CHAPTER 1: Setting Out In The Morning

"Do you know?"

"Do you know?"

"Have you heard the news?"

Oh, swell. The Girls' Gossip Chorus were at it again.

"Hot off the rumor mills in Mizuna Ward!" The photographers' cameras flashed as the girls flaunted their legs, pouted their lips and struck their practiced poses.

"Do you know? Do you know? I heard it from my cousin, she heard it from her friend. Who learned about it from her aunt's neighbor!" Sure. Sounds like a reliable source.

"I heard from my brother. He's got this friend who has a roommate. His roommate heard the story from his Dad's old business pal!" Like a long-distance game of telephone. Just cut to the chase already.

"There's this girl! There's this girl! There's this girl whose face looks just like any other girl's! She goes around and she saves the world!"

"She saves the world?"

"She saves the world!"

Right. She saves the world.

"My friend's aunt's neighbor's daughter's alarm busted right before her college entrance exam. She overslept and she wasn't going to make it in time! But then this girl showed up in her room, and a miracle happened! She woke up in her pajamas right there on time in front of the testing hall!" Okay, then. "That test was the world to her and she passed with flying colors!" Cool that she aced it in her PJs, but that is really stretching the definition of what saving the world means.

"My brother's roommate's Dad's business partner lost his prized possession!" Just a guess… It meant the world to him? "It meant the world to him! It was his late fiance's audition demo tape. She recorded it on the night before she died!" A touching story, almost sounds too good to be true. "The girl showed up in his studio posing as a client, then she helped him track it down and even discovered it had a hidden bonus track made just for his ears only!" A bittersweet tearjerker with a better-than-happy twist at the end? Yeah file that right to the 'Too Good To Be True' drawer.

"I have a story!" Another young lady cut in. "I have a story!" More like she butt in.

"You do?"

"I do! I do!"

"What'd you see?"

"What'd you hear?"

"Who told you about it?" The cameras paffed their flash bulbs. They turned their bodies and struck their poses on cue.

"I know a girl who knows a woman who's the friend of a mom of a girl who lives three towns over," She said. "And that poor girl's little sister died last year!"

"That's awful!"

"How sad!"

"So tragic!"

It was all those things, and regrettable, but the risk of premature death is just a part of living a fulfilling life. Humans wouldn't be who they are or what they've done without that ever-looming specter reminding them to make each moment count.

"She was so sad. She was so alone. She was in such low spirits when she…" The pause was either for drama or for a more accurate recollection. Whatever the case, the girls listening were waiting for it with bated breath. "Was walking home one day. That's when a creeping spectre surrounded her with its minions!"

"Creeping spectre?"

"With minions? Ewww!" They tried to hide their disgust through their phony smiles.

"She really thought she was gonna die, too!" She went on with her story, but unbeknownst to them the story and its teller had acquired an extra engaged pair of ears reading a magazine on an Ottoman nearby. "And the monster was teasing her! Saying stuff like 'Big Sis should die!' And 'Big Sis was a Bad Sis!' And 'Big Sis must suffer!'" Uh-oh. Though it might have sounded pretty out there to the group, to their new listener, this was the story that sounded by far the most plausible.

"What was it?"

"Was it Lil' Sis's spirit?" The cameras paffed.

"Did Lil' Sis become a demon?" And they paffed again.

"But as she stood there, face-to-face with death, ready to be whisked away," she recounted. "That's when a blinding blue streak of light sped across the sky!"

"A blue streak of light?"

"It streaked up and down and from end to end, then before she knew what was going on, the monster was sliced to bits and she was alive and okay!"

"Wow!"

"Oh, thank goodness!"

"Yeah, but…" Yachiyo Nanami had heard enough. It was half past ten. Almost time for the star of the shoot to appear before the cameras and strut her stuff. Next would be Yachiyo's time to take the stage, and she needed to have her clothes and make her face ready to shine.

"Miss Nanami? The makeup room is prepped and ready," The assistant informed her.

"Thank you," Yachiyo stood up and graciously waved her off. "I can apply my own makeup. I appreciate your offer of assistance, but it won't be necessary."

"Are you sure?" Between the two a stomach anxiously growled.

"Yes," She waved her off with a wave of her hand. "Go enjoy an early break." And with that the assistant split while Yachiyo retreated inside her temporary personal sanctuary.

"Not good," Yachiyo sighed to herself. "That's the seventh magical girl story I've heard pop up in the past four weeks!" At the rate these random sightings were cropping up, she feared their existence would be exposed as public knowledge by next Christmas.

"But the real question, I suppose, is why are these stories getting so pervasive now?" She muttered aloud to herself as she brushed through her hair. In her experience during her long stint of seven and a half years as a magical girl, normal humans had this bizarre yet almost charming practice of rationalizing witch attacks and subsequent magical girl sightings as something more conventional and befitting of their science-driven, naturalistic worldview.

The shimmering entrance of a witch's lair at night? That was merely the refracted light of Venus. The sightings of wandering familiars? Stray cats, dogs, tanukis, and other city-roaming nocturnal wildlife. A magical girl patrolling the streets? Cosplayers and stage performers, any demonstration of their powers handwaved as all a part of the show.

Had Kyubey been selectively editing peoples' memories in order to protect magical girls' identities from the ignorant masses? It was possible. He once claimed to her that his kind had been on Earth dating all the way back to when humans lived naked in caves, it was not a stretch to assume he was keeping its race and their creations a secret through some sort of psychic manipulation. And now that he had taken his permanent leave there was no one to prevent these incidents from becoming local hearsay. Then local hearsay would sprout into more widespread rumors, and if something about it wasn't done fast, widespread rumors were going to turn into stories investigatable to the most morally dubious types of people in positions of power and authority.

The fortune teller Oriko Mikuni had warned them in her parting message that their existences would come out as public knowledge eventually. But the hopeful person in Yachiyo believed they would have several years worth of lead time. Yet the realist on top dreaded that the lead time would be more measurable in weeks or months. An 'I told you so' is all the more irritating when it's coming from the back of one's own head.

"A blue streak?" That was a curiously specific detail. Last time she heard it was a brash blue streak which protected an old widower hiking his way down Mount Kamihama. Several rumors before that had pegged a similar-sounding figure in blue helping out a lost pair of grade school tourists who had stumbled their way over to the abandoned mall in Daito Ward. "Probably a coincidence," She tried to dismiss it as she laid the foundation of her first layer of makeup. "But still…" She knew someone whose partner described her often with those terms.

The cell phone on her dresser abruptly rang. Under normal circumstances she would've turned it off before getting ready, but she had been waiting for an urgent call from Mitakihara Prefecture's Child Protective Services. "Hello?" She put it on speaker as she applied her eyeliner.

"This is Amaki with Mitakihara Child Services," The voice spoke. "Am I speaking with Miss Yachiyo Nanami?"

"Yes," Yachiyo replied. "I've been expecting your call." Then as she finished working on her eyeliner, she added, "But at the moment I'm getting ready for work."

"Is that right? I'll try to keep our chat brief, then." She heard the voice on the other end shuffle around some papers. "Regarding the case file of young Yuma Chitose. She is at present staying at your home in Kamihama City, is that correct?"

"That is correct," she answered. She took out a tube of lipstick. "Have you managed to track down her grandparents?"

"Unfortunately not yet," the voice sighed.

"Is that a cause for concern?" She applied it to her lips.

"If they're overseas as lil' Miss Chitose contends, then it's just a matter of contacting the right embassy and navigating our way through a bunch of red tape, that's all."

"Uh-huh."

"But if that's the case then I'm afraid her stay with you will have to be extended for a while longer."

"I don't have a problem with that." So accustomed to the feat of multitasking Yachiyo carried on as she was putting on her makeup's finishing touches while also thinking about that odd bit of connective tissue accompanying the rumors.

"I'm glad to hear it," The voice went on. "But if we're going to extend her stay with you we're also going to have to conduct some follow-up interviews with both yourself and young Yuma," They detailed. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience. If it helps we can schedule the interviews in our Kamihama wing for you."

"That'd be fine." There was someone she knew who had often been described by her partner as a blazing blue streak whenever she battled.

"Very well then," The voice was heard typing away at their computer. "How's three thirty today sound?"

"I have classes that go on 'til three, then some errands to run right after." Yachiyo fibbed a little. But today she did have a full slate of other plans. "But tomorrow afternoon I can spare a little time." One of the first rules of living a well-balanced life: Whenever you can, you should twist your obligations to suit your schedule instead of contorting yourself trying to fit into society's constant pressure cooker.

"That can work for us," The voice agreed. "Once again, thank you so much for doing this."

"Caring for Yuma is the very least I can do." That was not a fib, as Yachiyo came within a hair's breadth of taking away the life of one who was perhaps the young girl's last tether to humanity, Kyoko Sakura. All the while she was doing it under the unwitting influence of a villain holding a personal grudge. That their malicious mutual foe would use the image of Yachiyo's lost best friend Mifuyu as her trigger, it was still twisting a knifing sort of pain and disgust in her stomach. "Thank you for accommodating my rather complicated schedule."

"No problem," The voice on the other side cheered. "Best wishes."

"Bye-bye." The phone on their end clicked. Next she heard a knock at the door.

"Miss Nanami?" So much for peace and quiet in her personal sanctuary.

"Yes?" She had lost her previous train of thought.

"We'll have everything on the stage reset and ready for your shoot in ten minutes."

"I'll be ready by then. Thank you." She spotted someone's blue eyeliner on the shelf next to the mirror. She had been thinking something about a blue streak. Oh, yes… The rumor. It was a tenuous connection at best, but at the same time it was the only one from which she could launch an investigation. And that blue blaze and her partner do get around so much that talking to them might be an endeavor worthwhile enough to obtain a few other leads on the budding rumors. Plus, if she were fortunate, it was also possible they may possess information on where she might still hope to find the missing Mifuyu.

"Asukaaaa!" Sasara Minagi exclaimed to her partner. "Have you been going off on your own witch hunts again?" It was a little later in the day, some time past noon when Yachiyo's shoot had wrapped.

"Nooooooo!" Asuka Tatsuki denied. Her eyes were paired to a set of binoculars, she was staring with an intense gaze through the window across the street.

"The Great Miss Yachiyo Nanami here says that there's a magical girl out there slaying witches who happens to fit your description." Sasara meanwhile, was parked behind a table in an apron with a display of cookies before her.

"Please, just 'Yachiyo' will do," Yachiyo requested. Her well-known seniority status meant that some of her less personal acquaintances would refer to her with descriptive denotations or honorific titles, which made trying to hold a personal conversation with them a little awkward and uncomfortable. It implied a level of disparity where she preferred none to exist.

"Well whoever's out there doing that it's not me!" Asuka reiterated, her eyes still stuck to those binoculars.

"I'm not accusing you of anything," Yachiyo assured. "All I'm saying is that there's rumors depicting magical girls out there, and some of the descriptions are consistent and persistent enough that I'm concerned there's some individual whose actions may risk exposing us all."

"You hear that, Asuka?" Sasara tossed her long hair to one side and turned toward her companion.

"I heard it, I heard it!" The binoculars were pressed so tight they looked like they might have merged to her big, round, wide face.

"What's with her today?" Yachiyo asked Sasara. Asuka seemed a bit on edge, even more than typical of her.

"There's been a rash of graffiti taggings suddenly popping up and disappearing on some of the commercial and office buildings around the ward lately," Sasara explained. "By their movement patterns Asuka's convinced that that building across from us is next."

"So this is a stakeout? And what is she doing? She's-"

"Been staring at a wall," Sasara eyerolled. "All day. Awyup."

"To me it sounds more like an issue for the local police to handle," Yachiyo commented. "Isn't Asuka's cousin on the force? Wouldn't it be a better use of time if you two just went and told him all about it?"

"Asuka's convinced it's not normal-looking graffiti though," Sasara detailed. "What was the description you used, Asuka? That it was too-"

"Flamboyant," Asuka finished. "I bet there's a familiar out there who's right on the brink of becoming a witch," She added. "And I'm gonna take it down before it gets the chance to hurt anyone."

"Or more likely it's the work of a renegade artist," Yachiyo suggested. "I've read that in the western nations there's been a huge swell of anonymous artists who go out at night defacing any representations of consumer capitalism, and though the list is not long," She picked up a box of cookies. "I can imagine there's a few dozen or so in this nation who might be into jumping onto such a trendy bandwagon. A bunch in this town alone."

"Do you want to buy some?" Sasara offered. "Just five hundred and eighty five Yen."

She studied the crude homemade labeling on the side of the box. "Are they for a good cause?"

"Shinsei ward's fire department wants to erect a playground on the vacant lot not far from their firehouse," Sasara replied. "But a real estate tycoon's also negotiating with the city managers for it. The firemen have first dibs but they gotta pony up the cash before a deadline hits in the summer."

"If that's the case," She picked up another. "I'll take two."

"Thank you," Sasara smiled.

"We appreciate it," Asuka gave a 'thumbs-up' gesture without taking her eyes off the wall.

"How's your search for Mifuyu Azusa coming along?" Sasara asked Yachiyo.

"How did you know-"

"Tsuruno Yui told us," She interrupted, informing her, "Asuka and I have been going to Banbanzai for takeout whenever Manaka Kurumi's place gets swamped. Which is often."

"Banbanzai's not bad," Asuka opined.

"But it ain't great, either," Sasara whispered to Yachiyo. She then leaned closer. "So any luck?"

"None," Yachiyo sighed. "And to be frank, I've hit a bit of a brick wall. In nearly every city there's been a smattering of hearsay and some secondhand accounts of a girl who looks like Mifuyu, but it's been weeks since I've had a concrete lead." She took a brief glance in Asuka's direction. "I was sort of hoping you two could offer up some potential new ones, with you both being point girls of that Special Soul Support Stone Spreading Squadron that Kanagi and Company's Magical Union created."

"So far, we've gone as far north as Southern Hokkaido and as far south as Nagasaki Prefecture," Sasara detailed. "But I can't think of anything we've seen or heard that might relate to Mifuyu. But if something should come up, we'll let you know the second it happens."

"I appreciate it," Yachiyo nodded her gratitude.

"But if you want, Asuka and I could come along with you on your next expedition, just in case some other meanie out there tries to brainwash you into doing their bidding."

"No, that'd be-" Yachiyo stopped. "Wait, you know about that incident too?"

"Tsuruno told us," Sasara ratcheted her head slowly. "She... Wasn't supposed to?"

"No!" Yachiyo yelled. "And I specifically asked that she not do that, that Big Blabbermouth!" Tsuruno and her many foibles were enough to give Yachiyo frequent headaches and heartburn.

"Ooooooooops," Yachiyo's hurt was enough to pry Asuka's eyes off her binoculars for a brief look.

"Perhaps she was just trying to get back at you," Sasara suggested.

"Back at me?" Yachiyo's head snapped over. "For what?"

Sasara and Asuka turned towards each other, gave one another a long stare, and shrugged. "We dunno," Sasara answered. "But last time we were there whenever the topic of you came up Tsuruno went into this huge, angry fire-breathing rant! Like she was really mad at you about something."

"Is that right?" And now she felt a long cold blade of guilt plunging into the pit of her gut.

"Yeah!" They both said in unison. "Is there something going on between the two of you?" Sasara asked.

"Nothing I should be getting into with you guys," Yachiyo replied. "Unlike Tsuruno I try not to make a habit of airing my dirty laundry in public."

"We understand," Sasara waved her open hand. "But if you wanna put that fire out, I think it's best you do it as soon as you possibly can!" She advised her elder.

"I'll go do that later today," Yachiyo responded. "Thanks for letting me know." She had already gone through in her mind a whole host of possible reasons why her normally sunny, eager-to-please and self-anointed one-time apprentice might be so upset with her, but ultimately, she kept circling back to just one dreadful one.

And that one and only reason being, The Truth.

"Mama, Mama! Wake up, Mama!" Despite having the most hyperactive enthusiasm of a kid his age, Tatsuya Kaname was having no luck waking his sleeping mother Junko on the futon in the living room. "Wakey, Wakey! C'mon Mama! Waaaakey! Waaaaaakeeeeeey!"

"Rise and shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine!" Madoka Kaname strutted in and ripped the blanket away from her body.

"Wuuuuuuaaaaahhhhhhaaahhhhh!" Their mother screamed. "Huh?" She rubbed her heavy, throbbing eyes. Dawn of a new day, morning of recovery from yet another hangover. "I'm awake! I'm awake! Sheesh, you two!" She put her hand atop her forehead, trying to shield those heavy lids from the morning sun. "Ugggghhhhh!" She groaned while she yawned. "Morning, Pumpkin." She muttered with as much energy as her lingering headache would allow.

"Breakfast is almost ready Mama," Madoka informed her in as low-key a tone as she could, knowing that her mother's head was still pounding in agony.

"Thanks," Junko peeked through her fingers at her winsome teen daughter. "Let's go brush our teeth first Kiddo!" She tried putting on the closest thing she could approximate to a happy face.

"Actually," Madoka blushed as she rubbed the back of her head in an apologetic way. "I've already brushed this morning. Papa thought you might want to sleep just a teensy bit longer this morning."

"Oh? Did he now?" She glanced over at the wall clock. "Aw, craaaaap!" He let her sleep in a bit too long. She was going to have to choose between a thorough brushing session and applying her makeup. And since the only highlight of brushing every morning was the chance to chat and gossip with her daughter, who had already completed the chore, there was no decision to be made. Mouthwash and peppermint spray were going to have to serve as cover enough for the alcoholic smells left behind by last night's after hours hard boozing session.

"What's wrong, Hon?" Her husband asked as they were all gathered at the table for breakfast.

"Hmm. The eggs don't quite taste right," She complained. "Not your usual four star restaurant-quality fare, Dear."

"That's because I was the one who cooked the eggs," The girl sitting to Madoka's right uttered her first words at the table. That girl was Homura Akemi, Madoka's second-newest classmate. She was a transfer student who joined Madoka's class a little under a year ago, and had somehow fast tracked her way to becoming Madoka's closest friend right alongside her amorous boyfriend Kyosuke Kamijo. "Have I prepared them incorrectly?"

"N- No," Junko shifted a little in her seat. "They're just a little runnier than what I'm used to." It was normally bad form to criticize a guest so polite and helpful as to assist in making their host's meals. But her lingering headache and her default confrontational personality both forced an opinion out of her lipstick-covered mouth anyway.

"My apologies," And Homura took the criticism without retort or offense. "I'm still a relative novice in the delicate art of food preparation." Just a wholly legitimate excuse.

"So I've been giving her some much needed pointers," Her husband Tomohisa bragged. "Once she admitted to me the only cooking tool she knew how to use was a microwave, well that I could not abide." So enmeshed this young lady was now with the family functions, she'd been getting cooking lessons.

"I think your eggs taste great, Homura." Madoka told her friend in her usual upbeat, cheery way. Junko could not help but notice that her daughter's eggs were also the ones that were the most thoroughly cooked and seasoned. Almost as if impressing Madoka were the only point of this whole exercise. Then Junko realized she was getting paranoid and jealous of her daughter's breakfast. She really must've hit that alcohol a little harder than usual last night.

"Thank you, Madoka." Next she noticed her friend's usual reserved tone buck up a notch after the compliment, as if to confirm her silly suspicion. Maybe she woke up on the wrong side of the futon too? Although there really was only one way to get out of a futon couch.

"Hey lookit, Mamaaaaohhh-" Three of Tatsuya's cherry tomatoes rolled off his high chair.

"Wo-" Junko reached out for the falling tomatoes. But before she could catch them another hand had already made the save. "Hey, nice reflexes!" She extended a compliment to their guest.

"Just luck, is all," Homura set the tomatoes back onto his tray, this time in a spot where it was harder for them to roll away.

"Yaaaaaaaaay!" Madooka's brother squealed.

"Homura," Madoka chimed as they both finished up. "We'd better hurry and get going now if we're gonna catch up to Sayaka and Kyoko."

"Alright," Homura stood up and bowed. "Thank you for allowing me to dine with you this morning."

Junko opened her palm and made a gesture towards Madoka for their usual 'good luck' morning high-five. But the hand Madoka should've extended back was already in the grasp of Homura's palm.

"Sooooo," Junko turned towards her husband after the two young ladies had finally ventured far enough beyond earshot. "Does Madoka have an important test or something I should know about?"

"Nope, not that I know of," Tomohisa replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious as to why that friend of hers was spending the night here again," Junko checked her watch. It was almost time for her morning departure as well. "So it was another sleepover session?"

"Like the one on Tuesday," He grinned. "And the one Saturday."

"And the one on Friday," She added. "And the one like Wednesday." She did a quick last check of the documents in her briefcase, making sure everything she needed at the office today was accounted for. "Sheesh. That girl spends almost as much time with our daughter as our daughter gets with her boyfriend. If she spends the night here any more often, I think we're legally obligated to declare her a dependent child on our tax forms."

"She really is a delight, though," Her husband complimented. "Once you crack through a bit past her quiet, polite and unusually disciplined exterior, I think you might find that she's quite a bit like-" He stopped himself suddenly.

"Like who?" Junko turned her head to one side.

"Eh, you're gonna be late, Honey!" He pecked her a kiss on the cheek and opened the door for her. "Go on! Have a great day!" As she stepped out he tossed her some special hangover tablets in lieu of ibuprofen.

"Thanks!" She shouted back. "I'm gonna need these!"

"Guuuuuuuaaaaawwwhhhh!" Kyoko stretched and yawned as they all met up and walked together. "That's the last time I fill in for ya' at one of Mami's boring-ass meetings as a favor!" She turned towards Homura. "Ya' need me to sub again, you'd better pay good and pay it all upfront!"

"What class could you possibly be failing so hard in, that you needed to be at Madoka's place for tutoring?" Sayaka asked Homura.

"Home Economics," Homura made a clandestine 'zipping' gesture to Sayaka behind Kyoko's back. With that Sayaka knew what the real subtext was, exchanging a wry smile with her black-haired friend.

"So what all went down in the land of miracles and magic last night?" Sayaka turned her head forward as she asked her red-haired friend posing as her cousin.

"Gaaaaahhhh!" Kyoko grunted in frustration. "Those dipsticks still can't agree on how we should get the word out about our special stones beyond 'Put a bunch of our friendliest faces out there on patrol and show them that they work and how.'" Kyoko rolled her eyes. "Like convincin' 'em's just gonna take one huge ass PR campaign."

"I would imagine that a lot of girls out there don't see any reason to change their ways," Homura said. "For them, Grief Seeds function just fine, and it's human nature to carry on with the status quo until either a catastrophe strikes, or the evidence of a looming crisis becomes so overwhelming that it's no longer possible to ignore."

"You wanna know what I remember most from living that other 'me's' life when I was merged with her as that..." Sayaka hesitated, prompting morbid yet intrigued looks from the other three. "Denial. Like, she was drowning in an endless sea of denial. Right up to the moment that Grief Seed popped out of her Soul Gem she wouldn't accept the idea that she was going to become..." She didn't want to say the 'w' word, fearing it would trigger another bad flashback. They approached a stop light at a crosswalk. "I mean heck, even while she was luring in victims, she was still one hundred percent sure she was an ally of justice." When the light turned green she stood there a few seconds longer than the other three. Homura walked a step back and took her by the hand. Next Madoka wrapped her arm around her waist.

"Might explain a couple of those jokers in Mami's silly club," Kyoko went on. "Some of 'em act like they don't even know the secret themselves!"

"They don't," Homura confirmed.

"Then I don't get why Mami doesn't call one of these big pow-wows and just spit it out, already!" Kyoko suggested. "Then that way they'll all know why these stones are so important and like haul ass gettin' 'em out to the rest of the magical girls of the world!"

"She's wanted to," Homura replied. "Numerous times. But I've been telling her all I can remember of my experiences trying to tell The Truth to the rest of you." They stopped at another crosswalk. "Believe me, if they're going to accept the nature of what we are, it's better if those words come from a person who they're the most intimately close to. Someone they know could never lie about such a thing." The light turned green and this time she was slow to resume walking. Madoka and Sayaka both were quick to reach back their hand to her. "Was there anything else of significance that transpired during last night's meeting?"

"Uhhhhhhhh," Kyoko strained to remember. But it was all so boring to her, the same as watching those dull slideshow presentations in Geography class, or being lectured by the Hall Monitor whenever she sprinted through the hallways. "One of 'em… Which one was it? Y'know that short-short girl with the sourpuss face? The Science Monkey?"

"Hinano Miyako," Homura name dropped. She'd been to enough of their meetings to know exactly who Kyoko's diminutive nicknames were referring to.

"Yeah her," The school had come within viewing distance as they walked. "She said there's been an uptick in repeat witch encounters. She doesn't think it's because of familiars breakin' off 'n' levelin' up either. They're leaner and meaner. She thinks that without Kyubey here to take the Grief Seeds away the more negligent magical girls are reusing their used Grief Seeds and hatchin' some way huger and hungrier ones as a result."

"That sounds pretty troubling," Homura agreed. "It puts an even greater urgency into distributing our stones."

"What about me?" Sayaka questioned. "Er, what I mean is, what about the other 'me'?" She clarified. "Nobody suspects there's something different about her from the rest of you, do they?"

"If anyone's met her, they ain't said squat about it yet," Kyoko answered. "Why? You worried about her?"

"Of course I am," Sayaka acknowledged. "But I'm speaking a little selfishly here too. 'Cause I don't wanna be on the wrong side of someone's mistaken identity hit if a bad guy out there pulls everyone into a grudge match like that stinkin' hypnotist girl."

"If anything like that happens, don't worry," Kyoko assured. "I'll protect yer hide. I'm like, fifty, oh and two in magical girl duels lifetime."

"You call getting routed by that Kamihama veteran a tie?" Homura ribbed as they made it to the campus grounds. Getting a rapport going with Kyoko was one of the ways she'd been trying to better her social skills.

"Hells yeah, I survived, didn't I?" Kyoko countered. "And then she gave me an apology. All in all, I think I came out of that dustup pretty well off!" The first bell opening the day had rung, they picked up their walking pace towards the building. "Hell, the only reason I said 'yes' to goin' to that pow-wow last night was 'cuz I thought she might be bringin' Yuma along. Not sayin' that the vet 'n' me are friends now or nuthin', but if she were on the ballot to be the President of that Merry Magical Girl Group she'd get my vote for sure!"

"President?" Homura turned her head.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that stupid shit," Kyoko reported. "They're gonna hold a vote next time on drafting an official Union President. Those three that helped us beat Walpurgisnacht, y'know, Ponytail Sis, Miss Fire Dance and The Blueblooded Orphan, they're all gonna vote for Mami."

"Momoko Togame, Tsuruno Yui from Kamihama, and Konoha Shizumi from Takarazaki City," Homura said as they reached the steps of the school. "That's already three votes for Mami. Is no one even going to mount a token campaign opposing her?"

"Yeah, that icy chick with the short hair is," Kyoko remembered.

"Kanagi Izumi," Homura specified. She wasn't surprised by this news. If there was anyone in that group who took the concept of communal responsibility with more solemn seriousness than Mami, it was that girl.

"Didja know that when two Queen Bees hatch and meet each other in the wild, by instinct they have to try and kill one another?" Sayaka commented. "I read that in our Biology book. That's the vibe I get whenever I hear you guys talk about the way Mami gets along with that other chick."

"Pffft, yah. More like, Mami's not used to not havin' everyone follow lock-step with what she says." Kyoko rolled her eyes at Sayaka's tangential factoid. "Tch. So bottom line is if Science Monkey breaks towards voting for Mami too, then that Kimono Girl in The See-Thru Specs one is gonna make it unanimous for the sake of the group looking strong and united or some bull."

"I bet you if that happens Mami's going to act like she doesn't really want the gig, even though she really really does," Sayaka further ribbed. "Then when she accepts she'll say something like 'Ohhhhh it wasn't my idea to have this great obligation foisted upon me, but now that it has, it shall be my honor to serve as your President and I promise to do my utmost best every single day'. Act humble while sounding superior about it. 'Tis the Way of the Queen Bee." They made their way up the stairs.

"Strange," Homura paused. "I'm so not at all used to hearing you of all people speaking ill of Mami this much."

"Baaaah, I knoooow," Sayaka sighed, appearing a little ashamed of herself. "Even weirder is that, to be honest, I barely even know Mami." They gathered their books in their lockers. "I can't help but wonder if a part of it's coming from my other self. Almost as if she's still nursing this huge grudge against Mami, blaming her for making her a believer in the cause, then pushing her too hard, then letting her die then and turn into a w-" She still couldn't bring herself to utter the last word. "And she's spewing all her leftover hate and bile outta my big, dumb mouth." She confided while motioning a fake dry heave of vomit with her hand. The door leading into the classroom was right ahead.

"But without having Mami to help you out and teach you guys," Madoka spoke in Mami's defense. "None of you would even be here to talk bad about her right now." That sentiment compounded Sayaka's bottled-in shame. They stepped inside the classroom.

"I do not deny that," Homura conceded. "And I'm grateful to have had her as my first magical mentor. But maybe the reason I'm not more bullish of that Kamihama Union's chances of forging an expansive and lasting alliance stems from all the past bad experiences I had with Mami. I fear it's made me too jaded to believe that there is anyone out there who genuinely has unselfish interests at heart." They waved their hands and activated their motion-controlled desks. "Don't get me wrong. I want this union to succeed, but I also don't want to be the one stuck holding the proverbial bag should it all come flying to pieces." The second bell rang, signaling the start of their day.

"Gooooooooood Mooooooorning Claaaaaaass!" Their teacher Miss Kazuko Saotome greeted them with her typical bright-eyed, bushy-tailed cheer.

"Good Morning, Miss Saotome," The class said at once in their typical blasé tone.

"I said, Good mor-ning, Nakazawa!" She noticed their classmate Nakazawa's head was ducked even lower than normal this morning.

"Uhhhhh… G- Good morning Miss Saotome."

"Better," She turned her attention back upon the rest of them. "Now before we begin our great adventures in education today, I feel I must report that we have a bit of a good news, bad news situation regarding our class's academic status." She whipped her head towards Nakazawa, who was still slumped in his chair. "Well Nakazawa, would you rather hear the good news first or the bad news?"

"I uh- uh- uhhhhh," He stammered. "Either is fine by me, I suppose."

"Oh, Nakazawa," Miss Saotome harrumphed. "You should know that girls don't respect boys who are wishy-washy and indecisive." She teased. "Fine. Let's begin with the good news first," She cleared her throat. "Here is a little something for you to tell all the cynics whenever they claim that one person can't make a difference," She detailed. "Thanks to the efforts of one particular pupil, your class's cumulative test scores were sufficient enough to ensure that Valentine's Day treat retreat to the aquatic park is a-go!" The English words 'All work and no play makes Kazuko-Sensei a very dull girl.' flashed on the digital whiteboard behind her. "Way to achieve! Hope you've all picked out your bathing suits!"

"Yeeeeessss!" One student cheered.

"Woo-hoo!" Another high-fived him.

"And the one you all have to thank for that is," She flexed her pointer between her hands and bent it in a dramatic fashion. "Missssssss Katsuragiiiiii!" She pointed her tool straight at Kyoko.

"Moi?" Kyoko pointed at herself in surprise.

"Yes, you!" Miss Saotome chirped. "Stand up and take a bow, Miss Perfect Score. You've earned it!"

"Hehehe," She timidly chuckled as she got out of her seat. "Uh, Th- Thanks!" She put her hands up and clasped them together like a race car champion as a few of her fellow students gave her applause. "Thhhhank you ssso velly moooosssh," She mouthed in slow English. Noticeably, all her admiring clappers were male.

"Scale it back a little, Miss Smartypants," Sayaka semi-sarcastically muttered into her redheaded friend's ear as something odd jabbed her in the back. It was a note from Kyosuke to Madoka. She was annoyed, but dutifully still passed along her ex-crush's message to her best friend.

"Tch, it wasn't that hard," Kyoko whispered back. "Didn't even study."

"And now for the not-so-good news," Miss Saotome closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. "It appears that your class no longer ranks as the aggregate highest scoring unit in the region," It was news that earned a couple indifferent shrugs instead of the collective consternation she was expecting. "C'mon kids! Haven't you got any sense of pride? Do you really want to be the class who presides over the decline of Mitakihara Middle School's long-held citywide and regional prestige?"

"Well, what chance do we have?" Sayaka argued. "When that new high-tech uber school across town's been poaching all the best students from around the city?" She glanced back to the seat that once belonged to Hitomi Shizuki. It was now occupied by Kyoko. She had made the transfer to her new school final and official just a couple weeks ago.

"I know that's where I'm headed come high school," One of the male students boasted. "Kyosuke, ya' comin' with me?" He asked Kamijo sitting to his right. "They got a musical arts program that's second to none!"

"I'm going wherever Madoka goes," He replied, clandestinely taking Madoka's response note while Saotome's back was turned.

"Do you think Hitomi's happy, now that she's at Satomi Academy?" Madoka earnestly wondered to her most longtime friend.

"I don't know," Sayaka said of her former friend. "To be frank, I'm not sure I even care what goes on with her anymore." To Sayaka, that bridge had been burned to smoldering piles of ash and dust.

"Hitomi dear, time to get up and start your morning!" Hitomi's mother called into her bedroom. What she did not know and couldn't see, was that Hitomi had already risen, plus she had also taken the additional steps of combing her hair, brushing her teeth, and was now putting on her new school uniform.

"I'm ready!" Hitomi yelled back while she double-checked her appearance in her vanity mirror. She quite liked the look of the Satomi Academy school uniforms. Green, white and rusty red were much better suited to her fashion sense than the Mitakihara School color patterns of old. Though thankfully wearing the complementary hat was optional. Her hair was much too soft and delicate for its shape to endure under any headwear.

"Hey, Mom?" She asked as she gnawed on her morning oatmeal.

"What is it, dear?" Her mother's back remained turned as she washed her pans and dishes from last night's dinner.

"Do you think it's appropriate for a girl to be the one who asks a guy out on a date?" She fidgeted a little with her spoon as she reached for her orange juice drink.

"Why do you ask me that?" Her mother paused. Her daughter had never once broached this subject of dating on her before. "Is there a particular boy in your new school whom you have your eye on?"

"No, it's just," Hitomi hesitated. "At my old school, boys would leave confession letters in my locker quite often. But towards the end of my time in that place, the notes stopped coming."

"They stopped?" She placed her hand underneath the faucet, and the motion sensor turned on her water. "Do you know why?"

"I believe the boys started to think I was playing too hard to get and gave up." She was lying. She knew the real reason was that her two unexplained incidents of waking up at that factory and that train station with no memory of how she got there caused them and the gossip mongers to start to view her as a wandering weirdo. And then at a point when her friends were supposed to be there to have her back, they suffered a falling out over the boy they all liked. That was the one time she did try to make the first move, and it backfired on her so completely that she had to change schools. "And though I haven't gotten any yet at my new school, I think I should take the initiative this time and try to find one for myself," If that was what it would take to make her move past the ordeal, so be it. "If you think that attitude is right." But she also wanted some support before taking the plunge.

"You are at an age where it is appropriate to experiment with any number of peer relationship initiation methods," Her mother explained. "I would not think it matters how your friendships begin, just that they start and they progress, and you learn about your preferences from the experience." Like a handbook, short and straight to the objective point, and spoken in a formal tone. Typical of her mother. She reached for the towel by the sink and dried her hands. "Does that answer your question?"

"I guess," She sighed. In the past, her mother would have told her to forget about dating and focus on her studies. Perhaps her opinion had shifted with the change in schools? Now that Hitomi was attending a school that was more in line with her family's well-connected station in Mitakihara, it was possible her mother viewed the boys at this new school as males worthy of courting her prized daughter. Whatever the reason, progress was progress, and Hitomi was happy to have an answer to her question. Even if it was a bit lacking in actual useful advice. "Thanks for your time," She uttered out of courtesy, figuring that could serve as a way to keep future discussions on the matter open.

"Your father is waiting to take you in the car," On cue, a horn outside beeped twice. "You better finish up now before you are late to class."

"Good morning class," Their male homeroom teacher bowed as their day began with the ring of the bells and a montage of computer graphics projected on their walls.

"Good morning, Teacher," The class said in response, keeping things strictly formal. Every now and then Hitomi would find herself missing her old teacher's random rants about boyfriends and eggs and cleaning tools, but losing it was worth the tradeoff of having an instructor who could actually stick to schedule once in a while.

"Before we begin today's lessons," The teacher went on. "I would like to take an opportunity to introduce you to our most recent addition to this class." Transfer students weren't a rarity at this hot-ticket school. So Hitomi kept her head buried in her study book.

"Greetings," An odd, but familiar voice spoke. It had been many months since she'd last heard it, so she wasn't sure it was the person she thought it was. So she raised her head very slowly so as to brace herself for another disappointment. "My name is Saya," Hitomi's eyes widened as her head peeked around the four other heads in front of her. "Saya Otonashi." Holy cow. Hitomi's mouth fell open. "I look very much forward to attending this school with all of you." Her eyes met Hitomi's, their smiles were simultaneous.

"Saya!" Hitomi tried her best to keep her excited voice low so as not to attract attention. "Over here!" As luck would have it there was an empty seat situated right next to Hitomi in the fifth row.

"Hello again, Hitomi." Hitomi still couldn't quite believe her eyes. The same jet black pixie bobbed hair cut, the same cute pin attached to her left side, the same compassionate eyes. If it weren't for the new uniform, she'd have sworn it was Saya exactly as she remembered last seeing her.

"I remember someone telling me that you'd gone back to Okinawa," Hitomi tried to recall exactly who, but couldn't. Probably one of the teachers. "I still had hope that you might come back some day, but I never dreamed you'd transfer over to this school."

"I did go back to Okinawa," Saya explained. "But it did not take me long to realize that this was the city where I wanted to stay," She elaborated. "But circumstances forced me to finish out the final semester there before I could return."

"Well, I'm so glad you're back," Hitomi said. "I like this school and everything, but I unfortunately haven't had much chance to try to socialize with the other students yet." She drew in a deep breath, and added, "And lately I've been feeling rather isolated." She could feel the swelling of a tear in her eye. She wiped it away before it could manifest for the others to see.

"Sorry to hear that," Saya took her hand. "You and I can talk it out later on. Is the lunch here any good?"

"For school food it's much better than it has any right to be." Hitomi replied. "It's a date!"

"Baldy's retiring?" Junko whipped her head around after dropping those hangover cure tablets her husband provided into her coffee. "Really? Baldy? That guy? The one you said would only go away after having an embolism while searching for exactly the right type of ink toner?"

"Yes, the one and only," Her coworker confirmed. "I thought I went over all the details with you while we were all out at Irimajiri's Bar last night."

"Oh, yeah," Junko flicked herself in the head. Last night was such a blur. She could vaguely recall that there was a reason why she hit the sauce a little harder than normal for their after work mingling riual. Celebrating the imminent departure of a disdainful superior, definitely checked.

"It's only effective this coming April," Her coworker detailed. "Latest word is that the Bigwigs are going to anoint a successor real soon, possibly even by this afternoon."

"Well that's very out of character for them," Junko noted. The firm she worked at was rated as one of Japan's most stable and safe bets for investors for a good reason. Every decision made at top came as a result of highly deliberative discussions, projections, focus group testing, product testing, and further debates then only made final once the endeavor was almost guaranteed to make the company money. She only joined them because its operations were so steady, being the only salary earner in the family meant she couldn't afford to be entangled in some disruptive startup's shady shenanigans.

"Most likely they want to prevent a power vacuum and a fight for his seat," Her coworker added.

"I can understand that," Junko commented. "But still, you'd think they'd want to have a few months of constant ass kissing and songs of praise from us peons down in middle management. Crave it, even."

"Worried you haven't done enough ass kissing to earn it, Junko?" He teased her.

"More like… Worried that an opportunity presented itself in secret months ago, and I was too caught up with putting out my own little fires to notice it pass me right on by."

"So you're gonna try and play it cool and act like you don't already suspect it, huh?"

"Hmmm? Suspect what?"

"There's no need to be coy with me," He facetiously scolded. "You suspect they've already selected his successor, and the meetings are just a formality. Ya' said so last night."

"Well the evidence we have certainly seems to make that plain as day." She really had no idea what he was talking about. But a big part of success at the office was faking having a clue even while one didn't have the faintest.

"I think you'll do great!" He congratulated her. "I look forward to seeing your face etched on all those plaques in the lobby."

"Oh? You're that certain I'm gonna get the gig?" She took a sip of her hangover cure.

"No," He corrected. "You're that certain." He burst into a big hearty laugh. "Hahahaaa… That's why instead of the usual twelve rounds, last night you pushed it all the way up to eighteen. Remember?" Damn. Helluva night for her to be setting a new personal record. She'd feel proud of it except for the fact that she didn't exactly enjoy looking so shitfaced coming home in front of her husband and daughter.

"Ooooooh, I remember," Junko itched the side of her temple. There was an article a few months ago in The Mitakihara Daily, a business feature which singled out their firm for criticism concerning the distinct lack of women in their upper echelons of management. At the time it was published it rustled enough feathers for the public relations department to issue a full page rebuttal, noting what they lacked in women at the top they more than made up for with women in other positions of significance. They even singled out Junko herself as a rising star. It only took them a decade to finally acknowledge her. With that tidbit of information finding oxygen out there in public, she figured that she was getting fast tracked up the chain of command. "But next time, I think I'll just celebrate with a healthy four course banquet dinner at Yamu Yamu's." She took another big sip of her steamy, bitter drink with the chalk-like residue of those tablets floating on top.

"Now try not to forget about us fellow worker drones when you get all the way to the top."

"Oh, don't worry," Junko assured. "Have I ever told you how many of the girls still stuck sorting crap down in the mailrooms and fetching coffee for the guys have told me I was a personal inspiration?"

"No. How many?"

"Just two," Junko smiled. "But I'm sure there's a whole lot of others who feel the same way."

"I'm sure there are," He wryly smiled. "Or they too were brushing up on their asskissing," He remarked. The deflated Junko shot him a displeased glance.

"Good morning, Missus Kaname." A well-dressed man appeared by their cubicle.

"Morning," Junko at once put forward her sunniest face.

"Management has put aside some time for a personal meeting with you today," Junko and her coworker's eyes went wide and made brief contact. "You better cancel those lunch plans and head on up."

"Best of luck, Junko." Her coworker waved and winked then went back to his own personal business.

"Thanks," Junko winked back.

"You want me to do what?" Junko cocked her head to the side. "Join as our liaison on the production committee of an anime?" She felt a muscle twitch hard reflexively somewhere between her nose and top jaw.

"That is correct," The gruff-sounding old man on the far left said. This sure wasn't the kind of promotion she was anticipating. Nor was she even sure it was any kind of promotion at all.

"We understand you have two children?" The higher-pitched man on the right asked. She knew that man. He started at the company the same time in the same branch as she did. But after she once declined a transfer to their American arm he leapfrogged past her. "Since this is our company's first venture into an entertainment production, we thought it prudent to gain the perspective across numerous viewing demographics." A decision she made out of deference to Madoka's academic and social needs the company heads may have read as an act of recalcitrance.

"Yeah, but uhhhhh," Junko slurred. "My little boy's a toddler and my little girl's getting to the age where she's got better things to do on a Friday evening than be a television watching layabout." She added, "Or so I should hope."

"Nevertheless," The man who was steepling his fingers over his mouth in the center spoke. "We believe you are the right person for this task. Do this job, and your next raise will come with stock options."

"But Sado's got two boys, like twelve and thirteen," Junko pleaded. "I would think his family would provide a better sampling than-"

"The decision has already been made. Are you saying our assessment was in error?"

"Not necessarily, but-"

"Good." He interrupted. "Your first meeting will take place tomorrow in the boardroom of the Tachibana Tower." He waved his hand as if he were shooing away an annoying fly. "Be there. You are dismissed."

"If I may ask," Junko looked over her shoulder as she headed towards the door. That she would be so bold as to say anything after dismissal seemed to cause among them a murmuring of discomfort. "What about the job that's being vacated in April? Has any decision been made?"

They whispered and rumbled among themselves for a few seconds. "It has." The man in the center answered. "But we are not at liberty to discuss it with non-shareholding employees."

"Ohhhh boy," Junko sighed once she stepped inside the elevator. "Why do I have this feeling that after this is through, I'm either gonna be having my saké by the jug, or I'm gonna quit boozing altogether?"