Chapter 35

This time is different

The threat had left, finally, lost in the crowds of shoppers who'd congregated to the mall on a Friday afternoon. When the target began to move, the figure began to follow, shadowing the oblivious girl.

The girl, wearing a distinctly rumpled uniform, seemed to pause a moment, hesitating as she stepped through the sliding glass doors that had obediently opened when she'd approached. Patience, the stalker considered, ducking behind a pillar, was the most important attribute in so many endeavors. It was especially vital in matters of stealth. Reconnaissance.

Assassination.

The doors began to slide shut, but the device's governing protocol detected the presence of an obstruction, hissing slightly as the glass came to a sudden stop and retracted, waiting.

The girl standing in the doorway shook her head, short blue hair unkempt and limp. She seemed to steel herself, standing straighter as she marched forward, down the walkway. Heading towards her home.

The glass doors finally were allowed to close, but only for a few moments.

The stalker followed at a discreet distance, always careful to remain partially obstructed from the girl's view. Darting through small clusters of people chattering inanely in the afternoon light, the slim, inconspicuous figure wove behind the walking girl, whose determination had apparently begun to wear off, her pace beginning to slacken. Frustrated, the pursuer had to slow down in order to avoid attracting attention.

Every second was excruciating. The mission was clear; options had been considered, vetted, and found wanting. This was the way it had to be. The only way that made sense.

Finally, three blocks from the target's destination, she entered the park. The stalker didn't notice the trees, or the soft grass, not the impressively manicured rock garden nor the small playground upon which children screamed and laughed. At least not the way a normal person would. The trees and vegetation broke line of sight, offering cover. A field of rocks was merely an obstacle to be avoided. The screaming children... well, if things went south, they may not mask the nature of what was about to follow, but would certainly add to the chaos and confusion, allowing the easy retrieval of the body and its subsequent complete and utter destruction.

There would be no trace left of Miki Sayaka. For all intents and purposes, she would have disappeared off the face of the planet.

Taking an advantageous position among the trees, the figure bent down, lining up the shot.

"The hell? You?!"

Homura froze. This time, it wasn't time that stopped, but her. How? She'd been so careful, disguised in a long sleeved shirt and faded jeans, constantly checking her six. It couldn't be, I made sure-

It didn't change anything. Steadying herself, the black-haired girl let a long, slow breath out, her finger caressing the hair-trigger with just the slightest-

Suddenly, the rifle was spinning through the air and she was staring up at the branches of the trees above her. "What the fuck are you doing?" she heard Kyoko yell... scream, actually, from right above her. Her tactical situation was suddenly intolerable. Homura's instincts kicked into overdrive, and she flipped up, spinning around with inhuman speed, transforming into her magical attire. This was not the way it was supposed to happen, she thought mournfully, but her inner resolve was untarnished by this added complication.

"And here I was going to give you a present." Kyoko said in a falsely-sweet voice, which came out sounding like a cruel imitation of that little Kaname girl. Her almost elegant-looking red dress, split down the front, fluttered softly in the wind. Her spear was held at the ready, poised to strike, stab, thrust, slash or smash, as the situation demanded. There was no arrogant posturing; Kyoko had approximately half a second after coming upon the girl to make her decision. She'd chosen full on battle mode.

Purple eyes narrowed. Something strange... "I have no wish to fight you, Sakura-san," Homura spat, her words fast and angry. She allowed herself to stop time for just a split second, Hardly a few grains, even, she justified to herself, reaching out and retrieving her weapon. Kyoko stopped, abruptly looking down a large cylinder at the end of the high-caliber rifle barrel. "Let me-"

"Explain?" the red-head scoffed, shifting on the balls of her feet. Her eyes were locked on the black-haired girl's poised trigger finger. "It looked like you were going to shoot someone, with that big rifle of yours all aimed and shit and your finger on the trigger." She shook her head slowly, and Homura couldn't help staring at the luxurious red ponytail as it slid first across one shoulder, then another. "I don't really give a shit who you kill, as long as it's not that someone." She used the crimson ferocity of her gaze to hammer home the fact that she was not making a request.

Homura didn't scoff; it was beneath her. Instead, she calmly lectured, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. "I have no need to explain myself to you." Kyoko blinked. "Let me do what I need to do." Kyoko stared. "That is what I was going to say." Kyoko frowned. "It would be best for all parties, even Miki-san, if you left." Kyoko snarled. "Now." Then the red-head lunged.

Homura danced back, her speed suddenly quadrupled. Kyoko watched the spear hit air, as she'd known it would. The point had been to get her moving, and get moving herself, before-

*pfft pfft pfft*

Snarling, Kyoko's head spun around, searching for the elusive raven-haired girl. She's pulled this shit before, Kyoko thought calmly, ignoring the mild stabbing pain that told her she'd been hit somewhere that was probably pretty vital to a mere human. Homura had done her vanishing act, but a moment later Kyoko heard a noise in the bushes to her left, along the border of the park.

Homura cursed inwardly as she brushed against the branch; even with her temporal manipulation, the red-headed veteran was surprising fast. Glancing back, she saw an immense, razor-edged wedge of gleaming spear-tip hurtling through the air toward her, trailing meters and meters of chain. Dodging to the side-

Kyoko grinned harshly, hearing the cry as her weapon hit home. She saw the girl disappear again, but was already spinning away herself, the shaded area erupting in a series of whispering, echoing hisses. *pftpftpftpftpftpft* Three bounding leaps carried her up between two trees. "There's kids around, you crazy bitch!" she cried, suddenly unable to get the image of some little girl with her head all exploded out of her mind. Grimacing at the pain that had mysteriously bloomed in her leg, she reached the highest branch she guessed would hold her weight.

Homura had watched the red-head twist and turn in what she would have previously considered ridiculously unlikely displays of agility. The way she moved reminded the girl of fire, of all things. The snapping violence, the chaotic twisting and dancing... Her shoulder ached, the gash along it already beginning to re-knit, the bleeding stopped. She froze time for a brief two seconds, a few more precious grains lost forever, or at least until next time, in order to line up her shot. She'd fired a dozen times in a wide, interlocking spread of almost mathematical precision. It should have resulted in several clean and incapacitating hits. And if one should connect with her Soul Gem, so much the better.

Her impassive face had lost its rigidity, and she frowned as things restarted and her opponent somehow wove her way though all but one of the shots, then proceeded to go vertical.

And then Kyoko took off, her jump carrying her across the street.

"I'm not running, asshole!" Kyoko shouted, heading away from the direction of Sayaka's apartment. And the people in that park. The little kids, at least. "Keep bringing it, you crazy bitch!" She paused, watching the white-shirted figure in the distance, a glint of sunlight playing off the metallic disc on her arm. Then Homura was twenty feet behind her and Kyoko thought, Ah shit, leaping straight up, spinning and twisting wildly. She heard a sound not unlike an angry bee buzz past her ears several times before she was really airborne, and glanced down as she used a little magic to boost herself away from the street. She stuck the landing as she slammed into the cement roof on top of the five story building, a small puff of dust rising from her impact.

Then she waited. Every moment made her chest and leg feel just a little better. Not that it's impacting my combat-readiness, she thought. I could take ten more-

Homura appeared by the doorway, and Kyoko noticed it clicking back into place. It hadn't been open a moment before. Before she had time to contemplate why the other girl had apparently taken the stairs, Kyoko was moving. Her spear came apart, and she sent the entire thing ahead of her, a tangled net of chain and blade. It hit the wall of the small structure that housed the stairwell, sending cracks spiderwebbing across. She turned even before she'd landed, searching midair for where this dangerous other girl would pop up next.

There was no time for wondering. No time to contemplate, to try to understand or even explain to herself. There was only time for-

There! It was the thought of a hunter, a primal imperative to take down her prey.

Homura gasped as, almost as soon as she'd stepped back into the flow of time, her right arm was nearly pulled from its socket. Rivulets of warm, thick blood began to trail down her back as the wound along her other shoulder re-opened. She was too professional a warrior to gape, and she dodged backwards, letting go of the useless sheared-in-half rifle she'd instinctively managed to hold on to.

Enough. This had become far to much effort. Homura strode forward, ignoring the long, spiky chain that seemed to float suspended in midair, scant inches from her face. Forcing herself to walk slowly, calmly, she drew a deep breath, trying to still her racing heart.

It was too bad it had to come to this. "You would have made a powerful ally, Sakura Kyoko," she began regretfully, reaching behind her shield, inside her shield. It didn't matter, really, what she said. The red-head, frozen in midair, snarling and brandishing wicked canines and those incredible legs, the black stockings that didn't quite make it up all the way... she'd hear everything she said as one big jumble of noise once time began again. If she heard anything at all.

Homura walked around her helpless opponent, finding the prospect of looking directly at the red-head unbearable as she chambered the first round in the immense pistol held in her hand. "I'm sorry it had to come to this. But," she consoled, whether to Kyoko or herself she was uncertain, "none of this matters, things will go back to the way they always were." She sighed. "Until next time." Then without glancing back, she put all eight bullets into the center of Kyoko's chest.

Still looking away, she let time resume.

Kyoko's body fell to the ground, the spear and chain vanishing along with a good portion of the red-head's upper chest as the tight grouping of bullets ripped through her chest. Her glazed eyes stared, wide with surprise.

Kyoko's snarl had been shifting to a grin. I finally fucking got her! She saw the bladed tip of her weapon slice the rifle in half, the stunned expression on her opponents face... well, slightly upraised eyebrows was Homura's stunned expression. One little flick, and the chain swept toward the black-haired girl, and once she got a hold of her...

Homura disappeared, there was a loud series of echoing BLA-A-AMs, and everything went black.

Raven-black hair snapped in the wind. Homura looked down; five stories wasn't all that high. It was right around here that cat could likely survive a fall, from this height. Strangely, unless you thought about it, any lower and they'd more likely suffer a crippling injury or die.

Homura had no interest in suffering a crippling injury. Unconsciously she rotated first one shoulder, than another, wincing slightly as she felt the recent wound stretch. Her gem sparkled, a deep shade of amethyst. She heard sirens in the distance, but was unconcerned. With all the buildings around here, determining the direction of a gunshot would be almost impossible with all the acoustic reflection.

Looking up, she let out a tired sigh. Not done yet, but closer. Close. Maybe this was for the best. She'd enjoy what time she had left... time she wished she could enjoy forever. She just wanted things to be less complicated for once.

Still, it was regrettable. Even if, a month or a year from now, or five, or ten... there'd be an entirely different Kyoko walking around, trying to get under her skin with that obnoxious banter... it was still Kyoko. Or, it had been.

Homura approached the body, sprawled out on the hard surface of the rooftop. The sun was low in the sky, and a long shadow stretched from the stairwell across the roof, covering the grisly remains in merciful darkness. She forced herself to look down. She'd have to eventually, needing to dispose of the corpse anyway. Madoka might get justifiably suspicious if the two friends they'd just run into suddenly wound up dead.

"Oh Madoka," the black-haired girl sighed. How had everything gotten so... complicated? Everything, always, remained the same, despite her best efforts... why was it that suddenly she was feeling like she had changed, had turned into something else. What am I?

She knew the answer. That little voice was there to reassure her. You're the one that does what needs to be done. You're the one who's going to win. Win against what, she wasn't exactly certain. Against what was she supposed to measure success? Fate? Chance? Kyubey? Probably Kyubey.

And... what even was success, at this point? Maybe it was time to take another look at things, step back and reassess...

She'd recently begun to take a longer view of things. In the past couple run-throughs, she'd been feeling less... motivated. Her desperate need to make everything right had soured, the mission becoming her Sisyphean task. All the pressure, the stress and strain... she just needed a little break for the constant struggle. After the abrupt failure this time to prevent her friend from Contracting, it felt like everything was up in the air. What did it matter, really, what happened this time? She'd be ready, recharged, for the next attempt.

Madoka. For some reason, it just wasn't the same. Not like she remembered. She was so confused. And the guilty feeling that never went away wasn't helping, either...

She frowned, bending down next to the lifeless body, the red dress and shadows hiding the blood but not the ragged holes that had punched through the once-beautiful chest, black gaping wounds that likely went all the way through her. The crimson fabric of her outfit was torn along the collar and sternum.

Distracted by her thoughts, she still noticed something odd. Leaning down even closer, she peered at the body. She searched the ground nearby, failing to find the telltale red crystalline shards she was looking for.

A hand attached to a black-sleeved arm darted up, iron fingers squeezing around Homura's throat.

Oh god no not again Fuck Jesus shit damn ow. She thought that to herself, a couple hundred times and not in any particular order, initially trying to lay as still as possible. She'd woken up to her body having been completely broken, apparently. At least she didn't have to try and stay still, because she wasn't able to move it. The pain was indescribable, but Kyoko lay there, her consciousness tethered to her Soul Gem rather than that strange and mysterious place behind her eyes she generally considered to be herself.

It was odd. And a little unfair, she mused, that it hurts even though I'm basically having an out of body experience. She reflected on a hidden irony for a moment, not amused precisely, but somehow feeling bolstered. Everything was fuzzy, and she couldn't see, exactly, but seemed to possess a sphere of awareness. It was small; a few meters, just enough for her to detect the shifting, chaotic presence of another Magical Girl.

And then, jarringly, she was back. Her eyes were open, her limbs akimbo, but she kept herself still. It wasn't hard; she couldn't resist the levels of pain her blunette could, but veteran Magical Girls like herself were able to shut it off completely. Which is fine if you don't mind moving like a zombie. Since she didn't want to move at all, Kyoko had no problem with switching all the extraneous bullshit off.

She'd waited, patiently, unbreathing. Probably incapable of breath, she acknowledged. Something is definitely wrong with my chest. Every second gave her damaged body a little more time to reknit damaged nerves and tissue. She could have made her Gem materialize a spear and stick that bitch good, but that would have proven extremely uncomfortable to Kyoko, and she didn't really want to kill Homura. Not really, she reminded herself, flipping the switch back on and lunging at her opponent, a hideous gurgling scream erupting from her throat, the pain infinitely more grotesque in the flesh.

Clenching her good arm around Homura's delicate-looking throat, wrapping three quarters of the way around it, Kyoko grinned maniacally. At least she didn't mess with the face. "Rosso-"

Homura's eyes were wild as she thrashed backwards, feeling the incredibly strong but also horrifically wounded veteran's fingers slip, getting ready to literally put a stop to this once and for all. She brought her shield across, slamming it into the clutching arm. She felt her airway open as the fingers slipped further, sliding along the girl's neck as she pulled back, ready to-

"-Fantasma!" Kyoko growled, and instantly Homura was engulfed by a tide of bloody, broken veteran Puella Magi. Kyoko watched herself use her good arm to grab the girl's legs, leaning forward herself to get a better grip. Homura kicked and flailed, her motions surrealistically fast, but as one Kyoko was kicked off, another pulled herself back into the fray. Kyoko was grabbing her shield arm, pulling it back. Her strong arms had encircled the girl's slim waist, holding her down while she punched and elbowed and and chopped and clawed.

Homura felt fist after fist connect with every soft place on her body. The red-head fought with no finesse; she was in total pummel mode. The black-haired girl landed an elbow, and a solid knee to somewhere delicate, but it was impossible to tell if she was hitting Kyoko or one of the... clones, or whatever these things were. Her shield arm was pinned behind her, preventing her from reaching inside or striking out with it directly. These things weren't simply illusions; her ribs and face and groin were telling her that quite clearly. Then her hair got pulled so hard tears sprang to her eyes.

Kyoko pulled herself close, using the conveniently long hair Rapunzel-style to close the distance. Wincing, she raised herself on her bad arm, feeling bone in her chest grating uncomfortably. She brought up her good arm, and slammed her elbow down.

Suddenly there was a horrific *crunch* and the world seemed to be swimming in stars. Homura was drowning in pain. Choking, gagging, she lay stunned for a moment as her nose throbbed in agony, and felt something yank hard on her left arm. Warm, salty blood flowed back into her upturned head, draining from her nose into her throat. The hot, overpowering fluid threatened to choke her, and she couldn't control the sudden burst of panic. She tried to turn sideways, but something held her in place, and she gagged again, the metallic taste of copper filling her senses.

Another punch, and she cried out, a pathetic, gurgling sound accompanied by a spray of bloody saliva. Her shattered nose erupted in an all-consuming wave of agony. Her jaw seemed to burst apart into a million splintering shards of lacerating agony, and then all the pain and panic and worry washed away as everything faded to black. It's finally over.

"I win," a hideous voice rasped wetly.

Twenty minutes later, things were looking a little better for Kyoko, and light no longer shone through her chest. She could almost feel the crimson jewel that was her soul darken as she healed. She only regretted that she couldn't see it. Her body moved jerkily. Like a zombie, she confirmed. Or a drunk.

Everything according to plan, Kyoko thought in blatant self-deception, trying to convince herself that it was all part of the plan. But in the back of her mind, she was thinking, Holy shit that was close.

Gingerly, she sat up. She couldn't help glancing down, the gruesome, slowly-regenerating wounds mesmerizing her with a sick sense of fascination. Unwisely, she poked at it, her finger disappearing a good two centimeters before she stopped. Yikes. Right where her gem usually was.

She'd felt someone following her and Sayaka, way back in Motogawa. She was unable to pick out their pursuer, however, which meant they were probably good. It gave her an itchy feeling, so when Sayaka had left to return home for the first time in days, Kyoko had done what any good girlfriend would have done. She'd stealthily followed her, watching from a distance. To protect her.

She looked at the opponent who lay next to her, arms and legs bound tightly with some wire Kyoko carried around for situations just like, well, not like this, exactly, but for emergencies. Shifting uncomfortably, the red-head grimaced, glancing down at her makeshift seat. She looked up as Homura briefly struggled against her bonds before going still.

"Wakey wakey," Kyoko said sourly, her voice still not sounding completely normal in her head. She leaned forward, poking the girl mercilessly hard in the side, smiling at the transfer student's grunt of surprise and pain. She didn't expect any begging, or pleading, but she waited anyway, just in case.

She'd reset the girl's nose after binding her. None too gently. Purple splotches bloomed around the black-haired girl's eyes and down the sides of her nose. One eye was swollen grotesquely.

After a few moments, she shifted again, a slight metallic grating causing the bound girl's head to turn slightly. The red-head smiled as she heard the other girl's breath catch for a moment, undoubtly becoming aware of her predicament. "Homura, you have exactly one chance here. I am so not fucking around anymore."

Homura didn't respond, didn't even move. She lay on the cement, breathing through her mouth.

Kyoko felt herself snarling in frustration, but forced her face to relax. "Quit being a baby. Or a snotty little emo bitch. I can't decide which it is," she admitted, feeling like she'd scored a point when the black hair twitched. "Sayaka is mine, and you're going to leave her alone. One way," she paused dramatically. "Or the other."

"It never works, Kyoko. Never." Homura's voice was so tired and hopeless and icy, Kyoko nearly shivered. Instead, she frowned. "It'll be the same as always."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Homura's gaze was pitiless. "You. Her. It. Never. Works." She paused a moment, unclenching her jaw, feeling as if she were saying the words to herself just as much as the glowering red-head, before adding, "You'll see."

Kyoko grabbed a fistful of the still-bound girl's long black hair, forcing her head back and looking into her eyes from a few centimeters distance. "What do you mean?" Homura stared at her, eye purple and swollen, not defiantly but once again impassive. Empty. She yanked harder, making the transfer student wince and feeling just a little satisfied at breaking through her mask. "Tell me, dammit. What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"Walpurgis is coming. We talked about it. We were going to fight it together." Homura made a choking sound, her voice lost and mournful.

Kyoko let go, taking a step back and suddenly sheepish at the girl's abrupt change. It was like watching a wall crumble to the ground, or a building collapse. A part of her kept an eye out for trickery, but she wasn't a completely incompetent judge of character. And if there's one thing she was certain of, it was that Akemi Homura would never stoop to using tears in a way so many of Kyoko's long-ago classmates had, a denigrating and gender-stereotype-reinforcing form of manipulation at its most base.

Carefully picking a dozen or so strands of long black hair from her fingers, Kyoko shook her head. Was it something about her that made everyone get all weepy-eyed? She'd always been uncomfortable around tears.

"What, exactly, has changed? Why are you suddenly all psychotic? What do you have against Sayaka, anyway? And why aren't you answering my questions?"

Homura let out a breath, her lips channeling the blast up her face, blowing some of the hair out of her mouth and eyes. The red-head watched, trying to mask her impatience.

The raven-haired girl, sitting awkwardly and trussed up like an animal, appeared to undergo a violent internal struggle. Finally, she said, "You wouldn't understand."

Kyoko barely contained the urge to stomp on the truculent girl's face. Instead, she settled for rolling her eyes and sneering. "Don't be like that. A few days ago you can tell me all about the Super Witch and basically propose an alliance... and now you're trying to kill me? And Sayaka? At the very, very least, you owe me one hell of an explanation."

Homura took a deep breath, like she was going to say something.

The shadows crept forward infinitesimally as the red-head waited.

"I'm not trying to threaten you or anything, since I know that wouldn't work, but unless I start getting some answers," Kyoko paused, leaning in even closer to the transfer student's battered face. "I'm going to have to kill you." She said it with a straight face, immensely proud of her intimidation. Homura merely glowered back, as if daring Kyoko to do her worst.

"Wait here," Kyoko commanded, sparing one last glance at the tied-up transfer student. "Don't try anything: I've got your shield."

Homura was bound up pretty tight, and the wires were beginning to cut into the flesh of her wrists. She wasn't going anywhere. Still, Kyoko wasn't taking any chances. She put the blindfold back on. Homura made no comment.

"Just to be on the safe side," the red-head explained.

Homura heard something metallic clatter nearby, but it wasn't the hollow ring of her shield that caught her attention. It sounded more like a... She'd regained her senses quickly after Kyoko's brutal assault, but it had been too late. The wires encircling her wrists were excruciatingly tight, but she was confident that she could slip her hands through it, losing a portion of her hand and a few fingers in the process...

But she wouldn't. The least pleasant of a list of unpleasant things confronting her was the absence of her shield. At least the veteran hadn't taken her Soul Gem. She felt it, naked and exposed, and the thought made her uneasy.

Minutes passed and she slowly felt her battered body start to repair itself. She heard Kyoko approach her from the side, breathing more heavily than normal. Deft fingers untied the blindfold, and Homura winced at the sudden brightness of everything. Blinking back tears, she felt the other girl unwind the wire binding her hands, and a painfully intense feeling of pins-and-needles overwhelming her for a moment.

Homura wouldn't lower herself by shutting off the pain. Instead, she would endure the suffering that she acknowledged she so richly deserved.

Then, strong hands were rubbing and kneading at her wrists, easing the blood down her arms. The sharp, tiny stabs lessened as pressure was applied to her hands and fingers. A minute later, and she could move them again.

Her legs, however, remained bound. She gasped involuntarily as the red-head's hands slipped under her arms, lifting her up. Looking around, she saw her shield a meter or so behind Kyoko. In her head, she thought of it as Aegis, although Cronos might have been more adroit of a name. In some ways it was more than a friend, but deep down she'd begun to regard it as cursed. The source of all her suffering.

Kyoko saw her glancing down, and held up her forefinger, smiling. She turned and kicked the metal disc, sending it skimming across the rooftop. "Let's not get distracted." She grabbed the collar of Homura's shirt, leading her toward the edge of the building.

There was a meter high ledge running around the perimeter, about half as wide as it was tall. Kyoko stopped at the edge, beckoning the other girl with her head. "Go on." Homura's dull eyes glanced at the veteran, who nodded at the ledge again. Passively, Homura sat down on the hard surface, spinning to bring her bound legs up. Kyoko grabbed her shoulder and pushed her forward.

Despite her resolve, Homura tensed as she felt her legs dangle over the edge. Her breath sounded shaky in her ears.

Kyoko's hands withdrew. Homura glanced to the right as the red dress fluttered. The veteran grabbed the hem as she sat, adjusting. She looked out over the vista before her. "Nice view," she commented.

The sun was low in the sky, off to the west. Shadows seemed to cling to the streets below their hanging feet, stark in the last lingering hours of daylight. The great mirrored buildings rose up in the near-distance. Clusters of homes conglomerated into a neighborhood, the park below looking wild and vibrant amid the clean order of the city visible from their vantage point. They sat along the edge of the roof, Kyoko watching the shadows slowly stretch out over the city below them, Homura watching the red-head out of the corner of her eye.

Homura waited. Kyoko appeared oblivious to the questioning glances she began shooting her way. Get it over already, a part of her thought. Why the veteran hadn't killed her outright... she'd always likened the red-head to a cat, perhaps that penchant for cruelty extended toward playing with her victims.

Kyoko gave herself a great, extravagant stretch. She was sore! Her spine curved backwards, her feet sticking straight out into the air while her hands languidly rose, extending above her head with fingers intertwined. She ignored the several pops and crackles her limbs made during the process. Homura was outright staring at her now, and Kyoko felt just a little self-conscious all of a sudden, but stubbornly held the pose a few moments longer, eeking out every bet of tension relief she could get. A satisfied sigh escaped as she allowed her muscles to relax.

"You do that same thing, whenever you wake up."

Every one of Kyoko's finely tuned battle-relevant senses had been attuned to the black-haired girl since she'd returned to the rooftop. Nevertheless, she was startled by the uniformed girl's abrupt comment.

"Wha... How the... waaaaait a sec. Did you-"

"You sleep whenever you're too exhausted to stay awake. You constantly consume food. You have exactly one pair of clothes, including underwear." Annoyingly, Kyoko found her stomach rumbling and felt color start to warm her cheeks. Is she trying to get me to push her off? Kyoko thought in outraged wonder.

She was proud of her keen awareness of her surroundings; it was extraordinarily galling to think that someone had been, well, peeping on her! "You been stalking me? Homur-"

"You hate to sleep because of the nightmares." Kyoko felt the blood freeze in her veins. "Nightmares about your family. About what your father did." Her purple eyes were gazing off into the distance, clouded with some unacknowledgeable emotion. Kyoko's breathing had gotten fast and shallow, and her mind or body or whatever was in charge was trying to decide whether to react with raging violence or bitter tears. How did she know?

"D-don't you throw that in my f-face-"

Homura stared at her, eyes liquid pools of violet misery. "You eat because it reminds you of... happier times, even if you won't admit it to yourself." The red-head swallowed; it was a faintly nostalgic feeling, bringing to mind sharing treats with her sister. Blinking, she shook her head. "And the compulsive need to make sure none of it goes to waste is a reaction to the trauma you experienced during the period of starvation you and your family suffered as a result of your father's actions."

"What are you-"

Homura continued. Having reached a new conclusion, she was again an unstoppable force, even bound and broken. "You're clothes are so ragged and grubby because they're the last ones you have. The last thing you have, that was around when your sister Momo was-"

"DON'T YOU FUCKING! GRRRRRR," Kyoko caught herself, teeth clenched so hard she could hear the squeaky grind of chipping enamel. Homura looked a little wide eyed, shocked rather than frightened. Slowly, Kyoko pulled her back up, holding tightly to the dangling girl's arm. It didn't make her chest feel any better.

Homura sat where the red-head deposited her. Kyoko waited for the space of exactly ten breaths before continuing. "Don't ever, every bring that up again. Ever." Despite herself, Homura nodded obediently. "How the hell do you know that stuff?" Kyoko questioned. "You can't have learned any of that shit from stalking me-"

"I am not a stalker!" Homura interrupted with surprising passion. Kyoko blew a raspberry, intentionally forceful to maximize the spread of spittle. She chuckled as the black-haired girl blinked, recoiling.

"Whatever you say, it's just I watched you follow someone for over a mile just now, and I'm pretty sure I've caught you conveniently close to that pinkette whenever she gets in trouble... a whole bunch of times." Homura glowered, and Kyoko, trying to keep things civil, raised her eyebrows inquiringly.

"I... protect her." Homura stated. The veteran guffawed, wincing at the abuse this caused her ribcage. Calculatingly, the black-haired girl deciding to point out how Kyoko herself had been suspiciously close at hand to help the blunette out in her time of need. On several occasions, in fact, the most recent occurring at this very moment. But that would necessitate bringing up the whole killing Miki-san thing, and for the moment the transfer student just wanted to forget the incident.

"Whatever, I don't need to know all your creepy dark little secrets. What I need to know is, how did you know that stuff, and why did you try to kill us?"

"I know all that 'stuff', as you so eloquently put it, because you told me, Sakura-san. I know about your wish, your father's church, everything. You and Tomoe-san..." Kyoko's gulp was audible. How is that possible? I never told anyone about-

"You've told me, Sakura-san. Dozens of times. Not every time, of course, but..." she drifted off, feeling a perverse delight in the red-head's increasing frustration. "The answer is: I'm a time-traveler."

When Kyoko finally stopped laughing, wiping the tears from her eyes, she stood up. She'd fallen backwards off the ledge as the absurdity of everything had wracked her body. Holy shit this girl is totally messed up, she'd thought, pondering her next course of action.

But then, Homura had begun to talk.

The sun was significantly lower in the sky when she finally stopped, uninterrupted except for the occasional interjection by Kyoko that "I would never do that!" and more frequently, "Yeah, that is so me."

The veteran was trying to wrap her head around Homura's insanely complicated story. "A hundred times, huh? No wonder you're so messed up in the head," she said, only partly joking. Glancing at the sun, Kyoko guessed she was getting close to the time she was supposed to meet Sayaka in front of the mall. Her wounds were almost healed, and the damage that remained was neatly hidden beneath her black tank top. She asked the only question that seemed to be spinning around inside her mind.

"Every time?"

The purple gaze was steady, earnest. "Every single time."

Kyoko's mind was drawn back to glowing runes and a first kiss. No, this time is different.

This time is different.

And it's the only one that matters, anyway.

Very curious what you think about this one.

Thanks for your amazing comments!

xtra thanks to Shadowstealerr for the best present ever.