contained inside the machine, though the glass walls are already melting and she knows it won't hold up for much longer. The flickers of fire escaping through the gap on top also somehow haven't reached out to consume the rest of the area, but she most certainly isn't complaining about a stroke of pure luck.
"Madoka, get the lid off!" she shouts as she draws near the machine, bucket at ready. They couldn't douse the flames if the water couldn't reach them, after all. It's a risky move, but they don't really have much of a choice. A cough racks its way out of her lungs when she inhales a god-awful gust of smoke.
"R-Right!" Madoka exclaims, and sets her bucket down. She pulls her shirt up over her mouth and nose, then she grabs at some oven mitts laying on the top of one of the cabinets. Once they're on her hands, she rushes over to grab at the searing hot metal lid. The oven mitts aren't enough to completely block the sheer heat radiating off the metal though, and she hisses in pain as she tosses the lid to the floor. The fire eagerly takes this opportunity to expand upwards, but Homura's not going to have any of that. She swings the bucket forward, chucking water into the inferno of hell. Madoka darts forward for her own bucket, and proceeds to do the same, the stream of water delivering a swift, effective death to the malevolent demons residing within the melted glass chamber of Satan.
They both stare at the steaming remains of the popcorn machine, much of it covered in black soot and badly damaged. Inside the box is a pile of black, charred pieces of popcorn, marred beyond recognition as such. But, the flames themselves have completely vanished from the scene. Homura's shoulders sag in relief, and she can hear Madoka exhale in a similar display of respite.
The sense of relief vanishes, however, when Kyouko begins to stir. The expelling of the fire from her vision seems to have snapped her out of her odd trance, and she blinks several times at the scene before her.
"W-Whoa," she exhales in shock, using the countertop to pull herself up in a standing position. Her skin is as white as a ghost, her hands are trembling, and she has to lean against the counter to keep herself upright, but Homura doesn't have a single ounce of pity for her. Rather, she can feel a fire of her own smoldering in the pit of her stomach — a fire hot enough to have her gripping the handle of the bucket in her hand hard enough to turn her knuckles white. A sharp ache shoots through her jaw from how hard she's gritting her teeth, but she barely notices as her eyes bear down on her stupid, absolutely completely stupid! coworker like a pair of white-hot daggers of doom. For once, Kyouko seems to shrink a little under the sheer force of her death glare as their eyes have the absolute misfortune of meeting.
There's so many things Homura wants to do right now — she wants to scream at her; she wants to hurl the bucket right in her idiotic face; she wants to outright strangle the other girl, so much so that she's shuddering from the sheer effort it takes to contain her fury. But if there's one thing she can't contain, it's her need to say something to Kyouko right here, and so she can't help the way her lips pull back in a venomous snarl, or the poisonous vitriol that spills forth from her tongue.
"You're a fucking idiot," Homura hisses coldly at her then, her voice carrying with it a searing blizzard that has Kyouko grimacing like she's been punched in the gut. Madoka looks outright alarmed at the display, and she meekly brings her hands up in an attempt to placate her friend.
"Homura-chan," Madoka utters softly, grasping her shoulder gently in an attempt to soothe her, but Homura roughly shoves her arm away and spins around, the erratic motion sending the pink-haired girl stumbling back a few steps. Homura darkly stalks off without another word, stiff as a board and deathly silent save for the clack of her heavier-than-normal footsteps on the floor as she makes her exit. She drops the bucket to the floor in the midst of her retreat from the scene with a resounding clatter. Her fingers immediately curl inward at the loss of something to grip and simply remain in their arrested position with tendons bulging slightly from sheer tension. It's when she's entering the adjoining hall that Kyouko seems to recover from her reverie, and Homura can simply imagine that she's puffing up indignantly judging by the exclamation that follows.
"You never even told me how to work the goddamn machine!" Kyouko shouts furiously at her back, but there's a sharp undercurrent of defensiveness in her voice that Homura doesn't miss. Still, the mere audacity of the girl to even attempt to place blame on her shoulders has Homura's blood boiling harder than it was before, and she sucks in a piercing breath that leaves her chest aching in her attempt at self-control. She quickens her pace, mouth clamped shut in a tight line so as not to even dignify the redhead's proclamation with any sort of response.
"Hey! Come back here! Are you just going to leave us to clean up this fucking mess?" Kyouko continues lividly in response to her unabated silence, and Homura hears a thud as the other girl slams her fist on the counter.
"K-Kyouko-chan, I think you really should leave her alone for now," Madoka warns her gently, though her voice is faded by the time Homura reaches a corner, and once she's marching down another hall, the bustling whirl of an air conditioner overhead drowns out Kyouko's response completely.
A/N: Another chapter, yaay! *cheers* Sorry this one took awhile, school started back up for me. But we have some intense shizzles going on here, huzzah! Thank you all for reading, and thanks a bunch for the wonderful reviews! 'Till next time!