Chapter 46

The end of a beginning

The girl stood, kicking nervously at the tiled walkway outside of the open balcony, intimidated by the sheer size of the building and, just a little bit, by the taller girl in front of her. I can't believe I'm doing this, she thought to herself, wondering what had possessed her to traipse across town with this quiet, overdeveloped blonde.

Kyoko was hardly concerned with her own lack of curves; boys were the furthest thing from her mind. But something about the way this girl was so much further along the road to physical maturity made her feel an unfamiliar sense of self-consciousness.

Frowning, the redhead almost decided to go. The blonde, Mami, had unlocked the sturdy wooden door. The rectangular windows had their shades pulled, preventing the redhead from seeing what was inside.

Turning back for a moment to flash an encouraging smile in the direction of her new acquaintance, Tomoe Mami stepped into her apartment, touching something on the wall that caused all of the lights in the room to glow with a dim, elegant luminescence. Hearing a startled gasp, Mami turned quickly, already halfway across the room. Seeing the shocked look on the shorter girl's face, she nervously glanced around. A few pillows were out of sorts, and there was a terrific mess on the dining table, her homework spread out in disarray. "I apologize for the mess, Sakura-san," she said, hastily adding, "I wasn't expecting to be entertaining guests."

"Ehhh? Oh, um… it's fine," Kyoko muttered distractedly. This place was amazing! It was spacious; larger than any home she'd lived in before her father's recent… success. And, though the furnishings were few and far between, they were all elegant and and arranged perfectly.

Kyoko stood in the doorway, uncertain. "Please, honored guest, be welcome into my humble home," Mami said with a smile, beckoning the redhead to come inside. Kyoko shut the door behind her, taking a few tentative steps, trying to look around without being so obvious.

The place was immaculate. Beautiful, gleaming wooden flooring, the expensive kind where you could see the individual slats, woodgrain having the feel of the real thing, rather than the fake veneer she was more familiar with. The large room was sectioned off by furniture rather than walls; a book case here, a table there, arranged in interesting ways.

To her right was the kitchen, looking large, modern, and well-stocked, spice racks and glass jars of what she assumed was flour, and sugar, and whatever other mysterious things were used in the process of baking. Kyoko hadn't been interested in learning to cook; she preferred to consume rather than create food. Having spent years with so little available, she hadn't exactly had an abundance of opportunity to learn the art.

Adjacent to the kitchen, an alcove with a latticed window overlooked the Mitakihara skyline. A simple wooden table with graceful, curved legs was covered with two neat, organized piles. A stack of books loomed over a much smaller but still impressive stack of papers. A small desk with a mounted bookshelf resting on its surface lay against the wall; Kyoko noticed lots of books, a few picture frames on one shelf, and a globe resting on the top. Further along, there was a small sofa, and a delicate-looking wooden table.

The room was full of vibrant color; mostly green. There were pinks and limes and sky blues in many of the decidedly modern, geometric-looking paintings that adorned the walls, but most of all Kyoko noticed the plants.

Green erupted throughout the room, small containers giving rise to geysers of emerald leaf and snaking vines. There must have been a dozen different plants scattered throughout the room, their positioning almost strategic; no matter where she looked, there was always the feeling of being immersed in life.

"I'll just be a moment," Mami said, breaking the awkward silence and leaving the girl to continue her silent staring. The blonde didn't exactly regret her hasty invitation, but something about the girl's face struck her as judgmental, critical of what she was seeing. She slipped into her room, closing the door.

Alone, Kyoko felt suddenly even more unsure of herself. Where were this girl's parents? It was getting late; were they still at work? Frowning, hoping desperately that they wouldn't arrive to find her there, alone, forcing her to explain the situation… She glanced at the door nervously, but it remained silent.

And what was the situation, exactly? That was part of what caused her so much unease, not really knowing why she was here. Kyoko didn't have friends; the name-calling and picking-on having soured her to the idea long ago. It isn't easy being poor, but, as the Savior said, it is the meek who shall inherit…

This girl was certainly not poor. Her parents must be filthy stinking rich. Probably some advertising executives or an equally worthless occupation. Probably something corrupt, given the way their daughter tended to dress-

Just then, Mami came back into the room, drawing Kyoko's narrowed gaze. Here we go again, the blonde thought tiredly, waiting for another confusing outburst from the fiery redhead. But, to her surprise, the girl said nothing, her face clearing into a look of expectation as she remembered, exactly, the reason she'd accepted the blonde's invitation.

"Oh! What a terrible host I've been, Sakura-san," Mami began apologetically. She'd needed to get out of her school uniform as quickly as possible, the other girl's comments compelling her to change into something more covering. No sense in making her guest uncomfortable. She'd slipped into her favorite pair of old jeans, a white short-sleeved blouse and a emerald green sweatshirt zipped all the way up. "Let me get you some of that cake."

"And pie?" the uncomfortable-looking girl asked with almost a pained expression on her face. LIke it hurt her, physically, to ask. Mami laughed, and the other girl's frown deepened, taking it the wrong way.

"How could I have forgotten that? Of course," Mami said placatingly, continuing to chuckle. Supposedly, the way to a man's heart was through his stomach. Maybe, it was the same for this wild young Puella Magi- Mami turned towards the refrigerator, hiding a sudden blush that rose unbidden to her cheeks. Not in that way, she thought reproachfully. I'm spoken for.

But it would be oh so nice to have a friend…

Someone like herself, someone she could talk to…

Ruefully, the gunslinger realized the futility of her hopes. The redheaded young trespasser had made her opinion of Mami quite clear. Turning around, Mami was confronted by a voracious-looking Kyoko, who was having a hard time containing her sense of anticipation. The recent influx of worshipers to her father's church had seen the coffers fill, but every yen seemed to go into the massive restoration project her father had envisioned. A sanctuary so beautiful, it would make angels weep, he'd said. Awed, and a little downtrodden at the same time, her mother and sister had accepted the importance of the man's vision. If it meant little more than rice and pickled vegetables for dinner, it was a small price to pay to do the Lord's work.

It had been a long, long time since Kyoko had enjoyed a good slice of pie.

Mami saw the girl's eagerness clearly, despite her attempts at maintaining a stoic expression. Smiling, she put down a cardboard box with a fancy label, and an uncut, frosted cake that sat on a glass platter. She efficiently went about the task of preparing the dessert before her audience of one, taking great pleasure in drawing out the task. First, she grabbed two plates, one smaller than the other. With economical motions, she sliced first a piece of cake, placing a large, four inch slab on the smaller plate. On the larger, she scooped out a heaping wedge of pie with a deft display of fork-wielding prowess. The portions were ridiculous; she'd never offer so much even to her friends. But something about the hungry, almost child-like look of eagerness on the girl's recently forbidding face left her no choice.

Kyoko licked her lips.

Mami placed a spoon, knife, and fork on a cloth napkin retrieved from one of the innumerable drawers below the counter, sliding them toward the redhead. Then she went back to the refrigerator. Opening the freezer, she took out another box, and moments later two large scoops of vanilla ice cream began the slow process of melting into the peach filling that was gradually leaking from the pie.

With a beaming smile, she picked up both plates, setting them down before the ravenous-looking girl hunched over the counter, and stepped back.

Without a word, the redhead dug in, heedless of the golden eyes that were watching her, strangely fascinated. She used her fork to slice off a terrific hunk of the chocolate cake, stuffing it into her mouth and reveling in the explosion of sweetness as the gooey caramel melted with the thick chocolate frosting and even thicker layer of fudge. The puffy, almost insubstantial cake seemed to disintegrate inside her mouth. "Mmmh," she complimented, carving off a small chunk of ice cream and popping it in her mouth, the cool vanilla mixing with the chocolate and caramel in a heavenly alchemy of deliciousness. She took another bite of cake. Then, just as she was thinking of how nice it would be to have something to wash this down with-

Watching Kyoko devour her cake, Mami felt the joy of bringing a small slice of happiness to someone through her culinary passion. She thought she was a good cook, but recently she hadn't had the opportunity to share her creations with anyone except the occasional teacher during the holidays. A nagging feeling, like she was forgetting something, tore her thoughts away from an intense feeling of validation, and she forced herself to turn away, opening a cupboard and reaching back into the fridge.

Kyoko eagerly reached out, grabbing the tall glass of milk out of Mami's hands before the blonde could set it down. Taking a big gulp, she sighed contentedly. "This is really good. Th-thanks." She didn't see Mami's surprised look, instead focused on getting as much pie as she could to stay on the end of her fork.

Eventually she gave up and picked up the spoon.

Mami watched the girl devour the pie, and the cake, and the ice cream, pausing only for the occasional sip of milk or gasping breath. Occasionally, the girl wielded both spoon and fork. The blonde couldn't help smiling to herself, feeling somehow fond of the gluttonous girl. When the redhead gave a little belch after she'd finished, leaning back with a long sigh, the gunslinger had let out a delighted laugh. "Excuse me," muttered her guest, blushing.

"Sakura-san, are you blushing?" Mami prodded in amusement, eliciting a further coloring of the girl's cheeks. The blonde felt her own heating up from her merriment, and was struggling to contain a sudden fit of giggles.

"I…" Kyoko paused, halfway between apologetic and defensive. "That was delicious. You are a good cook." Mami beamed. "Did you learn from your mother?"

The blonde's face kept smiling, but Kyoko noted with alarm that the amusement had left the girl's golden eyes in an instant. "Where is your family, anyway?" she asked, looking around as if they were about to suddenly appear in the room behind her.

Mami quickly swept up the plates, not quite licked clean, but certainly requiring minimal pre-scrubbing. She made a show of putting everything into the ultra-efficient dishwashing unit below the counter, trying to compose herself. Was it ever going to get any better? She felt a sudden need for her senpai's arms, the distance separating them stretching out like a vast abyss as never before.

Kyoko, meanwhile, was feeling an increasing need to leave. Something she'd said had offended the blonde, or done something, and it was making her uncomfortable. Resolving to make a quick exit, she was just about to stand when Mami turned back to her, eyes glistening with pain.

"I never had brothers or sisters. My parents… p-passed away."

Kyoko's eyes were wide. "You live here on your own?"

Mami frowned, a tiny spark of anger flaring inside her. "Yes. I do."

"How can you afford it?" The blonde stared at Kyoko incredulously. "How do you pay for your rent, and food?" she clarified.

Taking a deep breath and giving her extraordinarily curly pigtails a frustrated yank, Mami answered, rather shortly, "That's none of your business."

The redhead, amazingly, looked offended. She muttered something villainous under her breath.

"Sakura-san," Mami tried, feeling unnaturally exposed to the girl's callousness. "I just told you something about myself that I've shared with almost no one else, a-and… you ask m-me how I can a-afford this?!" she finished, her voice wavering at the end as she spread her hands, indicating her apartment.

"Well, it's so nice…What? I'm just curious."

"I don't care about any of this! I'd trade it all in a second and live on the street for the rest of my life if it brought my parents back!" Mami didn't like how her voice was rising, and sounding shaky with emotion.

Kyoko eyed her thoughtfully. As if this pampered creature would be able to survive homeless. It was obvious, however, that she felt passionately.

"How did they die?" Kyoko wondered if that was the wrong way to express interest, but she was curious. The slight narrowing of the golden eyes confronting her, the little furrow of wrinkles as her brow knitted, were gone almost before she could register them.

"It was a car accident." Mami had an agonized look in her eyes, an expression that made something inside Kyoko want to comfort her. "Drunk driver." Nearly a year, and if anything, it hurts worse now that it did the day it happened...

Kyoko sighed, trying to look consoling. The truth was, she was unable to imagine a life without her mother and father. And Momo. They were eternal, her father the solid foundation, and they walked the path laid down by the Savior, the entire family. Their faith protected them. God protects us. Isn't Father one of His greatest servants? "I'm sorry for your loss, Tomoe Mami. What you're not realizing, though, is that they're with God now, in a better place-"

"Please!" Mami said sternly, all friendliness having disappeared from her expression. "Don't… look, I know you mean well," the blonde sighed. "It's just… I don't want to hear-"

"The truth?" Kyoko asked angrily. That's all she'd been saying. She glanced around; not one cross on the wall. Maybe she was upset about it because she wasn't a true believer, and that her parents were even now burning in Hell.

"Is it, though?" Mami asked herself softly. Before Kyoko could continue her angry tirade, she held up a hand. "I do not want to continue this particular conversation anymore. Not now, at least. Maybe you could tell me a little about yourself?"

Kyoko felt the heat inside her turn guilty at the blonde's hopeful question, but didn't want to share details of her precious family with little more than a stranger. "How about you tell me how long you've been a Magical Girl?"

"Nearly a year. You?"

"A little less. So… guns, huh?"

"Yes."

"I like to get up close, look my enemy in the eye," Kyoko boasted. Mami grinned at the comment.

"I noticed. You are certainly fierce enough to go toe to toe with a Witch," she praised. "I wouldn't care to get that close, myself." It wasn't entirely true, but if it made her feel better…

Kyoko's face lit up with a proud grin. "Still, though, you're guns are very… effective. I like how you made a bunch of them."

It was Mami's turn to feel a burst of pride. "Well, they're only good for one shot, being flintlock rifles." She giggled. "It wouldn't do to stand there, reloading the thing while Familiars tore you apart."

Kyoko abruptly realized she was sitting and Mami was standing. She glanced around, noting the lone couch, none too wide, and a very few chairs scattered throughout the room, looking more functional than comfortable.

"Would you care to adjourn to the living room?" Mami asked with a teasing grin. She found it amusing to consider the large room actually several separate rooms that were simply free from obstructing barriers. Since she lived alone, it worked.

"Um, okay," Kyoko said, suddenly feeling awkward. She stood up, and grabbed a chair from the nearby desk, dragging it near the couch.

Mami was puzzled. "You can sit on the couch, much more comfortable," she tried, but the redhead was already sitting in the hard wooden chair.

"This is fine," the girl muttered.

"Alright." Mami sat down, luxuriating in the soft cushions for a moment. What the guest wants is what the guest should receive.

"So, why those guns?" The blonde blinked at the shorter girl's question. Kyoko interpreted the pause for confusion. "Not why do you use guns, that's obvious. Why those guns? Ancient, and old fashioned and… un-reloadable," she finished with a shrug.

Mami thought to herself for a moment. "I… I guess I've never thought about it. It's just, when I imagine guns, I think back to the early ones, the ones that had such a tremendous impact on our society. It was Christians," Mami recalled suddenly, "who were some of the first to smuggle in guns, and when the peasants were armed…" she broke off, realizing her grave error. She'd specifically not wanted to discuss religion, but here she'd brought the damn thing up again!

Staring at her, leaning forward, Kyoko's eyes were suddenly intent. "Yeah? What happened next?"

Mami's eyes grew wide. "All sorts of killing, naturally. The daimyos, at least the non-Christian ones, suffered grievously from the revolts, which eventually forced them to modernize their own armies. It was a slow but steady demise for the samurai from that point on." The other girl was still looking at her eagerly. "It's just history. Didn't you learn about stuff like that, and the Sakoku policy, how during the Tokugawa period Japan was closed to foreigners?"

"No," admitted Kyoko, squirming in her chair. "I… I've been home-schooled. For a while, now."

"Oh." Mami tried to mask how startled she was; she didn't know anyone who didn't attend real school. Suddenly she was grinning, realizing that since everyone she knew, she knew from school… of course she wouldn't have met anyone who hadn't attended. "That sounds interesting. What's it like? Does your mom test you on things?"

"Basically," Kyoko evaded. "What was that about Christian daimyos? What did they do?" Mami smiled, opening her mouth. "And you talked about samurai." Nodding, Mami wondered where to begin. "What about... the ninja?" Kyoko whispered, as if discussing something forbidden.

It's like talking to a boy, Mami thought in wonder. Ninja! "Well, the ninja were not part of the political structure, and were able to adapt more readily to the changing conditions…"

Nearly two hours later, a hoarse-voiced Mami was ready to call it a night. Her guest had been full of questions, so curious, and the gorier the better. Gazing at the slumped form of the other girl, Mami thought Kyoko looked ready to pass out.

The redhead had been pleasantly drowsy, up until the moment the taller girl asked if she wanted to spend the night. Instantly wide awake, she'd hastily explained that she needed to get home as soon as possible. She glanced around, seeing the time, and felt her jaw drop in amazement. I've been here that long?!

"I'd better get going." Standing up, rubbing the stiffness out of her calves, Kyoko felt the weariness already beginning to settle over her again. She needed to make her escape, and quickly. "It's been… interesting. Um, thanks again for the pie."

"My pleasure," the blonde grinned before covering a yawn with a hand. "Excuse me," she apologized. "Well, at least let me call you a cab." By this point, Mami was absolutely certain Kyoko didn't have two yen to rub together.

That simmering anger, always close to the surface, threatened to boil over. "Don't worry, it's fine." Kyoko had two thoughts on charity. There was the good kind, like when the church organized a fundraiser for some penniless widow with children, seeing the look of gratitude on the woman's tired face as her father handed her the check… and the bad kind. It was entirely different when you were the one doing the thanking.

For, despite his words, Kyoko's father had set a poor example. It was no wonder the girl was full of the deadliest of all sins, the greatest. The sin that laid low even Lucifer, the Morningstar, the angel who shone brighter than all the rest.

Mami sighed at the stubborn pride in the girl's crimson eyes. It wasn't safe out there, and the chill of winter lingered in the air. "Alright, I won't," Mami lied. "But," she continued, a sudden thought inspiring her, "since this is your first visit, custom demands a gift." I'm so bad, she congratulated herself, reveling in the feeling. Kyoko fidgeted anxiously, feeling an acute sense of shame. She had nothing to give, she didn't know about this stupid tradition, it wasn't fair, she was tricked! The wretched feeling simmered into a more palatable lukewarm anger.

"Hold on a moment, let me get it," the blonde went on, standing and walking back to her bedroom. Kyoko sat, staring. Wait, she's giving me a present? Suddenly, tradition didn't seem like such a bad thing.

She came back a few moments later, something wrapped in tissue and tied up with a bright red ribbon. Kyoko eagerly stretched out her hands, and Mami laid the fist-sized, heavily wrapped object in her palms.

"You don't get to open it," Mami cautioned sternly as the redhead began to undo her beautiful, hasty ribbon-job. Kyoko stared at her in shock. What kind of gift can you not op-? "Until you get home."

The redhead shrugged. "Thanks. Again, I guess." She smiled, slightly and hesitantly, but Mami was certain she detected a trace of genuineness in it.

"If you ever find yourself back in Mitakihara-"

"I won't," Kyoko said confidently. She had no intention of returning to this dump of a city, and now she knew not to step into other peoples turf. She glanced toward the kitchen, missing the hurt, dejected look in the golden eyes of the girl before her.

"Um…" the redhead hesitated. She absolutely had to do this, but it was way too close to begging for her comfort. She'd been tempted to just grab it when the blonde had disappeared, but she was no thief. "Say… would you mind if… if I had anothersliceofcake?" she finished quickly, wanting to get it over with. As the taller girl continued to stare, she added, "For the road?"

Slowly, Mami walked over to the kitchen, returning with two thick slices of cake carefully placed within a sealed plastic container. "Oh, wow. Two… that's too-"

"Don't worry, it's fine," Mami muttered, and when Kyoko gave her a strange look she quickly added "I have plenty more. And now I know to keep the recipe!" She tried to smile naturally, but her enthusiasm felt flat.

"Okay. I… uh, bye." As the redhead opened the door, a gust of chilly air cut through the room. Kyoko visibly shivered. Ah, crap.

"Sakura-san? It's too cold out there, in this weather you'll drain too much of your power trying to keep warm." She unzipped her emerald sweatshirt, and Kyoko found her eyes roaming inexorably towards the blonde's tight, revealing shirt, tiny buttons seeming to strain-

"Please, if you won't let me call you a cab, at least wear this. For my own selfish piece of mind," Mami added, imagining the burgeoning protest in the other girl's narrowed, angry-looking gaze. Just the thought of accepting something… she can't even meet my eyes! "Please?" She held out the thick sweatshirt, and grudgingly, Kyoko put it on.

Instantly, she loved it. It was thick and warm, and it had the softest fuzz she'd ever felt on the inside, everywhere but at the cuff, which felt nice and snug. Her hands must not be as over-sized as the rest of her anatomy, Kyoko thought, feeling a little petty and mean the next moment. Zipping it up, the thing just seemed to hang off her shoulders comfortably. The only part she didn't like was that it had a hood. Her thick, shoulder-length hair was more than enough.

She decided to humor the blonde, and headed out into the night.

Mami stood at the doorway until the girl turned the corner, heading toward the elevators. She sighed. Didn't even look back. Oh well. It had been the most interesting night she'd had in a long time. And, not only that, but she hadn't spent the evening wallowing in self-pity. She shook her head; Sakura Kyoko had been a strange, but certainly intriguing person.

It made her sad to think she'd never see the redhead again.

Oh well, she thought again, trying to snap out of the distinctly crushing sense of loneliness that threatened to overwhelm her. At least she liked my cake! Dabbing at an eye, Mami glanced over at her homework at the table. Her essay needed to be proofread and edited a final time, the math should probably be double-checked... but her sense of urgency at the task had long since vanished, and instead she turned off the lights and went to her room, grabbing something from the freezer along the way.

Several hours later, a green-hooded figure stumbled up the small flight of stairs, bending down to retrieve a key from under the doormat that read GOD BLESS. She quietly opened the door and slipped inside her home, tiptoeing across the living room and upstairs to her room. Pausing at the door, she turned around and sneakily crept back downstairs, thoughts of ninja dancing through her imagination. Retrieving a utensil from a kitchen drawer, she crept back upstairs. She wanted to hope, at least, that there was some milk in the refrigerator, but knew better than to bother checking.

Silently, she slid into her room and shut the door. The shade was open, the last hours of darkness illuminated by the crisp light of a nearly-full moon. Clear and cold, the journey home had left Kyoko with a red, numb nose and aching legs.

She paused, smiling. The small, pale child laying in bed shone with a ghostly pallor, her hair looking pale and pink in the moonlight. Her face was troubled. Bad dreams again. Kyoko approached, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Shhh." As she stroked her sister's hair, the little girl's eyes opened.

"Kyo? What?" She seemed near tears. "Is evewething okay?"

"It's fine, Momo."

"I'm hungwy," she said. Kyoko bit back on a flash of anger.

"Didn't Mom get you something for dinner?"

The little girl shook her head. "She was with Daddy at the sanctuwawy."

Kyoko took a deep breath to steady herself. "I brought you something." She took out the plastic container, unsealing the top. Momo sat up, her hair in disarray, sniffing loudly. "It's chocolate cake-"

"Cake!" cried the girl, reaching out eagerly. Kyoko, grinning, let her sister take the container. She snorted when the younger girl grabbed a piece and picked it up, stuffing a portion into her mouth. "MMmmghfhh."

"Exactly," Kyoko agreed. She held out the fork, tines toward her, and Momo took the hint.

Not exactly the breakfast of champions, Kyoko acknowledged. But it was a perfect midnight snack.

Momo polished off both slices, repeatedly offering to share with Kyoko, who waved the idea away. "It's all yours."

When she was finished, Momo rolled over, laying on her back, a tiny hand on her little belly. "Thank you so much, Kyo. You awe the bestest sista evah!"

"No, you are!" Kyoko growled, leaning over to tickle the girl.

Giggling, she cried out, "You awe!" After a few moments of this familiar game, silence descended again. Momo's eyes refused to stay open, despite the recent influx of sugar, and Kyoko watched her sister fight a losing battle with exhaustion.

Strange day, Kyoko mused. Too tired to move, she decided to sleep with her clothes on. She looked at her sister, still so thin. The look on her face, peaceful and once again carefree, gave her a comforting, warm feeling, and she closed her eyes, hand clasped around a wad of ribbon-adorned tissue in her pocket.

I hope Momo's speech impediment wasn't too annoying. Give her a break, though, she's young.