When I asked the Butcher if he could take me to Kyoko Sakura, he snapped his fingers and BAM! Suddenly we were just there. And by 'there' I mean in the lobby of a very classy-looking hotel; the type of classy that was all white marble and shiny bronze and polished wood, and that stylish but uncomfortable furniture that by all rights looks like it should feel nice on your ass, but then you sit down and it`s like 'ugh what is this garbage?' That kind of classy.

"And it`s Sakura Kyoko," he corrected. "Not Kyoko Sakura. God, and you call yourself an anime fan?"

I gracefully ignored him. "This place looks expensive," I commented. "Does she really live here?"

"For now she does. She moves around a lot."

I moved to a group of high-backed chairs grouped around a short table off to one side of the lobby. The chairs looked particularly inviting, so I sat down in one and was immediately shocked by the pure stiffness of it. The back went up at a right angle, forcing me to sit bolt upright in order to stay seated, and the arm rests were positioned in such a way that I couldn't rest my arms on both at the same time. It was the most beautiful, horrible chair I could remember ever sitting in.

"Dude, this is the worst sitting experience of my life," I said breathlessly, my eyes wide with awe. "This place must be really super fucking expensive! How did Kyoko afford this?"

"Well not by paying for it, if that`s what you are suggesting."

I gave him a look, and then lightly tapped myself in the head. "Oh right, magic," I recalled abruptly. "Still, though, she must be swimming in grief seeds if she can waste so much magic on these guys."

"Indeed. I hear hunting is very good in Kazamino at the moment." He prodded one of the chairs, recoiled in disgust, and sat down instead in a folding lawn chair that certainly hadn't been there a moment before. "By the way, do you have a plan for convincing young miss Sakura-san to come to Mitakihara? You cannot simply walk up and ask her, you know."

"Oh, don't you worry about that," I said, grinning confidently. "I`ve already got a plan, and it`s fairly brilliant. Practically foolproof."

Eyebrows rose amusedly. "Foolproof?"

"Foolproof," I assured him.

…..

My head smacked painfully into the solid brick wall. My vision blackened alarmingly for a moment, and by the time I could see clearly again I found I had sagged down the wall into a painful heap of flesh and limbs at the bottom. I could just say 'everything hurt,' but while wholly accurate, that doesn't give justice to the sheer scope of pain I was enduring. My body felt like one giant bruise, and I wouldn't have been surprised if most of my bones were broken, judging by the signals I was getting. Blood trickled over one eye even as the other one swelled up, and my skull was splitting open in the back, and throbbing maliciously in the front.

I willed some life into my weary legs and slowly, painfully forced myself back onto shaky knees, leaning heavily on the wall for support. I spat out a mouthful of blood and what felt suspiciously like part of a tooth.

All according to plan, I thought smugly.

About two hours had passed since I first arrived in the hotel lobby. I waited for some time before Kyoko made an appearance. I followed her out as she strolled through the city, in a totally not creepy way, and eventually I initiated step one of my foolproof plan: pick a fight. It is incredible how something as silly as a stepped-on toe can escalate so quickly with the wrong words. One accidental bump and a few well-placed words later, we were in fighting in a back alley.

Although to be fair, it wasn't really a fight so much as me getting the shit beat out of me over the course of five minutes or so. I had a clear advantage in size, but that didn't mean much against a magical girl who was faster than me, stronger than me, and a smaller target to boot. It was a comically unbalanced match-up, but thankfully my goal wasn't to win. I just had to take the beating until Phase 2 kicked in.

I wiped a bit of blood away from my eye and raised my leaden arms up in a vague defensive stance. I had long since given up on the delusion that I could land a hit on her. I hope Phase 2 kicks in soon, I can`t take much more of this.

Standing across from me was the fiery redhead of the moment, Kyoko Sakura. She was breathing rather heavily, but other than that she bore no obvious mark from our brawl. With a tired sweep of her hand she brushed away the sweat on her face, and then resumed her attack position. But instead of charging back in right away, she just stood in place, panting for breath, somehow hesitant to resume the beating. I noticed that her fierce battle grin had eroded away at some point, replaced now with a weary look. Sensing that my goal was near, I pushed myself off of the support of the brick wall and attempted to sure up my fighting stance, like I was ready to go another round if she was.

For a moment there was no sound save for our labored breathing, and then she spoke.

"Boy, you can really take a hit," Kyoko said. I thought I detected a hint of respect, maybe even slight admiration, or maybe that was just my wishful thinking.

"And you can (I paused to spit out some blood) sure throw a punch," I panted.

"Better than you, anyways," she taunted, her lips turning up in a sly smile, "you punch like a fucking girl."

"After today," I said between huffs, "I'd say that's not such a bad thing." She let out a small snort of laughter at that.

There was another stretch of silence wherein neither of us seemed sure of what to do. I am soooooo close, I thought, better not screw this up.

"You know, I can't even remember why we`re fighting," I ventured carefully, with the air of someone reeling in a 49-pound fish on a 50-pound break-strength fishing line.

"Me neither," she sighed. Her shoulders sagged and she lowered her arms and straightened up from her fighting stance. "I don't care anymore."

Taking this as a sign that the fight was officially over, I dropped my fists and gratefully leaned back against the wall, trying with all my power to not let the relief show on my face. It's over, I intoned silently, thank sweet, merciful God it's over. And now for Phase 2. I reached around into my back pocket and grasped my ace in the hole. I took a moment to mentally prepare myself; this was the most critical point of my master plan.

I pulled out my pack of pocky and slipped one between my lips before extending the small box towards the red-haired girl. "Want one?" I offered.

I held my breath.

Not literally, mind you. I was still huffing and puffing like a tank engine after the fight, I don't think I could have held my breath if I tried. But metaphorically, though, I was holding my breath.

Kyoko stood still for a single, heart-stopping second, her brow furrowed ever so slightly as she searched me with her eyes. Then the moment was over, and she flashed her canines in a genuine grin and accepted the snack without further delay, popping it into her mouth as she came to lean against the brick beside me. She played the stick around with her tongue before eventually letting it settle comfortably off to one side, where it stuck several inches out of the corner of her mouth while she sucked on it amicably.

We rested in comfortable silence born of newly-forged, mutual respect. It's the strangest thing: sometimes the strongest bonds of respect are spawned not from our most loyal friends, but rather from our most bitter former enemies.

I can't believe this is happening, I reflected in wonder, I am eating pocky with Kyoko Sakura, the actual Kyoko Sakura! I would have killed for a chance to do this.

"Hey, do you like blue?" I prompted suddenly.

She blinked. "What?"

"You know, blue? Like, the color. How do you feel about it?"

"….uh….I don't even…."

"Cuz I love blue! Blue color, blue hair, blue girls. You know, blue stuff. Love it all. Just saying."

"O-okay?"

An awkward silence followed. I wondered if perhaps I hadn't overdone it just a little bit.

"Do you live around here?" I asked, quickly changing tactics.

"Oh yeah," she answered. "I've lived in Kazamino since…forever, I guess. My dad was a Pastor, so me and my family lived out of our church while I was growing up." Here she paused, then quickly directed a question at me. "What about you? You from around here?"

I guess she doesn't want any questions about her family, huh? Interesting how she refers to 'growing up' in the past tense.

"No, I'm just in town for a funeral," I flatly stated.

"Aw, man. That sucks," she said neutrally, "who was it?"

I shrugged and stared at my feet. "It's for a good friend of mine, an old senpai. He taught me everything I know (although I would never say that to his face). He died in a car crash on Friday."

Kyoko's expression had softened when I mentioned my old senpai, and if I didn't know her character so well I might have believed I saw some sympathy in her eyes. But the Kyoko I knew didn't feel guilt or sadness for the suffering of others, at least not right now. "That's rough. He sounds like a pretty cool guy."

"Heh. Yeah…" I smiled sadly. "I just wish we had a chance to make up before he died."

"Whaddaya mean?" asked Kyoko, who was suddenly much more interested in what I had to say and was attempting quite hard not to look like it.

I averted my eyes. "Oh, we had a bit of a falling out last time I saw him," I admitted reluctantly. "I can't even remember how it started, it was probably something stupid, but we were on pretty bad terms when I left. Honestly, what really sucks is that even after all the good stuff we had, my final memories of him are so shitty." I sighed melodramatically. "Actually, what really stings the most is that I could have fixed it all anytime I wanted. I talked to his sister, and it sounds like he was waiting for me to come back, waiting with an olive branch in one hand and an apology in the other. But of course I never came back, 'cause I was too afraid, and now it's too late."

"Wow, that…really sucks."

I slid down the wall and hugged my knees. I quickly tried to whip up some tears, which was easier than you might think. I just thought about Sayaka's character ark and poof! Instant tears.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, as I pretended very hard to be stricken by grief and Kyoko pretended even harder to not be bothered by it. She tried to keep her face passive, but it was obvious that some sort of epic internal struggle was brewing behind those crimson eyes.

Eventually the red-haired magical girl slowly straightened up and took a few steps away from the bricks. "Well, it was nice to meet ya," she said, her face sober. "But there's something I have to go do. Good luck, dude." And with that she turned and walked away, her steps filled with a new purpose.

I waited until she was gone to let the maniacal grin that had been tugging at my lips break across my face.

"I think that actually worked. Holy shit!"

"Holy shit, indeed."

I turned to the Butcher with a triumphant grin. "See, I told you! I fucking told you I had this in the bag! Maybe have a little faith next time, huh?" I pumped my fist ecstatically.

"Yes, yes, very good job. And now everything will work out for the better."

I froze in my celebrations. The Butcher was giving me a look half way between amusement and sadness. Uncertainty nagged at the corner of my victory. "You know, when you say it like that," I spoke carefully, deliberately, "it almost sounds like you don't think everything will work out for the better."

"Young miss Sakura will now be present in Mitakihara from the very beginning," he explained. "you may have intended this only as a means to kill the witch Charlotte, but that will hardly be the only effect. You have no idea what other changes may occur from this interference alone. Depending on how this plays out, you could be looking at a vastly different scenario."

I gulped. "So, like….what kind of changes are we talking about here?"

He flashed me a sinister smile. "Would you like to see for yourself?"

Meekly, I nodded yes.

….

Kyoko had come to Mitakihara to find Mami. She had been seized by a sudden desire to make amends with her old senpai. Kyoko remembered the day she had stormed off vowing never to return, but she couldn't quite remember why (Some clash of ideology, or something….it had made perfect sense at the time, but now the whole thing seemed rather silly in retrospect). She also remembered the hate-fueled deathmatch of their final moments together, but she was hoping to gloss over that unfortunate affair. Except for the part where she won, that is. She had no intention of glossing over that particular detail.

But she truly did want to fix things between her and Mami. There was one terrible image that kept playing through her head of Mami dying, cold and alone in some labyrinth, still thinking that Kyoko hated her. But Kyoko didn't hate her. Even now, she loved the blonde like a sister, and she wanted her to know that at least before it was too late. Maybe they could even team up again, like old times. She didn't have a solid plan, but she was confident everything would turn out all right.

When she first arrived she had gone straight to Mami's apartment, right where she remembered it was. Upon finding it empty, Kyoko's thoughts turned to panic before she realized, of course, Mami would be at school right now.

She briefly considered letting herself in through the window; wouldn't Mami-san be so pleasantly surprised to see an old friend waiting for her in her home? But no, that was not the kind of surprise that would be appreciated, and trespassing was rude after all. Perhaps she could wait for her at their old spot, by the fountain? No, Mami-san would have no reason to stop by the fountain, and other students would be there too. In the end, Kyoko climbed to the roof of a nearby building and set up to watch the apartment. When she saw Mami walking home from school she would swoop down and reunion the hell out of her. And there would be hugs, and there would be tears, and they would say their apologies and oh-how-much-did-I-miss-you`s, and all will be made right. Kyoko smiled to herself at the pleasant image.

And then Kyoko had finally spotted her old partner below her, but the red head could only frown in annoyance. Who were those two girls and why were they with Mami-san? But of course, they had to be friends from school, invited over for tea and cakes. Naturally, a girl like Mami would have plenty of friends, why should Kyoko be surprised? Well, no matter. She would just have to wait for them to be gone and then she could make her entrance.

But when the two strangers finally left, Mami went with them. Frustrated, Kyoko resolved to tail the trio until Mami was alone, and then she would strike.

And so the red magical girl followed them all across the city. She followed them in the streets, through the mall, and all the way to a creepy, abandoned hospital, just in time to see Mami-san save a witch's victim from attempted suicide. By this point she had realized that Mami was actually taking the girls on a witch hunt and the discovery made her kinda hate the little shits. Was Mami-san really looking for her replacement between a pink wimp and a blue idiot? Still, Kyoko had to admit there was some appeal to making her entrance on a witch hunt. Wouldn't it be just perfect if she could swoop in and save her in the nick of time? Yes, she could make this work. When the three girls entered the witch's labyrinth, Kyoko transformed and followed in their wake.

Now she found herself on the sidelines of the witch's lair, watching her old senpai fight the rose garden witch with graceful ease. The witch threw an unidentifiable piece of furniture as large as a double-decker bus at the blonde-haired girl, which she blasted in two after a neat backwards dodge. Mami then turned her muskets on the abomination itself, firing shot after shot as it flew around the edges of the room. Then Mami stopped firing and looked down in horror at a danger apparent only to her. An instant later she was lifted off her feet by a black vine and swung through the air like a toy.

"Mami-senpai!" a voice cried out. It was the stupid one, with the blue hair and the stupid face.

Kyoko wasted no time on words. She ran past the two useless little girls (eliciting two useless little gasps of surprise in the process) and leapt into the arena.

The sound of footsteps outside his door caused the writer to freeze, like in one of those nature films when the deer or whatever suddenly stands bolt upright, ears swiveling to and fro listening for the sound of imminent death. No, actually it was more like when a teenager is jacking off and they hear a sound that might be something to worry about but they're not quite sure and really don't want to stop, and they kinda start to pull their pants up with one hand and their finger hovers over the escape key with the other, and they just sit there in front of the computer in total silence, straining their ears for a hint of danger. It was more like that one.

The footsteps stopped just outside.

"Sweetie?" a voice called through the door, "Did you find a job today?"

"No, Mom." His voice was a dull monotone, carefully regulated to be free of any emotion. It was a practiced tone, one the writer had developed specifically for his parents.

"You remember what I said, don't you, sweetie?"

He remembered. "Yes, Mom."

"You have to get a job now or you won't be part of family anymore, right sweetie?"

Of course she said it again anyway. "I know, Mom."

"No I don't think you do-," she began, and he could sense the volume and tempo beginning their steady rise. Rant mode- engaged.

"Ok fine!" the writer spoke up, hoping to cut off the tirade before it could pick up steam. "I'll just join the navy!"

"Well you've been saying that for months, when are you actually going to just do it-"

"Tomorrow."

Silence from the other side. He held his breath.

"….If that`s really what you want," she said, but in a way that made it clear that she didn't fully approve.

Her footsteps led away from the door, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well that was close."

"I know, right?"

The one who spoke was but a simple dude, sitting on the edge of the writer's bed. His identity was not important, nor were his traits. In fact, nothing about this dude was significant at all except that he was there with the writer at that exact time.

"And now, back to work," the writer sighed. He resumed his position at the keyboard.

"Back to writing more about your 14 year old girl lesbian color-coded super heroes?"

The writer made a face, even though he knew the dude couldn't see it from where he was facing. "I am not going to respond to that," he responded. To that.

The writer shook away the bad thoughts and refocused his full attention on his work.

He typed out five words, halting mid-sentence to correct a spelling mistake.

He stared at the words.

He erased three words, and then typed two more instead. Then he added another.

He stared at the words, swiveling idly in his chair.

He frowned, and backspaced until the whole sentence was gone.

He looked at the time; five minutes had passed.

"Writers` block?" the dude asked disinterestedly.

"Naw, this is about the normal pace I work at normally," the writer replied. He cringed inwardly as he realized how he should have used 'normal' only once in that sentence. Too late now, though.

"Seriously?" the dude laughed. "How much of this are you planning to write?"

"I only have a rough idea right now, but….. maybe 100,000 words?"

"No way! 100,000 words? You`re going to finish 100,000 words by tomorrow?!"

"Huh?" The writer turned in his chair to better stare at the dude in confusion. "What do you mean 'by tomorrow'?"

"You're gonna go join the navy tomorrow, right? You cant do that and keep writing your stupid fanfic."

He continued to stare at him.

Then he gasped dramatically as it clicked into place.

"Aw, shit," he exclaimed in hushed tones. "I'm joining the navy tomorrow! Fuck!" He gazed in dismay at the unfinished story on his computer screen. It would never be finished. "God-fucking-shit-on-a-bum-mother-fucking-dammit!"

And that's basically what happened. My sincerest apologies to all four of you who probably cared. Eh, let's be safe and call it three. I might still try and crank out some one-shots whenever I get close to a computer, but it would be simply irresponsible to try and write a long-running story from where I am right now.

Whelp, bye forever probably!