A/N: I love the observations in your reviews. Quite clever.
§ x § x §
§ x § x §
§ x § x §
SECHSUNDSECHZIG
TIMELINE X + N + 1
Madoka shook out her umbrella on her doorstep before entering her house and putting it in the umbrella stand. She was slipping her shoes off when Mama padded into the front hall in sweats. Madoka blinked her surprise and said, "Oh! You're home early, Mama."
Mama smiled and walked up to her. "I just felt like it," she said breezily as she brushed raindrops off Madoka's shoulders. "Why don't you go hang your uniform up to dry and get into something warm?"
"O... kay," Madoka said slowly, then retreated to her room. She chewed her lip as she changed. This wasn't a common thing for Mama. Not since Tatsuya was around a year old. Worry for her friends made her tuck her phone into the chest pocket of her pajamas.
Dinner was early but pleasant and warm as always; however, tension started knotting in Madoka's gut. She couldn't pin down why until they cleared the table and Papa said, "Sweetheart, have you done your homework?" while Mama put ice in a tumbler and got out a bottle of scotch. They wanted to Have A Talk.
"Yeah. We all went to Hitsugaya's house and worked together," Madoka said slowly as she dried her hands on a dishtowel. Were they going to grill her about why she'd been out late so often? She started considering excuses. She sucked at excuses.
"Good. Sit at the table," Papa said. "Mama and I need to talk to you."
"Oh— okay. What about?"
"Your new friends, some things that have been happening, and some—" Papa glanced at Mama— "family history."
"...What?"
"Let's sit, Madoka," Mama said quietly.
They took their usual places at the table. Madoka fidgeted nervously as Papa gave Tatsuya some toddler-safe toy cars to play with on his high chair and Mama idly played with her tumbler of scotch on the rocks. The sound of the wheels on the tray and the clinking of the ice seemed unnaturally loud to Madoka. She glanced between her parents warily.
Mama took a deep breath. "We wanted to wait a couple more years, but circumstances have forced our hand."
"What?"
Papa sighed softly. "We know that a spiritual threat has targeted you and Sayaka and that your newer friends are fighting against it."
Madoka's brain broke. She stared blankly for a long moment before she could manage, "W-what?"
"We knew something was going on," Mama said with a wry smirk, "but we weren't absolutely certain it was both spiritual and not coincidental until you came home with that bracelet."
"What— what about it?" Madoka stammered as she held her wrist to her chest protectively.
"It has strong protections on it," Papa said plainly. "I know this because I am spiritually aware myself. Not particularly powerful, but aware."
Madoka's brain broke into smaller pieces. "What?"
"We began to think something spiritual was going on when you brought Homura home," Mama said. "Papa could feel how strong she is. Her power is as strong as yours. We thought maybe that drew you to each other unconsciously."
"I'm— I'm as strong as Homura?" Madoka blurted. No way!
Mama and Papa grinned faintly. Papa said, "Definitely."
"O-oh." Madoka didn't have any idea how to process that.
"Your power seems to have matured last month. Since you met Homura, you've been getting a tiny bit stronger."
"You're growing up," Mama said wistfully, then sipped at her scotch.
"Then there's the residual curse that clings to you sometimes," Papa continued. "It reminds me of the cursed spirits I used to run into before we moved here."
The doubly broken pieces of Madoka's brain broke still more. What kind of cursed spirits? Did he mean Witches? Or... Mr. Urahara had said something about another kind what felt like ages ago, but they'd never come back around to the subject. Now it was her parents talking about it? "Why— why didn't you tell me? Um, til now, I mean."
"First, we wanted to wait until you were old enough to know to keep it a secret from most people. Little kids tend to blurt things out and we didn't want you to be... thought of as odd by your peers," Mama answered. "Cursed spirits went looking for you when you were a baby when we lived in Soma. We moved here because there weren't any here. Papa doesn't even see many ghosts here. So we thought you could have a normal life until at least high school, when you'd have more self-control and better judgment of who it was safe to tell and how to do so carefully."
That made sense.
Mama drummed her fingers on the tumbler and continued, "We've been teetering on the fence about whether to tell you these past few weeks, but we wanted you to come to us, if possible. You've asked some generalized advice that gave us clues to what you were doing, so we thought you would open up more soon."
"But, as we said, circumstances have forced our hand," Papa said.
Mama nodded with her eyes closed, then looked at Madoka affectionately. "Madoka, you grew up to be a good girl. You don't lie and you don't do anything bad. You're always trying hard to do what is right. You're already a wonderful child. We didn't want to do to you what our parents did to us. We trust you— that you would have come to us eventually. "
Madoka frowned and glanced back and forth at her parents' unhappy faces. Her grandparents were rarely spoken of. "What did they do?"
"Spiritual awareness runs in my family, to some degree," Papa said. "Not everyone gets it, though. My mother didn't get it and my father didn't bring anything like that to the table when he married into the family. My grandfather on my mother's side was fairly strong and could have taught me a lot, but my parents didn't want me to become involved in anything spiritual. I think they were mostly afraid for my safety. I understand that now that I have you and your brother, but they didn't handle it well. Refused to acknowledge I'd be safer if I actually learned more about my powers— like they thought my not learning would keep things away from me. They tried to keep me away from Grandpa. They knew I still ran into spirits, good and cursed, and obsessed over everything I did. Didn't allow me outside by myself until I forced it when I started middle school, always had to know where I was every minute of the day, demanded I go into excruciating detail to tell them every interaction I had with spirits or oddities. It was so... claustrophobic that I started lying to them. Hiding things from them. It started with spiritual stuff but spread to everything. We got into a cycle of them pressing harder and me expanding my lies until they didn't really know me anymore. I moved out as soon as I could. Tried to learn as much as I could from Grandpa before he died. That got through to my parents after a couple years, but we were never able to completely repair the damage. We came close when Mama and I got married—"
"I was so wonderfully normal to them," Mama cooed with obviously faked nostalgia.
"—But we got into arguments over my choices for you regarding your powers when you were a baby and we stalled."
So that was why Madoka mostly knew her paternal grandparents through birthday presents and holiday cards.
"My parents smothered me for different reasons," Mama said as she played with the ice in her tumbler. "We were well-off. They controlled every minute of my life. I had no say in anything. Schedule was very similar to your friend Hitomi's, but possibly worse since I was much younger than her when my parents started pushing me. No downtime to myself, no room to breathe. I snapped when I was around your age and began a glorious rebellion. Refused lessons, ran away repeatedly, drinking, smoking, was even in a gang at one point." She looked at Madoka sideways with a sharply wry grin. "It's probably a good thing they disowned me and said I'd never amount to anything. I rebelled against that by becoming the top student in school even though I hated it, then throwing every advancement in their faces. And here I am today," she said with an expansive gesture and satisfied smirk, "a happily married woman with two wonderful children, angling to be CEO of a multinational corporation. I'm pretty much living the dream." Her face went dark as she poured herself more scotch. "And there they are, old and lonely because they were too stubborn to admit any wrongdoing. I broke contact with them when they refused to come to my graduation. Your uncle tries to start peace talks every few years, but they never go anywhere." Mama took a slow sip of her scotch, breathed deeply, and locked eyes with Madoka. "We absolutely do not want to drive you away by smothering you. You are your own person and we respect that. We're closer to you than our parents were with us because we've left you enough wiggle room that coming to us is an attractive option instead of an obligation. But we've come to the point where not taking the initiative to get involved would be irresponsible of us."
Madoka gulped, mind racing. "I— I understand," she said softly.
Her parents traded quiet glances for a minute, then Papa took a deep breath and said, "I went to High Spirits when you were at school yesterday."
Oh no.
"Mr. Urahara told me some things about the... Incubator. But I got the distinct impression he was holding back."
Ohhh no.
Why hadn't anyone at the shop mentioned this? Wait— did Homura know about this?
Madoka stayed silent, lips pressed tightly together as she glanced from parent to parent and thought about loyalties. She didn't want to come anywhere close to betraying Homura's confidence. But... these were her parents.
Papa paused, plainly reading her expressions. She was terrible at keeping guilt off her face. He came to some kind of decision and firmly said, "I want to help. So does your mother."
"We need to know everything," Mama said just as firmly. "We can pry it out of that guy, but we'd rather get it from you."
Ohhhhh no.
And yet... she really, really wanted her parents on their side. She didn't want to hide things anymore. If they really had spoken to Mr. Urahara, there was no point denying anything. It was probably good they weren't demanding she never hang out with Homura ever again. Depending on how much they knew, anyway. If she told them more, would they try to force them apart? She couldn't allow that. She would not do that to Homura, who so obviously needed friends.
A vague flash of a dream: Brave girl jumping from the building flying up at the—
A sharp breath—
Brave girl falling falling falling out of the sky in the distance reaching for Madoka hoarsely screaming screaming screaming desperation as red eyes pink light—
"What are you afraid of?" Mama asked.
Madoka startled and looked at her, mouth working speechlessly before blurting, "I— I don't want you to— to keep me from helping Homura. She's... so sad and lonely and even if things are scary I want to help her because it's not fair she's been alone a lot and she saved me and um. Um." Babbling. Could not stop babbling. "She's trying to— to save lots of people, and I can't do a lot— I promised her I wouldn't do a lot 'cause she wants me to be safe, but I can— I can be her friend. So when what she's doing is hard on her, she can come to me and... talk, or something. You know." Her face was so hot she was certain she must be bright red.
Mama's face softened with affection. "I'm so proud of you."
Mind screeching to a halt, Madoka stammered, "W-what?"
"Here we are confronting you, and your primary concern is supporting your friend who is dealing with hardship." Mama smiled. "My kindhearted little girl."
Madoka's face went redder and she bashfully mumbled something. Even she didn't know what.
"Will you tell us?" Papa asked gently.
Hesitation made Madoka stall with, "It's— it's complicated, and— and it's hard to believe—"
"Silly," Mama said warmly, reaching over to tap Madoka's nose and make her squeak. "You wouldn't make up anything outlandish. Not now that you know we believe in spirits and special powers and whatnot."
Their faith in her warmed her heart. Madoka took several deep breaths while staring down at her hands knotted together in her lap, then looked up at Papa. "What... do you already know?"
Papa looked at her thoughtfully, probably decided not to call her out for stalling and getting the lay of the land she had to work with, and calmly repeated everything he had been told. She was glad to see that he and Mama were angry at the Incubator, but panicked over Mr. Urahara having not said anything about magical girls. That was, like... the least believable part.
What was she supposed to do? No one at the shop had told her not to tell them...
Would Homura be mad if she told?
"We know you're probably running into some kind of cursed spirit and that you and your friends have enough power to fight them," Papa said slowly. "Your great-grandfather was able to fight weak ones. We know you can't help but attract them and that denying it and asking you to just avoid them is pointless. Could be worse than facing it head-on."
"We know you're in danger— that your friends are in danger," Mama said seriously. "We know whatever is going on is very important. If there is a way to help, we want to do it. If all we can do is support all of you, we want to do that. But we need to know what we're all involved in."
"We?" Madoka whispered.
"We," both her parents affirmed.
"We!" Tatsuya shouted. When they all looked at him, he proudly shoved the front end of a big plastic car in his smiling mouth and drooled. His contribution broke the tension and made them all smile.
Papa turned to Madoka with a little grin. "Besides, I already promised to watch out for Homura and your friend Mami in exchange for wards on our house and protective charms for Tatsuya, Mama, and me."
That was... unexpected. "Oh."
A warm hand took hers. She turned and looked at Mama, who earnestly said, "We trust you. Please trust us."
Madoka drew a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and began to talk. She told them everything. All that Homura had told her, all she had experienced. It soon became obvious that she had never seen her parents truly enraged before. Then she got to the night of the carousel labyrinth and broke down sobbing before she could continue past the point where she jumped in the portal herself. She didn't hear anything her parents said to each other, but Mama held her and guided her to the master bedroom while Papa put Tatsuya to bed. The three of them cuddled together on her parents' bed as Madoka choked out the events of that horrible night and the morning after. Madoka could feel Mama's tears on the crown of her head and that Papa was trembling.
"D-don't get ma-ad at Ho-omura," Madoka begged between rough breaths. "I— I ran in the labyrinth myse-self. She sa-aved us and almost— almost d-died. And— and her fruh-friends healed us and got us protections and—"
"We understand," Mama croaked, then kissed her hair while Papa squeezed her hand. "We understand, baby."
"What happ—" Papa's voice broke; he cleared his throat and tried again. "What happened after that? Mama said she met Mami, so something..."
Madoka collected herself for a bit, then relayed the rest of the week, Mami's panicked awakening, and Homura's breakdown and flight. "And she— she came back today, and she's doing a lot better. But she and Mami and Hitsugaya went off to fight a Witch when we left the shop, s-so... I don't know. B-but Mr. Tsukabishi said they'd call us when they're done."
Mama took several deep breaths then roughly said, "Those. Poor. Girls."
"Mr. Urahara said they're trying to figure out what this Incubator is and how to stop it. Right?" Papa rasped.
Madoka nodded and could only hum agreement.
"Whatever he needs," Mama said in a guttural snarl. "Whatever they need. Anything. Anything." Her voice kept rising hatefully. "If not for Homura and the others warning you, protecting you, you could have— that demon— you could have—" Madoka felt her mother's nails bite into her skin as the woman squeezed her possessively.
"Whatever we can do, we'll do it," Papa said in a growl Madoka had never thought him capable of. "Anything to stop this— this monster."
"You're— you're really not mad at them?" Madoka squeaked. "For— for getting me involved?"
"No," Mama said. "Absolutely not. And I'm so proud of you." She sat back and turned Madoka's head to face her. Mama looked fierce. "So. Proud. Of you."
"Eh-eh?"
Papa squeezed her shoulders. "Like Mama said earlier: You're always trying hard to do what is right. Even when it's hard." He smiled despite the tear tracks on his face. "It sounds like you and Sayaka are just the kind of friends those girls need. You're priceless and you're our baby girl."
"Young woman," Mama said warmly, brushing Madoka's hair away from her face. "Now—"
The instrumental of the chorus of Let It Go rang out from Madoka's pocket. Gasping, Madoka scrambled to retrieve her phone. The ringtone was interrupted by it starting again— texts were coming in quick succession.
"What is it?" Papa asked as she tapped out her password.
"Hitsugaya," Madoka explained breathlessly. She paused, then let her parents read with her.
- Safely returned from errand.
- Momoe very upset. We stopped by Tomoe's apartment to talk.
- All told Momoe she should not do such errands anymore as we think she is too young. She argued then left, crying. I followed her at a distance to make sure she got home safely.
- Yoruichi ran off a white cat that had gotten into Momoe's apartment.
Madoka inhaled sharply and felt her parents tense as they waited for more messages. The Incubator had approached Nagisa. The pause between messages made Madoka anxious.
- Momoe safe with father and Yoruichi for now.
- Tomoe says she and Akemi had an upsetting conversation when I was away. Both looked like they had been crying. Something about feeling guilty about guiding Momoe through the errand in the first place.
- When I got back, Akemi refused to come to the shop with us. Insisted on going to her house to "think by herself."
- We are all worried about her state of mind. She refuses our calls and does not answer our texts.
- As we have said, she actually listens to you when she is upset. Would you mind checking in on her periodically through the night?
Madoka swallowed hard and looked up at her parents, whose faces were grim. They glanced at each other then down to Madoka.
"Whatever you need to do," Mama said. "You can even go to her if you want."
"Ask him if he knows when she ate last," Papa said. "If you can't convince her to come here on the phone, I'll send food with you."
After a moment of hesitation, she texted Hitsugaya. His reply made Madoka gulp.
- What did you tell your parents? We don't want you to get in trouble and I don't know if Akemi is in a state to play along.
Fingers shaking, Madoka tapped out, - Everything.
There was another pause that went on so long that it made Madoka sweat nervously. Would he be angry?
- Everything everything?
- Everything everything, she replied. She bit her lip and added, - And they told me a lot of things. Did you know my papa went to the shop yesterday?
- Yes. My uncle told me. I apologize for not bringing it up. I was distracted.
- We will be warding your house tomorrow evening.
Madoka glanced up at Papa, who nodded. Mama murmured, "I'm taking all of tomorrow off work to be ready."
- How did your parents take everything everything? Did they believe you? Are they angry?
Madoka's face firmed in determination. - They believe me and aren't angry at us and want to help any way they can.
Mama stroked her hair and kissed her temple.
- That's a relief.
- Do you think Homura will be mad at me? Madoka asked.
- Possibly. But it probably won't last long. Just stubborn yourself through anything she says. You know how she is.
- She resisted telling Yumi and Kikyo's father at first but came around pretty quickly when he was understanding. Just tell your parents not to push her too much with questions right now. We can talk more as a group tomorrow.
"That's fine," Papa said.
- Also, Tessai says since lunch she's only eaten whatever snacks we had this afternoon. If you can get her to eat, that would be good.
Papa kissed Madoka's cheek and declared, "I'll start cooking right now." He stood and strode out of the room with purpose.
- I'll try right now, Madoka texted. Taking a deep breath, she opened her conversation with Homura and tapped out, – Hi, Homura. I'm glad you're safe. Do you want to talk?
Madoka sat quietly and waited what seemed like forever for a reply, her mother a reassuring presence beside her.
- No, Homura eventually replied.
- I'm worried, Madoka said.
- You needn't be, Homura replied.
- I still am, Madoka said stubbornly. - Come stay at my house tonight.
- I am fine.
- No you aren't.
No reply.
- I want to help. I promised I wouldn't do the dangerous things, but I want to be there for you.
No reply.
- If you won't come here, then I'm coming over to your place, Madoka texted with a stubborn pout.
No reply.
Madoka huffed in exasperation and Mama shook her head with a sigh. The phone trilled. Hitsugaya.
- Any luck? he asked.
- She answered at first but stopped. I'm going to go to her soon.
After a minute, he replied, - Good. I'll text you if I sense her move. If she runs I'll just have to track her down and haul her to the shop. Wallowing could be dangerous for her, as you know.
Madoka swallowed hard. Right. She looked up at Mama and said, "I'm going to get dressed, okay?"
Mama smiled sadly and said, "Take care of her. Bring her home if you can. Don't worry about how late it is if you can get her here at all and don't worry about going to school tomorrow if you can't coax her into coming here. This is one of those things more important than a day of school. We'll cover for you."
Madoka's eyes teared up all over again and she threw herself at her mother. "I love you so much, Mama!"
Mama's hug was so tight it left her breathless, but hers probably was as well.
§ x § x §
An hour later, Madoka splashed through puddles up to Homura's doorstep with a backpack full of food, an overnight bag, and a folded umbrella. There were lights on inside, at least— she had half expected it to be dark. Ringing the bell got no response. She tried again a few times, then took a deep breath and started endlessly knocking on the door with the handle of the umbrella. If Homura wanted to do stubborn, she could do stubborn, too.
Ten minutes of relentless knocking later, Madoka heard the deadbolt and door chain rattle. She lowered her arm as the door opened. Homura stood silhouetted in the doorway, face in that all-too-common expression of blank detachment, and didn't say a word of greeting.
"I brought you food," Madoka said with a fierce pout, daring her to argue.
"I have food here," Homura said.
"Have you actually eaten any of it since you got home?"
Homura just stared.
Madoka scowled. "Let me in. Please."
Their staring contest was a challenge for Madoka, but Homura eventually looked away and took a step back to let her enter. Madoka slipped off her shoes and decided to wait to talk until after she had gotten some food in Homura, who passively watched her. At least she was dry and in warm pajamas. Madoka stepped around the doorjamb into the living room and jumped back with a shriek.
Guns.
Guns everywhere.
Many different kinds of guns. Big guns, little guns, simple guns, fancy guns, everything in between. Boxes and boxes and boxes of bullets and things that looked bigger and more frightening than bullets.
"What— what's this?!" she shrilled.
"Munitions," Homura said blandly.
"But what are they doing on the floor?!"
"I am loading my new supply."
"New supply?"
"I stole more from the yakuza and JSDF in... Tokyo when everyone else was asleep."
Madoka whipped her head to her friend, panicked. "You stole from the yakuza and JSDF?!"
Homura shrugged disinterestedly. "Because of my magic, they have no way to know it was me. Even if they did, I am not worried about humans coming after me." She looked at Madoka's face, which must have been horrified. "Do not worry. No one has ever traced the thefts to me."
"Ever?"
"Ever."
"What do you mean, ever?"
"I have been taking their weapons for several years."
Madoka could only stare, mouth hanging open in shock.
Homura tilted her head to one side and asked, "Are you afraid?"
She shook herself and mulishly said, "No." They had another staring contest. Madoka finally said, "I'm going to reheat this in the kitchen."
"Suit yourself," Homura murmured. She drifted over to a row of handguns, knelt, and mechanically started loading one.
Madoka watched her for a minute before marching into the kitchen and taking it over. Given the opportunity, she checked all the cupboards and fridge. There was a decent amount of dry goods, but practically nothing in the fridge. Cookware looked unused and the packaging for the food Papa had sent her before was clean and neatly stacked on the counter. Madoka wondered if this was why the friend Hitsugaya had mentioned always buried the girl in homemade food and mailed her baked goods.
She was sooo telling Papa about this.
As soon as she had the food reheated and plated on the table, Madoka went back to the living room. She opened her mouth to speak but bit her tongue and waited until Homura put the gun she was loading into her shield before saying, "Dinner is ready. Please come eat."
Homura blinked up at her owlishly, but complied. They sat and ate together in silence for a time. It became progressively more awkward as minutes dragged by.
"So, um. You... um, you were doing much better this afternoon," Madoka finally started. "What happened... after? I mean, um, to upset you?"
Homura watched her silently as she chewed, eyes boring into Madoka. "Did Hitsugaya send you?"
"Not— not really," Madoka stammered. "He said the labyrinth was easy but something happened after and you were upset and asked me to check in on you by phone but I decided to come be with you instead." Babbling. Ugh. Nerves.
"Why?"
"Because I care about you and you being sad makes me sad."
Homura canted her head to one side and stared at her more.
Madoka tried to keep her face firmly earnest but she kept faltering under Homura's scrutiny. She wondered what her friend was thinking about so deeply. "I know— I know they said you said you wanted to think alone but I was worried and they were worried and I didn't like the thought of you being sad by yourself so I, um, I..." She looked down at the table and trailed off into insecure mumbling.
"I will be fine," Homura eventually said with a sigh. "I was merely reminded of something. Someone." She paused, then hesitantly continued, "My... original team. It made me see some things in a... new light, I suppose."
Madoka looked up shyly. "Would you... tell me?" She fidgeted with her fingers. "You know— just to get it out?"
Another painfully long silence as Homura stared at her with a frown. Just when Madoka decided she wouldn't be getting an answer, Homura quietly said, "I have never had to guide such a young magical girl before. Never had one actually look up to me like that." She looked down and pushed her food around her plate. "I... think I understand the leader of my first team better now. Why she snapped like she did."
Madoka watched in silence as Homura internally debated continuing. When Madoka realized she was staring, she averted her eyes and ate more of her second dinner to try to encourage Homura to eat. Her friend seemed to automatically copy her. After another couple minutes of silence weighing whether to probe that wound, Madoka softly prompted, "Can you explain? If— only if you want, I mean."
Homura's mouth tightened at one side as though chewing her cheek. "I think... I have always worked with older magical girls, often those who do not trust me or like me. I did not act as any kind of mentor. It was... easier to tell myself their mistakes were their own responsibility. That their difficulty adjusting was weakness. But... Momoe..." She trailed off with a frown. Madoka waited her out for a couple minutes as Homura wrestled with thoughts and words. "I felt... responsible for teaching her. I pushed her hard when she was obviously afraid and vulnerable to the Witch's sympathy trap. I wanted to break her of that for her future safety, but I..." She pursed her lips and considered her words. "Momoe insists she wants to keep trying to push past it, but I... it had not struck me how difficult it is to teach that to someone, especially someone younger than me. It feels... cruel." Closing her eyes, Homura heavily continued, "The leader of my original team... she was older than us and taught that to all of us. One by one, she helped push us through so we could survive in battle. I realize now that she probably hated doing it. But she also balanced that with optimism, teamwork, friendship, and encouragement to embrace our wishes and the rewarding feeling of protecting people. Actively helped some girls formulate their wishes. We all looked up to her. So when she discovered we would eventually turn into Witches, and that she had encouraged us down that path and broken that part of us for worse than nothing..."
After another solemn silence, Madoka hazarded a guess. "You... think she felt like it was her fault? And that she wanted to save you all from— from turning into—?"
"Yes," Homura whispered, eyes still shut. "I always told myself it was because she was weak, but... perhaps it was something different. And perhaps I am not very different from her after all." She opened her eyes and looked up at Madoka. "I apologize for worrying... everyone. I just... needed to straighten everything out in my head without distraction."
Madoka stayed respectfully quiet for a minute, then stood and walked over to Homura's side of the table to bend down and embrace her shoulders. "Thank you for telling me. I understand why you wanted to think through it. It must be very hard."
Homura didn't react to the hug, but quietly said, "I wish I could talk to her."
"What was she like?" Madoka asked, smoothing Homura's hair like Mama did to her when she was sad.
The magical girl's voice was heavy and weary when she eventually whispered, "Very much like Mami Tomoe."
"Oh." Madoka thought for a minute, then said, "No wonder you were afraid of how Mami would react when she woke up. And why you're so... careful about how to teach her about Witches."
Homura pulled away and looked at Madoka's face searchingly. "You do not think I am being overly cautious?"
"Knowing this? Not at all," Madoka replied with a gentle smile.
"I see."
Madoka watched her thoughtfully for a minute then said, "Would you like to go to my house?"
"I need to finish with my weapons."
"After that? Mama and Papa are worried about you."
Homura frowned up at her. "Why?"
"Uh." Whoops. "W-well... um..."
Her friend's eyes narrowed. "What did you tell them?"
Madoka awkwardly blurted out everything and cringed at the various facial expressions Homura made. Madoka felt awkward awkward guilty awkward.
When she was done, Homura huffed and looked aside with her arms crossed. "I hate when Urahara is right."
That made Madoka draw up short. "Wh-what?"
"He told me about your father's visit before I went to meet you after school. I was angry he told so much—" Madoka cringed— "and he said to expect your father to tell your mother everything. I didn't expect them to learn everything else. Some, but not all."
Madoka wanted to crawl under a rock and die of shame. "'Msorry," she mumbled meekly.
Homura sighed deeply. "I will get over it." She looked up at Madoka cautiously. "How... did they react? They believed you?"
Drawing up in pride, Madoka passionately said, "They believe me. They're angry at the Incubator and want to help fight it and feel bad for you and the other girls and want to help you all and they're not angry at you for talking to me about everything because you kept me from selling my soul and, um... ummmmm... yeah."
"That is... good," Homura sighed with relief.
"Yeah." Madoka shifted awkwardly and said, "So you wanna go to my house after you finish your things?"
Homura pursed her lips and looked down at her plate. "Not... really."
"Okay. I'll stay here with you, then," Madoka said with forced bravado, hoping Homura wouldn't argue. "Mama and Papa said I could and that I don't even have to go to school tomorrow if you need me."
The girl did look up at her and arch an eyebrow, but her lips curved into the slightest of smiles. Yes!
After washing dishes together, they went into the makeshift armory that was Homura's living room. Madoka carefully perched on a couch and watched Homura's methodical work. Interestingly, her friend's face gradually relaxed.
Madoka waited until the magical girl was between weapons to comment, "You're really good at that. I mean, I don't know guns or whatever, but you go so... smoothly."
Homura tilted her head to glance at her. "I have a great deal of practice. It is... almost like autopilot, these days." She looked back down to the guns and brushed her fingers over the next one in her assembly line. "Maintaining weapons is... calming."
"Really?"
"Yes." Homura didn't look back at her, but continued talking calmly while opening boxes of ammunition. "I... think it is the repetitive nature of the task. And its simplicity. I do a lot of thinking when maintaining weapons."
"Ummm... good?" Madoka said uncertainly. She was glad Homura had something like that, but was conflicted about what that thing was.
Homura must have understood perfectly because she briefly turned to give her a tiny, amused smile. Amused. Smile. Wow. It surprised a nervous giggle out of Madoka as Homura faced the guns again and picked one up.
"Do— do you want me to shut up?" Madoka whispered.
Her friend was silent for a moment, then answered, "No. As long as you don't make sudden loud exclamations as Sayaka tends to do. I... like listening to you. Your voice is also... soothing."
Madoka's face burned and she mumbled a denial.
"So," Homura said airily, "your conversation with your parents."
"Y-yeah?".
"How are you handling what they told you?"
The question came as a complete surprise. "Ummmmmm." Madoka tapped a finger on her lips and looked at the ceiling. Quiet clinks and clicks sounded out from across the room as she thought. "I understand why they didn't tell me. And I'm okay with it." She looked down at Homura again to watch her industriously handling guns. Talk. Something to talk about. Well, she had told Homura's secrets, so maybe... "I found out why I don't really know my grandparents. On— on Papa's side, there was weird... spirit-drama. And on Mama's side there was... drama-drama."
"Oh?" Homura said with cool interest.
"Wanna... wanna hear about it?" Madoka asked.
"Do tell," Homura murmured.
They settled into a routine, the metallic clinking of bullets and clicking of magazines filling in the spaces between Madoka's quiet words until well past midnight.
§ x § x §
Kisuke had long since decided that one of the hardest tasks in science was figuring out what questions to ask— which most needed to be asked and would garner the most relevant and useful answers. He needed to understand Soul Gems, Grief Seeds, and whatever the pseudo-Grief Seeds were, but which perspective would be the most informative and relevant? When he had been researching everything involved in Aizen's plots, the subjects were often already narrow enough and within his existing areas of most intense interest that much of it had been intuitive. This mess with magical girls was entirely different. Trial and error showed strong ties to his existing interests in Mod Souls, gigai, and kidō, but the physical makeup of the objects of power screamed to him of significance. The gemstones-and-metal theme seemed constant across objects. Were they really made of a spiritual equivalent of gold and silver, silicate and oxide and sulfate and phosphate minerals? Was it simpler? More complex? Would exploring that facet— Kisuke could feel Benihime roll her eyes in the middle of spinning thread— be useful or pointless? He didn't have time for wild goose-chases, but understanding every grain of information available was what had led to foiling Aizen's plans. Better to know than not.
Earth sciences had always been an idle curiosity for him but not something he had ever needed to delve into very deeply, so he wanted to build a new foundation with as few assumptions as possible. Between his more urgent projects and attendant research, Kisuke had been feverishly buffing up on modern gemology, mineralogy, petrology, metallurgy, and some basics of jewelry creation combining gems and precious metals. Once he had a more stable foundation, he could branch out into more experiments.
Kisuke's second hardest task in science was often determining whether he had the appropriate equipment to run the tests that would answer the best questions. Then there was the weighing of the merits of destructive and non-destructive testing. Kisuke would prefer to avoid damaging the Soul Gems, as he was certain Kurotsuchi would be doing such tests himself. In fact, he would bet good money the man was already trying to figure out how to subject the samples to laser-induced breakdown spectroscopy and create thin sections to examine by petrographic microscope without completely destroying the Gems in the process. Any scientist would have to crack a few eggs to make an omelet—
Really, Kisuke? Benihime drawled.
—so the failures would be an acceptable loss, but he preferred the losses to be on Kurotsuchi's side of things.
Perhaps Kisuke would fiddle with trying to get the gold settings off one Soul Gem and whine to Kurotsuchi about a failure if doing so compromised the integrity of the jewel itself. That would prompt Kurotsuchi to attempt to one-up him. That was the one test he could think of that could be closest to a fifty-fifty chance for a positive, non-destructive result. If it was destructive... well, Kurotsuchi could have his fun trying to make it non-destructive, Kisuke could get his information, and the poor girls' souls would be intact and none the wiser once time was rewound.
So: Non-destructive testing. Looking at the three Soul Gems available to him in Karakura with a gemological spectroscope, refractometer, and dichroscope had been interesting but inconclusive enough that Kisuke wanted to design new, specialized versions of the tools. Now he had boxes of various styles of each tool to take apart and shuffle around and recreate using more spiritually-inclined materials. Hachi had notified him that another shipment of gemological equipment had been delivered to Urahara Shop and was waiting to be fiddled with. Now that the drones were finished and maintenance had been passed to Tessai, Kisuke had time to work. Play. Work.
He was sprawled out on the floor among technical manuals and mechanical schema when the communication system buzzed and Tessai hazarded, "Boss, you at a stopping point?"
Kisuke blinked in disorientation as he came out of academic trance and frowned at the speaker across the room. "I can be."
"Can you come to the monitoring station?"
"Sure. Who's watching Miss Tomoe?"
"No one." The dryness of Tessai's voice made Kisuke picture his face as exasperated but unsurprised. "Tomoe and Hitsugaya have been asleep for hours."
"What time is it?" Kisuke asked as he shambled to his feet.
"Three."
Kisuke stared at the speaker for a long minute and could only say, "Oh." He cracked his neck with a wince. "A.M., I hope?"
"Yes."
"Don't judge me, Tessai."
"Of course not."
"Liar."
"Come here."
So Kisuke wound through the halls and entered the surveillance room and its bank of softly glowing screens. He glanced at the monitors for the shop out of habit— no one wandering the halls or in the rigged rooms. All dark. Good. He looked at Tessai. "How's the pigeon network going?"
Tessai grunted and tapped around a keyboard. "We need to tweak and streamline the incident flagging and notification priority settings. Something interesting happened but it didn't escalate to notification of an ongoing incident or even throw a notification after the fact. I found it digging in the queue."
Kisuke grimaced. "Ugh, I hate being in beta."
Tessai glanced back over his shoulder and raised a brow. "No, you don't."
"I hate beta testing with limited time," Kisuke elaborated. He scratched his unshaven chin and muttered, "We need to expand stationary sensor deployment farther into Asunaro and Kazamino now that Sōju isn't tripping us up. Have redundant data streams to prevent this kind of failure. Maybe have more pigeons carry and deposit them...?"
"That reminds me." Turning back to the screens, Tessai pointed at a cluster of five off to the right and said, "Before I forget, I commanded five pigeons to get around the part of Kazamino where the Michaels girl was found dead this time last time."
A smile ghosted across Kisuke's face. He was always happy when Tessai anticipated something he wanted to do but hadn't said because he'd been whisked away by other thoughts. "The article said the body was in the church, yes?"
"Correct. I have one of the birds reprogrammed to behave as though its wing is injured to excuse it hiding in the roof. I looked up the blueprints with the city and compared it to the crime scene photos from the case files we hacked last time. I can get the drone through the eaves and ceiling space to see the nave. It'll be in place around sundown to monitor the inside all day Thursday."
"Excellent." Kisuke paused. "What is today?"
"The wee hours of Wednesday," Tessai said drily, glancing at him sideways.
"Right." Kisuke pouted and added, "What did I say about judging me?"
"Please sleep after this."
"Meh."
Tessai rolled his eyes. "All right. So the thing I found." Tessai tapped and clicked around and called up a video to the large central screen. "Hitsugaya said Tomoe called the girls in Asunaro the Pleiades Saints, right? And said there were seven, but Kazusa's death should have knocked them down to six?"
"Yes." Kisuke tilted his head curiously. "Should have?"
"A drone caught a seven-girl team fighting a monster a few hours ago."
"Really?" Kisuke said, intrigued. "Perhaps they recruited another girl?"
"I don't know. But there's some... odd things. Several anomalies. Watch it first."
Tessai clicked play and the video showed three magical girls lead a many-legged, fluffy blue centipede monster the size of a semi truck into an empty lot, where four more girls promptly dropped in behind it to box it in. The battle was a fascinating demonstration of teamwork with diverse weapons and abilities. The monster's limbs were mismatched in the extreme, human, animal, and insect, at various sizes. The limbs were smaller and more human-like near its "head," which had mothlike antennae and big compound eyes above a human mouth open in a silent scream. Six of the girls went airborne with handheld weapons and wands brandished, shouted something, and brilliant lines of light lanced from point to point among them to form a hexagon made of many triangles and other symbols too blurry to make out on video. The six girls dove down and away from the monster; their spell expanded as they went, creating a rainbow net to hold the monster down. The seventh girl perched on a nearby roof, held up a polearm that looked like a large wrought-iron cross, shouted, and generated an intense beam of purple-to-black energy which lanced out at the monster and incinerated it. When the light faded, a girl in orange and white darted forward to catch a woman who was falling from the monster's blackened, disintegrating husk. The magical girls converged on the pair and had a quiet conversation as one of them picked something small up off the ground and looked at it, then handed it to her teammate in a teal paratrooper-like costume. Paratrooper-girl immediately put the item in some kind of containment jar. Four departed by rooftop, leaving the girl with short orange hair with two girls— one with long indigo hair and one with short black hair. They dismissed their costumes, roused the unconscious woman, and seemed to put on a decent ruse of having found her while walking by. They helped her get her bearings before leaving on foot.
Kisuke stared at the screen for a long minute after Tessai paused it. After some thought, Kisuke said, "I have several questions."
Tessai nodded curtly and picked up a clipboard he had scribbled on. "No labyrinth. A human fell out of the apparent Witch similar to how Hitsugaya described Miki being freed from the mermaid transformation. Various techniques and their similarities to kidō. The intricate combination of powers." He looked up at Kisuke seriously. "And then the oddities with their identities."
Eyebrows raised, Kisuke prompted, "Oh? Do they match the girls described in the final info-dump from Twelfth in the last timeline? From Abarai's report?"
"Yes and no," Tessai said with a sigh as he brought up two school ID pictures— the girls with orange hair and indigo hair, respectively. "Kaoru Maki," he said as he pointed to the orange-haired girl, and "Umika Misaki," he said as he pointed to the indigo-haired girl. "Abarai's report mentioned a Kazumi Subaru, but there appears to be no such person in Asunaro or surrounding cities."
Kisuke blinked slowly and turned to Tessai. "Pardon?"
"She doesn't seem to exist. No school records, birth records, hospital records, residential records, nothing. Abarai's report said she lived with the other two. Those two do have the same address, but no one else is registered as living there aside from Misaki's parents, who are overseas."
"Where are they? And Maki's, too."
"Going by financial records, Misaki's are in the U.S. and Maki's are in Hong Kong."
Kisuke tapped his fan on his arm and pursed his lips. "I am noticing a trend of girls with absent families being targeted to contract. Not exclusively, but frequently enough to be a thing."
Tessai rumbled dark agreement and moved on. "None of the costumes on these seven girls match the brief descriptions in Abarai's report. Not even Maki and Misaki. Misaki's is close, but Abarai's report mentions a beret with a bow and a short cape, not a nun-like veil and knee-length cape."
"...What?"
Tessai held his hands up in an expression of confusion. "No idea. And I don't see anyone with, I quote, ridiculously long black hair and a poofy white dress shaped like a bell or jellyfish."
Kisuke stared at the screen more. "This situation just gets stranger and stranger." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "We'll have to ask Miss Tomoe what she knows about the Pleiades Saints. Descriptions and such." Then he smiled fondly. "Whichever of them came up with the Pleiades Saints and Star Cluster pun* for a group of seven magical girls is a nerd after my own heart."
Tessai barked out a surprised laugh and said, "Yes. Yes, she is."
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as he thought, Kisuke clapped a hand on Tessai's shoulder and said, "Good work. Keep looking into that tomorrow. For now, get some rest. We have warding in the afternoon."
"I presume you will be retiring for the... morning, too, then?" Tessai said archly.
Kisuke turned away without answering and shuffled through the doorway, whistling innocently.
"GO TO BED, BOSS!" Tessai shouted out the door.
§ x § x §
§ x § x §
§ x § x §
A/N: clank clank clank
It's been implied in bonus materials that Junko hated school and was probably a delinquent. Considering her businesswoman result, I have this mental image of young Junko being in the same gang as Tohru Honda's mom Kyoko in Fruits Basket. I kinda picture Junko telling Madoka stories about ~The Red Butterfly~ lol.
* Regarding Kisuke admiring the Pleiades Saints' name being a pun:
プレイアデス聖団 Pureiadesu Seidan, literally: Pleiades Holy/Saint Party/Group
プレイアデス星団 Pureiadesu Seidan, Pleiades Star Cluster
One kanji difference, same pronunciation. Pleiades is a constellation containing seven stars representing seven sisters. The girl who came up with the name is also the character who came up with the attack names for the group's members, and those are often puns/media jokes, too. The joint attack mentioned is Episodio Incrocio ("Crossover Episode") if you want to look up a pic. My darling nerd.
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.
