Chapter 50

Not Dead Yet

A car horn blared through the intersection.

"Watch the fuck where you're going!" Kyoko snarled, her furious glance taking in the wide-eyed woman behind the wheel of a car that avoided her by inches. Lightning quick, she lashed out with a frustrated kick, but the car had already passed.

She had to hold herself back from rushing after the retreating tail lights, for a moment wanting nothing more than to leave a melon-sized dent in something metal.

"K-Kyoko-chan…?"

Closing her eyes, the redhead took a deep breath. Then another. It was turning out to be a real shitty day.

"Ya know, this is turning out to be a really shitty day." Kyoko turned around, feeling only slightly annoyed at the disbelieving stare of the pinkette standing on the curb, back-lit by the lights of Mitakihara Mall. But then she noticed the hurt look in the shorter girl's eyes, and felt immediately guilty. And annoyed with herself for feeling guilty. "Ah, not that I don't appreciate your company, but… well-"

"It's okay," Madoka consoled. She knew just how on-edge the veteran was. "I know you're concerned about Sayaka-chan. I am too." Worried, she took a step forward after glancing up and down the street, a slim hand reaching out to pat the older girl's shoulder in a show of support.

Kyoko recoiled instinctively, jerking her shoulder back and retreating a step. Madoka nervously glanced around for any signs of impending cars, but the intersection was clear. She felt slightly wounded, but understood that some people, for some reason, didn't appreciate, didn't need physical contact. She didn't understand why, but she realized Kyoko was one of those people. Maybe. Except sometimes, with Sayaka… Shaking her head, Madoka clasped her hands together below her stomach, as if to ward off the uncomfortable feelings that bubbled up whenever she thought about her friend's new relationship.

Staring at the younger girl, Kyoko's sense of guilt redoubled, gnawing away at a stomach that had begun to churn with anxiety. A feeling that something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Earlier, Kyoko had made her way back to the Miki apartment in the orange radiance of the waning afternoon. The mall had been a dead end, the park, the benches outside of her stupid school… nothing. And that obnoxious leap in her heart every time she caught a flash of blue out of the corner of her eye was beginning to wear heavily on her nerves.

Not that feeling. The one that followed, immediately after.

When she realized it wasn't who she wanted it to be.

Deftly, she ascended the building, strong fingers gripping protruding ledges while nimble feet wedged into corners and pushed off nooks and crannies with practiced opportunism. For nearly a minute, she focused on her task so entirely that all of the concerns and hopes and increasingly insistent worries vanished. The exertion left her flushed, and she reveled in the feel of her burning muscles, pulling herself up and up, occasionally glancing down to the side street that ran below her.

Heart beating wildly, Kyoko reached the summit of her climb all too quickly. Holding her breath, she glanced into the window. The wave of disappointment that overcame her was like a punch to the stomach, and she barely recovered her grip in time.

What is wrong with me? Kyoko wondered. If Sayaka had been in her room, she would be all sorts of grounded. Better that she remained free, so that, once the redhead was finally reunited with the blunette…

A part her, gloomy and dark and usually ignored, despaired of ever seeing her friend again. She'd parted from friends before, never to see them again. Special friends.

Very speci-

She felt her face burning. How pathetically stupid, Kyoko. Falling into this… What? Trap? Relationship? Dangerous codependency? The thought did nothing for her mood, and changed the way she felt even less. Where the hell is she? Sighing, the redhead glanced down, looking for her pathway back to the street, and aggravatingly, torturously, her heart skipped a beat as she saw something stuck in a crack that ran along the windowsill. This time, the wild sense of hope didn't wash away in a wave of bitter disappointment.

With the same care as someone picking up a small furry animal with tiny, delicate bones, Kyoko reached forward and pulled out the wedge of paper, deliberately pocketing it in one motion. Unable to fully contain her sense of elation at this new development, the climb down was a lot less elegant than the ascent. Kyoko shrugged off the minor cosmetic damage. It's not like the ledges were load-bearing, and nobody was on the street below risking a face-full of tumbling rock.

Not that she'd been all that concerned, by that point.

Kyoko-kun,

Kyoko's face lit up in a smile.

Just in case, I'm leaving this note here for you. It's the only place I could think of right now, but hopefully I'll be with you in an hour and tell you everything. If you're checking up on me, I've left. My parents don't understand, of course, and were being difficult.

Holding up the note, Kyoko's gaze noticed the last word of that sentence had been changed, erased and rewritten. Underneath was the faint impression of something rather more insulting. She smiled, thinking of the blunette pausing as she wrote, frowning with that guilty conscience that could be so cute and so annoyingly aggravating. Erasing the word, writing the less incendiary description. Probably nodding to herself.

The redhead was more philosophical. Sometimes, it was parents' jobs to be assholes.

The rest of the short note was tantalizing.

I had to leave my phone; don't be mad if I didn't return your calls! I'm pretty sure I know where to find you. Hope you don't mind me tagging along after you for the next couple of days. See you soon!

Your Sayaka-chan

Kyoko sat down heavily, re-reading. Late afternoon sounds of traffic echoed off the buildings in the vicinity, a comforting white noise of city life broken by the occasional honk or infrequent roar of an airplane overhead.

Minutes ticked by as she sat. After reading the note for a third time, the veteran thought hard, undoing her ponytail and running dirty fingers through her sweaty hair, shaking it out. Her brow furrowed in concentration, hidden by a tangled veil of crimson, as she thought as hard as she could.

Sayaka!

Nothing. Kyoko grimaced. The ability to communicate with thought was a strange one, something she'd rarely used. She didn't know exactly how it worked, or why sometimes it happened and other times it didn't. Must be something to do with proximity.

Standing up, the redhead allowed herself a rueful half-smile. She hadn't really expected just thinking to the girl would work, and if it had she would have been pissed about the wasted afternoon anyway. Stretching to work out the kink in her back that had developed while crouching over the note intently, she thought about where to go next.

Pretty sure she knows where to find me, huh? Kyoko debated starting her little circuit over again, the mall, the park, the-

Her feet were itching to go. Move. Do something. The veteran became aware of the anxiety that seemed to be building up inside her again, the feeling that she needed to do something now, needed to find her friend immediately. Despite this powerful instinct, she was well aware of how futile her earlier wandering had been.

She just wanted to find her friend. Was that too much to ask? Abruptly, Kyoko remembered her phone, pulling it out but not really expecting anything. Sure enough, Homura had yet to respond to her earlier question. Questions. She typed another seven characters and a string of question and exclamation marks, then sent it. Just before she put the chunky device away, inspiration struck. Dammit, should have made sure I had her number.

Kyoko took off, shoulders squared in determination, heading in the direction of the only person she could think of that might be able to help.

As the day died brilliantly across the horizon, Kyoko approached the intimidatingly modern house. It looked even more imposing than it had the night before.

A wan-looking Madoka had answered the door, and Kyoko had launched into her speech despite the smaller girl's confused expression. When she got to the part about Sayaka running away, however, the pinkette had blinked and opened her mouth.

"Wha-a-at? Sayaka-chan did what? Where is she?"

Kyoko looked at the younger girl in consternation. "That's what I'm trying to ask you! You haven't seen her, heard from her?" The pinkette shook her head, a worried look creeping into her wide eyes. Red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes. Squinting, Kyoko took in the dried trails running down the girl's cheeks, the redness of her nostrils, her weary posture. "Are… you alright?" she asked, awkwardly, hoping that whatever was upsetting the girl wouldn't rear its ugly head in another fountain of tears, but also needing to know if Madoka was going to be of any use at all…

Madoka took a breath that sounded more like a sniffle before standing straighter. She took a step backwards, toward the stairway. "I'm fine. I'm going to grab a few things and leave my mom a note."

"Ah, okay, wait- what?"

Madoka turned from halfway up the stairs, feeling galvanized and eager to get out of the empty house, away from the thoughts that had been plaguing her for hours. Since the conversation this morning. Haunted, desperate to talk to someone about it, she cringed from the idea putting her worries into words. This was exactly what she needed. Something to do, to clear her mind. "You're worried about Sayaka-chan. I'm her friend, too. I'm going to help you find her." She shook her head, hitting the top of the stairs and turning toward her bedroom. "She's probably so scared and alone," the pinkette muttered to herself, throwing a few necessities into her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. Running away, what was she thinking? Why didn't she come here? Madoka shuddered at the thought of being out there, losing the safety and security of a home and a family beyond her understanding. She grabbed a light jacket before writing a neat note explaining the situation as vaguely as possible to her mother.

The redhead was pacing by the time Madoka descended the stairs, although it hadn't been more than a couple of minutes. "Well?" Kyoko asked brusquely. Madoka held up her backpack with a disarming smile. The redhead's expression remained impatient. "Ready?"

"Just about." The short pinkette walked to the kitchen, laying the note on the table and grabbing a few things from the cupboards and something from the fridge.

"Okay then, let's get going already!" the redhead called from the entryway.

Some of the impatience the veteran radiated began to bleed over, infecting Madoka. With a sense of urgency, she tied her shoes and put on her jacket. Kyoko was eyeing her with a strange look. "What? It's chilly out." The older girl had made a noise suspiciously like a snort.

Once they were striding away from her house, Madoka turned to look up at the veteran, whose face looked determined but below the surface seemed to twist with anxiety and worry. It made Madoka nervous. "So," she began. "Where do you think we should go?" Madoka watched, startled, as the older girl seemed to falter, stopping abruptly. Her shoulders slumped, and her head was suddenly hanging. "Kyoko-chan? What's wrong?"

"I… I don't know. I tried everywhere, seems like. I was hoping…I thought you might..." The horrible, desperate feeling Kyoko couldn't verbalize was nevertheless apparent in her voice.

Madoka unsuccessfully tried to contain the urge to pat the older girl's hand, earning her a blank stare. "We'll find her, Kyoko-chan. She's probably out looking for you right now! And with both of you looking for each other, it's twice as likely you'll find one another." Madoka smiled, but Kyoko looked unconvinced at the girl's math. "No phone, and Sayaka-chan isn't the kind of person who memorizes people's numbers, but... We'll cross paths, you'll see. There's only so many places she could be." The pinkette tried to convey all the optimism and surety she felt Kyoko needed, and was rewarded with a slight smile as the older girl gave her a sharp nod.

"Where do you think we might, um, find her?" Kyoko asked, unconsciously rubbing her hand and trying to appear nonchalant, but deep down hoping the pinkette had some kind of brilliant new idea she'd completely overlooked.

"Well, maybe we could try the mall first?" Kyoko groaned. "I know you were there before, Kyoko-chan, but it's later now, and she's probably getting hungry, and there are so many ways of passing the time there…" As the veteran allowed herself to be convinced, Madoka slyly added "And, of all the places in Mitakihara I'd go looking for you, that would be at the top of the list!"

Grunting, Kyoko turned and started the trek across town, Madoka smiling at her heels as she dashed to catch up. Dammit, the redhead thought in self-recrimination. That is exactly where I would be hanging out, if I wasn't chasing around town looking for a certain someone. Maybe, if I'd just stayed still…

Coulda shoulda woulda. No sense dwelling on that. Instead, Kyoko put it out of her mind by envisioning her blue-haired companion bent over something in the food court, shoveling rice and meat into her mouth with ravenous hunger. Smiling, her strides grew longer and faster. Where before she had felt driven by a sense of impending panic, now she felt motivated. Her smile became a grin, thinking about exactly how hard she was going to crush Sayaka in a hug that just happened to envelope that wonderful chest...

Madoka jogged behind the lean veteran, cheeks rosy and panting lightly, feeling immensely relieved that some of the darkness seeming to consume her strange, sometimes scary new friend had faded, leaving behind the old confidence and veneer of thoughtlessness. Smiling, the pinkette focused on keeping up with the determined older girl, watching Kyoko loping over the sidewalk with the careless, lupine grace of some predatory animal.

Sighing, Sayaka gave one last, regretful glance at the vending machine. The brightly colored bags and wrappers were lit up enticingly, the digital display scrolling through the snacks and treats. Her stomach rumbled again, and her eyes narrowed in annoyance. The darkness outside made it seem much later than it was.

It had been a long day.

The feeling of being watched came over her again. She glanced around, but, just as every time she'd gotten that feeling before, nothing drew her attention. It's just being alone. Getting jumpy, that's all.

The pitiful amount of yen she'd begun the day with had become truly pathetic. Lunch at the mall, the ride across town… this was pretty much it. She's gotta be there. Turning her back on the high-calorie/low-nutrition temptations, she waited patiently in line with the last of her money.

By the time Kyoko and Madoka had left the mall, darkness had fallen. As they stepped out into the crisp evening air, the pinkette fretted over the other girl's obvious tension as she hastily zipped up her bright pink jacket. "We'll find her, Kyoko-chan. I bet she's… hanging out at the park?" she finished doubtfully. It was dark, and decidedly cool.

Madoka watched in amazement as the redhead had walked right in front of a car, reeling back and lashing out with a leg as its horn cut through the night air in a shrill wail. It was like she could feel the veteran getting ready to lose it, and it scared her. Rushing to her side, she did her best to ignore the language and make the girl feel better. Kyoko stared at her for a long moment, looking embarrassed but mostly worried.

Madoka waited for the older girl to break the silence, sensing that nothing she said would be helpful at this point.

"Maybe. Maybe she's fighting a Witch. Maybe she's hurt, somewhere, or-"

"Kyoko-chan!" Madoka admonished, a thrill of fear coursing through her. "How can you say that? Sayaka-chan is strong, and smart." She swallowed. "She'll be okay."

"You don't know that," Kyoko muttered darkly, feeling petty but needing to express some of the thoughts swirling within her mind.

"No, I don't," Madoka began softly, but her voice grew louder and louder, "but I do know that acting surly and feeling bad for yourself and snapping at people who are trying to help you isn't going to help Sayaka-chan, is it?" Voice raised, it was like the words flooded out of their own accord. "Maybe it's you who doesn't know, Kyoko-chan! You… you think it's all about you! You're worried? I'm worried too! You don't know what it's like! How would you feel if you were told you were destined to become a Witch?!"

Kyoko reeled backwards, caught completely off-guard by the diminutive girl's outburst. "What? What do you mean, Madoka?" She stared at the pinkette's wide, glistening eyes. "What are you talking about, Madoka-chan?" she tried more calmly. It was eerily similar to things Sayaka had said.

The girl erupted in tears, and before Kyoko knew it the girl had buried her face into her sweatshirt. Awkwardly, the redhead gave her a half-hearted hug with one arm, patting her back briskly with the other. "Shhh. Hey, Madoka-chan, it's alright, you can tell me."

"I… it's just… everything is wrong!" Madoka gasped. "Homura-chan, and her story about… about me becoming-"

"But she said if you didn't fight-"

"She doesn't know! Nobody does!" Taking a deep breath, the pinkette wiped absently at her eyes with the back of a sleeve. "I… I had dreams. About… about Homura-chan…" Kyoko was suddenly staring at her intently, eyebrows climbing up her forehead. "Not like that," Madoka glowered. "Before I even met her. It's like, everything is already decided. Like it's destiny, for me to-"

"I'm going to stop you right there," Kyoko interrupted. "Nothing is set in stone, and you know it Madoka. If nothing else can convince you, just ask Homura. Things change. We can change them."

"That's not what he said," Madoka declared in an anguished whisper.

Kyoko frowned. He. "Are you talking about Kyubey?" she asked in disbelief. Madoka nodded miserably. "Why the hell are you talking to that creep? You heard what Sayaka said, and Homura too. And to actually believe whatever it's trying to sell you… Madoka, don't."

"But… he-"

Grabbing the pinkette's shoulders, the redhead stared the younger girl down. "Madoka. Don't. Believe. That. Thing." She waited until Madoka took a shuddering breath, nodding. "Now, tell me exactly-"

"Oh!"

A noise cut through the night. With wide eyes, Madoka pulled the phone from her pocket. "It's Homura-chan," she began, eyes flicking across the screen. Her expression turned disappointed. "She's almost done with whatever she is doing, but I guess she's tired and going to bed…"

Angrily, Kyoko stuffed her own phone back into her pocket, completely devoid of new messages. "Ask her what she's doing, and if she can find time in her busy schedule to help us."

Madoka dutifully translated Kyoko's sentiment, if not actual phrasing, with her thumbs.

"I really don't see why you had to come all the way over here," Homura protested, standing in the hallway of her apartment complex. Kyoko was looking at her funny, and self-consciously she began smoothing uncharacteristically disheveled hair.

"Homura-chan, please," Madoka begged. "We've been looking for Sayaka-chan, and thought you could, maybe, help us? If you're not too busy?"

Homura frowned in confusion. "Looking for… What happened?" Madoka gave the black-haired girl a summary, Kyoko adding a grunt here and there in agreement.

"This is inconvenient," Homura sighed. She thought both girls were overreacting, Kyoko probably drawing the impressionable pinkette into her emotional vortex. That blunette was really screwing with Kyoko's mind.

"Well," the redhead began casually, "if you're entertaining guests or something, don't let us interrupt." Kyoko smirked as Homura visibly paled. Gotcha. Madoka looked between the two, confused.

The black-haired girl stared purple daggers at Kyoko. "Don't be silly." Damn that redhead's big mouth! "But, if you're really worried… Let me grab my keys and I'll be right out." She opened the door casually, but slipped through before it could reveal much of the interior, quickly pulling it shut behind her.

Ever so quietly, Kyoko heard the deadbolt latch into place with an almost silent click.

Strange, mused Kyoko. She could have sworn she'd heard the girl whisper an exclamation before opening the door. It's Madoka. Or possibly Shit, Madoka. Akemi was a strange bird, that was for certain, but the redhead couldn't deny feeling an intriguing sense of comfort in knowing the girl would be helping her search for the missing blunette.

Not really missing. Just… not found, yet.

Three blocks away, Kyoko was nearly ranting. "So you can't be bothered to call me back, and you ditched her?"

"No, it wasn't like that," Homura sighed, looking at Madoka for support. The pinkette chose to stay out of it, staring intently at the buildings across the street. "Like I said, I was at the mall-"

"Doing what?" Kyoko asked rudely. Madoka half-turned her head in sudden interest.

"Uh… not that it's any of your business-"

"I like to be thorough."

"...but I was shopping." Homura's voice dripped acid. "Imagine that. Shopping, at a shopping center."

"What were you shopping for, Homura-chan?" Madoka inquired innocently, feeling intensely curious for some reason. "I thought you were getting ready for that job thingy, you said you couldn't-"

"I was shopping for clothes. For the internship. Happy?" The last was, of course, clearly addressed to Kyoko with a strong dose of spite.

The redhead's eyes narrowed. "What store?"

"What? Sakura-san-"

"You didn't buy any clothes," Kyoko scoffed, finding it impossible to imagine the girl outside of her rather dull, bland attire.

Homura blurted out the name of the store. Madoka's eyes got wide, and Kyoko whistled. "Well well well, little miss fancy pants!" Kyoko laughed, but Madoka was looking at her with amazement.

"Wow, that's like the most expensive store in the whole mall!"

"It is?" Homura asked, feeling a little ill all of a sudden.

"You should know. Even the cheapest blouses there cost more than most of my outfits! And their shoes are amazing! You're really taking this internship seriously," the pinkette said, impressed.

"Yes, well…"

"Mom said she'll take me there, ah, once I, you know. Fill out a little more," Madoka grinned self-consciously, feeling uneasy at Homura's expression. I didn't mean to pry...

Kyoko snorted to herself. "Fancy pants Homu. Hmm. I wonder where you got the cash for that."

Homura frowned, then with effort relaxed and gave the redhead a look of icy disdain. "Weren't we talking about Sayaka? I saw her after I was coming out of that store."

"And?" Kyoko demanded, successfully deflected for the moment.

"And that was pretty much it." Homura paused, thinking back to the short conversation. In all honesty, she'd been a little too eager to extricate herself from the blunette's attention. "She made some kind of joke about carrying my bags, or something." The black-haired girl shrugged.

"Huh?"

"Ah, something like, she'd carry my bags. I thought she was joking." Thinking back, though, she'd caught the blunette staring hungrily at someone eating a gigantic cinnamon bun. And she'd seemed on edge, but there was nothing really new about that.

"And then, what? She just walked away?"

"Not exactly," Homura began. "I… I got a call, you see, and, well… I had to leave."

"So you ditched her!"

"No, I didn't. I had a… a prior obligation-"

"You idiot, Sayaka's out there without a phone, unable to go home, and we're all trying to be friendly with your dumb ass and you just leave her-"

"I didn't know any of that, genius, she didn't mention-"

"How many words did she have a chance to get out before you conveniently had to leave?" Kyoko demanded, and even she could see the words had stung deeply.

Madoka had had enough. "Kyoko-chan, Homura-chan-"

"Why did she run away in the first place? I don't understand-"

"Dammit Akemi, how could you just-"

Sighing, the pinkette stepped between the two, raising her hands. The two fell silent, looking down at the imploring eyes.

Madoka's throat exploded in a shower of gore.

For a split second, Homura froze, uncomprehending, blinking at the sudden dampness running down her face. The pinkette's eyes grew wide, and the echoing retort of the gunshot seemed to punctuate the falling of her body as she collapsed, lifeless, at her feet.

"Madoka!"

Then, gunfire was all round them, sharp blasts coming from all directions. She found herself on the ground, dazed, the redhead pulling herself up from where she'd landed on top of her. Staring, horrified, she watched two more bright red holes blossom through the pinkette's jacket, her small body jerking with each impact, watched Kyoko dart out, grabbing the exposed body from the street where it lay. "Akemi!" the redhead shouted, but Homura felt lost, seeing the lifeless form of her friend cradled in the older girls arms, limp and boneless and bleeding…

Almost exactly like she remembered.

Kyoko barreled into a nearby doorway, kicking the solid wood open in a shower of splinters. She threw herself inside, tossed the younger girl's body behind a wall, none too gently, and in a flash of ruby light she turned around, transformed and ready.

She grabbed the Soul Gem from her chest, slipping the red ovoid crystal up behind the tight knot of her ponytail before charging out into the street. She bounded up with a magic-powered leap, feeling the pavement cracking beneath her boots, determined to find her attackers as she seemed to burst apart into multiple figures. Find them and kill them.

Homura recovered in the three seconds it took the redhead to reappear on the street. Standing up, she was surprised at the dark red blood staining her shirt; she hadn't even felt the hit. Transforming, she followed the other girl into the air, everything she had focused on finding the one who had shot Madoka-

There!

In tandem, both of the airborne Puella Magi picked their targets out and descended, unconscious mirrors of furious determination. Each shot drew their attention, bursts of fiery illumination coming from adjacent rooftops marking their opponents clearly. The echoing of gunfire grew more sporadic, two figures continuing to shoot as a third ran along the rooftop in the opposite direction. Kyoko cut and dodged through the air in defiance of physics, avoiding a volley of lead that the figure below sent her way. One by one, her illusionary doubles winked out of existence as they absorbed the bullets meant for her. She watched her attacker's face, another girl, of course, snarl in defiance as the rifle was hurled away, a pair of gleaming short swords materializing in her hands.

Homura descended far faster than her attacker's shots could compensate for. The black-masked girl watched as the final burst ricocheted impossibly off of the small shield the black-haired, crazy-eyed girl wore. The sniper's eyes widened as, suddenly, the angry-looking target was gone and something hard and cold and metallic was pressed against the side of her head. She began to spin around, knowing it was already too late, and she was right.

Kyoko heard the dueling gunfire from the rooftop of a nearby building go silent, but was focused entirely on her opponent, who was proving to be extraordinarily wily. Definitely another veteran. Snarling, the redhead sent a series of stabs and jabs at her attacker's chest, each dodged or fended off by the dual blades that spun through the air as if weightless. The girl was fast, and dressed all in black, and aside from her swords and the fact that she was about to be destroyed, that was all Kyoko knew of her. "Who the fuck are you?" she tried, punctuating her words with a sweeping arc of her spear. The other girl dodged backward, crouching warily, her eyes never leaving Kyoko's furious crimson gaze.

Her silent opponent leapt forwards, blades slashing through the air. Kyoko brought up her spear, spinning as it burst apart into a stream of chains, lashing out to entangle-

BLAM! The black-clad attacker's eyes went wide, and she stumbled and fell as she hit the ground. She let out a pained scream, one leg bent impossibly at the knee. She made as if to hurl a sword at Kyoko, but there was another BLAM and she spun over, a gaping crater appearing in her shoulder.

Frowning, Kyoko looked up as her spear reformed. "She was mine." Then, seeing the look in Homura's eyes, she let it drop.

"There's one left. She took off across the roofs, in that direction." Homura pointed with a finger, keeping the impressively massive pistol aimed square at the girl she'd just downed. Kyoko flicked her gaze to follow for a moment before coming to rest on the black-haired girl. "You can get her."

"What about…" Kyoko jerked her thumb at the figure in black, who's scream had faded to a keening moan.

"I'll deal with her." It wasn't Homura's expression that gave the redhead a chill, it was the lack of expression. And the subtle bloodthirstiness Kyoko could detect in her voice.

"Madoka?" Kyoko asked.

"Okay, I think." Homura's voice was dead. Icy.

Kyoko hesitated for a moment, then mentally shrugged. It wasn't on her hands. Giving the black-haired, cold-eyed figure a brief nod, she set off in pursuit.

"This is quite the predicament you've put yourself in. Me, too."

"Shut up, bitch." The girl had pulled herself up against the short ledge running around the roof, both legs ruined below the knees and only one arm fully functional. "Don't even try."

Homura stared at the girl. She had briefly stopped time and checked on things after taking down the first of the assassins, once it was clear Kyoko had engaged the other while the third had fled. The icy feeling of dread had melted at the sight of the strong color of her ring, and the subtle traces of re-knitting flesh that were already apparent around her terrible wounds.

She stared at the girl. Madoka was going to be alright. This assassin, on the other hand, was most definitely not.

"Kill me if you must. I'm not saying anything to you." The girl spat, trying to maintain a look of defiance. In truth, the pale, black-haired girl's icy stare had begun to unnerve her.

"Ooooh... I think death is the least of your worries. At this point." Homura leisurely bent down toward her shield, reaching in all the way to her shoulder. The captive's eyes widened as the arm seemed to disappear. Slowly, the purple-eyed maniac drew out a long, matte-black blade. Homura took a step toward the girl, who started despite herself. Smiling, Homura took another deliberate step.

"I've gutted an Incubator with this," Homura admitted casually. "Skinned it clean and stuffed it down a chimney." Her gaze became intense, purple lightning flickering behind the narrowed eyes. "Don't think I'd hesitate to do the same to you."

The captive girl's eyes were wide, looking up in obvious anxiety. "Y-you're f-f-fucking crazy!"

Homura watched the trickle of sweat run it's course down the side of a well-defined cheek. Reaching out, she drew the tip of the blade down that very trail, the captive's eyes shut tight as the razored edge drew a furrow along the path. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I believe you may be right."

The raven-haired Puella Magi didn't exactly enjoy the frightened whimper the other girl was unable to contain. But it told her she was on the right track, and, in that sense, satisfying.

"Who sent you?" The initial stubborn silence was no less anticipated that the ensuing scream of agony. Homura didn't bother trying to muffle the girl. Sliding the blade out, she grabbed a fistful of the girl's hair and yanked her head back. "Who." She reached back, pressing down with her fist into the grisly wound of the captive's shattered knee. "Sent!" She growled this right in the girl's ear, wanting her to hear what she was asking, even over her own screams. "You?!"

Homura ignored the suddenly pitiful weeping from the broken wreck before her, sitting back on her haunches. Casually, she wiped the blade off along the girl's outfit. After a minute, when the sobbing had ceased, the girl's arm darted across her body, grasping at her belly. Another sob wracked her as fingers failed to find their target.

"Looking for this?" Homura asked, holding up a silvery-white gem embedded inside of a bronze triangle. She sighed. Pulling out a spool of wire from her shield, set to work tying the girl's arms behind her back, eliciting another cry of pain as the shattered shoulder was forced back.

"Contrary to whatever desperate hope you may be attempting to hold on to, the police will not be arriving anytime soon." Time had been slowed since Kyoko was out of sight, draining her energy but giving her all the time she needed. "Your friend is as good as dead. My friend is better than your friend; she won't get away." Homura sighed. "You know, one thing about being a Magical Girl is that everything, sometimes it seems like every single thing, is a double-edged sword. The way our wishes are granted, and the inevitable tragedy that results. The ability to dull the pain, like you're doing right now. It's never enough, though. You'll feel it." Homura put her lips right against the girl's ear, talking over the frightened gasps. "You feel it!" she growled, angling the blade of the knife up to slide it right into a kidney.

"How much abuse can your body take?" Homura wondered, almost talking to herself now. The other girl was shuddering on the ground, groaning in misery, throat screamed raw. "How much extra suffering does that 'power' allow? But it's this," Homura said, holding up the other girl's Soul Gem. Frowning, she kicked the girl over, holding the gleaming object above her. That got her attention, Homura recognized, seeing the desperate look in prone girl's eyes. Not fear of dying; she wanted Homura to destroy her soul gem.

Which was smart. It was her only way out of this. Homura smiled. It hadn't taken as long as she'd expected.

"This is the worst part about the entire deal. In this," she said, bouncing the object in the palm of her hand, "is you. I don't claim to know anything about souls, or spirits, or ghosts for that matter, but for all intents and purposes, this is you." The girl was staring at up at her, wide-eyed and pale, face streaked with tears and blood, trembling. The rooftop was slick with it. "Protected. Giving you that edge that you need, against Witches. And plain old humans, for that matter. But, against another Puella Magi…"

"Y-you," the captive coughed, "sure like... the sound... of your own... voice."

"I'm afraid that you won't like what I have to say next," Homura admitted with a look of commiseration.

Long black hair fluttered across the sky, blotting out the view of stars as she stood up abruptly. Suspiciously carelessly, she dropped the knife beside the girl, holding the Soul Gem with both hands. As she let go, the sounds of the city seemed to come alive again, and faintly, in the distance, sirens could be heard. Homura walked across the roof, placing it in a far corner, then walked back. The captive's look of confusion didn't entirely mask the desperate concentration as she futilely tried to get her fingers around the knife that had been dropped behind her.

Homura chuckled darkly. Still got some fight. "Here, let me help with that." Bending over, ignoring the girl's protests, she picked up the knife, pressing it into her prisoner's palm and closing her fingers around the blade with her own. Then she savagely yanked the knife out, the girl's howl cutting through the night air.

"Against another Puella Magi, that Soul Gem becomes a terrible liability. The only reason it isn't against Witches is because, usually, they're too dumb to understand." The raven-haired girl paused, as if waiting for a sign of agreement from her captive, but the girl was struggling to contain her gasping sobs. "Someone who knows how they work… well, let's just say that your life is in my hands. And I mean that as literally as possible."

"Th-then kill m-me, you freak!" the girl blubbered.

"Oh no, no, that wouldn't do. See, I don't need you dead. I need to know what you know. And to get that… well, I have power not only over when you die. I have control over whether you die at all." The girl's eyes blinked, then became even more terrified as the implications set in. "And, unless you tell me what I want to know… Well, use your imagination. Sometimes, you find yourself in a situation where death is the only way out. Like, when you're captured about to suffer a long bout of torture at the hands of some kind of... freak." Homura took a step forward, but knew she wouldn't have to take another.

The girl broke down. "I'll tell you," she sobbed. "J-just d-d-don't-"

Impatiently, Homura waited for the girl's speech to become coherent. "Who do you work for?"

"I… I don't..! Wait! W-wait, no, it's… it's the Yakuza."

Shit, Homura thought, they found me. Somehow, she'd known this had been her fault. Somehow. Yakuza. "Why do they want me?" she inquired, thinking back to her stealing spree. Always her first stop when setting up for a new timeline, the Yakuza run was routine. How had they found out?

The girl at her feet gurgled unsettlingly, until Homura realized she was laughing. "You? Nobody said anything about you."

"What? Then who-" Pausing, Homura ground a heel into the shattered knee, feeling the bone grate against the cement rooftop. "Stop laughing."

"Kenichi Shinobi." The girl swallowed. "He's-"

"I know who he is." Homura was taken aback. "What does he want? Why did you try to kill… the pinkette?" No reason to use names, not with this filth.

"That little girl? She just stepped in the way. The redhead. Kyoko, she's the target. You two were just… an added complication. Who knew she had such… powerful friends?" the captive sighed, almost regretfully.

Kyoko."What did Kyoko do?"

The girl below her gave her a look that made Homura contemplate working her over some more. "I don't get told stuff like that. We get told who to take out, and we do."

"Well, not this time. You three, you work for them? On the Yakuza's payroll or something?"

The girl shrugged, wincing as her slowly re-knitting shoulder rubbed against the tight wire binding her. "Something like that."

In a way, it made sense. Puella Magi could adapt to all manner of problematic scenarios and rip apart mere mortal opponents. They would make excellent, and highly surprising, soldiers for people unafraid to commit acts of senseless violence. The undoubtedly lavish lifestyle and underworld protection was much better offer than a life on the streets barely scraping by, and the camaraderie, even of a gang of thieves, would help draw girls in.

Breaking out of her thoughts, Homura realized something. "Mitakihara isn't part of the Rikkimaru-gumi syndicate. Kind of far from home, isn't it?" The girl looked away, suddenly evasive, and Homura pressed the question, and several inches of blackened steel, deeply.

"It was something… they were tracked here! From Motogawa!"

Aha, thought Homura.

In an alley eighteen blocks away, Kyoko towered over a figure at her feet. The girl, dressed all in black like the others, lay pinned to the asphalt by the tip of a wide-bladed spear.

"Why did you attack us?" The figure's face was a twisted grimace, yet she still managed to pull off a sharp, barking laugh of disdain. "Quite the badass, I see." Kyoko reached for the spear.

"It's too late, you fool." The girl coughed wetly. "You're dead, you just don't know it yet. And your blue-haired friend-"

"WHAT?!" Kyoko shouted, grabbing the girl by the throat. "What about her?!"

"She's…" the girl wheezed, "she's already dead. Your friend's dead. Another team already made the hit, and I doubt she has two bodyguards following her around like you…"

Icy fear clutched at the veteran's insides. Dammit, she knew something was wrong! Hadn't she felt those eyes watching her, ever since coming back to Mitakihara? Even before. At the train station, if not earlier.

The gurgling laughter cut off as Kyoko's boot came down on the glittering crystal, the sound of crunching glass and a puff of white, ephemeral mist all that marked the nameless girl's passing.

Kyoko spared a moment to toss the body in a dumpster before heading back to the scene of the attack, hearing the sirens blaring in the distance, undoubtedly heading to the same place.

One thought kept playing through her mind as she sped back, the glowing street lights blurring into trails of blurry radiance. This is all my fault!

It has been way too long, I apologize for both the wait and any lingering rustiness. Thank you so much for the continued interest and comments, and thanks especially to broadwayfreak123 for giving me the gentle kick in the ass I needed to get writing again.

As always, your thoughts and ideas are appreciated. One thing in specific that I realize I do quite a bit; start the story in the middle or so and then go back and fill in what happened to get there. Is this confusing or annoying?