Chapter 58

Priorities

The touch of breath on her face. The feeling of heat and soft, pliant lips. They were the entirety of her world. The racing of her heart was exhilarating, and as she shifted in the seat the blunette remembered, briefly, where she was, where they were. The thought, if anything, was even more exciting, the flavor of exhibitionism adding a delicious spice as her arm traced it's way down and around a bare shoulder-

Crimson eyes opened. Kyoko felt an unfamiliar jolt of emotion that was impossibly, aggravatingly, most definitely some close cousin to guilt. Deftly, she fended off the roaming hand, mind racing. Pulling back, she looked at her partner's rapturous face, the intensity of her expression surprising the veteran in a most pleasing way. So alluring, pulling her back in… but then Sayaka opened her eyes, uncomprehending, and saw her staring.

It had surprised the red head how easy it had been. She'd just meant to tease a little, hoping to snatch a few quick kisses, but things had gone a little farther than she'd ever anticipated. Sayaka had been… amazingly eager. But it was time to pull herself back from the brink, before it was too late. "S-slow down, gorgeous," Kyoko admonished, cursing her own breathlessness. She'd tried to deliver it lightly, inflected with a bit of mockery to diffuse the situation, but she was out of breath and it came out sounding shaky, even uncertain. Sayaka's brow furrowed, liquid blue eyes peering at her from across the seat.

"What?" Sayaka asked, her mind instantly jumping to the worst conclusions at what made her new girlfriend panicky. A vague worry suffused her. Did I do something wrong? Was I-

"We've been here for a while," Kyoko stated, feeling the need to remind her poor blunette of the obvious. And, for that matter, she could use a reminder herself. Fingers knotted in her lap, yearing to reach out and grab a handful of that beautiful blue hair. "The others, back upstairs, are waiting for us."

"Huh?" Sayaka leaned back, flexing her shoulders. Damn I'm tense. Then she remembered the bigger picture. "Oh crap, the concert! Madoka, the the others…" Carefully, she ran her fingers through her hair, wincing at the tangled mess. She sighed unhappily, giving her friend a bemused look. Kyoko flashed her a winning smile, which proved contagious.

"Let me help you with that," Kyoko offered, pulling an errant blue strand of forelock out of the younger girl's eye. The redhead looked untouched, her hair as perfect as before. It was untouched, to Sayaka's knowledge. The veteran's agile hands had seen to that, fending off her every move.

Flushing anew, Sayaka shakily tried to sort out the worst of her hair before giving Kyoko a go at it. The older girl could be surprisingly gentle… but it was surprising exactly because of how often she was the opposite of gentle.

In the right setting, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it could be quite-

Sayaka pounded her head a few times with a hand, trying to banish any distracting trains of thought. She felt the other girl stare at her in baffled concern. "Kyoko," Sayaka confided, "I don't know what it is about you but… well, you know," she finished, disappointing the redhead immensely.

"What?"

"Well, you just… take over my whole world. Like, when we're together, you're..." Kyoko waited, on bated breath as the girl paused bashfully. "I can lose myself in you." She stopped, barely keeping herself from continuing.

Mind reeling, her thinking hindered by the soft, warm feeling that flooded through her, the redhead leaned back in her seat. But try as she might, the feelings wouldn't translate into words. "We should probably get going," Kyoko reminded, choking up a little.

Sayaka looked surprised, but nodded, leaning over to embrace the older girl. "You're right. Never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad one of us is the responsible one." Squeezing, she let her lips linger on the crook of her partner's neck, feeling the softness and heat and faint thrumming of her pulse. The blunette withdrew and grinned warmly, perplexed by the other girl's agitation, the tenseness of her shoulders.

"Yes," Kyoko agreed noncommittally. "Responsible." I gotta get out of this fucking car now or I'm going to be un-responsible all over her, she thought, looking towards the door with a wild desperation that precluded any clever attempt at innuendo.

"You're right," Sayaka agreed, sighing in a way that made Kyoko think she was trying to convince herself. "You're right, of course. It's just, I guess I thought you…" the blunette's voice faded off, puzzlement and a hint of worry clouding her face. Why did she stop?

Kyoko took a deep breath, finally starting to calm down. Distance helped. Why did I stop? she wondered, for a moment, hating the feeling of not understanding her own motivations. I don't give a shit what anyone thinks. Screw the concert and Sayaka's friends and everything else. A perfect chance for some me time, thrown out the fucking window…

But of course it wasn't that simple. Annoyingly, she was unable to shut all these extraneous considerations off like she used to. She was coming to realize that, since she wanted to keep the blunette happy, to make her happy, she had to look beyond her own perspective and consider Sayaka's as well. This make everything much more complicated. While Kyoko couldn't care less about the opinions of the likes of Hitomi, for some reason it was important to her girlfriend, and the redhead would be damned before sabotaging the younger girl's relationship with the people she cared about. Even if a dark part of her wished they'd all move away or die, leaving her the sole beneficiary of the blunette's attention. "I like you, Sayaka. A lot. A ridiculous amount. I respect you. And, well, this is your night, with your friends." Kyoko shrugged, trying to keep it light. Not the last one. Not your last chance to see them. "I don't want to… ruin things for you."

"Ruin things?" Sayaka shook her head, a small smile on her lips. "You're what makes this night special, Kyoko-kun."

Sometimes, having a transparent girlfriend could be rewarding. Basking in the blunette's obvious adoration, she squirmed in her seat. "Well, maybe a few more minutes wouldn't hurt," Kyoko began, "we've been gone for almost half an hour-"

"Half an hour?!" No way, that can't be right! Sayaka tried to recall the recent past, but everything seemed to blur together.

The redhead nodded, tapping a temple meaningfully with a slim finger. Perfect crimson hair remained perfect, the braided strand across her forehead in place. Stupid to be concerned about that. But, it took so long… no sense in getting it all messed up right away. Her crimson gaze swept around the limo's interior, suddenly realizing how thirsty she was. Junko had mentioned something about refreshments, but she'd been too nervous on the way over to even look around. "Any longer, and I figured they'd know something was up." With a grin, she slid back the cabinet door near the rear seat, cleverly recessed into the side paneling. There was a gleam of bottles hidden within, expensive-looking and bearing foreign lettering. "And, well, your hair was getting a little…" she added as an afterthought.

Sayaka winced. "What?"

Kyoko looked up, one arm disappearing into the cabinet. She'd thought the comment spoke for itself, then realized she was on dangerous ground. Careful. "Frazzled?" she tried, and knew she'd said the wrong thing almost instantly courtesy of Sayaka's immediate and expressive feedback. "Tousled," she tried, liking that much better. "That's what I meant. Tousled."

Sayaka's hands began combing through her hair again. "Well, Kyoko, maybe if you weren't so grab-happy-"

"You're the one who keeps moving around," the redhead quipped, missing her partner's embarrassed flush of color while focusing on taking out the prize she'd managed to retrieve, an enticing picture of peaches on the label. "Those busy hands of yours, not that I'm complaining… What is this?" The clear liquid looked uncarbonated to her discerning eye. "Juice?"

"Junko juice, maybe," Sayaka snickered. Kyoko, perhaps not understanding the reference, had already unscrewed the top, shrugged and upended the bottle, gulping-

"Kyoko!" Sayaka cried in alarm. "KYOKO!"

The second exclamation was more akin to a scream of shock and dismay. In between, the blunette had seen her girlfriend's eyes widen almost painfully before the inside of the car erupted in a spray of strongly-smelling mist.

Poison! I've been poisoned! Sputtering and coughing, Kyoko found herself unable to breath, her throat burning painfully as she choked on the first gulp she'd managed to swallow before her entire body had seemed to rebel.

The rest was mostly projected at Sayaka.

Frowning, the blunette dabbed pointlessly at the blouse. The damp spots had disappeared, but the smell… At least Kyoko had stopped coughing. She'd been worried, for a moment.

Experimentally, Sayaka sniffed at her outfit. Squinting in the dim overhead lighting above the recently evacuated limousine, she mentally shrugged. "This shirt looks okay, right?" she asked, refusing to so much as glance at her partner for the question as she began walking briskly towards the doors.

Firewater. Where had she heard that? Damn stuff still burns. "Hey, wait up!" Kyoko begged, stumbling along in the ridiculous shoes. Ah, fuck this, she thought, crouching down to peel out one foot, then another. Standing, she wobbled a bit, still feeling unbalanced. That's strange. A thought popped into her head. Maybe wearing those damn things, getting use to them, makes it hard to go back to regular walking, like sea-legs…

"What the hell are sea-legs?" Kyoko had asked. They'd been discussing Wokou pirates and their influence over trade. She'd been paying attention, mostly, but especially liked the crazy descriptions of sea battles her mentor kept coming up with.

How long ago was that? It feels like forever. Those early days, once they'd really begun hanging out regularly, were a blur.

In her mind's eye, though, she saw the blonde curls that bounced as her mentor's head tilted back, laughter tinkling in the afternoon haze. "Sea-legs," Mami had explained, having long ago given up on admonishing her for cursing, "is what sailors called their ability to move around on a ship at sea without losing their balance. Your footing is constantly changing when you're on open water, with the waves and the wind pushing the vessel around. Over a period of time, they develop a sense of the rhythm of the ship, the movements. The body and mind adapt, and what was once difficult becomes second-nature."

Kyoko had given that some thought, then smiled playfully, stretching across the couch like a cat. In some ways, her entire world seemed off-kilter these past months, ever since encountering the well-proportioned blonde. "You've, kind of, given me my sea-legs. Getting my balance with… this." She paused, finger flicking back and forth between Mami and herself significantly. "So to speak." She'd poached that one from Mami herself, and couldn't decide if she was annoyed at the way she'd developed a tendency to adopt some of the blonde's phrasing. Her mannerisms. "If you know what I mean."

The older girl had actually choked on that, startled. "I… That's an interesting analogy, Kyoko-chan, and… I think I'm honored." They were both blushing furiously for some reason by that point, and the blonde bravely soldiered on. "It's actually a bit of a double-edged sword. With sea-legs, I mean. When they'd get back on land, well, it felt like the world was moving underneath them. They'd become used to compensating for the rise and fall of the water, and back on solid ground their muscle memory turned against them."

Kyoko, contemplating the train ride home, her father's increasing obsession and her mother's indifference, felt like that summed up things pretty well.

Stupid random memories. Unconsciously she winced, but for some reason the stabbing sense of guilt and loss and pain that usually accompanied such golden-hued flashes was mercifully absent. Instead, the thought of her mentor brought a lingering fondness. With a sudden, barely-disguised belch, Kyoko hastened after the blunette, noting with a little smugness the girl had at least stopped to wait for her. She's not that mad. "You alright?" the blunette asked tentatively, and even the slight worry in her voice gave Kyoko a warm tingle inside of her. Not her stomach, exactly, but that felt strangely warm, too, now that she thought about it.

"Yes, now that I have these off," the redhead confided with a significant glance at her footwear, having to look slightly up to meet those crystal-blue eyes. She frowned. Now Sayaka was back to being taller than her. As tall as, or near enough that it makes no difference, Kyoko corrected herself.. "Hold up," she mumbled, sliding back into the shoes and holding out an arm for Sayaka to take.

The gesture was a little imperious for Sayaka's tastes, and she couldn't help roll her eyes. "Well, on or off? I'm impressed you can even-" Kyoko looked down at her again, smiling, and immediately stumbled as they took the first step back towards the doors to the theater. "What has gotten into you?" Sayaka wondered aloud, perplexed at the redhead's sudden burst of giggles. It was amazing, a wonderful sound she wanted to recreate as much as possible, but it was also… strange. What the hell? She'd never heard anything like it.

Kyoko leaned in suddenly, then recoiled a few inches. "Whew! You stink like a bar," she commented, her voice bubbling with amusement.

"What?" Sayaka asked in dismay. She sniffed cautiously; nothing. But then again, it had been all over her; maybe she just couldn't smell it anymore. "Damn it." She'd tried to get it off as best she could with a bottle of water and some tissues from her purse, but her partner's assessment had her worried. The blunette eyed the door nervously, glancing around as if somewhere there might be a bathroom to wash up in, or better yet a fresh change of clothes. Stopping, she turned toward the redhead with a glower. "I wouldn't stink like anything if you hadn't spit that liquor all over me," she said, trying to sound stern. She stopped when the redhead began shaking at her side. "What is wrong with you?"

Kyoko waved a hand helplessly, the other clenched over her stomach as her body was wracked with mirth. "I'm s-s-sorry, but… When I… Your f-face..." Wheezing, the girl made as if to sit down in the middle of the parking lot, sagging, but a quick jerk to her arm and Sayaka's dismayed gasp of "Your dress!" kept her on her feet, albeit unsteadily.

The redhead's eyes were wide, a flush of adrenaline coursing through her like a driver who'd been sleeping at the wheel, waking up to an oncoming tree. "Thanks," she muttered, brushing her emerald rear off as if she'd actually sat down on the stained, pitted asphalt.

What has gotten into her? Feeling exceptionally dumb, Sayaka slapped her forehead with a palm.

"I can't believe you just did that!" Kyoko gasped, amazed at the sight of her girlfriend hitting herself. Her giggles died away as the pointed finger approached her nose with stabbing accusation.

"You drank some!" Sayaka was feeling less and less confident about their return to the theater. Kyoko's mischievous grin had a certain level of naughtiness to it that was open to interpretation, and the blunette's imagination threatened to become a distraction. "I can't believe… you said you didn't swallow!"

The grin vanished. "I'd never swallow," Kyoko said, indignant. The pleasant burning in her stomach told a different story. So she'd choked some down, maybe. Who could say? "Well, not on purpose," she hedged. It had been a surprise, she'd thought it was juice. It's label had pictures of fruit, for the love of-

Sayaka peered into her partner's eyes, watching the feisty amusement beginning to glimmer again. "It couldn't have been more than a mouthful," she muttered, thinking back to the older girl tilting back her head, that delicate neck craned as she took a pull, a gulp, and then- "Maybe two," she amended. "You can't be drunk." Can she?

"I feel fine," Kyoko affirmed with a sharp nod. "Let's go, hot ass, I wanna sit down." She accompanied her words with a not-so-gentle slap.

"Kyoko!" Rubbing her backside surreptitiously with the hand not clenched in Kyoko's death-grip, Sayaka raised her eyebrows. "Hot ass? Really?" Still, some part of her basked in the seething glow of feeling flattered.

"Sweet nubile princess, I want to admire your luscious legs, your ravishing rack, those hallowed hips and that amazing a-"

"Wow, you are wasted." The blunette chuckled; some of those words sounded completely made up. Nubile, hah! "Remember where we are," Sayaka cautioned, pulling at her collar with a finger, once again feeling warm and distracted.

"I'll behave," Kyoko stated solemnly, surprised at the amount of effort required to put one foot in front of the other.

Attempting to avoid attention while re-entering the building proved impossible: intermission had just begun and a flood of people were pouring out of the theater entrances, rivers of well-dressed and immaculately groomed humanity crowding the hallways leading to the main chamber. Sayaka felt herself shriveling up under the gaze of the theater goers, detecting a note of surprise in their stares as the door shut noisily behind them.

Kyoko's eyes instantly darted to the numerous tables that had been set up, drinks and snacks displayed for the patrons of the theater. Her stomach growled, and she watched as patrons line up all nice and orderly, swiping their cards or phones against the table as they made their choice. A rare few produced crisp yen notes. Her roll of cash was in her shirt. Shoulda grabbed it. The thought, if anything, got her excited. It had been a long time since she'd snatched anything. Days. Her fingers itched, her pleasantly warm stomach growled. "Hey, baby," she murmured. "I'm-"

"Hungry?" Sayaka supplied, smiling. "Should we grab a snack?"

"How did you know?" the red head gasped. "Could you read my mind just then?"

Madoka glanced up, grinning and waving to her returning friends. Kyoko was busily munching away on something, licking the fingers of one hand while holding onto Sayaka with the other. The blunette looked a little pained, and Madoka felt a pang of worry, but when her friend looked over she gave a wide smile.

"I hope neither of you is feeling ill?" Homura asked flatly, expression sour. Sayaka, already flustered at having to pay the exorbitant prices of the food vendors while keeping her companion from indulging in a five-fingered discount, sputtered as she stood at the end of the aisle.

"We… I…" Sayaka seemed to glance to the redhead for help, and Madoka watched with interest as Kyoko swallowed exaggeratedly, her head pushing up and out like a crocodile swallowing a huge gobbet of meat.

"Long lines at the bathroom," Kyoko stated, sitting down heavily. Madoka smiled, seeing the heels come off between one blink and the next. "And then, Sayaka bought me a snack." The blunette shrugged, blushing a little. Madoka knew the blunette felt guilty about the attention drawn to the fact she hadn't gotten anything for anyone else. "Don't get all bitchy because your girlfriend didn't buy you shit."

Sayaka gasped, and Madoka's eyes crinkled, wondering why the redhead was staring so hard at her while talking to Homura. "I don't want anything," Homura responded. "And I don't have a girlfriend, Sakura-san."

"Uh, Homura-chan, I could get you something-" Sayaka offered, trying to diffuse the sudden and strange tenseness smothering the balcony.

"I already said, I don't want-"

"Not unless you're getting more for me-"

The blunette held her breath. Madoka made a face, some of the undercurrents she'd felt between the veteran Puella Magi boiling over at long last. "It sure was nice, though, of you to offer, Sayaka-chan. Wasn't it, Homura-chan?"

"Yes," the transfer student agreed. After a pause, during which Madoka had to shoot Kyoko a warning glance, seeing the redhead's mouth opening, Homura added, "Thanks."

"No problem," Sayaka reassured, waving off the essentially forced apology. Madoka! Her eyes didn't convey the Keep out of it! message she tried to beam directly into the pinkette's head. Now the purple-eyed girl was going to resent her for somehow getting involved.

Her short friend turned towards Kyoko again, who was staring at her with an unknowable expression. "It's nice Sayaka-chan got you a treat, Kyoko-chan," she commented.

Kyoko blinked. "Yes, it was."

"Was it as good as it looked?" Madoka asked.

"Yeah, delicious." The confection had melted in her mouth most pleasantly, filling her stomach. "She knew I wanted it, like she knew exactly what I was thinking!"

Homura made a sound of derision, and Sayaka felt herself blushing. "What, that you-"

"Sayaka-chan is very thoughtful," Madoka agreed forcefully, giving her friend a wink when she thought Kyoko wasn't looking. Argument diverted! she congratulated herself. Slowly, she eased her foot up off Homura's toes, the girl staring at her in incomprehension. Thankfully, Sayaka drew her attention by leaning forward, suddenly looking hesitant.

"Hey, Madoka-chan, is there any way you could cover me tonight?" the blunette whispered, regretful of having to make such a request despite how many times during the course of their friendship Madoka had told her not to worry. "It's just… I didn't know how expensive stuff was here-"

"Don't worry about it. Of course, you…" Madoka's voice trailed off. To Sayaka's horror, she sniffed, twice. "What is that smell?" It reminded her, for some reason, of her mother.

"Oh, yeah, that. Someone… spilled something on me. Do you have any, um, scented stuff?"

Grinning, Madoka reached into her bag and dug out a small perfume bottle and three different scented lotions, watching the blunette give her blouse a hasty couple of spritzes. A man behind them waved his hand in front of his face with an excessive amount of exaggeration.

"Well there you are," Hitomi's voice stated cheerfully as she returned to her seat, so cheerful Sayaka was almost positive she imagined the reprimand behind the words. The implied question. "I hope you've been enjoying yourselves?" she asked lightly as she made her way to the far seat past Madoka.

"We spent most of the time banging," Kyoko informed the other girl, pausing long enough to make Sayaka get that slightly queasy, nervous look, a wild, That's not true! flash in her eyes, "on bathroom stalls. Took forever." I am so mean, she thought to herself, loving to watch her partner squirm.

The lights dimmed, and the group sat in silence as the music resumed.

Fifteen minutes into the final movement, Sayaka glanced to the side, feeling a tug at her sleeve. Madoka was staring at her with bright, worried eyes, bent over Homura's lap and leaning towards her.

Homura found herself frozen, wide-eyed, before noticing the blunette was staring at her. She tried to turn her attention back to the music, but a gentle pat on her leg made her jump.

"Ow," winced the pinkette. "Sorry for startling you, Homura-chan," she apologized quickly, rubbing the spot where the girl's knee had connected, "but do you guys feel that?"

"Feel what?" they both asked, Homura's voice crackling uncharacteristically. She cleared her throat, ignoring Sayaka's blank, assessing look.

"Witch," Madoka whispered, looking deeply concerned. Almost frightened.

Sayaka focused, trying to feel them through her gem, but it was difficult to concentrate with the noise. "Close?" Madoka shrugged, uncertain. Close enough, if she's sensing it.

Kyoko leaned over, resting her head across Sayaka's chest. She wanted to get up and move around; for some reason the concert had become more tedious. "We should go kill it," she stated, glancing up at the blunette. "Make sure everyone gets home safe tonight." The beaming grin shining down from above her was exactly what she'd hoped for, and she snuggled up in the pillowy embrace of Sayaka's chest. For a moment, at least, until the girl's azure eyes flicked nervously down the row. Sighing, she straightened up.

Homura decided to keep her opinions about the overly-expressive display of mutual admiration to herself, and merely nodded.

"What do we tell Hitomi-chan?" Madoka whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the green-haired girl who sat at her side.

Sayaka froze, suddenly worried. It would be terribly rude to leave early, what kind of excuse would work for all of them? "Maybe only some of us should go," she began, but stopped at Madoka's look.

"I think we should go together," the pinkette stated, surprisingly firm.

"Leave it to me," Kyoko said, standing up. Madoka looked confused at the suggestion, Homura considering. Sayaka, however, couldn't keep a reluctant grin off her face.

"You're leaving?" Hitomi hissed, a look of incredulity washing over her. "But, it's nearly finished-"

"Shh!" a middle-aged woman shushed from the row behind them. Kyoko turned, but felt the purple stare watching her every move, so she contented herself with a brief gesture of universal disdain before turning back to the green-haired girl.

"No, we're not leaving. We stayed until the end, and had a wonderful time. The finale was spectacular. We left to get our spot at the, um, restaurant. You stayed because you wanted to ride with your boyfriend. Meet us there in an hour." Kyoko glanced at Homura, eyebrows raised. The raven-haired girl gave her a shake of the head to indicate she had nothing to add, or possibly that she objected philosophically to anything resembling overriding someone else's free will. It's a grey area, Kyoko admitted, teeth bared in an almost fierce smile. Homura was stepping back to exit the aisle and catch up with the others.

Be nice to Sayaka. Or, better, Stay away from her. So many things she could say, things she might be able to make true. At least, for a while. Compulsions never lasted long, and messing around with people's behavior could lead to startling unintended consequences. Usually, it only worked well on people with little willpower and self-restraint, drunken men being prime candidates. Given her back story Kyoko suspected Hitomi had no such deficits, rather possessing those attributes in abundance. But it worked on everyone, as long as it was something the victim wanted to believe.

The moment passed.

"Oh. Okay," Hitomi responded, somewhat dreamily. She slowly blinked and turned back to the music.

Kyoko walked away, raising a finger to the man who'd been making exasperated noises every time she'd walked past in the past couple minutes. It's a bunch of people playing instruments, not a bloody battle of martial artists in a hexagonal ring, or fat dudes slapping each other or something. What's the point of watching?

Two streets from the concert hall, the pinkette felt the Witch's presence clearly.

"May as well get ready," Kyoko said softly, the group traveling quickly and quietly by unspoken but mutual agreement. A brief vermillion flash and the three were treated to a brief flash of lithe, leggy redhead before she was staring at them, bristling in her red dress. "What are you looking at?" she hissed. "Get going!"

Madoka gritted her teeth, preparing for the psychic assault of the damaged, terrifying minds Sayaka kept inside her pocket as her friend was enveloped by a burst of light. The azure nimbus faded and her friend adjusted her rippling white cloak needlessly, but otherwise nothing happened.

"Hey!" the pinkette exclaimed in surprise. "They're gone!"

"Huh?" Sayaka looked confused. Then her eyes glazed over, but Madoka was continuing.

"Those Soul Gems, the ones you thought… you wanted to save," she finished.

"Oh shit," Kyoko whispered. I totally forgot! "Did they hatch? Is the one you sensed-" she glanced at Madoka, who shook her head. The redhead turned to her partner. "Where did you leave them? Were they still-" she motioned to the cape, clutched in the blunette's gloved hand, then noted the look on her face. "What? What is it?"

"I…" Sayaka began, taking a breath. "They got destroyed, in the fight with those… those assassins." She didn't even want to call them Puella Magi; they were like a completely different species. The anger and fear came simmering back up, but she welcomed them, a convenient shield against the crippling sense of guilt that threatened to swallow her up entirely. What she'd done… those poor girls...

"Sayaka-chan!" Madoka said, squeezing her friend tightly. "It's okay, it's probably better this way-"

You wouldn't say that if you knew!

"-they were… too far gone, I think, to want to come back," the pinkette finished. Homura gazed at Sayaka with narrowed eyes for a moment, but when Madoka looked at her for support, her expression went politely blank. "But it was a really good thing to try to do."

Kyoko was dismayed. Sayaka had burst into tears, and she was just standing there, feeling awkward, watching the pinkette console the new center of the universe. She reached out an arm, patting the blunette's back, feeling like an extra leg.

"Sayaka, Madoka's right," she stated, trying to sound encouragingly reasonable. "Those girls, at least they're at peace, now. Not like they're in heaven," she amended, feeling like she could be misinterpreted. "Just, you know. They're not suffering. Not Witches." Plus, less mouths to feed. So to speak. Just because something is true doesn't mean it's necessary to be brought up in conversation, though. She couldn't keep a proud little smile off her face. I'm getting better at this!

"You don't think they get to go to Heaven, Kyoko-chan?" Madoka asked, puzzled.

"I…" Don't believe in it?

"If there is a heaven, I'm sure they'll get to go there, Madoka-chan," Sayaka sniffled, getting control of herself. Worse than embarrassing. "Sorry, it's just… they were people. Girls, Puella Magi, like us! I know you guys think… think they were a lost cause, but…" She sighed, looking defeated. "Maybe you're right, maybe I'm stupid to think..."

Homura's eyes widened a fraction, as if she'd just caught something. Kyoko hadn't caught anything, just more of the same taking-the-problems-of-the-work-on-your-own-shoulders thinking that was so hopelessly noble and frustratingly pointless. Luckily, she had noticed the transfer student's reaction.

"What?" she whispered, sidling up to the girl as the elaborately-outfitted pair ahead of them continued onward, towards the Witch that Madoka sensed.

"Nothing definitive," Homura began, then relented under the flat crimson stare. "Fine. It's just a guess. But… Sayaka was very interested in saving those two… girls," she went with, deciding to be generous. Witchbait. Time bombs.

"Yeah, so? Sayaka's got a save-the-world complex."

"You say that flippantly, but we both know the truth of how dangerous that is. Sayaka wanted to rescue those girls, somehow bring them back to life, right?" Kyoko nodded; that had been the admittedly vague plan. "She wants to know it can be done. Maybe she wanted to do it because…" she paused, but had gone too far, the redhead staring at her impatiently. "Think of who else she might be thinking of trying to bring back."

Kyoko's eyes narrowed, the widened. "Do you think she might be-?"

"No, I don't. She's dead, Kyoko."

"I know, but…"

"Head bitten clean off. Chomp. And chewed to a pulp. Swallowed." The brief flash of hurt made Homura soften her tone. "Nothing was recovered. I got the Witch, but… no body, no Soul Gem, nothing. I'm sorry." Surprised, Homura found that she meant it. Mami had been a pain, sometimes, but the effect the girl had on Kyoko made her feel maudlin. "But, knowing Sayaka…"

"She's holding out hope." Good for her, part of Kyoko said. The rest of her rebelled at the notion of false hope, setting yourself up for disappointment like that. "Nice work rescuing them, by the way. I'm glad you were there, watching out for them." Kyoko cleared her throat.

"Tomoe-san was watching over them, too," Homura added, trying to be gracious to the blonde, and more importantly, Kyoko's feelings towards her. But she instantly realized she had badly miscalculated.

"No, she put them in danger. I get it, why she would," Kyoko growled in a low voice, almost to herself, "sort of, anyway." Lonely. Desperately lonely. And who's fault is that? "She put them into danger, but couldn't get them out. You did. You got them out. So, yeah."

Homura digested this as they walked, turning into a nameless, darkened alley. She wasn't used to even implied praise, and getting a dose from the redhead was invigorating. The feeling was almost obnoxious in its strength, and she tried to quell it, but couldn't help walking with just a little more enthusiasm.

"We're getting close," Madoka cautioned, looking around with those wide, pink-irised eyes. Sayaka dropped back, talking quietly with Kyoko. Homura took her place ahead, keeping her eyes on the rooftops.

They approached the barrier, feeling the twisting portal of nether hanging, energized, in the middle of the alleyway. What is it with Witches and alleys? Sayaka wondered.

"Something's wrong," the pinkette stated quietly, sounding confused. Strained. "It's like… I think I feel more than one."

"More than one inside the barrier?" Sayaka turned to look at Kyoko, desperately trying not to show her fear and dismay. For her part, the redhead looked grim.

But Madoka was shaking her head. "No, off in the distance." She pointed.

Each took a moment to digest that; two Witches in a night was rare enough, but for two to be in such close proximity… "First things first," Kyoko declared, stepping toward the barrier. "Let's do this." The long, gleaming spear materialized, followed by shining blade and glowing bow.

Homura had been circumspectly holding her large-caliber pistol the entire journey, scanning rooftops and corners with darting eyes.

It felt like it had been a long night already. Homura put a hand to her stomach, frowning. It had been bothering her all evening. Maybe I should call it a night after this, she considered, eager for some reason to retreat to her bedroom and find oblivion in sleep.

In part, she was nervous. Nothing to be nervous about, it's an opportunity, not something to dread. Still, the looming prospect of a completely alien environment rattled her. She'd gotten used to the routine of school, and the freedom her mastery of the subject matter had afforded her.

But that wasn't the only thing troubling her. Sitting between Madoka and Sayaka, she'd felt… disconnected. Like, maybe she wasn't supposed to be there. In the way. When Madoka had invited her, she couldn't refuse. Well, she could have, and maybe should have, but instead took the pinkette up on her offer. Time to spend with her dear, cherished friend, pretending that life was normal, everything was going to be okay. Realizing that she wouldn't be seeing the girl at school tomorrow, for the first time in what must have been forever.

All that, and the prospect of Madoka fawning over the musician boy, had soured her mood. Kyoko and Sayaka's in-your-face antics hadn't helped, either.

Madoka shot her another glance, her frilly pink and white dress bouncing slightly along with her stride, a hand reaching out to give her own a squeeze. Focusing, Homura blanked out the malaise that was slowly consuming her, giving the pinkette a smile she hoped passed for genuine.

The rooftops had been free of danger the entire way, but she wouldn't let down her guard until they were inside. She waited for Madoka to pass through the barrier, following Kyoko and Sayaka, before allowing the vicious grip of the pseudo-dimension to engulf her, drawing her into the madness.

Beloved readers, it has been far too long. Next chapter will follow almost immediately. As always, your thoughts are extraordinarily appreciated.