Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Is everyone okay?”

It felt silly asking something like this after everything that happened, but it was all she could manage after watching it… after just watching them.

Strangely, she felt her shoulders relaxing, as if the weight of the world suddenly left.

It felt wrong.

“I’m fine.” It was a strangely small and quiet answer, as if Mami herself didn’t believe in them. Not only because her pristine golden locks were now covered in a mixture of blood and ash and she was using one of her muskets as a makeshift cane, but for something else. Something that the oldest of them didn’t seem to know either.

“We… We are ok?” Sayaka’s answer was more of a question, her hand still shaking as it struggled to hold her broken and bloodied saber. Her left leg was still bent in a weird angle, she visibly struggled to stand but managed, not solely due to herself.

“Y-yeah, all fine and dandy! It’s finally over.” Kyoko’s normally brazen and decisive words had a strange cadence to them. It was relief but at the same time, disbelief, her eyes still wide as she stared upward. Eye, because it was hard to tell if her bloodied right eye was still functional or not as it was hard to see if her right leg was really hurt or not as she struggled to stand.

It was difficult to say if Sayaka was the one helping Kyoko stand up, if Kyoko was the one helping Sayaka stand, both or neither.

“...Over.” It was normally inexpressive, alien, but as it came into view, slowly walking until it stood beside her, its big red eyes staring fixedly upwards, Kyubey sounded shocked. It was the only thing still pristine and intact, but of them, it sounded the most shaken as its eyes slowly drifted downwards, following the burning witch.

The skies were stained red and orange, both from the flames of the destruction of Mitakihara and from the burning of its destroyer.

The Stagecraft Witch was falling, burning, its form slowly descending as it turned into ash. It didn’t scream, it didn’t moan, it didn’t lament, it stood silent as it approached the Earth in a fiery death.

Its demise shook the ground, columns of flames, ash and smoke rising as the most powerful witch in history died.

Walpurgisnacht was over. They won.

“...”

She was some meters in front of them, her back turned to them, her long, beautiful black hair swirling due to the shockwave. Of them all, she was both the least hurt and the most exhausted, her entire form trembling after the long and hard fight, her last gun, a simple pistol, almost slipping away from her fingers.

“Homura-chan?” She called to the girl of her dreams, to the mysterious black haired transfer student, to her friend, to her savior, to the reason why this happened.

“...”

She approached her slowly, her steps being small, short and wobbly. The strange lack of weight on her shoulder was almost suffocating.

“Homura-chan, how are you?”

Her expression was undecipherable, her purple eyes still fixated on the spot the witch occupied before its demise, her shield was still open, its red reservoirs lazily spinning around the center.

It took a long moment for Homura to stare at her. Her eyes seemed unfocused.

“Madoka.”

It was strangely hard, but it came naturally to smile at hearing it.

“We won… you won, Homura-chan!”

…

Homura blinked. Her eyes didn’t focus.

“I still can't believe it worked! It was nuts!” The brazen redhead was the first one to exclaim as she and Sayaka approached them, both wobbling together as Mami slowly limped with them.

“I have to concede, transfer student, good plan.” The blue haired justicier says, still in disbelief.

“Very bold, but it ended up working out.” The blonde caretaker admits, her smile quaint but truthful.

Homura blinked once, twice, thrice, she slowly turned around, her unfocused eyes trying and failing to focus on the approaching girls. They slowly began to focus as the purple orbs finally found the pink orbs.

“What was your wish?”

…

Madoka Kaname blinks, her smile failing for a moment before returning.

“I didn’t.”

“...You didn’t.”

Homura blinks again, her eyes looking down, finally noticing that Madoka was still in her school clothes.

“You… you didn’t wish?”

Madoka feels her throat clenching and her chest hurting, a variety of feelings still swirling inside her. The words were still on her lips, almost bursting out of her tongue dozens of times in these past minutes. So many times she almost did it, but she… she didn’t know if it was because she managed to hold herself together or because she was too afraid to do it.

She wasn’t sure she would ever discover the truth.

“I didn’t.”

Homura took a long breath and blinked again.

“What, you thought we four wouldn’t be enough? Even after everything?” Kyoko was a bit annoyed, a bit amused as she questioned Homura.

It was a long, hard and difficult month. She couldn’t see all the training the girls did, but from what Madoka saw, the quartet was almost frenetic in their dedication.

“We went with your plan specifically because it didn’t involve Madoka, did you hit your head, huh?” Sayaka says, rolling her eyes.

Madoka understood, conceptually, that everything today was done to her, to make it possible for her to not wish, but still hearing it made her feel… she wasn’t sure.

It felt wrong.

“We shouldn’t overstay, we should collect the grief seed and then go to a shelter, the emergency services will arrive shortly since “the storm” is finally over.” Mami declares, looking around the destroyed city with sad eyes.

They all expected the destruction, but not only it was worse than they expected, but seeing it… At least her mom, dad and Tatsuya were still in the shelter.

They probably are worried sick about her, she really shouldn’t…

“You are alive?”

…

“All… All are alive?”

The trio of magical girls blinks, sharing a weird and confused look as the final member of the quartet stares at them with a weird look.

“Yeah?”

“More or less?”

“Yes?”

…

Madoka felt a weird sensation on her belly as Homura gives each of them a long look, her eyes finally starting to focus back, and as they do, Homura start to look around, her body and head swinging around in an almost frantic way until she settled her sight into the approaching figure.

“Incubator.”

“...” Kyubey doesn’t answer, it stops and merely stares at Homura, still visibly shaken.

“What was Madoka’s wish?”

…

Madoka herself blinks, confused. She just said to…

*Click!*

“What did she wish for?” The gun pointed at the alien was trembling, shaking.

“...”

*BANG!*

They all jumped as the black haired girl shot the white alien, and for the first in her life, she missed.

“WHAT WAS HER WISH? TELL ME!”

…

Kyubey blinks.

Nobody knew that he could blink.

“She didn’t… Madoka Kaname didn’t wish.”

…

……

“Kaname-san… M-madoka… are you a magical girl?” The question was slow and slurred, as if Homura was just waking up.

She was trembling, Madoka didn’t know why she was trembling.

“No.”

…

……

“I see.”

The purple orbs, finally focused, stare first at the pink orbs, then the yellow orbs, then the blue ones, the red ones, back to the destruction around until they settle into the place where the Stagecraft Witch fell.

…

……

Homura started to tremble.

Madoka opens a small smile as she sees tears forming on the corners of Homura's eyes, she looks around and sees the rest of the quartet, of her friends, slowly smiling too.

*PLOFT!*

They jumped when Homura fell, her knees hitting the ground as her legs failed, she pushed her head towards the ground, almost as if she was praying.

Someone chuckled.

It was over.

They won.

They…

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH”

It was a scream of pain, not the scream of victory and relief, the scream of a human. It was of primal pain, the scream of an animal. None of them ever heard such a scream before.

“H-Homura-chan?!” Madoka exclaims, her shaking legs taking her towards the girl, they falling right as she approaches her. She kneeled beside her.

She didn’t know what to do. What was happening?

They won! It was over!

Why was she screaming? Why was she still screaming?

What was happening?

“H-Homura-chan! W-what happened? A-A-Are you hu…”

Homura’s shield was spinning violently, its red reservoirs throwing sparks as they spun uncontrollably. Madoka saw it closely as it approached her face.

*SMACK!*

It was more of a spasm than a backhand, but it was strong enough to send her flying, her body hitting the ground painfully with a dull thud.

She felt the taste of blood in her mouth, she felt her nose loose and wet, she struggled to breath.

The scream intensified.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! YOU…”

“Hey!!! Stop it! STOP IT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“Akemi-san! Miki-san! Stop! You… Stop! Stop!”

The sound was less of a fight and more of a brawl, she struggled to comprehend it.

The scream intensified.

“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU? WE WON!”

“No! No! NO! HOLD HER!”

“STOP IT! JUST STOP IT!”

The sound devolved from a brawl to a struggle. The voices and screams mix into one.

She felt the blood flowing through her face, her hand was heavy but she managed to put it onto her nose. It hurt. It hurt so much. There was so much blood.

What happened? Why was Homura…

“She… why is… ?”

Kyubey was confused. They didn’t know it could be confused. It didn't know it could be this confused.

“SNAP OUT OF IT! YOU FREAK! STOP!”

“STOP! JUST STOP!”

“H-HER SOUL GEM! A GRIEF SEED! HOLD HER?”

Madoka didn’t know how, but she managed to get up, the bloodied girl managing to stare at the writhing mass that became of the quartet.

For a moment she thought that the trio were piling up on Homura. Until she noticed that they were containing her. And failing.

The small, elegant girl was a beast, her arms and body thrashing around wildly as she screamed, the trio visibly struggling to hold her. Her shield was throwing spark around like a broken firework, her soul gem was as black as the smoke drifting around them, it was a miracle the gun on her right hand was still on being held.

“WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? STOP! STOP!” Sayaka was angry, struggling to hold the arms of the animal that was the girl.

“STOP! PLEASE! STOP!” Kyoko was desperate, her words failing as she tried to pin the girl to the ground.

“HOLD HER! HOLD HER OR SHE WILL WITCH OUT! HOLD!” Mami was panicked as she tried and failed to approach a grief seed to the soul gem of the girl.

“Homura?”

It stopped. The scream stopped. The spasms stop. It all stopped. With a single word coming from the bloodied and shaken girl.

…

For a moment, it was enough.

*Click!*

Until it wasn’t.

*BANG!*

Chapter Text

Dawn. The rise of a new day.

A very beautiful moment where the veil of darkness is pierced by the shining, warm light of the sun. A sky previously dark and monotone being filled with color and life.

No daybreak was ever the same, the same way that no day was the same.

And as he watched the sun slowly rise through the Tokyo bay, its light reflecting through the dark waters and piercing through the concrete mass that was the world's largest city, Oscar felt at peace.

To the utter annoyance of the woman sat beside him.

“I can't believe you did this again.” The annoyance was born more out of tiredness than anger, so he ignored it.

Still, he counterpoints.

“It's just a 10 minute detour, it won't make a difference.”

The woman sighs with annoyance and rests her head on his shoulders, resting her hand on his and intertwining their fingers yet again.

“If I fall asleep here, you will carry me.” It was an order, not a request, but still, he chuckled.

“Sure. As always.”

Nami fell asleep shortly after.

Oscar kept watching the sunrise.

Eventually there began some movement around them: Some morning joggers, old people taking their dogs for a walk, a band of cats passing by, a couple of policemen patrolling and eyeing him. The usual stuff for a quiet Monday morning.

Oscar Penrose was used to it, even considering his unusual circumstances, he was used to his life on Tokyo. Sure, almost hitting 30 made it so that the night out he and Nami had would hit like a truck a bit later, but he could handle it.

He had what? Two meetings today? Maybe three if the Mitakihara branch didn't manage to sort themselves out already? Considering both his official and unofficial job, it was a really manageable Monday.

He had worse. Way worse.

“Yeah, we should get going.” The man declared out loud as the sky was starting to become more yellow than red and orange.

The woman didn't answer, she only mumbles something incoherent as he picks her up in his arms. He was a tall guy but wasn't particularly strong, she was just fairly small and easy to carry around.

He got some looks as he casually walked away from the bench and the park they were towards the street. But as a western living in Tokyo, he was fairly used to receiving the occasional look. Not only was he tall but he had a very generic western look: common face, brown hair still a bit full at the back due to his Mullet days, brown eyes, a bit of a beard and mustache he struggled to keep shaven, a fit enough body and a common white complexion.

He was just a guy. A Western guy, but just a guy. He still got a couple of looks.

Of course these looks now weren't for the usual reasons, but…

“HEY! TAXI! TAXI! Oh, thanks!” It was a bit of a pain signaling for a taxi with his arms full, but thankfully a random old man did it for him, he gave a nod of gratitude before the man gave one back and returned for his walk.

The taxi driver was a middle aged guy who spoke quietly but complained loudly about the radio and the morning sports, not loud enough to wake up or even disturb Nami, but loud enough to make the man mindlessly staring out of the window lament the fact that Twitter wasn't invented yet.

At times he really misses having something to just scroll by. He does not understand the technological advancement of this world and how they were in 2011 but smartphones have yet to still be invented. He likes flipphones, but it wasn't the same.

It took a bit faster than usual to arrive at their apartment, Oscar doing the usual routine of carrying Nami into the new-ish building and into the elevator, it being common enough that the usual neighbors doesn't even give him the side-eye, preferring to give it to Nami instead.

Which, while correct, still bothered him.

Arriving at the mid-sized apartment they both called their own, the man does the usual tradition and promptly dumps Nami into the sofa as he arrives.

“Ugggghhhh! When will you stop doing that?” Oscar chuckles and shrugs as the woman freshly awoken struggles to get up, her hair disheveled and wild as she looks ready to punch him.

Nami Yuu was a walking red flag. Lustrous short black hair that made her look either like a responsible senior or a delinquent, depending on her mood; small and very shiny black eyes; A skin filled with tattoos, all of them expertly done to be hidden by work clothes; A self style closer to a wild, rebellious teen rather than an 29 y.o woman; A small and compact body that could be awfully filled with energy and spite and a mood that could do a 180⁰ on a dime.

“When you stop looking like that when I do so.” Oscar says, inclining himself and giving Nami a quick kiss.

She rolled her eyes, but didn't pull away.

He really loves the color red.

 

“Will you have time today so we can look to change the curtains?”

“Of course not, do you think the scrooges at marketing will even give me time to breathe today?”

“Sure, but we will have to change the curtains some day.”

Nami rolls her eyes at him, taking another sip of her coffee and focusing back on the TV.

“The curtains are fine.”

They were, but they were the same curtains when he came to the apartment years ago, they literally came with it. It was time to change them.

Someday.

“But lunch, then?” The woman now dressed like a professional businesswoman rather than a rebellious teen gives him a smirk.

“Only if some of the newbies of the department can tag along, we will be getting fresh meat.”

“Sure, the more the merrier.”

The woman drops her smirk and rolls her eyes, making the man now clad in an equally as professional attire chuckle.

“You will need to stop doing this sort of stuff someday.”

“I will?”

She snorts.

He chuckles.

Her phone rings.

They look at it. None of them recognize the number.

There's a moment of quiet contemplation and confusion as the small, plastic electronic vibrates and rings out an old rock song.

She picks it up.

“It's Yuu Nami, from design, what…”

The one night stand that started it all came from her name, the obvious pun, and a challenge from the only other foreigner in their branch. He didn't work there anymore.

“Oh, I see, right, her…”

He could count in a single hand the number of times he saw Nami having that expression on her face. A mix of irritation, contempt, fear and anxiety that didn't fit her at all.

There was just a single thing which could bring this expression out of her.

“...I know she is at the hospital, she is always at the hospital… What… What do you mean this is different?” The woman starts to rub her forehead, her expression slowly turning into one of danger.

“I am sorry, but I do not need to be there, you are the doctors, not me, there's nothing I can do.” It was an affirmation, a declaration.

It wasn't enough.

“I…I-I… Ok, fine! I will go! I will be there before lunch!”

…

*BAM!*

“FUCK!”

Oscar blinks and stares a little at the hand that made the table jump a little from the strength of its impact before he stares at the woman, a woman that had a very wild and angry look at her face.

There was literally just one thing that made the woman react that way.

“So… your kid?”

The groan that came out as a response was closer to one of a pained animal rather than an actual answer.

He superficially knew Nami had a kid the same way he superficially knew she was a widow. Not only did she never speak of it, she didn't have pictures, movies or anything like that of her kid or her ex-husband. And it wasn’t like she didn't bring it along when she moved with him.

He went into her previous apartment a couple of times, she didn't have anything there either.

“She got into an accident or something, I have to actually go there and sign her clearance from the hospital, fuck, and it has to be today, fuck!”

He could count in his two hands the times Nami went to see her kid, not due to her telling him or giving some indication but rather than it, it was because Hina at HR was a very loudmouth and she was very invested in seeing them both breaking up, so every time Nami had some “Family emergency” she told him.

That snake.

“I mean, at least you will not see marketing today.” He tries.

The look of annoyance and anger shows he failed.

“I don't believe I will need to go to Mitakihara! I can't believe I will lose my entire work day due to her!” Nami declares, hitting the table again before getting up and looking ready to leave.

This got him a sour taste in his mouth.

As she never questioned his unusual circumstances he never questioned her strange family situation. But considering her state and from what little he can gather from, well, everything…

“Can I come?”

The woman's anger instantly evaporates, turning into a mix of shock and disbelief, she staring at him as if he grew a second head and it started retelling the story of Princess Kaguya.

“Why?” Her question was, above all, fair.

He shrugs.

“Well, I have to eventually check on the Mitakihara branch anyways, better now than never...”

“...”

“...And well, it's your kid… I think it would be cool for me to be with you.”

Nami blinks once, twice, thrice. She tries to speak. She fails. She hesitates. She opens her mouth again. She closes her mouth. She raises her hand and slowly passes her fingers through her hair. She closes her eyes. She breathes out.

Her eyes were unfocused.

“Ok?”

It wasn't an affirmation, it was a question.

It was enough for him.

 

Mitakihara was the weirdest place he ever went. Even considering his unusual circumstances it was difficult to properly convey how weird that city was. He understood it was the birthplace of an artstyle he struggled to describe as even human, but he couldn't understand why it had embraced so much of its absurdity.

It was a city that didn't feel like a real city. Not the first time he went there, nor the second and not even now. The destruction of yesterday somehow making it look even less like a real city.

Still, a hospital was still a hospital.

It was a lot more packed and busy than usual for a hospital, but considering the still fresh disaster, it is a miracle it was that empty.

“She was recently moved into a more private room, Miss Yuu. Her condition is stable but delicate.” The rose haired nurse informs as she continues to escort them through various corridors. Her tone was professional and her azure eyes held the expected warmth of a nurse.

She knew Nami and Nami knew her. By the way that Nami's fingers were doing their best to crumple his fingers and how the nurse's smirk had a small but noticeable edge on it, they clearly didn't want to know each other.

Nami had been weird the entirety of the train ride to Mitakihara and even weirder the entirety of the taxi ride. She refused to let go of his hand even for a second, not due to support, but due to something else.

“Good, then I believe it will be quick?” Her tone was both impatient and hopeful, her stride carrying a strange energy that flew throughout her purple business suit.

It was a bit too hot for his normal and standard monochromatic suit, but he was still managing.

Strangely, the nurse looks at him for a moment before returning her gaze up front. She was very interested, curious by his presence ever since they arrived. She still had to direct her words towards him.

She didn’t answer Nami.

They arrive in front of a door. Room 5-12.

The nurse stands in front of the door.

Nami releases his hand at such quick speed it almost seems like he had given her a shock.

“It will be quick, wait her…”

“All Family members can enter, Miss Yuu.”

Both were now staring at him, two very different looks on two different faces. There were expectations and fear. Hope and anger. Hesitancy and attitude.

He takes a deep breath.

This felt important, but why?

“Sure, it will be quick, right?” He smiled.

He got one smile back and a look of shock.

The door opens.

It was the most generic hospital room in existence. But at its center, on a hospital bed, gazing at the window with an undecipherable gaze far too old for such youth, there was a girl.

Not a kid. A girl.

13? 14? 15? He didn't know, but it was a girl, a child but not a kid.

What.

Nami burst forward, entering into the room with a powerful, angry stride. She saw his face.

“What happened to you?” There was no care in those words. Anger, fear and annoyance, but no warmth or care. She strode there with her purple business suit almost shining with energy and her hair almost flowing with anger.

It wasn't the woman he knew.

The.

But as the girl takes her eyes off the window and back into the room, they don't fixate on the woman full of emotion, but on the man full of shock. Purple and brown clashing for a moment until brief recognition and unrecognition arrive.

He arrived there without knowing a single soul nor having any idea of what happened. At times he struggled to even remember what he lost. But there was a lot of random stuff he remembered, that he knew.

From random passwords to websites that will yet come to be, or never will, to random parts of movies yet to film, to random details from anime that have yet to even be conceptualized.

And today was Monday, the second day of May, 2011.

This didn't make any sense.

Fuck.

“Miss Akemi, you have visitors!” The nurse calmly says, strolling into the room, her voice affectionate but carrying an edge.

The girl who was too familiar to the man, too familiar with her purple eyes, too recognizable for her long, lustrous black hair, nods towards the nurse and finally stares at the woman.

The woman takes a step back.

There was no recognition, either in the black orbs or the purple ones. As if two aliens met for the first time. Two very similar aliens, but aliens nonetheless.

The woman blinks once, twice, thrice.

“...”

The girl blinks once, twice, thrice.

“...”

The man, for the first time in such a long time, doubting his sanity, looks at the nurse. Whatever she expected, it wasn't this.

This didn't make sense.

“Homura?” Nami's words were mumbled and slow, as if she was waking up from a dream.

For a quick moment, he thinks there was recognition behind the girl's eyes. He was wrong.

“Who… Who are you?”

Chapter Text

It was painful.

A sort of dull, slow, but ever present pain that made it both bearable and maddening. It shouldn't be like this, it didn't make sense to be like this.

Madoka Kaname couldn't understand how a broken nose could hurt so much. It hurts every time she breathes. It hurts with every beat of her heart. It hurts even when she thinks.

“It should be better now, Miss Kaname, it was a clean fracture so it should heal back in a month or so. I will be prescribing you some anti-inflammatories and some pain medicine, but you can return if you feel anything else.” The doctor was kind, exhausted but visibly relieved that he was treating a simple broken nose after everything.

Walpurgisnacht was a lot more destructive than she thought it would have been, but a lot less lethal. There were some deaths and a lot of people were hurt, but she didn't know how many, she didn't want to know how many. Looking around the destroyed city was already enough.

It was already recovering, probably faster than expected, but it still felt like a failure to her.

“Thank you, doctor! Thank you! We will be taking good care of her!” Her dad says with an energy she couldn't understand where it came from. Like her mom, he clearly didn't sleep in the shelter, only relaxing after they returned to their very dirty, but intact house a couple of hours ago. The kind man barely had time to relax before immediately taking her to the hospital.

Sayaka and Mami did their best to bandage her face and the overworked medical staff in the shelter did a good check up on her, but both her parents insisted that she absolutely needed to go to the hospital due to her “accident”

Still, she felt guilty.

Madoka was still not sure if she was feeling relieved or not that neither her mom or her dad questioned how she had broken her nose, they were not questioning her even as she returned to the shelter shortly after “the storm” had ended. Only Tatsuya was innocent enough to ask why “Big sis look like tomatoe” and thankfully her non descript answer that she had an accident was enough.

“...”

“Hmm, Madoka?” Her dad called after an awkward moment of silence.

“O-oh! Thank you, Mister doctor, I will take care of myself!” Madoka says in a tone too fast, she struggles to speak due to her nose and the bandages on it. The merely doctor opens a tired smile and nods.

She and her father leave with a prescription in hand and a better done bandage on her face. It was quick, quicker than she thought, both due to the low severity of her wound and how full the hospital was.

There still were a lot of people from yesterday, far too many people. And not only them, but…

…

“Are you alright, Madoka? Feeling something?” Her dad asks softly as they walk through the hospital, he noticing the looks she was giving around.

“N-no, it's just…” Madoka’s voice broke before she could even finish.

She could still hear the loud bang that shook her world. She could still see the blood flying through the air. She could still see the mix of gore and flesh flying out.

It didn’t make sense.

Why? Just… why?

“Worried for a friend?” The man asks with a benign smile, the girl hesitating before slowly nodding.

“Did they get hurt by the storm?”

…

She nods. She hates lying.

“Is she here?” There was a certain amount of surprise in the man's voice.

She nods after a moment of reflection.

“Do you want to go see her?”

…

……

She wasn’t sure how to answer this.

She knew that she was fine, it was Mami that decided to take her to the hospital after everything happened. And… she was a magical girl, Madoka knew now how magical girls worked, what it meant to be a magical girl. If she let the dark thoughts in her mind materialize she could conclude that what happened hurt more them than her.

Sayaka was so angry, her anger trying to cloud the confusion and fear she felt, but Madoka knew her for enough time to know that what happened shook the blue haired justicier more than she herself expected.

Kyoko was lost. The normally brazen and loud mouthed redhead was completely silent after what happened. Madoka didn’t speak or knew her as much as she wanted, but it was clear that what happened made her feel things.

Mami was weird. After what happened she was the only one who did something, she was the only one who could do something. She recruited Sayaka to help her nose and after collecting a different looking Grief Seed from the Stageplay witch, she was the one who took Homura to the hospital.

And Homura…

…

*PING!*

Madoka jumps a little bit and blinks as the elevator signals its arrival and opens its door to one of the white corridors of the hospital. It being the patient room corridor from what she could see, a small plate informing they were on the fifth floor.

Huh? What?

Her dad chuckles and gives her a caring rub on her back.

“You really were in your own world, Madoka.” The kind man says with a smile on his face and a bit of humor in his voice, casually guiding her out of the elevator.

It took Madoka a couple of moments to process what happened.

“H-How?”

“Of your friends, you only make this particular expression from one of them… And she went to our house twice before, remember?” Tomohisa says with a bit more humor in his voice. He gives out a small chuckle when Madoka feels her face heat up.

Only for a look of worry to arise as she flinches when the heat reaches her nose. It hurts.

“Apparently there are some visitors with her, but we can wait a little.” The man continues after a moment, giving his daughter a look of interest as the girl blinks in utter confusion.

Visitors? For Homura?

For a single moment Madoka considers that the rest of the quarter came to visit Homura and check on her, after all, just like her, they were free from classes at the moment, their school still being inspected for structural damages. But…

It didn't make sense.

They arrive at an open door, room 12. For a moment even her dad hesitates.

And then they notice the sounds of chaos.

“Miss Yuu! Calm down! She is still recovering!”

“How can you say that?!? How dare you say that!?! How dare you!”

“...”

Both Madoka and Tomohisa are rooted in the entrance of the hospital room, father and daughter equally stunned at the such chaotic and unexpected scene.

There was a foreigner inside the room, a fairly tall, western looking guy, wearing a nice looking suit and looking somehow even more stunned than both combined, his eyes darting back and forth to the scene ahead of him as if he was a broken clock.

It made sense after noticing the scene proper.

There was an adult woman wearing a purple suit, with her familiar lustrous black hair disheveled as she tried to advance towards the hospital bed, she being contained by a nurse who was physically holding her.

The scene all too familiar made Madoka’s stomach lurch, only for it to stop as she stares at the figure on the bed.

Homura was simply on the hospital bed, wearing hospital clothes and staring at the very close disheveled woman with a puzzled look on her face, as if she was watching some very strange and bizarre alien. Not caring in the slightest about the chaos around.

“She suffered a brain injury! We are not certain of her state!” The nurse exclaims as she continues to struggle to contain the woman.

Madoka blinks. She didn't know if it was because of a magical girl's magic, or it was Mami or even Kyubey, but Homura being in the hospital due to a brain injury is… correct, sort of.

And strangely, this actually makes the adult woman stop.

“She had a stroke?” This was so absurd that the woman stopped for a moment

“We are still investigating, but we are not sure if her memories are affected or not, we…”

“Why are you here?”

It takes a moment for Madoka to notice that this was asked to her by the foreigner. One which was now staring at her with a mix of confusion and recognition. It was clear to her that the man knew her, which was confusing since she was sure that she had never seen this man before.

The question brought attention to her, both the nurse and the woman turning with confusion towards her and her dad. And besides them, Homura slowly turns towards Madoka, her eyes shining for a moment before suddenly becoming filled with confusion.

“... Madoka?”

Homura’s face was a strange mix of rapidly changing emotions, the beautiful girl being the most expressive that Madoka ever saw her. For a moment, she even thinks that the nurse might have been correct and what happened might have been permanent, since…

*SLAP*

The surge of emotions was cut down with a singular, loud slap.

…

……

There are a few moments of complete silence as everyone seems to digest what happened, including the woman whose palm still stung from the recent strike.

“...Mother.”

Although Homura’s face was visibly red, her words were cold. Her face was of contempt and her eyes were two small orbs of irritation as they fixated on the woman. Her expression being one Madoka never saw on Homura, not even as she refers to Kyubey, to an incubator.

Madoka felt the hand of her dad on her shoulder, she felt him pull but with not enough strength to actually do something, the man being too stunned by…everything to even properly react.

Strangely, the western man was slowly exchanging glances between herself, Homura and… Homura’s mother? The man slowly returning to his confusion.

“What… What is wrong with you? What happened with you?” The woman, who apparently is Homura’s mother, asks, her expression eerily mirroring the girl's.

Homura's eyes grow harsher until she slowly returns her gaze towards Madoka, not a word being uttered towards her progenitor. Her eyes, her expression, everything softens as she gazes upon Madoka.

It was weird. She felt uncomfortable. Her nose was hurting. What was happening?

“Madoka… You are alive." It was more of an affirmation rather than a question, but she could hear the small, but clear presence of doubt in it, Homura looking both elated and slightly fearful.

She held up her breath. Her nose hurt. She saw this before. No.

Please, not again.

“Who is this girl? What are you doing here?” The woman's gaze was now set upon her, Madoka feeling herself freeze as the mix of contempt and interest settled upon her. Only for it to be immediately stopped by her dad putting himself in front of her.

“My daughter is friends with that girl! Who are you? What are you doing? We are at a hospital!” The kind man was both angry and defensive.

She didn't know the last time she ever saw her dad angry. As Madoka takes a step towards her left and peeks around Tomohisa, she feels like a child again.

She barely manages to see the moment that the nurse basically shoves the woman away and stands between her and Homura.

“Out! Everyone out! This is a hospital! And the patient is still recovering! Out!” The nurse orders.

Only to be ignored by the patient herself.

“Madoka! What happened!?! After… After…” Homura was stumbling out of her bed, holding herself by the window, her eyes being confused and distant. This is until she focuses on Madoka, now finally focusing on her face.

Her eyes widened in a way that would be funny in a better moment.

“Miss Akemi! You have to rest! You…”

“What happened to your nose? Who hurt you!” Homura basically screams, stunning everyone and making Madoka flinch.

“...” She could lie, right? It would be best for her to lie, right?

“Tell me! I remember I protected you! When it… when it…” Homura’s expression grows pained and her breath starts to flicker.

“It was… it was an accident?” She wanted to exclaim but her words sounded more like a question.

For a moment she thought that Homura would scream again. Her nose hurt, her body freezes yet again, she tried to lie to herself but she felt scared. She didn't know what to do. What was happening? Why was this happening?

Please, not again.

“I see. I remember.” Homura’s face becomes one of cold detachment, her usual expression returning with such vengeance and such speed that Madoka almost feels her head spin with whiplash.

“I'm sorry.” And with a declaration, Homura turns her back towards everyone and towards the window.

*Click!*

It opens far too easily. A gentle breeze filled the room until it was blocked by the body of the mysterious, beautiful girl.

She didn't hesitate for a single second.

Nobody could even react to it. There were no screams, no wild gestures, no reaction. Everyone was too stunned by the absurdity, by the easeness, by the decisiveness of the act to even react.

With an exception.

*BAM!*

Madoka blinks. Tomohisa blinks. The woman blinks. The nurse blinks. Homura, who was now back at the bed, with a body pinning her to it, blinks.

It was too fast and too confusing for Madoka to catch, she barely saw the western man dash, tackle and then pin Homura to the bed. The almost forgotten, confused, unknown man being the single one to act.

The breathless man, with his limbs still shaking, gets up from the bed but remains pinning Homura’s shoulder with his hand, his touch firm and secure. He turns around, seeing equally stunned looks and then turns his eyes towards the still stunned girl who so easily was trying to end her own life. The brown orbs clashing with the purple ones.

And with a single shout that echoed around her world, everything changed:

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN MIND?”

Chapter Text

The last time he felt such massive pain in his head, a bullet was going through it. But in that case it was just a split second, quicker than blinking his eyes. This time he wasn't so lucky.

A mix of tiredness from yesterday, confusion and emotional exhaustion was hitting him hard enough to make him feel pain with every thought. His entire head burning up from the inside as his brain failed to process the complete insanity that he was living.

Oscar couldn't even blame drinking or even this all being a dream, because he knew himself well enough to know that he couldn't create something as insane as reality. The reality he was now living in, his reality.

Which was simultaneously the reality of the anime Puella Magica Madoka Magi… or was it Puella Magi Madoka Magica?

He didn't remember for sure and of the things his unusual circumstances brought, this was one he needed the most. Because he needed something, anything, right now.

“Mister Penrose, sorry for the state we are in, as you can see, we still are cleaning up.”

Why in the fuck he still needed to go to work after it all? How in the fuck he needed to do this? Literally, how? He didn't need to visit the Mitakihara branch, he knew that, his boss knew that, it was just a convenient excuse! He needed to… to… well… maybe… he needed…

Fuck.

He didn't even know.

“Thank you for receiving me, Misses Kaname. It will be quick.”

“It better be.”

It was extremely obvious, painfully so, who the woman in front of him was. Light Purple hair put into a short, professional style, tired but sharp light purple eyes, small but a bit taller than Nami, a professional expression decorated by richly and carefully crafted makeup. The woman in front of him was the tell-tale sight of a businesswoman. Standing proud and strong in the wreck of an office they were in.

Junko Kaname. The rising and strong-willed star of the Mitakihara branch. A woman who he met twice before, a woman who always left a strong impression. A woman who only drops her defenses, slightly, to talk about her daughter and her son. A woman who was the mother of Madoka.

Oscar resists the urge to kick himself violently because, well, Kaname wasn't a particularly rare family name, he didn't remember much of Junko from the anime and she never told him her daughter's name, and even if she did, Madoka wasn't a rare name either. He couldn't have known.

Still, ouch.

“The state of the main building is better than expected, how's the rest?” There was water everywhere, a lot of broken windows, some mud and broken trees and the interior was still chaotic. But considering some of the buildings he saw, it was certainly better than he ought to believe.

Especially since there was already part of the cleaning and repairing crew working to put the office back on order, he received a normal amount of looks as he arrived and could still feel some looks as the crew moved tables, chairs and cabinets around them.

“We were quite lucky to not be directly in the storm's way, but the main railway hub flooded completely, damage reports will finish Wednesday, and apparently there was a minor fire on our server farm.” The woman responds in a way that is both casual and that guides him towards a desired question.

He took the bait.

“Minor fire?”

“The fire department notified us of a fire in the general area, but they still haven't cleared us from inspection. We will probably manage to send someone tomorrow or probably Wednesday.” Her voice had a professional amount of worry and resignation, the sharply dressed woman looking like a professional, law abiding boss.

She clearly wanted to go home as fast as it was physically possible.

He understood her, a lot. Especially now and especially considering the fact that, somehow, her daughter was alive and not a concept-God thing. Junko was exhausted and clearly needed some rest. So did he.

So did all of them.

…

But unfortunately for them all, he had a job.

“They haven't cleared you or you haven't asked for them to clear you?” There was a clear sign of irritation and the tiniest spasm on her smile, but Junko held her expression.

“Unfortunately, both, you see…”

“Then ask for clearance.”

Nobody liked to be interrupted. But he still had to find someone in this company that wasn't completely stunned by being interrupted. His unofficial job had its fun moments.

Which are typically followed by stressful moments.

“Are you telling me to open this request not even 24 hours after a major freak storm struck our city?” Her mask was breaking, there was now clear irritation on her eyes.

“Yes.”

…

“You know that you are very far from Kansas, don't you?” There was clear poison dripping from Junko's tongue, it not affecting him since she and no one else had any idea of how right her words were.

Oscar smiles.

“Considering the state of the railway hub, the fact that even if somebody starts inspecting the server farm now, their report will probably be ready by tomorrow night, at best, and considering the state of this building, I think it will be pretty reasonable to suspend office activities until Wednesday.” There was a flicker of confusion in Junko's face that quickly turned into quiet acknowledgement and understanding.

“So your recommendation as a consultor, Mr. Penrose, is to switch to in-home work until Wednesday?” Due to the weird technological development of this world, they had a stronger notion of working from home than expected of 2011, but not by much. They had the tech, but not the culture or the desire to do so. That's where he comes in as his official job.

“Would be, but I leave it to you to implement it as the de facto representative of the Mitakihara branch.” He had no idea where that old drunkard was and had no desire to know. That man was too old for his job 10 years ago and everyone, besides himself, noticed it.

Junko's eyes flashed and her smile grew slightly.

She was sharp.

“I understand, my office is still functional, so I will be formalizing the request shortly, you can use it to authenticate your signature for the main branch.”

And a dangerous woman.

 

“...”

“...”

“...Want some?”

The man sighs and takes the drink being offered to him by the woman who never looked worse before. It was as colorful thing, as sweet as it was bitter, very strong and with a decisive touch of lime.

The bartender to his left was giving him some looks, not of caution but of pleading. Which became of resignation as Oscar finishes the drink in one go.

“Thanks, honey, I needed it too.” The exhausted man says, putting the drink on the counter, kissing the top of the woman's head and sitting right beside her at the counter.

Nami looked like if a train ran her over, repeatedly. The normally confident and brazen woman looked like a complete mess, with her lustrous hair looking close to a rat's nest, her beautiful dark eyes were bloodshot, her skin had a decisively sick tone to it and her expression was downright miserable.

“...” She couldn't face him or didn't want to, quietly staring at the counter in front of her.

There were so many ways he could start it, but he decided to go with the simpler one.

“How was it after I left?”

“...A complete and utter mess, what did you expect?” The sheer absurdity of the question was enough for her to give him side-eyes.

It was a start.

“How bad?”

The woman sighs heavily and buries her face in her hands, her fingers making whirlwinds out of random strains in her hair. She looked like she wanted to scream.

“The hospital is threatening me with legal action.”

…Oscar really wasn't surprised, but he will never admit it out loud. He knew he should have stayed with her, but not only he couldn't but he kinda doubts it would change anything. This issue wasn't recent and he knew it.

“They are threatening to sue me for child abandonment, child endangering, child abuse, child something, child anything, fuck!” The woman, almost reaching 30 y.o exclaims, her face still buried in her hands.

By their left the bartender blinks and takes a step away from them. Oscar looks at him and smiles awkwardly before focusing back on Nami, putting a hand on her back and rubbing it affectionately.

The fact that everything Nami was saying and everything that happened was in relation to Homura Akemi made it so that it all didn't feel quite real.

He might have been the one who stopped her, his hands still shook slightly by remembering it, he might have held her in his arms for a short moment, he might have looked right into her eyes, he might have even screamed at her for a reason he couldn't even understand himself.

But Oscar Penrose couldn't comprehend that that girl, that his girlfriend's child, that Nami's daughter, was Homura Akemi. Not a Homura Akemi, but THE Homura Akemi.

There were some short, fledgling moments where he thought that maybe it was all a massive coincidence and that the girl only happened to look like the anime character, had the same name and the same aura. After all, there was already plenty of weird stuff in this world.

Like people had anime hair in this world, not all people, but mainly Japanese people. And perhaps some other Asians, from what he remembers from the news, but he never looked too much into it, it was just a normal fact of life in this world.

And with his unusual circumstances, he accepted it.

Perhaps that girl was just coincidentally a perfect copy of Homura Akemi or maybe she was an Alternate Universe version of her. Like, wasn't Homura an orphan in the anime? He was pretty sure it got confirmed in one of the movies… or perhaps the manga… or was it in the PS6 game?

Fuck, he didn't remember.

And it doesn't even matter.

While he could believe in coincidence and/or even an Alternate Universe version, his belief meant nothing when faced with reality. A reality that didn't make any sense.

Because she appeared. Madoka. Not as a God-concept thing, not even as a magical girl, but as a regular girl. Her nose was even broken, as if to show to him that the girl couldn't use magic to heal herself and that she didn't have the traditional zombie-like magical girl body.

…

Wait. Wait a fucking minute.

If Homura was a magical girl, what the fuck was she even trying to do? It would do nothing to her besides making her feel a lot of pain, she couldn't kill her body in a way that mattered!

This didn't make any fucking sense!

“...I will have to ask for a transfer to the Mitakihara branch! Do you believe it?!?”

It took the man a moment to get out of his thoughts and focus back on Nami, which was ranting. Confusion immediately filled his face.

“What, why?”

“Because one of the conditions for the hospital to not sue me was to “Take responsibility for the girl and take care of her”, can you believe it?” Nami was visibly insulted by it.

And Oscar was confused.

Not even considering that Nami hit Homura while she was bedridden, a fact he had trouble comprehending that it even happened, but it didn't make any sense for them to push this kind of thing to Nami! Not only Homura, supposedly, had some kind of head injury but if she tried to kill herself on hospital grounds what…

…

Oh.

“Oh, they are trying to get away with their responsibility.” The man says, both insulted and impressed. He knew that while much more advanced than expected, a medical system was still a medical system.

“YES! How dare they push this kind of thing to me!?!” Exclaims the mother.

“So you will have to move to Mitakihara to take care of her?” Nami sighs and after a moment, gives the man a look of defeat, her hands mindlessly working on her bair.

“Yeah, take care of her, take her to the hospital for regular checkups, something about school, fuck, they just didn't involved the police or child protection because… I don't know?”

Oscar sighs and hugs Nami, the woman resisting for a moment before finally relaxing on his arms.

The bartender was staring at them both as if they were two aliens. Oscar stared at him until he started distracting himself with some misplaced glasses.

“We will need to look for some place to…”

“She already has a place, I have to move on with her due to the agreement… fuck… I… I don't even remember the last time we lived together.” A truly lost Nami mumbles as she shuffles in his arms.

He had so many, soo many questions, but he knew that not only he shouldn't ask them now, no one could handle them now and he had the time. He was a patient man, kinda.

“How many rooms are there?” The man asks, vaguely remembering Homura’s house from the anime and praying that even though Mitakihara's architecture was weird, the house decoration of Homura's house was just an exaggeration.

Although he admits he was curious how it all hung around, especially that clock thing.

“4, I think? Why?”

“Just checking how I will fit in. Good, we can initiate packing as we arrived back at my apartment.”

…

……

“...”

“...?”

“YOU WHAT?”

Chapter Text

It felt weird going to school. After everything she saw, after everything that happened with her, with her friends, with her city. It felt wrong.

Madoka felt like she shouldn't go to school. Like she shouldn't be capable of going to school. As she shouldn't be capable of spending most of yesterday with her family. As she shouldn't be capable of enjoying her dad's food, her mom's words or Tatsuya's laughter.

She didn't understand why but it all felt so wrong.

And she wasn't alone in it.

“Do you think that Sensei Saotome will bother asking for homework? I may have forgotten mine.” Sayaka asks, emulating her normal, cheeky and cool way. She looked as normal as ever, her leisure pace easily keeping up with hers.

But Madoka knew her, knew her enough to see that her hair clip was out of place, that her clothes were crumpled, that the way that she swung her bag, it was lighter than usual. Plus she could see the hidden, almost as if afraid, look on Sayaka's blue eyes:

She was lost.

“I don't know? I don't think she will, it would be unfair.” She answers, giving a small look to her left, where Hitomi should have been.

She didn't know if Hitomi completely evacuated the city, if something happened with her family, if she wasn't allowed to go to school yet, if something happened with Hitomi herself or if she simply was with Kyosuke.

She didn't call or messaged her, it felt wrong.

“...Yeah, you are right.” Sayaka’s words get lower and she gives a quick look around their usual path. There were still some broken trees and debris around them, most of it being cleaned up but not all.

Madoka flinches, kicking herself mentally for her words. The action makes her groan as her nose flares up in pain.

Sayaka’s eyes are immediately upon her, the blue haired justicier grinding her teeth and gripping her bag with enough strength to make her knuckles turn white. There wasn't the usual irritation that accompanied Sayaka’s thoughts about the beautiful and mysterious transfer student, there was anger. Genuine anger.

“How is it?” Her words were closer to a bark as she stares at Madoka’s bandaged nose.

“G-good! Dad took me to the hospital! All good!” She answered far too quickly, with her smile being obviously forced as she felt her skin grow pale.

Thankfully Sayaka didn't ask, looking ready to curse upon Homura, but she held herself. Probably thinking that Madoka’s paleness came from it, from her.

Sayaka was correct, but not in the way she thought.

…

Part of her wanted to cry just by thinking about it, just by remembering it. Another part wanted to puke in disgust of herself. Her stomach feels heavy and weird as she remembers what happened in that hospital room, all that happened and that scene.

She did nothing.

No, she not only did nothing, she stared. She just stared as Homura tried to jump out of a window.

Due to her. Due to her nose. Due to that small accident.

It was her fault! If she had better reflexes or if she noticed it before or if she managed to calm down Homura beforehand… she wouldn't have tried to jump out of a window! She wouldn't put a gun on her own head and…

“Hello, Madoka, Sayaka, nice to see you both again!”

“Oh, hi Mami!”

Madoka blinks, feeling again some heat reaching her face. She was right in front of her school. She spaced-out, again.

“H-hey! How are you?”

She didn't even need her eyes to focus to have her answer to her question.

And to once again feel like kicking herself mentally.

Mami gives her a pleasant smile. She looked the same as ever, her golden hair was perfectly done, her uniform was neat, her bag almost shone due to how clean it was. Mami was the same as they ever saw her. No, she maybe even looked better than usual.

This not only felt wrong, this was wrong.

“I feel refreshed! Yesterday was a very good day off!” The older girl answers with a pleasant tone, offering them a warm smile.

Sayaka maintains her easygoing smile but gives Madoka a short look. She too took notice.

Madoka’s nose pickled with pain as Mami gave it a short look before quickly ignoring it.

“And how 's Kyoko? She is still at your place?” Sayaka asks with a casual tone as the now trio slowly climb the stairs to their school.

There were noticeably fewer students than usual.

“Yeah, she spent the entire day sleeping and eating. What a troublesome child!” Mami said in her usual, almost maternal way.

“Hmmm, did Kyubey appear to you?” Of them all, Mami was the only one who still regularly interacted with the Incubator. It was a minor point of contention to the quartet, from what Madoka gathered, especially after the reveal of, well, everything.

“Actually no, I expected him to appear already, but I guess that he is busy and things are pretty peaceful.” Mami says as they enter the gates of the school, some cleaning workers and maintenance crew still working on some areas of the school.

“Speaking of disappearing weirdos, do you have any news of…”

“No.”

The trio walked in silence until they hit the intersection to their classes, with Mami giving them her usual wave and pleasantries before going to her class. Madoka and Sayaka could only exchange looks and move on to their class, it all being so weird and wrong that it didn't felt real.

The strangeness held until they reached their classroom. It was, as the rest of the school, emptier than usual. With the students there having a noticeable down mood, most staying silent in their desks, gazing at nothing.

Including someone that really shouldn’t have been there.

N-no, she should, but…

“What the heck are you doing here?” Sayaka wasn't even angry, she was just shocked.

“...I study here.” The declaration was small and short as it always were, with her eyes quickly averting away from Sayaka’s and switching to Madoka’s.

She had no idea how she held the look, how brief it was.

She… She…

She didn't know.

…

Madoka opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. Her nose hurts.

Sayaka holds her hand and drags her away. She felt those eyes accompanying her as she lets herself get away.

…

Homura looked the worst of them all. Her hair normally so polished, lustrous and beautiful was like a Mice's nest. Her normally inexpressive purple eyes were bloodshot and looked exhausted. Her young and perfect skin had a bit of a sickly tone. Even her uniform was a mess, being sloppily put and extremely crumpled.

It made sense for her to be the worst of them all, it made far too sense. But… she was Homura. The beautiful, mysterious transfer student. The one who saved not only herself but everyone in the quartet and the entire city!

She wanted to hug her. She wanted so much to hug her. She desperately needed a hug. But… But what if… She already tried twice…

Her nose hurts. She was afraid. Not again. Please, not again!

“Why is she here?” Sayaka whispers as they both reach their desks, the blue haired justicier giving some looks towards the transfer student who was just staring at the whiteboard.

“M-maybe the hospit…” Madoka starts and then stops herself.

She was her classroom nurse's assistant, she received some medical training and some medical procedure training. Not as much as an adult or even a high-schooler, but enough to know that the situation was truly bizarre the more she thought about it.

After that scene, she, her dad and what she assumes are Homura’s parents got kicked out of the room, with Homura’s mom being basically dragged out by the nurse to somewhere else and her… errr… Well, Homura didn't look western, so she assumed the man was her uncle? A family friend? Maybe her step-father?

It comes with a strange sensation to know that Homura never told her anything about her own family.

But, well, the western man who saved Homura’s life, stood around for a moment before leaving. She wanted to speak with him, especially since he appeared to have known her, but she couldn’t at the time and neither could her dad, who was too busy comforting her as she struggled to not cry.

She failed.

“I am not sure what Mami told the hospital but, I don't know, it feels too soon.” Sayaka agrees with the sentiment, giving Homura more looks and a short, almost unnoticed look towards Kyosuke's empty desk.

She almost forgot that Sayaka has more experience with hospitals and recovery than her.

Madoka opens her mouth to tell Sayaka that the hospital was treating Homura as if she had suffered some kind of head accident or even a stroke, but she stops herself. She couldn't handle the questions as she couldn't handle explaining what happened and what she saw.

She felt like a horrible person.

“Yeah, but maybe being a magical girl helps?”

“It does, but… forget it.” Sayaka says, unconsciously touching her face and wiping it out. Due to her proximity with Homura and the angle, she was hit with the gore and… Madoka did her best to ignore Sayaka’s shaking hand as she sits down.

Thankfully, Sensei Saotome appeared shortly after, the short, frustrated but wise adult arriving as if nothing major happened and started ranting about a date that “mysteriously dumped her yesterday”. The mix of absurdity, and normality of it all made it so that, for some moments, Madoka and most students could distract themselves a little and focus just on the present.

Of course it was later followed by actual lessons, which were closer to revisions than actual new content, but Madoka felt it easier to concentrate than she expected, the lessons flowing freely as Sensei Saotome constantly picks up random students to answer questions on the white board, she even went there!

It was a science question about the placebo effect, she managed to answer it with some help. While Sayaka was chosen randomly twice for english questions and went badly both of them.

“Miss Akemi! It 's you now!” Saotome Sensei calls after randomly putting her finger on the class list, her smile faltering for a brief moment as she looks at the silent transfer student.

Homura never took much part in the classroom if she wasn't called for it, but as always, the mysterious girl answers it immediately, getting up from her desk and standing in front of the white board. Even if she still visibly looked bad, and, well, everything happened, she was still Homura, one of the smartest persons she and the entirety of the class knew!

Sensei Saotome presents to Homura a math question. A question about… errr… she wasn’t sure but she knew that they saw it before. The type of question they all struggled with but Homura cleared it as if she had it from memory.

Madoka stares at Homura’s back as the beautiful girl quickly puts a formula on the board with the digital chalk. And… And then…

…

She stopped?

…

……

Did she really stop? Huh?

“Errrr…” Sayaka is visibly confused, giving Madoka a look as Madoka continues to stare at Homura. Around them, the rest of the class was trading similar looks.

Homura froze completely for some seconds, looking quite like a statue as the beautiful girl slowly recovers, taking a small step back and looking at the formula on the board. It took her a long moment before she looked at Sensei Saotome, who was struggling to maintain her smile.

“Miss Akemi? What's the problem?”

Homura gives a stare back at the problem at hand, at the formula she wrote on the board and then back to their teacher.

Homura looked so confused she even looked like someone else.

“I-I… I… don't know?”

For the first time in Madoka’s life, she hears fragility coming out of Homura’s voice.

“O-oh! The formula is correct! You just have to use it!” The teacher whose smile was slowly faltering answers.

Homura turns her head back to the formula and the question, staring at it for a moment before turning back to the teacher.

“...”

Saotome Sensei clears her throat.

“The formula you put in is correct, Miss Akemki, now you can use it to calculate the distance between points A and point B! As you have done before!”

…

“As I have done before…” Madoka has no idea how she heard the whisper, but she hears clear confusion coming from Homura, as if she was staring for the first time at the problem at hand.

…

Homura puts the digital chalk at the white board for a moment, before slowly turning her head around and scanning the class with a small hurry in her look, until she settles upon her.

Madoka blinks and finds her body freezing as she tries and fails to interpret what Homura was asking her. She not only didn't know what that problem was and how to solve it, but she… well, she…

She thought that Homura knew.

With a helpless, almost comical shrug, Madoka answers.

Homura turns back to the whiteboard, stares at the single, small point left by the digital chalk on the board. The point looks small, insignificant, almost a mistake as it compares to the beautifully crafted formula beside it.

…

Homura takes a step back.

Quietly hands back the digital chalk to the catatonic Sensei Saotome.

And sits on her desk.

She wasn't called again for the rest of the day.

Chapter Text

“... So, can any of you point out to me what is wrong with this?”

“...Err… the color grading?”

“Yes! Tell me, do any of you have any idea how it will appear not only on a billboard but on a screen?”

“No?”

*Click!*

“Like this!”

Oscar has to control his chuckle as the room gets oddly silent at the simple, direct and extremely effective presentation. A single PowerPoint slide visibly shattering the minds of half a dozen old designers.

Nami was the youngest person in the room, besides him, by a decade or two, the short woman appearing half a foot taller as she explained in vivid details how the chosen colors and their tones would not only be ruined but express a very different feeling in computer and TV screens compared to traditional billboards.

It was obvious that not only the half a dozen old designers were not liking it, they were visibly bothered by it.

Meanwhile, the only other woman in the room had a small, sharp smile on her face, her eyes far away from the presentation and focusing wholeheartedly on the men present, she eyeing them the same way a cat would eye a cornered mouse.

Junko was a smart, scary and ambitious woman. And everyone in the room knew that.

But it wasn't enough to hold them.

“Ok, I understand it doesn't look good on computer screens, these damn things are changing all the time, but do you want us to not only change the colors, the grading, the aspect, basically redraw it all, but do it so for each kind of screen it will appear?” There was not only hostility in the voice but a present disbelief in it.

While he knew and even saw a couple of times how culture and relations change from branch to branch, it was still frankly absurd how different it was from the main branch in Tokyo. While even Tokyo was beholden to the general stiffness and refusal to change that was commonplace in Japanese work culture, his previous office still had an honest to God fax machine, the sheer dynamism and speed they had to work made it so that it was more flexible than it appeared.

This didn't happen in Mitakihara. While it wasn't located in a small town and wasn't a small branch, it had far too many old employees.

“Why not? It's your job.” Oscar says in a casual tone, with a smile on his face.

The mix of disbelief, shock and outrage at his comment almost made him chuckle.

Hook.

“And it's not a complicated thing either, gentlemen, I know some extensions for illustrator that halves the time wasted on these changes.” Nami complements almost immediately after, one of her hands mindlessly flicking her own hair.

Bait.

“We don't use Illustrator here, girl.” An annoyed man who clearly was wearing a wig, spits out.

Sinker.

“Why not? The company has had an official partnership and licensing agreement with it since 2008, if you don't use it, why is the company still paying for its fees for this branch?” He points out.

And with an almost telegraphed look, Oscar stares at Junko, whose eyes flashed with energy before she directs the purple orbs towards the manager of the small department, who was slowly understanding what was happening and was starting to visibly sweat.

“This is a good question, Mister Penrose… I didn't understand why I had to take part in this meeting beforehand, but I now see… I expect a full on report on why your department has not been using resources the company pays for, Mister Shiiden, by my desk at the evening.”

It was scary how passive and pleasant Junko's face was now. The purple haired businesswoman politely smiles at the increasingly pale manager before she stares at Nami.

Nami wasn't even hiding her smile.

“And Miss Yuu, how long do you think it will take to make these changes and make them ready for the marketing department?”

“Well, considering the time it will take with our current used software… Monday evening.”

Bullshit. Not even if Nami worked at home during the weekend she could manage it. It didn't matter if she used Illustrator or the Jurassic software they used here. But they didn't know that and they didn't need to know that.

“Good, if I don't hear anything from Marketing by tomorrow, I will need to have a conversation with Mister Shiiden in my office, at lunch time.” And with it the de facto representative of the Mitakihara Branch gets up and leaves the room.

Nami quickly finishes her presentation to a quiet, deaf audience, who stumbles out of the room in a panicked daze, not even bothering to look at her or him.

He felt a little bad for doing this with old men, but that was his job. And they were a pain.

“So, what do you think, babe?” Nami asks after the door is closed and she turns off the projector of the small meeting room, giving him a satisfied look and flicking her hair in victory.

“You were amazing, honey.” He promptly answers, making the woman roll her eyes and to open a smile.

“I know, I wasn't talking about that and you know it.”

Considering that today was Friday, they have been on the Mitakihara branch officially since this Monday and unofficially since last week's Wednesday. While the company had a fairly short transference procedure, it still took some time due to the state of the Mitakihara branch. It would probably have taken longer if Junko didn't speed it up on her end and his unofficial job made it faster on their end.

The same number of people that were happy about him leaving Tokyo were the same number that were happy that he went to Mitakihara.

“They will hold out for a month, maybe two, but they are old and tired. Just make it graceful and they will accept it.” Retirements were always a pain, forced ones were even worse.

“Don't think they will cause problems? They are a very tight group.” The recent, basically forced, addition to the Design department of the Mitakihara branch says with a bit of annoyance in her voice.

Oscar shrugs.

“Maybe at the start, but the first one that breaks will cause the rest to fall. For them it's more about the routine and the people than work itself, when they notice that they can play cards together or go fishing together, things will sort themselves out.” He felt like a cruel man saying these types of things, but not only were they true but part of his job. More of his unofficial job than his official one.

“Great, although I just know that training and contracting will be a pain.” Nami says, finishing packing up her stuff.

“Training, yes. Contracting, not so. HR is already searching and head hunting.” Oscar answers, shrugging when Nami raises an eyebrow at him.

“She really moves on quickly, huh.” It was an affirmation, not a question.

Junko was scary.

But she was on their side… kinda. She was too ambitious and too competent, only held back by her respect for the old man, the de jure representative of the Mitakihara branch, and the fact that this branch was one of the oldest, both in age and in personnel.

She needed the sudden, unexpected and disruptive to act. She needed them.

And they needed her.

For now.

*Ploft!*

“So, to which happy hour we shall go? I heard that the one Sales go has some good tempura.” Nami asks as she casually sits on his lap and stretches, looking tired.

Oscar stares at Nami for a couple of moments.

“Nami…”

She groans and pleads with her eyes.

“Come on, she can handle herself! She has done it already for a long while! We can have a night out for ourselves!”

Technically she was correct, but…

“Yes, we can, but it doesn't mean we should nor that we will. Plus her weekly return is tomorrow.”

…

Nami groans, curses under her breath but ends up nodding.

“Fine.”

…

*Sigh*

“I will cook today.” Oscar concedes, promptly receiving a hug and a small kiss from the woman.

“Yay!”

 

“Where have you been?”

“School.”

*SLAP!*

“School ended hours ago, I am not dumb.”

“...I was Busy.”

“Busy with who?”

“No one.”

*SLAP!*

“Bullshit.”

“Why do you pretend to even care?”

…

“...Dinner is ready.”

It was ridiculous that this was, always, the best way to pick up the attention of the girl and the woman. But both stop with their usual routine at the entrance and look at him.

“Oh, the chicken is already done, great!” Nami says, promptly turning her back to the girl and walking towards the kitchen, taking a moment to give him a quick peck on his cheek before continuing.

He was used to her 180⁰. He even likes them. But at times, it overwhelmed him.

“...ok.” Homura says, giving him a small nod and mindlessly flicking her hair with her free hand, the left side of her face was painfully red, but her voice sounded cold. She was still with her uniform, carrying her bag, looking as usual as ever.

She promptly moves toward her room, acting as if it, everything, was normal. Because it was.

It still didn't feel real that that girl was Homura Akemi. The Homura Akemi.

“Don't take long, food will get cold.”

She doesn't acknowledge him as she enters her room, the simple wooden door looking both invisible and absurd due to the white void surrounding it as it closes.

Oscar sighs and starts to walk back towards the kitchen, crossing the white void that was the house's main room and passing by the clock shaped table and sofas, right below the massive clock mechanism that dropped out of the ceiling, the main room looking more like an avant garde art exhibition with its mix of white walls, camouflaged display and primitive hologram technology.

Because it was.

Oscar admits it made far too much sense when he discovered that the surprisingly large house Homura lived in was originally an art exhibition turned home by its creator, he being one of local visionaries that spawned Mitakihara’s unique art and architecture. The guy apparently designed the middle school, some churches and some other buildings around the city.

He killed himself in the main room a year or so ago, hanging himself by the clock mechanism.

It explained how cheap the rent was.

“Hmmm! Really hit it with the spices, babe.” Nami says, already sitting on the head of the table and taking a bite off from one of the chicken skewers he prepared.

The kitchen was surprisingly big, even if he found it barely stocked when they arrived. Thankfully it had a table for them to eat, most general appliances, and what utensils he and Nami brought from his apartment were more than enough for either he or Nami to cook with. The only major problem with it was the horrendous white and red diamond shaped wallpaper.

“Still can't reach your katsudon, honey.” Oscar comments as he picks up some beers and some juice from the fridge and puts it on the table. Nami gives a small look to the juice but smirks at him and flickers her hair.

“Heh, I know.”

They have a comfortable meal, talking, eating and drinking some beers, with Nami finishing first while Oscar eats slower than usual, waiting.

She arrives when he is almost done and Nami was almost bored from waiting for him. The girl wears a simple but frilly black dress, giving both adults a simple look before sitting on the table, to the left of the woman. Nami gives the girl a short look, a sneer and promptly ignores her while Oscar gives her a look and a nod as he sees herself serving her food.

She nods back and gets eating.

…

She nods again after taking a bite from the chicken skewer.

Homura was weird. He understood she was, it made sense she was. But still, having Homura Akemi around on his daily routine was something the man struggled to even process.

She didn't speak much, stayed in the house even less and generally tried to act as if he and Nami weren't there. A thing that Nami did too, except when she didn't.

The only sort of interaction they had was during breakfast, during dinner and whenever Homura arrived at home.

*BAM!*

Most of these interactions weren't the best.

“Hey! No saying graces or even a “thank you” for the food? Did you even learn some manners on St. Teresa?” Nami sneers after hitting the table, giving a glare at the silent girl. After 3 beers, she was starting to get drunk.

Homura went to the St. Teresa of Avila girl's school in Tokyo for most of her life, a small boarding school that apparently had very good medical services. Apparently Nami went to the same school when she was younger but, just like Homura, she refused to talk about it.

Funnily, neither were Catholic.

“Did you?” Homura quietly answers, not even taking her eyes off her plate.

Oscar knew exactly what would happen. It was basically part of their daily routine.

But today was Friday.

“How was school today?” He asks, taking a sip from his beer.

Both girl and woman stares at him with a mix of confusion, disbelief and annoyance.

“Fine?” Homura answers with a mix of caution and confusion, giving him a look before going back to her food. Strangely, she didn't seem as confident as he expected of her.

He saw, in the first days he and Nami were in the house and the first day after what happened on the hospital that Homura was visibly in a bad state. She was now… better?

Oscar wasn't sure.

“Oh really? Good, then that stupid school meeting will be quick.” Nami comments, already feeling stressed out by the meeting of next week. The woman being more stressed by this than most of her work meetings.

The girl doesn't answer her, but she doesn't need it.

Before she finishes, Nami starts to take the food out of the table and organize it within containers on the fridge, she is very good at it. When the girl finishes he takes out the dishes and puts them on the sink, the girl promptly going to wash them.

Somehow, this was the most and only harmonious thing they all could do in the house.

“Hmmm, do you think that we will still manage to catch an episode of Castle?” Nami asks as she takes out their last beers out of the fridge, she now being visibly tipsy.

Oscar takes a moment to remember the TV programming of the day and to silent curse the lack of streaming in this world, he misses the convenience.

“Maybe, but we already missed the first game.”

“Meh, the first is always the most boring.” Nami declares and leaves the kitchen, going towards their room, beers in hand.

Oscar gives a final look towards the girl now quietly washing the dishes. Homura Akemi was washing the dishes of the dinner he made. What the fuck.

“We will be going to our room, goodnight.”

She doesn't answer back.

He follows Nami, quickly arriving at the big room that they made their room, it still being a mess, with some boxes and mismatched decorations hanging around. They actually had time to fix it up and tide it up, but neither did it. It already had their bed, a good TV he brought from the apartment and a good wardrobe. It was enough for both of them.

For now.

Plus the wallpaper was tolerable, a simple monochromatic diamond pattern.

“Hey, babe?” Nami starts, laying down on their bed, her tattoos jumping out due to their white sheets, especially as she starts to comb her hair with her fingers.

“What?” Oscar continues, picking up the TV remote, turning it on and laying besides his girlfriend. He starts to search for the correct channel, mindlessly extending his hand towards the unopened beer on Nami's hand.

Only for her to take it back as he gets close, her face suddenly becoming serious.

“Listen to me.”

The man stops, giving her a confused look.

“What?”

Nami sighs and gives him a quick peck on his lips, pushing the beer onto his hand and her body onto his.

“You are being nice, you are trying a lot and that's cute and all, but trust me babe…”

“Don't bother.”

Chapter Text

“Big sis no like tomatoe!”

“Errr… Thanks?”

“Hehehe!”

Madoka can't help herself but smiles as Tatsuya celebrates, running around her. The small boy who was loving the fact that her broken nose made her face easily look very red and swollen thankfully celebrating the fact that her face wasn't that much red and swollen anymore.

It still hurt, but after two weeks and a freshly made, smaller sized bandaging change done on the hospital, she could say it was way better than before.

“Hey love, hey Madoka, how was it at the hospital?” Her mom says from the sofa, the businesswoman wearing some lazy, house clothes waving at them briefly before returning her eyes to her laptop. In front of her, the ground was littered with Tatsuya's toys.

“Pretty normal, just traffic that has been a bit of pain, darling.” Her dad comments as he takes his shoes off and takes a moment to organize the shoe pile at the entrance, carefully eyeing Tatsuya as he runs awfully close to it.

“The nurse was very nice and they told me my nose is healing very well! They think I won't have any scars!” Madoka comments, taking her shoes off and helping her dad before picking Tatsuya up and going towards her mom.

She didn't tell her that the nurse informed herself that while her healing was proceeding greatly, her nose would be slightly misaligned forever. Or until she did some kind of plastic surgery. She didn't want to bother her mom with it and didn't want to think much about it.

It didn't matter.

“Hmmmm! Great news for your secret admirers! Although having a scar could have expanded the range of secret admirers you would have…” The woman starts to ponder seriously as Madoka joins her on the sofa and sets Tatsuya on the ground, the small boy quickly returning to his toys.

“I don't think boys like girls with scars.” Madoka says shyly.

“...Your mind is still too narrow, my daughter.” Junko says, shaking her head, as if she was some kind of old martial arts mentor.

The girl was ready to further question her mom but was interrupted by her dad approaching them, already wearing his classic kitchen apron.

“I will be making chicken skewers today, can you help me, Madoka?” The tall, kind man asks.

“Chicken! Chicken!” Tatsuya declares, throwing some of his toys around, Junko expertly dodging her laptop off their way.

“Sure, dad!” Madoka says, chuckling as she gets up and evades the onslaught of various toys and cubes. Quickly joining her dad in the kitchen.

She cut some vegetables as the kind man cuts the chicken slices, seasons and spices them, carefully putting them in wooden sticks together with the vegetables she was cutting.

…

It still was weird at times. Spending a lazy Saturday with her family, cooking with her dad, talking with her mom, playing with Tatsuya. It all felt so weird but so right at the same time. Like it was some kind of dream, but a dream that she spent so much time into, it felt like reality.

Except that this wasn’t a dream, this was her reality. A weird and strange reality brought forward by her friends and their fight.

“How 's Sayaka? She hasn't come here in a long while.” Her dad asks as he takes out the rice cooker and starts to prepare the rice.

“She's been good, a bit busy lately.”

She casually commented on Thursday that her patrols were calm, too calm, lately. Sayaka never told her that she returned to her patrols.

“Oh my, so she finally got her heart healed from that boy?” Her mom asks from the sofa.

“I think?”

Madoka still remembers that faithful night and her mom's words. Not only did she need to make some mistakes to save a friend, but at times she needed to be harsh and truthful to save the ones that didn't want to be saved.

She didn't think much about it at the time, things simply went too fast, but it was a miracle that she and Kyoko managed to find Sayaka on that metro and stop her. Her soul gem was as black as the night. She was just a small, short step away from witching out.

None knew how many grief seeds Kyoko spent to save Sayaka, but the brazen red head didn't care, so why should her?

“Red one! Red one!” Tatsuya suddenly declares as if he was reading her mind.

“Oh! Yeah, that redhead… Sakura, I think? You never spoke of her again and she never appeared again.”

It was still baffling to her that her dad and Tatsuya independently met Kyoko one day, when Kyoko was still pretty hostile with Sayaka and weird around Mami. They apparently helped each other and her dad invited Kyoko for dinner as a reward, with Kyoko obviously accepting it. Madoka missed the scene due to a witch that took way more time than Sayaka and Mami expected.

She managed to meet Kyoko when she was leaving her house, a scene that at the time almost gave her a heart attack and made things simultaneously awkward and better between themselves.

“O-oh! She had to go back to her city, but I think she might return someday!”

By what Mami implied, Kyoko leaving was just a temporary thing. Madoka wished she spoke more with Kyoko to know if it was true or not.

“Good, I was worried she was missing school or was some kind of vagrant!” Her dad declares as the rice starts to cook.

Madoka opens a smile. Her nose flares up in pay.

She wasn’t lying. But she wasn't telling the truth either. Well, she wasn't telling anything either… ugh.

“Hmpf, look who is talking? Do not speak ill of vagrants, vagabonds and the delinquents, my love.” Her mom promptly speaks from the sofa, making her dad choke up and chuckle awkwardly.

“Never, my darling, never.”

Sometimes, her parents were very weird.

But these times are brief, with her and her dad continuing to cook, both slowly working to make the lunch for their family. Of course her dad did most of it and the most important stuff, but she felt good by helping, even if just a little.

As the cooking progresses, her dad tasks her with making some tea for him and her mom, this being a weird habit they had at times. But Madoka does so anyway, using some of the tea leaves Mami gifted her after the hospital witch.

She did nothing important, her scream of “look out” being a subconscious thing. Although she flinches just by thinking of what might have happened instead if she didn't call Mami and the blonde haired magical girl didn't hastily evade that witch.

“Ohhh! What a good smell, where did you get those leaves, Madoka?” Her mom asks as the teapot starts to steam.

“The upperclassmen that I am friends with, Mami, gifted them to me!”

“What a good gift! I already like this girl, when will you bring her here?” Her mom asks after inhaling the nice smell of the tea.

Madoka blinks.

Her parents didn't know Mami? But…

Oh! Yeah! They weren't at home the time Mami escorted her there. And she didn't stand around for long either. She never noticed that! How could she do that!?

“O-oh! I will speak with her at the school, maybe she can come for dinner some day! She has a busy schedule” Madoka answers with a small, nervous smile. She barely spoke with Mami this last week, doing so more because they stumbled upon each other at school rather than on purpose. She wasn't patrolling with Sayaka.

“You have a lot of busy friends, huh.” Her mom comments, giving her a short look before returning to her laptop.

W-well, she wasn't wrong, it's just that…

“Big sis girl friend! Where sis friendgirl?”

…

Her dad laughs.

Her mom laughs.

She can feel her face burning up so much she can't even feel the pain of her nose!

TATSUYA!

“My boy! This isn't the type of thing you can ask!” Her dad says to the now confused boy, barely managing throughout his laugh.

“No, no, this is the exact type of thing that can be asked! What happened to that girl you talked so much about… The one you were dying to bring home… Tamura? No… Homura!” Her still chuckling mom asks, eyes focused on her laptop.

…

Her dad suddenly chokes up, his face rapidly contorting into a worried, almost panicked look as the man suddenly remembers what she could never forget. The kind man looked at her with a mix of worry and regret.

She begged him to not tell her mom what happened that day in the hospital room, worrying what her mother would do if she discovered what happened. Madoka not knowing if she was more worried for Homura or for herself. So he didn't tell her mom what happened. And thankfully, she was too busy to even question it.

It made her feel horrible, but this time, she had to do it.

“She is going through something lately so we couldn't talk much…” She wasn't lying, at all, but she still felt like a bad person.

“Oh? Really? Well, this is more of a reason to have her around, she seemed to be such a lonely young girl.” Her mom says with a frown, looking right to Madoka.

She freezes.

Oh no. Oh no! W-what she could do now? She couldn't tell her mom the truth! That Homura… Homura…

“Mama! Mama! Rider! Rider!” Tatsuya suddenly declares, frantically looking around the sofa and the room.

“Oh, did you lose your bug man again?” Her mom is instantly distracted by it, putting her laptop away to help the boy look for his figure.

Madoka sees her Dad flinch at the “bug man” part, but the kind man sighs in relief and gives her a look, getting closer to her.

“Do you have some news on her, Madoka?” Her dad asks in a small tone, looking a bit guilty.

“She is… fine.”

The man opens a smile of relief and nods in conspiracy before going back to his cooking.

She wasn't lying, but she felt her skin pickling with guilt and her nose hurting as she remembers that she barely interacted with Homura. What started first as fear and trauma slowly turned into a weird mix of strangeness and confusion.

Visibly, Homura looked way better than last Wednesday. At times she looked a bit more unkempt than before, but not by much. In her class, in her school there was a lot of people now like her, people that lost someone or something.

It made her heart ache.

Still, Homura was different now. She felt much more… lost? Hesitant? She either didn't answer or answered extremely incorrectly questions in class, she barely took part in activities, didn't speak with either her, Sayaka or Mami. She wasn't the Homura she knew beforehand.

She could understand that Homura didn't want to speak with her or couldn't speak with her after… Well, everything. Madoka felt she too needed some time. But… But everyone else? What about the quartet? She thought that they were friends… or at least some kind of witch hunting group?

But Sayaka was patrolling alone, so was Mami and… maybe Homura too? She didn't know.

Something happened on that victorious day and Madoka felt that no one truly knew what it was and how to deal with it.

It felt wrong.

…

They continue to cook, finishing it shortly after. Madoka and her family eating together Saturday's lunch as was normal for them. Her dad's food was amazing, his chicken skewer being super yummy and so well seasoned!

Her mom spoke about how things were going in the company and how two new arrivals from Tokyo were helping her a lot in shaking things up, her dad spoke of his garden and how his plants were developing. Tatsuya played around and made a bit of a mess himself but was having a nice day.

And Madoka…

She had fun.

After everything, after the wrongness of it all, it felt good having a normal lunch with her family.

“Hey, Madoka?” Her mom says after putting the last dishes on the sink, the girl getting ready to do her duty and clean the dishes herself.

“Mom?”

“Why won't you and that girl Homura go for a movie one of these days?” The savvy businesswoman says in a way that was more of an order than a question or even a suggestion.

…

Madoka is completely speechless, staring at her mom like if she suddenly grew a head and was reciting Alice in the Wonderland.

What???

“L-Like a date?” She stammers out, her brain crashing out.

The woman laughs.

“If you say so… but it would be good for you to have a day to relax and unwind, I have seen that you have been very tense lately… and not only because of your nose.” Her mom gives her a knowing look and a smile as Madoka breaks the gaze and starts to look around nervously. The woman chuckles and gives her a small rub on her back.

“You are still young! Go wear a cute dress, mindless walk around a shopping mall, eat some really greasy food, watch a bad movie and spend a good time with a friend! These are the type of things that will count as you grown old!” The woman says in a supportive, nice tone, giving her child a smile.

W-well, she kinda misses doing stuff with Sayaka and Hitomi… when was the last time they went to a snack bar? Or shopping around for some CDs? Or even just walked around the shopping district close to her school?

And she never did this type of stuff with Mami either, did she? They drank some tea and had some sweets but…

She had her obligations as a magical girl, as did Sayaka and even Homura. Could she be narcissistic enough to demand time of them that could be better spend protecting the city and hunting witches? She was just herself!

She wasn't even a magical girl! How could she ask this type of stuff from her friends! How egocentric, narcissistic, selfish she…

“Oh! This would be a great idea! I am sure that Homura would feel a lot better if she could spend an afternoon with a friend!” Her dad says, interjecting and completely shattering her self loathing. He had a smile on his face but his eyes were serious as he stared at her.

She understood his message.

Madoka inhales.

Madoka exhales.

Well, there were now 3 magical girls in Mitakihara… so…

“I-I will think about it.”