Chapter Twelve
Nobody's Home
Akemi Homura hopped from building to building. Her stockpile of Grief Seeds, always one of the first things she focused on in her never-ending setup cycle each new timeline, was more than adequate to justify some extra speed to reach her destination quickly. This was no frivolous journey, she told herself, fingering something in her pocket. Her anxiety began to ebb, replaced by the growing feeling of expectation that was building up inside of her-expectation that invariably was disappointed, shattered, leaving her filled with more heartache.
But never regret. The overwhelming sense of hope, dashed so many times before this-so many timelines before this, once again began to well up inside of her. She was about to see Madoka again, and had a solid reason to approach her. A disconnected portion of her mind wondered how she'd take the news, and if being the bearer of bad tidings was a good way to get close to someone. It was ignored in the warm pink glow that dominated her thoughts, but a new speculation entered into the mix.
Maybe Madoka would need consoling, someone to talk to, cry with, hold on to. Perhaps, in her despair, she will see that its me who can ease her pain, that we were meant to-
That hasn't happened in a long time, the disconnected part of her murmured. If it ever really happened at all.
Homura leapt across a street-wide chasm between eight story office buildings on the outskirts of downtown Mitakihara, her motion sped up to the point where she was just a blur through the night sky, briefly eclipsing a trail across the stars that hung above. Oh, how she hated that voice.
This time was different. Something had changed. The foolish girl Miki Sayaka had somehow, miraculously, not become the thing she was destined to be. Even if she hadn't lasted long after, it was still a break with previous experiences, and thus extremely encouraging.
Was it because of Kyubey's hints and innuendo, when it had interrupted their planning for Walpurgisnacht? Had Kyoko read between the lines and understood what they had been talking about, that the destiny of Magical Girls is to become Witches, or that Sayaka was about to undergo that dark metamorphosis herself? That thing always seemed to know too much, exactly what to say in order to muck up all her carefully laid plans...
She'd been there, tracking the barrier she'd detected, understanding who was inside. Something had seemed wrong about it. She had not encountered it during a previous timeline, either-she would certainly have remembered. She detected signs of combat, apparently lots of it, inside the Witch's lair. Her potential ally, and her... what?
Arch-rival for Madoka's affection, the voice in her head supplied.
Precisely, she agreed, wondering if it were mocking her. As she landed on the building's roof, her boots echoed three steps before she jumped again, compensating vertically with a magical boost as she aimed toward the twelve story building that stood at the end of this district. She'd cross the expressway on the pedestrian bridge, close to where her adorable pinkette had impetuously thrown away Sayaka's Soul Gem. She'd saved the blue-haired rookie from getting the crap beat out of her, much to Homura's frustration. It was too far a gap to hop, it wasn't like she purposefully went out of her way to revisit locations important to her shared history with Madoka. After that it was through the market, past the elementary school, and then into the suburban district where the Kaname residence was located.
Purple eyes gazed intently at the flowerbed outside of the Kaname residence. Homura had grown used to the immaculately manicured lawn, the pristine garden filled with all manner of exotic and colorful flowers, the imposingly modern design of the house... everything about the place screamed wealth. During her first visit to the house, way back when she was Moemura, she had literally shaken, overpowered by modern, understated opulence. She could barely remember that person now. So... pathetic. Timid, weak, and utterly unworthy of friendship from someone as good and kind and wonderful as Madoka was. And yet, even before she'd become a Puella Magi, the pink-haired junior had seen something in the transfer student, had accepted her and included her. Encouraged her.
She sighed, remembering Madoka as a Magical Girl. She had been such a powerful influence, not only to her but the rest of the local majou shoujo. Even Tomoe Mami had deferred to her on occasion, the blond senior laughing it off when she found herself out-argued by the small, unimposing yet oh-so-passionate Madoka.
She's like a force of nature, Homura thought, not for the first time. Elemental. Pure. She never gave up-and she'd so often win! That the victory was short-lived, snatched from her grasp... was immaterial. One day, she, Akemi Homura, would find the right timeline, the one where Madoka survived and loved her and where they could live together, forever.
She gave up when she made you promise to prevent her from becoming a Puella Magi, a sinister, disconnected voice whispered. She gave up when she asked you to destroy her Soul Gem. Interesting that, of all your promises, you choose to keep the one to Suicide!Madoka.
Kyubey. It was the source of their problems, their failures, again and again. Ignoring the voice, she focused on her hatred of the white creature, so inhuman as to be depraved... evil. But it wasn't, at least not that she could tell over her numerous encounters with it over the timelines. Just completely alien-it sometimes knew the right things to do or say, but that was a function of its "vast intellect," not any ability to empathize or understand.
None of that mattered: all that did was that Kyubey sought to bring about the destruction of the world, with Madoka as his Avatar of Armageddon. And she would not let that happen.
She was waiting outside Madoka's window-once again foolishly left open, the curtain swaying in the light breeze. She crouched patiently, watching for signs of wind. The light inside the room was on, the one on her desk. The shades were closed, and there had been no movement within for the past several minutes she'd been waiting.
Lurking in the shadows, she heard the soft rustling from the trees behind her; tensing, she watched the flowers beneath Madoka's room bend and sway, then waited until-
The breeze caught the curtain, and it billowed inward. Homura stopped time, got up and walked confidently but quietly, towards the house. She vaulted up, boosting herself to the 2nd floor ledge outside Madoka's room, bending over to peer inside. Disappointed, she slid through the gap the wind had created, careful not to touch the rippling fabric.
The things you did while time was stopped sometimes had strange effects. Say you took a hundred steps on concrete: when time began again, all those sound waves would go into effect at once, creating quite a clatter. Moving stuff around, like a curtain, while someone looked at it, also caused problems. The sudden shift or placement of objects was severely disconcerting to humans, and more often than not their thoughts turned to ghosts.
She hadn't wanted to encounter a freaked out Madoka. She'd learned that lesson the hard way.
But, she admitted, that would almost have been better than no Madoka, which is what she had right now. Gazing around the empty room, her eyes took in the places Madoka spent the most time. She stepped over to the bed, running her hand across the soft, heart-themed blanket-pink hearts so indicative of the beautiful and loving spirit of the girl who slept underneath them every night...
She admired Madoka's stuffed animals spread across her pillow and the top of her bed. Not their chibi-cuteness or how plush they were-although she was amazed at the rabbit's soft, white fur, stroking it absently. She admired the love and affection they received from their owner, whom Homura had watched time and time again hug, cuddle, snuggle with...
Jealous of a stuffed animal, now? something, somewhere, thought.
She was drawn to the desk, with its state-of-the-art computer/touchscreen, reminding her of a Navi from Lain. She shuddered, remembering the dark and depressing show she'd watched when she was much younger-so much pain and suffering! She'd been scarred by it, a bit. The suicide... awful. Anime was supposed to be fun and action-packed, that or romantic. Who would take pleasure in making people feel sad and depressed, wallowing in the misery and misfortune inflicted upon helpless characters? The real world has enough of that, already. The tip of something white and fluffy disappearing into her shield, the raven-haired girl crossed the room in two steps.
Her computer was off, the desk scattered with English worksheets and translation dictionaries. She scowled at the amount of effort Madoka had evidently put into the subject-it was a ridiculous language and a waste of the pinkette's time. She tried so hard, yet was a middling student. Homura had always been bright, if lacking the confidence to actually succeed-the time in the hospital had recently taken a toll, but with access to multiple timelines, she'd quickly mastered the material before deciding that it all was of limited use to her quest, and quickly abandoned study of any non-martial art.
Homura's eyes were drawn to a small note taped to the bottom of the computer screen: the darling girl's passwords and logins for various school and personal online accounts. Her eyes lingered on them for a moment, then passed over the rest of the table.
They matched the codes Homura had memorized timelines ago.
She also knew locker combinations, pin numbers, and a host of other useful bits of information. She needed to know as much as she could about the pinkette, so that she could fulfill her promise and keep Madoka from becoming a Puella Magi.
Maybe... Homura's heart began to beat faster, a throbbing she could feel in her ears. Flipping her hair back, she opened Madoka's bedroom door, walking out into the dimly lit hallway leading to the large open balcony and staircase to the main floor.
Tiptoeing, she made her way through the house, unable to hear her movement over the sound of the beating of her heart. As she approached the door at the end of the hallway, she paused to take a deep breath. Her heart felt ready to burst out of her chest, she placed a hand over it, willing it to slow its frenetic pace.
It did, until she reached out to open the door. Very slowly, she turned the handle, pulse going into overdrive as she swung it wide enough to see inside-
The feeling crashed, leaving her weak-kneed. The bathroom was empty.
Nobody brushing their teeth, or coming their hair. Or sitting on the toilet. Or bathing...
Maybe she's in the one downstairs, she considered. It was unlikely-it was late, why would she have down down instead of across the hall, but... it was worth checking out. she had to be sure.
Lightly hopping down from the ledge, Homura realized she'd forgotten to put back the socks she'd absentmindedly picked up while rooting through Madoka's dirty laundry for clues to her whereabouts. She hadn't found any there, or on her computer. She'd allowed time to resume, since she couldn't get electronics to work when time wasn't allowing the transmission of energy. It was a slight risk; the sound of the computer booting up was the loudest noise she'd make. The virtual keyboard had made no clattering as she punched in codes, the touchscreen requiring no clicking mouse as she checked her friend's recently visited sights and social network account. Both were full of Cute Kitten video links and cheery comments.
No sense going back up, she thought. With an internal shrug, she pocketed the socks-
Where's the body? Homura froze, her purple gaze taking in the area underneath the ledge's railing, seeing... nothing. Her mind reeled with possibilities. How had she not noticed the missing corpse of the Incubator? She'd been so worked up about getting inside, she hadn't even remembered that she'd killed it here a little over an hour ago.
Maybe an animal, a dog or something, had taken it. It was possible. But Kyubey didn't bleed, and didn't seem to be flesh in quite the same way as beings from this world. Perhaps a gardener or something had removed it? Doubtful, it was well past midnight, and she'd never encountered anyone wandering the grounds after nightfall in any of the hundred-odd times she'd visited the Kaname residence under cover of darkness.
That only left...
The Incubator tricked you, something inside her tried to say.
"NO!"
Homura froze, the sound of her shout echoing off the wall behind her. A dog started backing up the street. A light came on in another part of the house.
Homura did what she had been doing for so long: stopped time and retreated. Flushed with the beginnings of panic, an all consuming-worry beginning to suffocate her thoughts, she fled into the darkness.
I should have had enough time! Miki Sayaka, if anything has happened to her because I was forced to leave her to chase you down, I will make you pay dearly! If you've caused me to fail again, I'll kill you!
Thanks again for all reviews, please continue. Its late and I'm tired, individual responses later.