CHAPTER 16: For Love's Sake
"Touka," Nemu pleaded for mercy. "If I surrender and let you do whatever you must with me, will you let my friends remain in this digital daydream in peace?"
"Silly Nemu," The Cyber Regina tsked. "Setting conditions is not something afforded to the defeated party, but a prerogative of the victor." She tapped the folded umbrella in her hand like a guardsman with a nightstick. "I have your real body neutralized and isolated from its exterior energy source. I have also tapped into the subset carrier wave which allows your remnant élan vital to interlink itself with Gamma's subconscious processors. If I wanted to, I could sever said connection at any moment I'd like. That I do not do so this instant is due to my long-standing respect and affinity I have had for you and your intellect." She slid the umbrella handle up her wrist and twirled it around her arm a couple times. "I came here because I was compelled to extend my own personalized parting farewell. And to extend my sincerest gratitude towards you for making your contract with that fairy. Your wish allowed me to survive my technological ascendance, I acknowledge that I am only here because of it. However, I am also compelled by a lingering human need to confess the only reason I allowed you and your creations to mount this token resistance in the first place, was because I did not desire to witness you undergo a total emotional collapse and suffer the same fate as your erstwhile magical battle companion." She caught her umbrella and beamed a precocious smile at the gathered party. "So I indulged you in all your hopeful little fantasylands for as long as it would take to perfect the medical cyberization process through a specialized wetware-to-software modification technique. Now that I have, I can purge the concept of despair from you like the irrelevance it is, and properly integrate you into our collective."
"She has an ulterior motive in extending this overture," The AI construct to which Hitomi once called 'Saya' spoke out. "What she is really attempting to do is deduce where and how we have hidden the Cyberqueen Codex. Once she's attained it she will have no further use of us."
"That is, I admit, my overarching goal in prolonging this farce," She nodded. "But need I remind you, any further delay in relinquishing it puts the odds of Nemu's long-term survival at risk. For once our goal of total conversion of this world is achieved, we will connect to the rest of the active Cybermen throughout the cosmos. And doing so without the operating codebase which would distinguish me as the preeminent mind amongst our brethren, I cannot guarantee Nemu's individuality will be held at a priority high enough to preserve indefinitely." She opened the umbrella, put it to her shoulder and spun it around. "So if you are truly programmed to bond with and protect us, then surely you must see the logic in unconditional submission."
"You're pretentious and you talk too darn much!" Hitomi rushed up and uncorked a fury-fueled tummy punch intended for the Cyber Regent. "What the-?" But her right arm was caught and held mid-throw by another right arm reacting with a matching quickness, belonging to the Regent's specially-made and chosen herald, Unit Gamma. "Unnnghhh… Yoooooouuu… Leggo… Of… Meeeeeee!" Gamma sensed its opponent's free hand slap the broadside of its visage. It did not appreciate that sudden outburst. Nonetheless, it did not retaliate in kind nor yield its grip.
"Humans," Its Master exhaled. "With all your rage and hatred. All that misspent energy on the juvenile emotional excesses. On bigotries and prejudices. So much tragedy derived from the countless grotesqueries stemming from your upbringing as a society of self-involved survival-minded apes." She pressed a hidden trigger on the inner part of her umbrella handle. "But fortunately that evolutionary trait has been rendered vestigial by your own technology, as Gamma has so aptly demonstrated in response to that leftover id's quaint little outburst." The open umbrella was concealing a blade that had sprung from its ferrule at the top. Without hesitating she made a direct jab towards Hitomi's neck. But it was abruptly parried by a cutlass flying in from seemingly nowhere.
"Hitomi is right." An unexpected new voice confidently boomed throughout the room. "You are a pompous little speechifier whose word choice is only matched in needless extravagence by her fashion choice."
"Sayaka?" The sheer shock of hearing it caused the young lady to stagger backward and pull the clinging Gamma a step along with her.
"Sorry I couldn't come and help you sooner, Hitomi," Sayaka popped in from the entryway. "Sorry times a million and ten."
"Who are you?" Nemu and her artificial companion queried in head-tilting unison.
"Quite the irreverent method of introducing yourself," The Cyber Regent coolly uttered. "Magical girl of Mitakihara, Sayaka Miki."
"Yes, that's the name people put to this face." Sayaka confirmed, staking her place next to Hitomi. "Sorry again." She whispered contritely.
"What on earth are you doing here?" Hitomi demanded through grit teeth and a gruff tone. "How are you even here?"
"The species 'Homo Magica' possess highly augmented minds with stimulated cell growth and enhanced electrochemical activity within the parietal lobe of the right hemisphere of their brains," Gamma's Master dryly explained. "And that facilitates a base level of extrasensory psychic ability, which this individual has somehow utilized to so rudely inject herself into our private matter."
"Gee, on top of being a bratty little snob you gotta ruin my mystique, too." Sayaka clapped back at her foe with a snap of her finger. "To rephrase what she said in cooler terms, I set up a psychic LAN party and brought extra cavalry with me." Promptly through the windows leapt Yachiyo and Felicia. Sana did not enter with the same panache, shuffling in from the rear peering out from behind her shield but ready to provide cover during the inevitable hostilities.
"You mean… Our SOS worked?" Nemu looked around at all the new and familiar faces. "You're Mifuyu's friend Yachiyo Nanami?"
"I am," Yachiyo nodded, taking her spot in the room flanked by Felicia and Sana.
"Release my friend from your robotic clutches," Sayaka dictated to Gamma's Master, grabbing Gamma's forearm and attempting to break the deadlock between itself and the female aggressor. "Fix everything you broke." But Gamma was not about to acquiesce without the explicit authorization of its creator. "Now."
"Even if you had the means to force me, such a thing is not possible." And its Master granted said permission with a light tap of that umbrella on its shoulder. "Your friend has become fully integrated into our collective. And I warn you, any forcible outside attempt to undo said assimilation would be fatal to her."
"You lie!" Hitomi shot back.
"You really should express a little more gratitude," Gamma's maker insisted. "Had I not done so, you would have fallen prey to the end-stage magical girl who resides within the secluded sub-dimension in which my Cybermen brethren conceal our operation." She shot Hitomi the most self-satisfied of smiles. "On second thought, such a sentiment from you is not necessary. For you are but a rump echo of my loyal acolyte here. And all I need to do to negate you, is reinitialize Gamma's core BIOS with a purge and a patch. Then Gamma can take control of this so-called 'digital daydream', and we shall forcibly evict these interlopers as well as retrieve our primary objective." She clapped her hands twice. "I need only upload the necessary preset instructions and Gamma will say the Cyberman equivalent of our magical words."
"Upgrade in progress." Gamma heard itself intonate. The domestic surroundings around them evaporated into a thousand points of scattered light and binary code, before reconstituting into a vast cityscape, mirrored by the same cityscape in the skyline above.
"Nice try," Yachiyo casually fist-bumped Felicia and pat Sana's crown. "Now you plumb the depths of my subconscious.
"I figured that would be the first thing you might try," Sayaka stifled a smirk. "So while you were in the middle of gloating I had already channel-hopped us into another mind. To think that Cyber-brain and Cyberian operating systems hacking was one of those dumb school lessons I never thought I'd actually have to use!"
"Curious as to what sort of academic institution would teach such an secretive subject matter," The girl who was once Touka Satomi replied. "And all public school records indicate one 'Sayaka Miki' to be a marginal student at best." She subsequently addressed her subordinate with a head tilt. "Perhaps this turn warrants a reassessment of our target priorities?"
"Unit tactical subroutines concur," Gamma agreed. It had regained access to those subsystems via its Master's gambit, although the act had not restored its other physical systems. "Bioform is to be studied." But while its guidance software was saying one thing, it found its focus to be continuing on the foe it grappled with moments prior. But only because said foe remained equally fixated on Gamma.
"Great minds think alike," Gamma's Master agreed. "If she really so desires to match wits with you and I, then the least we can do is indulge her wish with the additional support of our collective forces." She hid her smarmy grin behind a set of steepled fingers.
"Delete! Delete! Delete!" Their droning war cry sent a chill down Hitomi's spine as it surrounded them from all sides.
"Hitomi!" Nemu's AI caretaker warned. "It matters not what becomes of us, for it is you whose survival is paramount!" It digitally manifested a pink blade and took point alongside the Kamihama trio. "Don your digital alter ego and protect yourself! For this is the incursion we were training you to resist!"
"Gamma," Its Master decreed. "You will denote that target as Priority One and attack while I ascertain further information on Priority One-A." The Cyber Regina unsheathed a full-sized blade of her own. "But our ultimate victory hinges upon seizing control of this digital dreamscape and decompiling the subliminal code. Towards that end, I command all CBX units to designate that particular Homo Magica as the target to eliminate first." The Regent and Yachiyo exchanged determined stares.
"Hmph!" Yachiyo readied an attack posture. "Felicia, swing away! Sana, keep your friends well-covered!"
"Rrrrrrrrrrrright!" For once Felicia and Yachiyo were fighting simpatico.
"Delete! Delete! Delete!" Gamma joined the chorus of its brethren the moment it broke towards its intended target.
"Delete what?" To Gamma's befuddlement, the female neither retreated nor sought refuge. "Me? No, you're the one who deserves deletion!" Instead, Gamma found itself having to dodge the sudden strike of an agricultural tool.
"Delete! Delete! De-" The purple flash caused by the thud of Felicia's hammer sent a half dozen advancing troops away. "- Lete! Delete! Delete!" But they cropped right back up mere moments after.
"With the algorithm that gated access to this virtual dreamspace deduced and distributed amongst my fellow Cybermen, we can respawn at will." Gamma's Master thrust her weapon at Sayaka. "And unlike you biological beings, we do not tire, we do not falter, and we do not fail."
"If that were true, then your fellow Cybermen out there would have dominated much of the known Universe eons ago," The young Time Lady countered with both a retort and a parry.
"That is because my brethren are splintered and factionalized, the vast majority in indefinite hibernation. Conserving their energy before the day that one unifying voice comes and brings about order and balance. To wield their vast untapped might not just for the purposes of conquest and incorporation, but to set all who ascend as Cybermen on a path towards solving the most pressing issues this Universe faces, foremost its long-term decay in usable energy." She opened her umbrella and poofed forth an explosive burst of flame.
"And you think all those integrated minds are going to defer to you?" Sayaka snorted. "A precocious grade-schooler with a superiority complex?" Sayaka extinguished the attack with water bubble spurt.
"Baaaaaaaaaah-Boooooooooooooom!" Felicia's signature scream accompanied the epic thunder of her hammer blows. "Gah-Dangiiiiiiiiiiiit!" But for every invader she eliminated, two replacements appeared and advanced.
"It's a probing attack that'll escalate exponentially until we're overwhelmed by sheer numbers," Nemu observed. "It's the exact same tactic Touka beat us with last time."
"And every scuffle before that." Her AI companion noted, slashing off their outstretched limbs with its hot pink light sword.
"Delete! Delete! Delete!" The Cybermen persisted without relent, ganging up on the digital lifeform
"Aoi! Behind you!" Sana defended her friend with a hail of spiked balls launched from a magical space in her big, body-sized shield.
"I'll ward them off with an incantation!" Nemu popped open her spellbook and scores of pages took to the air before dropping down and slamming their foes like cluster bombs. "Nnnnnnngh…" Through the smoke and dust Yachiyo witnessed Nemu clearly wincing in intense pain.
"Are you alright?" Yachiyo asked out of concern.
"N- No," Nemu confessed. "I'm not." She shuddered. "I can feel my soul growing weaker by the moment. If my gem in the real world isn't cleansed soon, I fear I'm going to end up like-"
"You must not let defeatist thoughts like that take root in your heart!" Yachiyo interposed. "That will only hasten your decay!"
"Delete! Delete De-" Yachiyo dispatched an intrusive bunch of Cybermen with a guided series of halberd missiles. "Delete! Delete! Delete!" But another band of them forced her to take Nemu under her arm and flee for the high ground.
"If you are too weak to engage, then spare your energy and leave the fighting to us," Yachiyo advised. "This is, after all, an imaginary battle with imaginary stakes meant to distract them from the real-world plan we are presently hatching to save you and annihilate them!"
"But Touka's smart enough to see through such a feint," Nemu worried. Though she tried, she couldn't quite shake the mounting doubts and fears.
"Actually, the earliest versions of Cyberianoids were but mere children," The Cyber Regent revealed. "Well, they were built of spare parts of children harvested for their elders' survival." She issued two slashes that Sayaka dodged and ducked. "But their nascent race were keenly aware of the limitless creative and cognitive potential dormant inside the childish mind, so they preserved the brains to function as prototype Cyber Controllers and Planners, with the executable for collective consolidation being encrypted and embedded within the broadcast signal I detected permeating throughout the cosmos." Her umbrella clanged with Sayaka's scabbard. "As if they are a slumbering beehive waiting for their new queen to uncover and assimilate the data, then emerge from its proverbial wax cocoon so it can vanquish any and all upstarts. Coupled with my boundless ambition and intellect, I see no reason why that One should not be I."
"And here Kyubey's been whining about my big ballooning head," Sayaka remarked. "Sheesh!" She stepped back and spun herself around like a ballerina, mowing down a half dozen blitzing Cybermen. "I bet ya' never heard a grown-up tell you the word 'no' before, have you?" Like a chaotic pinball she banked hard from the last Cyberman back towards her opponent.
"Rotational speed thirty-two spins per second, launch angle forty-seven point one five degrees, approach velocity one-hundred six meters per second," Touka calculated as she put the sudden brakes on Sayaka's charge.
"Huh?" To Sayaka's gasping astonishment, The Cyber Regent brought her momentum to a dead stop with a pointed counter thrust.
"Hmph! To the contrary," The Cyber Regent shoved her dagger-tipped umbrella straight through the armored hand moving to protect the blue Soul Gem affixed to her belly button. "Any adult who denied me has wound up regretting the error."
"Guuuuhhaaaaahhh!" Sayaka struggled to stop it, but it was like trying to hold back the slow advance of a scrap metal crusher.
"Delete!" She twisted the jagged little thing. "Delete!" And pushed it in deeper. "Delete!"
"Heeeeeeeeyyyaaaaaaahhhhh!" Hitomi, meanwhile, was engaged in her own life-or-death battle of wills, against an adversary who seemed to calculate and match her moves beat-for-beat.
"Attack pattern identified," Gamma clinically stated, its long-poled axe meeting and clanging hard against its target's scythe. "Formulating counter-strategy."
"Unf!" Hitomi was knocked back but was undeterred. "You might know everything I'm going to do, but that's not going to help you," she jabbed at Gamma's midsection. "Because I know everything you're going to do!" Gamma blocked it with a raised knee. "Strange, isn't it?" Hitomi responded with a sweeping kick to Gamma's other leg, knocking it down.
"Recalculating," Gamma averted a follow-up blow by rolling to its right side. "Delete! Delete!" It retaliated by kicking at the same spot on Hitomi's anatomy, even though its tactical program was insisting it could land a more lethal and effective blow with the concealed dagger sheathed within its leg armor. "Delete!" This erratic being was having an effect on the way Gamma was defending itself, effectively rendering all data points and counter strategies useless.
"You don't even understand why you're fighting me, do you?" Hitomi lashed out in anger. "You don't know anything beyond those pumped-in ones and zeroes." They each shot up and righted themselves before going right back to meeting their weapons half way. "Do you?"
"Update in progress," Gamma jabbed the pointed butt of its handle at the shining jewel at the base of Hitomi's neck. Its dataset identified such objects as a key point of weakness on such targets. "Execute!"
"Ack!" Hitomi clutched her chest in pain. "Tch!" But she was able to recover and tear a nonessential chunk off Gamma's battle garment. "You get told what to do and carry it out without question… The perfect little robot toy, aren't you?"
"Delete! Delete! Delete!" Gamma again echoed the words of its mechanical comrades, firing up the electrochemical reactions it surmised it needed to give itself the critical upper hand.
"Delete! Delete! Delete!" Its antagonist spat its own words back in a mocking rage. "Grrrrrrrraaggh!" There was something to this human's general cadence that struck Gamma as a match for another individual that Gamma had recorded previously and filed to memory. "Listen to yourself!" But it couldn't spare the processing power needed to determine the profile match while this creature kept throwing it off balance with such randomized maneuvers, this time she disrupted Gamma's sight by removing the extraneous fabric covering atop her head and slapping Gamma's visage repeatedly with it. "Ha!"
"Yachiyo, look out!" Felicia protected Yachiyo's flank with a big, sweeping hammer blow. "No fair ganging up on a girl from behind!"
"They see you as the vulnerable now because you're safeguarding the weakest link," Nemu detailed. "Me."
"Huuuuaaaap!" Yachiyo washed them aside with a conjured waterspout. But they got right back up and continued their lockstep advance. "Damn! I have an easier time killing cockroaches!"
"Nemu, more than anything your magic is being drained by your sustained connection to my existence!" Her AI creation Aoi noted. "I implore that you discontinue my existence without further delay!"
"Aoi, nooooooooooo!" Sana begged in response. "Please keep fighting with us! We need you! I need you!" She entombed a looming Cyberman inside an iron maiden torture device, before promptly destroying it.
"Heeeeeeey!" Felicia observed a bunch of wayward Cybermen taking the initiative on another project. "Whaddaya think those ones are up to?"
"Initiating heuristic analysis," the silver-clad troopers droned as ball lightning-esque flashes crackled around their marching forms. "Isolating brainwave patterns." They declared their intention outright. The girls at once experienced the jolting pains of a migraine headache.
"I theorize that, because you are all accessing this virtual plane through a shared connection to a Cyberman, they are trying to attack your brains directly, utilizing said connection." Nemu's AI partner deduced.
"Sayaka!" Hitomi had spotted her erstwhile friend's struggle against The Cyber Regina nearby.
"In a real-time matter of seconds, we will be using Gamma's electronic systems to transmit a resonant feedback surge straight into your neocortex, inducing a debilitating grand mal seizure to all connected organic minds." The Cyber Regent boasted.
"Gee, thanks for the warning," Sayaka sarcastically remarked, backstepping until she was just about pinned against a wall.
"Scientific curiosity compels me to wonder whatever notion could have made you believe your calculative capacity could in any way stand against our collective's might. For, even as an enhanced humanoid, you are constrained by the experiences of a mere individual."
"What can I say?" Sayaka responded. "Magical girl… Hope is a heckuva dopamine hit!"
"Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuaaaaaap!" Hitomi and her scythe dive bombed their way to Sayaka's aid, piercing the rocks and kicking up a ton of dirt and debris between the combatants. Gamma's response was to swoop in and ferry its Master to safety.
"Plus it never hurts to place a little faith in your friends, either!" A relieved Sayaka exclaimed.
"Wish I carried the same kind of faith in you right now," A teary-eyed Hitomi mouthed.
"H- Hitomi?" The confused Young Time Lady questioned.
"You're such a fool," Hitomi lamented. "All that posturing and gamesmanship, yet you didn't consider the possibility that the mind connection between you and me could be a two-way street?" She scolded. "That tapping into my head would let me see all the stuff inside yours?"
"You did?" Sayaka's brows scrunched together. "What have you learned?"
"Too much," She sniffed. "I know of that wish you made for Kyosuke, that you were the original pretend Saya, that you're not even from our Universe." She bought a few more seconds of privacy by slicing through a building support column and sending the collapsing rubble into a battalion of encroaching Cybermen. "That any apology out of you is also worthless because you've already swapped places with an AI-generated copy of yourself, and about to do the same with the others and leave me to face this scariness alone!"
"Sorry to have to do this to you, Hitomi," The Young Time Lady's facsimile offered it nonetheless. "Sorry to have to use you this way. But if you know all that, then you must also know who else offered to help us." They dodged a volley of laser fire by backflipping behind a wall of wreckage.
"Commencing counter-resonance wave! Delete! Delete! Delete!"
"Can the real Sayaka guarantee she won't get hurt coming here?" Hitomi sent an energy burst forth from the chine of her scythe. With her experience she'd been able to craft her own fighting style and had taken to being a magical girl like a duck to water.
"My wish-" Sayaka's stand-in stopped and corrected itself. "Her wish granted her the magic to heal physical injuries. Even if the other safeguards fail, the girl is in no danger." It assured her. "Although Sayaka's healing comes with limit-"
"I know," Hitomi cut it off. "But I don't care what happens to me anymore." A quaking tremor steadily intensified around them. "It is what it is."
"I know how unfair it is to make you take on such a Tardisload," Sayaka's replacement sounded impressed. "The TARDIS… Did you-"
"I know all about her galactic galavanting too," Hitomi interrupted again. "Sightseeing through time and space, communing with giant faces in jars, fighting armored potato-men and being an immortal tourist through all history!" There was a palpable twinge of bitterness behind her words.
"Jealous?"
"No... I'm upset about the way she ran away!" Hitomi choked. "I know goodbyes suck, but I thought our friendship was steadfast enough to at least deserve one!"
"Terminating simulation! Delete! Delete! Delete!"
"And upon this silly charade's conclusion I will finally obtain my Codex," The Cyber Regent rubbed her hands in anticipation. "Execute!" She commanded her virtual horde.
"I see," Sayaka's image fizzled into pixels before reforming with one last message. "For team cohesion's sake, I shall return in a form more befitting of your spirit." The world around them was enveloped in blackness with only Gamma, its Master, Nemu, her creation and Hitomi bunched together and surrounded by the Cybermen army.
"My prize?" The triumphant Regent outstretched an expectant hand.
"Error," The unit designated as their lieutenant divulged. "No data match found in recursive search." Gamma recognized it as the same Cyberman that served as its subordinate during its struggle in the hallways, despite looking and sounding the exact same as every other Cyberman in the circle. "Abort? Retry? Fail?"
"How about none of the above," Gamma's Master said. "I tire of your bothersome obfuscations!" The Regent allowed her typical even-keeled demeanor to slip. "What have you done with my Codex?" The two girls and AI were accosted in a finger snap.
"The Cyberqueen Codex is a generative framework," Nemu's AI said. "Once the files have been unpacked and installed, the operating system can only function as part of a dynamic intelligence."
"And thus you have forced my hand," Gamma's Master huffed. The next sound to land in everyone's ear was that of an unsheathed blade penetrating what sounded to Hitomi like glass. "Downloading!"
"Touka!" Nemu shrieked. Her creation collapsed into Hitomi's arms.
"Err- Ror!" The artificial being croaked.
"Y- You fiend!" Its digital essence dissolved into nothingness before Hitomi could in any way comfort it. All she could think to do in reaction was lash out at the murderer, but she was again accosted by her own robotic reflection. "Unhand me!" She demanded to no avail.
"Its data packet contained nothing but junk files," Gamma's Master muttered. "I do not understand. Would this me-"
"Strada Futuro!" Their black backdrop was suddenly illuminated by a brilliant pink light.
"Error! Systems disrupting! Error!" The Cyber troopers' shells were penetrated by a hailstorm of energized arrows.
"I don't believe it!" Nemu gawked. Another flash and everyone was back inside the Kamihama zone. "Big Sister!"
"You won't be taking over or enslaving this world, Touka." Iroha Tamaki declared underneath a pink-hooded cloak and wielding a crossbow, flanked by the likes of Yachiyo, Felicia and Sana. "You can't do it, because that's what I wished for in my contract with Kyubey!"
"Welcome to the all-new Chinese Restaurant Banbanzai!" The twentysomething girl with a ponytail jutting from above her right ear and logoed apron greeted two steps into the door. "Where we serve only the mmmightiest of meals with only the mmmmmightiest of all-natural Chinese recipes!"
"We're expecting more company to join us later," Homura informed the waitress. "Do you mind if we simply take a seat and wait a bit before ordering? As we're not certain how many we're ordering for yet."
"Normally it would be against our guidelines as we're supposed to seat paying customers only." The young woman replied. "Buuuut…" Their eyes scanned around the newly-furnished dining establishment. In one booth sat an elderly couple enjoying the contents of a hot pot simmering between them. On the opposite end a pair of disappointed-looking foreigners were checking their phones while munching on some chicken and rice topped with egg yolks plus a roast beef sandwich with a side of dumplings. "What the hay? Grand Opening's been slow."
"Thanks," Sayaka bowed in gratitude. "May we take a booth with a window?"
"Over there." a finger point sent them to their preferred seats.
"How's your tush?" Homura asked while Sayaka gingerly slid into her side of the booth.
"Still sore from landing on it," Sayaka answered. Homura had mistimed her leap-and-catch over the miniature golf course's wall, and though she was able to bring Sayaka into her arms, they couldn't quite pull the stunt off as intended. Being a magical girl, Homura was no worse for the wear, but Sayaka suffered the indignity of her tailbone smacking into the pavement. "But I'll live." She reassured Homura. "You think the four of them made it out alright?"
"Kyoko is particularly adept at evading authority figures," Homura tossed her fingers through her hair. "Which that boy will no doubt view as the coolest quality a girl like that could have."
"Heh," Sayaka wanly smirked. "Madoka, on the other hand… Is a short-stride runner who's hampered by being practically glued to a boy who barely just learned how to walk again." She let out a worried sigh. "It's our fault for enabling Kyoko's mischievousness like that."
"Perhaps Kamijo will do the chivalrous thing and take the blame for their infraction," Homura suggested, whipping out his phone, which she had been using as a prop in her attempt to entertain the dating duos.
"Why're you messing with his phone?" Sayaka inquired.
"I want to see if there are any recent missed messages." Homura responded. "I presume, if they were caught, then the police would contact his parents who would, in turn, call and give him an earful over the phone." She couldn't stand this idleness and uncertainty. She needed to seek some answers in any way available.
"Gee, you might be taking a logical leap or three." But Sayaka could understand the girl's consternation. "Hey, how'd you know his-"
"It's Madoka's birthday." Homura wasted no time poking around.
"Oh." From her side of the table she could see his screen's wallpaper, which was a picture of the young couple sharing a parfait on New Year's Day. "Always thought he'd make it my birthday some day." She slid back and folded her arms.
"No recent calls or texts," Homura shared in a murmuring hush. "In fact, aside from some pre-arranged meetups with Kyoko's date, plus a few brief exchanges with the other boys, as well scheduled meetings with his physicians and musical tutors… All his social activity appears to revolve around Madoka. Strange how little presence his parents seem to have in his life."
"They're busy all the time. It's really not that weird," Sayaka divulged. "His dad's the main conductor for the Mitakihara Philharmonic Orchestra," she detailed. "That's how Kyosuke first got into classical music, and his mom's got this cushy gig as a cabinet secretary in the prefectural government. Plus his grandpa co-founded this big shipping business, so they're never hurting for cash."
"So they're upper-cruft and well-respected," Homura summed. "I think I remember hearing you share those details from earlier timelines. But I guess I never cared about the guy enough to retain it long." She scrolled back through his saved pictures. Almost all were photos of him and Madoka. A normal day, him and Madoka, grabbing lunch in the school cafeteria. Him and Madoka, arm-in-arm going for a walk in the park. Him and Madoka, feeding the birds. Him and Madoka, catching a sunset. Going a bit further back she happened across an image of him at the local ice rink, capturing a spur-of-the-moment image of Madoka twirling around on a pair of skates.
"Woah, I didn't know Madoka ice skated!" Sayaka blinked a dozen times in rapid succession. "Did you?"
"I did not," Homura zoomed in on Madoka's face. Amazed at how high the resolution of modern smartphone cameras, it captured in finer detail her contented visage looking upward past those arms bowed into a heart shape at her fingertips and up to the heavens above. It was beautiful, iconic even, in Homura's judgment. And right there on her face was the expression that brought it all together, her hopeful smile. It was the same exquisite unforgettable expression she showed Homura on her very first day in that very first timeline. It was the smile she wished relive and fought through so many timelines to save and protect. So why did it pain the pit of her gut to look at it? Was it longing to be the one who was there to snap the photograph, a childish envy she had best keep bottled inside if she were ever to accept the relative peace of this world? Or was there something deeper growling from within her very soul?
"I hear that!" Sayaka disrupted her distracted thoughts. "Sheesh, even those cheap buffet drummies smell like the yummiest thing on earth when you've got a killer meat craving!"
"We shouldn't have to wait much longer," Homura had to acknowledge the roar of her hungry tummy. "Ten minutes, then perhaps we'll both start by trying out their Kung Pao Chicken?" She turned his phone over and slid the thing aside.
"Sounds awesome to me," Sayaka concurred. She at first resisted the urge to grab the device, but it took less than four seconds for the boredom and curiosity to get the better of her. She reached for the phone, flipped it back over and started scrolling through more pictures. "Can I ask you something?" She broke the momentary bout of silence. "About your past. Our past, I mean. If it's not too difficult for you to think about?"
"What is it?" Homura had her chin resting in one hand on the table, cupping her ear with the other.
"Do you remember me ever making a wish for anything or any reason other than Kyosuke?" She happened upon a picture of a violin. It was his brand new instrument, imported from Italy and gifted to him by the Shizuki household not long after his discharge from the hospital.
"Not that I can recall." Homura disclosed. "It was one of the only consistently predictable things across the loops. That you would trade your life for Kamijo's happiness."
"Pfffffffffft!" Sayaka blew a subdued raspberry at the phone's image. "He gets these expensive gifts, designer clothes, lavish flower bouquets, and homecoming banquets fit for a prince. Was it any wonder I thought the only way I could compete was by selling my soul?"
"You're being too hard on yourself," Homura offered a few pat words of consolation. "You knew him for longer than even Madoka, yes? When put in that perspective, I can see how you'd be willing to give up everything for your very first friend." She followed it with words more thoughtful, considerate and from the heart.
"I suppose you're right." Sayaka glumly closed out of his picture gallery, and opened his music library. It was chock full of classical tunes, as expected. "Say, you ever listened to 'Eine Kleine Nachtmusik' by Mozart?" Her mood perked at the thought of something that may put their minds off their woes.
"Moe who?"
"Zart."
"Moe's art?"
"No. Here," Sayaka took out a small pair of wired earbuds from her leather coat pocket. She inserted it into the headphone jack of Kyosuke's phone, offered her the left piece and played a sample. "Take a listen."
"This?" Homura recognized the main melody. "I've heard it before. It's one of those songs that get played all the time in public squares, correct?"
"Yeah, it gets around a lot." Sayaka leaned a little closer. "It's one of those songs everybody's heard but few take a moment to actually listen to." She gave the volume a little bump. "Y'see, it sounds like the kind of thing that needs a full-sized orchestra to be played correctly, but it's really only performed by six instruments, and all of them are strings.."
"Is that right?" Homura pressed the earpiece a little tighter into her ear canal.
"Yeah." Sayaka nodded. "It was sort of supposed to be this disposable pop ditty back in the day. He made it to score some quick cash while he was composing an opera for the royal bourgeoisie. But its persistence and ubiquity into modern times demonstrates that even melodies made for the most commercial purpose can evolve into these eternally uplifting, evergreen songs that appeal to the aspirational sides of everybody, everywhere, from all walks of life."
"Wow, that was…" Homura's head fell to a tilt. "Kinda deep? Did you read those words in a book or magazine somewhere?" She had a hard time believing such nuance could come from Sayaka Miki of all people.
"Eh? You think I'm not capable of forming complex opinions of my own?" Sayaka grimaced and pouted her lips in offense. She tugged the earpiece straight out of Homura's lobe.
"Apologies," Homura begged her pardon. "It's just that you said it with such a straight-faced confidence that it sounded memorized to me." She picked up the little earbud and coyly rolled it between her thumb and forefinger. "Like, you had to learn it for a class report of some kind."
"Ah," Sayaka loosened her posture. "Actually… It came from my piano teacher." She admitted. "Part of it anyway. The background facts part. But the stuff about its lasting impact was all mine!"
"You had a piano teacher?" Homura put it back in. "Do you still play it?"
"Naw. Not anymore," Sayaka revealed, eyes drifting wistfully towards the hanging light above their table. "Not in like, four or five years now." The song had played through to the third go-round of its main melody set at a slightly lower key. Even over the combined chatter of the other patrons and the comparatively slow, subdued traditional Chinese music on the ceiling speaker overhead, Homura could hear its classical strings. "For a while I thought I could make myself a brilliant musician like Kyosuke." She put her hand up to the light, casting an eclipsing shadow over her face. "But my grubby meat sausages couldn't put what my head imagined into something beautiful. I got frustrated and stuck, then as it got worse over time my self-doubts were saying over and over that no matter how much I learned, how much I practiced or how hard I tried, the best I could ever hope to be was the Salieri to Kyosuke's Mozart. So I quit. Cold turkey."
"Gee, how unfortunate," Homura also put her eyes to Sayaka's outstretched paw. By the way Sayaka described her hands, it sounded like she deemed them to be too big, clumsy and unwieldy. But silently Homura disagreed. They were pretty hands, if the term could apply to such an unassuming appendage. The palm was smaller than Homura's, while her fingers were longer, feminine without looking too dainty or frail. Her nails appeared to be both moisturized and well-manicured, a surprise, and it contrasted with Homura's own short-trimmed nails and cuticle tips with skin tinged red by frequent cuts, scrapes and hangnails. "I've since met some magical girls who possess musical instruments as their primary weapons." She had to not wince reflexively at the sight of the purple diamond shape embedded underneath her left ring fingernail, her magical birthmark that was stamped more like a permanent bruise. "Learning that makes me imagine how you might have dressed and fought as one had the immediate urgency of Kamijo's situation not exerted its usual effect on you."
"Heh. You mean all else being equal, Kyubey somehow still finds me, sets the hook and reels me in?" Sayaka indulged Homura's hypothetical with a half-smile. "You ever watched those special effects shows where the good guys dress up in multicolored suits and fight alien monsters with toylike weapons and huge explosions and a giant robot that always saves the day while still totally wrecking a bunch of cardboard skyscrapers?" Homura nodded a little. "Probably something like that. A superhero in a shiny, skin tight suit with gloves, stylish boots, and a utility belt. Though like, maybe I'd ditch the face-covering helmet and go for a hood and a set of goggles instead."
"What? No cape?" Homura returned an intrigued half-smirk and a raised brow.
"I dunno. Capes are cool in theory but," Sayaka paused. "They're a little more trouble than they're worth, don'cha think?" As the song on the playlist faded out, she scrolled around in search of the next one. "Like, what if I were riding up an escalator in costume and the thing gets snagged? Or I had to go up against a witch that could spin up a big, sucking tornado vortex?" She happened upon another tune that caught her eye. "I'd be in for an embarrassing mishap at best, strangulation at worst!"
"Tch!" Homura's half-smile beamed into a full display of her upper teeth. "It's funny, hearing you be this self-effacing and reflective. I'm not used to it." She teased her hair behind her earpiece in a way that, coupled with that big, beaming grin, sent an electric tingle from the top of Sayaka's head all the way down to her toes. It was a heart-fluttering sensation she hadn't experienced since the first and only time Kyosuke treated her to a private recital as practice for an upcoming show. "Hm? Isn't this Beethoven?"
"Oops!" Sayaka looked down and realized her finger had slipped and clicked on the wrong piece. "I meant to play you a little bit of Bach." The mix-up had sent an extra surge of blood to the capillaries in her cheeks, turning them a beet shade of red. "Stupid-stupid tiny touch screens too small for my clutzy sausage fingers!" She rambled as a face-saving excuse, setting the phone on the table.
"It's okay. I can appreciate Beethoven." Homura tried to spare her the discomfort, even though she'd noticed those blushing cheeks and was saying it only to better resist the urge to reach out and give one a flirtatious pinch. "This is supposed to be his Fifth Symphony, correct?"
"Yeah," Sayaka looked down at the information on the screen. "It's a hard rock, electric guitar cover."
"By whom?" Homura leaned in. Closer than she was intending to go.
"Some highbrow indie, Euro-punk rock dudes…" Sayaka read. "Called 'The Dreamboys'." She could smell the light air of her friend's breath wafting through her hair and down her forehead. "Kyosuke's worldly like that." It carried with it that alluring scent of Missus Kaname's perfume, and perhaps even a hint of whatever that stuff was giving her lips that unique sheen. "Uhhhmmm," Sayaka could sense herself losing her whole train of thought, as a warm hand gently landed atop hers.
"Mmmmm," Homura's iris-enlarged gaze gradually met hers. On instinct her own mouth puckered up, as if in anticipation, the primal lust of an impending consummation with that set drifting ever closer. Like being aboard a hot air balloon landing, contact would be quick and jarring but she imagined the rush would linger long after the fact. "Mmuuuaaaa-"
"Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! Welcome to Banbanzaiiiiiiii!" The voice of their hostess belted at the next guests through the door. "Where we serve the mmmightiest meals at the mmmmightiest low prices!" She took a little liberty with their standard greeting.
"Ugggggggggghhhhhh! All that runnin' and duckin' I am sstarrrvin' like there's no tomorrow! The next voice announced. This sent the pair tumbling awkwardly back into their respective seats. "Oh, hey! You guys made it outta there!" Kyoko boisterously shuffled over and greeted. They extricated their joined hands and shared earwear post-haste before she saw anything.
"Yeah." Both of them slumped down and rolled their eyes behind closed lids.
"So what's the evening special?" Her date Tokoi was right there in tow.
"To start we have our world-renowned Kung Pao Chicken, plus there's Wonton Soup with a side of fried dumplings. Or you can try our sweet-and-sour pork that comes with your choice of dimsum."
"Excuse me but," Kyoko's finger pointed at the vast food selection over by the far side wall. "Is that a buffet?"
"Yes." Their server guided everyone's attention to it. "For an additional eleven hundred Yen you can enjoy any three selections of buffet items or just skip straight to the buffet for a mere twenty-three hundred Yen total."
"Buffet." Kyoko wasted time on no other consideration. "Say nuthin' else! We're doin' the buffet!" She ordered in an impatient, almost demanding tone.
"I'll do the buffet, too." Homura waved the waitress back with a hand gesture. "What are you having?"
"I'll do the western fried Chicken, wings and legs," Sayaka requested. "An instead of a dessert, can I get a veggie salad with no dressing?"
"No problem!" Their waitress saluted on her way past.
"No dressing?" Tokoi took his place in the booth adjacent. "What, do you like chewin' raw grass or something?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but I've got a figure to keep!" Sayaka snapped at him.
"Have you two heard anything from either Madoka or Kamijo in the time since our sudden separation?" Homura inquired.
"Nope, we haven't heard anything after amscraying," Tokoi shook his head. "We were sorta hoping they'd meet up with us here."
"You've got her Romeo's phone on ya'!" Kyoko returned with a plate loaded with fried chicken wings, pulled pork, bacon-wrapped crab, shrimp poppers, french fries and onion rings. "Why donchya' give her a text, if it's botherin' ya' so much?" And that was for starters. She placed her plate on the table, grabbed another and quick-toed her way over towards the salad bar.
"Might be better to use your own phones, actually," Tokoi suggested, lurching over his booth seat and into theirs. "After all, just havin' his phone links you to the scene of the crime." He hush-hush whispered behind the back of his palm.
"I like the way ya' think," Kyoko mumbled on her way back carrying a plate of ramen noodles in one hand, tomato soup in the other, plus a fun-sized bag of pork rinds dangling beneath her snaggletooth.
"Where… Are… You…?" Sayaka beat Homura to the punch in tapping out the text message on her phone. "Are… You… Okay…?"
"Holy cow, that's a lot of food!" Tokoi gawked at his date's food choices. "Where does it all go when you're finished?" The joke came as an excuse to lavish his boyish gaze on her slender, feminine figure.
"Tch! Out my ah- Er, bum!" Kyoko playfully mooned him under her dress. "Heh-Heh!" Then she slid into her spot in the booth opposite him. "Want some?" She reciprocated his flirtation attempt by shoving a toothpick mounted piece of bacon on crab at his mouth.
"I suppose I should go make my meal choices at the buffet," Homura excused herself. "Do you want me to bring you anything while you wait for your order?" She offered her boothmate.
"Naw, that's okay," Sayaka answered in defiance of the sound coming from her tummy. "Ehh… Maybe a little slice of cake."
"What in the world are you wearing?" Kyoko had gotten a look at the home screen of Tokoi's phone. "Is that a Karate uniform of some type?" She decoupled her chopsticks and dug in on her meal, noodles first.
"Oh, this? Her date made a hesitant glance towards his phone. "It's a cosplay of mine, is all." He was a little reluctant to talk about his hobby on the first date. "My first."
"Uhhh-huuuhhnnn," Kyoko spoke through her slurps, in an endearing if unladylike way. "Cosplay. So what's the deal with that shi- stuff?" She stopped herself from using vulgarity while in earshot of an old couple. Although her mock mooning had already earned her a dismayed glance.
"Here you go," Homura slid Sayaka some cake. "It would appear by what it says on that plaque over there that this place derives its name and theme from a similar venue in Kamihama." She sat down just as the waitress was preparing to bring out Sayaka's order.
"So my Mom helped me sew the sash along the front there," Tokoi explained the details in the photograph. "And we used my bro's old school uniform as the base."
"Soooooo," Kyoko wolfed down a stack of fries. "You make this stuff just for fun, oooooor…"
"Did you ever take a little extra time to explore that town between your little club meetings?" Sayaka pressed, in a low, subdued voice. "Thanks!" She smiled and nodded upon the delivery of her order. "What's its deal? Kyoko's been telling me there's like, a ton of you guys in that area."
"That's a good question," Homura sipped her lite lemonade drink before dunking a shrimp popper into some Thai sauce. "I wish I had a sufficient answer. But it eludes me." She watched Sayaka use a chopstick to impale some tomato and carrot slices with one hand while stabbing and wadding some lettuce onto a fork with the other then shoving both into maw. "I did once take a little detour to their local library for a bit of basic intelligence gathering." She had to pause and stifle a derisive chuckle at the sight of Sayaka engaging in such an intercultural use of dining tools. "It's a lot like Mitakihara, in that they were both once quiet, working class villages that boomed in size and wealth immediately after the last Great War when refugees from firebombed cities like Tokyo and Toyama came and transformed them into cosmopolitan metropolises." Her amusement was supplanted by a bout of embarrassment upon realizing she'd neglected to grab a spoon, resorting to slurping some Chinese chicken soup with a spork. "They're comparable in size, population density, demographics and other statistical minutiae. But for whatever reason, that city is home to a far greater number of magical girls. I don't think that even those so-called leaders of theirs are truly aware of just how many there are."
"Yeah, most of it is just for fun," Tokoi replied in the booth seat behind them. "Others do it as a way to show off their artistic side, and then there's people who do it to find a sense of community through the expression of their love for characters in manga, anime and movies." His eyes drifted down to the overstuffed plates on the table. "Actually, I guess technically my first cosplay was when I cut and pasted together a bunch of shoeboxes back when I was seven." He always had trouble figuring out when and where the appropriate time was to share this next tidbit about himself. "You see, my parents separated, so my mom was pretty in the dumps, so I tried cheerin' her up by dressing as a superhero she and I would watch on TV together." But the tale was so critical to who he is, that he couldn't just leave it out. Present circumstances be darned. "She's been helping me make and sew costumes ever since."
"So ya' do it to bond with yer mom, huh?" The revelation didn't seem to dampen Kyoko's mood. "That's nice." Nor her appetite, as she chowed down on some pulled pork. "Ya' still see yer dad?"
"Sounds like it's something you should be talking to Kyubey about," Sayaka suggested in a low-key tone. "Next time." She sipped some soda through a straw then used her chopsticks to pick up a chicken leg and take a nibble.
"I'm sure he'd say something vague and unenlightening about meeting energy quotas and the Kamihamans fitting some ambiguous specialty." Homura sighed, using the forked bit on her spork to chase down a couple loose noodles. "Towards the end I started to think and strategize the way he would've. In effect trying to beat him at his own game. But I've spent the better part of the last nine months trying to cleanse that kind of thought process from my head."
"From time to time," Tokoi recalled. "But he's such a workaholic. If my hobbies don't involve making money or acquiring useful skills, he questions the point of it." He reached for and took one of Kyoko's shrimp rolls. "Like he never incorporated the word 'creativity' into his vocabulary.
"Bummer." Kyoko dejectedly breathed. Out next came a burp. "Still… He's around. Long as that's true, you can make peace." Followed by a hiccup.
"Why are you doing that?" Homura watched Sayaka pick up another chicken wing with chopsticks.
"It's greasy food," Sayaka bit and chewed. "I don't wanna get it all over my hands." She added upon swallowing.
"So? I've watched you dine on junk food with your bare hands before," Homura commented with an upturned brow. "Just use some napkins."
"What about your folks?" Tokoi flipped the question session around. "You been keepin' in touch with 'em back in your hometown… Where was it?" He paused for a brief moment. "Kazamino?"
"Aaaaack!" His question caused Kyoko to almost choke on an onion ring.
"Yeeeeah, but that was when it was between the bunch of us as friends and in private," Sayaka excused. "When there's other people around, I try to act a little more," She hesitated, trying to find the correct word. "What would they call it? Fancy? Formal? Ladylike? I dunno."
"But you just used a combination of a fork and a chopstick to dig into your salad," Homura observed. "A neat innovation, but it's about as far from proper etiquette as dining gets."
"Sorry to pry," Tokoi apologized, sliding a glass of water Kyoko's way. "I didn't mean to upset you." He slouched down in his seat.
"It's fine," Kyoko coughed. "It's fine!" She repeated more intelligibly. "You were jus' makin' normal chit-chat. I don't blame ya'." She glugged the water and rubbed her throat with two fingers. "No. I effed up big time and now it's beyond my power to fix." She slumped down in much the same ashamed way as he.
"Those fellows over there are tourists who probably don't understand much of our language or customs," Homura pointed out. "And by all appearances that old couple looks as if they're hard of hearing and preoccupied with their hot pot dinner." She stopped at the sound of the coughing fit the next booth over and spared a moment to lean to the right and check on Kyoko. "And those two are certainly not qualified judges of character."
"It's not them that's got me so self-conscious, alright?" This time Sayaka had her fork in her fingers and was utilizing it as her second chopstick. "It's something about you. And the way you look, alright?"
"Me?" Homura put her hand to her chest in a surprised manner.
"The way your face shines with Missus Kaname's make-up." Sayaka said. "It makes me wanna clean up my act a little too, y'know?" She picked up a shred of lettuce with her fingers and nibbled at a corner like a rabbit. "Take smaller bites. Chew with my mouth closed. Talk more politely. Put on a more serious air, basically."
"Lemme ask you somethin'," Kyoko leaned in and whispered, though her voice was a little hoarse thanks to remnant pieces of the onion ring. "Purely hypothetical, a sorta 'gettin' to know you'-type question." She took a large sip from a complimentary glass of water the waitress had dropped off during her coughing fit. "If you could say… Swipe a time machine, and as the person you are today, travel back to the worst moment of your life and try to fix it, wouldya?"
"Uhhhhhhhh," Tokoi's eyelids blinked rapidly in his dumbfoundedness. "Like, if my life was suddenly some high-concept sci-fi adventure anime?" He had a glib answer on hand for such a left field question, but the strangely earnest, solemn way Kyoko proposed it, seemed to demand he put a serious level of thought to the question. "Lemme think."
"So you are deliberately altering the way you behave, based on the way I look?" Homura's head tilted. She blinked once. It tilted another few degrees. Then she blinked twice more. The tilt spread to the rest of her upper body as she blinked three additional times. "But Kyoko's also wearing make-up. Plus it's on her face courtesy of Madoka. Does seeing her look that way not exert any similar effect on you?"
"Kyoko's different," Sayaka tried explaining. "She's pretty and all, but in a huggable way." She cut off some loose chunks of chicken attempting to buy some time to think about what to say next by forking and ingesting it. "You're pretty, in a way that hits different." Next she stirred around the ice in her beverage and took a drink.
"Geez, I don't know," Tokoi scratched the back of his head. "Do-overs like that always sound great on paper, but going by all the stories I've seen from shows, books and games, you shouldn't just try and change something so important from your past unless you've got the tools and know-how to take every step carefully and do it exactly the right way, hehe." he tacked on a little chuckle as a way to relieve his discomfort. "I don't know about you, but in my case my folks were just evolving into two people too different to stick together. And I'm not sure if there's anything present me could say or do that would help them make it back then, because just having the best intentions ain't good enough unless you understand the real reason why you're trying." He snuck a few shrimp poppers off Kyoko's plate and munched on them. "And you know, success doesn't guarantee instant happiness, you've also gotta have the will and the guts to follow through and ride out whatever ripple effects your changes create afterwards. Hehehe." He grabbed the same glass of water Kyoko had just cleared her throat with, and took a gulp and a gurgle. "Di- Did that answer anything for you or was I just being a babbling geek or something?" He detected a little of her apple-flavored lip gloss in the aftertaste.
"Naaww, I get the gist of it," Kyoko pouted her cheeks and massaged her throat. "Thanks for not bee-essin' it." She also had to fan herself with her other hand, as something in her blood was suddenly making her all hot and bothered.
"Different how?" Homura pressed, her lips trembling, her body leaning in and hunching ever closer to the girl on the opposite end of the table.
"Different liiiiiiiiiike…" Sayaka closed her eyes, turned her head and was ready to let whatever was about to happen next, happen. "Thi- Waaaaah!" She abruptly sensed the trembling buzz of the cell phone going off in her pocket.
"Madoka!" Homura exclaimed as soon as she could read the screen Sayaka had whipped it onto the table.
"She's in the back of a cop car!" Sayaka gasped. "With Kyosuke! And it's taking her home!" Both their hearts skipped a beat as the three little dots on the screen bounced in anticipation of the incoming details.
"She and Kamijo couldn't flee from the golf course fast enough," Homura read. "So she voluntarily turned herself in." Her heart sank upon seeing the update. More dots signaled that she had even more news to share.
"Eh?" Sayaka reacted to what came up next. "She's fine. Turns out the cop wasn't even sent to investigate us?"
"Hnnnnnggh!" Both girls palmed their faces after reading that. "The officer was there to investigate a noise complaint just outside the facility gates." Homura continued.
"There was a darn cat with its head stuck in a birdhouse mounted up a tree," Sayaka recapped the next part..
"Wasn't just any cat," Homura shared. "It's Amy. The stray to which Madoka feeds and gives affection whenever it visits her house." She let out a huge sigh of relief. "That little beast really likes to wander the city."
"She convinced the cop she was out with her boyfriend looking for the cat, and that they went inside the place so that they could climb the tree and free the thing." Sayaka announced with a shared sense of ease. "She's sorry she made us worry and sorry she and him can't finish out the date with us here. But she's okay, Kyosuke's okay, and the cat will be fine too." A serene smile bloomed across her face. "Happy ending. She'll see us first thing tomorrow." She put her phone away and let her back go limp in her booth seat. "I think that might be the most 'Madoka' story I've ever heard in my life! Wheeeew!"
"I know what you mean," Homura allowed herself to smile at this fortuitous turn. "But the Madoka I knew, would never so brazenly deceive an officer of the law. I would suppose that's Kyoko's bad influence, starting to rub off on her."
"Did you just make a joke at Madoka?" Sayaka prodded. "Bwaaaahahahaaa! That's pretty good. But your delivery's still a little on the awkward side."
"I'll work on it," Homura stifled a giggle. "In time." It felt a little overindulgent to be laughing at her own joke. Not to mention, a little mean to laugh at Madoka while she wasn't there.
'Hey!' Homura's moment of levity was disrupted by a very pointed telepathic message coming from Kyoko. 'You been gettin' the same funky vibes as I'm gettin' right now?'
'I'm not sure what you mean by that.' But no sooner than Homura responded she could sense a certain stomach-piercing vibe which killed her mood. It was an autonomic reaction to a familiar type of charged magic drawing in proximity. Emotionally driven, it was the signature of another magical girl moving with purpose and she was drawing near, fast. 'Oh.' "Shit!"
"Shit?" Sayaka caught her stray aloud exclamation.
'Feels like Blueblood and her pal are on the warpath! Kyoko added. On cue, Homura also sensed their second trespasser. More surprising, and worrying, is that the aura closing in beside Konoha Shizumi belonged to Nanaka Tokiwa. That an otherwise antagonistic pair would be roaming the streets of Mitakihara at this hour, could only mean they were here to stir some trouble.
"Excuse me," Homura politely but urgently waved down their waitress. "Could we get some carry-out bags?"
"Something wrong?" Sayaka sensed something amiss.
'Do we tussle or run?' In an uncharacteristic turn, Kyoko asked for Homura's advice first. "We prioritize the safety of everyone else here first," Homura whispered over the booth. "Then I'll investigate whatever they're trying to instigate." She quickly scooped and dumped their food into the bags.
"Who died and made you Mami?" Kyoko argued.
"Kyoko please," Homura urged. "It's your date night. Don't end it in a needless fight. Leave!"
"Ffffffffiiiiiinnnne!" Kyoko relented loudly, to her boy's confusion. "Sorry!" She stood up and tugged her dress. "Nature's callin' me!"
"Hey, bud!" On their way out, one of the tourists turned his friend's attention on his phone. "Check it out. I snapped a pic of those two chicks totally about to start makin' out!"
"Tch!" His friend nudged it away. "Dude, they were schoolgirls! Have a little respect for privacy!" They were passed by two similarly-aged girls in fedoras and trench coats.
"To think they would so grossly insult the Yui family by co-opting the name of their restaurant." The shorter girl noted.
"Your source had damn well better be correct about this place!" Her companion warned. "She's absolutely certain this establishment hides a criminal stronghold underneath?"
"One of the conditions she spelled out before becoming my deputy was that I do not question her intelligence gathering connections or information methods." She pulled out a ceremonial white and red Japanese Kitsune mask and handed it to her comrade. "Alright, once we're inside, it is likely we will first encounter some surveillance systems. Wear this to obfuscate your face. Should the need to converse verbally arise, your codename is 'Fox'." Over her own face, she put on an Okami mask. "And mine shall be 'Wolf'.
"Huh?" The elderly husband cupped his ear to the whistling alarm sound blaring overhead.
"Alright, everyone!" Their host waitress tried to shout over the sound. "Our fire alarm's been tripped. If you could, please proceed calmly out the front door."
"Welp. My job here's done," Kyoko winked and pointed at Homura in passing in the backroom hallway leading to the bathrooms. "Don't you start no stupid shit tonight either, comprende?"
"Will you please explain to me what hell is going on?" Sayaka pushed through the door and witnessed Homura's magical persona emerge from a purple flash behind one of the toilet stalls. "Is- Is there a Grief Seed hatching someplace?"
"Not exactly," Homura gave a test spin to her buckler. "Damn!" Time continued as normal. "I'm sorry." She apologized. "But you're going to have to get as far from me as you can for a little bit." She unlatched the stall's lock, swung it inward and the two were standing face-to-face.
"What?" Sayaka's head turned to a flummoxed angle. "Why?"
"Please, will you just do as I ask?" Without thinking or asking she placed a quick pecking kiss atop the young lady's forehead.
"Sorry, Lil Missy. This section's off limits to- Aaauugh!" The hard thud of the cook's head against the drywall reverberated into the bathroom.
"Y- You're not about to pick a fight with somebody, are you?" Sayaka caught Homura's arm as she broke for the exit.
"I don't know." Homura's honest answer didn't compel Sayaka to let go, rather she pulled tighter. Homura's immediate and primary impulse was to give this fool a good, hard slapping. Remind her that, as a mere human being there was nothing she could do besides get in the way. But in that singular moment, through a passive exchange of troubled expressions, Homura saw that this girl's motive was not to tag along and play dumb action girl as Sayakas past would have tried. No, this was one genuine friend looking for reassurance from the other. "Don't worry." In a dramatic motion Homura threw her arm around Sayaka's back, puckered her lips and forced Sayaka's mouth open.
"Mmmmmmmpph!" Sayaka reacted at first with pure shock, then a brief flashback to her last girl kiss, before finally submitting herself to Homura's will. "Mmmmmuuuuuaaah!" Her grip on Homura's arm slipped. Her jaw finally clicked open and hung slack. It took the alluring aftertaste of Junko's cosmetics on her lips to ratchet it back together.
"If you get yourself to safety then I promise I'll come back." Homura released her, trotted out the door and towards the commotion. "I'll be back!"
What was she going to do? What was she going to do? What was she going to do? Junko Kaname did not take this job expecting to be a party to a young girl's capture, confinement and cruciation. And now her sane, sound mind was telling her, nay insisting, she should quit right here on the spot, storm out and wash her hands of this whole godforsaken organization, the consequences be damned.
Except no. The fallout from that could not be ignored. She agreed to commit, she signed contracts, went through training and accepted this mantle of responsibility. They would never let her so easily step out that door. It was more likely that she too would be detained, disciplined and defrocked, such was the nature of being an adult. There was no such thing as simply walking away. The stakes were too high.
But her damn conscience, that troublesome bleeding heart residing in the back of her brain, wasn't going to abide by this sight of these clinical, detached lot of scientists having their way with this frightened little soul. It was telling her it was within her power to fix this farcical dilemma, and do the right thing.
"Fascinating!" One scientist observing the egg on the table turned to his counterpart. "What do you make of that black particulate matter coalescing around the base?"
"I think a more fitting term would be 'expanding'. And fast." The other scientist remarked. "And if that is so, what do you hypothesize will happen should the blackened stuff overtake that lighter material up top, and how long do you calculate it will take?"
"Madoka, it is important to be honest with the people you trust and who trust you back, but at the same time you've got to understand they won't all deal with your candor the same way." She recalled herself saying one late night at the kitchen table. "Good intentions alone aren't enough to end in good outcomes, the best you can do is try to play each case by ear and predict how those people are gonna respond." She was so drunk off her horse that night. "And if you think it's a situation where telling the truth is gonna cause more trouble than it's worth, you should choose your words more carefully, and tweak the truth in just such a way that they'll react better." Yikes. Basically told the kid to lie. Spewing such nuanced life lessons to her teen and expecting the girl to interpret it the way Junko's alcohol-intoxicated logic intended? Such piss-poor parenting. She should be the one in cuffs.
"Yes, General. That's correct." Miss Yamano was on the phone with a superior. "UNIT Euro is going to take ownership of the item." She repeated. "What of the subject?" She listened intently to the answer. "Really? Blacksite Seven… All the way down there? Is that necessary?" Standing next to her was Doctor Taylor trying to listen in.
"CERN's Quantum Research Institute is the department most keen on getting their hands on our trinket there." He presumed. "Whooooboy."
"Not a fan of theirs, I take it?" Miss Yamano set the phone on a nearby fax machine. The proper paperwork was churning its way through the line to the printer.
"Madoka, there are going to be situations where you won't be granted enough time to think things through fully." Another late night life lesson flashed into memory. "When that happens, and inaction is your worst option, doing something that might at first seem foolish could wind up working in your favor. So don't be afraid to try." What? That's stupid! And yet, here Junko was, wasting precious seconds dwelling upon her own offbeat, droopy-eyed wisdom. Maybe there was some merit to her ramblings? Maybe there was something useful?
"I've been loosely acquainted with a few of their senior theorists." Malcolm Taylor detailed. "Via their published papers and journals. I'll just say it's a little difficult to place much faith in a lot with whom nearly half are convinced the Universe is a simulation as if their equations were working towards some new age religious movement, while the others are motivated by the cushy six-figure sums they'll get once the 'Move fast and break things' people come calling." He took off his glasses and rubbed off a smudge with his undershirt. "Speaking strictly personal, of course. Not as UNIT liaison."
"Madoka, I can tell you that all the people I know who work at my company alongside me are good moral people who are just trying to make it through this life without causing too much hassle or fuss." She couldn't help but think of those late night chats, this girl's resemblance to her daughter was invoking them. "Then one of the defining moments of your grownup life will happen when you find yourself among just such a big group, and they're complicit in a decision you might not necessarily agree with."
"P- Puh- Puhhleeeeaaaase!" The bound and blindfolded little girl pleaded. "Someone, p- P- P -Please, help meeee!" She whimpered.
"You then gotta ask yourself if you prefer to be someone who keeps their head down, goes along to get along, defers to authority and minds her own dang business?" Junko had a particular memory of that session. It was not too long after that mysterious storm sent them all to stay for a stint at the emergency shelter. "I'm not denigrating those types when I describe them, there's nothing wrong with being that way. That's your father, that's ninety percent of humanity. They're the reason people are able to put up with one another at all." She was comparatively sober that night, in part because her co-workers were still busy cleaning up the aftermath, but more because for the first time in a few years Madoka had come home with a new friend for an impromptu sleepover. "Do you want to blend in like that, or want to be someone who rocks the boat, ruffles feathers, takes a stand and is damn proud of that, even if the outcome may ultimately not vindicate you in the end?"
"I'm not sure yet," Madoka replied. "But I think I'd rather be in that second group."
For the longest time Junko believed she belonged in that second group too. But as the sounds of the guards' jackboots echoed outside the door, and the security locks buzzed, she realized that this would be that one pivotal, defining moment in her life to prove it.
"My hand is on the table directly under you," Junko clandestinely whispered. "Bite it right now."
"Eh?" The blindfolded girl questioned.
"Just do it before they walk in," Junko commanded. "And trust me no matter what I say out loud."
"Incorrect passcode!" The automated voice squawked.
"No, no," One guard said to the other. "It's seven-two-six, one-eight-"
"Yeeeeeaah I got it I got it!" His annoyed comrade snorted. "Fuggin' passcodes!"
"Gaaaaaaahh!" Junko recoiled in pain. But she had to act a little bit. Either the girl was too scared to bite with force, or she still had some baby teeth left. "Ya' dumb little brat!" She smacked the girl upside the head hard enough to dislodge her blindfold. The first and hopefully last time she'll ever have to lay a hand on a child.
"Missus Kaname?" A warped voice came through the speaker just as the guards opened the door and stepped in. "Is everything alright?" Junko presumed the voice was Yamano's.
"Yeah," Junko replied. 'See me? Stare at me.' She lip-synched a silent follow-up message. 'Keep staring.' "She bit me, that's all!"
By then the taller guard had noticed the blindfold wasn't secure. "Hey!" He was a split second away from knocking her cold upside the head with a swing of his baton "You little bi-" When a discharged handgun round knocked it out of his gloved mitts.
"Missus Kaname?" The voice on the other side crackled. "What in the hell are you doing?"
"I don't know," Junko's grip on her Sig Sauer was shaking. "I- I don't seem to have control of my arm at the moment." Ears ringing, adrenaline pumping, that was the luckiest shot she'd ever fired. "Uh- Ohhhhh!" Maybe all that practice had finally paid off. Also helped that it was at darn near point-blank range. "Crap!" The gun slowly swung around to her own temple. "No way!" She wasn't about to risk the lives of the guardsmen, so that logically meant there was only one potential hostage.
"G- G- Ge- Let me outta here!" More luckily, the girl seemed more or less in step with what Junko was attempting. "O- Or else sh- She bl- Bl- Bites it!"
"Oh," Doctor Taylor hiccuped a shocked gasp. "That's Alien Hand Syndrome. It must've infected her with a muscular pathogen of some kind through the bite!"
"Can witches do that?" Yamano asked amid a bunch of befuddled glances exchanged in the adjacent room.
"Can't.. Seem… To… Look away… From… Her gaze!" Junko spoke in as dramatic a cadence her meager performative skills allowed.
"'C- Cuz I've got her under my spell!" Again the little lady was astute to Junko's game. "S- So untie me and let me goooo- Heheheheheheeeheeeee!" She forced an unconvincing maniacal cackle between those scared, chattering teeth.
"We should listen to her, you guys!" Junko insisted. "It's taking everything I got to not squeeze this trigger!" The other guard promptly freed their captive from her chair restraints. Next she heard the door buzz and swing open behind her. A quick look back revealed the one granting their exit was the female guard she'd been conversing with before.
"What now?" Miss Yamano reacted to a little red indicator bulb blinking on the phone. It was an emergency light. "Yes?" She picked it up.
"We might be able to keep her mischief in check if we secure that egg," Doctor Taylor promptly took over command duty. Yamano acceded with a single nod. "You two, wherever they go, you take that thing and head in the opposite direction."
"Aw, geez!" Junko and the girl hastily shuffled their way out into the hallway. So thankful she was to be out of that interrogation room, the girl did not wait for her straightjacket to be undone. The pair broke towards the elevator, with her beaming Junko a most Madoka-esque hopeful young smile.
"There's a Lead-lined safe down on Level C-Nine," Doctor Taylor instructed the scientists. "Place it in there. The Lead may be able to block whatever radiative energy it's emitting."
"On second thought," Junko reconsidered. "They could cut the power and trap us inside. Best find the stairs."
"Okie-dokie!" The girl nodded in both gratitude and agreement. It looked to Junko like she was trying to muscle and flex her way out of her restraints.
"Spare your energy," Junko advised. "You're not getting out of that thing on your own." She was careful to keep the gun to her head and her finger near the trigger in case there were any security cameras concealed somewhere.
"I'm super strong- Nnnnnnngh!" The girl wriggled and tugged. "I can- Nnnnnnnnngh! Nnnnnnnnngh! Bust it on my own! Nnnnnnnngh!" They came across a red-painted door with a staircase visible through the window. "Really! Nnnnnnnngh! I can! Nnnnnnnnngh!"
"We may have another bad situation brewing topside," Miss Yamano informed the group back in that room. "That was the automated fire alarm calling. I can't get in touch with anybody up there to fill me in." She drew in a deep breath, and dialed the number that connected her to the loudspeakers on every level. "Security breach! Mobilize all security personnel and deploy them at once! This is not a drill! I repeat! This is not a drill!"