A/N: Why was this chapter so difficult to write. Why.
To those who frequently worry about the logistics of notebooks/journals/letters being inadequate for conveying non-Homura memories with each loop: I do have Plans, but you're also making an assumption that may not be correct.
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NEUNUNDFÜNFZIG
TIMELINE X + N + 1
Kisuke needs to come up with a plan before I lose it and just go rabbit-hunting, Isshin thought to Engetsu as he watched his children with Homura. Engetsu smoldered in silent agreement, an ominous harvest moon low on the horizon.
When Isshin had last seen Homura two weeks ago, she had been subdued but cautiously opening up like a flower bud peeking through snow in early spring. In the time since then, winter had proven that spring false and frosted the bud shut. That thousand-yard stare was back, facial expressions were all but gone, and she reacted to Karin and Yuzu's affections with a dull monotony, mechanically going through the motions of what she knew she was supposed to do in response. Isshin agreed with Kisuke: Homura had regressed. It broke his heart.
Isshin fleetingly came back to wanting to introduce Ayase Sōju to Engetsu, as he had ever since he read Kisuke's may-as-well-be-an-autopsy report. He added Luca as an afterthought. Teenagers or not, they were monsters who had wrought all kinds of havoc on one of his girls.
At least Homura seemed to be able to express curiosity. Maybe that could be an inroad. Kisuke had said she was pissed at him for withholding information. Maybe Isshin could offer to talk to her about spirit stuff. Isshin saw that his son was looking at Homura speculatively behind her back; they would have to sit down to a strategy session after the girls were asleep.
Yuzu started leading Homura toward him, but the girl stopped when she noticed the other person in the room for the first time. Hachi was an imposing man at first glance, tall and broad and rotund, but the mellow kindness on his face was reassuring. The olive green suit and yellow bow tie he wore were also disarming. His eyes twinkled and his pink mustache twitched as he smiled at Homura and bowed. "Welcome back to Karakura."
"Who are you?" Homura asked bluntly, her undertone of challenge unmistakable.
"Hachigen Ushōda," he answered politely. "I am a colleague of Tessai's. I am assisting with minding the shop while Tessai and Kisuke are away and stabilized the reishi henkan-ki from this end."
Homura eyed him suspiciously, but turned away and allowed Yuzu to lead her toward the exit. Behind them, Ichigo heaved a dismayed sigh and met Isshin's eyes.
The four of them ascended to the trap door in the ceiling. Isshin still was not used to his daughters being able to flash step even though he had been training them. They emerged in a back room of Urahara Shop and wended their way through the halls until they reached the storefront. Though it was very late, Ururu was tidying up and restocking shelves with the questionable assistance of Jinta and Hiyori, who were doing more aggressive bickering than anything else. Isshin wondered who thought it was smart to put the two of them together.
...Probably Kisuke.
Ururu greeted them politely, traded a long look with Homura, and turned back to her task with a nod. Jinta didn't seem to notice them, but Hiyori immediately latched onto how Homura was eyeing her suspiciously. "What're you squinting at, Baldy?!"
"Shut it, bitchface," Karin snapped. "This is not the time."
The blonde shook with rage. "I'll bitchface you!"
Karin sneered. "Bring it, shorty!"
"Let's go!" Hiyori reached back over her shoulder for her sword, which was slung over her red tracksuit.
Ichigo's hand slammed down on her shoulder. "Don't even, Hiyori," he growled.
"Someone needs to teach your sister when to shut her smart mouth," the blonde snarled.
Karin took a threatening posture and widened her arms in invitation. "Fight me!"
Homura, who had watched impassively, swept in front of Karin and grabbed one of her hands. She tugged Karin's arm as she walked past and coldly said, "Come. That child is not worth your effort."
"What did you call me, Baldy?!" Hiyori screeched.
Homura paused to glance over her shoulder disdainfully. "A child. Your insults are kindergarten level at best and you are throwing a tantrum. Go to bed." She turned forward and tossed her hair over shoulder dismissively, then said, "Come, Karin. We have better things to do than waste time with her," and pulled Karin toward the front door. Karin stumbled after her willingly, looking back over her shoulder and cackling the whole way out into the yard. Jinta also pointed at Hiyori and laughed. Yuzu made a judgey little hmph and flounced out after her sister.
Hiyori tried to lunge after them but Ichigo threw her over his shoulder and stalked back down the hall. "I'll catch up to you guys in bit," he called out. "I need to have a talk."
Isshin and Ururu looked at each other blankly in the wake of the tempest. Engetsu muttered, Well. That escalated quickly.
At least Homura still has Karin's back... I guess, Isshin thought to his zanpakutō spirit.
Orrr she decided she hates Sarugaki just. that. much.
Isshin sighed, scrubbed his face in his hands, and left to rejoin the girls.
He caught up with them two blocks away. Homura had slowed, but still loosely held Karin's hand as she led the way. Karin was plainly allowing her to do so, deliberately submissive to maintain the hand-holding. As Isshin watched, Yuzu sped up and hooked her arm in Homura's free elbow, then matched her pace. Homura stiffened, but relaxed and otherwise showed no reaction. Yuzu didn't lean in close or say anything— touching, but allowing space. Homura did not reject her move.
Karin and Yuzu still had an inroad with her— had access to some chink in her armor. Thank God.
Isshin decided to be passive that night. Let Homura get comfortable with the twins. He'd be present and available but not intrusive. His daughters seemed to get Homura on some deep, priceless level that gained them access to the girl's emotional fortress, so he'd be their willing assistant as they helped her untangle her knots.
When they got home, Yuzu led their human chain into the kitchen and ushered Homura into a seat. Isshin hung back by the doorway and waited for direction, trusting Yuzu's lead. Her fleeting glance and approving smile at him made his lips quirk. Ah, Masaki. If you could see your daughters now...
"Karin," Yuzu said in an assertive tone that made her sister all but snap to attention, "get Homura a glass of... what would you like, Homura?"
"Water is fine," Homura said quietly.
Yuzu nodded at Karin, who turned to comply. Yuzu bent and took Homura's hand. "When's the last time you ate?"
Homura stared at her blankly. "I do not remember."
"Are you hungry?"
"I... suppose."
Yuzu nodded again as Karin set the water in front of Homura and stepped back. "I'm going to cook you something small," Yuzu announced. "Then we can do whatever you want."
Homura stared at the glass of water dully. After a long minute of silence, she said, "I would just like to sleep. I am... tired."
Isshin remembered what his other self had written about the first night Homura had been in their home. He saw the resemblance to Ichigo after his mother's death even though all of her friends were still alive. So the events may have made her feel like she had pushed her friends so far away they may as well be dead and lost. Damn. Well, at least she could admit to being tired and hungry this time.
Cold comfort.
He quietly cleared his throat to get their attention. "Homura, is there anything you'd like me to do or get?"
She stared at him a bit, then said, "No."
"All right," Isshin said. He took a step back. "If you need me for anything— and I mean anything— just call for me, okay? You too, girls. Same goes for Ichigo when he gets home."
"Thank you, Daddy."
"Got it, Goat Face."
Homura just tilted her head and stared some more.
Isshin sighed heavily and offered her a gentle smile. "Good night."
His daughters chirped it back at him, but Homura still stared in silence.
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Homura woke slowly on Sunday morning, surrounded by warmth. She rubbed her sore eyes and sleepily looked around the room in the weak light of predawn. Karin and Yuzu bracketed her on either side of the futon on the floor between their beds. Yuzu was still on her side facing Homura with one hand loosely holding the end of the braid made of smaller braids she had made while listening to Homura talk— well, babble-cry— the night before. Calmer now, Homura figured out that Yuzu had been soothing her with a repetitive set of motions that kept her close but involved minimal touch. It was something Madoka would have thought to do. There had been a few timelines when Madoka had spoken to her gently after a breakdown and woven her hair together while she cried. Madoka had held her, playing with her hair from the other end of a hug, tho—
She forcibly stopped the memory. Focus on the now.
Karin had started out facing Homura from her other side, close without touching except to occasionally prod Homura's ankle with her toes if she lost herself for too long mid-sentence. Karin had rested her chin on her hands and watched Homura's face keenly, noting every tear and grimace with calculating gray eyes that betrayed violent thoughts as she muttered a low string of profanity-laden commentary on the people who had hurt Homura. Somehow, the outside offense and anger and salty language soothed Homura. She felt... validated. Now, Karin seemed to have turned in her sleep and was spread-eagled on her front, the arm closest to Homura resting against the top of Homura's head. Strangely, Homura felt no need to get away from the contact. Strange, how something so minor actually made Homura feel welcome. Like it was natural for her to be there between the sisters.
Homura closed her eyes and loosened her magic a bit, reaching with her senses. The twins were two complimentary sets of welcome— one slightly possessive in her protectiveness, the other a curious sort of all-are-welcome, ingathering sparkle of desire to cheer. Just beyond their huddle, they were once again flanked by the warm, contained-wildness moonlight-and-embers magic of the Kurosaki men. They were unseen banked fires of... protective concern, Homura thought. Whatever it was, she basked in it. The four of them. She didn't understand how she was so comfortable with them. She wanted to, but was also afraid to. It reminded her of when she had been small and endlessly fascinated by laying on her back and sinking into the ridiculously fluffy down comforter on her parents' bed; it gave her mixed feelings she had trouble identifying. So she settled into it, accepted it, without thinking too deeply on it.
She lay drowsily for a long time as the room gradually brightened, eyes heavy-lidded as she felt around with her magic in lazy curiosity about the residents of Karakura. The vast majority really did have at least the slightest touch of magic, with points of brighter magic scattered here and there. Several nearby were very bright, but she could only identify that girl who had joined her and Inoue on the rooftops in the last timeline. Whatever her name was. Homura's wandering magic noticed when Isshin woke up, his magic shifting from nebulous in sleep to more focused; he seemed to notice her magic, as his own flickered with amusement.
Awhile later, Isshin's magic moved past their room and paused near Ichigo's. It stopped and gently poked at Homura in question. Homura snorted aloud and prodded back. Isshin's cheered like an eager puppy and Ichigo's door opened with a slam. This time Homura understood his shouted GOOOOOD MOOORNING ICHIGOOO! before Ichigo's window slammed open and Isshin howled on his way out it before it slammed closed behind him. This time she perceived Ichigo's magic cycle through startled-notsurprised-irritated-playful-satisfied-affectionate-grumpy-alert. Weird.
How was this her life. How was she okay with this. So strange.
Karin pried herself off the floor with her elbows with a growled goddamn idiots and sat up on her knees to rub her eyes. Yuzu yawned and stretched. Down the hall, Ichigo was shouting down the stairs at Isshin, who was bawling loudly. Their magic was tinged with a mutual playfulness that made for a strange contrast with their morning routine. And it was a routine, almost a show; one that Homura was building an ah, I've seen this episode already acceptance to. Homura blinked drowsily and let her eyes wander to the window and take in the soft blues of the sky.
The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, Madoka was alive and uncontracted, and Homura felt... safe.
Homura joined the entire Kurosaki family in a cooperative effort to make a big breakfast. Except their bantering, playful bickering, and a flour war consisting of Ichigo and Karin vs. Isshin dragged out the prep until they had to call it brunch to save face. Yuzu smiled and hummed as the rest of the family shrieked with laughter behind her back while she taught Homura how to cook another dish. Homura kept glancing over her shoulder at them with conflicting emotions— confusion, consternation, amusement, disapproval— but Yuzu acted like it was normal so she didn't say anything.
Then there was the sound of something breaking. Everything fell silent as Yuzu continued humming but wiped her hands on a towel and turned to face her family. Homura turned and eyed them with her. The rowdy ones were all frozen mid-action, Karin's arm rearing back to throw a fistful of flour, Isshin brandishing a plate like a shield, and Ichigo staring in shock at some kind of ceramic shards on the floor. All slowly looked at Yuzu with horror.
Yuzu smiled. "I think that's enough play for now."
Even Homura shivered.
Brunch started with the flour-covered miscreants subdued as guilty children, but it wasn't long before they had cheered back up. Isshin started telling stories about strange patients that week, which prompted a sprawling reminiscence of all strange patients through the years complete with contributions by the Kurosaki children, who had apparently been assisting in the clinic for years. Homura tentatively told a story about someone she once had to share a hospital room with. Her account of the nurses' subtle revenge on the snobby woman had them rolling. A smile played across Homura's face at causing it.
Yuzu ordered her family to clean up and dragged Homura back upstairs. "You can't just wear your uniform all the time," she declared. "Pick something out."
Homura opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Karin's distant voice hollering, "You'd better be putting on something you can play soccer in, you dweebs!"
An hour later, Homura stood beside Yuzu on a soccer field, fidgeting in her borrowed shorts, shirt, and sneakers while the brunette hummed cheerfully. They watched Karin commandeer random kids from the park between furiously texting her soccer minions. Soon, summoned minions began to appear from every direction.
The one with glasses whined, "Heyyy, you said Hitsugaya would be here!"
Karin looked him in the eye, face an uncaring deadpan, and bluntly said, "I lied."
"No fair," complained the one with curly hair.
"Life's not fair, Donny," Karin said with a dismissive wave. "Let's make teams."
Homura allowed herself to get lost in the game, let the world beyond the soccer field fade until all that mattered were an exertion that didn't involve the keyed-up edginess of life-or-death battle, a far more soothing application of adrenaline rushing through her, and the scents of freshly-mown grass and clean sweat. The only sounds were the shouting of players, the scuffling and pounding of feet on sod, and Isshin's distant cheering from atop a park bench as Ichigo lazed on it beside him. The lightness started to feel like a natural high of sorts. She was firmly tied to the here and now for once.
Then one of Karin's minions failed at stealing the ball from Homura, slipped, and grabbed a fistful of her hair to steady himself with a hard yank that twisted her head. Reacting without thinking or making any sound, Homura jerked her elbow back into his solar plexus and floored him. Everyone on the field froze in silence for a moment before Karin cackled and shouted, "The ball! Homura, the ball!"
"That was a foul!" shouted one of the other minions.
"Ryohei fouled her first!"
"So what?!"
"I don't see a ref, Heita, do you?!"
Said minion looked to the bench holding the Kurosaki men and found no sympathy. He looked to Yuzu and found a frighteningly bland smile.
"The baaalllll, Ho-mu-raaaaa!" Karin shouted impatiently. "Keep your eyes on the prize!"
Still off-balance by the situation, Homura mechanically positioned herself and kicked the ball toward Karin over Ryohei's groaning body. She stood and watched in confusion as Karin crowed triumphantly and the game picked back up. The minion at Homura's feet rolled onto his front and pried himself up to his knees with a deep gasp. He glanced up at her sideways with a combination of fear and respect.
"You... really are like Karin," he wheezed.
Homura found herself pleased, oddly enough. Even though she couldn't tell if that was intended as an insult or a compliment. "Most people would apologize for hair-pulling," she said coolly.
"Jeez, sorry, I was falling and your hair was there," the boy huffed as he gained his feet. "If you have that much hair you should be used to people pulling it by now."
That had actually been a Major Problem at her old school, so very long ago. Homura scowled at him fiercely. He quailed and scrambled away from her. If Homura played more roughly after that, Karin certainly didn't complain. No one else made a grab for her hair, either.
A couple hours of intense play later, the three magical girls were the only ones with any stamina left. The randomly drafted playground kids Karin had hustled into playing drifted away one by one; Karin's minions remained out of wariness of their commander but looked dead on their feet by late afternoon and took off quickly once Karin gave them leave. Isshin fawned over them and declared a victory dinner. The Kurosaki family caught Homura up in their current as they jostled and flowed to the little pho place they had taken her to in... was it this timeline or last timeline? Whatever. Homura kept her protests about their appearances to herself even though her proper upbringing was screaming to her that they didn't belong in a restaurant while breathing heavily and covered in dirt and stale sweat and grass stains. She sat back and forced herself to drink her third glass of water more slowly, watching over the rim of her cup as Isshin and Karin dramatically analyzed and reenacted several scenes from the game. At high volume. With expansive arm gestures. Yuzu encouraged them from Homura's left as she downed her own water and Ichigo leaned back in his chair and snorted or chuckled fondly at them from Homura's right.
Ichigo's eyes met Homura's and crinkled in amusement. He leaned toward her and said under his breath, "Karin will scream from the rooftops that she's not like the old man, but she really kinda is. Sometimes, at least."
Homura eyed the father and daughter, who were shaking their fists in the air as Karin perched on a chair and stomped a foot on the table, striking a victorious pose with a furious face. Both were yelling and acting like the game had been a glorious battle.
"I see it," Homura agreed without hesitation, dully wondering if this restaurant would kick them out for rowdiness.
It did not. People in Karakura seemed to be immune to Kurosaki strangeness. It was the only thing Homura could come up with when pondering why they didn't get pitched out into the street by police. She suddenly understood what the train conductors had bickered about in the last timeline: Karakura was a basket of absurdity and the residents had grown disturbingly used to it.
They got home as the sun set. Karin barreled up the stairs and Yuzu pulled Homura up with them. They took turns showering off the grime of the game, the sisters pushing their guest to go first. Afterward, Homura wore the nightdress Yuzu laid out for her without really thinking about it and sat down to prepare for the task of untangling her hair. Which she really, really should have braided before the game.
The sisters came back into the bedroom together, Yuzu with her hair up in a towel and Karin with her hair fanned out over the towel around her shoulders, just as Homura finished pulling supplies out of her shield.
"What," Karin said blankly.
"What's all that for, Homura?" Yuzu asked.
In answer, Homura tugged the towel off her hair, let the entire mess fall down around her, and stared at them drily. She felt like she was peering out at them from a mass of black seaweed. The surprised faces they made amused her, though.
"Holy crap," Karin said, voice detached with shock.
Isshin's voice drifted up from downstairs before Yuzu could say anything. "Girrrrrr-rrrllls, iiiiiiice creeeeeam!"
"You look like that ghost girl that crawls out of TVs," Karin continued. From her tone, this wasn't a bad thing. She was approaching gleeful and looked like she had ideas.
Homura blinked at the doorway dispassionately. Yuzu drew up in determination and declared, "Karin, grab her stuff. We'll help her downstairs."
"That will not be necessary," Homura demurred.
"Shut it, Rapunzel," Karin said as she bent and gathered combs, brushes, and bottles into a jumble in her arms. "Ice cream's calling. Let's go."
Ichigo's double-take when he glanced up from the couch and saw Homura looking like a drowned rat was admittedly hilarious, Homura thought as the sisters herded her into the family room. Karin dumped all the supplies on the coffee table and set them upright. Yuzu pointed where she wanted Homura to sit and Homura just did not have the energy to object, so she sat. The brunette started organizing the supplies. She picked up one of the bottles of leave-in conditioner and examined it like a connoisseur of fine wines.
"You have good taste in product," Yuzu said in a businesslike tone. She glanced at Karin and ordered her to get their ice cream, exchanged the conditioner for a de-tangler, then popped the cap and settled in behind Homura.
"Trial and error," Homura said quietly.
"The best teacher," Yuzu quipped as she started spraying the liquid into Homura's damp hair.
Karin and Isshin ended up bringing the entire bucket of ice cream into the living room and plunking it and the bowls and spoons on the coffee table. Isshin cheerfully lined up the bowls and started fighting the ice cream with a serving spoon. Karin sat with her chin in her hands and looked at Homura.
"Are you sure your name isn't Sadako?" she drawled. "Or Rapunzel?"
"Homurapunzel?" Ichigo said with a smirk.
Karin whipped around and looked at him with delight. "Homurapunzel. You're a genius!"
Ichigo smirked and preened, then turned to Homura. He watched Yuzu start carding the slicked hair with her fingers to get the biggest snarls sorted out. "It sounds dumb, but I really hadn't noticed just how long your hair is."
"It goes down to her butt," Karin observed incredulously.
"It looks longer because it is wet," Homura said dismissively.
Yuzu cooed, "It's beautiful, but the upkeep must be exhausting."
"Oh my God, seriously, how do you live with that much hair?" Karin said. "I grew mine out long enough for a decent ponytail and even that annoys the hell out of me sometimes."
Homura shrugged. "My hair has always been long. I am used to it. It only bothers me when it gets like this."
"Doesn't it get like this every time you fight?" Ichigo asked with a curious tilt of his head.
"Not particularly," Homura replied, carefully holding her head exactly as Yuzu placed it. "Unless my magic is extremely strained."
"Wait wait wait. You make your magic take care of your hair?" Karin blurted.
What? Homura had never even considered it. "No."
"So, what... maybe unconsciously? Subconsciously, whichever." Karin leaned forward with a grin. "Do you hate untangling your hair so much that your magic just avoids tangling your hair? Makes every strand just flow perfectly? Magical automatic tangle prevention?"
Homura stared blankly at her, thought for a moment about how Mami would sometimes use— waste— her magic to put her hair in perfect pigtails with a snap when in a hurry, then fervently hoped that wasn't really the case. It would be so petty.
"Do you want chocolate on top, Homura?" Isshin asked brightly.
"...Yes, please," Homura said slowly. "Just... a bit."
Isshin whistled a cheerful tune and set out the bowls of ice cream in front of everyone. Yuzu took one large spoonful and went back to work on Homura's hair, this time with a large comb. Homura shifted awkwardly as they all watched her like some kind of museum exhibit.
"No, seriously, you could strangle someone with it," Karin declared.
"What?" Homura asked with a confused frown.
"Your hair," Karin clarified. "You could seriously strangle someone with that hair. Or smother them." She noticed the weird look Homura gave her and turned to Ichigo and Isshin. "Back me up here, guys!"
"Captain Unohana's is probably longer," Isshin said immediately. "Her braid is that long, so her hair must be longer when down. I've never seen it, though. She always keeps it in a braid under her chin."
"Say what?" Karin said. "How does that work?"
"I dunno," Ichigo said with a shrug, "but it looks like she's wearing a black noose with the rope going down her front."
"A noose?" Karin blurted in surprise.
"She's a terrifying woman, so it suits her," Isshin said darkly as he shuddered over a spoonful of ice cream. Ichigo shuddered with him.
"That sounds highly impractical," Homura observed. "It would be a handicap on anything she wants to do with her arms. If she bends, it will get in her way."
"That may be the entire point," Isshin wondered aloud. "The challenge of working with a limitation, I mean. Keep life interesting after a couple millennia."
...Millennia? Were shinigami really that long-lived?
"Whatever. She can make it into a noose," Karin declared.
"On herself," Ichigo said drily.
Karin ignored him. "Homurapunzel could totally strangle someone with that hair."
"Well, yes, technically, but it would be extremely difficult and expose her to close-quarters attack," Isshin said thoughtfully.
Yuzu picked up a smaller wide-toothed comb and another bottle. "Not worth it."
Homura relaxed into quiet comfort as Yuzu worked on her hair and the others engaged in a gossiping session about the hairstyles of various shinigami. It had been a long time since Homura had allowed anyone but a Madoka dozens of timelines ago so close to her hair— a long time since she trusted anyone but Madoka with her vulnerable neck and back. It was soothing; it brought back memories of sleepovers with the Mitakihara girls in early, innocent timelines and shades of her mother caring for her hair when she felt too ill and weak to do so herself. Her hair had been her pride, then. Everything else about her body had been frustratingly wrong and limiting but her hair was attention-getting and envied even by healthy people. It was the only thing she regularly got complimented on. She had cherished it as one thing that didn't make her feel less-than. Any suggestion of cutting it short would bring her younger self to tears.
How silly it seemed, now, in the scale of things.
Everyone was long done with their second bowl of ice cream by the time Yuzu had Homura's hair combed perfectly straight. The brunette hummed in scrutiny and clinically said, "You have a lot of breakage down the center."
"I used to wear it parted down the center in two braids," Homura explained.
She could practically feel Yuzu squinting as she tugged hair this way and that. "How long ago? This looks recent."
"Technically, just a few weeks for this body," Homura said carelessly. "Probably at least three dozen timelines, though."
There was a long silence before Karin said, "That will never stop being weird."
Yuzu avoided the subject, switched to a brush to get more airflow between strands and dry the hair more, then said, "Hmmm. How about a single French braid? I can hit it with a hairdryer if it's still too damp when we go to bed."
"Please do not trouble yourself," Homura demurred. "Combing it out took enough effort."
"Awww, but I've never gotten to play with hair this long before," Yuzu argued with a pout.
Homura sighed. "Fine."
Every other Kurosaki grinned at her with blatant entertainment. Homura realized she was submitting to Yuzu's unspoken authority in the household just like they did. Surprisingly, it didn't particularly bother her. She still scowled at them, though, then scowled harder when it was plain that they saw right through her.
They ended up rearranging themselves, Yuzu on the couch with Homura on the floor in front of her, Isshin sitting next to Yuzu on the couch, and Ichigo and Karin serving as bookends on the floor on either side of Homura as they watched a movie. It was a jump-scare thriller, but none of them found it frightening. Yuzu cheerfully hummed through it as she brushed and braided Homura's hair. Homura only vaguely watched the screen, more intent on the other Kurosakis bantering about every stupid thing the characters in the movie did. It was pleasant and... domestic. Isolated from time in a good way, for once. Homura closed her eyes and let it soak in, memorizing every detail she could. Odd and objectively unremarkable as it was, this definitely belonged in her mental treasure trove of Good Memories.
The movie was abandoned near the end when Yuzu brightly announced that she was done. Homura tilted her head around to get a feel for the new style and couldn't decide whether or not she liked all the weight in one place. She reserved judgment.
"It's beautiful," Isshin said warmly. "We should take a picture."
"You could beat someone to death with that braid," Karin declared.
Everyone eyed Karin sideways, but no one could really argue. The braid could pass for a heavy rope thicker than a child's wrist.
The rest of the night passed in a comfortable blur. Homura went to sleep that night without obsessing over the mess in Mitakihara. It was more a series of passing thoughts. Hitsugaya's reassurances about her friends' reception of her behavior rang more plausibly when she was with the Kurosaki family. For the moment, Mitakihara was far and later. Karakura was here and now.
Homura wished Karakura and Mitakihara were one and the same. That everyone she cared about was together. Maybe it would make everything easier. It made for a pleasant dream, anyway.
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A/N: Hmm. This chapter feels short but this is where the natural break is and the next chunk is too big. *shrug*
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.