Chapter 56

Tuning Up

Events are once again approaching the critical juncture, and things are spiraling out of my control.

Kyubey gave its head an angry shake. Terrible habit, talking to oneself. It signaled a lonely, unsound mind. Loneliness was a pitiful trait, utterly unbecoming of an Incubator.

Damn them for cutting me off-

A bushy white tail flicked in annoyance. It had always been a risk; contamination was an ever-present danger to a dimensional traveler, especially when immersed in societies of lower lifeforms. It knew exactly what it had been getting into.

That doesn't make it fair.

Catching itself yet again, Kyubey felt a sneer building. Fairness! An imaginary irrelevance of a lesser species. Focusing upon its target, the creature listened intently to the scene playing out below. As one sense honed in on the conversation, another was sampling the flavor of the beings, excitement and discomfort and yearning each a distinct taste to its telepathic palette.

"Where have you been? Lots of us have been worried sick, Sayaka-san." A pause, and the figures briefly merged. "I'm really happy to see you!"

Ruby eyes narrowed at the miniscule figures clustered on the street, far below. Something was strange about the grey-haired boy. His aura was calm, contained; nothing like the chaotic jumble of conflicting thoughts and feelings of the other humans walking past him on the street, or the two colorfully haired girls standing next to him. It was almost fascinating; at any other time significant effort could have been spent studying the anomalous phenomena. Now, however, was not the time to indulge in scientific curiosity.

Soon, such observations would be pointless, anyway.

The data had been prescient, up until a point. Congratulating itself once again for the sheer cleverness of the plan, Kyubey felt a warm glow of pride replace the growing unease that had been building up.

From the instant the Incubator had received the message, just a few short months ago, it had known it stood at the pinnacle of a long history of cunning. The threshold of something truly great, stupendous. Marvelous, except for the fact that if the plan succeeded, there would be no one to marvel at its achievement.

"Oh, h-hey there, Kyousuke." A delicious swirl of a dozen emotions, gritty and confused.

"Hi, K-Kyousuke!" A sun exploding in rainbows, vivid joy and excitement, twisted with nervousness.

The comforting sense of pride began to wither as it began to consider other factors. It was an unpleasant practice, a repetitious cycle that led nowhere conclusive. Something, somewhere, had gone wrong. The Incubator found itself in the same position it had been such a short time ago: uncertain. The message had provided a wealth of information and hypothesis from a mind so brilliant it was obviously equal to Kyubey's own.

"Ah, hello to you too, ah…" Embarrassment. And then, a brief, profound sense of relief. "Kaname-san."

But things had begun to go wrong. Entropy had crept within the carefully controlled system. Staring down at the specks of blue, pink and grey, Kyubey felt itself getting ready to heave a sigh. Furious, it resisted the temptation, another annoying habit picked up from-

Scarlet fire raged behind the twin orbs that stared down, unblinking. I do not pick up things from meat-based life! Even inside its own head, Kyubey's thoughts sounded defensive. The fact was, recently its mannerisms had been less and less behavioral camouflage, more akin to stimulus-response.

Growling, the Incubator forced its mind along different paths. One of the Known Unknowns was the dilution of the power it had felt in the Kaname girl. The vast potential it had sensed within the unassuming and unremarkable pinkette had exceeded its wildest expectations just as the data had indicated, but since she'd Contracted, the reality was far from the initial prediction. Still extraordinarily powerful, but not the meta-being it had been expecting based upon the past data.

Without the immense well of power to draw upon, the Kaname girl would not be able to single-handedly overcome Walpurgis, something the records indicated was a possibility. Which suited its purposes perfectly.

Another was the Miki girl's unnerving displays. Clearly, the manipulation of her phylactery had resulted in a level of unpredictability beyond the expected parameters. The exhibited quantities of energy manipulation the girl had demonstrated, not to mention the recent instance of reverse energy transfer, were perturbing developments. That fact that it had not occurred in any of the previous timelines was worrying. Even more perplexing was the girl's new-found tenacity, the change of her mindset. Something to do with the Sakura girl, in all likelihood. The girl should have undergone her metamorphosis by now and been a vital tool to use against the others, rather than a hindrance to its plans at every turn.

There's only one I truly need, Kyubey acknowledged, its thoughts focusing on the target, the vessel of its hopes and hatreds. Everything depends on her. For hundreds of years, the girls had blended into one another, like so many cattle on a ranch. Row after row of produce to be cultivated and harvested, necessary for sustenance but uniformly uninteresting. That the plan now rested on the actions of one girl was simultaneously richly ironic and profoundly worrisome.

As the group split apart after several minutes of uninteresting conversation, Kyubey rose, stretching unconsciously. Even as the three had stood, idly communicating about their banal lives, the Sakura girl was pacing around inside a familiar building. Nemesis-Akemi had disappeared inside her apartment some time ago, and had yet to emerge.

In the meantime, there was work to be done.

Sayaka laid the last of her outfit down. "You're sure you don't want to come with us?" Kyoko saw the disappointment inside the blunette's eyes, heard the slight pleading tone in her voice, even through the sparkle of excitement she radiated.

"Nah, I'll catch up to you," Kyoko grinned disarmingly, masking her unease with the old standby: bravado. She'd never been to a salon in her entire life; no reason she felt like starting now. The redhead had a feeling that, if Sayaka picked up on her reservations, it'd spoil the evening. The redhead was determined to be a good sport, so she smirked knowingly. "I gotta get ready, myself."

Saying the words seemed to summon the gut-twisting anxiety that had lain, dormant, ever since Kyoko realized Sayaka had tricked her into going out to some fancy event. Pretty much tricked, she thought to herself. Basically.

"Make sure to take your phone," Sayaka reminded, ensuring her own was close at hand.

"Duh. I'm not stupid, I… wait a sec." Kyoko's hands roved across her pockets. "Uh, have you seen…?" Frowning at Sayaka's snicker, she glanced over where the girl was pointing. Walking over to the kitchen with as much dignity as she could muster, Kyoko opened the fridge, spotting her device laying on a clear plastic shelf next to the cheese.

Kyoko turned around, looking serious. "Stay safe."

Grinning, the blunette returned the sentiment. "You too. Thanks for this, Kyoko-kun, I'm so excited to go out and see a concert. Especially since, this time, I'll be with you," she added. "I hope you like it; they can get a little… long, sometimes. Are you sure you don't want to get your hair done-"

"Nah," Kyoko answered, a little too quickly. "I'm going to, you know, get something to wear." Lacking any formalwear, Kyoko had helped Sayaka pick something out from Mami's closet. The blunette had settled on an elegant white blouse and a tight black skirt. Kyoko thought the younger girl filled out the clothes nicely.

Everything had been too big for Kyoko, the shirts almost comically over-sized. Or stretched. It hadn't hurt as much as she'd thought, digging through the blonde's clothes. It have actually been kind of fun, playing dress-up with Sayaka.

"Alone? Why not come with Madoka and me?"

Suppressing a groan, Kyoko smiled again. "I'll just hit the mall quick. In and out, my style of shopping."

The blunette tilted her head slightly, looking at her with faint disbelief. "Okay, then. Well, keep in touch!"

"See you soon," Kyoko promised, waving as the girl stepped out into the bright, windy afternoon.

What am I going to do?

Walking through the brightly colored mall, Madoka kept giving her friend sidelong glances. Sayaka met the pinkette's eyes and she turned away, blushing.

"What's up, Madoka-chan?" Sayaka asked with a smile.

"Oh, nothing," Madoka began, then realized that wasn't true. "Well, actually, I just wanted to make sure… you were okay."

The blunette stopped. "What do you mean? I'm good."

"Oh, well, with everything, you know," Madoka began vaguely. "G-going to see Kyousuke-kun, tonight. Kinda, I dunno, weird, I guess. Right?"

"Kind of, but not really. I'm just excited to take Kyoko out somewhere for once. Expand her horizons; a little culture never hurt anyone, right? Hey," she blurted. "Why don't we go out to eat afterwards, or something?"

"I dunno," Madoka demurred, brow wrinkling in consideration. "It's a school night…"

"True," Sayaka groaned, feeling something begin to flutter around inside her stomach. She was determined to start school again tomorrow; she had to if she wanted to avoid being expelled. But her unfinished homework remained inside her backpack, carelessly dropped near the entryway of Mami's place. "But… it'd be so fun. All dressed up…"

"Yes," Madoka agreed, looking rather dreamily in the distance. "Maybe it could be a celebration, for Kyousuke. For the performance. Do you think he'd, uhh, what to come with?"

Sayaka laughed. "Yes, I bet he would. We'll have to convince his old man first, though, and that won't be easy." With a grin, the blunette beckoned her friend closer, lowering her voice.

The two put their heads together, walking towards the stylist as they hatched their plan.

Brow furrowed, Kyoko rang the doorbell to the opulent home for the second time. Fidgeting as she stood in the shadow of the imposing architecture, all planes and sharp angles, the redhead glanced around.

The door opened, and a pair of purple eyes regarded her blandly. "Madoka's not here," Junko stated, getting to what she thought was the point. "She's out with… I see you already knew that." The woman swung the door fully open. "What do you need, Sakura-san?"

As the purple-haired woman crossed her arms and stared at her expectantly, Kyoko suddenly forgot the reason she was here, forgot everything except a bizarrely familiar protective feeling that suddenly welled up inside her. "You'd better not be fucking with Homura." A vicious sizzle of satisfaction electrified Kyoko as she watched the woman's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "She's…" And there, Kyoko faltered, stumped.

Junko's gaze turned appraising. She waited patiently while the redhead struggled to complete her thought. "Yes, Sakura-san? She's… yours?"

Kyoko's eyes narrowed. "No."

"While I admire your passion, your tact and articulation leave much to be desired. If you're worried about your friend, well, I applaud your initiative." She beckoned the girl towards a modern-looking couch, all lines and planes just like the house. Glancing around warily, Kyoko glared at the woman as she plopped down heavily, arms crossed. "Your concern is evident. It's clear you two are close, despite how much effort you both put into hiding it. You are concerned… looking out for Homura. I think what you were trying to say, is you don't want to see Akemi Homura hurt. Because she is fragile." She nodded wisely as a look of understanding dawned across the younger girl's face. "And you think I'm…"

"Taking advantage," Kyoko accused. Fragile, however, was exactly the way she'd describe the black-haired transfer student. Surprised, she realized that, inside, she was concerned.

Junko shrugged. "I can see where you're coming from," she allowed. "But, well… if I'm forced to justify myself, something I don't do for just anyone, mind you… before I begin I'll pose you a question."

Kyoko stared across the living room as the purple-haired woman sat confidently on the opposing leather chair, leaning forward ever so slightly.

"Is it so hard to believe that I care about Homura just as much as you? What do you see when you look at her, Sakura-san? The hardened, calloused young woman determined to change the world? The genius mind, trapped within an adolescent body, misunderstood by her peers… her intellectual inferiors? The frightened girl, shaken and adrift, full of confusion and doubt?" Kyoko didn't respond, so Junko continued. "Homura is all those things, and more. I see a lot of myself in that girl. Don't be crude," she warned, interpreting Kyoko's look and opening mouth correctly.

"That was more like fifty questions," Kyoko muttered, sullen. "And they all sounded rhetorical to me."

"Homura's not like other teenagers. You know what that's like, I suspect. It's like… she has an old soul. She's deep, Sakura-san, surely you can see that. Thinks deep, feels deep. She carries around this… aura, I suppose, of hurt. You're her friend, you must know about her childhood. The deaths of her parents, going through the horrible ordeal of becoming an orphan, losing everything and being thrust into a new world full of strangers and misery in the forgotten bowels of the orphanages. Is it any wonder she'd end up so full of despair?"

"I…" Kyoko shook her head. She knew some things about Homura's past, but nothing in such detail. She knew next to nothing about the Japanese system of orphanages, but...Institutionalized. The thought gave her chills. "And her heart," Kyoko murmured, not catching Junko's startled look. No wonder she's so detached, sometimes. She hasn't been able to count on anyone in years… not even her body. Even longer, counting the supposed alternate timelines-

"What about her heart?" the older woman asked casually.

"You know, the whole genetic disease thing that killed her family. I can't imagine my body failing on me," Kyoko stated with an air of confidence, a quick pulse of dread coursing through her at the thought of being bound by chain and pain and watching a sickle slicing through the night at her neck as she lay immobilized and helpless-

Junko stared at the redhead, watching her eyes unfocus, mind wandering. ADHD for sure, the purple-haired woman confirmed, but the thought was overshadowed by this new revelation. Akemi Homura… what have you been hiding?

"Her… heart condition, yes, that must have something to do with it, as well." Puzzled, she muttered to herself. "But… she seems so… athletic. Vigorous-"

Drawn back from her internal wanderings, Kyoko frowned. "She had surgery, or something. She was kind of vague about it." The wish probably helped, too. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Wait, don't you know about it?" She smiled, feeling faintly triumphant.

Junko recovered, giving the redhead a rueful but still-dazzling grin, shifting on the chair slightly. "Homura shares what she wants with me. Her life is her own. As is yours, and your new girlfriend's." Purple eyes narrowed mockingly, a queen of the pack staring down an insouciant pup. "Nobody shares everything with anyone. I'm sure there are things you'd rather keep Sayaka from ever learning of. And don't delude yourself into thinking that Sayaka doesn't have her own secrets, things she'd rather keep buried than share with you."

Damn, thought Kyoko, rattled. This lady knew how to get under her skin. To her dismay, her mouth opened almost of its own volition. "What… what do you mean?" she heard herself asking.

"That's not for me to say." Junko smiled at the angry grimace. She was bluffing, anyway. Sayaka probably hadn't done anything worse than looking up questionable content on the internet. And probably felt bad about it, afterward. "We don't share everything about ourselves, Sakura-san. You're not half as thick as you pretend to be; I know you know that." She paused, letting the redhead try to figure out if she'd been the target of a compliment or condescension. "What we show of ourselves…"

"Is what? A lie?" Kyoko's tone was guarded, drawn into the complexities of the woman's ideas. The world had been so much easier when she'd divided it into two types of people: assholes and targets. Sometimes, sure, she might exaggerate, or do something she wouldn't otherwise do. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't help wondering how much Sayaka did that as well. "It's all just an act?" she continued, annoyed at the length of time Junko took to respond.

"More like… a fantasy. We act the way we think we should. Not in a moral sense," the older woman clarified hastily, playing with her hair. "It's like… there's an ideal version of you that, well, we try and convince our partners is the real us. Which is silly, since most people don't even begin to understand themselves. But it's that striving toward something better… more impressive, closer to our ideal, that helps to convince our own minds that we really are what we're trying to be."

"Huh?"

Junko sighed. "If I'm, say, a rough, ill-mannered person who may or may not have proclivities towards violent behavior," she began, relishing the look that came over the girl's face. "I meet a nice girl, and she's pretty sheltered and has nice friends… well, I know that she won't necessarily react well to my spitting, cursing and fighting. So, even though I am, deep down, still disposed towards uncivil behavior… now, around the object of my affection, I am something else. Less eager to swear and belch and pass gas, for instance. Slight differences, but differences nonetheless, based entirely upon your unconscious desire to please your partner. That doesn't mean it isn't you, that it isn't who you are. People are more complex than just having one 'you'."

"That…" Kyoko began, "sounds exactly like crazy talk. More than one me? What does that even mean? I'm a badass. You're an old manipulative woman. And for the record, I don't pass gas." Her eyes narrowed. "Wait… Did Homura tell you about 'other yous'?" Kyoko's understanding was vague, but all that talk of alternate dimensions and divergent timelines and other Kyokos-

"We've had many interesting conversations. Funny, she seemed to take it as literally as you seem to, at first. Of course I'm being metaphorical. She reminds me of a young college student, so eager to try and make sense of the world. So animated and passionate, trying to figure it all out..." Purple eyes gazed into the distance, leaving Kyoko with her thoughts.

I don't know if I've ever seen Homura eager before, the redhead debated. But then, most of their conversations had been talking shop. Sure, there'd been some getting-to-know-you stuff, but apart from their confrontations that always seemed to occur on rooftops, she'd never really had discussion with the girl.

"You undoubtedly know a different Homura than I, Sakura-san," Junko admitted. "But there are truths running beneath whatever mask we try to wear. You know just as well as I that Homura is… troubled. You didn't come her because she's the strong, independent young woman she tries so desperately to project. You came because, somehow, you've seen the truth. That she's hurt. Wounded. Ready to break." Junko heaved a sigh. "And you think I'm going to make it worse."

Kyoko stared at the woman, suspicion easily read across her features. "I know you'll make it worse."

Junko's eyes narrowed. "I hope you are wrong, for both our sakes. You can judge me all you want, Sakura-san. Just remember that Sayaka is just as fragile, in her own way. My offer from before still stands." She glanced down at her foot significantly. Before the redhead could work up an outburst, she moved on. "But we're not talking about Sayaka, not tonight… you wanted to discuss Homura's pain.

"Have you ever taken the time to think about it? About why she's in pain? What is it that her life lacks, what does she need, more than anything else, Sakura-san? Validation." Junko breathed the word like it was an epiphany. "Everyone does, really, but much more so for her. She's been starved for it. Her experiences, her tragedies… they've led that bright mind and shining spirit down a dark and twisted path. When I opened the door and saw that poor, troubled soul, I recognized a kindred spirit. You, too, are complex, Sakura-san." Kyoko blinked, surprised at her abrupt inclusion. "The trials and tragedy you've faced are etched into your personality, a hard exterior masking something that's a little, say, softer." She sighed again, this time at the wild look of dismay on the redhead's face. "Losing one's parents, one's family… it does things to a young mind. When you see firsthand the senseless cruelty that is life, everything you knew and took for granted shattered in an instant of harsh realization, you gain an awareness that the blissfully ignorant utterly lack. We see the world differently than others, people who grow up fortunate, never experiencing such a horrific loss."

Kyoko was pale, her mouth desert dry. "H-how do you know about th-that?"

Purple eyes gazed at her, sad and filled with uncharacteristic empathy. "I had my suspicions when we met, and beyond that… I do my homework, Sakura-san. I know your parents and your sister perished in a fire-"

"THAT'S NOT-" Kyoko caught herself, throat raw with anger, thrilled at the slight widening of the woman's eyes. Junko remained sitting, but the redhead noticed a tenseness to her shoulders that hadn't been there a moment before. "-how it happened," she finished, damming up the seething outrage at her family being casually tossed into a conversation.

Homework, huh? Maybe not so casually, Kyoko recognized. "Homura warned me you were manipulative."

Junko looked wounded, her mouth open but unresponsive. "I… I'm sorry. It must be painful, still. I apologize for bringing it up." After the slightest pause, she added, "I just wanted you to know… I empathize."

"That's just fu-… none of that matters, anyway. What I-"

"As long as you keep telling yourself that, Sakura-san, you give the past the power to continue haunting you. How could your past not matter? It's what made you you." Junko raised a hand, imploring the girl to hear her out. "You have something now, something precious. It was written all over both of you," Junko grinned, catlike, almost as if she was sharing a secret between them. Kyoko found it annoying. "You've met someone that you want to share things with… hopes and plans and ideas and experiences. The future. You're lucky," the woman sighed, sounding regretful. "I knew that feeling, once… but, in the end, I settled for an easier path. I'm content with my choices, but sometimes…" Refocusing, purple eyes narrowed at Kyoko's dumbstruck look. "What I'm saying is… you have someone, someone you care about. Someone who cares about you. How does it feel, Sakura-san? Has Sayaka made your life better?"

"What? It's… yeah, of course-"

"Why? How is it better than it was, before you met her?" A lilac gaze bored into Kyoko's soul, narrowing in frustration as the redhead tried to come up with a response. "And I'm not talking about anything… physical. What I'm talking about is something you feel inside you, internal and-"

"I thought you weren't talking about screwing," Kyoko muttered, unable to help herself. To her surprise, Junko blinked and burst into laughter. Watching with bemusement as the woman's guffaws shook her ample chest, the redhead found herself smiling as well. Making the purple-haired woman laugh made her feel excessively funny. And proud of it.

Shaking off the strange feeling, Kyoko focused on the conversation. "Oh my… that was good. Whew. Yes, well… where was I?"

"Some shit about feelings…"

Junko frowned. "Tone down the machismo, please. If you don't analyze yourself, you'll never figure out who you are, find out what you need to improve. It's called reflection." She gestured with an arm, a sweeping motion taking in the whole of the world. "It's why we live in skyscrapers and fly in machines above the clouds instead of hurling our feces at one another in some tropical jungle." Junko smiled to herself. "Some of us, anyway. Others, like those sexist assholes in parliament… have yet to evolve."

The smile vanished. "Nice attempt at dodging the question, Sakura-san, but I'm still waiting. Still nothing?" Purple hair swished across the woman's shoulders as she shook her head in mock-disappointment. "So bottled up. Well, I'll take some guesses. I'm guessing that… Sayaka makes you feel needed. You know that you matter, when you're around her, and can't get enough of it. And, when you're together, it's like the two of you are the entire world, all to yourselves. She makes you feel… comfortable. Secure." Kyoko's wide, crimson eyes flickered. "Not physically safe, more like… you can let your guard down around her. Trust her with things you might not have told anyone else. Feel free to stop me at any time. You feel important, and the way you see yourself in her eyes makes you feel… good about yourself. She makes you want to get up out of bed in the morning, ready to meet a new day, as long as it holds the promise of her."

Kyoko swallowed. "I… How did…" Am I that obvious? Walking around like I'm bewitched?

Junko's laugh was musical, her face lit up with an inner joy. "Sakura-san, you wound me. Is it impossible to imagine that I was once a foul-mouthed, angry, violent girl who experienced love herself? Do you think you're unique, that the warm feeling of happiness inside of you is something for you and you alone?" She took a breath, her face becoming serious. "So, you're life is better now that Sayaka is in it?"

"Yes," Kyoko confirmed. "I can't imagine it without her."

"She makes you know, with absolute certainty, that you matter. And you do the same to her. Not consciously, perhaps, but you compliment one another. Play off each other's strengths."

"What does any of this have to do with Homura?"

"What, indeed, does the human need for respect and validation have to do with the troubled, confused orphan who's spent the last years of her life shuffled around inside of an institution, alone and adrift since the death of her parents? What possible connection-"

Kyoko squirmed. "You don't have to be so heavy on the sarcasm," she grumbled, feeling uncharacteristically dense.

"Who is there to tell Homura that she matters, Sakura-san? Is it you? Are you that good and loyal and close a friend?" Noting the girl's guilty expression, Junko nodded to herself on the inside even as her head shook dismissively.

"What about Madoka?" Kyoko blurted, not thinking the gambit through. Oh yeah, that's why this is all so awkward.

Junko had the grace to look embarrassed. "Homura did seem to express an interest… but, for gods' sakes, Sakura-san, you know my daughter. At least a little. Does she seem like she's ready, or even interested in some kind of intense relationship? Especially with someone as… confusing, as conflicted, as Homura?"

"Well," hemmed Kyoko. When you put it that way… but in the back of her mind, she couldn't help thinking that Junko might be surprised at the capabilities of her innocent, helpless-seeming daughter.

"Madoka is a sweetheart, but she hasn't really experienced much of the world. Tomohisa spoils her that way, but I can't say he's wrong to do it. She's a gentle soul, Sakura-san, an innocent. Impressionable. Just look at how she's suddenly head-over-heels for Sayaka's cast-off musician! If I have to hear one more word about... Relationships start with a spark, but they continue through compromise, the subtle play of give and take; she's not equipped to deal with-"

Maybe she's exactly what Homura needs, Kyoko considered. But… maybe not. The raven-haired girl had been strangely open about her feelings, obviously conflicted. The redhead shrugged. "Look, I'm not here for your bullshit zen wisdom relationship advice, Junko."

The woman stared back, unblinking, unmoved by the girl's tone. "Why are you here, Sakura-san?"

Remembering, Kyoko felt herself begin to blush in embarrassment. As if any of that mattered, now that she'd pissed off this dragon-lady. "I… just looking out for my friend, I guess."

Purple eyes rolled, a surprisingly adolescent gesture. "Bullshit. You told me off in the first seconds of seeing me. Warning delivered, mission accomplished. If you really mistrusted me so much, despised me, you'd never have set foot in this house. Taken a swing at me, maybe..." She leaned forward, suddenly intense and completely intrigued. "What is it that you want, Sakura-san?"

Annoyed, Kyoko gazed at the woman in defiance. "Why do you keep calling me Sakura-san, Junko?"

"I thought it was obvious, Kyoko," the purple-haired woman explained, leaning back with a grin. "Because I know it bothers you."

Kyoko grunted, then sighed. It seemed like such a good idea at the time. "Homura… told me you were kind of like… an expert at, well…"

As the redhead explained her request, Junko's face went from surprised to pleased, finally splitting in an eager, delighted grin that the redhead couldn't help but see as wolfish.

Unbound, Madoka's shimmering pink hair cascaded down her back like a wave of luminous clouds at sunrise. "You really think it looks good?" the pinkette asked for the third time, patting it with a small hand.

"Fantastic," Sayaka said. You can hardly tell there was a good chunk missing.

Madoka, seeing her friend giving her hair a scrutinizing stare, giggled. "Are you wondering about my hair?" She shook her head, long locks falling across her shoulders. "It grew back!"

"What?" Sayaka asked. It had only been a few days. But sure enough, everything looked to be in place. "That's…" Weird would hurt her feelings. "Interesting."

"I know, right? So, let's get you into your outfit." The pinkette rubbed her hands together eagerly. Dressing up was so much fun!

"Um, sure. I… wait, what are you wearing? I didn't see…" Sayaka glanced around, embarrassed that she may have not noticed her friend's clothing, but there was no sign of an outfit.

Madoka giggled behind a hand, her eyes glinting. "It's a surprise. You'll see," she finished mischievously.

Shrugging, Sayaka grinned and headed toward the bedroom, glad to have her friend's assistance in putting everything together, but faintly unsettled that Kyoko wasn't back yet. Where is that girl?

"So, which of you get's Mami-san's room?" Madoka asked innocently, her voice getting solemn as she gave name to their departed friend.

"Er…"

"Ooof," Kyoko gasped, suddenly finding it difficult to breath. "That's... a tight... fit."

"Quit grunting, you sound like some kind of animal. Take shallow breaths. If this is what you want, you'll have to get used to a little discomfort. Shall I continue?"

Frowning, the redhead gritted her teeth and nodded.

Sayaka glanced at the clock. Still another hour to go. There'd been no sign of Kyoko, either, and Madoka had yet to change. Aware that the shorter girl had been casting glances her way, the blunette turned away from the clock, and was surprised to see the serious expression on Madoka's face.

"Madoka-chan?"

The pinkette blinked. "Oh. Sorry, I was just…"

"What's on your mind?" It was obvious something was.

Madoka's lower lip pushed out in a thoughtful pout. "Promise you won't get mad?"

Now she had Sayaka's complete attention. "Ahh… I promise I won't get mad at you," she qualified.

Madoka glanced away, looking pensive. When she turned back, Sayaka was alarmed to see her eyes swimming with tears. "S-Sayaka-chan… I heard, on the news, that… I'm worried about you, and…"

Confused, Sayaka's brow furrowed. "Don't be mad, Sayaka-chan. I know you aren't a bad person, those people that died-"

The rest of the words drowned out, replaced by a muted roar in her ears. Her stomach had clenched into a ball of ice that lay inside her heavily. She knows-

"I just keep thinking about it, and ever since the fight where… where I got shot-"

The memories thrust up from their dungeon within Sayaka's mind, desperately grappled with, chained and thrown away to be forgotten. Knowing that, deep down, she wouldn't ever, really, forget-

"Please say something, Sayaka-chan! I know… I don't understand, but I know there must be a reason-"

They deserved it. That's what she told herself; that's what Kyoko had told her, too. And they had, right? Her mind replayed the attack in Motogawa, ambushed by the strange group of Puella Magi. That had been life or death. The gang of men who'd accosted them in the night… she couldn't feel bad about that. What she'd done after, however… And, worst of all, she thought back to the first-

"It's just, I'm scared for you… you've never mentioned any of this, and I know it must be eating you up inside-"

"Madoka, enough," Sayaka snapped. Ignoring the wounded look in the pinkette's eyes, she went on. "Look, sorry, but… I did what I had to do." She frowned, not liking the taste of self-justification in her answer.

"You did…? But, I thought Kyoko-"

"No! It… it was me. It's like... when those other Magical Girls who attacked us… they would have killed you. Kyoko. Homura. Me. All of us. We… sometimes, we have no choice but to fight back." That was true.

But it was the first time, those two degenerates on the subway… she shook her head, feeling her eyes beginning to burn. She'd been… in a tough spot. No sleep, running of hurt and rage. She hadn't thought it out. Those hateful words, the arrogant self-assurance of the worthless men denigrating someone as if she were no better than an animal… she'd snapped. She'd killed them, rather than listening to another of their poisonous words. She felt her hands clenching tightly, a sickening, thrilling rush pulsing through her veins.

"No. That's not true, sorry. I… won't make excuses anymore. I have done terrible things, Madoka-chan. Terrible…"

Somewhere, in the back of her foggy, sleep-deprived and emotionally unstable mind, she had thought it had been an act of justice. For the nameless girlfriend, and any other woman who had the unfortunate luck and poor taste to fall in with such a piece of human filth.

But he had just been some random asshole acting like a dick. She didn't know him, or his friend. Witches killed people. Magical girls were there to kill the Witches. Protect people.

Sobbing, Sayaka welcomed her friend's embrace, doubt flooding back in as the past seemed to rise up before her. "M-Madoka-chan," she cried, "am I a monster?"

"Ow!" Kyoko squirmed, her hair feeling like it was being pulled out by the roots. "Watchit!"

"Now now," Junko murmured, gazing intently down at the redhead from behind, hands working furiously. "You know the rules. Hold still, and keep your eyes open. It's the only way you'll learn."

Disgusted at herself, Kyoko endured as best she could, vowing to never, ever let this be done to her again.

Terrible to leave it hanging here. Try to be quicker with next chapter.

Thanks to everyone who's expressed interest, read, reviewed, followed or favorited. I really enjoy writing, and as I've mentioned before your participation in my little story is profoundly motivating. The prime motivation, other than my love for these characters. So, thanks. I appreciate it.

It's also helpful to hear about what is confusing, doesn't make sense to you, hasn't been resolved, or seems out of place.

Lots of psycho!Junko in this one; if you're not a fan, well, sometimes you have to roll with the punches. If you need further convincing of my pairing, if the story doesn't explain it well enough I'll try and reflect on it and other things once I'm done.