A/N: Bleach-only folks: I swear to God the way this Witch attacks and the method of defeat are canon.
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FÜNFZIG
TIMELINE X + N + 1
After an otherwise pleasant afternoon of cookies and homework followed by another round of Yoruichi reporting to Homura and Urahara, Homura readied to leave.
"Where you going?" Yoruichi asked lowly.
"Hunting," Homura answered. "You need to stay here so it does not look like you are leading me."
Yoruichi sat primly and asked, "Are you sure that's wise?" with a frown in her voice.
Homura waved one hand dismissively as she tapped papers together and shoved them in her shield for later. "I am quite familiar with all of the Witches that appear in this area. I have fought them countless times."
"Isn't that what you said about that Walpurgisnacht thing?"
Homura stilled. She slowly turned and looked at the cat. After a long shared stare, Homura warily said, "I will... keep that in mind."
The cat nodded firmly. "Now. Will you be crossing into Kyōko Sakura's territory?"
Shrugging, Homura said, "Possibly. But I can handle her."
Yoruichi lowered her chin and looked up with heavy-lidded eyes. "Don't you go and get cocky on me, Akemi."
Homura glanced back over her shoulder as she headed for the door. "I won't."
She transformed and took to the rooftops, first wandering west before detouring south and east, skirting then entering Shinchi. She had never ventured that far south before. Her scalp prickled and she felt watched; following her senses, she spotted a magical girl perched on the crossbeam of a radio tower. Though distant, Homura could still make out that she wore a puffy powder blue dress, matching boots, and a tall marching band hat. They were too far apart to make out her face, but what caught Homura's eye was the large pink drum major's mace the girl was twirling in lazily threatening arcs. Whenever the pompom on its end moved just so, Homura could see it was wickedly sharp. The girl briefly glowed pink as she flared her considerable power.
Message to get the hell out of my territory or die successfully conveyed.
Homura made a point of facing the girl directly, giving the briefest of stiff bows in apology, and veering north. She could not afford to make any new enemies. It was a good excuse to head more toward where Yoruichi had said the other girl had turned, anyway.
She finally detected a labyrinth when she was patrolling the Mitakihara-Kazamino border. It was a bit west of where Yoruichi had reported seeing the girl turn. Glad to not have to suspiciously find her way to the exact place her cat had been, Homura descended from the tall buildings to the roof of a squat strip mall. Her Soul Gem led her to the cap over a laundromat ventilation shaft that smelled of dryer sheets. She brandished her Soul Gem and instantly recognized the sigil that appeared— a gold medallion with spider legs added to the knot of a stylized sailor uniform collar. It was the labyrinth of the Witch another Sayaka had sometimes jokingly called the Class Representative Witch. Fairly weak, as Witches went. Moving around inside was a pain without Tomoe's ribbons, though. She sighed and strode into the labyrinth.
Blinking in the instant shift from night to bright daylight, Homura assessed the environment. As expected, she had appeared at the confluence of a number of thick tightropes that stretched around the blue sky at crazy angles, each serving as a clothesline for a variety of sailor uniform tops at pennant-like intervals. Homura balanced better and mapped the paths. She had never trusted the fluffy white clouds some of the lines disappeared into and the telephone poles below struck her as so easily navigated as to probably be a trap, so she would be avoiding them again. Finally, she spotted the dark shape of the Witch far up and to her left.
Before she set out, Homura decided to experiment. Though it took a good deal of concentration, she managed to conjure up a miniature version of her barrier to hold around her Soul Gem. Her self-assigned test would be to maintain it through the entire fight as practice for more dangerous fights. She breathed deeply and started running along the tightrope.
With her first step from her starting point, school desks and chairs started tumbling out of the sky. Instead of letting them slow her progress, Homura deftly evaded them by leaping from clothesline to clothesline. The first Familiars appeared when she was halfway to the Witch, as usual, but Homura had to force herself not to hesitate.
The Familiars were different.
Usually, the first salvo would be the bottom halves of girls in matching school uniform skirts with ice skates attached to their loafers, all gliding along the clotheslines and attacking with bladed kicks and spins. Mostly an annoyance, but the skates were still sharp. This time, each Familiar had one skate and one bare foot and their knees were bloodied. They skated with one leg while the other leg was extended behind them for balance.
Not particularly interested in giving them a chance to attack, Homura frowned and pulled a pump-action shotgun out of her shield. She kept running, dodging and jumping from tightrope to tightrope as often as possible, freezing time momentarily as needed, blowing a Familiar off the line in front of her when it was more convenient, mechanically dropping spent guns and pulling pre-loaded ones out of her shield as she ran— a tactic out of Tomoe's playbook, without Tomoe's magic guns. She climbed higher as her dodging allowed her and scowled when she was able to make the Witch out clearly.
As per usual, it was the headless body of a girl wearing a school uniform— black skirt, long-sleeved black shirt, a sailor collar, and red kerchief. It had four sleeved arms where there should only have been two. From its skirt, two bare arms protruded where there should have been legs. The jumble of limbs was perched among the clotheslines like a spider. In a new development, all six palms were bloody.
Homura was going to have to pick this apart with Yoruichi later.
As Homura dodged around a desk and a Familiar, the Witch spread open its leg-arms. Myriad skate-Familiars and desks pelted out from under the billowing skirt. Homura tossed the shotgun, brandished her shield, and flared her magic protectively as she charged into the onslaught. The closer she got to the Witch, the harder it became to dodge along the haphazardly-strewn clotheslines. This labyrinth was one that always made Homura miss having Tomoe on her team. The blonde's ability to weave a direct-route ribbon-bridge tied to the existing clotheslines made this Witch so much easier to defeat.
It took some maneuvering, but Homura finally found a clear shot and froze time to maintain it. She couldn't get close enough to use a bomb as she did whenever Mami could get her closer, so she pulled five RPG launchers out of her shield in quick succession, firing them all up the Witch's skirt. When time resumed, the RPGs exploded and killed the Witch. A concussive shiver ran through all the clotheslines just before they disappeared. Homura calmly let herself fall, lightly landing on her feet in the real world as the Witch's Grief Seed drifted down in front of her.
Homura snatched up her prize with an annoyed huff and took off for home.
§ x § x §
"That's her?"
Yes, the Incubator confirmed.
"Hm-hmmm-hmmmmm, she wasn't in there very long. And hardly a scratch on her. She must be strong." The girl sat up straight. She was perched on the catwalk of a high billboard, swinging her legs happily as her long brown ponytail wafted in the breeze. The opera glasses in her hand dissolved into sparkles that retreated into her red Soul Gem. Her blue eyes slid to consider the Incubator suspiciously. "It's not like you to tip me off like this, Kyubey. You don't like to share. She a pain in your ass?"
Homura Akemi is an anomaly among magical girls. She appeared suddenly. She has not contracted with me.
"Huh? Then how is she a magical girl?"
I do not know.
A hungry grin stretched across the girl's face. "So she's ultra-rare— or maybe even unique?"
You could say that.
"I want her," the girl said huskily, then licked her lips. "If she showed up out of the blue, I'd better nab her before she pulls a runner. That girl in black will have to wait— the Pleiades will still be in Asunaro in a few days. I can't risk losing this one."
The Incubator remained impassive, neither approving nor disapproving.
§ x § x §
Thursday was rather melancholy for Sayaka. Her friends noticed, but Homura weighed her with a look and stayed silent and Madoka's attention seemed torn between her, Homura, and the glimpse of Mami Tomoe they had caught in the hall during a break. Hitomi watched her closely and was the one to finally say something at lunch.
"Miki, are you feeling unwell?" Hitomi asked quietly as she opened her bento.
Sayaka laughed awkwardly. "Ah, well, no. I'm fine. I'm just worried about Kyōsuke, I guess."
Hitomi tensed and looked worried. "I thought he was improving?!"
"Yeah. Last week, after a new therapy," Sayaka explained. "After a few days, the numbness started to creep back. It's not as bad as it was, but Kyōsuke is... upset."
"Of course he would be," Hitomi cried. "Do they know what's wrong?"
Sayaka sighed deeply and ran her hand through her hair. "They think maybe they all got too excited and over-used the hand exploring the progress, but it's a guess. They did scans, then they splinted it to force him to rest it for a couple days, and they're doing more tests today." She pouted. "I haven't been able to visit him since Saturday because of the circus."
"Then how do you know all of this, Miki?" Homura asked. She didn't sound particularly interested, though. Ah, wait— she'd never met the guy.
Scowling at her poorly-snapped chopsticks, Sayaka said, "His mom actually texted me an update for once." She stabbed around her bento distractedly. "She said I could visit today if I want, but says he's been angry at everybody who goes in his room. I dunno if I believe her. I've never seen him like that when I visit him. It doesn't sound like him. He'd never yell at me."
Hitomi and Madoka made sympathetic sounds and agreed. Homura stared at her for a long moment, watching her chew. Sayaka took another bite and made a weird face at the girl's unblinking intensity.
"You may be surprised by what medical setbacks can do to a person's mental state," Homura finally snapped sourly, her voice stilted and face pulled into a bitter half-frown. Sayaka flinched, but the magical girl continued, "It is like winning a prize and having it taken away. As though the universe has played a cruel trick. Do not visit him unless you are mentally prepared to see him furious and in despair. Prepared for him to lash out at you simply because you are a convenient target— and to not allow yourself to be wounded by his words. It would do neither of you any good. Once he says something hurtful because he is in pain, he cannot take it back and you cannot unhear it. It will constantly be in the background of your friendship. That is the foolish risk you would take by visiting him when he is in this mood. Wait for him to get a hold of himself or you will regret it." Disgust crossed her face— and something like disbelief?— before she looked away, broke her chopsticks perfectly, and ate as primly as Hitomi always did.
Sayaka exchanged uneasy glances with the other girls as they all chewed. The diatribe had been extremely rude, but something about the transfer student's bristling body language was enough to give all of them pause. It felt like the atmosphere had gotten heavier. Sayaka was glad to have her mouth full of food to keep an automatic comeback from slipping past her lips. A sassy "What would you know?" would probably not be helpful.
Besides, Stranger Danger kinda had a lot on her mind. Grumpiness would be understandable— maybe even expected. And she... yeah, she had a really good point. Sayaka wished she could slow down and be as insightful as the magical girl. Homura might be the most mature person my age that I know, she thought.
"You're right, Homura," Sayaka said frankly after a long pause. It seemed to startle the other girl. Whether it was because she wasn't arguing or had used her actual name for once, Sayaka couldn't say. "I... hadn't thought about it that way. I'll just send him a text or something. Say I'm sorry to hear about whatever and to call me if he wants me. Thanks."
Homura opened her mouth to speak, paused, then warily said, "You are... welcome?"
The look on her face was just too funny. Sayaka laughed brightly, mood lightening. "Really! You might've saved me from making a total dummy of myself with him!"
Solemnity returning, Homura stared for a moment then quietly said, "I am glad you can see it that way."
"Well, you were pretty harsh, young lady," Sayaka babbled happily. She wagged a chastising finger, enjoying the sudden uncomfortable sideways glance it triggered. Thinking of the magical girl's no-nonsense warnings about other things, she winked and added, "But that's just how you get sometimes when you worry about people, isn't it?"
Madoka and Hitomi cooed as Homura huffed and refused to look at any of them, cheeks pink.
Sayaka's pleased smirk lingered through the rest of the lunch period.
§ x § x §
Late that night, Homura transformed in her house, froze time, and set out for the hospital with Yoruichi in her arms. She navigated the silent halls to Kyōsuke Kamijō's room with ease and stood at the foot of his bed, frowning down at him. His injured arm was in a bulky splint and there were dried tear tracks on his sleeping face.
"Idiot," she finally snapped.
"Now, now," Yoruichi chided. "I told you last time that what you did wasn't particularly thorough and probably wouldn't last a long time. And you have no idea if he actually did overwork it to ruin your work."
Homura scowled. After a moment of silence, she stubbornly repeated, "Idiot."
Yoruichi sighed, then shimmied up from Homura's arms to her shoulders. "Grab his chart. Let's look at it before we do anything. And get out Kisuke's diagram." After ten suspended minutes of reading, Yoruichi said, "I think we should stick with the gradual plan. See the path Kisuke highlighted in green?"
"Yes. The median nerve."
"Did he teach you how to find its major connectors with Mr. Monk?"
Homura slowly turned her head to look at the cat, disturbed. "You... know about the dummy?"
"Of course."
"You did not warn me."
"Of course not. That wouldn't be any fun. So did he?"
"Yes." Homura pointed to a half dozen points on Kamijō's arm. "Roughly here, though it takes time to pin each down for certain. He said every body has variations and to consider that Kamijō might have more connections than average if he usually has such fine dexterity."
"Good." Yoruichi settled more comfortably on Homura's shoulders. "Start at the wrist and work up to the shoulder. Finding each will be the hardest part. Use only a bit of carefully-controlled reiatsu at each point. Encouraging the median to repair itself will help with fine motor control and sensation in some of the fingers. He has other, more complex issues, but this will be a gentle start to help the stuff down the line where the median branches. Nothing deep or thorough yet, but enough for him to notice a difference. We'll reinforce it sometime next week."
Homura took a deep breath and concentrated.
§ x § x §
After what felt like hours of trial and error seeking tiny needles in a hayloft and threading them with spidersilk, Homura returned to her home, allowed time to resume, and staggered to her bed. She flopped on it and lay breathing deeply for a few minutes as Yoruichi fussed around her.
"Get out one of your Grief Seeds and use it before you pass out," Yoruichi said firmly.
Homura blinked the blurriness from her eyes, then wearily reached into her shield. She rolled on her side and tapped the Grief Seed against her Soul Gem, which was dirtier than she ever felt comfortable leaving it. The amethyst's impurities used up the entire Grief Seed in one hit. Homura shoved the Grief Seed back in her shield, released her transformation, and sighed.
"You shouldn't have pushed yourself so hard," Yoruichi chided.
"Need him... don't tempt Sayaka," Homura slurred, eyes already closed. "Harder... than I thought."
"It will get easier with practice," Yoruichi said quietly. "You're still very lossy on transfer and working at a disadvantage by simultaneously maintaining the time stop so long. If you use manufactured weaponry all the time, it makes sense you run into endurance problems when multitasking your magic. We'll have to get closer to the hospital first next time. Minimize wasted travel time while you build endurance and finesse."
"Rather not've the Incubator see... me near there," muttered Homura. "Don' want it... pokin' 'round why... I go there."
The cat sighed. "We'll talk about it more when you've recovered."
Homura was snoring lightly before Yoruichi finished the sentence.
§ x § x §
By the time Homura woke up, it was nearly lunch time. Thoroughly disgusted with herself despite Yoruichi's insistence that it was a common reaction, Homura decided to forgo showing up to school late and spent the afternoon obsessively studying the charts and reading material Urahara had given her at his healing lesson. Yoruichi gave up trying to talk to her and spent her time lazing in the sunshine filtering in the window. Both were startled when the doorbell rang, but they recognized the magic on the other side. Homura rose and opened the door for Madoka and Sayaka. Both looked concerned.
"Yes?" Homura prompted when they just stood and stared.
"We— we were so worried!" Madoka fretted.
"Did something happen?" Sayaka asked.
"Are you hurt?!"
Homura blinked at them owlishly as Yoruichi wove between her ankles to greet the girls with ankle-rubs. "Ah. I had a... very long night. I slept until lunch and decided to stay home."
Both friends sighed deeply. Sayaka scowled and put her hands on her hips. "Why didn't you text us or something?"
The thought had never occurred to her. She tilted her head curiously. "Why should I?"
Sayaka huffed and jabbed a finger into Homura's cheek repeatedly. "We're your friends! Get it through your head that we give a damn about you and would like to know you're not lying in a ditch somewhere!"
Homura made no move to stop the poking, just staring at Sayaka with a baffled look on her face. Sayaka apparently decided to keep poking until she reacted, her face set in a stubborn pout. Typical of Sayaka, really, but Homura couldn't remember being on the receiving end before. She usually did stuff like this to Madoka. Sometimes Kyōko.
"If I promise to notify you next time, will you stop that?" Homura finally asked grumpily.
"Y-e-e-e-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s," Sayaka drawled, poking Homura again but wiggling her finger in a circle on the cheek, pulling one side of Homura's frown into a smile. Madoka giggled at the motion as she bent and picked up Yoruichi.
"Fine," Homura huffed as she brushed Sayaka's hand away. "Would you like to come in?"
Homura escorted them to the living room and gestured at the table. "Please have a seat while I get some snacks."
"Ah! We brought your classwork!" Madoka said.
Homura vaguely gestured over her shoulder. "Just put it on my desk, thank you."
When she returned with a tray of tea and Yuzu's endless cookies, Madoka was seated and Sayaka was standing by the desk with school papers, frowning at the diagrams Homura had been studying. The ones about the human hand. Mentally, Homura did a full-body cringe. Sloppy. Sloppy. Sloppy. Maybe she still needed more sleep.
"What's this?" Sayaka asked.
"A project," Homura said curtly as she set the tea tray on the table.
"For what?"
"None of your business."
Sayaka's face transitioned into contrary mode. "Why not?"
"It is personal," Homura snapped. "You should not go looking through other people's papers."
"They're just laying here in the open," Sayaka argued with a pout.
"Sayaka, stop it," Madoka scolded. "We're guests."
"But it looks so interesting!"
"Homura will tell us about it only if she wants to," Madoka argued. "I told you not to look and you did anyway. Don't be even more rude."
Sayaka sulkily dropped the school papers and moved to the table to sit. Madoka elbowed her and made an expectant face. Sayaka looked down at the table and mumbled, "Sorry, Stranger Danger."
Homura sighed and tamped down her anger— which was honestly mostly at herself. "Do not do it again."
"I won't."
After a long, awkward silence while the girls poured tea and munched cookies, Sayaka asked, "So, was your late night... magical girl business?"
"Yes."
"Oh." Sayaka fiddled with the handle of her teacup and looked up through her bangs. "Do you need help with a cover story or something?"
Homura sighed. "Not particularly. I have notes in my school file about a medical condition that makes my absences less likely to raise eyebrows."
"Medical condition?" Madoka asked worriedly.
"I used to have a heart condition," Homura carefully explained after a pause. "I spent much of my childhood in and out of hospitals. Between an experimental surgery and my healing abilities as a magical girl, it is not a problem anymore. The adults just do not know that."
Sayaka perked up as though she had a realization, but clamped her mouth shut and kept it to herself. Odd.
"Should we tell people you had heart trouble, then?" Madoka asked.
"No. That would make my gym participation suspicious," Homura replied. She looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Say... that I pulled something near my surgical scar while... hmmm."
"Moving heavy furniture to get something your cat dropped behind it?" Sayaka suggested after they all thought.
"That works," Homura agreed. "Let's say this something was a piece of fish I did not want to rot. I pulled my muscle and scar here—" Homura slid a finger along her rib cage beneath her left armpit— and I chose to rest it for a day."
"Works for me!" Sayaka cheered.
"Got it," Madoka agreed with a wan smile.
Sayaka pressed her hands to her cheeks and stared into the distance excitedly. "We get to help with cover stories! Guarding magical girl secrets! Cool!"
Homura didn't have the energy to discourage Sayaka's fantasies verbally so she just frowned her disapproval. Sayaka didn't notice but Madoka did. The pink-haired girl smiled ruefully and shrugged in Sayaka's general direction. Sayaka's being Sayaka. You get used to it.
Actually, she did have the energy. "You are incorrigible," Homura sighed.
"What's that?" Sayaka chirped, snapping out of her fantasy.
"Nothing," Homura and Madoka said at the same time. They met each other's eyes. Madoka giggled and Homura reluctantly smiled.
"What? What did I miss?"
"Nothing," Madoka repeated innocently.
"What's incorrigg— corragg— corrugatedible?"
Homura snorted into her tea while Madoka laughed joyfully.
§ x § x §
Homura allowed herself to be dragged to Madoka's house for dinner. Yoruichi played with Tatsuya while Madoka cemented Homura's cover story by expressing concern while Homura tried to limit her left arm's movement as though it was tender. Tomohisa and Junko Kaname fussed over her even more than Isshin Kurosaki had. After dinner, Tomohisa went back into the kitchen and cooked up a storm in a way that strongly reminded Homura of Yuzu, packing two days' worth of meals for her to take home so she could rest her "pulled muscle." He announced that Madoka would bring an extra bento to school for her for a few days so she didn't have to prepare or carry her own. Madoka was sent home with her to carry everything for her and both adults offered to help her with anything heavy in the future. It was touching and made her feel guilty that it was all based on a lie.
After Madoka left, Homura sighed and rolled her shoulders. She looked at Yoruichi and grudgingly said, "I need to restock tonight. I used up a lot of shotguns on Wednesday."
Yoruichi hopped up from chair to desk to the book shelf Homura had eventually just cleared for her dedicated use and watched Homura grabbing casual clothes from drawers. "Do you actually keep track of inventory or do you just throw stuff in there just in case?"
"I know exactly how much of what is in my shield," Homura replied distractedly.
"Oh? You take notes?"
"No."
"You just know?"
"Yes." Homura went into the bathroom to change. She didn't particularly like dressing in front of the cat-woman.
"That's interesting," Yoruichi called.
"I suppose."
Clothes changed into uninteresting neutral tones and carrying a small purse, Homura murmured a goodbye and stepped out into the night. She casually made her way to the mall, bought a large boba tea to drink while wandering around, browsed at a book store, bought a book, and headed to the restroom. Once in a stall, she hung her belongings on the peg, transformed, and stopped time. She walked through the mall briskly and took to the rooftops once outside, heading directly to her nearby target.
The Yakuza locker room was full of men smoking cigarettes, as usual. She pilfered each locker, storing any weapon she found into her shield and carefully replacing the doors to whatever position they had started at. The storeroom was dim, but she knew it by heart now— robbing the Yakuza blind was routine these days. Once done, she turned north and pilfered a JSDF base. Very routine.
Before long, she had retraced her steps to the mall bathroom. She released her transformation, waited a moment, flushed the toilet, and left. She was still a bit tired from the previous night and was just done dealing with humanity for the day, so she detoured through alleys to avoid the press of bodies on public transit on a Friday night.
She hadn't gotten far when her instincts screamed in alarm and a girl dropped from the rooftops half a block in front of her. The stranger wore a loose sweater over short-shorts and her long brown hair trailed behind her in a sleek ponytail. The girl smiled and clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forward playfully. Homura could sense that she was definitely a magical girl. A strong one she had never seen before. This was probably bad.
"Hi! I'm Ayase Sōju!" the girl called loudly. "I heard your name is Homura Akemi. Is that true?" she asked with a wink.
Homura frowned. That was ominous.
"Ooh, the stoic type? Nice." Ayase kicked a foot back and forth in another playful gesture. "I need you to answer so I can label you correctly, though."
Homura scowled. "I am not in the mood to play games. Leave."
"But playing games is so fun!" Ayase cheered, throwing her hands wide with a grin. Her Soul Gem sparked red on her left hand. "I'll show you a good time! I have a lot to show you!"
Irritated and wanting to avoid a fight until she knew more, Homura triggered her transformation. She froze time just as a frilly white dress coalesced around the other girl, shoved her book and purse into her shield, then walked up to Ayase and scrutinized her face. After some thought, she pulled her spare phone out of her shield and snapped some pictures. Not wanting to kill the girl until she knew what her motives were but too grumpy to deal with it that night, Homura sniffed disdainfully and took to the rooftops. Instead of going home, she veered hard south toward Shinchi to see if the girl would follow her, staying just within sensory range for someone of that girl's strength.
Time resumed. Homura waited for an hour, but the magical girl didn't follow. The distant magic churned in frustration for a bit, then retreated west. However, she soon felt that marching band magical girl homing in on her position, so she froze time again and went home.
Yoruichi startled when time resumed and Homura seemed to pop into existence from nowhere.
"Well, you look pissed," she said drily. "I felt you transform a second time. What happened?"
"A complication." Homura yanked her purse and book out of her shield and sourly threw them on the floor. "A new magical girl I have never seen before confronted me and seemed to want to fight me."
Yoruichi's ears perked back up and she bristled. "Not in all your timelines?"
"Never." Homura released her transformation, kicked her shoes off, and stalked toward her bedroom. "I am in no mood. I left and she went west. She will have to wait."
She went to bed but was too angry to sleep at first. Even though she had been trying to accomplish change for ages, she hated when change popped up in the form of complete unknowns.
§ x § x §
§ x § x §
§ x § x §
WITCH DATA
PATRICIA
The Class Representative Witch. Her nature is to remain an onlooker. Using the spiderlike threads which she vomits forth, she created a school for herself alone within the sky of her barrier and endlessly acts out an ordinary daily student life there. If you ring the going-home bell, this witch will likely return to her house somewhere.
Minion: Mathieu, whose role is to be her classmates. Although the skates on their feet allow them to glide gracefully along the threads, all of them are actually controlled by the witch using her threads, and they have no will of their own.
A/N: A new challenger appears!
If you've read Kazumi Magica, you probably have an idea where this is going.
If you haven't read Kazumi Magica, it just means you won't be spoiled for a twist.
This chapter was replaced with an edited version on November 1, 2019. Reviews with timestamps before that date refer to a slightly different version of the chapter.