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Chapter Text

PROLOG IM FEGEFEUER

TIMELINE X+N+54

A peaceful spring had descended upon Karakura Town. It was a welcome relief to the inhabitants of the Urahara Shop. Their major project to counter Xcution's sinister supernatural plotting had been successfully resolved mere months before. All the supernaturally aware residents of Karakura had breathed a collective sigh of relief and found themselves able to relax and enjoy the budding and blossoming of trees and flowers. True, they would never be free of Hollows, but individual Hollows were much less stressful than predatory conspiracies. Simple Hollow hunting was like a vacation compared to the threats orchestrated by Sōsuke Aizen and Xcution.

One of these calm spring days two weeks into the new school year found Jinta Hanakiri and Ururu Tsumugiya in the courtyard of Urahara Shop, as usual. Neither had bothered to change out of their school uniforms. Life had gone back to normal for them, which is to say Ururu was dutifully sweeping the path while Jinta acted out and narrated an imaginary baseball game in which he led his team to victory. Both stopped and looked up when someone entered the courtyard.

A girl with long dark hair stood primly at the entrance to the yard. She appeared to be a middle schooler, but her uniform was unfamiliar to Jinta and Ururu— a cream jacket, red bow, and black and white plaid skirt worn with black leggings. The girl stared at them for a moment, then approached the shop with a measured pace.

Ururu smiled blandly. “Welcome to Urahara Shop. Can I get anything for you? Today we have a sale on imported candy.”

The girl stopped a couple yards from the shop entrance. “No, thank you,” she replied in a cool voice. “I would like to speak with the owner, please.”

Ururu blinked. Before she could answer, Tessai's mountainous form leaned out the door. “May I ask what about, Miss?”

The girl shifted her gaze to him, unruffled. “Personal business.”

Tessai cocked his head to one side and sized her up. Not recognizing her but sensing that she was more than the average human, he asked, “And who shall I tell him is calling?”

The girl ran a hand through her hair and tossed it over her shoulder. “Homura Akemi.”

“All right. Please, do come in.”

Tessai led Homura into the shop, ushered her to a table in the room behind the stock room, served her tea, and disappeared into the depths of the building. Jinta and Ururu found excuses to clean the stock room to eavesdrop on the mysterious stranger wanted. Homura just sat neatly and stared at her teacup between sips.

Ten minutes later, Kisuke Urahara breezed into the room, Tessai at his heels, and cheerfully began, “Good afternoon, Miss Akemi! Lovely day, isn't it?”

Homura blinked up at him and set down her empty cup. She folded her hands in her lap. “I suppose so, Mr. Urahara.”

Urahara seated himself across from Homura with a manic grin as Tessai refilled Homura's teacup and served his employer before backing away. The shopkeeper peered at her over the rim of his teacup. “So! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Miss Akemi?”

Homura shifted slightly. Urahara noted her fists clenched and unclenched. “I have collected the data you requested and am here to submit it for study.”

Urahara raised an eyebrow curiously. “Thank you very much, Miss Akemi. What data would that be?”

Homura picked up her teacup again and solemnly stared at Urahara over it. “The data you requested in an effort to save the lives of the Kurosaki sisters from a threat that went unnoticed while you were distracted by their brother.” She calmly sipped her tea. A scuffling noise came from the stock room.

Urahara froze, mind racing. He rapidly considered and discarded possibilities, then lowered his head and peered out at Homura from the shadow of the brim of his hat. “And how could I have requested such data from you when I am unaware of any threat and don't recall ever meeting you?”

Homura lowered her teacup and locked eyes with him. She tucked her hair behind one ear and bluntly replied, “Just because this is the first time you have met me does not mean that I have not met another you.”

Urahara stared. In the silence, they could hear Jinta's muffled voice declare, “That makes no goddamn sense.”

Several moments passed as Urahara thought. Homura merely sipped her tea. Finally, Urahara leaned toward her and slowly asked, “When did you meet me, then?”

Serene, Homura answered, “Five weeks from now.”

Urahara quirked one eyebrow. “Five weeks ago?”

Homura shook her head slightly. “No, roughly five weeks from today. Late April. The day the Tenth Division Captain has arranged to begin his survey of his division's assigned districts in this region, starting with Naruki City. His goal is to ensure the density of shinigami he is assigning to cover the area is adequate. He contacted you to arrange for supplies two days ago.”

Urahara sat back and stared at her for a long time. The girl patiently bore his scrutiny.

Finally, Urahara tipped his hat to her and grimly said, “It seems we have much to talk about, Miss Time-Traveler.”

Homura inclined her head in agreement. “Quite.”

Chapter Text

EINS

TIMELINE X+N

Homura stood on a catwalk in a building under construction across from Mitakihara's central train station. A haunting maritime symphony still echoed in her head; ghostly violinists danced across her eyes. She stared numbly at the wall where the entrance to the Mermaid Witch's labyrinth had just melted away in the dying sunlight. The sharp ping of the Witch's Grief Seed bouncing on the catwalk dispelled the final strains of the ominous melody. After a moment, Homura bent and picked it up.

Too late again. Always too late. Or wrong. Or both, this time.

She had not expected this timeline's Kyōko to care enough about Sayaka to want to save her. Had not expected this Kyōko to have enough idealism to even consider the possibility. Had definitely not expected Kyōko to drag Madoka with her on her fool's errand. Was absolutely shocked to enter the haunted, inverted concert hall only to witness Kyōko launching a suicide attack at the Mermaid Witch, in whose armored hand Homura had mere moments to see Madoka's crushed, bloodied body. Homura had only begun to comprehend the magnitude of her failure when the labyrinth crumbled around her, awash in ruby light.

None of this had happened in other timelines, so what had she missed this time? Her manipulation of time didn't allow for her to be everywhere at once, so she had no idea what Kyōko and Sayaka had gotten up to. Most frustrating was the fact that she would be unable to find out— after all, everyone she could ask was dead.

This time Homura had managed to let everyone else die ten entire days before Walpurgisnacht's descent. Homura looked down at the shield attached to her left wrist and the purple glint of the Soul Gem on her hand. She had ten entire days' worth of sand left in her shield's sand timer. Ten entire days before the sand timer could reverse and send her back to the beginning. She had ten entire days to wander around Mitakihara and reflect on her failure and plan for the next timeline while the city taunted her with memories of what once was.

Unbearable.

That would be unbearable.

While there were multiple timelines in which Mami, Kyōko, and Sayaka didn't survive until the end, never before had she approached Walpurgisnacht with Madoka already dead. Fresh grief and ten days to reflect on her failure... no. She would despair. The futility of facing Walpurgisnacht in this timeline would drag her down and turn her into a Witch before she could save Madoka in the next timeline. Homura couldn't allow that to happen.

With halting steps, Homura turned from the wall and wandered back across the catwalk. Plodded down the stairs instead of hopping down. Aimlessly left the construction site and roamed the train switchyard. Blankly stared at the sky as a commuter train roared past her and disheveled her hair in the last of the twilight.

Generally, Homura disapproved of whims. Impulsiveness had proven too deadly for her to do much without forethought. But the rising need to get away from Mitakihara consumed her. She couldn't bear to see Madoka's empty desk at school. Couldn't bear the inevitable media furor that would arise when Madoka was reported missing, Mami's disappearance was finally noticed, and Sayaka's corpse was discovered wherever Kyōko had stashed it. Couldn't bear the cheerfully accusatory faces of her friends staring out at her from missing persons posters. Couldn't bear that there would be no posters for Kyōko, as there was no one left to miss her. So, on reflection, it wasn't terribly surprising that Homura lifted her shield, stopped time, staggered her way to the passing train, and jumped onto its roof. She flopped down on the cold metal and automatically secured herself with magic. Time resumed with a click. Scenery rushed by in a blur before Homura's dull eyes.

She didn't particularly care where the train took her as long as it wasn't Mitakihara.

Chapter Text

ZWEI

TIMELINE X+N

Homura had a warped relationship with the flow of time. It played tricks on her sometimes in ways the less-rational part of her mind considered revenge for her manipulations. Morosely perched upon the train, Homura ceded all control and let time do with her what it would. She passively drifted along with time as the train charged through it, watching the constellations appear and shift as the wind and wheels roared in her ears. Many stops barely registered to her. Homura finally blinked back to reality when a regular stop stretched on unusually long and the sound of men arguing drifted up to her.

Glad for something new to focus on, Homura climbed to her feet and stealthily hopped along the cars until she reached the engine, where the arguing was loudest.

“You're not listening. I'm telling you, the computer is saying we're scheduled to be here until midnight, but that's obviously wrong.”

“Obviously. Are you sure you tried to override it?”

“Yes! I told you five times already! The system shut down the train and won't let me re-start it!”

“Maybe you should let me try. It's been a long shift, eh?”

“Are you saying you think I'm too tired to know what I'm doing?!”

“Not exactly—”

“I could do this in my sleep! But something is wrong with the scheduling program! You should be able to see it on the station terminal, too!”

A deep sigh. “Right, right. Let me look at it.”

The men withdrew into the train, their bickering growing muffled as they went deeper into the engine.

Homura cocked her head curiously. After a moment, she shrugged and reached up to push her hair away from her face.

Her Soul Gem ring was glowing.

Adrenaline flooded her body. She sharply surveyed the train station, then slowly spun and swept her bejeweled hand around her like a compass needle. The Soul Gem glowed the brightest when she faced the train station proper. The magical girl frowned and gracefully descended from the train car. She flitted from corner to corner like a phantom thief, largely concealed by the purples and blacks of her costume. The glowing Soul Gem led Homura to the main electronic schedule display board. Her eyes narrowed. There: a momentary flicker. Homura brandished her Soul Gem, prompting the appearance of an orange sigil shaped like a pumpkin with a clock face overlapping stylized butterfly wings. Homura scowled and passed through the portal.

The labyrinth was new to her, though it reminded her of the initial appearance of the Mermaid Witch's labyrinth when she had first transformed. There were haphazard train tracks and tunnels zigzagging about. Industrial wreckage littered every horizontal surface that did not host rails. A multitude of clocks adorned every vertical surface, causing an echoing cacophony of asynchronous ticking. This nightmare world didn't have the heavy sense of presence that a true labyrinth held, so it likely only housed a Familiar. No matter; Homura could stand to vent by shooting up an inconsequential enemy. She drew a gun and used her Soul Gem to choose the best train track to follow.

As she wove through the maze of tracks and tunnels, the sound of battle drew her attention and gradually grew louder. So another magical girl had beaten her to the punch. Homura paused, considered leaving, and decided to continue for lack of anything else to do. Soon, she emerged into what appeared to be a large subway station studded with clocks, the floor covered in scattered wreckage and pumpkins of varying sizes. The familiar was plainly visible on a far platform. It was a scarecrow the size of a man with a gigantic turnip for a head. It was dressed as a train conductor. A whistle was jammed into the turnip where a mouth would be on a human face. The whole thing topped off its surreality with a pair of glimmering fairy wings on its back. A shrill burst of sound from its whistle knocked back not one but two magical girls, one clothed in red and the other in yellow.

Homura would have preferred to find magical girls wearing different colors. Like green. Or perhaps brown. Red, yellow, blue, and pink were heavy colors for her. Especially pink. Thank everything neither of them wore pink. She could handle red and yellow, in comparison.

The two girls recovered admirably, vaulting in different directions. They executed what appeared to be a practiced move: The yellow-clad girl lashed out and ensnared the Familiar's legs with a golden whip and yanked. When the Familiar fell, the red-clad girl rushed in and slashed it with a katana. The fairy scarecrow shattered like glass and the labyrinth began to waver out of existence.

The girl in yellow threw her hands up and cheered happily. The girl in red grinned and high-fived her partner, then noticed Homura standing against the far wall of the deserted train station terminal. Homura had to give the girl credit— she snapped into seriousness and took a defensive pose in the blink of an eye. Her partner instantly went on alert, too, despite apparent confusion.

Homura stood passively as the red-clad girl with dark hair and eyes stared at her suspiciously. After a moment, Homura made a show of putting her gun in her shield, spread her arms slightly, palms forward, and neutrally called out, “I do not intend to attack you. I apologize for the intrusion. I was traveling and did not realize the situation was under control.”

The yellow-clad girl relaxed. Her red-clad companion lowered her blade but remained wary. Homura took a moment to glance around the empty train station. The previously glitched electronic schedule board declared the time to be 9:17 PM. The next train wasn't scheduled to appear until 10 PM. That explained the lack of people. Homura returned her gaze to the new magical girls. The girl in red opened her mouth to speak but stopped and glanced to the side when loud steps echoed along the tile hall, accompanied by male voices.

“The train conductors,” Homura announced. She stared the wary girl in the eye and released her power, allowing her school uniform to replace her magical girl costume. After a beat, the other two girls followed suit, each wearing matching school uniforms. They were still staring at each other when the two uniformed men who Homura had overheard arguing turned a corner and crossed the far end of the room. The three girls silently watched the two men bicker about glitches and technical support. One stopped suddenly as his mobile device beeped.

“Oh, now it works?”

“Eh? The reset went through or something?”

“Damned if I know. System says it's ready to go now. What the hell is with this town, Hatori? Something goes wrong with my train whenever I come through here. It's like the place is jinxed.”

“Well, weird things do happen in Karakura. You get used to it. Just get back on your train and get on with your life. No big deal.”

“Tch. Easy to say when you're not the one who's going to get chewed out for being late.”

“Then get back on your train and go before you run later. God, you're such a—”

The girls watched the men separate and stood silently until they heard the muffled sounds of the train pulling out of the station. The brunette who had worn the yellow costume started slightly and turned to Homura.

“Oh! Was that your train?”

Homura turned to the girl. She found the brunette looking concerned while her black-haired companion's face had settled into deadpan boredom. After a moment, Homura realized the girl expected an answer. “I suppose.”

“Tch.” The dark-haired girl tossed her ponytail and stretched her arms. “You suppose that was your train?”

The brunette pouted. “Karin!”

“Yeah, yeah, Yuzu.” Karin waved a hand dismissively before locking both hands behind her head, elbows up in the air. With bland skepticism, she drawled, “So you're traveling and don't mind missing your train? Where are you going?”

Homura stared, then carelessly answered, “Nowhere in particular.”

Karin raised her brows dubiously and drew breath to speak. The brunette beat her to it, glaring her into silence as she tried to enforce politeness. Yuzu turned to look at Homura and earnestly said, “I understand if you want to keep that secret. We've only met one other magical girl and—” she faltered— “I can understand if you don't want us to be able to follow you. But you look kind of lost and tired, so if you tell us where you want to go, we can help you. We don't want any more territory than we have. Karakura is enough for us.”

Homura frowned. “I appreciate your offer, but I really do not have any destination in mind.”

Yuzu looked confused. Karin raised a brow. “So, what? You hopped on a train to see where it'd take you?”

“I suppose.”

Karin's eye twitched. Yuzu frowned and stepped closer to Homura. She cocked her head and asked, “Why would you do that?”

Homura's first inclination was to remain silent. To pull her mysterious disappearing act and run away. But there wasn't another train to hop on and she didn't know where she was. And, as Yuzu had observed, she was tired. So tired. And those concerned brown eyes... they were the wrong color, but the expression reminded her of Mado—

“My friends were killed by a Witch today,” Homura blurted.

This was why she was so quiet these days. As soon as she spoke the words, made the whole situation real, the grief overwhelmed her careful mental barriers. Tears welled up in her eyes. She sniffed. She fought it. Tried to stifle a sob. Trembled with the force of it.

Karin and Yuzu's eyes widened as their faces paled.

Homura clenched her fists so tightly her nails bit into her palms. “They went to fight it without me. When I got there— when I got there—” The thing that had been Sayaka had killed her best friend, Madoka had been a macabre rag doll, and Kyōko had initiated self-immolation. And here she had thought she had hardened her heart against the miserable fates of everyone but Madoka. She had been fooling herself. Still, though Sayaka's fall and Kyōko's sacrifice hurt, Madoka's umpteenth death was agony. Tears ran down her face and she sobbed once. Homura pressed her hands over her mouth and bent toward the ground to hide her face. She heard a few quick footsteps then found herself wrapped in a warm embrace.

“I'm so sorry,” Yuzu's voice wobbled. Homura could feel the other girl's wet cheek press against her ear. A girl she had just met was crying for her. “That's horrible. That must— that must— you must feel—Oh, I'm so sorry.”

The two girls held one another and cried for a few minutes while Karin hovered nearby, awkward and concerned. The crying girls were oblivious to a security guard whose patrol took him near them. He eyed the girls then raised a brow at Karin in search of an explanation.

“Uh, our... friend, ah, got some bad news. Um, a death. So we're...” Karin shrugged and looked at her sister and the stranger helplessly. Homura appreciated the cover-up.

The security guard's face went solemn. “Ah.” He glanced at the schedule board clock. “If you'd prefer privacy, you might want to find a more out-of-the-way place. The last of the commuter trains from up north will be showing up soon.”

“Oh, uh, thank you, sir.” Karin sketched a quick bow and bit her lip. After the guard moved on, she stepped forward and gently took both girls by their shoulders. “Come on, let's go somewhere else.”

Chapter Text

DREI

TIMELINE X+N

For once, Homura passively allowed herself to be led. Yuzu sniffled and hooked her arm in Homura's to guide her along behind Karin as they left the train station. Homura was too tired to pay much attention to landmarks or where they were going; somehow, they ended up at a park bench under a street lamp near some vending machines. Yuzu sat on the bench with Homura and fussed over her while Karin fetched drinks for them. When Homura had calmed enough to hold her drink, the three sat in silence and watched the fluttering shadows of moths as they drank.

At length, Karin stood up and focused on Homura, face hard and angry, eyes betraying her more tender emotions as she brandished a fist. “Do you need any backup to nail that Witch?”

Homura looked up in surprise. Both girls were staring at her with fire in their eyes, angry on her behalf as though the death of any magical girl was a grave offense even if they had not known the deceased. It was heartwarming and disgustingly naïve at the same time.

Homura sat straighter and absently brushed the tears from her cheeks, regaining her composure. When she felt she could speak in an even voice, she coolly replied, “That will not be necessary.”

Both girls frowned hard.

“Hey,” Karin snapped, “if it got your friends when they were working together, how do you think you're going to handle it by yourself?”

Yuzu looked like she wanted to scold Karin but couldn't really disagree with her. She fisted her hands in her uniform skirt. Worried, she implored Homura, “Please let us help you. It must be a dangerous Witch if it defeated your friends. If we work together, we can make sure it doesn't k-kill any more magical girls who try to fight it.”

Homura tossed her hair over her shoulder and smoothed her skirt. “No, really, that will not be necessary.” As the girls began to object again, she curled her free hand into a fist then opened it to reveal the Mermaid Witch's Grief Seed. The two girls snapped their mouths shut.

“You got it?” whispered Karin.

“No,” Homura said dully. “When I got there, my... my best friend was dead, and... my other... friend hit the Witch with a suicide attack. The labyrinth was gone before I could do anything.” Instead of looking at the girls, she stared at the Grief Seed. The silver musical staff against its onyx center had a simple elegance. Homura vaguely noted that she had never heard the music made by the boy Sayaka had traded her soul for. She wondered if hearing him play would make her want to break his hands. He complicated the timelines so much sometimes.

The gravitas of the moment was interrupted by the most annoying ringtone Homura had ever heard. She looked up as Karin rummaged about and pulled out her phone. “Ah, we're late, Goat-Face is probably looking for us.” She fiddled with the device and read the text message. Her eye twitched in irritation. “God, why so many emojis? And... fifteen question marks? Ugh.” She lowered her voice and muttered to herself, “Achievement unlocked. I need to find a more annoying ringtone to match.” The device trilled again. Karin bared her teeth. “Oh my God, yes, I'm replying, shut up!” Her fingers danced over the touch screen as she growled.

Homura stared at Karin strangely. “Goat... Face...?”

Yuzu laughed awkwardly. “That's what Karin calls our dad. He's... kind of eccentric.”

“Pshh. Understatement of the century,” grumbled Karin.

Homura raised her eyebrows. “You are sisters?”

Yuzu grinned. “Yep! Karin and Yuzu Kurosaki, Twin Champions of Love and Justice!” She struck a pose, holding a V-for-victory sign over an adorable wink.

Karin rolled her eyes powerfully. “We aren't characters on Sailor Moon, Yuzu.”

Yuzu pouted. “But you're the Mars to my Venus! We even have the right colors!” She glanced aside and mumbled, “Close enough.”

Karin scoffed. “If I was Sailor Mars I'd go all Medieval and burn the Witches with a snap so I could have more time for important things. Like playing video games and siccing my magic space-crows on Goat-Face.”

Yuzu's pout turned childishly grumpy. “You're no fun, Karin.”

“Whatever.” Karin smirked slightly as she slid her phone back into her pocket. “We'd better get going before Goat-Face comes looking for us in ridiculous pajamas or something.”

The playful banter was a bit distant for Homura. All she could think was how cruel the Incubator was to rob a family of not one daughter, but two. As if she needed any more reasons to hate that monster.

Yuzu sighed affectionately and stood up. She bit her lip and turned to Homura. “Do you have someplace to stay— uhhh—” Her eyes went wide and she held a hand in front of her face and gasped. “Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't ask your name!”

Still half wondering which tragic fate would befall the twins and what manner of hole they would leave in their family, Homura distractedly answered, “Homura Akemi.”

Yuzu smiled and bowed cheerfully. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Homura!” Her face dimmed. “I wish it was under better circumstances.”

Karin inclined her chin. “Likewise.”

Homura sighed softly. “It can not be helped,” she said as she stood and straightened her uniform.

“So, do you?” Yuzu anxiously fidgeted with the cuff of her sleeve. “Have somewhere to stay tonight, I mean?”

“No. Where am I?”

“You're in Karakura. Little place west of Tokyo. We were at Old Karakura Train Station, not far from Naruki City.” Karin scratched her head. “Where are you from, O Rider of Rails?”

Homura frowned. She really was quite far from home. That had been the slap-dash plan, though, she supposed. Really should have thought it through more. She huffed in frustration and absently answered, “Mitakihara,” as she considered her options. She had lived in Tokyo once upon a time. Maybe she could double back and find something to do.

The twins' eyes went round. “That really nice city with all the pretty buildings?!” gushed Yuzu.

“The fancy city way up by Sendai?!” Karin screeched.

Homura glanced at Karin. “Closer to Soma, really.”

“Because that's so much closer.” Karin pressed a palm to her face. “There won't be any more trains up that way until morning.”

Homura pursed her lips. “I will be fine. I did not intend to return immediately anyway.”

Yuzu was the picture of innocent concern as she asked, “Homura, won't your parents be worried?”

Violet eyes glanced away from the twins. “I live by myself. No one will miss me.”

“But your friends—!”

“My friends are dead.”

“Your other friends—”

“I have no other friends.”

There was a long silence, finally broken by a sniffle. Homura glanced back at the twins and found Yuzu tearing up again and Karin looking... defiant?

Yuzu scrubbed an arm across her eyes, swept forward, grabbed Homura's hands in her own, and stared her down with a determined face. “You have us.”

Homura blinked in surprise. “What?”

“She said you have us.” Karin put her hands on her hips and glared at Homura. “We may have only met tonight, but we're in this together.”

Homura stared at them in bafflement. “But—”

Karin nonchalantly waved off Homura's objections. “You're a fellow magical girl. And you're not attacking us, plus you seem to have been close enough to a team of magical girls to care about them dying. You're not one of those cold magical girls. You're one of us, and we take care of our own.”

Guilt flooded Homura. She hadn't been part of a team. Not in this timeline. She had been cold to everyone. Distant and not particularly helpful. Homura shook her head slowly in disbelief. “You do not know that. What kind of person I am. You do not know me—”

Yuzu squeezed Homura's hands again and looked her in the eye. “You care enough about other magical girls to cry for them. You were polite about coming into our territory. You didn't attack us while our backs were to you. You could have stayed in Mitakihara and taken control of the territory your friends held, but you didn't. You could have killed us before we even knew you were there, but you didn't. That's enough for us.”

Homura just stared.

Yuzu released Homura's hands, stepped back, and struck a thoughtful pose. Then she nodded decisively. “You're coming home with us tonight,” she declared.

“What?”

Karin snorted. “As if we'd let you sleep under a bridge after the day you've had.”

“I couldn't— You're kind, but really—”

Yuzu's cheerful face went serious again. “Homura, there's a tricky Witch on the loose. It's dangerous to wander around when you're tired and lost.”

Karin regarded the new girl from heavy-lidded eyes and darkly added, “Besides, Witches aren't the only danger in Karakura.” She bit her lip and looked speculative. “We have Hollows here.”

Homura stared at Karin intensely, confused and wary. “What is a Hollow?”

Karin's face shifted. It was an odd expression that Homura didn't like one bit. It said that Karin had half expected her answer but that she wasn't particularly happy with it. Karin sighed and ran a hand through her bangs. “It's late. I'll explain tomorrow.” She eyed Homura's disapproving scowl and relented. “The short explanation is they're kinda like Witches that don't hide in labyrinths.”

Homura stared. That... would be terrifying. The only Witch that Homura knew didn't bother with a labyrinth was Walpurgisnacht. Questions swarmed her mind. She startled slightly as Karin flicked a finger against her shoulder.

“Tomorrow. Promise. Right now we need to get home before the old man comes looking for us.”

Homura frowned and allowed the change of subject. “How are you going to convince your father to let a stranger stay in your house?”

Yuzu smiled conspiratorially and winked. “Let us handle Daddy. He doesn't need to know you're a stranger and he let my brother have a girl stay with us a couple years ago. It shouldn't be too hard,” she chirped.

“You won't even need to make up a sob story like Rukia did.” Karin pulled her phone out again and pulled up a web browser. “Just tweak the truth a bit. Dad's a goofball so even if he does think to look up the news in Mitakihara you should be good as long as your story is vague enough to not contradict anything he finds.” Nimble fingers tapped out mitakihara news in the search bar. A few taps later, Karin's eyebrows jumped up. “It looks like some girl named Madoka Kaname didn't show up for school and has been reported missing? And a friend of hers who was missing was found dead... in a hotel room? Um, Sayaka Miki? And there's another girl who's been missing longer than either of them? Mami Tomoe.” She looked up. “Are any of those your friends?”

“All of them.” Homura's voice was heavy. “Mami was eaten by a Witch almost three weeks ago. They will not find a body. Sayaka contracted after Mami died. She... did not handle it well.”

Karin frowned. “How did her body end up in a hotel?”

Homura closed her eyes. “That was probably Kyōko's doing. She did not want to believe we had lost Sayaka and...” she trailed off with a shrug, emotionally exhausted. “It's complicated.”

“Hmmmm? I don't see anything about a Kyōko in the news.”

Homura sighed. “You wouldn't. Her family is dead and she did not attend school like Mami. There is no one to report her missing. She died in a labyrinth so no one will find her body, either. Madoka has a family, so she will actually be missed.” She couldn't help thinking of a handful of timelines in which she had gone to Madoka's house and met her loving family. Her parents would move heaven and earth to find her and never be successful. “She also died in the labyrinth, so she will never be found.” It will be different next time, she told herself.

Yuzu looked horrified. “You... you lost four friends in three weeks?!”

Homura hummed quietly in confirmation.

Yuzu's face crumpled as she teared up again. “That's too cruel. That's— that's—” She stepped forward and hugged Homura again. Homura passively accepted the hug, but didn't return it.

Karin cleared her throat, eyes glassy with unshed tears, face grim. “Well, we'd better get going. We'll work on the cover story on the way and talk more tomorrow. Come on.” She turned away and glanced over her shoulder. Yuzu looped her arm through Homura's again and gently guided her forward. Homura followed with hesitant steps.

Chapter Text

VIER

TIMELINE X+N

The three girls meandered through the night, the twins quietly conspiring between prodding Homura for information to flesh out their story. Finally satisfied with their cover, the twins led Homura to a quaint neighborhood clinic that was closed for the evening. Homura was confused until the girls coaxed her to go around the clinic to access the house to which it was attached, which was dark save for the downstairs. Yuzu fished out her keys as they approached the door.

“Homura, I apologize in advance for any shenanigans you experience in this building,” drawled Karin. “I think the old man was dropped on his head as a baby or something.”

Yuzu laughed awkwardly. “He can be... overwhelming, if you're not used to him.”

“He's like a hyperactive puppy who lives to embarrass us.”

Homura eyed the door warily as Yuzu opened it and entered. Karin waved for her to go next.

Yuzu cheerfully called out, “Daddy, we're ho—”

Karin and Homura peered around Yuzu to see what had made her stop mid-sentence.

“Oh, for the love of God,” groaned Karin. “Where do you think you're going in that?!”

Homura was at a loss for words. Before her was a tall, burly man with spiky black hair and stubble not quite dense enough to be called a beard. He wore what she assumed were pajamas— a tight black t-shirt with a faded faux tuxedo printed on it in white and loose light blue pants with... lobsters. Lobster-print pants. Okay. A flashlight and a phone were jammed into his right hand. He stood on one foot. His left hand was in the process of pulling a plush Totoro slipper onto his other foot. The man stared at them stupidly for a moment. Then he dropped the phone, flashlight, and slipper, teared up, and loudly declared, “I was going to go looking for you! You were gone so long! I thought my darling daughters had been kidnapped!” The man launched himself at his daughters, arms wide for a hug.

Karin dodged inside his guard, planted her hand on her father's face, and redirected him toward a wall. “I texted you like fifteen minutes ago, Goat-Face,” she groused.

The man pulled away from the wall and looked over his shoulder at Karin. Melodramatic tears dribbled down his pouting face. “Daddy was worried!”

“We're big girls now, Daddy,” Yuzu chirped.

“You'll always be my babies!” the man wailed.

Yuzu giggled uncomfortably. Karin rolled her eyes and sighed. “Can you please behave like a rational adult in front of our friend?”

The man blinked away his tears in an instant and whirled away from the wall, seeming to notice the third girl for the first time. He gasped dramatically. “You brought home a friend!”

“That's what I just said.”

Homura stepped forward and primly bowed. “I am Homura Akemi. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kurosaki.”

The man casually bowed his head and waved. “It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Miss Akemi. The name's Isshin.” He scratched his chin and eyed his daughters speculatively before looking back to Homura. “Do your parents know you're here this late?”

“I live by myself right now. My uncle is often away on business.”

“I see.” Isshin looked from one of the girls' faces to another. “Are you girls having a sleepover? It's a school night.”

“Um, kind of,” said Yuzu. “Can Homura stay with us for a night or two? Some bad things happened at her school and some weird things are happening in her city and she...” Yuzu trailed off and looked at Homura somewhat helplessly.

Playing the role assigned to her, Homura bowed her head slightly and looked at the floor. “I did not want to be there. And I did not want to be... alone.”

Isshin frowned in concern. “Which school is this? And what kind of things? What city? Wait, how did you three meet?”

“I attend Mitakihara Middle School.”

Isshin's eyebrows jumped toward his hairline. “Mitakihara?!”

“She moved up there this year,” said Yuzu. “She used to go to a school in Tokyo. Karin and I met her on our class trip to the botanical gardens in sixth grade.”

“We kept in touch on the internet,” Karin continued. “She's been telling us about some freaky stuff going on in her town lately.”

“What freaky stuff?” Isshin asked Homura.

Homura clenched her fists in the folds of her skirt and grimly met his eyes. “A week ago, a classmate and over a dozen other people woke up in a warehouse in the middle of the night. The authorities suspect mass hallucination, but it is strange. A few days ago, a classmate went missing. Today my friend did not come to school. Now they say she is missing, and someone found the first missing girl's body in a hotel room. And now they are saying that a girl from the next grade up has been missing since before the 'hallucination' event.” She twisted her skirt in white-knuckled hands. “It seems like someone is doing things to the girls at my school. I do not want to be next. And I do not want to see Madoka and Sayaka's empty seats.” She glanced down and to the side as though embarrassed. “It sounds stupid now, but I wanted to get away so I just got on a train and rode. I recognized the name Karakura when they called out the stop and I got off.”

Yuzu took over. “That's when she texted us for help. So we went to the train station and got her. And we talked for awhile and it got late.”

“Sorry we didn't call you, Goat-Face, but she was really upset and we totally forgot,” Karin offered with a shrug.

“So can she stay with us, Daddy? Please? It sounds so scary.”

By then, Isshin's face had completely morphed into that of a seriously concerned parent, all silliness put aside. Rather like a mask, Homura thought. He frowned and stared hard at Homura. For her part, Homura allowed her own mask to slip slightly under his scrutiny, let him see the exhaustion and grief.

After a long pause, Isshin scratched his head and shifted slightly, still frowning. “Does anyone know you're here?” he asked Homura.

“No, sir.”

After a moment he nodded. “You can stay as long as you call your school to report your absence in the morning. What you tell them is your business. I just don't want you to be reported missing, too. It would be cruel to your teachers and classmates and unhelpful for the police while they look for your friends.”

“Yay! Thank you, Daddy!” Yuzu cheered. She threw herself at her father for a hug. The loud goofiness immediately returned.

“Ah, my little girls are such good friends! MASAKI, OUR DAUGHTERS ARE GROWING UP TO BE SUCH KIND YOUNG LADIES!” He started bawling as he swung a squealing Yuzu around. “DADDY'S SO PROUD!”

Homura and Karin stared, Homura uneasy and Karin bored but blushing slightly.

Yuzu soon whirled away from her father and clapped her hands together. “Homura! I'll make you something quick for dinner, then a big breakfast in the morning!”

Homura blinked at the sudden change of topic. “Thank you, but that will not be necessary.”

Karin frowned. “You were on the train for hours. When's the last time you ate?”

Homura opened her mouth, paused, thought back, and frowned. “I do not know.”

Yuzu's face became more determined. “You must be starving. I can give you leftovers while I whip up something else to fill you up.”

“Please do not trouble yourself,” Homura demurred. Then her stomach betrayed her with a quiet growl.

Yuzu's face turned fierce, eyes commanding. “I'm making you dinner and you are going to eat it. Do you understand?”

This would have made the old Homura stammer and blush and generally fumble in mortification as she rushed to obey. This Homura merely gaped silently for a moment before nodding slightly.

Yuzu's face instantly slid back into good cheer. Like father like daughter? Homura wondered. “Great! I'll get started!” She turned and trotted down the hall, humming happily and randomly saying ingredients aloud. Homura just blankly watched her go.

Karin patted Homura's shoulder. “Good call. She's all cute and nice but she can be the scariest of all of us sometimes.”

“So much like her mother,” sniffled Isshin, reminding the girls of his presence. “MASAKI, OUR— OOF!”

Karin withdrew her foot from her father's midsection. “Can you not start howling every five minutes, Goat-Face? Jeez.”

“So much... like my cousin,” wheezed Isshin.

Karin rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “Whatever. Come on, Homura, I'll reel in Yuzu and keep her from cooking you a midnight banquet. You must wanna sleep.” She grabbed Homura's hand and half-dragged her down the hall.

What have I gotten myself into? Homura wondered numbly.

Chapter Text

FÜNF

TIMELINE X+N

Isshin stood in the foyer for a few moments and watched the three girls disappear into the kitchen. He stood and listened to his daughters bicker over what constituted a reasonable amount of food for their guest while the new girl remained silent. It was sweet, but he frowned hard.

His girls were lying to him and trying to play him. He didn't know what about specifically, but it worried him.

What worried him more, though, was the strange girl's high reiatsu and the way a Hollow reiatsu clung to her. Up close, he could feel Homura's own reiatsu gradually sloughing off the taint, but it was strong. And her face... It had been apparent that both Homura and Yuzu had cried hard earlier in the night, eyes red-rimmed and dried tear tracks on their faces. Both his girls had been quietly riled up and ready to argue with him to secure a place to stay for the girl. Then, for a moment when the new girl looked him in the eye, he saw genuinely painful grief and helplessness. How could he deny her help?

He didn't know what part of their story was a lie, but he knew that the girl's grief and fear were real. She was exhausted and hurting, Hollow reiatsu clung to her like lingering mud, girls were allegedly disappearing and dying, and his daughters had some level of involvement. It was as if he was seeing just the tip of the iceberg, the signs that something sinisterly larger was happening beneath the surface.

After another minute of thought, Isshin pasted a goofy expression on his face and pranced into the kitchen. He hummed obnoxiously as he got a cup and filled it with water, then glanced toward the girls. Yuzu was industriously throwing things in a pan as if it had offended her while a hesitantly sympathetic Karin served a lost-looking Homura a plate of reheated leftovers from the family's dinner earlier in the evening. The poor girl seemed too exhausted to guard her expression anymore, face wavering as though she couldn't decide whether to eat the food, scream and throw it, or fall asleep in it. It hurt to watch. Isshin saw echoes of his bereaved nine-year-old son staring at his food every night after being dragged home from the riverbank where his mother had died.

Every fatherly instinct Isshin had screamed that something was deeply wrong and the girl was caught up in something far over her head.

Isshin temporarily tucked his concern away and swung the fridge door shut with a flourish. “Well, girls, Daddy's off to bed! I'll be up for awhile reading the new medical journal, though, and you can always get me if you need me, okay?”

Karin waved him off halfheartedly while Yuzu cheerfully wished him good night. Homura simply sat straight and stared at him as though not really seeing him. Isshin frowned at her in concern and gave her a small nod to wish her good night but she just stared.

Isshin took his water upstairs and climbed in bed with his laptop. He pulled up a window with his medical journal and scrolled down to a random point, then opened an internet browser to begin his own amateur investigation. Calling up the news sites for Mitakihara was the easy part. As a father, reading the results grew difficult.

MISSING SCHOOLGIRL FOUND DEAD IN UPSCALE HOTEL ROOM

April 21 20XX 06:13 PM

Sayaka Miki (14), the Mitakihara Middle School second year who has been missing since April 12^th, was found dead this evening by security staff at Hotel Nikko Mitakihara. The police have released a statement indicating that the girl's death appears to have occurred sometime within the preceding 24 hours, though the cause of death is as yet undetermined. More details may be released following an autopsy.

Updated April 21 20XX 06:47 PM

The girl is said to have looked clean and in good health with no injuries on her person and no sign of struggle in the hotel room. Police continue to process the scene, which anonymous sources indicate appears normal save for a number of bags of food from various convenience stores and fast food restaurants. The investigation will continue through the night.

Updated April 21 20XX 07:49 PM

A girl who sources say is friends with Sayaka Miki has been reported missing by her parents this evening. For details, see our article here (link)

Updated April 21 20XX 08:52 PM

A press conference is tentatively scheduled for 10:00 AM tomorrow.

FRIEND OF DEAD SCHOOLGIRL REPORTED MISSING

April 21 20XX 07:46 PM

Junko and Tomohisa Kaname report that their daughter, Madoka (14), did not return from school today. Mitakihara Middle School reports that Madoka Kaname was recorded absent from classes today. Her disappearance is particularly troubling in light of the disappearance and subsequent discovery of the body of her close friend Sayaka Miki this evening.

 

Mr. and Mrs. Kaname cite a phone call to another of their child's friends to indicate their daughter was last seen on her usual path to school. The friend said the missing girl appeared troubled and suddenly decided to go home instead of continuing to class. She never made it home. Kaname was last seen running north from Mitakihara Middle School around 07:45 AM. She was wearing a Mitakihara Middle School girls' winter uniform with white stockings and her pink hair was tied up in two pigtails with red ribbons. Anyone who thinks they have seen her or has any relevant information is urged to call the Mitakihara Municipal Police at XXX-XXXX.

SCHOOL OFFICIALS REPORT THIRD MISSING GIRL

April 21 20XX 08:14 PM

At the request of investigators, administrators scoured records at Mitakihara Middle School for attendance anomalies relating to the mysterious disappearances of Sayaka Miki (14) and Madoka Kaname (14). Concerned administrators expanded their examination to the entire student body out of an abundance of caution. They discovered that third year student Mami Tomoe (15), an emancipated orphan, had not attended classes since April 4^th, predating Sayaka Miki's disappearance by eight days. When calls to her home went unanswered, police were dispatched to her apartment. The door was found to be unlocked. Sources report that there was no obvious sign of foul play, though the scene has yet to be processed in depth. One source indicates that the apartment appears abandoned. Officials are submitting her photo to local hospitals in hope of finding that she was admitted without identification. Tomoe's last known whereabouts are yet to be determined. She has blond hair which she usually wears in two curled pigtails decorated with flower hairpins. Anyone who thinks they have seen her or has any relevant information is urged to call the Mitakihara Municipal Police at XXX-XXXX.

Updated April 21 20XX 08:42 PM

An anonymous law enforcement source claims that physical evidence of a tie to the newly missing Madoka Kaname (14) (link) was found in Tomoe's apartment. Mitakihara Municipal Police Department spokesperson Kuroe Mura declined to comment, citing the investigation in progress and promising a news conference sometime tomorrow morning.

Isshin sat back and scrubbed a hand over his face, then held his chin and stared at the articles and the school ID photos of three girls smiling out at him. He vaguely noted the timestamps. Something didn't add up, but he was too tired to spot it. Sighing in temporary defeat, he shut his laptop and settled down for the night.

Sleep was a long time coming. What the hell had his daughters gotten involved in?

Chapter Text

SECHS

TIMELINE X+N

Waking up somewhere completely new was strange for Homura. She had become so accustomed to endlessly repeating the same events with the same people in the same setting that change was a surreal novelty. So there she was, drowsily sitting on the spare futon that had been dragged into the girls' room from their absent brother's closet, squinting at the clear sky outside the window while the Kurosaki twins got dressed. Weird.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Madoka was dead again.

Yuzu swiftly pulled on her uniform and hurried out the door, calling out that Homura could look through her closet and dresser for clothes. A sleepier Karin made the same offer. Fifteen minutes later Homura followed Karin downstairs to the kitchen in one of Yuzu's dresses. Yuzu turned from the stove to greet them and cooed over how cute Homura looked in her dress. Karin and Homura had just sat at the table when Isshin burst into the room dressed like a responsible adult, complete with lab coat and tie.

“GOOOOOD MORNING, GIRLS!” he cheered.

“Good morning, Daddy!” bubbled Yuzu.

“Mornin',” mumbled Karin.

Homura stared for a moment, then bowed her head respectfully and quietly said, “Good morning, Mr. ...Dr. Kurosaki.”

Sitting down to a hot, fresh breakfast was another oddity for Homura. She was no longer sure how many times she had relived six weeks of her life, but surely it had been years. After the first several variations on disaster, she had been reduced to eating leftovers from the takeout she got for dinner on the way home from various fights and weapons heists. The sheer normalcy of sitting around a table while a family chattered pleasantly was disturbingly abnormal. It all felt quite distant to her, but she also presumed she wouldn't have anything like this in the next timeline so she had better appreciate it while it lasted. Conversation had always been terribly awkward for her so she didn't even try to participate, but she could easily savor food in silence. Homura was grateful that the odd collection of cheer, sarcasm, and buffoonery somehow seemed able to gauge her mood with small glances and accordingly fall into easy banter around her without trying to draw her in. She felt free to stare out the window and let their voices wash over her as she ate. Some part of her fretted that she was being a terrible guest, but the majority of her didn't particularly care.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the Kurosaki family was happy, and Madoka was dead again.

Karin set down her empty glass. “Hey, Homura. It's Friday so we'll be at school all day. We'd ask Goat-Face to let us ditch and hang out with you but the first chapter tests for a few classes are today. Then we have a half day tomorrow— maybe we could ditch that?” Karin glanced at her father, who made a skeptically considering face. She dropped the subject to pick up later and looked back at Homura. “We have a lot of video games and books. We don't mind if you use them.”

Homura hesitated, confused that Isshin hadn't scolded Karin for calling him Goat-Face right in front of him. Once upon a time, her father would have lectured— She forcefully smothered that train of thought.

“She could also help in the clinic if she wants,” Isshin suggested between bites. He looked to Homura. “Nothing big, just refilling the supplies in the exam rooms when the delivery comes in, maybe watch the waiting room while I'm with a patient.”

Homura stared at him in surprise.

“You don't have to,” he continued. “I just figured I'd give you another option for keeping busy if games or books don't distract you enough. Waiting for news must be terrible.”

Homura looked down at her lap, hunching her shoulders with the weight of guilt. She already knew what had happened and that it would never be figured out. All because she had been too slow to realize that Madoka's loving heart would drive her to the Mermaid Witch's labyrinth even if she wasn't contracted. Homura had been so late to the scene that she couldn't even retrieve Madoka's body so she could have a proper funeral.

Gritting her teeth and wringing her skirt, she kept from crying by sheer force of will. It will be different next time, it will be different next time, it will be different next time. After a moment she gave Isshin a general nod of agreement. Any distraction would be welcome.

Isshin watched her for a long moment as he sipped his coffee. He nodded as if the matter was settled and stood. “Right. We'll call your school after I see the girls off and go from there.”

“Oh! Is it already that late?!” gasped Yuzu.

Karin smirked. “It's because you cooked such a fancy breakfast. You lost track of time.”

“Why aren't you worried?! We have a test in first period!”

Karin's eyes widened comically. She abruptly stood and shoved back her chair, tripping over herself to grab her book bag. “Shit, c'mon, Yuz, let's run!”

“Laaaaaanguage young laaaaady!” sang Ishhin. He sounded smug rather than angry.

“Shut it, Goat-Face!” Karin reappeared in the doorway, hopping as she slid on a shoe. “We'll see you later, Homura. Take care of yourself!”

Yuzu ran up and briefly hugged Homura. “We'll come straight home and then we can have some time to talk, okay?” The brunette pulled away and waved. “Have a good day, Homura!”

Homura and Isshin stared toward the door in the twins' wake for a moment before looking at each other. Isshin clapped loudly. “Well! Let's get this over with. Do you need a phone? Or need to look up the number?”

“No, thank you, sir. I have the number programmed into my phone.” Mostly because she had originally anticipated calling out sick a lot in the first timeline. After using her magic to heal herself, she had left the number on her phone for lack of any reason to remove it.

Isshin sat down with a new cup of coffee as Homura dialed her school. The phone rang unusually long before a frazzled secretary picked up.

“Mitakihara Middle School attendance office, how may I help you?”

Homura stared blankly at her plate and rolled a grape back and forth beneath one finger. “My name is Homura Akemi. I would like to call out sick for today, possibly tomorrow.”

“A-ke-mi, ah, there you are,” the secretary murmured to her computer. “And what is the reason for your absence?” she asked with dread.

“I am feeling unwell because of the stress from the disappearances. Two of the girls were in my class. One of them was very kind to me and she... the thought that she is gone...” Homura swallowed hard and controlled her voice once more. It steadied into calm and methodical. “There is a note in my file about previous illnesses made worse by stress. My uncle is out of the country on business and I was... afraid... so I decided to visit some friends west of Tokyo.”

The secretary sounded worried when she asked, “Tokyo? That's so far! And if you're not well—”

Damn. Needed to placate the woman. How...? Ah. “My friends' father is a doctor. I will be staying with him in his clinic today.”

“But Miss Akemi, with all that's happening—”

Homura's patience was wearing thin. “I will be supervised by a competent adult. And my uncle's attorney filed forms to allow me to make such decisions in his absence. I may be young but I know I am all but emancipated. He only controls my finances.”

The secretary sounded uncertain. “Still—”

Isshin interrupted with a mild, “Would you like me to talk to them, Homura?”

Homura looked at him warily, then switched to speaker and held it out to him.

Isshin cleared his throat and assumed a businesslike persona. “Good morning, ma'am. This is Doctor Isshin Kurosaki, proprietor of the Kurosaki Clinic in Karakura. In case it is relevant, I have admitting privileges at Karakura General Hospital. My daughters brought Miss Akemi to my house last night, quite distraught. Being with my girls seems to have calmed her some, but I don't recommend throwing her into the media circus that must be around the school right now, especially when she has no one at home to support her and look after her. I thought it would be best to report her whereabouts so she doesn't get counted among the missing.”

The secretary sighed tiredly. “Thank you for that. Honestly, she's not the first to call in sick today. A lot of students and parents are worried. Rightly so, I'm sorry to say. And yes, the press is accosting students.” They couldn't see her, but Homura was certain the woman was massaging her temples or somesuch.

“Shall I leave all of my contact information with you in case the school wants to check on her location?” Isshin offered.

Homura tilted her head to one side and owlishly watched the man. It was like observing a completely different person from the one she had met the night before. She never would have pegged him as a doctor, but she could see it now. Which is the mask? she wondered. Also, it was strange to hand over her personal business to someone else. It took a few moments, but she finally pinned down the unsettling feeling as it having been so long since she had actually depended on an adult for anything. Even so minor a concession of control was uncomfortable.

Isshin eventually ended the call and sat looking at Homura searchingly. “You didn't say you had health problems.”

Homura looked surprised for a moment, then shrugged and ran a hand through her hair while looking away. “I had arthroscopic surgery to correct a heart defect awhile back. I am perfectly fine now. Adults keep fussing over me, though. They need not bother.”

Isshin frowned. “Adults should worry over the health of children. Don't take your health so lightly.”

Homura raised her eyebrows and glanced at him. “You seem awfully invested in my health for a stranger.”

“I'm a doctor. That's my job.”

“You are not my doctor.”

Isshin's frown deepened. “Maybe not. But I couldn't call myself a father if I didn't worry about other children besides my own.”

Homura tilted her head and stared at him silently as though he was some kind of creature she had never seen before and was unsure of. Isshin met her gaze with stern earnestness until she finally looked away.

The quiet was broken by a buzzer in the distance. Both turned toward it.

“Ah, the supply delivery is here.” Isshin turned back to Homura. “Do you want to help in the clinic or would you like some time to yourself?”

She leaned toward solitude, but figured she'd end up obsessing over Madoka's many deaths without direction. “I would like to help in the clinic, please.”

“All right, then!” Isshin jabbed a thumbs up her way. “Let's get started!” He wore a small grin, but still looked serious.

Homura wasn't sure how his mood could slide around so easily. Still uncertain what to think of him, she hesitantly followed him to the clinic.

Chapter Text

SIEBEN

TIMELINE X + N

Isshin found the girl to be an efficient helper in the clinic. Her familiarity with general clinic structure and procedure was obvious in the ease with which she began tidying and arranging the rooms and supplies, avoiding that which was not to be touched without instruction. When a young mother hauled in a bawling toddler with blood all over his front from his adventures in climbing up to a medicine cabinet to play with Daddy's razor, Homura was unruffled. She silently assisted with supplies while Isshin cleaned and sutured the boy's cheek, displaying no aversion to blood. It seemed a bit odd, but Isshin chalked it up to the medical history she had so casually alluded to.

After an otherwise slow morning, Isshin ordered lunch to be delivered from a little takeout place down the street. Homura ate neatly but was politely distant in the face of every attempt Isshin made at conversation. He found himself amid one of the rare times when he was at a loss for what to do. There were many questions he wanted to ask her, but he worried that the poor girl was barely holding herself together as it was. Isshin had seen how she had kept herself from flying apart at the seams when he had brought up waiting for news at breakfast. Had seen her face twist and fists clench, had seen the shimmer of tears she refused to shed. Had seen, worryingly, that she felt some degree of blame. Between his time leading the Tenth Division and his time as a father, Isshin had become very good at reading behavioral cues to decipher emotions a person tried to hide. Years of ferreting out who was playing innocent— and playing the fool himself— prepared him to spot guilt. And Homura Akemi reeked of it. Her body language screamed of it no matter how hard she tried to stifle it. Even her unusually well-developed and well-controlled reiatsu was threaded with guilt. Isshin wondered if she was blaming herself irrationally or if there was something more behind it. He wanted to poke at what she knew, but the girl was fragile behind her cool front. Better for now that he tried to gather information independently.

When Homura claimed she didn't feel well after lunch and asked his leave to take a nap, Isshin gladly agreed. He sat tapping a finger on the clinic's front desk as he sensed her reiatsu shifting around the house. When her little cloud of gloom settled in the twins' room, he snapped open his laptop and continued his research.

BOMBSHELL NEWS CONFERENCE!

MITAKIHARA DISAPPEARANCES LINKED, SAY AUTHORITIES

April 22, 20XX 10:42 AM

Stunning information was revealed at this morning's press conference. Mitakihara Municipal Police Department spokesperson Kuroe Mura stated that evidence in the cases of the three Mitakihara Middle School students who have disappeared in recent weeks ties them to each other and additional suspicious activities in town.

Though initially unreported, third year Mami Tomoe (15) was the first of the girls to fail to attend class. Teachers describe her as studious and positive, but a loner. She is an emancipated orphan and lives alone. Authorities searched her apartment through the night. An anonymous law enforcement source reports that the living space appeared as though someone stepped out and intended to return shortly: There were dishes in the kitchen sink, a stale cake on a cooling rack, a pot and cup of mostly-evaporated tea on the coffee table, and a school bag near the table. Dates on the assignments correspond with April 4^th, the last day Tomoe is known to have attended school. Curiously, a spiral-bound notebook labeled as property of Madoka Kaname (14), the girl who disappeared only yesterday, was found neatly placed on the coffee table, said a second source. Police hope to find further clues within its pages, which also have no dates beyond April 4^th. Our source says it contained some assignment lists and a large number of doodles. It has not been dismissed as unimportant, as at least five of the doodles portray a figure with Tomoe's distinct hairstyle.

“Evidence implies that Kaname knew Tomoe before her disappearance despite never being in the same class and never having been known to meet,” Spokeswoman Mura said after confirming the details given in anonymous leaks. “This is perhaps corroborated by Kaname's parents. They report that about a week before Tomoe's disappearance, their daughter came home late and said she had been invited to an upperclassman's home. Our working hypothesis is that this upperclassman was Mami Tomoe. What seems more ominous now is that Kaname's parents report that their daughter was tearful on the morning of April 5^th. Both recall that she specifically said something like 'nothing's wrong with me, I'm alive.' Based on the timing, we are concerned that Kaname may have known something about Tomoe's case. Upon speaking with Miki's parents, we found that Miki showed similar behavior at the same time, leading us to speculate that she also knew Tomoe.”

Desperate for leads, Mura went into unusual detail about what is known about Sayaka Miki (14), found dead in an upscale hotel room yesterday evening. Her disappearance was the first to be noticed. She and Madoka Kaname were longtime friends. Like her friend, Miki had no previously known relationship to Tomoe. As previously reported when she went missing, Miki regularly traveled to and from Mitakihara General Hospital to visit a friend through March and into mid-April. Like Kaname, Miki also displayed distress on April 5^th. Her behavior became erratic after her friend was released from the hospital. On April 11^th, Miki's mother reports she was depressed and obviously ill. This was the first day Miki did not attend classes. Miki attended school on April 12^th and another friend reported that she went to a cafe with Miki after school. Sayaka Miki never went home after her last known appearance at the cafe. Authorities previously speculated that a schoolgirl rivalry discussed by the girls had caused Miki to run away, but this theory is now in question.

Miki's body was found in a room at Hotel Nikko Mitakihara now thought to have been reserved fraudulently. The online payment for the room has been traced to a prepaid credit card purchased with cash in Kazamino City. Police have requested surveillance footage from the store where it was purchased. Hotel Nikko lobby footage shows a red-haired girl of perhaps fourteen to sixteen picking up the room key on April 9^th. The desk clerk is being interviewed about the transaction. Sayaka Miki does not appear on any of the tapes, so it is unclear how she came to be in the hotel room. The mystery girl is seen coming and going at odd times of day and night, often with food. She is never accompanied by anyone and has not been seen since the morning of the day the body was found. Police are working on a composite sketch to release to the public in search of clues to this girl's whereabouts. “At this time, the unknown girl is simply a person of interest in this case,” said Spokeswoman Mura. “Considering the demographics of the other missing girls, we are also concerned for her safety.”

A forensic team is still combing through the hotel room, but initial fingerprint collections have brought up an interesting link. The prints match those collected at the sites of two ATM “break and bust” robberies on the east end of town in the last two weeks. Considering the proximity of these crimes to the edge of town nearest Kazamino City and the purchase of the prepaid credit card there, Mitakihara Municipal Police Department has requested the cooperation of the Kazamino City Police Department to investigate leads and look for similar incidents in their jurisdiction.

MYSTERIOUS “MASS HALLUCINATION” EVENT MAY BE LINKED TO DISAPPEARANCES

April 22, 20XX 10:58 AM

The April 5^th event during which eleven people woke in a warehouse in the middle of the night with no memory of how they got there is being scrutinized more closely in light of today's revelations regarding the missing girls from Mitakihara Middle School.

Two of the disappearances have a common witness: Hitomi Shizuki (14), heiress to Shizuki Architecture & Engineering CEO Yasuhiro Shizuki. Miss Shizuki is on record as the last person to see both Sayaka Miki and Madoka Kaname before their disappearances. The three are good friends. Shizuki purports to have invited Miki to a cafe to talk about personal business after school on April 12^th. She has a receipt to prove she was there and a waitress corroborates her statement that she left by herself afterward. The waitress said Miki sat at the table and stared at her food for perhaps twenty minutes before also leaving. Shizuki's testimony regarding Kaname isn't as easy to corroborate. Shizuki says that shortly after they met up and headed toward school, Kaname stopped, said she decided to go home, and ran away. All this would simply be a curious and sad coincidence if not for a third point of involvement.

Said heiress was one of the people found in varying states of consciousness and confusion when police were summoned to a television station by a silent alarm around 9:30 PM April 5^th. The television station has been closed for renovations since mid-March. The group's initial entry did not trigger an alarm as a member of the station's security staff was in the group and used his card to gain entry. The fingerprints of other adults at the scene were found on empty bottles of household chemicals which are deadly when mixed. The alarm was triggered by the breaking of a window. Investigation outdoors found that a bucket full of chemicals had been thrown out the pane. Whoever did this saved the lives of those inside. Authorities had isolated a set of fingerprints on the bucket, window sill, and a doorknob, but they didn't match any of the victims left on the scene.

Today, authorities cited the presence of Madoka Kaname's notebook in missing girl Mami Tomoe's apartment to get samples of her fingerprints from objects in the Kaname home. The samples match partial prints on the doorknob of Tomoe's apartment, which was somewhat expected. What was a complete surprise was for the database to identify the prints of the mystery savior at the television station as belonging to Kaname, who was previously not known to be involved in any way.

In light of this development, all evidence regarding the “mass hallucination event” is being reevaluated and the victims are being interviewed further. Police ask the public to refer to their official tip site for this case if they saw anyone behaving oddly on the evening of April 5^th.

When asked for a statement, Yasuhiro Shizuki commented with condolences for the Miki family, support for the Kaname family, and an announcement that while his family will cooperate with police, he will withdraw his daughter from school temporarily in case she is being targeted. He expresses concern that the April 5^th event was a botched attempt on his daughter's life or thwarted human trafficking and urges the police to solve the case swiftly.

BREAKING: MISSING MIDDLE SCHOOL GIRLS SEEN IN SURVEILLANCE FOOTAGE EVIDENCE IN EARLIER DISAPPEARANCE OF 6TH GRADER

April 22, 20XX 12:53 PM

An eagle-eyed detective investigating the April 4^th disappearance of Nagisa Momoe (12) has spotted a major clue to the Mitakihara Middle School disappearances. Authorities now suspect there could be a larger problem at hand than originally thought.

Though from rural Kinuma, Momoe spent considerable time visiting her terminally ill mother at Mitakihara General Hospital, which she had traveled to in order to receive treatment for pancreatic cancer. As we reported earlier this month, Momoe was present for her mother's death around 4:10 PM April 4^th. A few minutes after her mother passed, Momoe became upset and said her mother's death was her fault. No one could calm her and she escalated to hysterically yelling that she could have made her mother get better, but was stupid. When nurses moved to restrain her, she dodged around them and ran away.

Restored security footage shows her run into a stairwell, descend to the ground floor, pass through the main lobby, and run out of the main entrance. A camera positioned to monitor the bicycle racks shows her run into the frame and fall to her knees sobbing. To everyone's dismay, the camera went offline at this moment due to electrical problems which crashed the surveillance network for the north wing of the building's first floor, including the lobby. No other cameras show Momoe leave, but the outdoor cameras in areas unaffected by the outage are focused around points of entry and the bicycle racks face an open park. The footage from the lobby was not immediately available to those seeking Momoe due to the outage, so they did not know to focus their search by the bike racks.

The initial search for Momoe focused within the hospital building itself. An expansion of the search did not begin until 25 minutes after she left the oncology ward. By then, Momoe could have run through the park herself or been abducted. The search has been stymied by the camera malfunction and a total lack of other evidence.

Detective Kentaro Tachibana was assigned to the sixth-grader's case on April 6^th. He went over the security footage repeatedly over the last few weeks. “I just thought that maybe I had missed something and if I watched enough, I could find it and bring Nagisa home,” the detective explained at a press conference today.

When the pictures of the missing girls circulated the police headquarters, Tachibana felt a nagging familiarity though he had never met them. He was particularly certain he had seen Kaname. When he heard the detail that Miki had been known to frequent the hospital, he watched the security footage again on a hunch. He was stunned by what he found.

In the videos of the main lobby, Momoe is seen running down the center aisle and out the front door. In one of the camera angles, Madoka Kaname is clearly visible sitting in a chair. 31 minutes after Momoe left the screen— 10 minutes after an initial perimeter sweep by security found nothing suspicious by the bike racks— Sayaka Miki approached Kaname, who stood up and left with her. Cameras show the two exit by the front door and turn toward the bike racks. It is unknown what happened off-camera, but Kaname is spotted on a camera aimed out the emergency room entrance about 10 minutes later. She is not carrying her school bag as in the tape immediately before and is running.

Security services focused on not allowing exit from the building while it was thoroughly searched, as it was then believed Momoe must still be indoors. The bike racks were left unattended.

Kaname reenters the ER camera about 20 minutes later. She is running back the way she had come. Following her is Mami Tomoe, verifying that the two did know each other and establishing Tomoe's last known location. None of the girls appear in any subsequent camera footage, causing authorities to speculate that they left by way of the park.

“This is a major break,” says Mitakihara Municipal Police Spokeswoman Kuroe Mura. “Many threads are gathered together in one place. However, this also raises many more questions.”

One new curiosity centers on Tomoe's school bag. She is plainly carrying it in the video. It was found in her apartment weeks later near Kaname's notebook. One could infer that she returned to her apartment at some point later in the evening. The question now becomes one of whether she was alone when she did so. Did some or all of the girls go to Tomoe's apartment after the events in the video took place? Did the three girls encounter Momoe? Did Momoe leave with them? Authorities are reexamining the evidence gathered from Tomoe's apartment to see if they can find anything indicating Momoe was there.

One theory from a source who wishes to remain anonymous is that Kaname and Miki found Momoe crying, then Kaname ran to get her older friend for help. Whether they all went to Tomoe's apartment afterward or not, there is now speculation that the three middle schoolers may have interrupted an attempt to commit a crime against the younger Momoe and become targeted in turn. Tomoe had disappeared by the next day.

“If only that camera system hadn't malfunctioned,” sighed the source. We can't help but agree.

Isshin frowned worriedly and scrubbed a hand over his face. No mention of Homura, and yet... He wondered just what she knew. What she had seen or heard. Something bothered him. He scrolled through the articles he had saved the night before and focused on the time stamps. Sat up sharply and looked them over again more critically.

He had been to a medical conference in Mitakihara once. The ride by commuter train was roughly four hours. There was no way Homura could have heard about even the first news— Miki's death— in time to get on a train and make it to Karakura by the time she had. He did some math. The news about Kaname would have been released more than halfway through her journey; the announcement of Tomoe's disappearance, not until three-quarters through her travel time. And the tie to the “mass hallucination” hadn't been released until morning.

Homura knew about it all before any of it was made public.

Given the faded Hollow reiatsu that clung to her... well. Homura's reiatsu was strong and controlled. She should be able to see spirits. What if there was a Hollow hunting girls in Mitakihara? What if at least some of the missing girls were also spiritually aware? What if they had been trying to defend themselves, been overwhelmed, and Homura was left alone in a world of grownups who would call her crazy if she told them the truth? What if she had kept in touch with his girls from a happenstance meeting on a field trip because she found out Karin could see the same spirits she could? He knew Karin had long since learned to use her reiatsu to defeat Hollows. Had Homura, too, but been outclassed?

Gently, Isshin reached out with his reiatsu to gauge Homura's. It was muted with sleep, yet easier to read without her conscious control.

Grief. Resignation. Fear. Guilt. Determination. Uncertainty. Desperation. Exhaustion. Hurried, then sluggish. A tumultuous storm. Nightmares.

Isshin withdrew and stared blankly at his computer screen, hand covering his mouth as he leaned on his elbow and considered his options. At length, he sighed, rubbed his eyes, and picked up the phone. He completely ignored the singsong greeting when someone picked up at the other end of the line.

Still staring at the frozen image of one of the security videos, he interrupted with a grim, “Hey, Kisuke. I have something I think you should look into.”

Chapter Text

ACHT

TIMELINE X+N

Karin and Yuzu had a hectic day at school. The morning full of testing was stressful enough, but their anxiety grew from lunchtime on. They sneaked off to eat their bento on the roof of the school and, by silent agreement, spent the entire period glued to their phones reading all the news they could find on Mitakihara. Both gradually stopped eating in favor of reading between the lines of the articles. When the warning bell rang, they packed away their lunches and phones on autopilot, faces pale.

Yuzu turned her phone off and looked up at her sister. “This looks really bad, Karin.”

“Yeah.” Karin pocketed her phone and stared blankly at the sky. “It'll be hard, but we need to talk to her. Figure out just how bad things are up there. Seems like they have way more magical girls and Witches in Mitakihara. It's weird.”

Yuzu stood and picked up her bag. She frowned doubtfully. “Kyubey did say Karakura was backwards from a lot of places because of the Hollows.”

Karin hummed at Yuzu's point. “And it sounds like a lot of the area's magical girls got taken out in only two, three weeks. And... I'm guessing those were Witch Kiss attacks? A place with enough strong Witches to pull that off... I don't like it.”

They walked to the roof access door in silence. Yuzu caught Karin's sleeve as she entered. Karin looked back at her sister.

Yuzu looked troubled. “What can we do to help Homura? We can't just run away to help her defend Mitakihara. But she doesn't have anyone and she's so sad. How do we help her?”

Karin sighed and looked down. “I dunno yet. We'll figure something out. We need more information first. If we can't think of anything, maybe we can ask Kyubey. Maybe he knows about some magical girls closer to Mitakihara who can help out.”

Yuzu pursed her lips unhappily. “I don't like it.”

“Haa, that's what I just said.”

The tardy bell rang, startling the sisters into scrambling down the stairs to return to class.

Homura woke from her nap around two, but didn't bother getting up. She lay on her side in the futon and stared at the storage tubs under Yuzu's bed while critiquing her performance in the current timeline. Her mind spun round and round and round, finding flaws, plucking their threads to try to figure out how to be better next time. It was an all-consuming process that swallowed her time until the Kurosaki girls called out their return greetings downstairs. The cheerful sound jostled her out of her mental spiral. Homura slowly got up and headed downstairs.

By the time she reached the main hallway, Yuzu was coming out of the kitchen and Karin had kicked her school loafers to one side and was busy putting on a pair of sneakers. Both looked up.

“Hey, Homura,” Karin said quietly. “How are you holding up?”

Homura stared for a moment then shrugged wordlessly.

Karin sighed. “I thought so.”

Yuzu looked sad and silently reached over and squeezed one of Homura's hands. When Homura looked up at her, she tried to give an encouraging smile. It came out strained.

Karin rolled her shoulders and stretched. “Put on your shoes. We need to go talk somewhere more private.”

Having expected a grilling of some sort, Homura calmly stepped forward and slipped a foot into one of her school loafers. “As you wish.”

Yuzu was about to put her shoes back on when Isshin burst into the hallway. “Girls! You're home! How was school?!”

Karin turned and directed a long-suffering grimace at the wall. Yuzu giggled awkwardly. “It was fine, Daddy. The English test was kind of tricky but I think I did okay.”

Isshin whipped his head around to look expectantly at Karin. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I think I did okay at everything, too. Math was easier than I expected. History sucked, though. Too many dates.” She shrugged. “No point worrying about it now. The damage is done.”

Isshin laughed. “Karin! Such pessimistic optimism! How do you do it?”

“Trade secret,” drawled Karin.

Isshin grinned. He glanced around at the girls and their shoes and became more serious. “Are you girls going somewhere? I wanted to talk with you three.”

Yuzu bustled in front of the other girls. “We're going to take Homura on a walk around Karakura. She's been in the house all day and we thought we could... talk. About... everything. In private. As girls. You know. If that's okay with you, Daddy?” Yuzu looked up at her father, vulnerable I'm-cute-and-sad-please-indulge-me face at full strength.

Isshin melted under the onslaught. “Yeah, yeah, that's fine. We'll talk after dinner though, all right?”

Yuzu smiled, cheerful in victory. “Okay, Daddy! I'll be back in time to cook!”

They hustled out the door with Isshin's admonitions to be careful and call me if you need me at their backs.

Homura followed the Kurosaki sisters through their neighborhood. She could see that both were wondering how to start. She didn't particularly care, so she left them to it until Karin finally broke the silence when they were near a park.

“So... have you been reading the news from Mitakihara today?”

“No.” Homura looked at her feet. “It would be nothing I did not already know. I do not see any point reading about it.”

Karin frowned. “The cops are looking into it, though. They seem to think there's a kidnapper or murderer and they're looking at some of your classmates. They might question you, so you should know how to answer. It sucks, but if you answer in a way that agrees with their theories you won't draw attention to yourself.”

Homura hummed noncommittally.

Yuzu wrung her hands. “You really need to be careful, Homura. At least figure out how to explain how you know Nagisa and the other girl in case they find you with them on a security camera like with the others.”

Homura stopped and blinked in surprise, then tilted her head to one side in confusion. “Nagisa...?”

The sisters stopped, too. Karin raised her eyebrows. “What, you don't know her? She was the first one to go missing.”

Homura furrowed her brow. “No, Mami Tomoe was the first to go missing.”

Yuzu shook her head. “The news said Nagisa Momoe went missing the day before Mami Tomoe. The hospital had videos showing Mami, Saya...ka? And... um...”

“Madoka,” Homura supplied.

“Yes, Madoka! There were videos showing them go toward the place where Nagisa was last seen a little bit earlier. And then no one saw Mami after that.”

Homura's face turned thoughtful. “May I see the article, please?”

Karin pulled out her phone, brought up the article, and handed it over. Homura's control of her face slipped; the sisters watched her face shift from neutral to disturbed, then grim. They were completely lost when Homura murmured, “Ah. The hospital. Her mother died. Of course,” answering her own question.

Karin stared for a moment then swept her hands out expectantly. “Well?”

Homura returned Karin's phone and tucked her hair behind her ear. Her cool mask was back in place. “Nagisa Momoe may or may not have been a magical girl from out of town. I did not know of her. There was a Witch by the hospital's bike racks. Miki and... Kyubey—” God, she hated saying that thing's cutesy name— “monitored it while Madoka found Tomoe. It defeated and ate Tomoe.” She paused and carefully considered her next words. “Momoe was probably... overcome... by the Witch before the others found it. I did not see Momoe when I fought the Witch.”

The Kurosaki girls frowned. Yuzu teared up. “That's horrible.”

Homura shrugged and stared off to one side, melancholy.

After a moment, Karin asked, “The news mentioned some unidentified redhead. Is that girl the Kyōko you told us about?”

Homura glanced back at them. “Yes. Kyōko Sakura. Her main territory was Kazamino City. She intended to take over Tomoe's territory after her death, but Miki contracted the day after Tomoe fell. Things between Miki and her were... messy. Sakura seemed to respect Miki at the end, though. How Sakura went from wanting to kill Miki to wanting to save her... I doubt I will ever know.”

They stood together in silence for a while until Yuzu quietly asked, “Are there enough magical girls left in Mitakihara? It seems like there are a lot of Witches there.”

“I do not know of any others, no,” answered Homura. She looked off into the distance and bitterly murmured, “I am sure... Kyubey... will contract more soon enough.” She briskly tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Not that new contractees will survive when Walpurgisnacht attacks.”

Homura belatedly realized her words could be taken in a very derogatory way when Karin drew herself up and looked indignant. She had not intended to insult potential magical girls like a snob with a superiority complex, but she didn't know how to fix the situation. Homura grit her teeth and clenched her fists in frustration. Why was talking to people so difficult?

But Karin didn't explode on her like Sayaka would have. Instead, she squinted at Homura for a moment, tilted her head to one side, and slowly asked, “What is Wall-whatever and why do you think newbies will be cannon fodder for it?”

Homura stared.

How?

Yuzu looked surprised for a moment, then eagerly joined in. “Is it something dangerous? Would it help if we come fight it with you?”

Stunned. Homura was stunned, suddenly blindsided by the prospect of courting the sisters as allies in the next timeline. They were amiable enough. If they were competent, veteran fighters— and their ease in combat against the Familiar suggested such— then— then— What if she could prevent Madoka— and Sayaka, really— from contracting, keep Mami and Kyōko alive, and bring in Karin and Yuzu as backup against Walpurgisnacht?

Her mind reeled with the possibilities. It would depend on how good they were in a real fight against a Witch. She bit her lip; it would also mean putting their lives in greater danger than they already were. Then again, whether or not they knew it, they had signed their death warrants the moment they accepted the Incubator's contract. It was a moral gray area. She seemed to live in a moral gray area these days. But even if she had to learn to fight with them, study the possibilities, figure out logistics... test them against Walpurgisnacht in this timeline as a reference for the next... Maybe...

And what if the first thing she did in the new timeline was seek out Nagisa Momoe? Was she really the Sweets Witch? Had she contracted before or after Homura's reset point? Would it be best to dissuade her from contracting altogether, or to explain the risks and lead her into making a better wish than whatever one she had regretted at her mother's deathbed? Morally, it would probably be better to dissuade her, but if the girl insisted on saving her mother, maybe she could be trained well enough to help against Walpurgisnacht.

If she could wrangle all four or five magical girls into cooperating with her... and really, Kyōko would probably be the only one who had to be convinced...

Maybe the girls in other timelines wouldn't believe what she said about the Incubator, the origin of Witches, and the truth of Soul Gems, but if she simply set up Walpurgisnacht as a common enemy to be defeated without trying to convince them of anything else...

So many possibilities she had never considered.

New hope burned in her chest.

The twins looked unsure about her. Homura swallowed hard and tried to restrain her sudden euphoria. “You do not know what you are offering. Walpurgisnacht is... massive. An enormous Witch. It is a collection of pieces of many other Witches that fuse into a Witch strong enough that it does not need a labyrinth. It is going to hit Mitakihara in about ten days and it will be like a hurricane. And it has so many Familiars.” She pursed her lips, then heavily continued, “You could very well die. For total strangers.”

Karin crossed her arms. “Risking our lives to protect people from Witches is what we signed up for. We were aware that we could be killed when we contracted. Whether we die here or in Mitakihara, it's all the same if it's for the sake of protecting people.”

Yuzu looked more frightened than her sister, but determinedly nodded her agreement.

Homura looked at Karin sideways. “If you say so. How much experience do you have?”

Karin gestured dismissively. “Over a year. We're no fledglings. We've been flying on our own for awhile now. We get more Familiars than Witches in Karakura because of the Hollows, but the Witches that do come here are nasty tricky.”

“And we fight the Hollows, too!” chimed Yuzu. “We've had a lot of practice.”

“That, too,” drawled Karin. “The Witch we're hunting right now is a stubborn one. We only ran into it once. It's been really good about hiding since. Keeps splintering off strong Familiars. How about you help us get that one out of our hair and we'll help you with this Wall-Knocker Witch?”

Homura's face twitched terribly. She tried to say something substantive, but all that came out was a strangled “Wall-Knocker?!”

Karin blinked, falsely oblivious. “What?”

Homura stared at her incredulously, worked her mouth in an attempt to speak, then burst into hysterical laughter. Not joyful laughter, but harshly startled laughter in the face of madness. Her own laughter actually frightened her. It was a brief bout, but unsettling all the same. Homura held a hand over the bottom half of her face and just looked at the ground and breathed.

The twins watched her for a long minute. At length, Yuzu quietly asked, “You were going to try to fight it by yourself, weren't you? You were going to beat it or die trying. And your friends are all gone, so without any help...” She trailed off into unhappy silence.

Homura met Yuzu's speculatively piercing eyes. It was obvious Yuzu wondered if Homura was outright suicidal or if she was simply extremely dedicated to protecting the city her friends had died for. It technically wasn't either, but the truth was too complicated so Homura chose to ignore the implied question. She straightened herself with a sniffle and brushed at her clothes.

Holding her head high, Homura pushed her hair over her shoulder and airily hedged, “I will have to see how well you fight against this Witch of yours. You have also mentioned fighting Hollows. What are they?”

Karin and Yuzu stared at her for a moment more before simultaneously turning to one another and having a silent conversation consisting entirely of the slightest of facial expressions. They seemed to agree that Karin would take the lead.

“Kyubey said he doesn't bother explaining Hollows to most girls because they don't really show up where there are a lot of Witches. Said the vast majority of magical girls will never run into one so he doesn't see the point in talking about them.”

Oh. Another of the Incubator's “you didn't ask” topics was about to bite her. Fantastic. When would she stop running into such things?

“To explain what Hollows are... hmm.” Karin paused and stared skyward, eyes unfocused. She cast about for a moment, almost seeming to be listening or looking for something, then focused on a point in the distance before looking at Homura. “I think I need to explain something else first so it will make sense. And I want to do a little experiment. Kyubey doesn't like talking about Hollows and everything so I'm curious if other magical girls can see Pluses.”

Homura didn't bother hiding her wariness. Things Kyubey Avoids Talking About could be a horror novel, in her opinion. “Experiment? And... Pluses?”

Karin waved her hands in a placating gesture. “I promise, it's just walking down a street and finding out whether or not you see something that most people can't. Pluses aren't dangerous. We actually try to help them. I wouldn't bother but if you can't see a Plus then it might change how I explain Hollows.”

Okay, now Homura was completely lost. “If you say so,” she said doubtfully.

Karin shrugged and scratched the back of her head with a sheepish grin. “Come on. It's not far.”

The twins started walking. Homura followed several paces behind them. They crossed the park, passed an elementary school, and ended up on a quiet residential street. The twins paused as if listening, then turned and entered the courtyard of an older apartment complex. It soon became apparent that they were heading for an older man whose back was to them.

“Excuse me,” began Yuzu. “Hello, Mister. Can we help you?”

The old man turned around and regarded them suspiciously. “Get out! You don't belong here,” he sneered.

“Neither do you, now, Gramps,” Karin snarled lazily.

“Karin!” hissed Yuzu.

The man puffed up like an angry cat. “Such an impudent little—! I should—!”

“Yeah, yeah, goddamn kids, get off my lawn, whatever. We got it.” Karin rolled her eyes. “What has you hanging around, Pops?”

Anger animated his reddening face. Unable to form the words to address the brat before him, he swung an arm around and jabbed a hand at the apartment building. “That! That wreck! I told the building manager over and over that he needed to do something about the goddamn rotting guard rails, but would he listen? No! And now look at me! And what does he do? Just patches up the stretch that finally broke. Irresponsible money-grubbing slob! Us oldsters rebuilt this country and all we ask for is a rail to help us get to our little holes in the wall without breaking our necks. Can't even do that much! Ungrateful—”

Yuzu dutifully listened and nodded along to the screed while Karin zoned out and glanced at the building dispassionately. Homura just stared.

There was a hexagonal metal plate riveted into the man's chest. A long chain trailed down from it and slithered across the dry grass toward the apartment building.

A metal plate riveted into the man's breastbone. What.

She had seen many stranger things, yes, but never outside a Witch's labyrinth. Never with a person who was acting so normal. Cantankerous, but normal. Except for the whole being riveted to a chain that tied him to a building like a dog thing.

Karin eventually interrupted the man's tirade about what he planned to get the building manager to do with a blunt, “You know you're dead, right, Pops?”

The old man turned to Karin and snarled, “Of course I do, you little snot! I'm old, not stupid!”

Karin lazily scratched her ear. “Sooo... how do you plan to accomplish anything?”

Yuzu pouted at Karin. Karin shrugged.

“I'll— I'll haunt him! I'll haunt him until he fixes the place! If anyone else has an accident, we'll haunt him together!”

“Hmm, hmm, I see.” Karin nodded sagely. “He won't be able to see or hear you so that wouldn't really go anywhere. It might feel great to scare the hell out of him, but how is he supposed to link it to fixing things?”

“W-well, do you have a better idea?!” he blustered.

Karin tilted her head toward her sister and fished out her phone. “Hey, Yuz, what city department would look into stuff like this?”

Yuzu brought a finger to her mouth and pursed her lips in thought. “Hmm. City planning? No, wait— code enforcement?”

“Sounds legit.” Karin tapped around on her phone a bit.

The man squinted at the girls suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“Using the magic of the internet to file a complaint for you from beyond the grave. You're welcome. Observe my sorcery.” She started dictating aloud to herself. “Dear Pencil-Pusher. I heard this old guy I used to run into fell at his apartment complex and died. He used to tell me how terrible the safety rails and stuff were and how dangerous it was and that he was afraid he'd fall and break his neck because the landlord wouldn't do anything. When I heard he actually did fall and break his neck, I went and looked myself. The place is rickety as hell and there are other old people there. Can you have a code inspector look at the place? If for no other reason than to make the other geezers feel safer. I'll attach a picture of the wreck. Thanks.” Karin snapped a quick photo and tapped the screen. “There. Happy?”

The old man was gawking. “That was the rudest— they'll never— you just— you little delinquent—!”

“Whatever. It'll liven up the day of some poor bureaucratic minion. Your issue has been addressed, your earthly burden is relieved, et cetera, et cetera.” Karin flung her left hand out in front of her. Her Soul Gem ring flared brilliant red and manifested a katana. “Have a nice trip, yeah?” In one smooth motion, she bopped the old man on the forehead with the pommel of the blade.

“You are the most disrespectful young lady I have ever—!”

The old man abruptly glowed and burst into fragments of blue light. A black butterfly wobbled around Karin's face irritably before floating up and disappearing.

Karin stared at the sky and swung her katana up to rest against her shoulder. “Jeez, what a chore.”

Yuzu looked at her sister reproachfully. “Did you really write those things in the message?”

“Pfft. Of course not. I just made a few notes so I can write something better when we get home.”

Yuzu pouted. “That was mean, Karin.”

Karin shrugged carelessly and let her katana disintegrate into red sparkles. “He was mean to you first.”

Yuzu rolled her eyes. “I'm capable of standing up for myself, Karin.”

“I know. You're just too nice to actually do it sometimes.”

“I'm getting better at it.”

Karin patted her twin's shoulder. “Yes, you are. I'm very proud.”

“Tease.”

“What just happened?”

Both twins broke off from their banter to look at Homura, who was confused and unhappy about her confusion.

Karin looked satisfied. “So you did see it.”

“What was that?” Homura was not unintelligent. This was like adding one and one, getting two, and still not trusting the answer, though.

“That was a Plus,” Yuzu said with a smile. “Most people call them ghosts.”

Homura stared. “Ghosts.”

“Yep! We get a lot of them here.”

Karin smirked. “Welcome to Karakura.”

Chapter Text

NEUN

TIMELINE X+N

The twins led Homura back to the park. They bought some drinks from a nearby vending machine and claimed a picnic table on a small hill. Homura sat across from the sisters and eyed them warily.

“So,” began Karin. “Pluses and Hollows.” She stared at her soda can seriously for a moment to gather her thoughts, then took a deep breath and looked up at Homura. “The fact that you have a Soul Gem means I don't have to convince you that souls are real, right?”

Homura nodded seriously. Karin looked a bit disappointed. Maybe she had expected a more dramatic reaction?

Karin took a deep breath. “Okay, so when you're alive, your soul is tied to your body by a literal chain, because evidently metaphors are too abstract for someone upstairs. When you die, your soul gets kicked out of your body and the chain breaks. Barring rare exceptional circumstances, your lifetime pass to that body is revoked and you can't get back in. Make sense so far?”

Homura nodded again.

Yuzu took over. “A lot of people... move on, cross over, or whatever name you give moving to the afterlife—”

“And there is an afterlife,” interrupted Karin.

“Yes, there is an afterlife. It's called Soul Society. We'll explain that more later. Anyway, a lot of people move on by themselves. But a lot of people also don't. They have regrets, or don't want to go, or are afraid, or have unfinished business. Sometimes they died so fast that they don't know they're dead. So they wander around, or stay near a certain place that was important to them. These souls are what most people call ghosts. The chain on their chests is what's left of their attachment to their bodies.”

Karin took over. “At that point, they're still pretty much themselves. Whole. But when the chain isn't attached to a living body, it starts to disintegrate from the end.” Karin's face turned grim. “When it gets to the plate on a soul's chest, the plate dissolves, too. Things get kind of vague here. That plate is connected to this part of a soul that is called the 'heart' or 'mind'. Metaphysically speaking, I mean. I think it's clearer to say their 'humanity'. When that's gone, the soul transforms into a monster called a Hollow. Most new Hollows are mindless bundles of instinct. Their instinct is to eat other souls.”

Eyes wide, Homura asked, “Why?”

Yuzu sadly answered, “They're left with animal instinct but they can tell something's missing. They have an actual hole in their bodies that represents their missing 'hearts'. So they hurt and they're empty and all they can think to do is try to fill themselves up with Whole souls— Pluses. But they can never fill that hole no matter how many Pluses they eat.”

“I think whoever came up with these terms was some kind of math nerd.” Karin mused. “Think of the names like Whole souls are positive integers, therefore Pluses. Think of newer Hollows as empty or zeroes. Then there is a kind of Hollow that loses itself so much it goes into negative integer territory and becomes something called a Menos. Plus-zero-minus.”

“What is a Menos, then?” Homura asked with dread.

Yuzu quietly said, “Hollows that get so hungry they start eating other Hollows. They're more powerful than normal Hollows. And the more they eat, the more powerful they get.”

“O-kay!” Karin said with a sharp clap. “So. We have ghosts wandering around, and hungry ghosts running around trying to eat the normal ghosts. Things can get pretty wild if they're left to their own devices. That's where shinigami come in.”

Homura tipped her head and looked at Karin skeptically. “You are saying shinigami are real?”

“Yep. Basically, shinigami are strong human souls. They come from Soul Society to gallivant around the World of the Living like ghost police. They find Pluses and help them cross over before they can turn into Hollows. They also fight Hollows and purify them. Most of the time, when a Hollow is purified, it goes on to Soul Society, too. Sometimes they were already monstrous enough in life that these creepy skeleton gates will pop up like the world's worst jack-in-the-box and drag their asses to Hell.”

Yuzu shivered. “I hate those gates.”

Homura stared blankly. “Hell is real, too?”

“For better or worse, yeah.”

Homura frowned thoughtfully. “Why do you get Hollows and Pluses here, then? I have never seen them before.”

Karin leaned back and took a swig of her soda. “That's because Karakura is something called a jūreichi. Basically, it's an area with a stupid-dense concentration of spiritual beings. There are a lot here to start with, so more get drawn in, on and on. Kyubey said that Witches mostly stick to areas with low... spiritual presence, I think. Witches mostly hunt normal humans. Hollows do hunt normal humans, but they're most drawn to strong souls because they're a more satisfying meal. Hollows are freakishly common in Karakura because of the whole jūreichi thing making even the people who can't see ghosts juuust strong enough to be extra delicious or something. A lot of people here have been exposed to the supernatural so much that they have at least some idea that weird invisible stuff is happening. Some of them may only know they suddenly feel like they should really avoid walking on a certain street or something, but they have at least some sense.”

“That's kind of what I was like,” Yuzu chirped. “Karin and my brother had always been able to see, but before I met Kyubey I could only hear some and see some blurs. And I got bad feelings about places sometimes. I got attacked by Hollows a few times. It's really scary when you can't see what's attacking you.”

Karin sipped her soda and set it down. “So anyway, just that little boost makes the people who live here some kind of delicacy to a Hollow. Kyubey said that most Witches prefer the boring, normal places because it would be more difficult to mentally snare people who have more latent spiritual power. Like... Witches' magic can kind of sneak up on most people and get a Witch's Kiss on them because they have no defenses. But someone with even a small boost in spiritual power takes more effort to snag. And you know how most Witches work— quiet, hidden, pretty much trick people into serving themselves for dinner. Think of them... umm...” Karin scratched her head and stared skyward in thought. “Like... hunters versus trappers. Oh! If Hollows are wolves, Witches are spiders. Generally speaking. There is some crossover... wolf spiders, hahaha I kill myself.” Karin grinned. “Anyway, Kyubey says that difference is why even potential magical girls are more likely to notice they've been lured into a labyrinth without getting Kissed and brainwashed.” Karin tilted her head. “Have you noticed a pattern like that? Kyubey told me about it, but I only have our experience to go on.”

Homura frowned and stared at the table in thought. She clearly remembered the moment in the initial timeline when she had suddenly come to her senses in her first labyrinth, some instinct startling her out of the mental grip of the Witch that had whispered soothing death to her. Had that been an innate defense before a Witch's Kiss completely bound her? And in the current timeline, she had seen a similar result when Madoka and Sayaka wandered into the labyrinth at the mall. And again, when Sayaka and Madoka weren't ensnared by the Sweets Witch. And again, when Madoka followed the flock of Witch-Kissed victims to the television station labyrinth and kept her wits about her enough to counter whatever orders the Witch had given her thralls. There had been examples in other timelines, but those were the most recent. On some level, Homura had always noticed the pattern; she had just never questioned the why of it. Little puzzle pieces shifted into place. Joy of joys, they made an answer that sparked another question.

“Yes,” Homura slowly answered after she rolled it over in her head a bit. She looked up at Karin seriously. “Are you implying there is a correlation between magical girl potential and... spiritual awareness, I think you said?”

“Mm-hmm,” hummed Yuzu. “Before you became a magical girl... well, I know you said you never saw anything, but did you ever feel anything? Did you ever walk down a perfectly normal street full of perfectly normal people and suddenly stop because you were certain something was... maybe hiding around a corner or something? Or even just felt like... like you couldn't trust your eyes when you looked at an empty space where no one was standing, and felt like someone should be there? Or someone was watching you? Things like that.”

“Especially near things like those little roadside memorials for people who got hit by a car or something. Those are dead giveaways. Ouch! Yuzu! Pun not intended!” The sisters tussled for a moment.

Homura tried to think back to the time before she went to Mitakihara. It seemed so long ago now. She hadn't gotten out much before her last surgery, anyway. But the more she thought about it...

“What about hospitals?”

The sisters blinked at her. “Oh, yeah,” said Karin. “Especially the bigger ones. Confused dead people can wander around in them if they don't cross over right away. My friend told me that a shinigami assigned to an area with a hospital in it is supposed to patrol the hospital at least once a week to clear them out.”

“Karin!” scolded Yuzu. “You make it sound like— like— sweeping up cobwebs or something.”

“Isn't it?” Karin deadpanned.

Yuzu heaved a long-suffering sigh. “You're incorrigible.”

Homura tilted her head curiously. “What friend told you about... assignments and patrols? Do you know the shinigami?”

Karin flushed and glanced at her sister, who was suddenly grinning delightedly. “Yuzu, don't you star—”

“Karin is friends with a highly-ranked shinigami.”

“We're not here to talk about Tōshirō.”

“Just all the things he's taught you, right?” Yuzu's smile was a bit too sweet to be called a smirk, but it was sly all the same. She looked at Homura and raised her hand to her mouth conspiratorially. “Most of the fancy explanations Karin just gave come from her asking her friend the same questions.”

“Stop saying friend like it's some kind of code word, Yuzu, it's creepy. And I only asked him because Ichi-nii may be smart but he sucks at explaining spirit stuff. And that was after I practically beat it out of him with all his 'wah wah you're safer if you don't know'.” Karin glared off to the side with a pout. “Such a waste of effort. Though I guess I can't blame him if those drawings are how Rukia explained things to him.”

Yuzu looked mildly confused. “Rukia's drawings are cute. They made sense to me.”

Karin grimaced. “Sure. Yeah. Whatever.”

Alarmed, Homura asked, “Your brother knows about magical girls?”

Yuzu choked on her soda and Karin's jaw dropped. The sisters snapped their attention back to their guest.

“What? No! No way!” denied Karin. “God, Ichi-nii would kill us, send us to Soul Society, hunt us down there, and give us the third degree all over again if he knew we contracted. Especially why we contracted.”

“No, he wouldn't,” Yuzu said with a calm roll of her eyes as she wiped her mouth. “He'd just put on his disappointed puppy face and make us wish he had.”

Karin considered this carefully. “Yeah, you're right. He's a total sucker for us.”

Homura eyed them both oddly. “If he does not know about magical girls, then what does he know and how does he know it?”

“Welllllll,” Karin hedged. “That's a long story. The super short version is: Surprise! Our big brother is a shinigami.”

Homura looked more confused. “I thought you said shinigami were... souls that came here from the afterlife?”

“Yep!” Karin took a swig of her soda.

“But... your brother is alive. Right?”

“Uh-huh,” chirped Yuzu.

“Then how...?”

“There's a long complicated story of family drama and diabolical experiments and all manner of spiritual shenanigans and dead-people politics and god-wannabe megalomaniacs,” Karin said while gesturing expansively with her soda, “but you can summarize it as 'Ichi-nii is a freak of nature who will get stronger and do something new every time you think you have him figured out.' He was always really, really strongly spiritually aware, but a few years ago his power just went off the charts and, hilarious as it sounds, he's stronger than a lot of dead people.” Karin grinned at Homura's bewildered stare. “This is our family's standard of normal. Evidently my brother even confuses and frustrates the dead guys. Tōshirō has a special twitchy facial expression just for when my brother pulls something weird. It's great.”

Homura tilted her head. “If your brother is so strong, why can he not sense that you are magical girls? Surely he must be able to tell you have power?”

“According to Kyubey, when he makes us magical girls all that happens is he focuses and concentrates the powers our souls already had. So spiritually aware people who knew us before we contracted felt our power get stronger and more controlled. It would be weird except the timing of the change is perfect.”

“What do you mean?”

Yuzu took over with a smile. “When we contracted, we were only two years younger than our brother was when his powers suddenly got stronger and he started seeing Hollows on top of Pluses. Then he got strong enough to fight. Kyubey says that like with a lot of things, girls mature spiritually sooner than boys. So us getting stronger was kind of expected.”

“Especially with our parentage,” Karin said with a smirk.

Homura frowned, but took the bait. “What about your parentage?”

“Oh, nothing much,” breezed Karin. “Just that our mom was spiritually strong enough to fight Hollows as an uncontracted human and the old man is a shinigami. Former captain, if you can believe it. I know I can't.”

Homura froze in shock. A moment later, she sputtered, “What? B-but— How? If he's a— a spirit, how is he a doctor here? How does he have human children? And his power— I didn't sense...” She trailed off. Actually, she hadn't bothered really paying attention to power in anyone but the twins. The whole town was like a faint buzz of magic in her senses, now that she thought about it. Isshin hadn't particularly stood out, though.

“My friend explained that,” answered Karin. “The shinigami invented these fake bodies— gigai. If they need to blend in with the living for some reason, they possess the fake bodies. Then they ditch the body if they have to fight. When Tōshirō visits me, sometimes he borrows a fake body so I won't look nuts talking to thin air and he can help me destroy other teams in soccer. He doesn't feel super strong then, either. He told me that strong shinigami have to seal a lot of their power when they come to the World of the Living and that there are special fake bodies that can seal even more. His guess is that Goat-Face has something like that.”

“Wait, your friend guesses? Didn't your father tell you about this?”

Karin snorted. Yuzu laughed. “We're waiting for Daddy to tell us. We got the basics of the situation when we got our brother to tell us about all the spirit stuff. He didn't think some of the technical stuff was important when Daddy told him and he wasn't very good at explaining some of what he did know.”

“So I asked Tōshirō, my walking shinigami encyclopedia.” Karin smiled smugly. “The old man doesn't know we know about him. We convinced Ichi-nii not to tell him. We're gonna see how long it takes him to decide to tell us and then be totally unsurprised or mess with him some other way. Ichi-nii agrees it should be hysterical.”

Homura stared at them strangely and pondered the Kurosaki family's sheer bizarreness.

“I think we got off track,” said Yuzu. “Shinigami purify Hollows by fighting them and breaking their masks with their special weapons called zanpakutō. Every shinigami— every soul— has a different weapon. They all start out as swords, but stronger souls sometimes change them into other weapons that match their personalities— you know, like magical girls have. When a zanpakutō breaks a Hollow's mask... um...”

“Math again, kinda,” Karin supplied. “The shinigami is pretty much a super strong Plus. So they stab the Hollow with all their... plus-ness... and it cancels out the... minus-ness and purifies the other soul. I hope that makes sense. Shinigami also use their zanpakutō to send normal Pluses to Soul Society by stamping them with the pommel like I did earlier. When the weapon purifies a Hollow, it then also sends the purified spirit to Soul Society. It's a neat little setup.”

“So you see,” Yuzu finished cheerily, “Shinigami are to Hollows as magical girls are to Witches. Kinda.”

Homura's mind whirled, connecting dots, asking questions, and generally feeling overwhelmed. I wonder if they've followed that thought to its logical end. Or could the Incubator have told them about the origin of Witches? Do they know about it all but aren't saying anything because they think I don't know? She set that line of questioning aside for another time.

“You say these— zanpakutō?” Homura said slowly. “You say our weapons are like them. If that is true, why do we have to give Grief Seeds to Kyubey? Should our weapons not purify them, if the analogy holds true?”

“Kyubey said our weapons are imperfect replicas of zanpakutō,” said Yuzu.

“Tōshirō told me that shinigami get their zanpakutō by being given a blank sword that absorbs the shinigami's power over time,” said Karin. “So they're given something to focus their power as quickly or slowly as they need. Kyubey said that what he does when he makes our Soul Gems is force our souls to crystallize and focus our power by themselves— and very quickly. So the weapons we get are approximations of what we'll get if we become shinigami when we go to Soul Society. They're just not complete in this form. Not enough to truly purify Witches.”

“Our weapons can purify Hollows, though,” added Yuzu. “But Witches aren't Hollows.”

Homura braced a finger along her jaw line and leaned on one elbow, a vague idea bubbling in her mind. Aside from something about that striking her as plain wrong... “If magical girl weapons work on Hollows, do shinigami weapons work on Witches?”

Both sisters shrugged.

“We don't know, and Kyubey says he doesn't know, either,” said Karin. “He said that even though Witches are similar to Hollows, they work differently enough that he's never heard of a shinigami deliberately seeking out a labyrinth the way they deliberately hunt Hollows. I'm good at math, but when he starts talking inversion this and quantum that, he loses me. It boils down to Witches being so good at hiding themselves Kyubey has never heard of a shinigami finding one. Or at least not surviving finding one. He told us that, hypothetically speaking, a strong Witch could probably trap a weak shinigami.”

Yuzu put her elbows on the table and propped up her chin. “Kyubey says that's why magical girls are so important— shinigami can't sense labyrinths, but magical girls can. Magical girls protect people from the Witches. He said that a long time ago, the shinigami noticed magical girls purifying Hollows and helping Pluses cross over, and that it... didn't go very well.”

“He said shinigami get twitchy about living humans having shinigami-like powers,” Karin clarified, “and they were especially stabbity about it in the past— Ichi-nii's stories back that up— so it's a neat little bonus for Kyubey that Witches tend to avoid the more spiritually-dense areas where the most shinigami are. It helps him protect magical girls. Historically, he had to worry about protecting magical girls from the Witches, the Hollows, and the shinigami.”

“Kyubey actually took a risk contracting us,” said Yuzu. “Usually, he avoids the jūreichi wherever it happens to be at a particular point in history.”

“That's why Kyubey doesn't actually come to Karakura. We have to go out of town a ways to give him our Grief Seeds.”

“We've tried to tell him that the shinigami seem to be more tolerant now, but he refuses to approach the shinigami. He saw what happened when the Quincy— a group of humans who were spiritually gifted enough to fight Hollows— wouldn't obey the shinigami.”

Homura raised a brow. “And that would be?”

“Genocide,” Karin declared bluntly. “Over two hundred years ago. Ichi-nii and Tōshirō both say the hardliners in the shinigami government that pushed that agenda all got assassinated in the last war, though, and the new government hasn't gone after those survivors they know about. Since the war, anyway.”

Regret weighed on Yuzu's face. “We wish Kyubey would work with the shinigami, but we can't blame him for wanting to protect the magical girls. He said he had contracted a few Quincy girls and he saw them get killed. I guess that stays with you.”

Homura furrowed her brow, trying to reconcile what she knew of the Incubator's methods with what the twins were telling her. Aside from the girls ascribing such foreign concepts as concern to the Incubator, she could kind of see how the two angles could mesh, but would have to think on it. However...

“If Kyubey avoids Karakura, how did he contract you?”

Karin rolled her empty soda can in circles along its rim. “That's an interesting story, actually. That Tokyo field trip we're using as cover with Goat-Face really did happen.”

Yuzu smiled sadly. “We met Kyubey at the botanical gardens.”

Homura leaned forward and held her chin in her hands. She stared intently at Karin. “Tell me.”

Karin rolled her shoulders, took a deep breath, and began to tell the story.

Chapter Text

ZEHN

[THE SET OF ALL TIMELINES FROM (X) TO (X+N+54)] - [14 MONTHS]

“Couldn't the class trip be to somewhere more exciting?” asked Karin. “I mean, come on. We're leaving elementary school. Reward us for not demolishing the building or something.” She sighed, one cheek puckered as she sucked on the straw of her juice box, and looked out at the sprawl of the Koishikawa Botanical Gardens. Trees were budding, bright new leaves unfurling and spreading out under the mild sunshine of an unusually early spring. Most of the trees in the arboretum were still in winter drab when seen from a distance, the swath of eerie gray-brown dotted with evergreens here and there.

“But it's interesting here! And so pretty!” gushed Yuzu. She pried apart the segments of her orange, the last item in her bento. Most of the girls' classmates were finished and wandering around now that the tour portion of the day was over.

“Hmph. I guess,” Karin conceded. “It'd be better if the cherry trees were blooming.”

Yuzu's face brightened as she swallowed a segment of her orange. “Oh! Maybe we can bring Onii-chan here for cherry blossom viewing before next school year starts! Maybe— maybe it could cheer him up? A bit?”

Yuzu looked down sadly. Karin gnawed on her straw thoughtfully. Their brother hadn't been the same since he lost his powers over a year ago. She and Yuzu had managed to coerce the stubborn boy to explain the basics of what had happened during the entire shinigami debacle, so she understood why he could no longer see or hear ghosts— no, Pluses— and Hollows. Karin understood it, but couldn't help feeling bitter that the burden to win a metaphysical war fell on her brother's shoulders when there was an entire otherworldly military that was supposed to handle that kind of thing. Her friend Tōshirō had since explained some of the failures, but even he quietly admitted it was shameful. So her brother had thrown away a core pillar of his very being for the sake of something bigger than himself. That was his choice, yes, but it was painful watching him slowly list off center for lack of anything to replace that missing pillar.

On some level, Karin and Yuzu both knew they couldn't fix their brother. The problem wasn't something they could change. It didn't stop the girls from trying their best to get their brother to live rather than just exist.

Ichigo was very, very good at faking contentment with his life without his powers. Perhaps good enough to fool himself. For now.

Karin and Yuzu, however, were very, very good at reading their brother.

The girls were certain he wasn't as well-adjusted as he tried to force himself to be. His brittleness was showing more with every passing month. But there was nothing to be done. The Thirteen Divisions had mostly withdrawn from Karakura, leaving the humans to help their savior pick up the pieces of his life. Mostly. Karin found herself bitter rather than furious only because she sometimes spotted different shinigami silently perched on light poles or rooftops looking just as helpless, frustrated, and unhappy as she felt as they watched her brother walk by without noticing them. If beings such as they looked so defeated when seeing her brother...

Well. Let them. Karin and Yuzu would never admit defeat.

Karin rolled the straw from one corner of her mouth to the other. “Yeah. And if he says no, we'll tell him we'll ask Dad and he'll drag Ichi-nii along by the collar if he has to, so he should come with just us to avoid that. I don't think it'll come to that, though. Ichi-nii's still a total sucker for us.”

Yuzu hummed in agreement around the last of her orange. The girls stood in peaceful companionship for several minutes, quietly appreciating a nearby carefully-plotted field of early-blooming crocuses, multicolored hyacinths, and snowdrops. Then Yuzu's eyes wandered toward the treeline of the arboretum.

“Hey, Karin. Isn't that Kazuya? What is he doing?”

Karin glanced over. Sure enough, her soccer teammate's back was turned to them as he took halting steps toward the trees. He stopped at the treeline and cocked his head as though listening to something. After a few moments, he walked into the trees with an oddly swaying gait.

Karin frowned in confusion. “What is he doing?” She glanced around. Finding few people, she sighed and threw her empty juice box in the trash. “Come on, Yuzu. Let's fetch the idiot before he manages to get lost.”

They put their empty bento in the stack of all the other empty ones and set out for the trees, Karin marching grumpily and Yuzu smilingly looking at the flowers. They followed the path into the wood.

“Hey! Kazuya! Where are you?” Karin shouted when they were several yards in. They heard a rustle off to their right and saw the boy far off the path, shuffling through the carpet of dead leaves. “Kazuya! You idiot! Stay on the path!” Karin growled in frustration and charged off into the trees after him. Yuzu looked up and down the empty path, made an unhappy sound, and hurried after her.

Karin caught up with her friend and grabbed his shoulder to turn him around. “Didn't you hear me? Come ba—!” She was cut off mid-word by the boy elbowing her in the chest and knocking the air out of her. Yuzu shouted her name as Kazuya shrugged her hand off his shoulder.

“Stop that,” he said with the thick voice of the half-asleep. He started to wander away again.

Yuzu hovered over Karin as she panted for a moment. Furious, Karin stood up and shouted, “What the hell do you think you're doing?!”

Kazuya came to a wobbly stop. He glanced over his shoulder at them. Distractedly, he said, “I need to go to her. She's lonely.” Deeming that all the explanation needed, he turned and resumed his walk. Karin made to stomp after him, but Yuzu held her back.

“Karin,” Yuzu whispered urgently. “What was that thing on his neck?”

Karin blinked and looked at her sister in confusion. “Thing on his neck?”

“Didn't you see it? It was like a tattoo... or maybe a really big spider.”

Karin made an incredulous sound. “What are you saying?”

Yuzu let go of Karin and wrung her hands. “I-I don't know. But Kazuya isn't acting right. And he's not talking right. I think something is wrong. Something feels weird.”

Karin squinted after her friend, who was still swaying his way through the trees in the distance. “You're right. That wuss wouldn't dare hit me.” She scowled and started following him more carefully. “Come on.”

The girls jogged after the boy and carefully approached him as he stopped in a clearing. The place didn't seem to be anything special— three big, rotted tree stumps were piled to one side. The earth was overturned over a wide area from gardeners digging up roots. Three new trees in burlap sacks were nearby, their bases supporting an assortment of shovels, hoes, and rakes. Kazuya turned to his left to dazedly stare at... nothing, it seemed. It gave the girls a chance to see the side of his neck, though.

There was a purple mark about five centimeters in diameter stamped on his neck like a tattoo. As the girls drew closer, they saw that the main part was a solid but warped and wavy five-pointed star with a small blank normal star cut out of the center. Thin lines connected each twisted arm of the big star at their middles, implying a pentagon shape behind the star. Attached to the bottommost side of the pentagon was a small bell-like shape.

“What is that?” Karin said in an undertone. Slowly, she reached toward her dazed friend and poked the mark with one finger. She barely had time to shudder before Kazuya backhanded her in the face.

“Stop that,” he said drowsily. “It's my invitation.”

Usually, Karin would roar at the boy and charge. Instead, she held her cheek and stared at her friend in horror.

Yuzu anxiously asked, “Karin, what is it?”

“That mark. It feels like— like a Hollow. But not really. Kinda? It's weird. It feels like— It feels like—” Karin cast her mind back, trying to remember what it reminded her of. Something Tōshirō had taught her? Wait. Not quite. She landed on it: It reminded her of what she felt one wet day when Tōshirō had gotten frustrated with her practicing soccer in a thunderstorm and had finally resorted to snaring her with a binding kidō so he could haul her to shelter “for her own good.” This mark felt Hollow-like and restrictive. Even barely touching it, she could feel it try to snag her, too. Some Hollow-thing had bound Kazuya.

Karin didn't waste time explaining to Yuzu. Face determined, she slapped her hand on Kazuya's neck and did the only thing she knew could break a binding like that: She flared her reiatsu until its power exceeded that in the binding and shattered it. Kazuya's eyes rolled up into his head and he slumped to the ground, unconscious. Karin stood panting over his body, hand still outstretched.

“Karin! What happened?!”

Karin looked at Yuzu. “Something like a Hollow had him in some kind of binding spell. I broke it like I broke Tōshirō's this one time. We need to get out—”

That wasn't very nice, a girlish voice echoed in their heads.

The sisters froze and stared at one another, eyes wide.

He was going to be my friend, the voice lamented.

“What— what's that?” Yuzu whimpered.

It's so lonely here.

“I— I dunno.” Karin felt hunted.

You should come instead. It will be fun.

Karin glanced around. “Grab a shovel, Yuzu.”

I'm so lonely.

“But—”

Won't you come meet me?

Karin's skin crawled with a sense of incoming attack. “Grab a shovel, Yuzu!”

We can be together forever!

Reality warped around them. They each managed to grab a shovel before the dead leaves beneath their feet sprouted vividly purple grass and the air was filled with the tinkling of many small bells. Several boxwood plants burst out of the earth between the girls and Kazuya, quickly thickening into an impassable hedge as tall as a ten-story building. The girls stared at it until startled by the sound of bells suddenly growing louder. Both turned and found that the arboretum had been replaced by a bizarre garden of gigantic flowers. Stems of lily of the valley formed an arched pathway, their dangling blossoms the size of lampshades ringing like wedding bells. Stalks of foxglove three stories tall jingled like sleigh bells in the breeze. Green fairies the size of cats cavorted through the air, jousting with over-sized slotted spoons of varying shapes. Chiming laughter bubbled out of their bright blue frog heads. Normal-sized calla lilies formed a green and white carpet beneath the tree-size stalks of many differently colored daffodils, irises, and poppies. In the distance, there appeared to be a forest of towering delphiniums in vivid blues and purples. Flaming clusters of sugar cubes drifted across the pale green sky like clouds. No trace of the drab woods could be found in the riot of color.

The girls gaped and instinctively huddled together, holding the shovels defensively.

“What's happening?!” shrilled Yuzu.

“I don't know! I don't know!” Karin was entirely out of her depth. She wondered if this was what hallucinations felt like.

“How do we get out?!”

Karin cast about desperately. She turned back to the boxwood and started madly hacking at it with her shovel. Yuzu got the idea and they quickly fell into rhythm, one striking while the other drew back. The hedge grew thicker and pushed back at them. The twins recoiled.

You can't leave, the girlish voice said sternly.

“Why the hell not?!” shrieked Karin.

I'm lonely.

“Too bad!”

Come meet me.

Karin's anger overtook her fear. “Oh, I'll come meet you, all right,” she said darkly. She brandished her shovel and turned to stalk down the surreal path. “Come on, Yuzu. I think we gotta get out through her.” Yuzu didn't argue. She fell into step behind her sister, carrying her shovel defensively and nervously searching the jungle of flowers for threats.

They traveled through the lily tunnel safely and emerged into a wide field of many-colored hyacinths. These, at least, were of average size. Their perfume was overwhelming. The hyacinths were corralled into oddly-shaped flower beds by knee-high boxwoods trimmed into neat hedges around gravel paths. The girls froze again, spotting movement.

In plain sight, spread out among the hyacinths, were odd antique telescopes mounted on tripods. All were facing away from the girls, toward a massive oleander thicket. Dangling beneath the telescopes, in the middle of the tripod legs, were several glass phials filled with multicolored liquids. They glittered and tinkled like wind chimes. The girls first thought the movement they had seen was due to these shiny mobiles. They were proven wrong when all of the telescopes began walking on their tripod legs. Each telescope wobbled its way to a new position, all steadfastly aimed at the oleander thicket.

“What kind of place is this?” whispered Karin, eyes wide. Yuzu was too afraid to speak.

The girls observed everything for several minutes. All the tangled, zigzagging paths seemed to ultimately lead to the oleander thicket. There was a stone arch around a shadowed area, implying an entry. There were some other kind of unnaturally large flowers to either side of the door, their bright colors sprawled out over perhaps six meters on each side.

Karin weighed the risks. “I think we don't really have any choice but to go to the door-thing.”

Yuzu chewed her lip. “What if the... the... things attack us?”

Karin mustered all the courage and bravado she could. “Then we beat them to pieces with shovels, of course. Come on.” Looking far more confident than she felt, Karin aggressively marched down the nearest path. Yuzu swallowed hard and followed her sister with a determined face, holding her shovel with a white-knuckled grip.

Their trek was uneventful. The strange telescope creatures seemed content to stare at the oleanders and made no move to stop them. As they approached the oleander thicket, they recognized the flowers to either side of the stone arch as spires of snapdragons of various colors. Each vivid blossom was about the size of a baseball.

As they neared the stone arch, Yuzu said with forced cheer, “W-well, it's really weird in here, but it's pretty, too. Don't... don't you think? Maybe... maybe we're overreacting and we just need to talk to a lonely ghost.”

The snapdragons exploded.

The girls screamed and ducked. Then they looked up at the sound of ominous waves of buzzing moving around them.

Snapdragons were still bursting from their stalks like a wave of startled crows. Each flower seemed to be the head of a hummingbird the size of a crow. Countless wingbeats hummed and buzzed as the snapdragons swarmed around the girls.

“K-kariiin,” Yuzu whispered fearfully. “What— what do we do?”

Karin shifted her grip on her shovel and eyed the birds— flowers? One flower opened and released a screech. The other flower-birds took up the screeching. Then they started diving at the girls from all directions, snapdragons opening as if pinched to allow the creatures to release tongues of flame.

“Hit them! HIT THEM! HIT THEM!” The hysterical edge made Karin's voice almost unrecognizable.

The next several minutes were a blur to Karin when she looked back on the fight later. There had been a lot of screaming and dragon-like screeches and swinging around of yard tools and the feel of feathers brushing against their faces. Karin fell back on anger to escape the fear and roared as she flared her reiatsu the best she could. She succeeded in knocking back a wave of snapdragons. From then on, she focused her reiatsu into the shovel the way she usually did with her soccer ball when she fought Hollows. Yuzu fared worse, but when Karin rallied, she did as well. Unfortunately, she wore out quickly. Yuzu fell to her knees and shielded her head with her arms, screaming. Karin staggered over to her and tried to defend both of them, but was overwhelmed by the multitude. Her swings became sloppy. Finally, there was an unlucky moment in which she completely missed her mark and left her face wide open to a screeching snapdragon. She stared with wide eyes and actually saw a flame sparking between the petals when a spiked metal ball rocketed into it from the side, trailing a chain behind it as it scattered feathers and petals. The chain went taut and snapped the metal ball back the way it had come. Karin gawked and followed its course to its origin.

An older teenage girl with long dark hair had waded into the fray, wielding a meteor hammer with deadly accuracy. Her movements as she manipulated the weapon were sharply graceful. The snapdragons abandoned Karin and Yuzu and honed in on the new threat. The girl grinned eagerly, something unhinged in her eyes. Karin wobbled down to her knees next to her sister and watched. Yuzu hesitantly sat up and joined her.

The teenager made brutally short work of the creatures. The twins had never seen such a weapon in real life. The way the girl manipulated the swift, chained weapon by looping it around her extremities and kicking strained the mind. In her hands, the projectile was like a close-quarters cannon. Within minutes, all that remained were scattered piles of smoldering feathers.

The stranger stomped on one snapdragon that was still writhing and breathing smoke. She twisted her heel as though snuffing out a discarded cigarette and turned to face the twins. The older girl wore a white sleeveless kimono top with pale silvery blue trim. Her white skirt was more Western, short and slightly flared with a lacy silver-blue petticoat peeking below the hemline. There was a minimal obi around her waist, white with accents in gray and silvery blue. It was decorated with a glittery snowflake clip. She wore white platform boots, laced in silver-blue up to just below her knees. Her ensemble was topped off by a choker and hair band in the same silvery blue, with what looked like a large snowflake-cut aquamarine nestled in a white bow on the left side of her head. It was a very cute outfit. It was a jarring contrast to the hard, predatory face of the girl who wore it.

In lieu of a greeting, the girl grudgingly said, “Well, you've stayed alive and sane this far in. And you were smart enough to arm yourselves and fight. I guess that counts for something.”

The twins just stared blankly.

I have rarely seen anyone I have not contracted perform as well as they did, Yuki, a cheerfully androgynous voice echoed in their heads. The twins twitched in surprise. A white cat... rabbit... thing with red eyes and markings and a fluffy tail stepped out from behind the teenager. You two would make magnificent magical girls!

Karin's face twisted in suspicious incredulity. “Magical girls?”

“I don't have time for this,” the girl snapped. “Explain while I fight the Witch if you're so keen on them, Kyubey.”

All right! The creature smoothly walked over to the twins, regarded them for a moment, then climbed into Yuzu's lap. Make a barrier for us, though, Yuki?

“Hmph. Fine. Let's move. I have things to do.” The girl breezed past them and into the stone arch, idly swinging the dangling mace at her side.

Karin stared after her and flatly said,“What is going on here.”

I can explain that! the creature... said? Thought? I am called Kyubey. That was one of my magical girl contractees, Yuki Yubari. Let us go watch Yuki fight the Witch. I will explain more there.

Yuzu looked up at Karin uncertainly. Karin shrugged and stood. Kyubey scampered up to Yuzu's shoulders as she rose. They cautiously entered the stone arch and found themselves in a long, dim tunnel formed of dense walls of oleander. When they reached the end, they found Yuki standing tensely with her hands on her hips, slowly looking the place over. The twins stood awkwardly for a moment.

“Um... w-what are you doing?” Yuzu eventually asked.

Yuki didn't even turn around. “Only an idiot would run in without assessing their opponent and surroundings,” she said snidely. “That stupid idiot soon becomes a dead idiot.”

“O-oh.” Yuzu looked down at her feet.

Karin scowled. “You don't have to be so rude.”

Yuki glanced over her shoulder coldly. “You're the ones rudely interrupting my mission.”

The girls flinched.

Yuki..., Kyubey sighed. In their heads. Somehow.

Yuki huffed. “Fine.” She clasped her hands in front of her, then flung them out and behind her. Translucent chains of ice materialized from her palms and spread to form a faintly glowing chain link fence. “There. Your barrier.” Yuki turned to smile sweetly at the twins and cooed, “If you get out from behind this and get in my way, I'll kill you.” She turned and sauntered into the clearing, casually swinging her meteor hammer again.

The twins got their first proper view of the clearing. It was a wide, bowl-shaped garden with many terraces neatly planted with an assortment of flowers, ferns, and vines. The edges of the bowl disappeared into the massive oleander hedges surrounding the clearing. Above the oleander walls was a fancy greenhouse-like roof of many panes of glass decorated by swirls of wrought iron. The pale green sky and burning sugar cube clouds were visible through the exquisite ceiling. At the center of the bowl was an improbably large datura tree in full bloom. It was contorted oddly, ropes of poison ivy seeming to strangle it. Yuki stalked down a set of shallow stairs toward the datura.

Are you here to play with me? the girlish voice the twins had heard earlier asked hopefully.

Yuki laughed mockingly and leaped forward, meteor hammer spinning madly. When she landed on the grass, she lashed out with a foot and launched the hammer straight at the tree trunk. It landed with an ear-splitting crack of splintering wood. The tree writhed, trumpet-shaped flowers ringing like cow bells.

Mean! That hurt! I hate you! screamed the voice... the tree?

Yuki only laughed and retrieved her hammer to attack again.

The massive tree's branches shivered out of their stillness and into unnatural movement, limbs striking at Yuki like flails. Yuki stayed just within range and used her meteor hammer to strike every which way. Every few strikes, she would dart in closer and strike at the trunk again. The tree soon bent its lowest branches down like a cage. The poison ivy grew rapidly and helped shield the trunk. Yuki backed off and resumed picking off branches while looking for a weak point.

As I was saying, the small white creature said as if a tree trying to murder a girl was an everyday occurrence, Yuki is a magical girl. This place is a labyrinth. Labyrinths are made by Witches. Witches are cursed and twisted spirits who lure humans to their labyrinths to prey on them. Their presence spreads despair throughout human society. I offer a contract to girls with magical potential so that they can become magical girls and fight Witches.

“Spirits?” Karin hummed thoughtfully. “So, Witches are kind of like Hollows? And these, uh, magical girls— they fight Witches like shinigami fight the Hollows?”

Kyubey went very still on Yuzu's shoulder. After a moment its tail resumed its slow swishing. You know about Hollows and shinigami? it asked with mild surprise.

“Yeah.”

“Uh-huh,” said Yuzu as she craned her head to try to see the creature's face.

How interesting! Not many people do. You must have extraordinary magical girl potential!

“You— you think we could be magical girls?” Yuzu gasped. “Like— like her?” She looked down at Yuki's ongoing battle. The girl had begun to trigger an explosion of ice with every impact of her hammer, leaving stubborn icicles on the murderous limbs. “She's so strong.”

You could easily surpass her. Your latent power is unusually high. The creature cocked its head, beady red eyes staring at Karin. It is not surprising, given you can see Hollows and shinigami. It paused again, then cocked its head the other direction. How do you know what they are? I was under the impression the shinigami developed a method to erase humans' memories of them.

“We're from Karakura,” Karin answered flatly. “They try memory-wiping people, but there's no point even trying on a lot of us who can actually see them. It may work for a few days but the modifier wears off fast.”

Kyubey sat up straight. Ah. That explains much. I avoid Karakura. It has been a dangerous place for over a century now.

“Because of the jūreichi?” Yuzu asked curiously.

Kyubey went still again. You really do know a lot! It said cheerfully. Yes. Too many Hollows and shinigami collect in one place. Thankfully, most Witches avoid Karakura, too. People there are generally more difficult to lure into a labyrinth. Not impossible, but more difficult. I do not have any contractees in Karakura, though, so I do not know how many Witches do take the chance.

“Wait, these Witch things could be in Karakura?!” Karin asked urgently. “How could we not know about them?!”

They hide themselves in their labyrinths. You would not feel them like you can sense a Hollow because they create a pocket dimension. Most of their reiatsu is contained within these dimensions. They only expose small amounts to act as lures. The creature shifted and settled more comfortably around Yuzu's neck. The humans in the jūreichi generally have at least slightly elevated reiatsu, so Witches would have to expose more of themselves to successfully lure someone. That would put them at risk.

“O... kay...,” Karin said. “And what do they do to the people they lure in?”

Why, they kill them and eat them, of course. Kyubey said while calmly grooming a paw. That is their greatest similarity to Hollows, really. Witches sometimes eat the physical bodies too, though.

The girls stared at the creature in horror.

The splintering of wood, clanging of bells, and a chilling roar snapped their attention back to the battle. The fragments of ice Yuki had been leaving on branches all around the tree burst and shot chains of ice in every direction, binding the tree's limbs. The tree thrashed and screamed. The garden echoed with the cracking and booming of the tree ripping its roots up out of the ground to fight with.

The twins gasped as Yuki dodged and wove and repeatedly nailed the roots with her meteor hammer, leaving ice behind once again.

Kyubey just continued placidly swishing its tail. Do not worry. Yuki is a veteran. She is not particularly powerful, but she is wonderfully clever in battle. As I was saying, I do not have any contractees specifically defending Karakura. You both have great potential. If you want to defend your town, please consider making a wish and contracting with me to become magical girls!

Both girls stared at Kyubey incredulously, torn between its absurd conversation and Yuki's bizarre battle.

“Make a wish?!”

“Really become a magical girl?!”

Of course! I can not expect you to risk your lives without compensation. I have been told humans consider that the height of rudeness.

The Witch-tree shrieked in frustration. Poison ivy vines whipped out from the tree's center, seeking Yuki. The magical girl grinned fiercely and allowed the vines to ensnare her. She laughed as she was engulfed in vines and hauled toward the hidden tree trunk.

“Oh, no!”

“What is she doing?!” Karin looked at Kyubey and pointed to the battle. “Aren't you worried about her?!”

Kyubey somehow used telepathy to express the sound of clicking one's tongue. Of course not. As I said, Yuki is brilliant in battle. She takes more risks than most girls I have contracted, but the responsibility for how she uses the powers she purchased belongs to her. Even if I had no confidence in her skills, I can not do anything if she decides to throw her life away for joy of the battle.

Karin looked disturbed. “That's— that's really cold.”

Is it? Kyubey piped up curiously. Humans are so contradictory. I thought free will and sacrifice were all but sacred to your people. Warriors past and present are lauded for similar decisions. What makes Yuki so different?

Said magical girl could be heard laughing eerily from deep in the crashing foliage.

Yuzu looked dismayed. “But— but she's not a soldier!”

Kyubey blinked up at them. Is she not? She learned of a threat and chose to fight it despite risk to her life. Does that not make her a warrior?

“But— but—” Yuzu floundered.

“But she's so young,” Karin finished.

“And we're even younger,” Yuzu said uncertainly.

So? Human children have ascended the thrones of their countries and aided in battle and labor since ancient times. The sheltered view your people have of children in this era is still new. I do not understand the change. Kyubey sighed. I thought willingness to fight for a cause was something respected across age barriers. Even the Japanese are familiar with Jeanne d'Arc. She contracted with me when she was just thirteen years old. Three years later, she led armies in support of her king. Westerners now exalt her as a minor deity and respect her faith in her cause. Why is any adolescent who risks their life for a cause held to a different standard? Are their sacrifices less worthy because of their age?What of those who stand and fight when their elders fail their duties? Do their choices become laudable only if they are the last line of defense and thus arguably have no choice?

Karin and Yuzu thought of their brother, who had been a sixteen-year-old boy when he had gone to war with a man who aspired to godhood. They had no answer.

This “childhood” concept of yours is nebulous and subjective at best. My people have observed that “childhood” is a sliding scale throughout time and generally ends when a young human can no longer be sheltered from the realities of life. Technological advancement has allowed wealthier civilizations to shelter their young longer, yes, but that is an artificial buffer which will inevitably be broken.

Discomfited, the girls were glad to be distracted by the battle once again. A brilliant flash of blue-white light flickered from deep within the foliage. Karin recognized the sensation of mounting reiatsu.

Oh, Yuki is going to do something interesting, Kyubey said with all the concern of someone commenting on a sale in a grocery store ad.

Thin ice chains blasted out of many gaps in the foliage. Each rapidly extended outward while developing a sea urchin-like mass of ice spikes at their ends. For one moment, the icy flails drew taut and held still. In the next instant, dozens of gigantic meteor hammers made of ice rocketed back at the central tree. To say that the tree promptly exploded would be an understatement.

The twins flinched and shielded their heads with their arms but soon found it unnecessary— any debris that managed to reach them immediately froze and shattered against the barrier Yuki had erected in front of them. The girls lowered their arms and watched as the wreckage of the garden warped and faded from view, leaving them where they had started in the clearing in the arboretum. Karin whipped her head around and saw Kazuya still unconscious in a pile of dead leaves. She faced forward again, watching as Yuki caught a silver and black pendulum that was floating down from the sky.

Yuki smirked and haughtily tossed her hair over her shoulder. Her body glowed pale blue for a moment before the light burst from her in fragments, leaving her clothed in a high school uniform. She held the black pendulum by its spindle in her right hand and held out her left hand. A pale blue egg-shaped gem set in gold coalesced in her palm. She brought the different gems together. The twins watched as murky darkness seeped from the blue gem to the black gem as though attracted by a magnet. When the blue gem shone more brightly than before, Yuki spread her left hand and let the egg disappear. She tossed the black gem and caught it, then brandished it.

“This thing drew me too far into Tokyo,” Yuki grumbled sullenly. “I need to get back. Do you want the Grief Seed now or later, Kyubey?”

Now, please! Kyubey said cheerfully.

The white creature jumped from Yuzu's shoulder as Yuki lobbed the black gem toward it. It flipped and a portion of its back opened and neatly caught the gem. Its back had closed again by the time it landed, both Kyubey and Yuki acting like a living creature having a trap door in its back was normal.

Yuki turned her attention to the twins, eyes narrowing as she leaned one hand on her hip. “As you can see, being a magical girl isn't for the faint of heart. You have guts, though, so you can probably pull it off.” Her voice was more stern than encouraging.

“Can— can we really become magical girls?” asked Yuzu.

Of course! Kyubey said happily. As soon as you make a wish, I can make you become a magical girl right away!

Yuki looked at Kyubey from the corners of her eyes, the opposite of enthusiastic. She looked back up at the twins. “Two things, if you want to become magical girls.”

Karin raised her brows and Yuzu looked eager for advice.

“One: Choose your wish carefully. Don't wish for something stupid you could get yourself.”

“Tch. Duh,” Karin scoffed.

Yuki glared at her. “You'd be surprised how many idiots wish for things like cakes and puppies. Girls who make such childish, naïve wishes usually end up dead pretty quickly.”

Yuzu swallowed hard. Karin rolled her eyes but felt uncomfortable. “Fine. What's the other thing?”

Yuki moved so quickly they barely saw her. One blink they were facing the older girl a few yards away, the next blink they were both pinned to a large tree, Yuki holding them up by their collars with a bloodthirsty expression on her face.

“If you ever trespass on my territory, I'll come after you. If you ever poach my kills, I will kill you. Painfully.” Yuki slammed them against the tree trunk and intensified her glare. “Do you understand?”

Kyubey sat in the clearing and watched calmly, swishing its tail.

The twins squawked out their understanding. Yuki dropped them. “Good,” she sniffed. She wandered over to Kazuya's senseless form and peered at him from a couple different angles, then callously flipped him onto his back using one foot. “Looks like Little Mister Witch Lunch will be okay. Ah. Learn how to come up with cover stories for things like people being found unconscious, too. Forgot that.” Yuki straightened and watched the girls gasping on the ground against the tree where she had dropped them. “Here's a generous bonus lesson in Cover Stories 101 from me to you: The boy was acting weird and you followed him until he fought you and passed out. Say you thought you saw the little idiot eat some berries off a plant earlier but you don't know which one. His memories of the last hour or so should be screwy enough that he won't be able to say any different. It should get the adults focused on freaking out about the plants and him instead of you. Got it?”

The twins hurriedly nodded.

Voices calling the sixth-graders' names started lilting through the trees.

“That's my cue to go,” said Yuki. She looked down at Kyubey. “If you want to recruit them, fine. But I'm not training up some babies. Explain things yourself and keep them away from me.” She didn't wait for a response before she turned on her heel and leapt away through the trees as Karin had seen shinigami do.

Kyubey looked up at the girls. Other people should not be able to see me, but I have to go anyway. Are there train lines through Karakura?

“J-just the one,” Karin answered haltingly. “It runs from there to here.”

Good! chirped Kyubey. I can not enter Karakura, but I can wait outside of town. Perhaps two stations out of town? Whenever you can get there, I can explain more.

“Don't you have to help Yuki?” asked Yuzu.

Do not worry, there are many of us helping magical girls. Someone else will be assigned to Yuki. So, will I see you soon?

The voices came closer. The girls looked toward them.

“Um, maybe?” Karin answered distractedly.

I will see you soon! the creature called cheerfully as it daintily hopped into the trees and disappeared the way Yuki had gone.

The twins stared after Kyubey as a teacher's voice drew near, then looked at each other in disbelief.

Chapter Text

ELF

[THE SET OF ALL TIMELINES FROM (X) TO (X+N+54)] - [14 MONTHS]

The next hours passed in a blur of desperately concocting consistent lies for the adults supervising their trip. Karin wondered if her brother and his friends had become good at lying to their teachers when Hollows interrupted their school days. If she and Yuzu became magical girls, would lying become easier with experience?

The girls didn't speak a word about what had actually happened until late that night as they lay in their beds in their shared room. Both lay on their backs, staring at the moonlight and shadows on the ceiling. Karin's hands clenched her sheets as she stared up grimly. Yuzu wrung her hands uncertainly.

Long after the house had fallen silent, Yuzu finally asked, “What are we going to do?”

Karin twisted the sheets in her fingers. “I think...” She bit her lip and shifted. “I think we need to ask questions first. I don't want to jump in head-first like Ichi-nii did with the shinigami stuff.”

“Ah.” Yuzu fidgeted. “We can— we can make a list. Of questions, I mean. And pros and cons. Then we can figure out if it's, uh— worth? Worth doing.”

“Good idea. I think question one needs to be about that thing on Kazuya's neck. And we need to ask about wishes. That just sounded weird.”

They fell silent for another few minutes.

“Karin?”

“Mm?”

“Do you think— Do you think I could really fight as a magical girl?”

“What? Sure.”

“I don't really know how to fight.”

“You can learn. I don't think you realize what you're capable of when you get angry and protective. You just need to be more... assertive? I think that's the word.”

“You really think so?”

“Psh. I know so.”

Course of action decided, the girls settled down to sleep.

The twins spent the next week tweaking a list of questions and thinking of an excuse to disappear for a day. They eventually settled on a one-day soccer clinic a professional player was holding five train stops out of Karakura. Yuzu's excuse to go with would be to cheer on Karin and go shopping at a fancy foreign food market in the same ward. The plan was to actually do what they said and stop at Kyubey's designated station on the way home. They deliberately waited until the last minute to ask so that their father wouldn't have any time to rearrange his schedule and come with them.

When they proposed their day out over dinner, Isshin scratched his chin.

“Hmm. I dunno. Can you chaperon the girls, Ichigo?”

Ichigo swallowed his rice and cleared his throat. “As much as I'd like to watch Karin terrorize a bunch of cocky twerps, I'm supposed to help put up a block wall for work tomorrow. The client is paying big money, so I can't skip out or Ms. Ikumi will murder me.” He took a swig of water, glanced at the girls, and looked back to their father. “They're thirteen. They know how to use trains— how far away is this thing?”

The girls perked up with hope. Was their brother going to bat for them?

“Five stops east of our station,” Yuzu said eagerly.

“The field is a block away from the station,” Karin added.

“And the market is two blocks in the other direction. And I'll stay with Karin at the soccer clinic and she'll come with me to the market so we won't be alone. Pleeeease?” Yuzu almost vibrated with excitement.

Ichigo shrugged. “That's not too far. It's not like they're going somewhere crowded like Harajuku or something. And they both have cell phones to call for help if they get in trouble. I think they can handle it.”

Isshin frowned. “I don't know. That's a lot of responsibility...”

“Tch.” Ichigo rolled his eyes and snarked, “They're more responsible than you are, Old Man.”

The girls glanced at each other. Best big brother ever.

“Waaah, what do you mean, Ichigooo?”

“I meant exactly what I said.”

Isshin bolted from his chair and hurled himself at the poster of his late wife. “MASAKIIIIII!” he sobbed, “OUR SON THINKS I'M A BAD FATHER!”

“That's not what I said.”

“You may as well haaaave!”

“I meant the girls don't go bawling around like idiots all the time and keep a level head, unlike some people.”

“Like who?!”

“Like you.”

“What?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!”

“Do you ever listen to yourself?”

“BWAAA! YOU'RE SO CRUEL, ICHIGOOOOO!”

Ichigo finally lost his patience. “GOD, WILL YOU SHUT UP WITH THE DRAMA AND DECIDE WHETHER THE GIRLS CAN GO DO SOMETHING WORTHWHILE TOMORROW INSTEAD OF SITTING AROUND THE CLINIC WITH YOU?”

“YOU SAY THAT LIKE BEING IN THE CLINIC WITH ME IS BORING!”

“EXACTLY!”

“MASAKIIIIIIIIIII!”

Eventually, the girls were allowed to go.

Ichigo walked them to the train station the next morning on his way to work. Before they parted ways, he set his hands on his hips and stared at the twins. After a few moments, he drily said, “I probably don't have to tell you this, but don't go off and do something stupid that will make us all look like idiots for thinking you can handle going places on your own, yeah?”

The girls nodded enthusiastically. Yuzu flung herself at her big brother and hugged his middle. “Thank you so much for helping us, Onii-chan!”

Karin stepped forward and didn't quite hug him, but grabbed his shirt and leaned into him shyly. “Thanks, Ichi-nii.”

Ichigo smiled softly and tousled their hair. “Yeah, yeah. You have fun today, okay?” When both girls backed off and cheered, he looked seriously at his more athletic sister. “Hey, Karin.”

“Uh, yeah, Ichi-nii?”

Ichigo grinned wolfishly. “I want to hear all about how much ass you kick at dinner tonight. Got it?” He held out a fist.

Karin laughed brightly, matched his grin with a fierce smirk of her own, and bumped her fist against his. “Mission accepted, Ichi-nii!”

“Take some video with your phone, yeah, Yuzu?”

Yuzu saluted and looked cutely serious. “Yes, sir!”

Ichigo fished out his wallet and took out a small wad of yen notes. “Buy yourself something nice at the market, okay? No point just looking and buying stuff to feed us.”

“Thank you, Onii-chan!” Yuzu squealed.

Ichigo parted ways with them. He lazily waved goodbye to them just before he turned a corner. The girls waved back at him and looked at each other.

Seriously. Best. Big brother. Ever.

Their day passed in a blur. The train ride was uneventful. Karin got bumped up to play with the high school age bracket at the clinic and preened about the professional player's praise and critiques all through the trip to the foreign food market, where Yuzu was equally in heaven. Their excitement lasted until they got on the return train and soberly counted stations.

They disembarked at the designated station and looked around. It wasn't particularly crowded, the lunch rush over and rush hour still two hours away. The girls wandered around the platform, unsure what they should do.

Karin! Yuzu!

The girls startled and looked around.

Up here!

Kyubey blinked down at them from its perch on a high beam, partially obscured in shadow. The creature stood and stretched like a cat. I am glad you came! It jumped from the beam and landed lightly a few yards away from the girls. A female commuter holding the hand of a five-year-old walked right past the creature without seeing it.

Follow me! I will lead you to a more private place to talk. Kyubey trotted away, leaving the girls no real choice but to follow it.

They ended up in a large park. Circling around the playground full of mothers supervising their bundled-up little ones, Kyubey led them to a duck pond behind a stand of trees. The fluffy white creature perched on a rock in front of a bench as though holding court over the flock of bored ducks. Karin and Yuzu took the hint and sat on the bench. Ducks swarmed around their feet to beg, but lost interest when the girls didn't feed them.

Kyubey didn't waste any time. Have you decided on a wish?

“Hooold up,” Karin said drily. “We haven't even decided if we're going to do this whole magical girl thing at all yet. We need more information.”

“We want to know what we would be getting into,” Yuzu said softly.

Kyubey blinked up at them owlishly. Ah. You are more cautious and mature than most girls I approach. That bodes well for your performance as magical girls. The creature settled more comfortably on the rock. I can answer your questions.

Yuzu dug in her purse and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper. She smoothed it out on her lap and cleared her throat. “We want to start with what happened at the gardens. Kazuya acted like the... Witch? Like the Witch was calling him. And he had a tattoo-thingy on his neck that he called an invitation. What was that?”

Oh! That was a Witch's Kiss. Remember how I said Witches hide in pocket dimensions and only let out some of their reiatsu as a lure? The girls nodded. Each Witch has a unique symbol. A personal seal, if you will. A Witch may lure a human closer to its labyrinth without applying this seal to the human, but the appearance of the Witch's Kiss signifies that the victim has been completely ensnared by the Witch. They can not be reasoned with. They will use force if you interfere with the orders the Witch has given them. You could say it is a form of brainwashing. Kyubey rolled its head thoughtfully. I have told you that magical girls are born of wishes, yes? In contrast, Witches are born of curses. Not only do they feed on humans, they also curse humans into harming themselves or others. They can be more insidious than Hollows. They do lure humans into their labyrinths to eat them whole, but they often eat souls after they use their seals to command humans to commit suicide.

The girls stared at Kyubey, white-faced.

“W-why?!” squeaked Yuzu.

Kyubey shrugged as best a cat-thing could. It is in their nature to propagate despair. It paused. Just as it is in a Hollow's nature to consume human souls.

Yuzu worried at her lip and Karin chewed on one cheek.

Kyubey blinked innocently. Do you have other questions?

“U-um, yeah,” Yuzu stammered. She shifted the paper around in her fingers. “You said Witches are spirits. Can shinigami fight them?”

Kyubey went still. Shinigami might be able to fight Witches, but I do not know of it ever happening, it said coldly. They cannot detect labyrinths. I suppose a strong Witch could Kiss a weak shinigami. If it has ever happened, I do not know of it.

Karin eyed Kyubey. “What's with the harsh tone?”

Kyubey's tail lashed agitatedly. Shinigami would rather hunt magical girls than ask their help to find Witches. No. They would rather hunt magical girls than deign to consider that they may be ignorant of a spiritual threat.

The girls were startled. Karin gaped. “Hunt magical girls?!”

Yes. I have taken pains to avoid contracting girls in places with high concentrations of shinigami activity. You see, magical girls are able to perform some of the same tasks as shinigami. The shinigami have never been fond of the living sharing their powers. Humans who have stumbled into possessing shinigami powers have been executed by them. Long ago, some of my contractees were discovered and executed without an opportunity to explain their primary duties. Still later, I contracted with girls of the Quincy line of Hollow-exterminators. Kyubey cocked its head. Do you know what became of the Quincy?

“Yes,” both girls whispered.

I see. Kyubey watched its own tail waving, mental voice clinical. I understand the shinigami's reasoning for the genocide. Practically speaking, at that point it was the most efficient move they could make as negotiations would have prolonged the imbalance. But the conflict with the Quincy was sparked by the shinigami's own failures and inefficiencies. Had they applied the same effort toward bettering their own organization from the time they noticed the problem, negotiation with and extermination of the Quincy would have been unnecessary as the Quincy would have had fewer Hollows to eliminate themselves. In fact, the shinigami should have considered the possibility that their own failures created the conditions in which Quincy could evolve in the first place. If there is one thing my people have learned about human souls, it is that they are very adaptable. Given a lack of protection from a spiritual predator, it makes sense that living humans would evolve the ability to defend themselves from spiritual predators. Kyubey slid its eyes back to look at the girls sideways. My people are pragmatists. We can see that the shinigami's operations are still insufficient. Had they embraced the practical strategy of using Quincy and other living humans with spiritual powers as first responders who could protect the vulnerable and summon shinigami to finish off attacking Hollows, the entire spiritual system would be more perfectly balanced than it is today. Kyubey sat up and turned its nose skyward. The shinigami are too arrogant to consider such an idea. They prefer to fool themselves into thinking they are the apex of the spiritual hierarchy. It is shamefully illogical. They are human souls, though, so I suppose it is only to be expected.

The girls looked deeply uncomfortable. Karin ground her teeth for a moment. “So, approaching the shinigami would be a bad idea?”

If you do not want to be killed, then yes, it would be a bad idea, Kyubey said mildly.

“But!” Yuzu bit her lip. Karin guessed she was reconsidering her phrasing in light of Kyubey's attitude. How would it react if it knew they were so closely tied to the shinigami? “We— we— um, heard...? Heard that the shinigami had a big war not too long ago and the old government was all assassinated. A-and humans with powers helped them win their war. Shinigami are allowed to talk to humans in Karakura who have powers now. And they even work with a Quincy boy. S-so maybe things are different now?”

Kyubey was silent for a long while. Forgive me, but I do not wish to discard centuries of necessary caution.

Before she could stop herself, Karin blurted out, “Wouldn't that make you like the shinigami dismissing a partnership with the Quincy?”

Kyubey bristled like a cat but settled down for another long period of silent thought. You are interesting. It paused again. The silence stretched. Practically speaking, you have a valid point. It stared piercingly into each of the girls' eyes in turn. When you say you have heard about a shinigami war and that shinigami speak with humans in the jūreichi, do you mean to imply that you have spoken with shinigami yourselves?

Karin crossed her arms. “Yeah. Their whole stupid war was over some crazy shinigami traitor who wanted to conquer the jūreichi for himself, so a bunch of shinigami were stationed in the city to protect it. Even now that most of them are gone, we still talk to the guy who's technically assigned to patrol Karakura. He gets bored because so many people in Karakura have Hollow-fighting powers that half the time Hollows are busted before he can get to them. Some of the ones who were stationed there for the war visit every once in awhile.”

Kyubey tilted its head to one side. Why would a shinigami want to conquer a human city?

Karin shrugged. “Some creepy plan to sacrifice all our souls to make some thingamabob that would let him go kill God and take over, or something. I dunno how that was supposed to work. A shinigami I talked to said it could have been some bullshit fairytale the traitor decided to use as a ruse. Anyway, I've heard their government's politics about humans with powers have changed drastically in the last couple years.”

Kyubey cocked its head in the other direction. How interesting. It looked down in thought, then back up at the girls. As I told you, I am a pragmatist. Should you contract with me, you would be in a unique position to carefully question shinigami for the official policies regarding living humans with spiritual powers. Should you gather enough evidence of safety, my people may consider altering our own official policy of avoidance. The burden of proof would be quite substantial, though. Realistically, that standard may not be met during your lifetimes. You must recognize, historically speaking, that sudden political change is not always complete or permanent change.

Karin made a considering face. Yuzu frowned. “Are you asking us to spy on the shinigami?”

Spy? Hmmmmm. That depends on what connotation you attribute to the act of trying to discern whether peace and cooperation are possible between magical girls and shinigami. Kyubey swished its tail and gravely said, You do understand that contracting you would be a significant risk on my part, do you not? And that you would take on a substantially larger risk to yourselves than any of my other contractees? The girls nodded. Good. Next question?

Karin narrowed her eyes. “What are you that you can grant wishes and dish out powers like a shinigami's?”

Hmmmmmmmmm . Kyubey stretched and looked skyward. Do you know about other spiritual dimensions?

“You mean Soul Society and Hueco Mundo?” asked Karin. “And that creepy one you have to run through... I forget.”

Yes. There are many dimensions. My people are spiritual beings from one of those dimensions. We are essentially uniform as a race. You may think of us as spiritual catalysts, if you will. We are part of a cycle similar to the human-Hollow-shinigami cycle. As you have seen, my people consume the Grief Seeds left behind when a Witch is defeated. You could say we convert the cursed energy into neutral energy, which we then use to grant wishes and awaken the positive powers of magical girls to fight the Witches. This cycle efficiently strikes a balance of positive and negative energy in the World of the Living.

“Oh,” said Yuzu.

“That makes sense, I guess,” said Karin. “How do you give girls magical powers, anyway?”

We technically do not “give” girls power so much as we use one kind of energy to unlock the energy already present within a girl's soul. You could say that we purchase a girl's services by granting a wish and unlocking her soul's power so that she may fulfill her side of our contract by repaying us with Grief Seeds won using that power. The degree of magnitude of a girl's wish can affect how much of a girl's power is unlocked— in essence, when a girl chooses a wish, she is declaring her value or purchasing power— how much she thinks she can “afford” to pay back with her performance. That declaration becomes an obligation once the transaction is complete. If you recall, Yuki told you that girls who make wishes for simple material items tend to fail rather quickly. This is partly due to naïveté making them unsuitable for battle, but also due to the self-limiting nature of their wishes. My most effective contractees are usually those who made the most ambitious wishes.

Now, the mechanism by which we awaken a girl's power. As I said, magical girls are able to perform some of the same tasks as shinigami. This is because they wield the power of their souls just as the shinigami do. Shinigami channel their power through their blades— their zanpakutō. The more experience and training they accumulate, the stronger their zanpakutō becomes. There is a particular power threshold at which shinigami are able to more sharply focus their power. This is called shikai. It allows the shinigami to mold their blade into a more specialized weapon. Kyubey paused and curiously tilted its head. Have you ever seen something like that in the jūreichi?

“Yeah,” said Karin. “I've seen a guy make his sword suddenly have a crescent blade on a chain attached to the hilt.”

Good! You should understand, then , Kyubey said cheerfully. Now, as living humans in material bodies, potential magical girls do not have zanpakutō into which they may channel their power. What my people do with the energy converted from the remains of Witches is catalyze a girl's soul to crystallize its power as a self-contained focus. Each girl manifests a unique weapon that approximates the zanpakutō she would have if she became a shinigami and achieved shikai. I say “approximates” because, technically speaking, the blank blades shinigami use to channel their powers are superb foci my people can closely mimic but not completely replicate. As such, magical girl weapons are capable of purifying Hollows and sending souls to Soul Society. However, they fall short of the ability to completely purify a Witch. If magical girls were natural phenomena, this would be a fatal flaw. However, it suits our purposes in the cycle nicely.

The girls thought about that for a moment.

“Would a zanpakutō be able to completely purify a Witch?” Yuzu wondered.

My people have hypothesized that it may be possible, but due to security concerns we have not performed any tests.

Both girls hummed thoughtfully.

“Um, you said wishes can affect power. Can you give us some advice about wishes?” asked Yuzu.

Ah. I can not recommend specific wishes. It would interfere with your self-valuation more directly than my people have determined reasonable. However... Kyubey looked skyward and swished its tail for a few moments. Those contractees who make wishes for the benefit of someone other than themselves tend to be the most powerful. We do not fully understand the mechanics of that, as it would seem to be a devaluation of the self as compared to a third party and thus self-limiting. However, several magical girls I have spoken with have suggested that rather than a devaluation of the self, it is an exaltation of the value of a third party and that the degree to which a human is willing to commit sacrifices for the third party's benefit is what determines the degree of power unlocked. Our observations tend to support that hypothesis, but there are enough exceptions that we can not designate it a scientific theory.

“So the best course of action is to make a wish to help someone else?” asked Karin.

That depends upon your goals, answered Kyubey. An ambitious wish for your own benefit could work as well. Making a wish for a third party's benefit carries the risk of wishing for something they would not necessarily ask for themselves. Such wishes can be like curses in nature. In that respect, self-indulgent wishes are the safer route.

“Hmmmmmm. What kind of wishes can you grant?” asked Karin.

Almost anything save for raising the dead, answered Kyubey. Once a soul has moved on in the cycle, we can not retrieve it if we have not previously encountered it to be able to trace its energy signature. Technically, we may be able to revive someone dead only moments as the traces of their reiatsu would not have completely disappeared from their bodies or their souls may actually still be present. The occurrence of situations in which we are coincidentally present when a potential magical girl witnesses someone die and immediately contracts to wish them back to life are fairly rare, though.

“That makes sense,” said Yuzu.

Next?

“You mentioned something called a Grief Seed. What's that?” asked Karin.

Oh! Do you remember the black jewel Yuki got when she defeated the Witch? Both girls nodded. That was a Grief Seed. Magical girl weapons can not completely purify Witches, but they can forcibly concentrate their power into a crystalline structure akin to the structure my people create for the power of magical girls. We call that item a Soul Gem. You saw Yuki's— the blue egg-shaped jewel.

“Oh. What was it that she did with the Soul Gem and Grief Seed?” asked Yuzu.

When a magical girl uses her magic to fight Witches and their Familiars, she exposes her power to the taint of the labyrinths. Grief Seeds are concentrated curses. Like attracts like, so magical girls use Grief Seeds to draw off the residual curses and purify the taint to their Soul Gems so they do not become cursed themselves. Then they give the Grief Seeds to me to dispose of safely and the cycle continues.

“Ah. I get it,” said Karin.

So! Any more questions?

The girls looked at each other, then the list, then each other.

“Um. Yeah. One last question. It's kind of stupid...,” said Karin.

What is it?

“Are you a boy or a girl?” asked Yuzu.

Kyubey's eyes twinkled in apparent amusement. Most humans refer to me using masculine pronouns. I do not have a preference. Gender is irrelevant to my kind. Kyubey looked hopeful. Have you made a decision?

“Uh, we need to think about it. This is too important to just rush into, you know?” said Karin.

I understand, said Kyubey. I suppose living in the jūreichi would instill caution in any human. If you ever decide to contract with me, come to the train station. I will be waiting.

The girls bid the creature goodbye and made their way back to the station.

Karin glanced back just before they turned a corner. Kyubey sat on the rock and idly swished its tail as it stared silently after them, eyes glimmering red in the shadows of early twilight.

Chapter Text

ZWÖLF

[THE SET OF ALL TIMELINES FROM (X) TO (X+N+54)] - [14 MONTHS]

The girls were somber the entire trip home. They had a lot to think about. When they got home, they put the entire mess out of their minds to cheerfully recount their adventures over a takeout dinner. By mutual agreement, they only discussed Kyubey's proposal in the dead of night when Isshin and Ichigo were sleeping.

The next week passed by in the pleasant idleness of the obligation-free time between school years for the girls. They found it difficult to adjust to Ichigo not being around all the time during the break. His work at the odd-jobs shop kept him on the move, his boss mercilessly wringing every moment of use out of him while she could avoid having to schedule around school. Ichigo complained about it at length and at high volume, but he seemed to enjoy entertaining his sisters with accounts of the bizarre situations he sometimes found himself in.

One morning in mid-March found Karin sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast with her sister and father while Ichigo slept in, worn out from a day-long job of hauling furniture around and helping a client clean carpets. Karin didn't think anything of his absence until he suddenly appeared in the doorway, desperately sling-shotted himself around the corner, and looked wildly around the kitchen. Everyone looked at him oddly as he darted toward a plate of onigiri and snatched one up.

“Ichi-nii?”

“I'm late!”

“Ehhh? Work today, too? I thought you had a day off,” pouted Yuzu.

“We didn't finish the carpet house, then Boss has some courier bullshit for me,” he nearly snarled. “It's like no one has ever heard of e-mail. I may as well be training for a marathon.” He hurried for the door.

Yuzu stood and put her hands on her hips with a scowl. “One onigiri isn't enough food for a day of hard work, Onii-chan!”

“No time! Bye!” The door slammed.

Isshin waved at the empty hallway and jokingly sang, “Bye-byyye, have a nice daaay.”

Yuzu's scowl downgraded back to a pout. “He's going to run himself ragged.”

Karin hummed her agreement into her glass of juice. Sometimes she really wanted to have words with her brother's boss.

“Don't worry, girls. Ichigo knows how to take care of himself.”

Karin hummed more skeptically. Yeah. Sure he did.

Isshin downed the last of his juice and stood. “Well, I'm late getting the clinic open, too. Have a fun morning, girls. See you at lunch.”

The girls finished their breakfasts quietly. While cleaning up, Yuzu asked Karin if she had plans for the day.

“Hnnn. Tōshirō was supposed to come play soccer with me, but he texted me about something coming up at his division so I'm on my own.”

“Aww. That's, what, the third time?”

“Yep. Can't be helped. It's what I get for making friends with a guy with a day job in another dimension. Ah, well,” she sighed. “He's getting annoyed about it, too. Whenever he actually does manage to drag his ass over here, he's going to have a lot of steam to blow off. I'll have to make sure we go against a team I want to really crush.”

Yuzu giggled. “So what are you going to do instead?”

“Ehhh, I figured I'd play video games til lunch then head out to the field and practice my shots anyway. It'll probably get old fast but I want out of the house.”

“Can I come? Rika is on a trip with her family and Mayu is home sick. I'll be your ball return.”

“Ha, sure.”

The twins occupied themselves until lunch. Isshin came in from the clinic. They waited, but Ichigo didn't show up. Karin grumbled and took out her phone to text him.

“He says he's skipping out,” she read from his reply. “They fell behind. Says he'll grab something when he has a chance.” Karin wondered how much longer he could go without activating the Wrath of Yuzu.

Yuzu scowled. “He can't just skip meals like this.” She stalked over to the table and set a platter of sandwiches down with a heavy thunk. “That's it, I'm making bento for him from now on. I'll put it on his shoes overnight if I have to.”

Not much longer, Karin thought. Rest in peace, Ichi-nii.

“Ah, Yuzu, you're so thoughtful,” cooed Isshin.

Karin met his eyes. She saw mutual relief that neither of them were the offender. At least he had some sense.

After lunch, the girls put on warm clothes and walked to the park.

“Ah, it went cold again. Guess the cherry trees won't bloom early after all,” Yuzu murmured, entertaining herself by watching her breath fog the air while Karin bent to double-knot her shoelaces.

“Hmm, it's probably for the best.” Karin stood and jumped a few times to stretch. “Let's do this!”

With Yuzu's cheerful presence, Karin was able to avoid boredom for a solid hour. Eventually, the cold air and slick grass became too bothersome for her— or so she said; she actually noticed Yuzu shivering. She called it quits and bundled her soccer ball into its carrying net.

“Hey, wanna go get a hot drink? We haven't been to the café by the middle school yet.”

An hour later found the girls aimlessly strolling around town while sipping chocolatey hot coffee. They had just come in sight of the Sunflower Sewing Shop south of the high school when they caught sight of orange hair just before it disappeared behind a building.

“Was that Ichi-nii?” Karin wondered.

Yuzu's face went fierce. “If it was, I want to give him a piece of my mind. Going without breakfast or lunch! He should know better.”

God help Ichi-nii.

Yuzu set off at a trot, Karin soon on her heels. They reached the main street just in time to see their brother turn a corner farther down the road. The girls hurried through the foot traffic and turned the corner. Once again, Ichigo darted down a side street.

Karin scowled. “Is he avoiding us?”

Yuzu let out a quiet hmph of annoyance and threw her empty cup in a trash can. “Let's get him.”

Karin copied her and tucked her soccer ball under one arm. “Yeah.”

They set out at a run this time, determined to catch up with him. By the time they came within shouting distance, the three were nearing the high school. The girls shouted for their brother, but he didn't seem to hear them. He just kept walking, stride long yet unsure as though looking for something. Not wanting to lose him again, the girls put on an extra burst of speed.

Karin grabbed his sleeve when they ran up to him. “Dammit, Ichi-nii, didn't you hear—?” She cut herself off mid-word to dodge an elbow. “What was that for?!”

Ichigo blinked at the girls. After a long moment, he said, “Ah. Sorry. You startled me.” He stared at them, then turned and started walking away again.

“What the hell?! We've been trying to catch up to you and you walk away?!”

“Onii-chan, that's rude!”

Distractedly, Ichigo said, “Ah. Sorry. I have to go somewhere.”

“You have a job?” asked Yuzu.

“Sure.”

Karin exchanged a look with her sister. That was an odd way to answer.

“You can come with, if you want.”

The girls perked up and fell into step on either side of him.

“Onii-chan, you really can't run out without eating anymore. It's not healthy.”

“Sure.”

“You won't do it anymore?”

“I won't do it anymore.”

Yuzu squinted at him suspiciously. “Promise?”

“Sure.” Ichigo looked around. They were behind the high school, by an alley that ran behind some shops. Instead of heading for the shops, Ichigo turned toward the far corner of the high school property and aimed for the utility buildings.

“Um, Ichi-nii, where are you going?” asked Karin.

“I got a call. I need to do something.”

“Over there?” she asked doubtfully.

“Yeah.”

They passed the utility buildings and came to the fenced-off portion of campus the school rented out for a cell phone tower. All three looked up at the looming column.

“A call? Is this your idea of a joke, Ichi-nii?” drawled Karin.

Yuzu shivered. “This isn't funny, Onii-chan. Let's go home. I'm cold.”

Ichigo shrugged off his jacket and dropped it over Yuzu's shoulders. “Here. I won't need it anymore.”

Yuzu drew it close to her and looked up in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I won't need it where I'm going,” he said calmly. He quickly scaled the chain link fence and hopped down on the other side.

“And where the hell do you think you're going in there?” snarked Karin. This was weird even for Ichigo.

Ichigo turned to face his sisters, looking their direction without really focusing on them. Karin heard Yuzu's breath catch. Face cheerfully relaxed, Ichigo answered, “Soul Society. Do you want to come with?”

Karin reared back, baffled. “How do you expect to get there from—?!”

“I understand if you don't want to. I know you don't need me anymore.”

“W-what?!”

“K-karin.” Yuzu squeaked as a strained, keening whisper. She leaned forward and clutched at the chain link to hold herself up, knees wobbly. “Karin. His neck. Look at his neck. Oh my God. Oh my God.”

Karin looked from her sister to her brother. Just as Ichigo turned away, she saw it: a green symbol stamped on his neck. This one looked like a stylized radio tower with little zig-zagging bolts radiating out from the top, a simple camellia overlapping its base.

The appearance of the Witch's Kiss signifies that the victim has been completely ensnared by the Witch.

No. No no no no no.

The humans in the jūreichi generally have at least slightly elevated reiatsu, so Witches would have to expose more of themselves to successfully lure someone.

Ichigo no longer had even a minor buffer of his own elevated reiatsu. It was gone. He was completely open to attack. He was probably the most vulnerable person in Karakura.

Witches do lure humans into their labyrinths to eat them whole, but they often eat souls after they use their seals to command humans to commit suicide.

A Witch had enchanted her big brother and was going to make him kill himself before it ate his soul.

Over Karin's dead body.

Karin roared and threw herself at the fence as Ichigo walked purposefully toward the tower. She got tangled in her own soccer ball net for a moment, then dropped from the top and charged at her brother. Yuzu had never climbed a fence in her life, but Karin's movement spurred her into action. Desperation and adrenaline proved to be excellent teachers. Yuzu discarded her brother's jacket and was soon scrabbling over the fence behind her sister.

Karin sprinted up to her brother and grabbed his left arm. “Ichi-nii! Ichi-nii, stop! Listen to me!”

Ichigo glanced at her, frowned, shrugged his left arm, and used his right fist to punch Karin square in the jaw. Blood instantly filled her mouth as her teeth sliced her cheek.

They can not be reasoned with. They will use force if you interfere with the orders the Witch has given them.

Karin shrieked and writhed on the ground, hands holding her face. Ichigo looked down at her for a moment as though she was vaguely interesting at best, then turned back toward the tower. Karin rolled to her hands and knees and let her mouth hang open to release a stream of blood. She looked up and saw Yuzu hopping down from the fence. They made eye contact. Karin wildly pointed at their brother— go after him, he's more important.

Yuzu ran right past Karin just as Ichigo grabbed the first rung of the tower's built-in ladder. She sped up and tackled him from behind, arms wrapping around his middle.

“Onii-chan! Stop it! Don't!” she cried.

Ichigo frowned again. “Let go.”

“No! Please, Onii-chan, please, stop!” Yuzu wailed.

Ichigo wiggled a bit trying to dislodge her, but she was clinging to him like a limpet and his elbows were at just the wrong angle to bring them to bear. He paused for a moment, then started to climb with his much lighter sister still weighing him down. Karin heard Yuzu squeal in terror when her feet left the ground. Her sister tried jerking back and forth to jostle his grip, but while his spiritual powers had fled his physical strength had not.

Karin moved. “Yuzu! Let go!”

“I'll fall!”

“You're only like five feet up. Let go!”

“But Onii-chan!”

“Let go!”

Yuzu complied. She overbalanced, twisted her leg, and fell on her rear.

“Get out of the way!”

Yuzu rolled aside and looked back at Karin.

Karin stood once more, bloodied and furious. She removed her soccer ball from its net and held it in preparation for a drop kick, then wound up and kicked the ball straight at her brother. It nailed him in the right shoulder and bounced away. He shook it off and climbed another rung.

Yuzu was scrambling to fetch the ball for another try before Karin's yell for it was all the way out of her mouth. She threw it back to Karin, who wound up again.

“Sorry, Ichi-nii,” she mumbled. Karin kicked the ball. Her aim was true. It hit Ichigo in the back of the head, causing him to immediately hit his forehead on a ladder rung. His body went limp in unconsciousness and he fell backwards. Yuzu managed to throw herself to the ground and slide behind him in time to keep his head from hitting the ground, too.

The schoolyard fell silent save for the girls' panicked gasps for air. Neither moved for a long minute. Then Yuzu sobbed and clutched Ichigo's shirt to drag him up into her lap more. She fussed with his hair and the nasty bruise on his forehead for lack of anything else to do. Karin staggered toward her siblings and looked down at them. It struck her that her brother looked much younger with his face relaxed in unconsciousness. She saw the Witch's Kiss still lurid against her brother's throat. Knees wobbling, she let herself fall and crawled toward her brother. Karin covered the Witch's Kiss with her palm, shuddered at the cloying, cursed feel to it, and flared her reiatsu as high as she could. The sound of shattering glass came from beneath her palm. Ichigo's neck was unblemished when Karin removed her hand. Only then did she allow herself to cry. Shaking, she draped herself over his chest and listened to his heart beating.

Perhaps fifteen seconds later, Karin looked up at the sharp sound of displaced air that heralded shunpo. Kisuke Urahara was perched on the corner of the chain link fence, the cane that concealed his zanpakutō poised to strike as he searched for an enemy. He relaxed just as Jinta and Ururu appeared, each also holding a weapon at the ready.

Urahara gravely regarded the cluster of siblings on the ground. “Karin. Yuzu. Are you all right?” Karin pulled herself upright once more. Both crying girls nodded. Urahara focused on Karin. “What happened? I've never felt you raise your reiatsu that high. I didn't sense a Hollow.”

Karin sniffed hard and wiped her nose and mouth to stall. If Kisuke Urahara couldn't sense a Witch nearby when there obviously was one... Kyubey was right. The shinigami couldn't protect them from Witches. Couldn't protect her brother from Witches. And she wasn't going to piss off the only being who could give her access to the means to do so herself by snitching. “H-hollow,” she finally sniffled. She winced at the tugging against the wound in her cheek.

Yuzu tilted her head and looked at her sister out of the sides of her eyes. Karin stared back unflinchingly. A lifetime of silent communication paid off: Yuzu would play along and talk it over later.

Urahara frowned. “How strange. My sensors didn't pick up anything.” He really looked at Karin. “It hit your face?”

Karin thought fast. It was probably going to be obvious a human fist had nailed her. Well, that would shape the lie, then. Better start practicing. “I-it punched me. It was shaped like a p-person.”

The three from the Urahara Shop looked alarmed.

Urahara's brow furrowed. “Scientifically speaking, I suppose an Arrancar could have the sense of self and awareness of its powers to enable it to conceal its reiatsu.”

Thank you, weird spirit science, thought Karin.

Urahara looked around. “Why are you inside this fence?” He hopped down and approached the siblings, then bent and felt for Ichigo's pulse. Satisfied, he hovered a glowing green hand over the teenager's head to evaluate injuries with his dead-people magic.

“Um.”

Cover story. She needed a cover story now. But Karin's mind went blank.

“It threw me,” squeaked Yuzu. All attention turned to her. “I couldn't— I couldn't really see it very well, of course, but it threw me in here and I hurt my leg. Then Karin and Onii-chan climbed the fence. It hit Karin's face. Onii-chan... couldn't see anything, but... but he tried to help. And it hit his head and threw him against the t-tower.” She paused to sniffle. “S-so Karin got her ball and did that glowy thing she does.”

Karin loved her sister.

Urahara swung hard eyes back on Karin. “Did you break the mask? Did the Hollow disintegrate?”

Karin hurriedly nodded an affirmative.

Urahara sighed and stood up. “Good job, Karin. You likely saved all of your lives. You've gotten stronger.” He looked at Yuzu. “And you were able to see at least some of it?”

“Um, yes?”

“Hmmm. Both of your powers seem to be maturing sooner than your brother's did. You're girls, though, so I suppose that is to be expected.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Karin asked suspiciously.

“Girls mature faster than boys,” Ururu murmured. She glanced sideways at Jinta and expressionlessly continued, “In everything.”

Jinta scowled. “Hey!”

Urahara clapped for attention. “Let's go to the shop and get everyone fixed up. I'll take Ichigo. You kids help the girls.”

Jinta hopped down. “I'll help Yuzu!”

Karin and Ururu rolled their eyes.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone was at the Urahara Shop. Urahara carefully healed Ichigo's head while Tessai healed Yuzu's leg and Karin's face. Jinta brought a still-shivering Yuzu some hot chocolate and fawned over her. Soon, everyone was sitting around while Urahara continued to heal Ichigo's apparent concussion.

At length, Urahara addressed the girls again. “I don't think your brother will react well if he remembers this. Him not being able to protect you, I mean.”

After a long silence, Karin responded, “I think you're right, but what of it? You wanna use a modifier on him?”

“Perhaps,” replied Urahara. “Or perhaps the concussion will have taken care of that for us. We'll just need an excuse for how he ended up unconscious.”

Another few moments passed. “Um,” Yuzu began hesitantly. “Um, Onii-chan worked late last night and left for work without much breakfast and didn't eat lunch because he was too busy working more. He was running around town. C-could we say he passed out because of that?”

Sometimes it frightened Karin how quickly Yuzu could conjure up plausible lies.

Urahara's eyebrows lifted. He turned back to Ichigo and performed another diagnostic kidō. “Well, well. His blood glucose really is a bit low. How convenient. He may have been muddled before the attack, even.”

Karin snorted and said with forced humor, “Only Ichi-nii could stumble into a situation in which hypoglycemia is convenient.”

Urahara sat back on his heels. “Well, I think I'll leave the healing where it is. He's in no danger now and you can say he must have hit his head when he passed out. Let's get him to your father's clinic and have him treat the hypoglycemia. It'll make it all more plausible.”

Soon Urahara and the girls were in the lobby of the Kurosaki Clinic. Isshin cheerfully popped into the room but instantly sobered. Urahara played humble Good Samaritan shopkeeper with a zany smile while his serious eyes held Isshin's. Karin knew the men would have words later.

Karin and Yuzu crawled onto the gurney with Ichigo and curled up against his sides, needing the touch to assure themselves he was safe. They must have dozed off; the room was dimly lit when Karin opened her eyes at the feel of her brother shifting around as he regained consciousness. Probably confused about how he got to the clinic. She felt their father's reiatsu as a warm presence at the foot of the bed. So he was watching them. Hovering. Karin cringed internally at the worry they caused by hesitating to grasp at the power to protect their family.

They had to correct that mistake. The guilt was enough to keep Karin's face buried in her brother's side so no one could see her tearing up.

“Old Man?” Ichigo croaked.

“How's your head?” asked Isshin. Karin heard Yuzu stir.

“Um.” Ichigo paused and gave a quiet hiss of pain. “Hurts. What happened?”

“What's the last thing you remember?”

“Uhhhhhh. I got a call. I was supposed to go somewhere...? Crap, I forget. What happened?”

Isshin sighed. “The girls found you passed out on a side street when they were on their way home from the park. A shopkeeper helped bring you home. Your blood sugar was low. I think you passed out from hypoglycemia and hit your head.”

Karin curled in on herself and squeezed her eyes shut. It was a decent lie, but there never should have been cause to invent it.

Ichigo's voice sounded like he was grimacing. “I remember feeling kinda weird.”

“Hungry?” Isshin asked with dry significance.

Karin felt her brother flinch. “Yeah,” Ichigo sighed forcefully. “How embarrassing. Shit, and the girls found me? Damn.”

Isshin wryly said, “I don't care if Yuzu tries to force-feed you, you'll sit and take it. You gave them quite a scare.”

“Sorry.”

Karin felt like she was so full of shame that she could physically vomit it out.

Dinner was deeply awkward that night. Yuzu cooked a feast and nearly buried Ichigo in food. Ichi-nii seemed to think it was a reaction to his hypoglycemia and Goat-Face seemed to think it was an after-effect of fear of the alleged Hollow, but Karin knew it was largely an expression of nerves while her sister feverishly thought about Witches and magical girls and the risks to their brother, the same as she was doing.

Everyone went to bed early for once. Karin and Yuzu lay in their room, rigid and agitated as they waited for the men of the house to fall asleep.

Finally, Yuzu blurted out, “We need to do it.”

Karin grimly stared at the ceiling. “Yeah. There's a Witch out there and Ichi-nii is a sitting duck.”

“No one can help us.”

“We have to help ourselves.”

Yuzu fidgeted with her covers. “When Onii-chan told us about becoming a shinigami, he said the chance to protect Rukia and everyone outweighed the risks. I— I think I understand what he meant now.”

“Yeah.”

There was a long pause. Finally, Yuzu asked, “What do we wish for?”

Karin chewed her lip. “Even if Kyubey could restore Ichi-nii's powers, I don't think he would. And I think he wouldn't contract us if he knew how close we are to shinigami. He hates shinigami too much. So that's out.”

“And we can't bring back Mom.”

“Mm. If only.”

Yuzu huffed. “This is hard.”

They talked about wishes until they fell asleep.

The next morning started fairly normally. Yuzu bullied Ichigo into eating a big breakfast, Isshin monologued to Masaki's poster, and everyone went their separate ways. The girls shared a determined look, got their things together, and headed to the train station without asking for permission to travel far. If there was ever a case for asking forgiveness rather than permission, this was it.

An hour later, they disembarked at Kyubey's station and sought his rafter. He was perched in the same place as before, apparently asleep. He twitched and looked down at them when they drew close.

Oh, Karin, Yuzu. He stretched languidly and stood. Have you decided? Or do you have more questions?

“Let's do it,” Karin muttered.

Once again, Kyubey led them to the hidden duck pond. He perched on his rock, but the girls were too tense to sit.

“There's a Witch in Karakura,” Karin blurted out.

Kyubey blinked up at them. My, my. I thought Witches would naturally avoid your city and enter only rarely. To have encountered one so soon... how strange.

“It targeted our brother,” Karin continued. “He had a Witch's Kiss on his neck. It tried to make him jump off a tower, but we stopped him.”

Ah! Excellent work! That you can do that without contracting— I wonder just how powerful you would be as magical girls.

“Yeah, well, I guess you're going to find out.”

Kyubey sat up taller. You have chosen your wishes? he asked eagerly. The girls nodded. Excellent!

The girls looked at each other once more. Yuzu took a deep breath and looked at Kyubey. “Our wish is to be strong enough to protect the people of Karakura from Witches and Hollows.”

Kyubey cocked its head. You both have the same wish? The girls nodded fiercely. It is essentially power for power's sake. It sounded curious.

“No, it's power for others' sake,” said Karin.

“We thought about it, and what we want is to protect people,” explained Yuzu. “That would happen no matter the wish we made, so we decided to focus on making sure we have the ability to fight well.”

“No point being magical girls if we're not strong enough to beat our enemies,” Karin finished wryly.

I see, I see, said Kyubey. It is a bit unconventional, but not without precedent. I am able to grant that wish. Are you ready?

The girls nodded. Kyubey sat tall and flung his floppy, rabbit-like ears out horizontally. The ears expanded and arched toward the girls, the tip of each hovering over their chests. Both girls gasped in pain as pinpricks of light formed over their hearts and expanded into egg-shaped orbs. It felt like something within them was being pulled, stretched to breaking, and hurriedly sewn back together. Neither could tell if she was hearing her sister's cries or if the pained sounds were in her own head. Moments stretched into eons of agony.

It ended as suddenly as it had begun. A glittering gemstone floated in front of each girl. Before Kyubey could even speak, instinct made both reach out for her own gem, a steady thrum of mine mine mine and need to hold it close echoing in their hearts.

Now, open yourself and accept it, Kyubey said with ceremonial reverence. This is your destiny.

The girls cradled their newly-forged Soul Gems and fell to the ground.

They regained consciousness about fifteen minutes later. Kyubey still sat on the rock, patiently watching his tail swish. The girls slowly levered themselves upright and stared numbly at their Gems. Yuzu's was yellow and Karin's was red.

Karin looked up and Kyubey and slowly asked, “What now?”

Kyubey's eyes crinkled in an apparent smile. You can find Witches and their Familiars by observing how your Soul Gems react— the closer you get to an enemy, the brighter they will glow. Whenever you want to transform, you have only to will it. When you defeat a Witch, use its Grief Seed to purify your Soul Gems and bring it to me to dispose of.

“How do we learn how to fight?” asked Yuzu.

Your magic will guide you, answered Kyubey.

“Oh, that's not vague at all,” snarked Karin.

Kyubey tilted its head oddly in Karin's direction. Every girl possesses different weapons and powers. It would be unreasonable to expect me to teach infinite combinations of weapons and abilities to infinite girls. Fortunately, it is in your spiritual programming, so to speak. You will understand when you engage an enemy.

Karin hummed skeptically, held her Soul Gem up to the sun, and squinted at it. “Whatever you say. So we wander around where the Witch had our brother and use these shinies like sparkly dowsing rods to find it?”

Yes. Ah! It usually is not as important to other magical girls, but you should limit yourself to transforming after you enter a labyrinth. The transformation causes a surge of power that shinigami might be able to sense outside a pocket dimension. I do not want you to get caught.

Yuzu smiled wanly. “Oh, thanks for telling us, Kyubey!”

Karin looked at Kyubey from the sides of her eyes and lazily asked, “Anything else you wanna tell us?”

No. That is all, it said cheerfully. Now, go! Embrace your destinies and triumph over the Witches!

Yuzu cheered.

“That was so hokey, oh my God,” Karin muttered.

They managed to get home in time to share a late lunch with Goat-Face and Ichi-nii, who Yuzu continued to bury in food. Ichigo griped about work but said at least he had been able to leverage the rest of the day off by telling his boss she had worked him to the point of passing out the day before. Soon Ichigo disappeared to his room to crash and their father was back in the clinic. The girls shared a significant look, told their father they were going out, and set off for the high school.

Hands shaking, Yuzu held her Soul Gem in her palm and watched it glow more brightly as they approached the cell phone tower. The girls shared a glance. Yuzu willed her Soul Gem to turn back into a ring and joined her sister in climbing the fence once more. Karin just had time to note that Urahara must have had her puddle of blood cleaned up when they heard an electrical hum grow louder in fits and starts. Visible bolts of electricity arced from tower to shed to fence.

Karin grinned with false bravado. “Oh, you know we're here, huh?” She looked around. “What're you gonna do about it?”

The top of the cell tower sparked. Electricity arced down the ladder, rung to rung to rung, and blasted the ground like a lightning bolt. A flat, translucent sigil like the one that had been on Ichigo's neck appeared floating vertically above the ground. Reality warped around its edges.

Karin turned to her sister. “Well, Yuzu, I think we're supposed to go in.”

Yuzu wrung her hands. “I'm scared.”

Karin looked down and bit her lip. “Me, too,” she said quietly. She looked up, determined. “But this thing almost killed Ichi-nii. And we can't let it get away. We made our decision. Now we have to follow through. There's no going back.” She held out her hand.

Yuzu took Karin's hand and squeezed. “Right. Right.” She swallowed hard and mimicked Karin's determined face. “Let's do this. Like Onii-chan fought for us.”

The girls marched through the portal holding hands.

The world that greeted them was chaotic. It was a jumbled cityscape whose buildings looked like cardboard cutouts. The sky was dark with acid green stars. High-tension power lines crisscrossed the sky. A multitude of telephone poles were strewn throughout at a far greater density than logically necessary. The telephone poles all listed at uneven angles. Bolts of electricity arced over the telephone wires at random intervals.

After taking a few moments to take it all in, Karin let go of Yuzu's hand and said, “Well, we'd better transform before something shows up.”

“R-right,” Yuzu agreed.

For a moment, both looked unsure. Then they were struck by an impulse that made each raise her Soul Gem and channel her power through it. Magic wrapped around them and altered their clothes. Their limbs felt stronger. The power crested and brought on a brief bout of euphoria— for an instant, they felt invincible. The power settled down and steadied, leaving the girls changed.

Yuzu's costume was golden yellow and white. It had a circus ringmaster theme, a sleeveless yellow tailcoat over a sleeveless white blouse and a low yellow vest. The coat's tails were gathered and exaggerated into calf-length skirt-like frills behind her. Her arms were clothed with shoulder-length white gloves. A lacy white collar covered her neck and shoulders, a yellow bow tie exaggerated into a rosette shape at her throat. A large citrine shaped like an inverted, rounded triangle was nestled in its folds like a brooch. A small yellow top hat festooned with curled yellow and white ribbons was tied to her head with a white ribbon. Her ears held large citrine earrings. The outfit was completed by white leggings and low yellow heels. She held a golden whip in her right hand.

Karin's costume was red and cream. The main body was a form-fitting red sleeveless dress with a short, slightly ruffled skirt. Just beneath her bust was a red ribbon cinch. Over the skirt she wore a red kendo tare with silver rivets. Her arms bore cream detached sleeves, the billowy material with its red ribbon hems evoking a miko-like image. Red boots with silver rivets stopped just below her knees, the remainder of her legs covered by sheer dark tights. Her ponytail was tied with a puffy red bow. Ruby drop earrings, a red ribbon choker, and a ruby shaped like an inverted rounded triangle on her forehead rounded out her accessories. She held a simple katana in her right hand.

The girls looked themselves and each other over in surprise.

“Well, damn,” said Karin. “We look good. And I'm not a frilly mess.” She lifted her chin, preening. “Let's go kick some ass.”

Yuzu raised an arm uncertainly. “How am I supposed to use a whip?”

Karin shrugged, adrenaline soaring. “Dunno. I've never used a sword, either. Guess we'll figure it out.” With that, she marched down the nearest street.

Yuzu followed. “Where do we go?”

Karin stopped. She wished she was up higher so she could see better. Something sparked at the back of her mind. Before she could really think about it, she had hopped up onto one of the cardboard buildings as she had seen the shinigami do. She stopped and looked down at her feet as Yuzu shouted in surprise— Karin was probably three stories up. “Huh. How about that.” She waved and called down to Yuzu, “Hop on up! It's easy!”

Yuzu looked dubious, but was soon standing next to her sister. “Wow.”

“Yeah. Awesome, right?” Karin put her fists on her hips and looked out at the labyrinth. “Now, where do we go from here?”

The girls surveyed the nightmare world. It was much the same in every direction, save for a massive radio tower in the distance. A glass plasma globe was stuck on top of it, the arcs of energy within it sickly green.

“Well, if that doesn't scream 'villain's lair,' I don't know what does,” Karin said drily.

Karin experimentally hopped to the next cardboard rooftop. Yuzu followed her more tentatively. Soon, they were running across the rooftops easily. When they were halfway to the tower, mechanical birds began to appear on the arcing telephone lines. The farther they went, the thicker the flock became. They were soon surrounded by the clicking and whirring of tiny gears, a multitude of digitized voices saying “piroripara pirirora” in lieu of chirping. The uneasiness Karin felt about the creatures proved correct when the birds started dive-bombing them. With no time to think, the girls simply reacted. Karin's initial swings of her sword would have been more at home on a baseball diamond and Yuzu initially used the handle of her whip as a bludgeon, but they quickly began to refine their movements.

Magic-fuelled instinct thrummed through Karin. The battle was fast-paced, but seemed almost slow to her. It was as though her magic provided her with an instinctual guide, a silent voice whispering instruction and nudging her body into the correct positions with gentle hands: shift your grip like so— better if your wrist is less rigid— more force if you swing like so— stab, slash, stab, twist— breathe— slam arm back to use hilt as bludgeon—

The running battle left a trail of broken clockwork behind them as they bounced from roof to roof. Soon, they found themselves on the last rooftops before the base of the tower. The remaining clockwork birds balked and retreated as though more afraid of the tower than the magical girls. Karin and Yuzu stood and watched the birds restlessly gather nearby, on guard as they caught their breath.

Unlike the solid column of the cell phone tower on the high school property in the real world, this tower was made of the more classic metal latticework. It looked like a cheap knockoff of the Eiffel Tower, spindly bare-bones steel reaching high in the sky. Green electricity arced over the steel at random intervals. A large plasma ball full of green arcs of energy crowned the tower. Pink warning lights pulsed at major joints of the structure. Something bulky hung clustered in the hollow of the tower just beneath the plasma ball.

Karin scratched her head. “So... what exactly are we supposed to fight? The last Witch was a tree.”

Yuzu chewed her lip. “It could be the whole tower. Or maybe the glowy thing up top.”

“Hmmmmm. I wonder if we'll get zapped if we climb it.”

“W-well, all we can do is try, I guess.”

“Right. I'll go first.” Karin stretched and hopped to psych herself up. She could do this. “I guess try to grab me with that whip if I fall.”

“Umm. I don't know if I can do that.”

Karin paused and blinked her disbelief at her sister. “Sure you can. You were grabbing birds out of the air just now.”

Yuzu looked freaked out. “I don't know how I did that.”

“Well, instinct has worked for us so far.” Karin shrugged. “Here I go!”

With that, Karin leaped from the cardboard rooftop to a narrow metal beam, stumbling a few steps before regaining her balance. She shifted uncertainly, looked around, and tensed when a small arc of electricity bounced toward her along the beam. Static buzzed over her skin as it passed, but she was not electrocuted. Reassured of relative safety, she waved her sister over. Both looked up at the dim interior of the tower.

“So. Climb?” asked Yuzu.

“I guess so.”

The girls started jumping upward from beam to beam. About halfway up, they noticed a mechanical hum growing louder as they climbed. Three quarters of the way up, the interior of the tower was suddenly flooded with light, small green and pink lamps lighting in sequence from top to bottom. The girls froze as the bulky thing at the top creaked into motion. They held their weapons defensively as the thing suddenly dropped and bounced at the end of its cables like a spider on its thread.

The thing was a bundle of oversized electronics tangled together with and suspended by innumerable cords. Surge strips, CPUs, analog telephones, alarm clocks, keyboards, computer mice, speakers, cameras, cell phone chargers, fax machines, modems, routers— all were jumbled around an enormous smart phone whose screen portrayed a glowing red eye with a flat black iris on a black background. The eye rolled around and looked at each of the girls. Suddenly, the many speakers began blasting outrageously loud fax and modem sounds overlaid with human screaming as multiple extension cords shot out of the mass, their pronged plugs sharp and crackling with electricity.

The girls winced at the ear-splitting hellnoise. Yuzu dodged while Karin sliced the plugs off the cords directed at her, ignoring the sizzling shock that ran up her arms. The Witch launched more plugs and other small electronics their way. Karin dodged and sliced. Yuzu screamed and raised her arms to block her face.

“How did you do that?!” Karin yelled.

Nothing hit Yuzu because a glowing, translucent yellow shield made of three interlocked circles hovered in front of her and blocked everything that was hurled her way. She peered over her arms, stared at the shield, and shouted, “I don't know!”

“Dammit!” Karin bounced around in the tower, dodging and weaving. “We need a plan!”

Safe behind her shield, Yuzu took a moment to really look at the Witch and how it was all connected. Karin left her to it. After some thought, Yuzu yelled, “I have an idea!”

Karin loved her sister. Always saving her ass. “Hit me!”

“Cut the cables it's hanging from! Then I'll do something, then you stab it in the eye!”

“Got it!”

Karin continued to jump around the tower, randomly darting up and slashing cables with yells of effort. Yuzu nervously shifted her grip on her whip as the Witch's attacks grew more frenzied. Just before Karin sliced the last cord, Yuzu lashed out with the whip, which extended like Tōshirō's crescent chain could, and ensnared the central smart phone that seemed to be in control. Karin cut the final cord and the Witch dropped sharply. Yuzu braced herself and held on as best she could. The Witch snapped to a stop, bounced once, then most of its bulk fell away, leaving a charger cord dangling from the smart phone like a bare spine. Yuzu then used the recoil to launch the smart phone up at Karin, who dove down to stab its screen with a furious shout. The screen shattered, red light spilling from a spiderweb of cracks.

Everything seemed to hang still for a moment before a shock wave of power blew through the labyrinth. The tower and cardboard city wavered out of existence, leaving the two magical girls back in the cell phone tower enclosure at the high school. They stared dumbly at the Grief Seed that drifted down from the sky. Karin reached out and caught it. Both stared for a minute.

“We did it,” Karin whispered in disbelief.

“We did it,” Yuzu marveled.

“We did it!” they both shouted, laughing and hugging.

Karin gripped Yuzu's hands, elated. “We can do this. We can protect Ichi-nii!”

Yuzu grinned. “We really can keep him safe just like he kept us safe!”

Karin laughed proudly. “Being magical girls is gonna be awesome.”

Chapter Text

DREIZEHN

TIMELINE X+N

The twins sat quietly for several minutes, allowing Homura to digest all they had told her. Homura frowned down at the tabletop, mind whirling.

The Incubator had done a masterful job of luring the girls in. It had danced around the atrocious drawbacks to the contract and made the twins feel empowered while waxing philosophical about the human race in ways designed to confuse tweens. It was oddly forthcoming on the subject of wishes, though. What did it hope to accomplish by divulging so much information? Whatever it was, Homura was furious. At this point she was so cynical about the Incubator that she wouldn't put it past the monster to have another magical girl herd a Witch toward Karakura just to push the Kurosaki girls into a corner. Homura had seen how dogged it was in trying to convince Madoka to contract once it noticed her great potential. It wouldn't surprise her in the least to find out that it had gone to great lengths to get the twins to sign away their souls.

The twins had contracted too long ago for Homura to be able to save them in the next timeline. Even though the prospect of allying with them was promising, it made her feel powerless. How many girls had sold their souls to protect the people they loved over the course of millennia? It disgusted her that the Incubator preyed upon that selflessness. Her powerlessness to stop the cycle was frustrating beyond words.

Homura didn't know what to think about the Incubator's stated origins. The Incubator had told her in multiple timelines that its race was alien. She now questioned her own interpretation. It could have been one of its many misleading statements— a spiritual race from another dimension would be alien to most magical girls, she supposed. Would have been alien to Homura herself even a few days ago. Had she fallen into a deliberate trap of misinterpreting "alien" as "extraterrestrial"? And while it still spoke of energy to the Kurosaki girls, it had apparently not mentioned countering entropy or preventing the heat death of the universe among its motives. Were the two angles mutually exclusive or did they overlap in ways she couldn't understand?

Also, this was the first she heard of an outside force hunting magical girls— if that assertion could be believed at all. One thing was certain: The Incubator's sheer distaste and wariness of shinigami to the point of villainizing them made her very, very interested in them. Call it a forbidden fruit reflex, but she found her curiosity piqued. No matter what it said to turn their attention aside, the Incubator had asked the sisters to spy on the shinigami while taking pains to ensure they wouldn't turn around and tell the shinigami information about its system. Whether the shinigami actually posed a threat to magical girls was something Homura would have to investigate. A deep, quiet part of her mind wondered if shinigami were actually a threat to the Incubators themselves. She wasn't sure what to do with that thought.

Homura also found the Kurosaki girls' wish interesting. “To be strong enough to protect the people of Karakura from Witches and Hollows.” She wanted to know how broadly or narrowly their magic had interpreted it. Were they literally unable to be overpowered by a Witch? Or did they just get heightened defensive abilities? How was “strength” defined? Physical? Magical? Psychological? Did any advantage granted by the wish only apply in Karakura or while protecting someone from Karakura?

So much new information. So many new questions.

“Um, Homura?” Yuzu fidgeted. “Do you have any questions?”

Homura looked up, blinked owlishly, and tilted her head slightly. She ran through the history they had given her. It was probably nitpicking, but... “Yes. Your brother. You said he was a powerful shinigami. How did the Witch ensnare him?”

The sisters winced. Karin cleared her throat. “Well, you see... You know the big war from a couple years ago we mentioned? With the shinigami trying to keep some nutjob from sacrificing all of us?” When Homura nodded, Karin continued, “Our brother fought in that war.”

Homura frowned. “How old was your brother, then?”

“Only sixteen,” Yuzu said quietly. “He shouldn't have had to fight, but things were... complicated.”

“See, the traitor— something-or-other Aizen— had this trick he could do with his zanpakutō where, if you saw his shikai once, he could make you see detailed illusions whenever he wanted,” explained Karin. “It made him tough to beat— he'd figured out how to show the trick to a lot of the strong leaders of the shinigami over the course of decades before they knew he was rotten to the core. So they'd try to attack him and he'd not really be there, or they'd attack an ally, or they'd get attacked and block wrong because they saw his sword in a different place than it was. It was a mess.”

“But Onii-chan was young and had only visited Soul Society once,” continued Yuzu. “He never saw Aizen's shikai, and he was as strong as the captains of the shinigami. Onii-chan was the only one who could really trust what he was seeing when he fought. So he had to fight. He wouldn't let Karakura be destroyed. He protected us.”

Karin scowled down at her empty soda can. “But Aizen had this weird thing that made him keep getting stronger. Ichi-nii knew that if he wanted to beat Aizen, he'd have to use all his power. So he did. Literally. He sucked at explaining it, but he and his zanpakutō did some weird finishing move that sacrificed all his reiatsu. Other things happened, but basically Ichi-nii gave up all his power to protect us.” Her lips drew into an angry line. “So he was defenseless.”

Ah. That clarified things. Reciprocal sacrifice. Homura wondered if the twins knew they had set themselves up for a similar end. But... “Was? Not is?”

Yuzu smiled. “It took a long time, but Mr. Urahara— um, that really smart shinigami we mentioned who lives in Karakura instead of Soul Society— he invented something to help give Onii-chan his powers back.”

“Couldn't be a pill or something. Nooo, had to be a sword. That's Urahara for you,” Karin added darkly.

“All the captains and lieutenants of the shinigami helped by putting some of their power into the sword and gave the power to Onii-chan to... kinda wake up his reiatsu. Like, if his reiatsu was cold coals, they sparked it back into a bonfire.”

Karin snorted. “By stabbing him. From behind. With no advance warning. That's Urahara for you.”

Homura eyed the girls. “This Urahara sounds... ominous.”

The twins looked at each other and laughed shortly. Karin smirked. “Oh, I'm sure he can be terrifying when he wants to be. I haven't seen it myself, but Tōshirō says Urahara used to be a captain. That's enough to be wary around him. Ichi-nii says he is a cheerfully sadistic trainer. He puts up a goofy front kind of like our dad does. I think a lot of it is real, though. But when he starts waving his fan and going all 'oh, whatever do you mean, I am merely an innocent shopkeeper,' he's totally trolling. And if he can find a way to startle you out of your skin while helping you, he'll do it for kicks. But he's not vicious about it and actually knows when to pitch the goofy act.”

“Stabbing someone from behind is not being vicious about it?” Homura deadpanned.

“Since it was immediately obvious what was going on, nope, not for Urahara,” said Karin. “I don't think he had planned for Ichi-nii to be in a bad situation when they gave him back his powers, so yeah, it probably wasn't in the best of taste considering the circumstances. But shinigami transfer powers to humans by stabbing them through the heart anyway so maybe he couldn't avoid being all stabby.”

Yuzu smiled wanly. “Onii-chan calls Mr. Urahara a mad scientist with a conscience. He says Urahara has done some, um...”

“Morally questionable.”

“Yeah, morally questionable things, but things Onii-chan didn't mind because he understood why he did them and would have cooperated if things were explained to him first. And he said Mr. Urahara apologized after.”

“What kind of things?” asked Homura.

The twins looked at each other.

“That's... a long story,” Karin hedged.

“So give me the short version,” Homura said bluntly.

Karin blinked at her. “Okay. Uh.” She rolled her eyes skyward in thought. “So, Ichi-nii's first visit to Soul Society was to rescue a shinigami who was in trouble for helping him by sharing her powers. Urahara knew that Aizen was bad before almost anyone else, but he didn't tell Ichi-nii and his friends about him. Or his special ability— which was really stupid, in my opinion. Or that Aizen had made the government get pissed off at his shinigami friend because Urahara had secretly tried to hide something in her soul— the special thingy I mentioned earlier that made Aizen keep getting more powerful. Aizen wanted Ichi-nii's friend Rukia because he wanted that thingy.”

Homura stared. “He hid something in her soul. Secretly.”

Karin winced. “Yeeeah. That was skeevy. But Ichi-nii and Rukia said they understood when Aizen got his hands on the thing and they saw the terrible things he could do with it. Ichi-nii said it was like Urahara and Aizen were playing chess to prevent or cause an apocalypse. Aizen wanted the thingy to destroy the world and Urahara wanted to destroy the thingy to save the world.”

Yuzu pensively played with her sleeve cuff. “I think part of Mr. Urahara's problem is that he thinks so far ahead of everyone else that he loses track of how far behind he's left them.”

“Some of the leaving people behind is deliberate, though. Or at least a choice he makes in certain circumstances.” Karin made a wry face between a grin and a grimace. “Ha, I can feel for him with Ichi-nii, though. Trying to make a sixteen-year-old boy learn Soul Society politics when he had a single-minded goal of plowing his way through Seireitei, grabbing Rukia, and strolling out would have been like trying to convince a farmer to study astrophysics.”

Homura bit her cheek for a moment. “Still.”

Karin sighed and shrugged. “Still.”

A few moments passed in awkward silence as they set aside the topic of the shinigami scientist.

Homura mulled over the things they had told her and backtracked. “So, you contracted to protect your brother. When did he get his powers back?”

The girls cringed. “A couple months after we contracted,” said Karin.

Homura sat back and looked at them in surprise. “So soon?”

“Yeah. He wasn't vulnerable for long. But we managed to protect him from things together for several weeks.”

“There was a time a few weeks after we contracted when a Hollow attacked me and my brother.” Yuzu looked down in shame. “I was still new and too scared to do anything without Karin there.” She looked up fervently. “But I got better after that!” She looked down again. “But by the time I was... confident enough to fight by myself, Onii-chan had his powers back.”

Karin slapped her sister's back. “It worked out. And we bagged another Witch in that time, so it was worth it. We kept him safe when he couldn't keep himself safe. That's all that matters.”

Yuzu smiled weakly at her sister, then turned to Homura. “Any more questions?”

“Hm. None that I can think of at the moment.”

“We should head back, then. I need to start dinner.”

“Oh!” Karin interrupted. “Homura, just so you know: Hollows are our excuses for if someone senses us do something with our power. You really obviously feel powerful enough to fight Hollows, so if someone questions you while you're here, talk as though Witches are Hollows.”

“That could be a good cover story for Mitakihara,” Yuzu suggested. “If anyone here suspects something supernatural where you come from, let them think it's Hollows. Then if they look into it, they won't be able to find the Witches and will think the Hollow moved on or was defeated.”

“Hey, great idea, Yuz!” cheered Karin.

The girls set out for the Kurosaki home. Homura let the twins chatter around her as she thought.

What would happen if shinigami investigated Mitakihara?

She wondered what the eccentric shinigami scientist would make of it all if he knew what to look for. From the story she had been told, he seemed to operate independently of the shinigami government. He could be a good place to start figuring out what modern shinigami thought of magical girls. She was wary of tipping her hand so far from her turnback point, though. Maybe she could give him a nudge a day or two before Walpurgisnacht? It was something to consider, anyway.

It had been awhile since she had so many new ideas. It was both heady and frightening.

Soon, Homura quietly helped Karin sweep and tidy the clinic as Isshin made sure the day's charts and paperwork were in order while Yuzu cooked dinner. Observing father and daughter bickering and teasing and laughing was... pleasant. Less lonely. She liked it. They were still confusing, but she liked them.

Dinner was spirited among the Kurosaki family. While Homura still chose not to speak much, she did actively pay attention to the conversation this time. The others noticed and carefully tossed an occasional question her way. Nothing personal; just little offers of involvement like wasn't that stupid? and do you think this sauce would taste good with chicken? Homura always hesitated a moment before answering and her replies were always brief, but it was improvement the Kurosaki family was generally happy with.

After they ate, Isshin cleared his throat to stop Homura and Karin from gathering the dishes. “Sit back down, girls. I want to talk.”

Homura shared a wary glance with Karin and complied.

Isshin settled his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers for a moment as he thought how to begin. He cleared his throat again and began to speak.

“I've been keeping an eye on the news out of Mitakihara on and off through the day. It doesn't look good. Especially the stuff that came out just before you came back.”

Homura stiffened and made her face shut down into blankness. She didn't like the way the man frowned at that. It wasn't suspicion, but it was close.

“The police are finding more odd things and disappearances, even in nearby towns. And the media is camped out by your school.” Isshin folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “What I want to say is that I'm concerned for your safety should you go back to your home. If you want to stay here while the police figure things out, you are welcome in our house. At the very least through the weekend. If things don't look safer by Sunday afternoon, you can stay longer. A few days, a week, it doesn't matter. What matters is your safety.”

Homura was taken off guard. She had expected an interrogation, not an invitation.

“Now, I would want to speak with your uncle and you will need to contact your school again. Whether you arrange for leave or home study, you need to let the school know where you are. How does that sound?”

Homura opened and closed her mouth a few times before she gathered herself and bowed her head politely. “I would appreciate that very much, Dr. Kurosaki. Thank you.”

Isshin grinned slightly and sat back. “Just so you know, the girls' brother will be visiting this weekend. He just started at university a few weeks ago and comes home on weekends. He'll get here tomorrow afternoon and leave Sunday evening. Will that be a problem?”

Homura shook her head. “No, sir.”

“Bah, you don't need to sir me,” Isshin laughed and waved her off.

Karin was grinning and Yuzu positively beamed. “Thank you so much, Daddy!”

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly. How long had it been since Homura took the time to sit down and just snack and watch anime? The first time Karin tucked a stick of Pocky in the corner of her mouth and held the box out to offer her some, Homura was vividly reminded of Kyōko. When Yuzu sat with her and coaxed her into a halting conversation while Karin enthusiastically battled video game monsters, she thought of Kyōko once again. She suddenly wished she could introduce Karin and Kyōko— sarcastic, blunt, aggressive, tenderhearted beneath the surface, gamers; they'd probably get on like a house on fire. Whether that would be entertaining or terrifying was anyone's guess.

Hypothetical meetings between the two danced at the edge of her mind as she readied herself for bed. Still, from the time Isshin had made his offer of refuge to the moment her eyes slipped shut, her mind buzzed with a steady thrum of possibilities. Isshin had given her the perfect excuse to stay in Karakura and investigate the potential opportunities presented to her. She would be a fool not to seize it with both hands.

Chapter Text

VIERZEHN

TIMELINE X+N

“Interesting.”

Kisuke Urahara stared at his computer monitor in fascination, idly snacking on candy in its blue glow. Something odd was definitely happening in and around Mitakihara. He could tell that much from the feverish press coverage. Kisuke pored over the existing articles during lunch, memorizing the known facts, the speculation, and taking notes on the strangest angles to look at. At first blush, it looked like something sinister but entirely human was going on up north. However, Kisuke refrained from drawing any conclusions as yet. He set about researching Mitakihara area history and demographics while he waited for the local authorities and press to gather more information. His own network of spiritual sensors didn't extend anywhere near Mitakihara, so he attempted to acquire relevant data via remote access to the Twelfth Division's databases. Evidently they had upgraded since his last foray because his presence was flagged and he ended up engaged in a thoroughly entertaining hacking-battle-slash-chat with Mayuri Kurotsuchi himself for the entire afternoon.

Really, he had no clue human emoticons would infuriate the man so much. Bless the internet.

At some point— dinner time, coincidentally— Kisuke abruptly decided to quit playing with Kurotsuchi and turned to the local news over the past several months looking for anything strange. Spotting Hollow activity among mundane news could be difficult, but you could find some if you knew what to look for. He was currently trawling conspiracy theory and supernatural web sites for mentions of Mitakihara and Kazamino; such sites were often exaggerated and way off base, but sometimes steered one toward information unavailable or dismissed by mainstream media.

 

username: BakaBakenekoKyo

subject: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Hey you guys you know that thing with all the ppl waking up in a tv station with ammonnia and bleach like they were gonna commit suicide together but they don't remember getting there? Something like that happenned to me up in Asunaro like 5 weeks ago. I posted about it back then. [link] I was wanderring around this abandonned inn in the old part of town with my camera to see if I could catch any orbs or something. A lot of ppl here stay away from the place cuz it feels weird. The place felt really creppy, like someone was watching me. I started to feel dizzy by the stairs. I must have blackked out because next thing I knew I was on the 2^nd floor in a dusty room. I was on the floor with my back to a window and a girl was taking a curtain cord off from around my neck and saying stuff like everything would be alright and I was safe. I kinda freakked out all over her. I was weak so the girl helpped me get out. I never saw her again. The next day I noticed the memory card was gone from my camera. The girl didn't look like the pictures of that Madoka girl who saved the tv station ppl but she did kinda the same thing. It just seems weird.

 

username: deathlyhallowed

subject: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

i live further south in shinchi. earlier this month i was filming with nightvision camera in an old wearhouse on old pier that isnt used anymore. theres lots of stories about it being haunted by sailors ghosts but i never found anything until last time. it felt super creepycrawly and i felt like someone was gonna grab me you know? i remember feeling dizzy and my vision going weird. next thing I know some girl is dragging me onto the beach. when i was done throing up water she said she saw me jump off the peer. i started bawling cos id never do that— i saw my little cousin drown once and even though he lived it was terrible i never wanna die that way— and i was coughing lots still so she said shed help me get to the road and get hewlp and she said she;d say she saw me FALL off if anyone asked her. so she got me to the street and someone called for an ambulence and she disappeared before it came. i still had my camera strapped to my wrist but of course it was wrecked by seawater. so i dunno what happened but all this stuff made me think of it again. is there ghosts that make people try to kill theirselves?

 

username: ghostlyscholar101

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Perhaps some kind of vengeful ghost, or even a demonic entity? I wonder if possession is involved. I'd suggest going back to these locations with a larger group to investigate, but if the possessing spirit is homicidal, that may not be wise.

 

username: BakaBakenekoKyo

subject: re: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

OMG You think maybe I was possessed?! Wow. I don't know if that's cool or terrifying. How manny ppl can say they were possessed? Trying to make me hang myself was evil tho.

 

username: deathlyhallowed

subject: re: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

like hell am i going back to that pier. someone else can go if they want. i can give a map. but srsly, ill stick with ghosts that DONT make me try to die a horrible death thanks

 

username: yuureiseeker

subject: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

I live in Kazamino City. In March I was in a burned out restaurant that had exploded a year ago but no one ever bought. The owner died in the fire. People say it's haunted because they found out the owner was trying to burn the place down for insurance money to pay a loan or something and he screwed up and killed himself too so his angry spirit haunts the place. I was wandering around trying to catch some EVP when I felt dizzy and faint. My sight went black. When I came to, I was in the empty lot behind the car repair shop next door, sitting on the ground covered in motor oil. A girl had her hands around mine and was shouting at me and shaking me to wake up. When I did she let go and I found out I had my cig lighter out and had been trying to strike it. So I had doused myself in oil and was in the process of lighting myself on fire.

 

username: BakaBakenekoKyo

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

OH MY GODD

 

username: deathlyhallowed

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

HOLY SHIT MAN WTF

 

username: yuureiseeker

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

I still don't know where that girl came from. It was dark but I could tell she was wearing a frilly dress. It seemed out of place. I think I passed out again. When I woke up again, the girl was hosing me off. I don't really remember how I got home or where she went.

 

username: ghostlyscholar101

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Did you pick up any EVP?

 

username: yuureiseeker

subject: re: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Negative. Just the sounds of me scuffling around and muttering to myself between the sounds of doors and drawers. I guess when I was nabbing oil from the mechanic shop. I don't remember that. And the girl yelling at me to wake up.

 

username: paranormalcy

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

I have encountered some messed up stuff in my time but that is just f***ed up man. We got some creepypasta shenanigans all up in here.

 

username: gravewatcher44

subject: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Whys it always a girl helps the suicidals?

 

username: BakaBakenekoKyo

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

“suicidals” is rude

 

username: yuureiseeker

subject: re: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

valid question tho

 

username: Kitsune-chan9

subject: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Oh hey did you read the news that just came out about that hostess lady who woke up with the three missing girl's and she thought they saved her from suicidding? That she kinda remmembered being on top of the building but doesnt know how she got down by the girl's and her shoe's were gone? That was freakkyyyy.

 

username: paranormalcy

subject: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Yeah, I just read about it. There's a new update— the cops went there to investigate and found the shoes on the edge of the roof. The building had junk on the floors but the woman's feet weren't injured from walking down barefoot. Sooo...???

 

username: deathlyhallowed

subject: re: re: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat

Kisuke raised an eyebrow, tabbed back to the main news site, and refreshed it.

Oh. There had been quite a few updates since he last looked. Before he logged out— and he did have accounts on many paranormal sites just because— he replied to the thread.

username: SoulCandy

subject: re: Mitakihara Mass Hallucionation

Does anyone know of any other incidents like this? Can you upload any recordings you made? It sounds really interesting.

That done, he opened a new packet of gummy candies and read the news.

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?

AUTHORITIES RELEASE SKETCH OF MYSTERY GIRL IN MIKI CASE

April 22, 20XX 03:15 PM

 

Mitakihara Municipal Police released surveillance footage and an artist's rendering of the mystery girl known to have been staying in the room where Miki Sayaka (14) was found dead yesterday evening. Hotel Nikko Mitakihara employees worked with forensic sketch artists through the night to produce the image seen at right.

 

Estimated age: 14-16 years

Build: slender/athletic

Estimated height: 155-160cm

Hair color: dark red

Eye color: dark red

Clothing: Almost always seen wearing cutoff denim shorts, a sea green zippered jacket with white hood and cuffs, a short black undershirt, and brown knee-high boots. Her waist-length hair has only been seen tied up into a ponytail or half-ponytail with a black ribbon.

 

Hotel employees report that the girl kept to herself and went out for extended periods at all hours. They say she avoided staff and could be brash or rude if drawn into conversation, but she tipped housekeeping and room service well. Housekeeping reports that the girl frequently left a mess of empty food bags and wrappers in her room for cleanup each morning. The housekeeper assigned to her floor for the morning shift noted that usually, the girl would be gone and leave the room to be cleaned up by nine. Unusually, the girl left the “do not disturb” placard on the door on the morning she was last seen leaving the hotel. Sayaka Miki's body would be discovered roughly nine hours later when the room was opened by security as a precaution due to a minor fire which spread smoke throughout that floor. (See: Laptop Battery Fire Leads Hotel Security to Dead Body [link])

 

Police Spokeswoman Mura once again emphasizes that the mystery girl is considered a person of interest and a potential victim. Though unidentified, the girl is designated as missing, the same as Mami Tomoe and Madoka Kaname. Anyone who knows who she is or has seen her in the past two weeks and especially the past two days are asked to call the tip line at XXX-XXXX.

A TANGLED WEB!

MYSTERY EXPANDS AS ADDITIONAL DISAPPEARANCES DISCOVERED

GIRLS ALSO MISSING/DEAD IN NEARBY JURISDICTIONS

ARE STRANGE SUICIDES RELATED?

April 22, 20XX 05:00 PM

 

The collaborative investigation between Mitakihara Municipal Police and the Kazamino City Police Department has rapidly turned up disturbing developments on an unexpected scale.

 

The initial focus of the joint investigation was to obtain surveillance footage of the purchase of the prepaid credit card used to reserve the Hotel Nikko Mitakihara room in which the body of Sayaka Miki (14) was found yesterday evening. The card was purchased with cash at a convenience store in western Kazamino City. Video quality is poor, but appears to show the unidentified red-haired girl from Hotel Nikko Mitakihara's lobby security cameras making the purchase. The card was not found among evidence collected at the hotel room. A transaction history for the card shows purchases of food and toiletries before and during the girl's stay at the hotel, both in Kazamino City and Mitakihara. Police are investigating the sites of each purchase in hope of learning more about this girl.

 

Another aspect of the joint investigation was the fingerprints tied to the hotel room and two “break-and-bust” ATM robberies in eastern Mitakihara. A long string of identical robberies has been found to have taken place throughout Kazamino City over the last fifteen months. The Kazamino City fingerprints match the Mitakihara fingerprints. In all cases, something rapidly destroyed the embedded security camera from above before the machine was pried open with something large and sharp.

 

A distressing series of similar disappearances and deaths of girls between the ages of eleven and sixteen has been discovered in Kazamino City. While it is unknown whether all cases are related, there are striking similarities among them.

 

The body of Bethany Michaels (14), daughter of a United States Marine who relocated to Kazamino City with his family to be an English teacher after discharge from his duties in Okinawa, was discovered collapsed in front of the altar of a Catholic church on the morning of April 14^th, hands folded in prayer. Her body had obviously been beaten pre-mortem, but coroners determined that her wounds should not have been fatal. Her cause of death remains undetermined. As with the missing Kaname and dead Miki, her parents reported that Michaels had displayed increasing signs of distress over the week before her death. In another similarity, her Bible study classmate Marina Sakamoto (14) went missing the same night.

 

On the morning of April 3^rd, the remains of Saki Yamaha (16) were found on a carousel at a local theme park. As in the Miki case, no security footage shows how she gained entry to the park. Cameras within the park are largely focused on vending stalls. Similar to the Momoe case the next day, the entire video system suddenly failed for several hours overnight. Yamaha's body was discovered by a park cleanup crew shortly after dawn. Autopsy found no injuries and no apparent cause of death, as in the Miki case. She was thought to have been depressed after an altercation with her boyfriend and had been missing since lunchtime on April 2^nd. The boyfriend told authorities that the carousel was a sentimental place for the two of them. This may explain her ultimate location, but her cause of death remains a mystery.

 

Noriko Chiasa (16) was last seen on March 29^th. She is the class representative for her first year high school class. Meticulous and responsible, Chiasa was known to be dedicated to her office to the point of obsession. Investigation found that many of the “late club meetings” she told her parents about seemed to not exist, though. It is unknown what she did instead during that time. Chiasa's parents reported that their daughter seemed to become gradually more agitated and tired. Some prodding of her classmates revealed irritation with Chiasa's micromanaging and an admission of a confrontation in a classroom the afternoon she went missing. No one has seen her since she stormed out of the school, upset. Police initially designated her case as a runaway, but they are reconsidering it in light of similar circumstances in the Miki case.

 

There are also several cases which don't fit the pattern of the missing and dead girls, but which have some similarities to the Mitakihara television station mass-hallucination near-suicide event.

 

On April 17^th, security footage from a subway station shows a businessman wander in around midnight and walk off the platform onto the tracks. The only two witnesses were a pair of intoxicated men, but video corroborates their story that the man seemed to be distracted by something unseen. The surveillance cameras then malfunctioned. The witnesses say the businessman appeared to not even notice the train approaching him. He was killed on impact. Investigation found no history of mental illness, no drugs or alcohol in his system, and no explanation for his apparent mental state. Coworkers said he had left their late meeting happily satisfied with their work with a cheerful declaration that he'd buy donuts for the team in the morning. Not typical suicidal behavior.

 

On April 6^th, a young couple with no history of mental illness was walking toward the homeless shelter they usually volunteered at. Friends saw them approaching from several blocks away and noted that both looked at an alley to their left as they seemed to hear something, then detoured into it. When they didn't show up before the shelter opened for the evening, the friends went to investigate. The couple was found sitting against a wall under a broken window. Each had apparently slit their own wrists with broken glass and were in a dreamlike state. Their friends acted quickly and saved them. When the couple recovered in the hospital, neither remembered anything after leaving their house.

 

On March 27^th, a group of three high school girls was walking home when they detoured from their usual route. An ice cream vendor they walked past stated that they all seemed to be in a trance, none of them acknowledging his greetings as they usually did and wandering through the park with a swaying gait. Worried, he kept an eye on them. When he saw them trying to scale a fence between the park and a steep drop into a drainage canal, he sprinted over, dragged them down, and called emergency services when they kept trying to climb over. Police found the girls in a dreamlike state which slowly lightened into confusion. Upon examination in a hospital, none of the girls were found to have any mind-altering substances in their systems. All three didn't remember anything after they turned away from their usual route.

 

All of this is disturbing just among Mitakihara and Kazamino City, but it gets worse. Detective Misako Ishijima of Asunaro, the jurisdiction just north of Mitakihara, contacted Mitakihara Municipal Police to disclose a series of missing and dead girls in Asunaro. Detective Ishijima has been collecting such cases as a side project while on the force. Her files go back years and encompass over fifty cases— twenty-seven in the past year alone— prompting a casefile scramble in Mitakihara and Kazamino City. Detective Ishijima cites a heightened frequency of such mysteries in the last four months. Here are but a handful of the disappearances:

 

On March 24^th, the parents of Sumire Akane (14) discovered that their daughter was missing when she didn't appear for breakfast. Her window was found open, her bed unslept in. Police deemed her a runaway. Akane's parents adamantly denied this conclusion, saying their daughter had been happy and successful: A member of the South Middle School soccer club, Akane had recently been promoted to a starting position and was by all accounts thrilled and eager to compete. Her parents and friends insisted she wouldn't walk away from her dream come true— she had worked too hard for it.

 

Kaede Hinata (15) disappeared on March 10^th. That afternoon, she urgently excused herself from choir practice at North Middle School to “run an important errand” she had forgotten. While she was never seen after her departure, police did find her school bag on a park bench about a kilometer from the school. Her wallet and phone were inside it. Authorities suspected abduction, but could find no evidence.

 

On February 2^nd, Kanna Hijiri (15) disappeared from her bedroom overnight. A popular student at the exclusive Kyōzō Academy, Hijiri was known to be a cheerful girl and indulgent older sister to her younger twin sisters. However, friends and family noted that Hijiri rapidly became distant and erratic during the week before her disappearance. Police later performed forensic data analysis on the girl's computer. They found that the night before she was discovered to be missing, Hijiri searched for and accessed multiple archived articles about an incident that happened when she was four years old. Back then, her family lived in the United States due to her mother's extended business assignment in Los Angeles, California. One day she was playing at a neighbor's house with two of that household's children. The children found the homeowner's unsecured handgun and played cowboys. Tragically, little Kanna didn't understand she wasn't holding a toy and pulled the trigger. Between the original shot and the ricochet off an iron vase, all three children were hit. Hijiri survived, but the neighbor children, ages two and three, did not. Hijiri's parents moved back to Japan and tried to move on, but their daughter remained depressed through much of her childhood. However, she brightened upon moving to Asunaro and entering middle school. Her parents said it seemed as though she had forgotten the incident. They consulted a psychiatrist who hypothesized that Hijiri may have suppressed the memories or simply been able to distract herself better in the new school environment where no one knew her history. In the wake of her disappearance, authorities worried that she may have had a psychological breakdown. In the context of other disappearances, police fear someone may have taken her while she was in a fragile mental state.

 

Best friends Yūri Asuka (14) and Airi Anri (14) disappeared from the same location on the evening of January 28^th. Asuka was a competitor in the annual Asunaro Iron Chef competition at the Asunaro Dome. Anri was in the audience to cheer her on. The first sign that something was wrong came when Asuka failed to appear on stage for the final cook-off. Witnesses later identified a photo of Anri and agreed that they had seen her wander out the door and through main hallways, obviously worried and looking for something. As is becoming a worryingly common theme, the video surveillance system crashed for about forty minutes. Neither girl has been seen since.

 

While there have been many disappearances in Asunaro and its northern outskirts in the last four months, there has only been one unsolved case of a girl dying mysteriously in that time. On December 21^st, Michiru Kazusa (14) was found dead in her home. The girl had returned to Asunaro from her overseas boarding school to be with her grandmother as she died back in November, then decided to take the rest of the semester off to put her grandmother's residence in order. Her mother, out of the country on business, allowed it. Things seemed to go smoothly until that day in December. Neighbors reported hearing a loud sound in the afternoon, but at first thought nothing of it as there was a thunderstorm in the area. Neighbors coming home from work later were the first to notice something amiss— part of the roof had been blown off. Upon investigation, Kazusa's body was found prone on the floor below the center of the hole in the roof. Authorities initially suspected a lightning strike, but the body showed no sign of electrical burns or any other cause of death and expert analysis of the home did not support the theory. The roof had obviously exploded outwards, but no cause for this could be found and there was no explosion trauma to Kazusa's body.

 

While every metropolitan area has its share of runaways, disappearances, and deaths, the sheer concentration of these occurrences in the last several months is extremely disturbing. What was once thought to be a problem focused in Mitakihara has expanded to the entire metro area. Our press organization has reached out to neighboring population centers such as Soma and Sendai for information. Both show an exponentially smaller incidence of similar disappearances and deaths relative to population and no unexplained cases of attempted suicide followed by amnesia.

 

Whatever is at the root of this, it seems to be local. We pray this mystery is solved swiftly.

 

Until then, keep tabs on your daughters, Mitakihara.

MITAKIHARA DISAPPEARANCES: NEW WITNESS EMERGES

ENCOUNTERED MISSING GIRLS TOGETHER ON MARCH 25TH

April 22, 20XX 07:03 PM

A witness whose name has not been released approached the authorities claiming to have seen Sayaka Miki (14), Madoka Kaname (14), and Mami Tomoe (15) together before the three went missing. The witness, a young woman employed as a restaurant hostess, claims to have encountered the girls during a mysterious episode akin to the TV station “mass hallucination” event.

Late on the afternoon of March 25^th, the witness recalls taking the train to her usual stop, getting a drink from a vending machine, and becoming distracted on the walk to the restaurant. She remembers feeling like she was supposed to go somewhere important and walking the opposite direction of her place of employment. The woman claims she blacked out, but that she has a vivid memory of standing on top of a building and seeing the sunset. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground in front of the abandoned Yunichiya Textiles office and manufacturing facility in the south of town. She was in her stocking feet, shoes nowhere to be found, and was being cradled by a girl she has identified from recent newscasts as Mami Tomoe. She realized she had nearly jumped off the building and broke down in horror. Tomoe allegedly consoled her. The witness says two schoolgirls who looked like Kaname and Miki stood nearby. The witness claims to not remember how she got to the ground floor, but says she had guessed that the girls must have coaxed her down. However, her shoes remained missing and her stockings were not torn from walking through an abandoned building.

Authorities were dispatched to investigate the scene of the alleged sighting. “Even if it's too late to track the girls from that point, we are very interested in the impulsive attempted suicide with blackouts and amnesia in people with no history of mental illness, as in the television station case,” said Spokeswoman Kuroe Mura. “We will survey the scene and have confiscated the vending machine from which this witness obtained a drink before she began to feel strange. Nearly a month has passed since the incident so I wish to caution the public that we may not find anything. However, I also strongly urge the public to come forward if you have had a similar experience in which you found yourself in a dangerous situation with little memory of how you got there. We won't be able to identify a pattern if people are too ashamed or frightened to come forward. Should anyone come forward, the Mitakihara Municipal Police guarantee anonymity for the duration of the investigation.”

Police remain uncertain whether the missing girls knew something about these mysterious incidents or were present by coincidence, but for now the two cases are being treated as potentially linked.

Updated April 22, 20XX 7:38 PM

Initial reports from the Yunichiya Textiles investigation confirm that the hostess' red shoes were found near the edge of the rooftop. Apparent sun and rain damage seems to corroborate that they have been up there for a month. The hostess will begin testing like the TV station victims tomorrow.

Kisuke sat back and rolled the last gummy candy around in his mouth as he thought. Curious. Especially when combined with Isshin's claim of the spiritually aware girl bearing residual Hollow reiatsu being aware of disappearances and deaths before they were publicly known. Hmm. Something interesting lay there.

Dead bodies with no apparent cause of death, particularly in the numbers cited, could certainly indicate Hollow activity. Knocking a soul out of a living person to devour it often left no marks on the physical body. He wondered if the two dead girls who had displayed signs of a fight— Bethany Michaels with her obvious injuries and Michiru Kazusa with her badly damaged house— had been spiritually aware enough to defend themselves.

If the culprit was a Hollow— or multiple Hollows— the way the missing Mitakihara girls were tied to disappearances and thwarted suicide attempts added credibility to Isshin's hypothesis about them being spiritually aware. Similar to how once upon a time he had gone back and cross-referenced the filming locations for Don Kanonji's television show and the appearance of new Hollows— he had found the celebrity medium to be a previously unrecognized cause of accelerated Hollow development. Kisuke pondered the girls' known involvement and wondered if something similar was at play. Were they Fullbringers? Did their high reiatsu draw Hollows in and endanger others? There was no way to know without more research, so he set that train of thought aside.

The mysterious suicides and thwarted attempts were strange. The online testimony of similar occurrences at places thought to be haunted was another red flag. Suicide would expose the souls for Hollows to devour, but brainwashing or whatever was being done seemed too complicated for most Hollows to bother with— most would dive in for a meal instead of toying with prey. There were powerful anomalies like Shrieker and Grand Fisher, of course, who delighted in manipulating the living and luring prey to their own deaths. More highly evolved and intelligent Hollows such as Adjuchas and Arrancars could be capable of such a thing. Hollows usually left a trail of bodies, though. More bodies than were being found, anyway. And their predations were usually noticed by Twelfth Division before their body count got this high, even if they could hide their reiatsu. Kisuke himself had designed the algorithm to flag unusually frequent use of small-scale Gargantas. Unless the predator was intelligent enough and knowledgeable enough of shinigami procedures to avoid using Gargantas for travel in a small area, the detection threshold should have been exceeded in mid-March at the latest. Especially if the suicides and the disappearances were caused by two different Hollows.

What an interesting— if thoroughly morbid— puzzle.

If this was the work of, say, a highly intelligent Arrancar with a unique ability and a sadistic stalker or serial killer's mindset... Well. The Mitakihara area was in deep trouble. Assuming evidence of Hollow activity could be found.

Which brought him back to Twelfth Division and Mayuri Kurotsuchi.

Kisuke smirked and cracked his knuckles. “Ahhh, I guess there's nothing for it,” he said with false regret.

Midnight deep in the bowels of the Twelfth Division labs was Mayuri Kurotsuchi's favorite time and place to be. If he could be said to have a favorite anything, that is. It was much quieter with most of his lackeys away in bed, just a skeleton night crew on duty to observe the global reishi and Garganta monitors and the occasional round-the-clock experiment. Mayuri got his best work done when all the noisy morons were asleep. He wrought masterpieces in the night. The lack of interruption was magnificent.

“Captain Kurotsuchi.”

Mayuri grit his teeth at the sound of his lieutenant's emotionless voice. “What have I told you about interrupting my experiments, you disobedient simpleton?!”

“To only do so at non-critical moments if and only if the subject is apocalyptic or interesting, Captain Kurotsuchi.”

Mayuri sneered down at his project and tweaked a wire. “And what have you deemed so important as to interrupt me?”

Nemu paused. It was the only hint of her trepidation before she tonelessly answered, “Kisuke Urahara has called. He requests an audience.”

Mayuri hurled a scalpel at Nemu. She dodged her head expressionlessly as the implement twanged into the wall behind her. “You fool! I have no interest in speaking to that contemptible miscreant!”

The PA system snapped and whined before a voice crackled over the speakers. “Waaaahhhh, Mayuriiiiin, you break my heart.”

Mayuri's eye twitched dangerously, veins bulging at his temples. “How dare you hijack my communications system?!”

“How? Aha! Well, I must say, your communications aren't nearly as well-protected as your databases,” Urahara's cheerful voice bubbled from above.

Furious, Mayuri made a mental note to rectify that.

“Aaaanywhooo~” warbled Urahara. “I come bearing something interesting and a request for help.”

“Denied.”

“Aww, but I didn't even get to the good part.”

Mayuri always hated his former captain's ability to express a pout in his voice. It forced him to picture the moron's ugly face making its ugliest expression. “There is never a good part with you.”

“I'm hurt.” Urahara sniffled for a moment, then sobered. “In all seriousness, Captain Kurotsuchi, I think you'll find this interesting. It's possible I've simply stumbled upon a human serial criminal of some sort, but the preponderance of testimony suggests something spiritual. A Hollow or other spiritual being may have figured out how to evade your sensors. Whatever it is seems to have a preference for pubescent girls. That, and I'm looking at a curious set of circumstances which indicate there may be a Hollow which has learned how to cause humans to attempt suicide, sometimes en masse, followed by amnesia if they are unsuccessful.”

Mayuri grimaced and reluctantly lifted his head. Okay, that did sound mildly interesting. However... “Are you slighting my sensors?!”

“Not at all, Mayuriiiiin, not at all! I've peeked at them a few times over the years. I find your improvements of excellent quality. Unless you've destroyed them since the last security upgrade, I have the utmost confidence in them~!”

Nemu stared blandly at her captain, who was frothing with rage.

“In fact, I have so much confidence in them that I am very curious to see what sort of data they have on an area near Soma, Japan. My own sensors don't extend that far north, you see. I am but a humble shopkeeper, after all.” Urahara's voice downshifted from cheerful to ominously sly. “I don't doubt that your sensors are superb. But if something creative or new is out there that you don't yet know to account for... that would be fascinating, wouldn't it?”

The lab fell into near silence once more, Urahara waiting while Mayuri resentfully tinkered with his experiment as he thought. He drew the silence out as long as he could before snapping, “What sort of evidence do you have to give you reason to bother me with this?”

“I sent a detailed report to your lieutenant, if you'd like to glance at it.”

Mayuri snaked his gaze to his lieutenant. Nemu held up a tablet, which Mayuri snatched from her grasp. He ordered her to tidy up his project space and strolled from the lab to his private office, reading rapidly. His lips drew into a sneer when he heard a crackle signifying Urahara had jumped to the PA in his office. The buffoon had sense enough to stay quiet while he read, at least.

At length, Mayuri tossed the tablet onto his desk. “This could mean anything, you dolt.”

“I am aware that it could mean a lot of things, some of them mundane. But checking the local data should be simple and something among it could prove interesting, don't you think?”

Mayuri only dignified the question with a grunt. “There isn't a report on the girl Shiba told you about.”

“I haven't examined her. Isshin is going to tell Ichigo to get the girls to my shop tomorrow or the next day so I can do a passive scan. We don't want to alarm her if she doesn't know about shinigami.”

Mayuri rolled his head and cracked his neck irritably. “You're soft and Shiba is an idiot.”

“Perhaps. But correct me if I'm wrong: That metropolitan area has only become densely populated in the last couple decades. It used to be uninhabited swamp. Theoretically speaking, its spiritual density should be mid-level and not conducive to producing many Pluses or Hollows. Newly dead souls should mostly slip right through to Soul Society. Even if this girl is as aware as Isshin claims, it could be possible she's never encountered a Plus or shinigami.”

Mayuri grimaced. “Technically speaking, I suppose. Though if there are as many spiritually aware whelps there as you seem to think there are, that would indicate something accelerating... the increase of density of... hmmm. A shift in spiritual density should appear on a sensor array, but if the denser souls are consumed when they reach critical mass, and consolidated... pubescent girls would be an ideal target as they approach spiritual maturity... but the energy...” He stared at a wall, thinking.

“Uwaa, you're brilliant! But don't worry, Mayuriiiiin! If you're too busy, I'll take a vacation up in Mitakihara and figure it out myself~”

Mayuri rolled his eyes at the transparent attempt at reverse psychology. “I'll have Akon look into this tomorrow. Send a report on the girl when you can.”

“Okay!” chirped Urahara. “Pleasant dreams, Mayuriiiiiiiin!”

The PA system crackled and went dead. Mayuri stared at it for a moment, then turned to his computer.

He had a communications security system to rewrite.

Chapter Text

FÜNFZEHN

TIMELINE X+N

Homura sat sleepily in her futon as the Kurosaki girls were getting ready for school. She stared up at the cloudless blue sky beyond the window's glass.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and Madoka was dead again.

But this time was different. It felt less horrible on this lovely Saturday morning. Madoka's death hadn't been meaningless this time. It had seemed so, yes, but it had driven her to an entire assortment of new possibilities for saving Madoka and keeping the other girls alive while protecting Mitakihara— and enough time left in this cycle to actually explore them. She could almost convince herself that this was Madoka's gift to her. Irrational as that was, it was a comfort.

Breakfast was pleasant. Homura still held back, but was more comfortable being among the Kurosaki banter. The twins soon ran off to school and Homura was left with Isshin again. Fortified with copious amounts of coffee, the two began the task of contacting the adults in Homura's life. While she didn't show it, Homura was terribly amused by Isshin's dismay with the communications circus involved in actually speaking to her uncle. It had been the equivalent of at least a few years since Homura had bothered trying, so it was a novelty to her instead of a special Hell.

After the third secretary put them on hold for the fifth time, Isshin turned to Homura with a disheartened face. “Doesn't he have a personal cell phone?”

Homura shrugged. “He does not tell me where he is and has different cell phones for different business destinations depending on roaming fees. He is very frugal about such things so he has more to spend on entertainment. If he has an internet-based method of contact, he has not given it to me.” She glanced down at the swirl of cream lazily circling her coffee and haltingly added, “I think he prefers to be difficult to contact. By me, at least. I am to call his home office and have them patch me through. Eventually. Or they relay a message that I am to consult with his lawyer in Tokyo.”

Isshin frowned disapprovingly. “That's ridiculous. He should be taking care of you. Someone should be taking care of you.”

“My parents and grandparents are dead and my only family is my uncle,” Homura explained. “He is rarely in one place for even a solid month. Mother said it is easier for him to hide his girlfriends from each other that way.”

Isshin choked on his coffee.

Homura raised a brow at him and waited for comment, but resumed when the man just stared. “Until recently, I could not travel due to my illness even if I wanted to. Fortunately, I prefer my apartment. It is quiet and I do not have to deal with my uncle's latest assistant hovering all the time. As if it would make a difference to him.” She shook her head and closed her eyes as she lifted her mug to her lips. Why the hell had that slipped out? There were far worse things to be bitter about. Homura glanced up at Isshin through her eyelashes and saw something fierce glinting in his eyes.

For a moment, Homura flashed back to her mother's outrage when she discovered her daughter was being bullied for being excused from gym class. Just as quickly, Homura averted her gaze into her coffee cup and forcibly quashed the memory.

Thankfully, the secretary came back on the line before Isshin could prod that sore spot any more. They did end up being referred to the lawyer. Isshin's face was sour as they made that call. Homura didn't pay attention to the adults' businesslike conversation about her temporary living situation and its cause. That exchange still went far more smoothly than talking to her school. Evidently they were buried in media questions and parent demands about security measures. They eventually agreed to call back on Monday if she wouldn't be attending.

When they hung up, Isshin and Homura looked at each other and shared a moment of pity for the poor school secretary. Further conversation was forestalled by a patient relentlessly ringing the clinic buzzer. The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Before they knew it, the twins were home from their half-day at school.

Yuzu cheerfully announced, “We passed all our tests!”

Isshin let out a roar of pride and swept Yuzu into a hug and twirled her. “Daddy's so proud! Victory ice cream tonight!”

Lunch was a lively affair, the twins even coaxing Homura into comparing their tests with where her school's classes were in the same subjects. It passed quickly. Soon, Isshin returned to the clinic and the girls set out to wander around town, Karin bringing her soccer ball along in a net. Homura wasn't sure what the sisters intended to do, but they seemed to urgently want her to follow them.

A few blocks from the clinic, Karin said, “We want you to see a Hollow. Maybe fight it. So you know what we're talking about and can be more convincing when you talk about Witches as if they're Hollows. That okay?”

Quite rational, really, and it dovetailed nicely with Homura's wish to investigate. “Yes.”

“It's been a few days since we last saw a Hollow,” said Yuzu. “There's no guarantee we'll find one, but we're overdue for one.”

“We'll just hang out until we sense one, yeah?”

Homura nodded and made a quiet sound of agreement.

“Now, when we do find one, the trick is to not transform. You know how to strengthen yourself and jump around without transforming, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to channel your reiatsu— your magic— through other objects to fight with them?”

Homura thought of her experiments with making fuel trucks move to use as mobile bombs against Walpurgisnacht. “Yes.”

“By the way, what is your weapon?” asked Yuzu.

“A shield.”

Karin made an incredulous sound and demanded, “That little circle you had on your arm?!”

“Yes.”

“Huh. That must be interesting to use offensively,” Karin said with a cringe.

Homura hummed, wryly reflecting upon her initial dismay at figuring out how to actually fight. “It has an unlimited storage capacity, though, so I also collect and use guns and bombs.”

The twins stopped and looked at Homura with wide eyes.

“Real guns?” Yuzu asked.

Homura raised a brow and mildly said, “You saw me holding a gun the first night, did you not?”

“Oh,” Yuzu said faintly.

Karin sputtered. “Well— now you mention— I—”

“You forgot that I had a gun,” Homura said flatly.

“No! I thought it was a magic gun!”

“Oh.” Homura supposed that made sense.

Yuzu just kept staring. “Real guns?”

“Where do you get guns and bombs?!” Karin demanded shrilly.

“I steal the guns from the yakuza and I make the bombs myself. And I took some grenades from the JSDF.”

The sisters gaped.

Karin whistled. “Damn, you're way more gutsy than I pegged you for.”

Homura tilted her head.

“I don't mean that as an insult. It's just that you're so quiet and polite. The thought of you stealing weapons and throwing bombs around is mind-boggling.”

Yuzu's lips quirked up as she finally shook her surprise. “Beware the quiet ones, huh, Karin?”

Karin barked a laugh. “Yep!”

Yuzu pursed her lips. “You can't use guns and bombs on Hollows, though, even if you channel your magic through them. Hollows don't have labyrinths, so you'd look like you were shooting at nothing and probably hit bystanders. And the police would come. That would get messy.”

Homura hummed an agreement. “I will think of something.” She thought for a moment, then hesitantly confessed, “When I first became a magical girl, I channeled my magic through a golf club. I can do something like that again.”

Karin laughed long and loud. “A golf club?!”

Yuzu shook her head, smiling. “You're one to talk. You use a soccer ball.”

Karin snickered and grinned. “True, true. Whatever works, right Homura?”

Homura found herself smiling slightly. “Yes.”

They walked in companionable silence for a couple blocks. Then Karin idly asked, “Do you play much soccer?”

Homura hummed quietly. “I do not think I have ever played it.”

Karin stopped and gaped at her, aghast. “Never?!”

Homura flushed. “I wanted to. But until I had my surgery over the winter... until I used my magic to heal myself more... Well, I could not. And I was busy after I became a magical girl. If we have not done it in gym in the last few weeks, I have not done it at all. We are on a track and field rotation now.”

Karin looked appalled for a moment before her face abruptly shifted into bright-eyed determination.

Yuzu smiled. “Ah, now you've done it.”

“I'll teach you!”

Karin's enthusiastic shout startled Homura so much she actually jumped. Yuzu smothered giggles. Homura faltered, her old self peeking through the cracks of her mask. “ B-but I thought we were looking for Hollows?”

Karin grinned fiercely. “I've been fighting them with a soccer ball since long before I became a magical girl. If we sense one, we can get to it fairly quickly. May as well have fun til one shows its ugly face. Come on!” She took off at a run.

Homura looked to Yuzu, who shrugged and followed her sister at a jog. At a loss, Homura tagged along.

The following hour turned into soccer boot camp. It was awkward for Homura at first, but Karin's enthusiasm eventually bore her up. When Homura was focused on learning the game, lost in angles, running, velocity, the bright spring sunshine, and the smell of freshly-cut grass, she was able to put aside her troubles, however briefly.

Homura had lost track of time when she skidded to a halt mid-play. She sensed a strange magical signature that reminded her of the feel of a labyrinth collapsing— of tearing out of the nightmare dimension and reentering reality. It made her shudder. The twins also stopped and looked toward the source of the feeling.

“Garganta,” murmured Karin.

“What?”

“A door Hollows use to get from their dimension to ours,” explained Yuzu. “Come on. It's not far off.”

Karin grabbed her ball and net, then the girls ran out into the neighborhood. Three blocks later, they rounded a corner into an alley and stopped. Two Hollows roughly the size and shape of large dogs had trapped a small boy. He must have been spiritually aware because he looked right at the monsters and cowered in terror as they growled.

“Okay, this is real simple,” Karin lectured. “The trick is to break the Hollow's mask. Watch.” She whistled sharply. When the Hollows turned, she wound up and drop-kicked her soccer ball straight into one of their faces. The glowing ball shattered the Hollow's bone mask. The Hollow convulsed and began to disappear, seeming to become more humanoid before vanishing completely as a butterfly rose into the sky.

The second Hollow hesitated for a moment, then overcame its surprise and leapt at the girls. Desperate for a weapon, Homura saw a piece of rebar in a pile of trash that must have come from someone's remodeling project. In one smooth movement, she swooped up the metal bar, flooded it with her magic, and swung at the Hollow's face as its jump carried it toward her. The mask broke with a resounding crack before the monster evaporated like its companion.

Homura blinked at the empty space, still brandishing the glowing iron rod. Yuzu stepped forward to comfort the little boy. Karin grinned and slapped a hand on Homura's shoulder. “Good job.”

Just then, there was a whoosh of displaced air above them. The girls looked up and saw a burly man sporting a large brown afro and black traditional clothing wielding a sword. After a moment, he lowered his weapon with a frown and complained, “Leave something for me to do for once, Kurosaki.”

Karin smirked and shrugged. “Not our fault you're slow, Afro-man.”

The man pursed his lips and one of his eyebrows twitched in irritation.

Karin noticed Homura looking at the man with trepidation. “Oh, Homura, this is Afro-man.”

“Zennosuke Kurumadani!” the man insisted.

Karin ignored him and plowed on. “He's the shinigami assigned to patrol Karakura.”

Unsure what to do, Homura opted to nod a polite greeting at him.

Kurumadani looked dismayed. “Another person who can see spirits? This town, I swear—”

“Aww, but you have like the easiest assignment ever, Afro-man! Make it a vacation!”

The shinigami didn't dignify the suggestion with an answer, sheathing his sword and leaping away.

Without losing a beat, Karin stepped toward Yuzu and called over her shoulder, “Let's get this kid home and get back to our game, yeah?”

On a rooftop a mile away, Kisuke Urahara lowered his field glasses.

So the girl did know how to fight Hollows. Was even capable of defeating low-level ones with a single blow. And he had glimpsed her considerable strength when her reiatsu momentarily flared while wrapping the rod in the violet light of her power.

“My, my. The Kurosaki siblings befriend the most interesting people.”

Ichigo entered his house in mid-afternoon and carelessly shed his backpack and duffle in a heap by the door.

“I'm hooooome,” he called. No one replied. He cast out his senses; the old man was in the clinic with a normal person and the girls were... probably at the soccer field, from what he could tell of direction and distance. In the opposite of a hurry, he grabbed a snack and flopped onto the couch with his phone.

An hour later, Isshin charged into the house and hurdled over the back of the couch. “ICHIGOOO—!”

Ichigo jabbed both legs up and kicked his father into a ninety-degree turn, whereupon he bowled over a (previously glued together) lamp on his way to the far wall. “Hey, old man.”

Isshin stood sharply, straightened his tie, and asked, “Have a nice trip?”

“Eh. It was a train ride. Trains are trains.” Ichigo swiped the screen of his phone a few times.

More seriously, Isshin asked, “Did you get the stuff I emailed you?”

Ichigo's eyes peered over his phone darkly. “Yeah. Looks bad. Find out anything else from the girl's family?”

Isshin made a disgruntled face. “That poor girl. All she has is some globe-trotting ladies' man of a rich uncle who refers her to his lawyer for everything. Evidently he didn't find the situation serious enough to deal with himself— or even to talk to his niece to make sure she was all right after fleeing in fear of her life. So she's been left to deal with this all alone. It's criminal.”

Ichigo scowled, then tried to reassure them both. “Well, Inoue went through a lot while in basically the same situation and she ended up okay.” Barring certain eccentricities, but whatever. He was hardly one to talk there. “It does suck, though. Have you heard anything from Urahara?”

“Kisuke called to say he got Twelfth looking at the Mitakihara area.”

“How'd he pull that off?”

“God only knows. He sounded delighted. I hope I don't see Kurotsuchi for awhile.”

Ichigo snorted. “I think everyone thinks that all the time.” He put down his phone and gave his father a measured look. “You sent me all that stuff for a reason. What kinda goal're you giving me, old man?”

Isshin sat in a chair and tented his fingers. After taking a moment to gather words, he started thinking out loud. “I'd like you to try to talk to Homura.” Ichigo raised a brow. “Whether or not you realize it, you are good at drawing people out. Getting them to open up and rely on others. No matter how I look at it, I'm certain this girl knows some vital information and just doesn't have any faith in the adults she could talk to. I can't blame her, considering her family situation. She's plainly more open even just to simple conversation when the girls are around— she clams up if she's with just me. Becomes a very polite brick wall. You're at that magical in-between place where you aren't a kid but you're not quite an adult yet.”

“Hey.”

“I'm hoping she'll open up to you if you just... be yourself.”

Ichigo's lips quirked sarcastically. “Be myself, huh?” He drifted off in thought for a moment, then refocused on his father. Isshin was sitting hunched, hand holding his chin and covering his mouth while he looked concerned. Ichigo tilted his head. “There something else?”

Isshin looked a bit surprised, settled, bit his lip, and quietly answered, “She reminds me of you.”

Ichigo's brows screwed up incredulously. “Haaaa? I thought you said she's quiet, reserved, and unfailingly polite.”

Isshin looked at Ichigo searchingly while biting his thumb. After a moment, he clarified, “I mean you when you were nine years old.”

Ichigo's face instantly went grim and flat. His heart dropped. “Oh.” After a long silence, he asked, “That bad, huh?”

“Trying to act normal but actually a guilty, grieving mess beneath the surface, all while walking around with as much reiatsu as a seated officer? Yes.”

Ichigo lay back, closed his eyes, and blew out a deep breath. “I'll try.”

“That's all I can ask of you, son.”

After a long few minutes, Ichigo asked, “As much reiatsu as a seated officer, huh?”

It was Isshin's turn to blow out a deep sigh. “Mid-range, at my best guess. It's difficult to tell. Unlike you, she appears to have her power tightly controlled. Rather like your sisters.”

“Well, that's one thing she has going for her, at least.”

“Yeah. So anyway, I was thinking maybe tomorrow you could take the girls out. Have fun. Find an excuse to stop at Urahara Shop for candy or something on the way home.”

“And whyyy am I leading an innocent girl into Sandal-Hat's clutches?”

“So he can do a passive scan of her. Figure out how much reiatsu she really has, if that really is Hollow reiatsu on her. It may help narrow the investigation— give Kisuke a sample signal to try to trace up in Mitakihara.”

“Side effects?”

“None. He's done it to your sisters a few times. They're fine. Never noticed.”

Ichigo turned and gave his father a look. “Do you have any idea how sleazy that sounded?”

Isshin barked out a laugh. “Well, I guess. Your sisters have—”

Both men abruptly turned and stared beyond the far wall, sensing a Garganta. They felt the girls move toward the source instead of away. Ichigo cursed, threw himself to his feet, and readied his badge.

Isshin grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

“What the hell?!”

“Just wait. I sense Kisuke. Hold on.”

They sat tensely as they tracked the Kurosaki girls' progress. Their movement stopped, then Karin's reiatsu flared in a short, sharp burst. Immediately thereafter, a reiatsu signature Ichigo had never felt before flared beside her. It was like a brief, dizzying flash of cold starshine, then sharply dropped, hesitated, and completely retracted into itself. The Hollow reiatsu was gone.

“What the hell.”

Isshin scratched the back of his head and sighed. “Well, I guess that answers that question.”

“What?”

“Whether or not Homura knows how to fight Hollows.”

“Wait, that was her?!”

“Yuuup.”

Ichigo whistled long and low. “She felt damn near lieutenant-class. Not quite, but near that. And Karin's at that level, too.”

“Yeeeah. That's more than I expected.” Isshin ruffled his hair irritably. “Now I'm really worried about what Homura's been through. That felt practiced and controlled. No wobbliness as though inexperienced. If she's that strong and something up north overpowered her, killed her friend... or friends....”

“Then something's really fucked up up north.”

“Yeah.”

Ichigo scrubbed his face with his hands. “Ugh, can I have a solid year in which I both have my powers and there is no ominous spiritual crisis. Please.”

Isshin slapped his back. “Sorry, son. Seems to be a family curse.”

“Dammit.”

Homura followed the sisters home after another two hours— two hours!— of running around playing soccer, breathless and somehow lighter than she had felt in awhile. She was capable of performing amazing physical feats as a magical girl but the novelty had worn off. Having the stamina to run around in civilian form made her feel free. When all of this is over and everyone is safe, I want to play soccer with Madoka and everyone, she thought impulsively. Strangely, the frivolous goal felt... buoyant. Something to aim for beyond Madoka surviving Walpurgisnacht in one piece physically, mentally, and spiritually. A more cheerful goal than plain “avoid death and corruption.” Something to work towards rather than fight against. And, actually, the first time in many cycles she dared think of what could happen beyond Walpurgisnacht.

As they approached the Kurosaki Clinic, Homura slowed. She sensed a kind of magic she had never felt before. It was as if the clinic contained a banked wildfire that was somehow dark; like a bonfire on a hot summer night under a full moon, somehow comforting despite being wrapped in shadows and at risk of burning out of control. Warm and inviting but not to be trifled with.

“Onii-chan is here!” squealed Yuzu.

“C'mon, Homura!” Karin called happily.

Homura jogged after them. Is that their brother I sense?! she thought. They said powerful, but this is... this is... She was at a loss for words even in her own head.

The sisters entered the house, kicked off their shoes, and hurried down the hall with Homura on their heels. In the living room, they threw themselves at a tall, lean young man in his late teens. He laughed and ruffled their hair as he said, “What's this? I was only gone for a week.”

“But you were gone and now you're back, Onii-chan! We're happy!” cheered Yuzu.

The young man laughed again. “If you say so. It's good to see you, too.” He looked up, saw Homura, and tossed her a lazy salute. “Yo.”

Homura's cheeks pinked. She faltered, uncertain whether to wave back or bow politely. An awkward hybrid of the two won the day. “U-um, hello,” she squeaked. His body language and face broadcast casualness, but his eyes were attentive— a sort of sharp curiosity as if he was trying to see through her, but not maliciously. The juxtaposition threw her, especially combined with the moonlight-and-embers magic that emanated from him. His power felt like it had weight to it— as though the air was thicker in his presence. It was something she had only really noticed with Walpurgisnacht and Madoka— though the Witch was an all-encompassing weight of dread and Madoka's power felt like bright spring sunshine and the softness of rose petals.

“Ichi-nii, this is our friend, Homura,” said Karin. “Homura, this is our big brother, Ichigo.”

Ichigo smiled crookedly at her and nodded a greeting. “Nice to meet you, Homura.”

Homura wrung her hands and bowed slightly. “Nice to meet you, too, um... Mister... Kurosaki...?”

Ichigo pulled a face. “That's my old man. Ichigo's fine, really.”

“Okay.” Homura looked down at her feet. Somehow she felt like her old, shrinking violet self with braids and glasses in his presence— like she actually wanted to hide behind those old shields of hers for a moment. Like he was very big and she was very small. She wasn't sure what to think of that.

Ichigo stood back and eyed all three girls evenly. Even the sisters tensed under his evaluation. Mildly, he said, “I've been home for a few hours now.”

The girls stared blankly at the apparent non sequitur. Then Karin cringed. “Oh. Oops.”

The other girls looked at her as Ichigo drawled, “Yeeeah, 'oops.' I thought I told you to stop running toward Hollows when there is a perfectly capable shinigami stationed here.” His eyes shifted to Homura. “That goes for you, too. Stay safe if you can.”

Homura startled. How—?

“You sensed the fight,” Yuzu guessed.

“Mm-hmm.”

“I can't believe you just referred to Afro-man as capable, Ichi-nii.”

Ichigo shrugged. “Eh. He's improved. Give him a chance to do his job.”

Karin stared flatly at her brother. “He's slow, Ichi-nii, and you know it.”

“Still faster than he was when I first ran into him.”

“That's pathetic.”

Ichigo shrugged again.

“You sensed us fighting the— the Hollows?” Homura asked in surprise.

“Yep.” Ichigo raised his brows speculatively. “Felt like you were pretty damn efficient. You have experience?”

Oh, hey, there was the question the twins had implied would come eventually. “Um. Uh. Yes?”

Ichigo tilted his head curiously. “The old man said you're from Mitakihara. You get a lot of Hollows up there, then?”

Homura stared at him like a deer in headlights, rapidly wondering which tack to take to cause what effect. She hadn't decided how involved she wanted to get shinigami yet or how to do it! She wouldn't flail awkwardly while she scrambled for an answer. Would not. She was calm, cool, and collected. Definitely not a small child being questioned by a casually suspicious babysitter. Forget plans. Her eyes darted to Karin's. What is the most logical answer?! she thought at her. Without the Incubator's presence, her attempt at telepathy failed. The one thing it was good for—!

Karin must have read her face correctly, though. Quietly, she murmured, “Please don't ask her a lot of questions about Hollows, Ichi-nii. Homura's not used to other people knowing about them and her friends....” Karin bit her lip and directed a significant and honestly apologetic look at Homura before softly finishing, “Her friends were hunted and eaten.”

Off balance from being questioned before she could make a plan and unprepared for the bluntness of the declaration— hunted and eaten hunted and eaten hunted eaten eaten eaten— Homura didn't have to fake the hard flinch that immediately overtook her, nor the reflexive screwing shut of her eyes as memories of various timelines assaulted her: Mami's head being bitten off by the Sweets Witch. Madoka crushed in the Mermaid Witch's fist, being lifted toward its armored mouth. That timeline in which the Shadow Witch strangled Sayaka and absorbed her into its many vines. The time the Box Witch's minions tore Madoka limb from limb and started feeding her pieces into their mistress' monitor-body while Madoka scre—

Homura startled violently at the feel of hands on her shoulders.

“Breathe. C'mon, breathe. In and out.”

She gasped deeply, unaware of having stopped, and opened her eyes.

Ichigo had both of his hands on her shoulders, grip firm. His face was a picture of concern and sympathy. “Good. Good. In and out. You're safe, now.”

He had no idea. She really wasn't. The dam broke once more. “M-Mami. It bit her h-head off and ate h-her,” Homura randomly blurted, on the edge of hyperventilating. “And Muh— Muh— Muh— it crushed her in its ha-and—!” Tears burned her eyes and throat. She sobbed once and gasped reedily again, closing her eyes.

The twins blanched. Homura hadn't shared those details before.

Ichigo rubbed her shoulders. It reminded Homura of her parents soothing her after nightmares. “You're safe. Shh. Keep breathing. We'll help you stop them. You're safe. We'll help you sort out Mitakihara. You're safe.”

Exhaustion was insidious and crept about her heart. All the things she didn't want to admit she felt came tumbling out. “I'll n-never be safe,” Homura mourned. Caught up in old trauma, her new hopes felt distant. “I try and try and try and they keep d-dying. I keep trying to save them but we'll never be safe and it'll n-never end.”

She was speaking about far more than the current timeline.

Homura tried not to react to the alarming thread of darkness— dangerously soul-deep despair— that whispered through her magic. It made Homura's blood run cold. I can't despair, I can't despair, I can't despair— not now! As though regaining consciousness in the midst of drowning, she mentally thrashed for something to bear her up. Anything.

Ichigo gave it to her.

“It will end. It will. Look at me.”

Homura looked up and found his eyes boring into hers, burning with righteous fury and fierce protectiveness.

“Listen. You don't have to fight by yourself anymore. I don't know what it is you have had to deal with exactly but you have survived it. You've clawed your way through hell, come out on the other side, and found people who can help. We'll figure this out. We're here to pick you up and help you now. You're not alone. We'll keep you safe and help you stand up stronger.” Ichigo squeezed her shoulders, face pained for her. “We can't bring your friends back, but we'll free their souls from whatever is hunting the girls where you live, got it? Even if all you can do for them is free their souls so they can move on, that's still a very important thing to do. They may be— may be dead now—” Ichigo took a deep breath and Homura closed her eyes again— “but you can still help them that much. We'll help you free them and save their souls so they can move on and find happiness in the next world, yeah? And keep that thing from hurting anyone else.”

Homura peeked up at him through puffy eyes. “How?”

Ichigo's mouth slid into a sharp, almost predatory grin. “I have a lot of friends who are very good at fighting things that go bump in the night and hate seeing kids hurt. I promise you, once we figure out what's going on, whatever is skulking around up there won't know what hit it.” His face softened back to warm sympathy. “And you and your friends will be free— in different ways, maybe, but free.” He squeezed her shoulders again. “How does that sound?”

Homura stared up at him speechlessly. She knew he couldn't possibly be speaking about her true situation— her endless cycles of trying to save her best friend— but it felt like he was. The prospect of help was... she didn't know how to describe it. Homura was afraid to hope for it lest she be disappointed. But now, finding potential help when she had gone so long struggling through plans and fighting and learning by herself... it could be such a relief if she could get it.

She wanted Karin and Yuzu's help. Wanted their brother's help. Wanted someone to help her figure out what to do. One of the things she had found herself resenting throughout the cycles was that figuring out how to resolve the cosmic mess that was this spring in Mitakihara was left to her, a fourteen-year-old girl who had spent half her life in hospitals or bedridden at home. It wasn't fair. Ichigo didn't know the depth of the situation, but he expressed agreement all the same. Those fierce, protective, sympathetic eyes....

Homura decided then and there to try to get Ichigo's help in the next timeline. She still wanted to see him fight because life had taught her to be extremely cautious, but she thought that his sheer power and apparent morality would make him a welcome ally. The weight of the world was oppressive on her slender shoulders. That moonlight-and-embers power felt like it had accepted her and turned its burning outward— toward those who threatened her. The feeling of safety was new. She liked it.

After a long minute of staring at Ichigo while her mind ran in circles, Homura whispered, “That sounds good.”

Ichigo grinned, squeezed her shoulders one last time, and ruffled her hair. “Good.” He bit his lip and seemed to debate with himself, then make a decision. “I know a guy who may be able to help look into things up there. I can take you to see him tomorrow if you like.”

He probably means that shinigami scientist the twins told me about, thought Homura. She wrung her hands and fidgeted, looking at her feet and wondering how going to that man so early could turn out.

Ichigo misinterpreted her body language and softly said, “Or you can talk to me and I can talk to him. Think about it, okay?”

Homura nodded, allowing her uncertainty and vulnerability to remain visible on her face. Maybe he'd be more inclined to keep the scientist away from her if he thought she was afraid. She didn't want to end up on an exam table. Who knew what a shinigami could do to her powers?

The front door closed loudly in the distance. Ichigo glanced toward it and back at Homura in time to catch her slam her emotional floodgates shut with sheer force of will. She dammed her heart up once more and made her face instantly smooth into an aloof façade as she delicately wiped the tears from her cheeks. She had a lot of practice convincing people everything was fine.

Ichigo looked unnerved and alarmed.

Isshin frolicked into the room with his arms full of takeout bags and two big pails of ice cream. He gleefully announced, “Dinner and victory ice cream for my girls!” He looked around the room at the twins' stricken faces, Ichigo's hands on Homura's shoulders, and Homura's tear-swollen eyes— curse their betrayal!— and immediately sobered. “What's wrong?”

Homura brushed Ichigo's hands from her shoulders and stepped back. “Nothing, Dr. Kurosaki,” she said coolly.

The Kurosaki siblings all stared at Homura in disbelief. She felt an odd pang of regret; she had just startled them with a messy panic-attack-slash-meltdown and there she stood acting like it hadn't happened, perfectly poised. The only thing that betrayed her polite mask was the evidence of earlier tears.

Curse her tears! Why couldn't she control them better?!

Everyone stared at Homura until she raised one eyebrow and calmly asked, “I thought we were going to celebrate for Karin and Yuzu?”

“Uh, y—, um, yeah,” Isshin stammered as he watched his children stare at her like she had three heads.

Homura smoothed her skirt. “I think ice cream sounds very good. I have not had any in quite awhile,” she said demurely.

Deflect, deflect, deflect.

Ichigo turned to his father and made one of the more incredulous faces Homura had ever seen.

“Let's— um— let's go have dinner!” Yuzu said with forced cheer. “The sooner we're done with dinner, the sooner we can have ice cream.”

“Yeah,” Karin said awkwardly.

Well, at least the girls had her back. Sweet of them.

“I can help set the table,” Homura quietly volunteered.

“U-um, okay, come on,” Yuzu said. The girls all left the room.

Homura glanced back over her shoulder and saw Ichigo turn to his father and mouth, What the hell was that?

Isshin shrugged exaggeratedly and mouthed back, How should I know?

They weren't as willing to accept her mask at face value as the other adults she knew. Bothersome.

Homura spent the rest of the evening pretending the drama hadn't happened with such force that the Kurosaki family was gradually dragged in her wake and returned to normal. In other words, rowdy and loud. Evidently Karin took after her brother. Interesting. Homura managed to have a mostly pleasant evening.

She couldn't pretend away the memories in her dreams that night, though.

Chapter Text

SECHZEHN

TIMELINE X+N

Akon trudged into the Twelfth Division labs at dawn on Saturday, clinging to his large thermos of coffee for dear life and already itching for a smoke. He sat at his desk, pressed a button, and watched his computer boot up as he savored sweet, sweet caffeine. Peace in the lab. Yes.

When his captain materialized from the shadows like a ghoul, Akon didn't even flinch. “Good morning, Captain.”

Kurotsuchi looked more irritable than usual— must've pulled a third all-nighter. He carelessly tossed a tablet onto Akon's desk. Rude. “After your initial rounds, your project for the day is to study this evidence and research the relevant areas in our databases. Double check the integrity of any sensors involved. Report anything interesting to me.” With that, Kurotsuchi went his way. Akon stared after him.

Well, that was ominously vague.

Curious but also in possession of a healthy sense of self-preservation, Akon set aside the tablet and went through his daily start-up routine as ordered. Thinking ahead, he set up several diagnostics to run on various sensor arrays before the bulk of the workforce showed up and slowed scans down.

After an hour of checking on various experiments and specimens, Akon finally sat down with the tablet. At first he didn't understand why the hell he had been given articles about missing human girls, but he slowly became engrossed by the details and speculation about the patterns formed by them which Urahara had included in his notes. Akon went through everything a second time, outlining a research plan. After mid-morning rounds, lecturing someone regarding lab fire prevention after a spectacular pink blaze, and lunch, Akon sat down to research in earnest. The more data he looked at, the more he frowned.

That couldn't be right.

But the more he looked, the more all the various points of investigation agreed. What they agreed upon made no goddamn sense, but that many independent points of confluence was hard to argue with. Time for independent confirmation.

Akon went to the Spiritual Wave Measurement Lab and approached Rin Tsubokura. More considerate than his superior, Akon got Rin's attention then stood back and silently waited for him to finish what he was doing. Five minutes later, Akon gave Rin a blank research outline with no context as a control. Rin eyed him curiously but Akon refused to elaborate.

Four hours later, Rin appeared in Akon's doorway sporting an uncharacteristic scowl.

“Yes?”

“This makes no sense.”

Akon sat back. “I'm not the only one, then. Any ideas?”

Rin looked down at his tablet doubtfully. “I suppose that sector of the remote sensor array could be compromised. I ordered Kajiura's team to manually inspect it and overhaul it. I don't really think they'll find anything, though— the likelihood a cluster of errors this dense would go unnoticed for almost thirty years is very small.”

Akon leaned on one elbow and propped up his head. “What do you propose, then?”

“On-site readings,” Rin said, pursing his lips. “The portable reishi analysis machine has more delicate capabilities than the wide-scale sensor array. I'd... like to confirm these readings before you report to Captain Kurotsuchi. Have proof that it's not long-term shoddy maintenance.”

Keep his department alive and sane if possible, Akon translated. “Are you volunteering?”

“Yes.” Rin looked up, worried. “I've done it before. I'll have to devise a pattern for taking readings first, though. During the Winter War I had actual battle sites to target in Karakura. That made it easy.”

Akon rocked his office chair. “There are potential sites of disturbances in the information I held back. I'll forward it all to you. Submit your plan tomorrow and I'll approve your field research senkaimon permit with third seat authority. Keep it quiet for now.”

Rin bowed. “Yes, sir.” He looked up. “If some kind of disturbances brought your attention to this, do I— uh, do I need an escort?”

Akon grunted. “I'll arrange something.”

Ichigo turned off the television and stealthily rose from the couch at two in the morning. The evening had become something of a game-night-slash-slumber-party while his sisters tried to cheer up their friend. Ichigo had been glad to contribute— hey, if his bickering with Karin over her (totally unfair) actions taken in a video game entertained Homura, who was he to take that from her? The girls had eventually fallen asleep together during a movie, all cuddled together among pillows and blankets on the floor. He watched them for a minute— his sisters, bless their hearts, looked like they were trying to protect Homura in their sleep while she curled in on herself— before turning toward the kitchen.

He smelled tea. The old man had stayed up late to talk.

Ichigo entered the kitchen, looked at Isshin sitting at the table with two steaming mugs, and gestured toward the clinic. Isshin raised a brow and followed him. Ichigo gently closed the door behind them. They settled in Isshin's office.

“Sorry, didn't want to wake them.”

“I understand. Sooo, what the hell happened while I was out?”

Ichigo heaved a sigh and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. “Pretty sure I saw a fourteen-year-old girl have some kind of panic attack or PTSD episode then brutally suppress it the moment she noticed an adult was approaching.”

Isshin winced. “Your faces make sense now.”

Ichigo rubbed his eyes. “Seeing a kid like that— a girl the same age as Karin and Yuzu— seeing her just stop breathing then hyperventilate and cry... God.”

Isshin silently pushed a mug toward his son. Ichigo took it gratefully.

“How much did she tell you?”

“Not a lot, but what she did tell me... That poor girl.”

Isshin's dread was visible. “How much liquor am I going to want to numb my rage at the world?”

“A lot. Hell, I want a lot. And to smash things. I want to smash a lot of things.”

Isshin sat back and took a deep breath. “Tell me.”

Ichigo carefully put the tea mug down on the desk then gripped the arms of his chair in twin strangleholds. “Something crushed one of her friends in its hand and ate the body of another friend after biting her head off. Homura implied she's seen more than that— said she keeps trying and trying and trying to save 'them' but 'they' keep dying, no one will ever be safe, least of all her, and 'it' will never end.”

Isshin covered his face with both hands and hunched forward. It was a rare sight for Ichigo; it wasn't often his father had to focus on breathing and staying calm instead of exploding in parental rage.

A good five minutes slid by in tense silence before his father could bring himself to speak. “Learn anything else?”

Ichigo blew out a deep breath. “I think you're right about her being skittish of adults. Authority figures? I dunno. She got withdrawn and jittery when I brought up seeing Urahara tomorrow.”

“Why'd you tell her? Kisuke was just going to do a passive scan.”

Ichigo shrugged. “It made sense at the time. I had kinda talked her into letting me help her so I thought I'd go for it— get her to feel like she was taking control of things by seeking him out herself, you know? But I think I went too fast for her there. My bad. But I offered to be a go-between so hopefully she'll cooperate once she's had some sleep.”

They sat in silence a few moments before Ichigo hesitantly continued. “I've been wondering all night... about her friends....”

Isshin raised a brow. “Yeah?”

“Are there Hollows that eat physical bodies as well as souls? Because it seems like if a Hollow had knocked her friends' souls out then... you know... there should be bodies left behind.”

Isshin frowned. “There were several reports of dead girls with no apparent cause of death.”

“Yeah, I looked at the articles on my phone again when the girls were watching movies. But Homura said 'Mami' was beheaded and eaten and she's still listed as missing. She couldn't get out the second friend's name, she was hyperventilating so hard, but it started with an M. The only one that fits is the missing Madoka girl. Where are their bodies?”

“That's a good question. Something bizarre is happening up in Mitakihara.”

Ichigo looked at his father darkly. “When Urahara figures out what's going on up there, I want you to tell me so I can kill the bastards myself.”

Though grim, Isshin smirked. “Oho~, that attached already?”

Ichigo scoffed. “As if you aren't.”

“You got me there, son.”

Ichigo looked at the ceiling for a minute, thinking. “I wonder if she's a Fullbringer.”

“What makes you think that?” Isshin asked with raised eyebrows.

Ichigo rocked his head back and forth. “It doesn't seem quite right, but that's the thing that makes the most sense. You said you noticed that Hollow reiatsu, right? Well, when she was upset it kinda... rose to the surface, I guess. But she immediately reined it in. Fullbringers have Hollow-like powers so that would match, but then again, her reiatsu didn't feel Hollow-like when we sensed her fight earlier. My second guess would be a Visored with an Inner Hollow that got near the surface when she was distracted by her freakout, but I don't know how the hell that could be possible.”

Isshin stroked his chin. “Well, Aizen was conducting secret Hollowfication experiments on souls for decades. I suppose there could be some wandering around unnoticed if Twelfth didn't find all of his records in Hueco Mundo.”

Ichigo stared at him with flat trepidation. “There's an option the world could do without. If that turns out to be the case, I'm busting into his dungeon to curb-stomp him.”

Isshin sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes. “Well, all we have for now is speculation. We'll just have to see where tomorrow takes us. Let's go to bed.”

Ichigo hummed his agreement and followed his father into the house. As they made for the stairs, they heard a soft whimper. They checked on the girls and found Homura shifting restlessly in her sleep.

“Nightmares,” Ichigo said softly.

Isshin frowned and cautiously approached the girls. He bent, lay his hand over Homura's eyes, and murmured something. Homura's tense body relaxed. When he returned to Ichigo, his son looked at him questioningly.

“Hakufuku,” Isshin said under his breath. “A kidō usually used to cause people to go to sleep in such a way that it makes their memory of the time right before the spell is cast rather vague. It's essentially a gentle sedative.” Both men looked at the girls. “I don't like to do it but I think she really needs a solid night's sleep.”

Ichigo hummed in agreement. They said good night to one another and parted at the top of the stairs. That night it was Isshin and Ichigo who lay awake worrying instead of Homura.

Homura woke more refreshed than she had in... probably years. When Yuzu crawled away to start puttering about in the kitchen, Homura rolled onto her back and drowsily stared at the ceiling. She felt... mellow was a good word, she thought. Pleasant. Her eyes were drooping again when she heard a shout from upstairs followed by a window slamming closed and a scream outside.

Homura sat up swiftly, ready for a fight. Karin reached up and grabbed the back of Homura's nightgown and yanked her back down into the blanket nest. “Calm down. The men in the household are just doing their morning greeting ritual.”

“W-what?”

The front door slammed open and closed. Isshin wobbled into the hallway and stopped between the kitchen and living room. He dramatically leaned on the kitchen doorjamb and wailed, “Yuzuuuu! Big brother is being meeean to Daddy agaaain!”

Karin covered her eyes and grumbled, “My father is a five-year-old.”

“You should know better than to attack him in bed, Daddy!” Yuzu's voice chided.

“I was just saying good morrrniiiing,” sobbed Isshin.

“ACT YOUR AGE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD,” Ichigo shouted down the stairs.

“B-but Ichigooooooooo!”

“CAN YOU AT LEAST PRETEND YOU'RE AN ADULT WHILE WE HAVE A HOUSEGUEST?!”

“B-but I AM an adult!”

“I'VE MET TEN-YEAR-OLDS MORE MATURE THAN YOU!”

“MASAKIIIIIIII, OUR SON IS SO CRUEL!!!!!! WAAAAH!”

“FOR GOD'S SAKE, OLD MAN, IT'S SUNDAY MORNING! SOME PEOPLE WANT TO SLEEP IN! SHUT THE HELL UP!”

A thrown shoe rocketed down from the landing and pelted Isshin in the side of the head.

“MA-SA-KIIIIIIII! OUR SON IS A SURLY, VIOLENT, REBELLIOUS YOUNG MAAAN! WHAT DO I DOOOO? WHERE DID I GO WROOOONG?!”

“SHUT UP OR I'LL SHOW YOU SURLY AND VIOLENT!”

“WAAAAH, YUZU, BIG BROTHER IS THREATENING DADDY!”

“That's nice, Daddy,” Yuzu chirped.

Isshin wandered away, bawling.

Karin sighed and glanced at Homura, who was frozen in confused shock. “Kurosaki men are loud idiots with bizarre habits, Homura. It's just a fact of life. Accept it and move on or you'll go insane.”

“But— but they were fighting. Weren't they?”

“It's how those numbskulls show affection. Ichi-nii says it probably comes from Dad's family back in Soul Society. Apparently they're known for brash eccentricity and explosions.”

“Eccentricity.” Homura stared doubtfully. She wasn't even going to touch on explosions.

Karin snorted. “I know, right? Understatement of the century.”

After a lively late breakfast, Ichigo lured all three girls out of the house with the promise of a movie and lunch on him. Homura literally could not remember the last time she had been to a theater. She thought it was something animated— maybe with her mother? An early Madoka? Whatever. Guilt crept up on her for doing frivolous things instead of, say, stealing more weapons for her stash. But she really wanted to find out more about Ichigo and shinigami, and in order to do that she had to go with on the outing.

The fact that it felt good to slow down a bit and do something that didn't involve life-and-death decisions risking her friends' lives and souls was shamefully boxed up and hidden in a dark corner of her mind.

When they were wandering around the park with dessert crêpes from a vendor's cart, Ichigo gently broached the topic of Homura's problems. “Homura, have you thought about seeing the friend I told you about?”

Homura's eyes shiftily darted from one of his sisters to the other before glancing at him and away again. “Is it the man Karin and Yuzu said is a shinigami scientist?”

“Yeah, I guess that describes him.”

Homura fidgeted. “I do not want to be experimented on.”

“I don't think anyone does,” Ichigo said wryly. “But he won't do anything to you without your permission. He just wants to see how strong you are and ask you some questions.”

“He already knows about me?” Homura worried.

“Yeah. I think he saw you and Karin fight yesterday.”

Karin broke in. “Tch. Urahara is everywhere. Creepy stalker.”

Her brother rolled his eyes.

“What kind of questions?” asked Homura.

“Things about Mitakihara, about the things you've been fighting, that kind of stuff,” Ichigo replied. “I won't let him do anything to you and if the questions get too upsetting I'll make him stop. Is that okay?”

Homura nibbled on her crêpe and frowned doubtfully for a long minute, thinking. She was still a week away from her turn-back point. If the shinigami got involved, could they stop her from going back somehow? No one knew her power, though. If she kept that quiet and was careful with what other information she gave, it could be tactically useful to see how the shinigami handled things. If they decided to capture her, she could play her trump card and freeze time to escape. It would probably be more suspicious to refuse to be questioned anyway.

Homura tentatively answered, “All right... I suppose.”

Ichigo smiled slightly and ruffled her hair. “Good. I know it's hard. I bet grownups haven't reacted well if you've ever said anything about it before.”

Homura thought of one early timeline when she had still been childishly naïve in which she had gotten desperate and gone to the police. It hadn't ended well. She nodded slightly.

“You won't have to worry about that with Urahara. He's a shinigami, so you won't have to convince him you can see spirits and stuff. And Karin, Yuzu, and I will be with you.”

That wasn't what she was worried about, but Homura played along and forced her shoulders to relax a bit as though relieved. She was very aware of the twins carefully watching her, too. Probably wondering if she could stand up to questioning without revealing them all. “I'll try,” Homura said quietly.

Ichigo patted her shoulder. “You're brave. Let's finish these crêpes and go visit Sandal-Hat's shop.”

Kisuke was trawling supernatural forums and vaguely tracking the Kurosaki siblings and the mysterious girl when a senkaimon opened in the front yard and a familiar reiatsu emerged. Expecting him, Kisuke got up and double-checked the stack of supplies that had been ordered then went into the public portion of the shop. There he found Tenth Division Captain Tōshirō Hitsugaya.

“Welcome, Captain Hitsugaya!” Kisuke sang. “I have your order all put together.”

Hitsugaya nodded his head respectfully. “Thank you.”

“You know you can just look at Twelfth's data for this, right?”

“Mm. I've looked at it,” replied the captain. “The cold data doesn't necessarily represent how well my subordinates are handling their assignments. I want to watch them in action from the concealing gigai and see if any would benefit from splitting or consolidating duties.”

“Ah, so responsible,” Urahara cooed.

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes. “Speaking of Twelfth.” He raised an eyebrow and held out his hand. A small USB stick was in his palm. “Twelfth Division's third seat asked me to give this to you. He said it contained information you had requested and to tell you that he has initiated a more thorough investigation, the results of which he will convey to you when available.” He wasn't entirely successful in keeping curiosity off his face.

“Ah, thank you, Captain Hitsugaya,” Kisuke said, taking the storage device from him. “If Akon is digging deeper, this data should be very interesting.” He noticed the cluster of reiatsu he had been monitoring turn toward the shop. “If you'd like to hear what this is about, go ahead and hop in your gigai and I'll brief you. We have a guest coming. I need to question her but I hear she's skittish. If you want to participate, don't be all frowny and intimidating.”

Hitsugaya inclined his head curiously and stepped into the back room. Yoruichi in cat form sauntered between his ankles and made him stumble. Hitsugaya grumbled and kept going.

“Ah, Yoruichi! My favorite kitty-cat!” Kisuke crowed. “Is curiosity killing you?”

The cat rolled her eyes. “You can put it that way, I guess.”

Kisuke grinned. “Want to listen in and be a cute, comforting kitty for the traumatized girl?”

Yoruichi stretched and yawned. “I suppose.”

Homura knew they were near their destination when her skin began to tingle at the close proximity to a great deal of magic. Reiatsu. Whatever. When the Kurosaki siblings turned into a gate, she stopped in her tracks. She was only vaguely aware of Ichigo and Karin bickering with a boy with shockingly red hair.

The quaint little shop made her nervous. As if it housed something that should be monumentally threatening but was currently laying at ease. Strangely, it brought to mind a photo she had once seen of a black leopard lounging in a tree at night— all lithe muscle and killing power wrapped in velvety soft darkness, utterly calm and secure in its ability to fight anything that challenged it, relaxed yet aware. Actually, there were a few distinct magical signatures with that feeling. Maybe this wasn't the smartest thing to do, after all.

Yuzu slipped her hand into Homura's. “They really are nice,” she said. “They can be weird and enthusiastic like Daddy, but they mean well.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “If they go to Mitakihara and figure everything out, maybe we can prove to Kyubey that shinigami are better now.”

Homura swallowed and nodded. She followed the siblings into the courtyard.

A blond man with a goofy face wearing an odd combination of olive green jinbei and a striped bucket hat emerged from the shop. “Welcome, welcome!”

“Yo, Sandal-Hat,” Ichigo said with a lazy wave.

“Come on in!” the eccentric cheered, disappearing into the shop.

Ichigo raised his brows at Homura. “Ready?”

Homura nodded and stepped forward.

Homura followed Ichigo through the shop and into a back room with a table set for tea. A white-haired boy sat at the table wearing a neutral expression. His teal eyes were curious as he peered at them over the lip of his teacup.

“Tōsh!” Karin exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

His eyes slid to Karin. “I'm going to be surveying my subordinates at their posts. Make sure I have them allocated efficiently. Urahara told me about what's going on. I thought I'd listen in.”

Karin smirked. “Aww, what a responsible old man you are. Such a good example for your little ducklings.”

The boy rolled his eyes.

The strange man clapped his hands. “Okay, introductions, introductions!” He turned to face Homura and bowed with a flourish. “I'm Kisuke Urahara, humble proprietor of this little shop.”

Homura wondered why everyone but Yuzu rolled their eyes. Wait— hadn't Karin said something about I am a mere shopkeeper being some kind of red flag? Hmmm.

“This kitty who thinks she's queen of the shop is Yoruichi,” Urahara said, indicating the cat lazing on a cushion in the corner. It looked at Homura and swished its tail. “And this young man is Tōshirō Hitsugaya.”

The boy bowed his head and murmured a greeting. So this was the “highly ranked shinigami” friend the twins had spoken of. Great, now the shinigami command structure would know about her. If they didn't already, that is. Homura wondered if he was in one of the false bodies Karin had mentioned. His magic— reiatsu, reiatsu— was faint but undeniably present and unexpectedly icy.

Ichigo cleared his throat. Homura startled. “Oh. I am Homura Akemi.” She bowed. “I am pleased to meet you.”

“It's nice meeting you, too, Miss Akemi,” Urahara replied. “Come, sit. I hear you have some distressing problems. Let's see what we can figure out about the situation, yes?”

They all sat around the table. Homura sat between Yuzu and Ichigo. Homura's eyes kept sliding to the cat as tea was served. It was watching her intently and Homura could distinctly feel that it had magic— reiatsu. Really, “magic” was so much easier to remember.

“Oh, do you like my cat? She's such a snobby little thing.” The cat growled just loud enough to be heard. Urahara laughed. “She knows when I'm bad-mouthing her.”

Homura looked across the table at Urahara. She paused for a long moment, looking between him and the cat, and wondered if she was being tested. Slowly, she replied, “That is not a cat.”

Several eyebrows were raised.

“You're very perceptive,” the cat said in a deep voice.

Homura blinked in mild surprise, but otherwise just tilted her head curiously. The shinigami gave her odd looks. Ah, a mistake— now they probably wondered why she simply accepted that a cat could speak. She was too used to the talking cat-rabbit-thing that was Kyubey.

“I'm a shinigami like Kisuke and the boys. I have the ability to turn into a cat,” Yoruichi said. She tilted her head. “Do you know about shinigami?”

“Karin and Yuzu explained them to me,” Homura answered calmly. “Can all shinigami turn into cats?”

The prospect worried her. She could be followed without noticing. Maybe. Well, maybe not; Homura could sense the “cat's” magic. That would be a dead giveaway.

Yoruichi laughed. “They wish. No, I'm special.”

Homura stared at the cat. Was that the truth?

Ichigo glanced aside darkly and grumbled something under his breath.

Yoruichi's gold eyes zeroed in on him. “I heard that.”

“Back to the matter at hand,” Urahara interrupted. “I saw you fight those Hollows yesterday.”

“Stalker,” Karin muttered.

“You were quite efficient. May I start by asking how you came by that experience?”

So he was going for big questions right out the gate. Fantastic. Homura looked down and made a show of fidgeting with her teacup while she hurriedly thought through her answer— how to keep it accurate and mostly truthful but vague while weaving together events from varying timelines to make a more solid story. She rifled through everything the twins had told her about reiatsu and Hollows to balance it out. The others patiently waited for her.

Homura took a deep breath and tried to channel the way her former, meek self would have spoken. Something between the old her and new her; soft-spoken, but not too timid. “I suppose it began when I was in the hospital. For my heart condition,” she began hesitantly. “I began to feel like something was watching me. I saw things out of the corner of my eye. I sometimes heard... chains rattling. The doctors said it was ICU delirium, but Karin and Yuzu said it could have been me starting to sense spirits.”

Urahara hummed. “Probably. It could have started with delirium making you more vulnerable to spiritual stimuli and... snowballed from there.”

Some part of Homura relaxed. He was strengthening her story. She spoke a bit more confidently. “It happened more when I started school in Mitakihara. Some of the girls in my class felt... I do not know. Different. Now I know I was sensing their magic.”

“Magic?” asked Hitsugaya.

“That is what we called it,” Homura said as though defensive. “We did not have anyone to explain things to us. We had to figure it out ourselves. I did not know the word reiatsu until I came here and spoke with Karin and Yuzu at length.”

Hitsugaya nodded his understanding.

“So.” Homura paused, considering her words. She thought of the news articles about people seemingly compelled to commit suicide and decided to weave in her experience. “One day when I was on my way home from school I felt... weird. Depressed. When I was crossing a bridge, I felt strange... dreamy... and heard a girl's voice saying I would be better off dead and I should just die. But the voice was in my head. And not my usual... thinking voice. It was not me.”

She glanced up at those gathered around the table. They stared at her, rapt.

“The voice urged you to commit suicide?” Urahara asked.

Homura nodded.

He leaned forward on his elbows, fascination plain on his face. “And what stopped you?”

Homura looked back down at her cup. “I kind of just... woke up. Like when you are very tired and catch yourself as you are falling asleep just before your head hits your desk. But when I woke up, there was a monster.”

“Was the monster a Hollow?” asked Hitsugaya.

Homura fidgeted and shrugged. “I suppose? Everything looked really strange still. I think I was... hallucinating, maybe?”

“Looked weird how?” asked Yoruichi.

“Um... warped? And crooked. The ground was not flat. And the Arc de Triomphe was there, but wrong. And the sky was all twisty red swirls. Like— like Van Gogh's Starry Night, but wrong.” Homura wondered what they would make of that description of her first labyrinth.

Yoruichi glanced at Urahara, who was frowning in thought.

“How did you get away?” Ichigo asked softly.

Homura's hands tightened around her cup. “Mami saved me.” And Madoka, but that wouldn't fit with the rest of her cobbled-together story. “She used her magic... um, reiatsu? She used it to make glowing ribbons to tie things up and shot... blasts of magic at the monsters until they disappeared.”

“Monsters, plural?” Hitsugaya asked with a frown.

“Ah, y-yes,” Homura stammered as she cringed internally. “There were... they looked like scribbled drawings of people on... parchment, maybe. They were... staggering toward me, but Mami lassoed them all before they could reach me. She bound them to the Arc de Triomphe and destroyed them all at once.”

Urahara raised his eyebrows. “That's quite advanced.”

“Mami told me it took her almost two years of practice to get as good as she was.” Not a lie.

“So this has been happening for at least two years,” Hitsugaya observed, eyes keenly watching her.

Having so many sharp eyes trained on her was making Homura's skin crawl with anxiety. Her chest tightened.

Homura nodded. “So Mami took me to her apartment. She explained about how only some girls can see the monsters and that the girls who could see them had magic. She said she thought it was our duty to protect the people who cannot see them.”

“That was quite noble of her,” Urahara said quietly. “Only girls could see these monsters?”

“Yes. But it seems like anyone can get... hypnotized, I suppose... like I was. Even boys and men.”

Urahara sat back and stroked his chin, staring at the ceiling while thinking intensely.

“What happened next?” Ichigo asked.

“Mami taught me how to fight,” Homura answered. “Madoka and Sayaka are— were— in my class. They had magic, too. Mami began to take them with to fights to show them how to use magic. I... did not like that. M-Madoka is— was— a very good friend. I did not want her to fight. I want...ed her to stay safe. But Mami thought I was jealous of Madoka because she has— had more magic than me.”

The shinigami glanced among one another. Homura wondered why that seemed to disturb them so much.

After a pause, Ichigo gently said, “I know this is hard, but... what happened to your friends? Like, in the articles, it seems like something went wrong at the hospital. Can you start there?”

Homura fiddled with her teacup and sipped from it to buy herself time to arrange the gruesome facts in her head. If her hands were genuinely shaking at the memories, so much the better for her performance. When she put her cup down, Yuzu slid her hand into Homura's and squeezed. Ichigo's hand was a reassuringly warm weight on her back. She took a deep breath, thinking of the article about the hospital incident. Even though she had lived through similar events countless times, she found speaking about what had transpired extremely difficult. This was why her modus operandi had become repress, repress, repress.

“Madoka told me that when she and Sayaka left the hospital, they found a monster by the bicycle racks. Sayaka hid and monitored it while Madoka retreated to find Mami. They did not think they could fight it themselves. I sensed the monster and came from another direction. I tried to make Madoka run away to stay safe, but Mami became angry and used her magic ribbons to tie me up. Then Mami fought the monster by herself. She tied it up and shot it but it did not die— a bigger monster came out its mouth a-and bit Mami's h-head off and ate her body.” Homura swallowed hard; she should be used to that memory by now, but wasn't. No matter how she tried, she still always heard the phantom wet crunch of flesh and bone in the Witch's jaws. She hated it. “The ribbons disappeared w-when she died and Madoka and Sayaka were scared so I fought it. I won, but....” She shrugged unhappily.

Everyone was respectfully silent for a minute. Quietly, Urahara said, “My apologies, Miss Akemi. Did the... monster... knock Mami's soul from her body and eat it, or did it eat her body and all?”

“It ate her in her body,” answered Homura. “There was nothing left.”

Urahara, Hitsugaya, and Ichigo looked deeply disturbed.

“This Sayaka and Madoka,” said Yoruichi. “They escaped?”

“Yes,” answered Homura. “Madoka was afraid and did not want to fight. But she saw another girl from our class acting strangely the next day and followed her to the TV station. She stopped the people from hurting themselves, but the hidden monster attacked her. Sayaka was closer and reached her first. She decided to fight since Mami could not anymore. She saved Madoka with her magic.”

“How so?” asked Urahara.

“She used a baseball bat like Karin uses a soccer ball,” Homura explained— lied— smoothly.

Urahara hummed and Hitsugaya nodded.

“The articles said Sayaka became erratic before her disappearance,” said Urahara. “What happened there?”

Homura shifted and frowned. “Sayaka was fighting too much. She was getting worn out and she was upset about some boy. Then Kyōko heard Mami had died and came from Kazamino to fight monsters. She and Sayaka had a... really bad first meeting. So they kept fighting each other, too.”

Urahara frowned. “I don't recall reading about a Kyōko.”

“The articles call her the mystery redhead from Kazamino. She came to Mitakihara about a week into April. Kyōko used to be Mami's partner. She was harsh with Sayaka because she thought Sayaka was not taking things seriously— that she was getting off on playing the hero.”

“Didn't her family report her missing?” asked Ichigo.

“No. They are dead,” Homura bluntly answered. “Kyōko's father was a Western preacher. When he found out about her powers, he thought she was a witch... who had cast a spell on everyone... and tried to kill the whole family in a murder-suicide to escape the spell. But Kyōko survived. She has been on her own ever since.”

Most of those present stared at Homura in horror.

“Her dad— her dad tried to kill her?! Just because she had high reiatsu?!” Karin demanded.

Homura nodded. “He killed her mother and sister, tried to kill Kyōko, set the house on fire, and hanged himself.”

More dumbfounded, disgusted horror all around.

“This... this Kyōko...” Hitsugaya hedged. “Is she still...?”

Homura took a deep breath. “She is dead. And I guess I am the only one who... misses her.”

“Oh. I'm so sorry.”

Everyone sat numbly for a couple minutes. Yuzu sniffled.

“How... how did she...?” Karin tried to ask.

Homura looked down at the table and debated how much detail to go into. She wanted to toss the shinigami a clue, but it could be information shocking to the twins if they didn't know the truth about Witches. At length, she decided the gamble was worth it. If the twins freaked out and botched things past saving, she'd stop time and run like hell. Maybe try a different approach in the next timeline.

“Sayaka became... twitchy. Edgy.” Homura started carefully rotating her teacup in little turns, focusing on the repetitive movement. “Even Kyōko became concerned about her. After Sayaka ran away, Kyōko and I would run into her when we went to fight monsters. She was fighting sloppily and using her magic to make her body stronger so much it obviously tired her, but she refused our help every time. Sayaka acted more and more obsessed and aggressive every time I ran into her. Her magic... even her magic felt darker and heavier. Then the night before I came to Karakura, Kyōko ran into her in the train station. Everything just... fell apart.”

Homura bit her lip and forced herself not to look at the twins. Everyone silently waited for her to continue.

“I do not know what they talked about, but Sayaka... broke. She... Her body fell down and her soul floated up and turned into a monster.”

There was an audible series of gasps around the table. Homura glanced up. Karin and Yuzu were stark white and utterly still. They understood what she was implying.

Witches were fallen magical girls.

They hadn't known.

Homura couldn't stand to look at them. She looked down at her cup and pressed on. “Kyōko did not— did not really understand what happened. I felt it happen. When I got there, Kyōko was running away from the monster, carrying Sayaka's body. We just— just ran away.” She swallowed. “Kyōko took Sayaka to her hotel room. I think she used her own magic to keep Sayaka's body... fresh. She thought she could find the monster and, um, convince it to calm down and turn back into Sayaka.”

Homura looked around at everyone's faces. The shinigami looked like they knew exactly how badly wrong everything would go. Odd.

“I thought Sayaka was a lost cause because of the other monsters we fought and that the only thing we could do for her was put her out of her misery. I said as much. So Kyōko went behind my back to convince Madoka to go with her to try to get through to Sayaka. That is why Madoka did not go to school.” Homura couldn't help the frustrated anger that slipped past her mask. She clenched her fists. Everyone remained silent.

Homura grit her teeth. “I left class when I figured out Madoka was not coming and may have gone after Sayaka... Sayaka's monster. But by the time I found the fight—” Homura closed her eyes. “Sayaka's monster had M-Madoka crushed in its hand and Kyōko... I think Kyōko thought that she would turn into a monster someday, too, so she used all of her magic— she had fiery magic— she used it to take all of them out at the same time. There was nothing left of any of them except Sayaka's body in Kyōko's hotel. They just... burned up in front of me. I did not know what to do, so I just got on a passing train and rode.”

Homura refused to look up in the ensuing dead silence until Yuzu began to cry and cling to her, her magic carrying an undercurrent of fear. When Homura did look up, she found Karin staring at the table with blank, wide eyes, Ichigo and Tōshirō looking pained and angry, and Urahara looking grim. Yoruichi's face was unreadable, but her feline ears were laid back flat against her head.

No one spoke for a long time.

Ichigo was the first to find words. “I'm so— so sorry you had to go through that. Never— you should never have—” He faltered in frustration.

“My condolences, Miss Akemi,” Urahara said gravely.

Homura's face remained stonily blank, but she inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment.

“Forgive me,” he continued, “but I would like to ask one favor of you.”

Ichigo directed a murderous glare at him, silently telling him to back off. Homura appreciated it.

“What?” Homura asked with tired caution. Staying calm and coherent was getting exhausting.

“I don't have any more questions for you right now,” Urahara reassured her. “I have a large map of the Mitakihara metro area. Would you be willing to mark the locations of your fights for us to investigate?”

Homura tilted her head and stared blankly as she thought. She decided she didn't see how it could hurt. “I suppose.”

“I appreciate it, Miss Akemi.” Urahara looked her straight in the eye. “We'll figure this out and put a stop to it.”

Forty minutes later, Kisuke and Yoruichi watched the last of their guests leave. Kisuke sat tapping his folded fan against the table, thinking. Early evening shadows slowly stretched across the floor.

“She's a very good liar for someone so young,” Yoruichi finally commented.

Kisuke hummed. “Very good at stretching the truth. Smart enough to stick to the truth with some adjustments instead of making up falsehoods from whole cloth. The only thing I can definitely pin as changed is the timing of her learning to fight. I'm impressed.”

“Oh?” Yoruichi asked. “I didn't catch that. Do tell.”

“I saw her fight yesterday,” he explained. “That was far more than a month's worth of experience. She's very polished.”

Yoruichi hummed.

“Much of the other stuff rings true, though.” Kisuke looked down at the map of Mitakihara and Homura's neat writing dotting it here and there. “I do think she knows more about these 'monsters' than she's telling us. Quite the interesting puzzle. I need to read Akon's report.”

Yoruichi sniffed. “You're like a dog with a bone now, aren't you?”

Kisuke laughed, gathered the map, and headed for his lab.

Chapter Text

SIEBZEHN

TIMELINE X+N

The walk back to the Kurosaki Clinic was hushed and worried. Homura was afraid she had said too much or said something wrong. The twins were probably afraid of the implications of Homura's information for them. Ichigo seemed worried about all the girls in general and at a frustrated loss. Like he wanted to fight something but didn't know what to lash out at. It was an expression and magical feeling Homura had often encountered with Sayaka and Kyōko when they were about to go off like loose cannons. It put her on edge.

When they got home, the girls seemed to be in a hurry to get upstairs. Ichigo quickly grabbed Homura's shoulder. “Hey.”

Homura turned to him, startled, and half-expected to be yelled at. Was he going to lash out at her for lack of other targets, like Sayaka and Kyōko? She tried to be non-threatening. “Yes, Mr. Ku— um, I-Ichigo?”

Ichigo ruffled her hair with a wan smile. “I know how hard that was. I'm proud of you. You girls go do your... girl things... and try to relax a bit, okay? Urahara will figure it out.” He looked past Homura to his sisters. “Don't worry about cooking tonight, Yuzu. I'll take care of it. You two keep Homura company, okay?”

Yuzu, still pale, nodded silently. Ichigo heaved a deep sigh behind them as they hurried upstairs.

Karin ushered the other girls into their room and shut the door. She leaned back against it and stared into the room. Homura stood in the middle and Yuzu wrung her hands off to one side.

“What— What— What was that?!” Karin demanded. “You made that part up, right? Tell me you made that part up. Please.” She didn't have to explain what part. They all knew.

After a long silence in which Homura forced her face to remain expressionless, Yuzu whimpered, “Please, Homura. Please explain. Did you mean— Did— Did Sayaka turn into a W-witch?”

Homura opened her mouth, paused, and frowned before quietly saying, “Yes.”

Karin looked like she had been stabbed. She sagged against the door. Yuzu's knees wobbled and she plopped down on her bed. Homura's heart twisted.

“Does... does it happen to all magical girls?” Karin nearly whispered.

Homura met her eyes then looked away. She couldn't stand the expression on Karin's face. “Those who are not killed first, yes. Eventually.”

Karin and Yuzu closed their eyes and tried to make sense of the world. Homura remembered the feeling well. At least they didn't find out by witnessing a magical girl's fall.

“How?” Yuzu asked in a small voice. “I don't understand. How?!”

Homura primly sat in a desk chair and smoothed her skirt, trying to project calm for the twins. “You know that when we fight in labyrinths, they taint our Soul Gems, yes? And that we must cleanse them with Grief Seeds?”

“Yeeeah,” Karin said suspiciously.

“This is because if our Gems become too corrupted and we start to slip into despair and insanity, our Gems turn completely black and transform into Grief Seeds. Our souls are reborn as Witches. Then the cycle continues with newly-contracted magical girls who will defeat us and become Witches in turn.”

“I thought that if our Gems got dark it just meant our magic would be weak,” Karin said dully.

“K-kyubey didn't explain any of this!” cried Yuzu.

“Kyubey is a manipulator,” Homura said harshly, face stone cold. “The Incubator race preys upon us. They claim the magical energy they harvest from our souls is used for a good cause, but I do not care. Dishonesty is dishonesty. It claims to have no concept of deceit, but I do not believe it. I did not find out about the Incubator's motives until after I had contracted.” Homura paused for a moment, considering her earlier story. “That is why I did not want Sayaka and Madoka to contract. But no one ever believes me when I warn them. The wish and magic are too attractive.”

Yuzu covered her face with her hands and cried.

Karin slid down to the floor and laughed darkly. “It makes sense. It makes so much sense. I should have seen it. He tore our souls out. Our souls. Of course we'd have a fancy kind of Hollowfication. Of course.” She looked up at Homura with a humorless grin. “We really made a deal with the devil, huh?”

Homura looked down at her lap and didn't disagree.

“H-how long do we have?” Yuzu sniffled.

Homura shrugged and pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “That depends on how often you fight, how clean you keep your Soul Gem, and how rational you can stay. Theoretically, you could go on indefinitely if you take care of your Soul Gem and do not fall to despair. That... does not happen often, though.”

Karin laughed grimly again.

“What— What happens to us when we die? Do we go to Soul Society?” asked Yuzu.

Homura was silent for a long time. “If you mean human death, like getting hit by a car or dying of cancer, that cannot happen to us. As long as our Soul Gems are intact and not overly corrupted, our bodies are invincible. Our magic can overcome any wound or illness. If our Gem is too corrupted when we are grievously wounded, it tries to heal our body but the strain makes it turn into a Grief Seed.” She tilted her head sadly. “We have two possible ends: Transforming into a Witch or complete soul destruction by the shattering of our Soul Gems.”

“That bastard robbed us of our afterlives, too? Fantastic,” rasped Karin. Yuzu just stared at Homura, aghast.

They sat in silence for several minutes as the twins processed everything.

“Okay. Okay. Plans,” Karin said with forced calm. “Priority one is hunting down that goddamn sneaky Witch so we can cleanse our Soul Gems. We've gone too long without.”

Homura looked up curiously. “How long has it been since you cleansed your Soul Gems?”

Karin laughed again. It was getting disturbing. “Probably two months.”

Homura's eyebrows jumped to her hairline. “How have you not—? I mean—”

“How have we not turned?” Karin finished. “Good question. I dunno. Maybe because we don't get new Witches every other day like in Mitakihara? And when we use our powers to fight Hollows without transforming, it doesn't muck up our Gems as quickly as prancing around in a labyrinth.”

Homura frowned. “May I see your Gems?”

Karin got up and crossed the room to sit by Yuzu. Each held out her left hand and materialized the egg-shaped jewel that her soul had been condensed into. Homura slid the desk chair over to look. Both were worryingly murky, but Yuzu's more so than Karin's. Homura frowned and materialized her own Gem next to theirs. Oh, hey, hers was as bad as Yuzu's. They weren't in immediate danger of turning, but their state was concerning. Well, that explained a few things about her instability the last few days— or so she chose to believe. Great. Fun times for everyone.

How the hell was Yuzu so cheerful and put-together with that much corruption? Indomitable optimism?

Briefly, Homura pictured Madoka managing to smile at her in the timeline where the two of them had defeated Walpurgisnacht together and lay near death and final corruption among the ruins of Mitakihara. Madoka had smiled while purifying Homura's Gem even as her own was dark and cracking.

Homura forcibly shoved the memory aside.

“Yeeeah,” Karin drawled. “We need to bag that Witch or we're fucked.”

“Karin!”

“Is this really the time to scold me for cussing, Yuz?”

Homura pursed her lips, then sat back and let her Soul Gem turn back into a ring. She closed her fist and opened it again, summoning the Mermaid Witch's Grief Seed to her hand. The twins startled.

“Holy shit, where did you—?” squawked Karin. “Oh. Oh. You had it before. That's right. Where... oh....” She trailed off and looked pained.

“Is that... is that Sayaka?” Yuzu whispered.

Homura hummed. “It should be good for two uses. Here.” She offered it to the twins.

Both reared back. “What? No, no way,” said Karin. “She was your friend. We can't accept that. Use it yourself.”

Homura really, really had not been Sayaka's friend in this timeline. She had been ready to kill the stubborn girl when she wouldn't see reason and use a damn Grief Seed. Sure, killing her would have ended her suffering before she could turn into a Witch, but Homura had been nothing but a cold-hearted liar with murderous ulterior motives in Sayaka's eyes.

“She would have wanted to be useful and save other magical girls,” Homura said quietly. “That is the kind of magical girl she was. You two use this Grief Seed and I will use the one we get from the Witch you have been hunting.”

Both twins frowned hard. Everyone was quiet for a minute.

Karin darted her eyes between the Gems and the Seed. “Two uses, right? You and Yuzu use it. I'll use the one from the Witch we're gonna... put out of her misery. Yours are darker than mine, anyway.”

Yuzu turned to her sister. “But Karin—”

Karin stared Homura in the eye. “We owe you for telling us about this. It changes things. You've just let us know we can't afford to be careless. You may have put off our deaths. Thanks. So you and Yuzu share.”

Homura stared solemnly at Karin, her respect for the girl increased. Homura touched the Grief Seed to Yuzu's Soul Gem with a little clink. Darkness seeped out of the citrine, leaving it sparkling golden yellow once again in a matter of a few seconds. Yuzu sadly murmured her thanks and cradled the Gem to her chest.

Homura sat back and cleansed her own amethyst Soul Gem. When she was done, she held the Grief Seed out to Karin and gravely said, “Here. There's a little left. Not enough, but it will be better than nothing.”

Karin nodded and held her Gem out. The ruby brightened slightly, but the Grief Seed was spent. Homura tucked it back into storage to sit in stasis until she could do something with it.

After an awkward silence, Karin cleared her throat. “So. Plans. We need to hunt after school every day. Dad let Ichi-nii ditch school all the time, but he knew what was going on. I don't think we'll be able to get away with that.”

Homura tilted her head. “We just....” She trailed off for a moment, then corrected herself to something they would appreciate. “Sayaka just bought us time. You are not in immediate danger. Skipping school should be unnecessary. I will find an excuse to leave the house during school hours and search. If we do not find the Witch by Friday night, then we can leave for Mitakihara the next morning and get a Grief Seed there before Walpurgisnacht appears on Sunday morning.”

Yuzu bit her lip. “If Walpurgisnacht is many Witches put together... that means it's a lot of magical girl souls who fell into despair put together, right?”

“I suppose so.”

Yuzu's face hardened into determination. “We need to free them.”

Homura frowned. “You must know that if we defeat it, it will become a Grief Seed. All we can do with Grief Seeds is give them to the Incubator to be converted into raw energy. Otherwise, they just re-spawn.”

“At least that would end their suffering, though,” Karin said resentfully.

“No,” Yuzu said with a scowl. “We won't give Walpurgisnacht's Grief Seed to Kyubey. The Incubator. Whatever.”

“Eh? What else could we do?” Karin asked while Homura looked confused.

Yuzu sat straight, crossed her arms, and declared, “We give it to Mr. Urahara.”

The other two girls stared.

“What?” asked Homura as Karin grinned and said, “You're a genius.”

Homura looked back and forth between the sisters. “Why?”

Karin smirked. “If anyone can figure out how to help those souls— and ours— it'd be Urahara. He's a nosy troll, but he's brilliant when it comes to everything having to do with souls and spirit stuff.”

Homura frowned. “We still do not know how he and other shinigami will react to magical girls.”

“So we find out,” Karin said breezily. “You were tossing out clues, right? We have a week to see if Urahara's smart enough to figure something out and hightail it if everyone decides to grab the pitchforks and torches. And I doubt it will come to that.”

Homura remained unmoved. “You are far more optimistic than I.”

“No, we believe in Ichi-nii,” Karin asserted.

Yuzu nodded. “Onii-chan won't let the shinigami come after us.”

“And even if they were given orders, a lot of the shinigami command structure really likes Ichi-nii. Like, to the extent that a handful defied orders and deserted to help him on a personal mission during the war and all of them helped him get his powers back. And the fact that Kyu— the Incubator tricks girls into contracts should work in our favor with the current, more reasonable leadership. We're victims. We should be able to redirect any bad reactions toward that little bastard.”

“I bet we could take Sayaka's Grief Seed to Mr. Urahara right now and everything would be fine,” said Yuzu.

Homura grit her teeth and shifted uncomfortably. “You are proposing taking an enormous risk.”

“Can't win big if you don't bet big,” Karin argued with a shrug.

Homura chewed her lip and looked down, thinking. “Perhaps,” she said hesitantly. She looked up at them fiercely. “But I do not want to take that risk until after we fight Walpurgisnacht.” Not a lie. She wanted to see where everyone's cards fell in this timeline before approaching— or not approaching— them in the next.

“That's reasonable,” said Yuzu with a satisfied nod. “We just have to hang in there for a week, right?”

Homura nodded agreement.

One week. Game on.

Ichigo went into the kitchen and went through the motions of preparing dinner on autopilot, mind spinning.

No wonder Homura was traumatized.

There were some little things that niggled as not quite adding up, but he couldn't pin down why he felt that way. And he still didn't know what kind of powers the girl had. He wondered what other details she had glossed over that would explain how close to the vest she played her cards.

What worried him the most was her calm as she had said, “I thought Sayaka was a lost cause... and that the only thing we could do for her was put her out of her misery.”

Lost cause. Put her out of her misery. Brr.

In that moment, there had been something distinctly weary and not-childlike in her face. Something distant and bleak. He could see it even in profile. In that moment, she had seemed much older than she appeared. It was disturbing.

Ichigo wanted to introduce whatever had beaten her down like that to Zangetsu. Have a... chat. With lots of stabbing and explosions.

Isshin wandered into the kitchen and leaned against the doorway to watch his agitated son cook. Ichigo noticed him but kept working, darkly itemizing a list of little things Homura had said that earned whatever mysterious enemy was out there an extra Getsuga Tenshō to the face.

When Ichigo reached a point where he had nothing to do but stand and wait while things cooked, Isshin spoke up. “That bad, huh?”

Ichigo turned to his father. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, too angry to actually speak coherently. He covered his face and forced himself to calm. Through grit teeth, he ground out, “On top of everything she already told me, she saw that Sayaka girl's soul Hollowfy and the unidentified redhead from the articles use all her fire-type reiatsu to burn the Hollow and herself out of existence even though the Hollow used to be her friend. And the reason the redhead hasn't been reported missing is her father found out about her powers a while back, decided she was a witch, and tried to fucking kill his whole family to escape some kind of imaginary curse. So of course the poor girl with powers was the only survivor and there's no one to miss her but Homura. Of course. I don't fucking understand people sometimes. I really don't.”

Isshin sighed heavily and sat in a chair. “Unfortunately, those with powers are so alien to the general population that I don't think the fear response will ever be wiped out. It's hard to handle when you come across violence because of powers. Poor kid.” He cocked his head. “Did Homura say what her name was?”

“Kyōko.”

Isshin hummed and nodded. “A good name. Kyōko. I'll have to look at the pictures of her again, memorize her face. A girl brave enough to face a friend-turned-Hollow and go down in flames after a life like that... she deserves to be remembered by more than just Homura. Sounds like she'd make one hell of a shinigami someday.”

“Yeah,” Ichigo said, downcast.

“I'll get the rest of the details from Kisuke, son,” Isshin said tiredly. “We'll just have to keep the girls happy tonight.”

“Uhhhhh. About that,” said Ichigo.

Isshin raised his brows.

“Karin and Yuzu took Homura's story hard. Like, really hard. Pale and scared hard. Hearing what happened to some girls with powers like they do... I think it shook them.”

Isshin closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Thanks for the heads up. We'll just have to do our best.”

“Mm.”

The first thing Kisuke did was transcribe the meeting, which he had recorded, and scan the map Homura had annotated to send it all to Akon for independent evaluation.

The second thing he did was actually study the map. Akemi's tiny handwriting labeled multiple points with things like “Mami saves Madoka & Sayaka,” “Mami, Sayaka, Madoka save woman,” “Mami dies,” “Madoka saves group, Sayaka saves Madoka,” and so on with dates. Most recent and most interesting were the labels on the train station (“Sayaka turns/dies”) and a lot across from the station (“Kyōko & Madoka die”). Everything was exceptionally neat except for the words “Madoka die.” Kisuke inferred that Madoka was the person Akemi was closest to. That her hand would shake for her and not the others implied a deep bond. Strange, for only having known her a month. Unless that was a lie. Something was off with Akemi's timing, so that could be part of it. What was most curious about the map was that all of Akemi's marks were within Mitakihara proper. She hadn't labeled anything in Kazamino, Asunaro, or Shinchi. Either she was lying by omission or there were independent pockets of disturbances she didn't know about.

Next, he researched the story Akemi had told about the ill-fated Kyōko. It took some digging without a family name, but he eventually found a series of articles about the Sakura family murder-suicide with arson. It was a tragic family history— all four nearly starving when the father was ejected by the church for preaching contrary to doctrine, the turning of the family's fortunes with a sudden surge of believers helping the man build his own church and congregation, followed by an equally sudden descent into alcoholism featuring public rants that his eldest daughter was a witch who had cursed his family and enchanted the congregation. As Akemi had said, it had culminated in the father attacking his family, setting the house on fire, and hanging himself. A follow-up article mentioned that when Kyōko Sakura was released from the hospital into foster care, she immediately ran away. He looked up the missing persons casefile and found it still open. So that part had all been true, unfortunately.

Third, he took a break from the material from the interview so he could look at it with fresh eyes later. Instead, Kisuke devoured the data Akon had sent him. It was almost exactly the opposite of what he had expected. Fascinating. He loved when that happened. Kisuke decided to set it aside and wait until the field investigation could corroborate the information.

After dinner, Kisuke watched the video of the interview over and over and over, taking notes. Places where the girl had paused and changed her words. Places where she avoided everyone's eyes. Things she had said that didn't quite match up with each other. Things that stuck out as interesting. What had been said— and especially what had been left unsaid.

Akemi never gave an actual description of a monster. When directly questioned, she hedged on whether or not it was a Hollow, choosing to instead focus on her surroundings. Then she didn't mention further hallucinations with other monsters. The closest to a physical description of a monster was that the monster that had killed Tomoe had done so by way of a larger entity emerging from its mouth. That was curious in and of itself.

Her description of waking from the suicidal compulsion sounded a lot like when a disorienting kidō was cast on someone strong enough to shake it off, though. That was interesting, especially combined with hallucinatory visuals. An area-effect kidō trap of some kind, or a Hollow-like approximation of one? It would make sense— Akemi, reiatsu strong enough to resist a spell, came to her senses, but others with low or no reiatsu would be ensnared beyond return without outside help. Which sounded like what the girls in the area were trying to be. Interesting. Actually, a soul forcibly overcoming such a spell could act as a catalyst to accelerate spiritual maturation, which would explain the girl's rapid acceleration from seeing things out of the corner of her eyes to total visibility and ability to fight. Was that what was happening with some of the other girls?

Kisuke felt like two huge clues lay hidden in the purported facts that only girls could see the monsters— supported by the forum posts one commenter had summed up with “Whys it always a girl helps the suicidals?”— and that the monsters ate the physical body as well as the spiritual. Yet there were some bodies left behind. Unsure what to make of it yet, he noted it and scribbled a bunch of question marks and stars around it. Something important was there. He could feel it.

What was most disturbing was Akemi's description of Sayaka Miki's decline. It sounded like she had begun to Hollowfy while still alive, which should not be possible with an intact Chain of Fate. Which begged the question: Had her Chain of Fate been intact? Then there was the fact that Akemi had been so careful in how she phrased Miki's fall. She looked as though she gave a great deal of thought before deciding to say anything. That strongly implied she was hiding something about Miki. But what? He scribbled more question marks and stars.

Then there was Akemi's choice of words when talking about Miki. “Lost cause” and “put her out of her misery.” It was strange for a fourteen-year-old to have the logical objectivity to make that kind of call— to completely write off the possibility of recovering her friend. Kisuke had known shinigami who didn't acquire that detachment until they had decades of experience. Seeing it in such a young girl was chilling. It was like something had gutted the girl's youthful optimism and left a veteran shinigami behind.

That... That could be important. Kisuke chewed on his pen and stared at the ceiling.

Akemi definitely had more experience wielding her reiatsu than she was claiming. The passive scan he had performed on her showed even distribution and regulation implying conscious control. That took time to accomplish so flawlessly, especially while as stressed as she seemed to be. There had been Hollow-like reiatsu tainting her own, but the scan was inconclusive on the question of whether it came from her or was residue of an attack. Whichever it was, it was dormant beneath the majority of her reiatsu. Considering the tale of Sayaka Miki, he was worried.

And why had Akemi looked something between ashamed and apprehensive when she looked at the Kurosaki girls after saying that Sayaka had turned? Actually, why had all three girls looked like they were having a completely separate conversation in that moment? Kisuke took a second to mourn that the Kurosaki girls weren't open books like their brother. When they wanted to, each was capable of using her known personality as a mask to hide what she really—

Wait.

He looped the video of Akemi telling the story again. Watched the Kurosaki girls closely when she said Sayaka's soul had turned into a monster.

Terror.

While everyone was focused on Akemi, they had met one another's eyes with a lightning-quick glance of sheer terror, looking like each had figured something out. They immediately looked away from each other and visibly tried to control their facial expressions. Akemi had looked at them apprehensively; when she saw their faces, she avoided their eyes. But she had focused completely on the girls, as though speaking to them instead of her interviewers.

What subtext had the Kurosaki girls picked up on that no one else was privy to? And why hadn't they said anything?

Kisuke's mind raced. He kept circling back to the information possibly being a revelation of a threat to them. After a moment of thought, he reluctantly pulled up the results of the scan he had performed. Its scope had recorded everyone in the room, but he had only looked at Akemi's results. It had been about a year since he had reason to scan the twins. Click, click, click, he was looking at the scans of all three girls side-by-side.

Well.

The Kurosaki girls were shot through with the Hollow-like reiatsu, too.

Kisuke scrubbed his hands over his face. This... complicated things. To say the least.

Dinner at the Kurosaki household had been awkward and stilted, the girls solemn in the face of Isshin's increasingly ridiculous attempts to entertain them. Ichigo finally distracted them by grasping at straws and asking if the girls had done their homework. The ensuing panic had looked like normal academic desperation, but hid the girls' determination to not get detention in the coming week so they'd have time to hunt. Even Homura got involved, helping them with a couple assignments because her own school was a bit ahead of theirs. Crisis averted, the Kurosaki men breathed a sigh of relief.

Homura woke on Monday morning to a shout in the room next door, followed by a window slamming shut and a scream outside. She sat up rapidly, ready for a fight—

“Homura. Manly morning ritual. Chill,” Karin droned from her bed.

Yuzu drowsily sat up. “Wait. Why is Onii-chan still here?” When Homura raised an eyebrow at her, she clarified, “He's supposed to go to the dorms on Sunday night so he's there for his Monday morning class.”

Karin stretched lazily. “We'll have to ask.”

They asked him at breakfast. Ichigo froze and looked like a deer in headlights. “Uh... I got an e-mail saying that my morning class was canceled, so... yeah....”

Karin rolled her eyes. “You suck at lying, Ichi-nii.”

“You shouldn't skip classes, especially this early in the school year!” scolded Yuzu.

Ichigo shrugged and looked away. Instead, he offered to walk them to school on his way to the train station. Homura wondered if he had stayed out of concern for his sisters.

“Excuse me,” Homura said politely. “Is there a library on the way? I did not bring my textbooks, but I want to study so I do not fall behind my class.”

Ichigo looked surprised. “Oh, uh, yeah. If you come with I'll point you down the right street. Will you be able to find your way back here?”

Homura nodded. “I will put the address in my phone. And the clinic phone number in case I still cannot get back without help.”

“Sounds cool,” Ichigo said agreeably. “You okay with that, old man?”

Isshin scrutinized Homura. “Are you sure you're okay being alone? After everything that happened....”

Homura tilted her head. “Have there been deaths and disappearances here?”

“Not that I know of.”

Homura shrugged. “I should be fine, then.”

Isshin dragged one hand down his face in blatant exasperation. “Let me write a note for you to carry in case a cop stops you for truancy or something. And I'll give you my library card.”

Half an hour later, Homura and Ichigo parted ways with the twins and turned toward the train station. They walked in companionable silence until they reached the library.

“Hey, Homura.”

“Yes?”

Ichigo pulled out his phone. “Tell me your number. I'll text you and you can save mine. I want you to call me if you run into something you can't handle.”

Homura blinked up at him. “But you go to school an hour away.”

“There are closer people I can call, plus I have ways of traveling quickly. Actually, wait, I'll text you Urahara's number, too. Call him first— he's closer. You can still call me if you need help, or... or if you want to talk or something.” Ichigo scratched his neck and looked embarrassed. “I dunno if I'll really be able to help you, but I can always listen, yeah? Oh, and if the old man gets too ridiculous, call or text me and I'll handle it.”

A few minutes later, Homura watched Ichigo as he walked away. He turned and waved lazily as he went around a corner. Karin and Yuzu had told her Ichigo was the best big brother ever. She could see why they said it now.

Homura spent the morning in the library, but not going over school subjects. Instead, she studied Karakura itself with its many oddities in recent years and checked the news from Mitakihara. Evidently there was a furor over another girl going missing overnight, this time just inside Shinchi. Something about a third-year high school girl who had leadership positions in both band and orchestra. Homura had never noticed that before. She hadn't cared about the news in previous timelines, though. If the missing girl was a magical girl, she had to be a ferociously tenacious one. Living to start third year of high school was something Homura believed was nearly impossible once contracted. That was positively ancient for a magical girl.

Homura returned to the clinic in time for lunch, figuring Isshin was the type to come hunting for her if she didn't show up. After lunch, she made a show of reading a library book about literature at the front desk of the clinic until the girls came home. The girls put away their school bags and absconded with Homura, telling their father they needed to have some fun. The girls led Homura to the train station.

“This Witch has a thing for trains,” Karin explained.

“We've only ever found it... her and her Familiars by train tracks,” Yuzu added.

Karin's eyes unfocused and she tilted her head around. Homura realized she was casting about with her magic the way Homura sought magical girls in Mitakihara. After a minute, Karin announced, “Urahara's crew are all at the shop. Goat-Face is in the clinic. Afro-Man is way to the northeast, probably beyond the high school. We're clear.”

The hunt was on.

Chapter Text

ACHTZEHN

TIMELINE X+N

The map and transcript Urahara had sent to Akon delayed Rin's departure to nearly noon on Monday due to adjustments in research sites and arrangements for escorts. Not wanting to raise any alarm, Akon approached the captain of the Thirteenth Division to request a pair of unseated officers who were good but needed more experience in the World of the Living to escort a scientist conducting an experiment. Captain Ukitake had cordially agreed, smiling though his eyes were sharp. He may as well have said, “I'll cooperate, but you had better not be throwing my subordinates into the lions' den. Or else.” As always, Akon wondered how the most senior captains in the Thirteen Court Guard Divisions managed to so casually project threats wrapped in good cheer.

Rin emerged from a senkaimon flanked by two young shinigami, Shino and Ryūnosuke. All three stood in the air and appreciated the bird's-eye view of the city.

“It's so pretty!” Shino said in surprise. She shaded her eyes and looked around. “I've never seen buildings like that!”

Rin smiled. “I'll take some pictures between tests. I wonder what all those glass towers will look like when they're lit up at night?”

Ryūnosuke craned his neck to take in the city. “Ehhhhhh? This city is bigger than I thought it was. The mission brief said it's classified as Level—”

Rin laughed loudly and awkwardly. “We'd better get to work!” He looked down. They had emerged from the senkaimon just above the train station in the central part of town. He pointed down at it. “The first test site is there, then we'll cross the tracks to that construction site over there.”

“What are we even doing, Department Head Tsubokura?” asked Shino. “The brief just said we're escorting you.”

“Ah, just call me Rin. It's easier,” Rin said while waving his free hand. The other was holding a huge bundle slung over his back. “And I'm taking some readings from the sites of some disturbances for further study.”

“What kind of disturbances?” Ryūnosuke asked curiously.

“Ah, it would take too long to explain. Come on, let's go.”

They landed on the platform unnoticed. Rin set the bundle down, rummaged, and took out something that looked like a big snail mounted in a metallic dowsing rod. The snail had a single antenna, upon which was a spinning radial.

“What the hell is that?” asked Shino while Ryūnosuke cringed away.

“Just a sensor. Please excuse me while I work,” answered Rin.

The two escorts were soon bored as Rin wandered around, casting about the building unseen by the lunchtime commuters. When he reached a bench on the far platform, he frowned at his snail-thing and returned to his bundle to fetch a bulky thing that looked like a giant slug with three eyes and another radial. Also, it had claws. Big claws. Rin carried it over to the bench and carefully set it down. It promptly began spewing paper, its claws acting like the recording pens of a seismograph. Whatever it was doing apparently fascinated Rin, but the two escorts didn't understand a jot of it. They stayed there for well over an hour before Rin packed up the giant slug, retrieved the dowsing snail, shoved the bundle at Ryūnosuke, and wandered across the tracks while looking at his handheld sensor. The construction site across the way began boring as the workers were lounging around or gone for lunch. So of course Rin spent a good hour wandering around the place, then another hour with the big sensor on a particular catwalk. At least the workers were back to doing interesting things to watch by then.

Around three that afternoon, Rin stood straight and stretched. “All right, two down, thirty-seven to go!”

Shino and Ryūnosuke shared a glance. This was going to be a loooooooong mission.

High on a construction crane, a white creature watched the shinigami with expressionless red eyes as its fluffy tail swished in the shadows inside the support frame.

Karin, Yuzu, and Homura returned to the clinic after an afternoon spent fruitlessly wandering in the areas near the railroad tracks. Whatever Witch was out there, it was very good at hiding. While Yuzu cooked dinner and Karin vented her frustration on video game enemies, Homura pulled up articles about trains on her phone. Her hope was that something she read would spark an idea of where to look. She had wanted to go hunting at night like she did in Mitakihara, but the twins had indicated that would be a last-ditch tactic because their father might sense them moving around town. If not him, then the people at Urahara Shop. It left a sour taste in her mouth but Homura supposed potential allies were worth some patience. And really, she hadn't realized how constantly exhausted she had been until she slowed down this weekend. It seemed fitting that she would go into what would potentially be her most promising timeline well-rested and renewed.

Monday night passed much like Sunday night had, and Tuesday in turn passed much like Monday. Until that afternoon, when the girls found a labyrinth.

They were walking in an alley between a grocery store and the train tracks when their Soul Gems suddenly glowed. They continued cautiously until they found the orange pumpkin/clock sigil that had appeared in the train station. As the girls walked through, the alley abruptly disappeared and was replaced by the demented subway station full of clocks Homura had found when she first arrived in Karakura. Again, it didn't have the heavy sense of presence a true labyrinth held.

“Another damn Familiar,” Karin complained.

Yuzu sighed. “We can't afford to let it mature into a duplicate of this Witch. We need to kill it.”

Homura stepped forward. “Karin, only transform if it is absolutely necessary. Minimize the risk to your Soul Gem and save it for fighting the Witch.”

“Got it,” Karin agreed unhappily.

Homura and Yuzu held up their Soul Gems and let their power loose, clothes transforming into their battle costumes. Homura drew a handgun from her shield and Yuzu summoned her whip. Her face went cold and focused. “Let's make this quick.”

They navigated the winding maze of subway tunnels by the violet light of Homura's Soul Gem. Homura found the labyrinth unusually complex for a mere Familiar. Whenever they actually found the Witch, it was sure to be a pain to fight. They were just getting sick of the reverberating ticking of the countless clocks when they emerged into a subway station like the one they had fought in the week before. Mismatched clocks on the walls, mechanical wreckage all over the ground, and a bizarre turnip-headed scarecrow dressed as a train conductor spinning around on its pole on the platform as though dancing. They stood and stared at it for a minute.

“We can do this quickly,” Homura said calmly. “Yuzu, restrain it. I will shoot.”

Yuzu nodded firmly and jogged away. Karin stayed just out of sight, face and body language awkward. Homura stalked around the platform, gun held down but at the ready. The two fighters made eye contact. Yuzu lashed out with her whip and ensnared the Familiar, crushing the scarecrow's fairy wings with the golden cord. The turnip blew on its whistle, creating an ear-splitting shriek of—

Click. Time stopped.

Yuzu was frozen mid-wince. Karin was a statue covering her ears. Homura positioned herself so neither sister would be caught in friendly fire and methodically emptied the Beretta's entire magazine toward the Familiar, bullets freezing in midair split seconds after she fired them. Satisfied, Homura remained in firing position and allowed time to resume its flow.

All fifteen bullets impacted the turnip head at the same time, causing it to explode.

Homura tucked the gun away and released her transformation before the labyrinth could disintegrate. Yuzu followed suit out of habit, still in shock. When they reappeared in the alley, Karin, who had been gaping, squawked, “How the hell did you do that?! I didn't even see you move!”

Homura elegantly tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Practice,” she said coolly.

“How many Witches have you fucking fought?!”

Yuzu looked scandalized. “Karin!”

“Too many,” answered Homura.

“We need to get home,” Yuzu interrupted before Karin could escalate. “I need to start dinner.”

Karin huffed but immediately fell into step beside her sister. Homura followed.

“You need to teach me how to move that fast, goddamn.”

“Karin!”

“I believe you would call it a trade secret,” Homura smoothly replied.

Karin barked out a laugh. “I like you.”

Though she didn't show it, Homura found herself pleased.

Kisuke was absently keeping track of the three girls wandering around town while cataloging the various relevant stories he was finding on supernatural message boards into a spreadsheet when their reiatsu suddenly disappeared. He sat straight and cast about more thoroughly. Gone. His pen dropped from his mouth as he stood quickly. A passing thought struck him; he grabbed a reiatsu-concealing cloak and donned it as he leapt out of the shop toward the last place he had sensed the girls.

Sensing from a distance while distracted was imprecise. The best Kisuke could do was figure they had been in the general area of a train crossing. His phone jangled loudly in his pocket. Isshin. Kisuke whipped it up to his face, barked, “I'm on it, wait for intel,” and hung up.

He cast about for the girls' reiatsu again. Nothing. He looked around a radius of about a block. Nothing. So he perched on a building, rummaged in his pockets, and pulled out something that looked like a small tablet. Its function was similar to the dowsing snail Twelfth Division used, but more portable. Kisuke cast about for anything unusual.

Using the sensor, he found an anomaly near a grocery store. He reached out his senses. It was as if there was a slight weakness in the fabric of reality. How curious. He'd never felt anything quite like it before. Similar to a Garganta, yet not. After hopping over to a building behind the grocery, Kisuke squinted and saw something like a faint heat haze. He hadn't had much time to look at it when suddenly the air rippled and the three girls appeared out of nothing. The visual distortion immediately disappeared.

Kisuke stayed back and frowned in thought as the girls chattered and left. A few minutes after they were out of sight, he hopped down to the alley behind the grocery and approached the source of the distortion. He took readings as quickly as he could. From this close he could sense the faintest of Hollow-like residue. It was slight enough that Kisuke never would have noticed it in this Hollow-infested town if he hadn't been specifically looking for something in that exact place.

Fascinating.

Really, what had the Kurosaki girls gotten themselves into?

“Have we done something wrong?” Shino asked rhetorically from her perch on a burnt-out restaurant in southern Kazamino City. “Is Captain Ukitake punishing us? Because this feels like punishment. Death by boredom. There isn't even anything to fight here. I haven't sensed a single Hollow. Why does this guy even need an escort?”

Ryūnosuke scratched his temple nervously. “At least it's an easy mission.”

“Boring. Easy is boring.”

“Um... at least it's almost dark? We'll get to see Mitakihara all lit up again.”

Shino sighed dreamily. If nothing else, the mission was worth seeing the center of the human city lit up like a sparkling fairy kingdom at night. All those fanciful glass towers with their multicolored lights were visually dazzling. There was nothing of the like in Soul Society.

“Hey, guys!” Rin called up from an empty lot behind the automotive repair shop next door. “I'm ready to move on!”

Shino stretched. “Thank God. At least these Kazamino stops have been shorter than the Mitakihara ones. C'mon.”

Both escorts jumped down to the scientist. Rin was looking at a map, first checking off a small circle representing their location, then tracing his finger to the southeast and stopping on the next marker.

“Okay, we're going to the coast, here, in Shinchi. We'll spend the night there, then swing back to the west to the border of Shinchi and Mitakihara.” Rin folded the map and collected his things.

“The coast?” asked Shino. Her eyes sparkled and she held her hands to her cheeks. “I've never seen the ocean before! Ooh, I'll be able to watch the sun rise over the sea!”

Ryūnosuke glanced aside and wryly muttered, “You say this mission is boring, but you keep acting like a tourist on vacation.”

Shino promptly punched her friend in the face.

Glowing red eyes watched the shinigami's antics from the shadows under a car parked behind the mechanic's shop.

Isshin sat at the kitchen table and drummed his fingers on its surface, forcing himself to remain seated instead of charging out the door to hunt down the girls. He had been paying more attention to their reiatsu signatures and noticed them blip out of existence for fifteen minutes.

Fifteen. Entire. Minutes.

A quarter of an hour.

An eternity.

His restraint had been sorely tested. Only Kisuke's words held him back. Wait for intel became his mantra. Isshin strained his senses and waited for... anything. Anything. Wait for intel. Any time now. Wait for intel.

Isshin drew a shuddering breath when the girls' reiatsu blinked back into existence. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes in relief. The trio moved nearer to him; he realized they were coming home and set about calming himself. The call that came from Kisuke helped. Mostly.

“They're safe,” Kisuke said.

“You don't sound sure of that, Kisuke,” Isshin said doubtfully.

“They're unharmed and in good spirits,” his friend clarified.

“And?” Isshin prompted.

“Annnnnd I don't understand what I saw. Yet.”

Ominous. But they could deal with that later. His girls were almost home.

Isshin thought he had done a pretty good job of looking normal until the girls came into the room and reacted to whatever his face looked like with fleeting trepidation before smoothing their expressions.

It absolutely did not help that all three of them had wisps of that Hollow-like reiatsu coming off them. Not visibly, but Isshin sensed it. An epiphany struck him: Karin and Yuzu knew much more than they were letting on. Were much more involved than they had said.

And didn't trust him enough to tell him. It made him ill.

Isshin couldn't help but glance at the portrait of his late wife and wonder, Masaki, would they have told you about... this?

“What's with you, Goat-Face?” Karin drawled.

Isshin frowned. “Did anything happen while you were out? I mean... you were gone longer than I thought you would be.” He managed to not wince at his own clumsiness. Somehow.

“Ha? We stay out this late a lot. The sun isn't even down.”

“Yeah, Daddy,” added Yuzu. “We were just walking around with Homura.”

Isshin directed a level stare at each of the girls in turn, desperately trying to see through them. They didn't crack. His Parental Interrogation Gaze had no effect on them. He gave up and forced his face to imitate manic cheer. “If you say so!”

The sisters glanced at each other. Great. They knew he knew something. Fabulous. So much for playing dumb.

Homura broke the tension by asking if Yuzu needed any help preparing dinner. Yuzu looked devious and got all three of her “assistants” plopped down at the table dicing vegetables and peeling carrots before they knew what was happening.

Isshin was bantering good-naturedly with Karin when Yuzu gasped, “Oh! Homura! I forgot to tell you! I washed your uniform. It's such a pretty uniform!”

“Ah. Thank you,” Homura said politely. A moment later, she said, “Oh,” with mild surprise.

Isshin glanced up from his half-chopped daikon, back to the daikon, and snapped back to Homura when his mind processed what he had seen. The girl's paring knife was embedded in the base of her left thumb. Deeply.

He stood sharply, immediately activating doctor mode. “Yuzu! Clean towel!” Yuzu dug in a drawer as Isshin ordered, “Homura, don't take out—”

Homura removed the knife. The wound bled profusely.

“—The knife. Ahhhhhhhh, nooo—”

“It is not serious,” Homura tried to calm him.

“That had to have hit bone... severed a tendon? Ah, you're going to need stitches—” Isshin grabbed the towel from Yuzu and wrapped it around Homura's hand. She blinked up at him, entirely too calm for someone who had nearly severed her thumb at the lowest knuckle. Why wasn't she screaming or crying?

“That will not be necessary,” Homura demurred. As if he had offered her surgical dressing for a paper cut. As if any treatment would be more of an inconvenience than the wound itself.

“No arguing. To the clinic!”

Homura sighed, held the towel and followed him. Isshin felt her reiatsu rise and do... something. He threw a strange glance at her over his shoulder as they went down the hall. What was that? What was she doing?

Once in an exam room, Isshin prepared sutures and first aid supplies, cleaned the wound, and found... a slice. Not even a serious one. More like a long, deep paper cut. He blinked.

That couldn't be right.

“I told you it is not serious,” Homura said quietly.

“But—” Isshin frowned in confusion. He had seen how deep the knife was before Homura removed it. “But... so much blood....”

“Sometimes shallow wounds bleed the most, correct?”

Isshin looked up into Homura's eyes. She was completely placid, showing no signs of pain or panic. For a moment, her stare felt like the obligatory patience an adult showed a small child who was disagreeing because they didn't understand something. Like she was waiting for him to catch up with her.

“Uh... yeeeah,” Isshin agreed, face baffled. “Let me just... get the butterfly bandages.”

When he was done dressing the wound, Homura thanked him politely and strode from the clinic with the dignity of a queen.

What the hell.

That wound should have been bone-deep and done damage to the tendon. It also should have been extremely painful. Was her calm due to shock? He didn't think so. All he could think of was how Homura had raised her reiatsu for the duration of the walk to the clinic. What had she been doing? How had the wound clos—

Healing herself. She had been healing herself.

That was an advanced technique that stymied many shinigami, and this fourteen-year-old girl just casually did it without looking at the wound? And she had no visible reaction to the pain when he doused the wound in disinfectant. Even his battle-hardened son would snarl when his wounds were disinfected. It was if she had no pain reaction at all. The only sound she had made was mild surprise.

What the hell.

Tuesday night passed into Wednesday morning. Kisuke was once again absently tracking the three girls, factoring Isshin's call about Homura's apparent healing skills into his dossier on her, when he sensed her move away from the library well before lunch. Curious what she was up to and short on new information, Kisuke grabbed the reiatsu-concealing cloak, wrapped himself in an illusory kidō, and skipped across the rooftops to find her.

Kisuke found Homura about two blocks from the train station. He stood on a tall building and watched as she paced the sidewalk for the length of a city block, turned toward the tracks, went back the way she came alongside the actual tracks, then exited at the beginning of the city block on the opposite side of the tracks. She then repeated the pattern, zigzagging her way down the railway corridor. It was quite obviously a search pattern. What was she looking for? Another disturbance? And what was she holding in her hand and watching like a compass?

Frowning, Kisuke hopped buildings to get closer and pulled out binoculars. Cupped in the girl's left hand was an egg-shaped amethyst set in a golden cup-like stand that conformed to the egg shape of the gem. The gold was embellished with decorative filigree and a small, diamond-shaped amethyst was attached to the crown of the large gem. It somewhat reminded him of a Fabergé egg. The girl maintained a steady pace, completely absorbed in staring at the jewel. Was it some kind of sensor? Crystals were terribly useful for such things, after all.

Kisuke followed her along the train tracks for over an hour. She followed the rails into the next city over, but didn't get very far before a store owner putting out the trash in an alley facing the tracks spotted her.

“Hey, kid! The hell are ya doing in there?! Ya got a death wish?!”

Homura looked up and just blinked at him, face disinterested.

“Aren't ya supposed to be in school?!”

Homura ignored him and started walking again.

“Hey, brat! I'm talkin' to ya!”

The girl's mouth turned down into an irritated frown.

“I got a cop buddy out front who's gonna wanna talk to ya! Hey, brat! C'mere before I call the cops on ya for truancy!” The man leaned in the back door of the store and hollered, “Heeey, Mataro! There's some brat walking the tracks!”

Kisuke almost missed what happened next. Homura glared at the man's back and pursed her lips disdainfully. The gem flared with violet light and disappeared as she called up her reiatsu in a tightly-controlled manner, manifesting a round, silver buckler on the wrist of the hand that had been carrying the gem. Just as he thought she might attack, she disappeared. There one instant, gone the next. Kisuke cast about for her. After reaching far, he found her... almost back to the train station, veering south toward Kurosaki Clinic?

How?

Because that had not been shunpo. Or any flash step technique that he knew of, shinigami, Quincy, Arrancar, or Fullbringer. With those, his decades sparring with Yoruichi had won him the hard-earned skill of being able to detect the path the quarry took while in motion between Point A and Point B even if he couldn't see it. It was an automatic thing for him now. But there was no trace of whatever path Homura took. She had just blinked out of existence and appeared elsewhere.

Kisuke frowned and turned back toward Karakura. He'd be gleeful over the riddle this girl posed if the Kurosaki girls weren't somehow tangled up in it as well.

Wednesday afternoon found the shinigami research mission just inside Mitakihara, about a mile north of Shinchi and a few blocks south of Mitakihara Middle School. Rin set up the large slug sensor on the flat roof of a tall office building and was soon completely absorbed in his work. Shino and Ryūnosuke perched atop the roof access shack. Trying to stave off boredom, they began playing a game of I Spy while taking in the view and watching for enemies.

Forty minutes later, both escorts shivered.

“You feel that?” Shino asked, looking around.

“Yeah,” Ryūnosuke answered, frowning. “What was that?” He turned toward the scientist. “Hey, Rin, did you—? Eh?”

Shino turned to look. “Hey, Rin! What was that?”

Rin stood with his back to them, head tilted back slightly as though looking at the sky. The creepy device at his feet had stopped printing. He showed no sign of having heard them.

Shino cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “Heeeeeeeeeeey!”

No reaction.

Frowning, Shino scoffed and hopped down to Rin's level. Ryūnosuke followed her. As they approached the scientist, both noticed their vision blur and felt disoriented.

Shino marched up to Rin. “Hey!” She stood in front of him and waved her arms. “Helloooooo?”

No response. Rin stared blankly into space, eyes unfocused.

Ryūnosuke joined her, worried. “Is something wrong with him?”

Shino squinted at the scientist. “Hey, what's on his neck?” She reached out for the blurry patch of pink.

Both escorts shuddered, a chill running up their spines.

A smug girl's voice airily said, He's joining my marching band. You should, too. We can play music forever!

Ryūnosuke swayed, dizzy and confused. “But... I don't know how to play anything....”

That's fine! If you join me, you'll learn in no time!

“But...”

Shino blinked hard and shook her head. “What—?” She repeated the action. “Ryūnosuke, snap out of it!”

Ryūnosuke blinked at her dreamily. “Shino...?”

I'll teach you how to play your own funeral march!

“Wake up, idiot!” With that, Shino hauled off and punched him, then drew her blade.

Ryūnosuke stumbled then straightened, holding his cheek. He looked more coherent. “W-what's going on?”

Eerie girlish laughter and the rattling of a snare drum keeping time echoed around them as reality warped and faded away.

Chapter Text

NEUNZEHN

TIMELINE X+N

When the world stabilized around the shinigami, they were somewhere completely different. They were at one end of a massive, steep arena with thousands of seats filled with a wide variety of stuffed animals. Spotlights and searchlights of various colors pierced the night sky. At the far end of the field was a giant plush love seat with a heart-shaped back. Huge sweets of all kinds were strewn about it. Upon it sat a skeleton in a pink marching band conductor's suit complete with tall hat, tapping a sharp baton in time with the snare drum.

Fweeeeeeee fweet! Fweet! Fweet! Fweet!

A whistle blew an introduction followed by booming drumbeats and horns blasting a fanfare. Rin continued to stand in a daze, but Shino and Ryūnosuke looked down and noticed that the space between themselves and the skeleton was filled by a marching band positioned to put on a field show. The band was made up of identical wind-up dolls with braided brown yarn hair and button eyes. Each was crowned with a skull and a fluffy pompom. Their marching and formations were perfectly synchronized.

Shino and Ryūnosuke were still gaping in shock when the big skeleton lifted its free hand to make a beckoning motion. Rin immediately marched forward. The band's formation parted to allow him to pass.

“What are you doing?!” shrieked Shino. She turned to Ryūnosuke. “Draw your sword, idiot!”

“B-but what's going on?!” Ryūnosuke whined as he fumbled with his zanpakutō.

“Hell if I know! Rin! Hey, Rin! Wake up!”

Shino stepped forward aggressively. The band immediately closed ranks, a row of sousaphone players sliding in front. They simultaneously blew a long, low note with such force that the two Thirteenth Division shinigami were blown off their feet and into the concrete wall of the arena. The band advanced on them.

Gasping, Shino climbed to her feet and glanced at Ryūnosuke. “Get up! Fight back! Multiple target defense, like Lieutenant Kuchiki taught us!” She began muttering the incantation for a kidō.

Ryūnosuke wheezed and levered himself up with a wince. “First Way of Destruction,” he gasped as he held up his free hand. “Shō!” he yelled, jabbing his hand forward, using the entire palm instead of the usual fingertip.

The first three lines of dolls were pushed back several yards, toppling into one another. Before they could recover, Shino finished her incantation with, “Sixty-Second Way of Binding: Hyapporankan!” A pale blue lance materialized in her raised free hand. She hurled it at the dolls. The advanced spell was intended to immediately replicate itself into a hundred lances which would immobilize multiple enemies. However, Shino was still young and inexperienced, so her spell only produced around four dozen rods. Even so, the toppled dolls were immobilized and an obstacle course was formed to delay the rest of the enemies. The two escorts took a moment to steady themselves, panting.

“Mission objectives,” Shino said sharply, “Retrieve Rin.” She glanced aside at the sensor slug. The importance of the data it contained struck her hard. If Twelfth had been looking for whatever the hell this was, that sensor was priceless. “Protect the data.” Shino stared forward, scowling. “Ideas?”

Ryūnosuke bit his lip and scrubbed blood from his eyes. “I don't think I can run or move around much. Something in my left leg is grinding and there's something wrong with my hip. What if we put the sensor against the wall and I stand in front to defend, and you get Rin?”

“Because that will be so easy.” Shino spat blood and a tooth on the ground and thought.

“You're the one who said the mission was too easy.”

Shino cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders. Breathing hurt like hell; cracked ribs? “Shaddap.” She pointed her finger at the big slug and muttered, “Fourth Way of Binding: Hainawa.” Sparking yellow energy danced from her fingertips and lassoed the device. She hauled it to the wall and canceled the spell. “Right. Hold your ground, Ryūnosuke.”

“Be careful!” Ryūnosuke called as Shino darted forward with shunpo. He drew a deep breath and steadied himself as the musical dolls began to push through the makeshift barrier he and Shino had created.

Rin was already halfway across the field, the marching automatons smoothly parting in a wave around him as he progressed and flowing back into place behind him as though liquid. Shino hopscotched across the band, jumping from head to head over the crowd. Ahead of her, three rows of dolls knelt to expose a fourth row of clarinet players who simultaneously lobbed their instruments like javelins, each trailing glowing pink musical notes in its wake.

“Shō!” Shino called out, cutting the spell's incantation short. It diminished the spell's power, but served its purpose and knocked the clarinet-javelins off course. Shino kept running across the band. Two big drums suddenly came spinning at her from forward and to either side. With her next step, she launched herself vertically to avoid them. The drums exploded upon impact with one another and blew her back a bit. She grit her teeth, landed on a doll's shoulders so hard it crumpled beneath her, and slashed the other dolls nearby while she recovered from her landing. They collapsed with the sound of rattling bones.

Panting angrily and fending off dolls with her blade, Shino stood and snarled, “Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south! Thirty-First Way of Destruction: Shakkahō!”

The spell, powered by a full incantation and rage, blasted a smoking path through the ranks of the dolls. Shino wasted no time and rushed through it with shunpo. When she neared the end of the extended blast crater, she threw another Shō in front of her and used the collapsing dolls as a foothold to get above the band again. Shino saw Rin when she was about three quarters of the way across the field. Face determined, she screamed, “ Fourth Way of Binding: Hainawa!” Once again the yellow energy struck out, this time lassoing the errant scientist and yanking him off his feet.

Shino had a single moment to revel in success before the big skeleton leaned forward from its throne and stabbed Rin through the chest with its sharpened conductor's baton. Rin showed no reaction, as doll-like as the marching band. Shino watched in horror as the skeleton tugged at the end of her spell, snapped it, and lifted Rin toward its skull. The skull's jaw opened, then the skeleton put the end of the baton in its mouth, bit down, and ate Rin whole like the last dango on a skewer.

Shino had never seen death in battle before. She froze in terror until a doll stabbed her in both shoulders with a pair of drumsticks. Shino shrieked and dove forward, hitting the ground hard and immediately moving into a leg sweep to trip the dolls around her.

We need to escape with the sensor, Shino thought frantically. She'd have to fight her way back the way she had come. Was there an exit there? Not that she had seen. Glancing up at the skeleton, which was slowly moving to stand, she wondered if they needed to defeat the ruler of whatever twisted domain they had fallen into in order to escape. How could the skeleton be defeated, though? It felt a lot like a Hollow, but didn't have a bone mask. It was made entirely of bone, though. Maybe if she broke its face? That would be like breaking a mask, right? It was her only idea, so she went with it.

Shino charged forward, repeated her Shō-skip-jump technique, and took progressively higher leaps. When she reached the end of the band, she launched herself up at the skeleton's face with a roar, blade at the ready. The skeleton swatted her like a fly, batting her back across and through the entire band until she was mere yards from a tiring Ryūnosuke. His swordsmanship and kidō were getting weak. Shino writhed, rolled to her elbows and knees the best she could— poorly— and screamed in agony as she threw up. She started hacking and dizzily wondered if the blood was from her lungs or stomach as she distantly heard Ryūnosuke scream her name. The hand that wasn't a shattered mess scrabbled around the ground for her blade, but it was lost.

Suddenly, all the dolls stood still and held their instruments in the air. The shinigami watched in confusion as the instruments formed a stream in the air and flew toward the now standing skeleton, the dolls collapsing when their instruments were gone. The instruments were caught up in flowing, glowing pink musical staves and were soon bound to the skeleton. There was an overwhelming flash of light which dimmed to reveal that the skeleton had transformed.

The skeleton itself had shrunk and its uniform had turned red and featured images of bones, making it a skeleton wearing a skeleton suit. Its skull had sharpened and gained pointed sunglasses and its body had extra appendages that looked like wing bones, a pair at its shoulders and a pair at its hips. It was perched in a glowing crevice in the center of a bizarre heart-shaped machine. Shino deliriously wondered if Rin could have identified it had he been alive to see it. It hovered in the air using thrusters that spewed pink light. The skeleton raised its conducting baton and jabbed it at the shinigami as though ordering an army to advance. It blasted the arena with a sonic attack strong enough to crumble the stands and blow the shinigami into the cracked concrete wall once more.

Shino and Ryūnosuke fell to the rubble crumpled and broken. They lay there and looked at each other in fear, unable to move.

Thanks to their burst eardrums, they never heard the barrage of recorder-shaped missiles coming.

A white creature perched on the roof access shack and calmly groomed its fluffy tail. After awhile, it tilted its head as though listening to something, then stretched and hopped off the roof. There was no longer anything to observe.

Homura didn't recall ever having so much trouble tracking down a Witch. She figured she'd wait until Friday to push the subject of doing a night hunt.

In the meantime, Homura was having the most pleasantly mundane week she'd had in years. Sure, she was still hunting Witches, plotting how to save Madoka, and trying to not reveal her true powers, but she was also sitting around a table going over homework at night, eating meals in a family setting, helping with chores, and was often in the presence of an adult who actually demonstrated concern for her without being clingy. That last one was something rare for her. Her uncle was one extreme while her parents had been the other. The only other adults to be moderate were Madoka's parents in one timeline during which Homura had stayed at their house. Maybe it was because they weren't actually related? She was still unsure how to handle it, but it was mostly nice. She had even made new friends for the first time in dozens of timelines. It was something she hadn't allowed herself since the timeline in which Mami had found out about Witches in the worst possible way and plunged into homicidal insanity. But the twins, while upset, had rolled with the punch and stood to fight on— possibly even more determined than before. Strange. The whole situation was surreal on many levels. But it was novel and generally pleasant, so Homura cherished it despite the uncertainty.

On top of everything else, Karakura was an Incubator-free zone. That made it heaven on earth even with the presence of Hollows. The absence of beady red eyes following her and trying to figure her out was a relief.

Speaking of Hollows, Homura encountered one herself during her wanderings on Wednesday afternoon soon after having lunch with Isshin. She was pacing the tracks again when she felt that strange magic Karin had called a Garganta followed by the presence of a Hollow magical signature. Reiatsu. Whatever. It was actually very close to her. Karin had said people with higher reiatsu attracted Hollows; Homura wondered if she should expect to see more Hollows as she wandered around with her soul out in the open.

Homura allowed her Soul Gem to return to ring form, summoned her shield, and waited. A Hollow soon peered around the corner of a building ahead of her, sniffed, and moved into full view. It looked like a lithe, bipedal dinosaur about eight feet tall, bearing a spiked tail and a mask that looked like a fossilized dinosaur skull. Its short arms extended into leathery vestigial wings, uselessly small. A hilariously lurid shade of orange showed through the fossilized bones decorating its body. It cast about and locked onto her. Homura raised her shield and stood her ground, face set in a hard frown of concentration. The Hollow screeched and advanced on her rapidly. She readied her shield, left arm held horizontally in front of her face as she bent her knees and leaned forward. At the perfect instant, Homura used a magic-enhanced leap to jump up and meet the oncoming Hollow while swinging her shield in a tight, backhanded arc. The glowing metal impacted the side of the Hollow's mask with the perfect velocity, causing cracks to spiderweb across its face. Homura used the point of impact as a fulcrum to spin in a clockwise circle and brutally slam her magically-hardened right elbow into the center of the mask before she could fall back to the ground. The Hollow gave one final shriek and dissolved, its shape becoming more human as it faded. Homura stood and watched the black butterfly rise into the sky, ferrying the freed soul to the afterlife.

Homura smiled slightly. That actually felt really rewarding.

Kisuke sat on the edge of a tall building some distance away, absently rolling a stick of Pocky around in his mouth and swinging his legs while he watched Akemi with high-power binoculars. When the girl gave a satisfied little toss of her hair and resumed her mysterious search, Kisuke lowered the binoculars and sat back.

Now that had been something approximating shinigami shunpo. Completely different from however she had moved that morning.

So she could manifest a weapon. A shield was unconventional, but hey, every soul had different priorities. Zanpakutō could be rather revealing in their form sometimes. Psychologically, the girl was definitely guarded. Was she also very protective at her core? He wished she had held still enough for him to really look at the decorative designs on it. And it was interesting that he should instinctively relate her weapon to a zanpakutō. He'd have to poke at that more.

Moving on. How were the jewel, the ring, and the shield related? Was the base form the ring, and it turned into whatever tool the girl needed? Was there a set number of things it could turn into, or was it more versatile? The jewel had transformed into a ring before she manifested the shield, but it had then glowed with the same purple light as the shield appeared. Her hand had been hard to focus on from his angle so he didn't know if the ring was still on her finger as she fought. If they were all the same item, did what he had witnessed imply that the tool had to return to a base form before assuming another? That would be inconvenient. Also, an interesting check on her power.

And he hadn't felt a trace of the Hollow-like reiatsu rise in battle.

So many questions, so few answers.

Homura met the Kurosaki sisters outside the gate to their school as they had agreed to that morning. The three bought drinks from a vending machine and repeated their eastbound search of the railway corridor. Another day, another bust. It was getting seriously annoying. When they reached the edge of town without finding anything, Karin snarled and kicked a rock.

After visibly forcing herself to calm down, Karin grudgingly said, “May as well detour up to Urahara Shop as long as we're this far over. Make it look like we're not hiding anything with our wandering around.”

The other two girls had no objections, so the trio wandered northward. When they entered the little courtyard, they found a boy practicing swings with a baseball bat while a girl diligently swept the front porch.

“Hey, Ururu,” called Karin. The girl nodded a greeting at her, eyes sliding to Homura in curiosity. “This is Homura. We were here the other day, but I don't think you got to meet.”

Homura and Ururu murmured quiet greetings and bowed politely. Karin started to walk to the shop.

“Oi! Kurosaki! Not gonna introduce me?!” bellowed the red-haired boy.

“Why would I introduce anyone to you, Jinta?” Karin drawled.

Just as the boy looked like he would burst with rage, Yuzu waved and cheerfully said, “Hello, Jinta!”

The boy immediately backed down and looked bashful. “Uh, hi, Yuzu. H-how are you?”

Karin and Ururu looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

When the girls entered the shop, they found a mountain of a man tending the counter. Homura couldn't recall ever seeing such a tall person.

“Hi, Tessai,” the twins said.

The big man nodded cordially and said, “Good afternoon, Karin, Yuzu.” He dipped his head at Homura. “Good afternoon, miss.”

Homura was gravely returning his nod when Urahara swept in from the stock room. “Hello, hello, hello! What can I help you girls with?” he sang. He waved his fan around, indicating shelves. “Hollow-repellent key chains are buy two, get one free today! Once opened, each is guaranteed to work for a whole month! Available in five different mascot designs! Also, imported European candy is half-off due to overstock!”

Karin started out uninterested but perked up. “Are those Italian Glitterati things included in the sale?”

“Of course!” Urahara waved his fan at one particular shelf.

Karin crowed “Score!” and rushed over to it.

Urahara looked at Homura as though searching for something. She stared right back at him, unfazed. Urahara tipped his hat to her. “You've had quite the week, Miss Akemi. As an apology for my slow progress in this investigation, please help yourself to whatever you want from the candy section. Consider it a gift.”

Homura tilted her head and kept staring. She wondered if he was being genuine. He was hard to read. It unsettled her.

“C'mon, Homura!” Karin called. “Usually I'd say don't take candy from strangers—”

“Heyyyyy.”

“—But Urahara stocks the good stuff and can't mess with it because he sells it to the normals, too.”

Urahara pouted dramatically. “You wound me, Karin.”

Karin rolled her eyes. “Psshyeah, right. Come on, Homura!”

Homura slowly walked over to Karin, glancing over her shoulder at Urahara. She was uncomfortable leaving her back open to him. Karin grabbed her hand and yanked her over to the candy. “Choose!”

Homura stared blankly at the literal wall of candy.

Yuzu leaned forward and smiled over her tins of Flavigny anise drops. “Do you have a favorite foreign candy, Homura?”

Memories of her late mother taking her to a fancy candy store on the way home from the Nutcracker ballet every Christmas swam up into her conscious mind. “Marzipan,” Homura said softly. Just as softly, she immediately tucked away that set of memories. She knew better than to dwell on them these days.

The sisters made identical hums of thought as they searched the shelves. Karin jolted and darted a hand out. “Aww, yeah, he has it! This is it, right?”

Homura hummed agreement and gently took the box from Karin. She stood by the door with her box of marzipan and stared at Urahara while the sisters purchased their own candy. Urahara stared evenly back at her.

She really didn't know what to make of the man.

When the girls were gone, Kisuke went to his lab to look up the results of the passive scan he had run a second time to verify the previous results. He was understandably quite surprised to see that the results were very different from Sunday. Yuzu and Homura were completely free of the Hollow-like reiatsu, while the concentration of it in Karin's soul had lessened. Kisuke frowned and scratched his head.

He really didn't know what to make of those girls.

When Homura approached the gate of the twins' school on Thursday afternoon, she found Karin's white-haired shinigami friend already leaning against the wall. She slowed, unsure whether she should stay or leave. It would probably be suspicious to leave, she supposed, so she stepped up to the gate and positioned herself across from him with a quiet, “Hello.”

He glanced up from his cell phone, apparently in the middle of texting. “Good afternoon,” he said politely. “How are you... holding up?”

Homura looked down and smoothed her skirt demurely while she decided how to answer. “Well enough, I suppose. Karin and Yuzu are good company.”

The shinigami hummed in agreement. “I'm glad to hear it.”

Both stood in companionable silence until the bell rang, neither feeling a particular need to talk to the other. They were aloof in the face of the students streaming out the gates until the Kurosaki sisters approached.

“Well, looky here,” exclaimed Karin. “It's our good buddies Stoic and Stoicker.”

“That's not a real word, Kurosaki,” Tōshirō drawled. He nodded hello to Yuzu.

“It's a word if I say it is,” Karin said snobbily.

“Who died and made you god-queen of the dictionary?” Tōshirō asked, mildly caustic.

“Who said you could go back to calling me Kurosaki? Brr, Tōsh, I feel the chill.”

Tōshirō lazily rolled his eyes and Yuzu giggled. Homura felt like some kind of inside joke had just gone over her head.

Karin smirked. “Hey, Homura, you remember my buddy Tōshirō, right?”

“Hitsugaya,” Tōshirō corrected without much enthusiasm, as though knowing he was already defeated.

“Tōshirō,” Karin reaffirmed with a glare his way. “He's kind of a stick in the mud, but he's a decent guy. Great at soccer, at least.”

Expression flat, Tōshirō droned, “Stop, you're making me blush.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Hitsugaya,” Homura murmured with a bow.

Tōshirō nodded. “Likewise.” He turned to Karin and held up one hand to draw attention to Homura. “Do you see how easy that was, Karin?”

“Eh,” Karin replied with a careless shrug. Tōshirō sighed.

The four began walking away together. When they were an acceptable distance from other people, Yuzu asked, “How did your mission go, Tōshirō?”

Tōshirō's face twitched, probably at the informality. “It went well. I think I only need to split one patrol area into two. The officer there is handling the increased population all right but I'd feel better about it if he wasn't pushing himself quite so hard. He has done his duty quite well under duress so I'm going to give him leave when I split the patrol in two and let him choose which half he wants to serve in after he's rested.”

“Ooh, you're such a considerate commanding officer, Tōshirō,” Yuzu said sunnily.

Tōshirō blushed slightly and scratched a cheek with one finger. “Anyway, I finished sooner than I had expected so I have a few days left in the World of the Living. I figured I'd use it as a little vacation. Play some soccer or something.”

“Aww, yeeeahhhhh,” crowed Karin.

Witch hunting was abandoned for the day in favor of hours on a soccer field. Karin had scrounged up her soccer buddies (or minions, as Tōshirō muttered to Homura under his breath) to fill out some teams. Having been ill much of her life, it was the first time Homura had ever participated in a team sport. She could see why it was so popular now— it was fun. Even if Karin's minions were distasteful little trolls. It would be so much more fun if Karin's minions were replaced by the Mitakihara magical girls. Homura's earlier thought about playing soccer with everyone when she finally won became more solid in her mind's eye.

It would happen one day. Absolutely. She had to have faith in that.

Chapter Text

ZWANZIG

TIMELINE X+N

When the scientific expedition to Mitakihara failed to make a third status report in a row by noon on Thursday, Akon grew uneasy. If it was a communications malfunction, Rin was experienced enough to know to withdraw immediately. Akon tried remotely activating the emergency tracking beacons in the soul phones of all three mission participants, but was unable to connect to any of them. That was monumentally worrying. He tried sending Hell Butterflies. Nothing. None of the options were pretty; something had gone wrong.

After reporting to his captain, being raked across the coals for loss of equipment and manpower, and receiving an order to “clean up his own mess,” Akon chain-smoked three cigarettes to get up the nerve to face Captain Ukitake and confirm that yes, he had apparently thrown the man's subordinates to the lions.

Akon was waiting in the Thirteenth Division offices when Captain Ukitake and Lieutenant Kuchiki returned from mid-afternoon training of their subordinates. Ukitake took one look at Akon and his face went grim. He gestured for the scientist to follow him. The three ensconced themselves in the captain's office, Kuchiki standing next to her seated captain, Ukitake setting his elbows on the table and peering at Akon over his laced fingers.

“Report.”

Akon straightened. “Sir. The expedition led by Department Head Tsubokura has failed to complete three consecutive check-ins. Not only do they not answer when hailed, the tracking system cannot even locate their Soul Phones. Any of them. Attempts to reach them with Hell Butterflies similarly failed. The entire team is tentatively declared missing.”

Captain Ukitake frowned. “Your brief indicated that your only concern was potential low-level Hollows due to low spiritual density of the area, a task suited for unseated soldiers.” The Was that a lie? went unspoken but understood.

Akon pursed his lips. “The mission was to verify the spiritual density readings, as it had been brought to our attention that there is a discrepancy between the population growth of the area and its spiritual density. Based on speculative calculations done since, it is possible that our recorded figures were erroneous.” Implying that the area could be more dangerous than thought.

Ukitake's eyes narrowed. “To what degree?”

Akon stared the captain in the eye. “Figures on record indicate Level Two density, but population statistics imply the density should be closer to Level Six. The initial readings Tsubokura reported corroborate Level Two, but there were higher unexplained anomalies in the area.” He was so screwed.

There was silence for an excruciating two minutes while the captain just stared at Akon until he wanted to crawl into a cave and hide with a pack of smokes. Akon was pretty sure the captain was deliberately drawing out the silence to make him squirm.

“You should have requested seated officers for this, Third Seat Akon,” Ukitake said evenly. “Possibly a full protective detail.”

Honestly, people who could stay calm when infuriated were terrifying.

Akon swallowed thickly. “In retrospect, I do not deny such, sir.”

Elbows still on the table, Ukitake tapped his thumbs together in thought. “I presume your captain has been informed and authority to resolve the issue has been delegated to you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your plans?”

Akon's already grim face became more so. “As the oversight was mine, I will personally investigate the movements of the missing party myself rather than risk other subordinates. I am here to formally notify you of the situation and offer to be subordinate to whatever search party you may deem appropriate. Sir.”

Ukitake arched one eyebrow, glanced at his lieutenant thoughtfully, then looked back to Akon. “As the danger of the situation is unknown—” Akon winced internally at the jab— “my lieutenant and myself shall accompany you. I officially request a detailed dossier on the original mission so as to better understand the situation.”

“Yes, sir,” Akon replied. He held out two file folders while bowing. “I took the liberty of procuring copies for yourself and your lieutenant.”

Ukitake glanced at Rukia and gestured toward the folders with his chin. Kuchiki silently retrieved the files, face professionally cold.

“How long do you need to gather supplies and delegate your duties?” asked the captain.

Akon blew out a heavy breath. “I delegated before I came here. An hour should do.”

Ukitake nodded. “We will meet you at the gate in an hour, then.”

Akon bowed deeply with a sharp, “Yes, sir!” and beat a rapid retreat.

So screwed.

When the three girls returned to the Kurosaki Clinic for the evening, they were surprised to find Ichigo lounging on the couch with a textbook in his hands and a capped highlighter bouncing in one corner of his mouth.

“Ichi-nii! You're home two days early?!” exclaimed Karin.

That made Homura wary.

“Yuuuup,” Ichigo drawled, highlighter impeding his speech. “'Ad a test 'stead o' lecture, no lab t'morruh, Thaturday's review, figgerred I'd just c'mere.” He stopped, removed the highlighter from his mouth, and carefully used it to mark a line of print, then used the pen as a bookmark as he looked up at the girls. “Hope you don't mind.”

“Not at all, Onii-chan!” Yuzu gushed.

“Great,” Ichigo said. He looked past his sisters. “Hey, Homura. You hanging in there?”

Homura nodded silently. What else did he expect her to do? Say no?

Ichigo smiled slightly then glanced between all three girls and looked smug. “I talked the old man into taking us all out to dinner. Requests?”

The sisters squealed. “Pho! Pho!”

Ichigo grinned. “How did I know you'd say that?” He looked at his sisters' friend. “You like pho, Homura?”

Homura tilted her head. “What is... fuh?”

The twins gasped and looked scandalized.

“Sacrilege!”

“Heresy!”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. “It's Vietnamese food. Noodles, meat, broth. Pretty basic stuff. Some greens and sauces on the side. You game to try it?”

“Oh.” Homura blinked at the twins, who were looking at her eagerly. “Yes, that will be fine.”

The sisters cheered and did a double high-five.

Once Isshin had closed the clinic, the family set out for a pho place they liked with Homura trailing along uncertainly. The entire evening was much wilder than Homura was used to for a trip to a restaurant from the time they closed the door of the house through the walks either way and the meal. She was swept along in the family's loud banter and raucous laughter, even finding herself smiling a bit when all three Kurosaki siblings played that Ichigo was the adult in the party and Isshin good-naturedly played up his role as a petulant man-child. It was an evening full of giggles and melodramatic cries of, “We can't take you anywhere!” and trying new food. When they went home, everyone gathered around the dining table to share desserts and giggle through homework.

When Homura settled down for bed that night, she actually felt comfortable. Warm inside. The Kurosaki family wasn't her family, of course, but they were the closest thing she had had to one in many years. It was uncertain whether she could get as close to them in the next timeline, so Homura carefully ran through her memories of the evening. She savored them and permanently inscribed them upon her mind. Such pleasant, comforting experiences had become a precious rarity in her bizarrely looping life and she'd be damned if anything tore the memories from her.

“The team's final communication originated here on Wednesday at zero-eight-hundred hours,” Akon explained to the commanding officers of Thirteenth Division as they stood in the sky over a long-abandoned pier in Shinchi. He dodged around a screeching seagull. “Department Head Tsubokura reported that they had spent the night here after examining the site and finding no currently extant anomalies. He notified me that their plan for the day was to complete a westerly sweep through Shinchi, veering north into western Mitakihara.”

Captain Ukitake frowned at the seaside city, its buildings in silhouette against the sunset as the ocean darkened behind them. “Do you know how much of Shinchi they intended to cover?”

“No, sir. It was subject to whether the Department Head found anything worth investigating.”

Captain Ukitake hummed. “We will follow their proposed path, starting with a wide sweep of Shinchi. Rukia and I will use our senses looking for our subordinates while you use your equipment to look for anomalies. If we don't find anything by zero-two-hundred hours, we will set a camp and sleep in one-hour shifts, then resume our search, moving north into Mitakihara. Understood?”

Kuchiki and Akon both barked, “Yes, sir.”

Captain Ukitake stared into the twinkling early evening lights, face determined. Akon knew that if his subordinates were still out there, he would find them.

Come Friday morning, Ichigo accompanied all the girls to the gate of the middle school. It was obvious to him that all three were trying to figure out why, but he kept his mouth shut. Ichigo shooed his sisters into the school gate and beckoned for Homura to follow him. He pretended he didn't notice the wary look she exchanged with Karin and Yuzu before they parted. Anxiety made his heart flutter in time with the quiet steps behind him. He knew he would soon be walking a very fine line with her and he couldn't afford to screw up.

Stop yer worryin', King, the Hollow sneered. It's you. Even if you do fuck up it'll somehow be the right way to fuck up.

Ass, Ichigo thought at him on reflex. He felt the Hollow curl its lip in disgust; however, that was still pretty damn encouraging from him, so he added, Thanks.

Positive reinforcement, they called it. Right?

The Hollow scoffed and retreated.

Ichigo took Homura to a café, bought them both some fancy coffee, and led her outside again. They stood drinking for a minute; Ichigo only realized he was staring at the girl while he tried to figure out his approach when her neutral expression pinched into a frown somewhere between wariness and annoyance.

He was going to make this a disaster if he thought about it any more. So Ichigo drew a deep breath and said, “Come on. Let's go somewhere more private. I want to talk to you about... what's going on.” He tilted his chin to urge her to follow him and turned and walked away.

Homura stood still for a moment, uneasy, then cautiously followed him. When she caught up to him, he pretended to have not noticed her hesitation. They walked in silence, eventually ending up by a lonely bench on a river embankment. Ichigo sat and once again remained neutral in the face of Homura's hesitation and choice to sit as far from him as possible. They sat quietly for a long while. He hoped she would say something, give him an opening, but she was stonily silent and gave him nothing to react to. It was all on him.

At length, Ichigo said, “I'm not really very good about being all nuanced when I talk. Subtle just isn't my thing. So if I get blunt or whatever, I don't mean anything negative by it. Call me out on it if I make you too uncomfortable with what I'm saying, okay? I won't be angry.”

Homura eyed him suspiciously. “...All right.”

“Okay.” Ichigo took a deep breath. He tried to choose his words carefully. “I've been texting the old man to see how you and the girls have been doing this week. He says you keep switching between opening up and withdrawing. While he doesn't understand what happened to you, he raised three kids and is good at reading people. He is very convinced that you feel guilty somehow.” Ichigo turned and looked directly at Homura. Seriously, he asked, “Do you blame yourself for what happened to your friends?”

Homura flinched and looked away before she could stop herself. And it was obvious that she tried to stop herself.

Ichigo sighed softly. That was all the answer he needed. “It's not your fault,” he said quietly.

“Yes, it is,” Homura said dully. Her face was tired and her eyes looked far away. She was seeing something in her mind's eye and it wasn't anything good.

What happened to you?! Tell me! he wanted to shout.

“What makes you think that?” Ichigo asked neutrally. He waited out her long silence, calmly watching the river and sipping his coffee as Homura fidgeted with her cup. His goal was to nudge her into talking without putting pressure on her. It was less direct than he usually addressed things, so he hoped he didn't suck at it.

Homura pursed her lips and looked at the ground. It was plainly a subject she usually tried to avoid thinking about, much less talking about. Like his mother's death had been for him.

Was it difficult to express in words? Was she trying to be careful of keeping her story straight? Really, in her place, Ichigo could see himself refuse to speak of... whatever the problem was. He knew the feeling all too well. So he tried his best to channel Yuzu: to be inviting, non-judgmental, and sympathetic. Tried to draw her in. Desperately hoped Homura actually found herself wanting to talk to him. Otherwise, they had nothing to go on. Nothing.

Homura eventually settled on a vague, “They died because of my actions and inaction.”

“Oh?” He would not cheer in relief that she actually answered. Would. Not. After taking a drink, he casually asked, “Did you make the monsters kill them?”

Homura sat up straight and looked at him with wide eyes. “No!”

“So, what, you think they were in danger because of you?”

Homura frowned.

“Not quite, huh?” Ichigo turned his face skyward and thought. He reflected upon himself throughout the years. “Then do you feel like you weren't strong enough to help them and they would have lived if you were stronger, faster, smarter, whatever? That if you had just been the perfect fighter, you could have saved them?”

Homura cringed hard. It said everything, really.

Ichigo sighed and leaned back. “I see.”

“It's true, though,” Homura blurted. Words rushed through her lips with increasing speed and pressure. “If I had done everything right, they wouldn't have been in danger, wouldn't have needed to fight—”

“But is that a realistic thing to expect of yourself?” Ichigo interrupted.

Homura whipped her head around to look at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Did my sisters tell you I fought in a shinigami war?”

Homura became more confused. “Yes? They said you beat the leader of... the enemy?”

Ichigo hummed. “I did, but I didn't do it alone. I don't think I could have pulled it off on my own. I had help every step of the way.”

Homura frowned. “But Karin and Yuzu said you're very powerful and a very good fighter.”

“I am, I guess; or maybe just stubborn and lucky,” Ichigo said while scratching the back of his neck. “But I got that strong with the support of my friends and allies. There were several times when friends saved my ass when I was defeated. There were a lot of skills I was taught that I wouldn't have known if I was on my own. Power is useless if you don't know how to apply it properly. Even if you do know how to use your power perfectly, you may still fall short of your goals. They called me the strongest shinigami. But did you know I didn't strike the final blow on Aizen?”

Homura blinked and looked lost. “You didn't?”

“No,” Ichigo said wryly. “But I was strong enough to weaken him to the point that Urahara was able to trap him.” He looked at Homura. “I was at the peak of my strength, in perfect harmony with my zanpakutō, matching my opponent blow for blow, and I still needed help from a friend. Now that I'm a bit older, I find that applies to most challenges in life. When you and your friends rely on each other, you all face challenges knowing someone has your back. That's priceless. When you try to fight on your own, it's much easier for something to sneak up on you. It may be an enemy, it may be exhaustion, but whatever it is, you set yourself up to be blindsided later.”

“But—” Homura faltered.

“There's only so much one person can do. You can't be everywhere at once. My point is this: You can't expect to be able to solve everyone else's problems— to protect everyone else— all by yourself. That was a hard lesson for me to learn myself. I still have trouble with it. You did the best you could with the knowledge and experience you have. It's not your fault that it wasn't enough. It won't bring those girls back, but from now on you have allies. Wherever you go from this point in your life, you can call on us to support you when you face a problem that you struggle to handle yourself. If this mess is anyone's fault, it's whatever is behind these monster attacks. Second place would probably be the shinigami— I think they really dropped the ball, here.”

Homura stared at him for a long time. “But— but the w-monsters. I was there. They died because I— I—”

Ichigo hummed contemplatively. “Did you summon them?”

“What?”

“Did you summon the monsters yourself?”

Homura furrowed her brow. “No.”

“You have no control over whether dangerous spirits show up to prey on people and how other people react to them,” Ichigo reasoned.

“But—” Homura pursed her lips and looked down unhappily.

Ichigo considered his next words carefully. It was something he didn't like to talk about, but if it could help the girl.... “I do know how you feel, though,” he said quietly.

Homura looked up at him with blatant offended disbelief and suspicion. She thought he was being trite.

Ichigo took a deep breath and looked at the river. “For a long time, I blamed myself for my mother's death.”

Homura's eyes widened and she inhaled sharply.

“I was nine. She was walking me home from karate practice in the rain. I saw a girl on the bridge by a broken rail and ran to her. I didn't know it was a spirit. I blacked out and woke up with my mom lying on me, dead. A few years ago I found out she died protecting me from a Hollow that used a lure that could look like a person.” He turned his empty cup around in his hands. “I also found out my elevated reiatsu attracts Hollows. Put one and one together... I thought it was obviously my fault.” He shrugged.

Homura's mouth opened and closed a few times before she settled on a wavering frown.

“But it wasn't.” Ichigo turned to look her straight in the eye. “My father tried to convince me of that for a long time, but I didn't get it. Not until I got older and learned more of how the spirit world works. I had no control over whether a Hollow showed up. I was untrained, unaware of my power, and young. If there was any failure, it was on the part of the shinigami, who had known of that Hollow for decades and failed at taking it out. I should have been able to rely on their protection. In their absence, there was no way a nine-year-old human could realistically expect to defend against a decades-old Hollow.”

“But— but I know how to fight the— monsters—” Homura objected.

“Sure. But it sounds like there are so many monsters up there that a single middle school girl can't reasonably be expected to defend against them all. Probably not even a lot of middle school girls, working together or not. None of you should have had to fight. The failure isn't on your part, but on the force behind the attacks and the organization that should have found the problem and protected you.”

Homura stared. Like she was reasoning out what he had said. Still, she looked at him doubtfully.

Ichigo sighed lightly. “I know I probably can't convince you of all that right away, but I think you'll get it someday. Until then, know that no one blames you and the girls and I will be there for you when you need us, yeah? Our old man, too. Okay?”

Homura's cheeks pinked and she looked down again. “Okay.”

Ichigo grinned sympathetically and ruffled her hair like he did with his sisters. “I think it's almost time for the girls to get out. Let's pick them up and go to lunch, yeah?”

“Mm.”

Well, she hadn't said much, but it hadn't been a complete disaster. He'd take what he could get.

Mid-afternoon found Akon, Lieutenant Kuchiki, and Captain Ukitake finishing up a brief stop to eat. They were perched on an apartment building from which they could look three blocks down the street and see the media vans that were camped out in front of the Kaname residence.

“Vultures,” Lieutenant Kuchiki muttered.

Her captain gave a solemn hum of disapproving agreement, then sighed. “Let's get moving.”

The three shinigami put their supplies away and slung the small packs over their shoulders. They spread out so they were just in sight of one another and continued their search. They veered east through the suburbs until they encountered the train station, then followed the tracks northwest until they had doubled back to a park. From there, they crossed the tracks and combed through the more densely populated residential condo towers. They were considering sweeping east again when Akon suddenly drew to a halt, staring at the sensor in his hand. The leaders of Thirteenth Division were soon at his side.

“Akon?” asked Captain Ukitake.

Akon furrowed his brow and waved the sensor back and forth. “There's some kind of... weakness in the spiritual structure of the World of the Living nearby.” Distracted, he used shunpo to go in a few random directions with the sensor before settling on a direction to move. He stopped himself and looked up at the captain. “Your orders, sir?”

Captain Ukitake frowned. “Proceed with caution. Retreat if you encounter anything dangerous. Lieutenant, prepare for battle. We may flush something out.”

“Yes, sir!”

Lieutenant Kuchiki drew her blade, as did her captain. The three descended, bouncing along the maze-like corridors between residential towers until they emerged into a clearing that contained a park. All three looked around cautiously before Akon landed on the ground and cast about. His sensor led the three of them to a currently unoccupied concert shell.

“Whatever it is is up on the stage, I think,” Akon said quietly.

Captain Ukitake narrowed his eyes. “Something does feel... off.” He glanced at his lieutenant. The two of them quietly jumped up by the stage's floor lamps. Akon followed them warily when nothing ambushed them. He pointed to where the sensor detected the anomaly.

“I think I see it,” Lieutenant Kuchiki said quietly.

They all stared. There was a telltale ripple in the air at center stage. It looked like heat haze despite a lack of heat. At certain angles, a wave of pink light faintly wove through it in an indistinct pattern.

“What is this, Akon?” asked Captain Ukitake.

“I... I don't know, sir.”

“It feels like,” Lieutenant Kuchiki started, then hesitated. “Both like there's something there and nothing there. If that makes sense.”

Captain Ukitake hummed. “Well, fortune favors the bold,” he said. Then he stabbed at the anomaly with his zanpakutō before Akon could even brace himself.

The anomaly suddenly flared, a pink sigil snapping into focus. It was taller than the captain and looked like a translucent drawing of a winged skull over a wreath or laurel of four-petaled flowers. The three shinigami stared.

“Whyyy does that feel like a Garganta?” Lieutenant Kuchiki asked slowly. “Only... not really a Garganta?”

The Thirteenth Division shinigami turned to Akon. Akon was fascinated but confused and held his hands up in a gesture of being at a loss.

Captain Ukitake looked to the sigil once more. “It does feel like a doorway between worlds.” He tilted his head and thought. “Akon, if the investigation party went through a doorway like this and ended up in... Hueco Mundo or somewhere else, would that explain why you can't locate their phones?”

Akon rolled his shoulders, face tight with concentration. “Yes, actually. I only broadcast the emergency signal to the World of the Living. That wouldn't get any results if they weren't in that dimension.”

The captain frowned. “Can you tell anything about what is on the other side of this... doorway?”

Akon knelt and rummaged in his pack for some cord. “It's unconventional, but this should work.” He tied the cord to the main rod of his dowsing snail and used a silent Shō spell to propel it into the portal. After a tense few minutes, he hauled it out. The sensor was thankfully intact. Akon fiddled around with it. “Whatever is in there, it's crawling with Hollow-like reiatsu. Much stronger than the residual traces Tsubokura reported on Monday. It should be habitable, though.”

They stared at the anomaly for another minute or so while the captain thought. He nodded decisively. “Right. We're going to go in. Report our status to Twelfth before we go, Akon. Request that the Captain Commander be notified of everything should we fail to report within two hours. Upon my authority.”

“Yes, sir!”

After lunch, Ichigo gave each of the girls some money and told them to get a treat or see a movie or something.

“Where are you going?” Yuzu asked.

Ichigo shrugged. “I have some things to check up on. Make sure Ms. Ikumi hasn't worked her new assistant to death, maybe stop by some friends. And I want to see if I need to light a fire under Sandal-Hat's ass to get him to figure things out faster. I don't think you really need to be there for that.”

All three girls squinted at him suspiciously.

“You mean you don't want us there,” Karin corrected him.

Ichigo shrugged. “What of it?”

Karin scowled. “Why shouldn't we be th—?!”

“Drop it, Karin,” Yuzu ordered. Karin's mouth snapped closed with a click and she looked at her sister in surprise. Yuzu gave her brother an even stare. “You're trying to protect Homura, aren't you? You don't want her upset by results or buried in questions.”

Ichigo sighed. “You are terrifyingly perceptive, Yuzu.”

Yuzu smiled sunnily. “You're just easy to read, Onii-chan!”

“D'aww, Ichi-nii's a big softie,” crowed Karin.

Ichigo barked out a laugh and mussed her hair. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go have fun.”

Ichigo stood and watched them walk away for a few minutes, noting Yuzu's gushing declaration that they should show Homura Naruki City (across the entire town from Urahara Shop) and how his sisters flocked on either side of Homura (like bodyguards).

Ichigo rolled his eyes fondly. Yeeeah, suuure, he was totally the only softie protecting the girl. Uh-huh. Riiiight.

The three shinigami cautiously stepped through the portal. While they had thought themselves prepared for anything and half expected to end up in Hueco Mundo, they were surprised by the bizarre world they found themselves in. They were at one end of a steep stadium whose seats were filled with stuffed animals. The wall and seats behind them looked like they had been recently broken and put back together again, cracks studded with pieces of duct tape like stitches. The stuffed animals in the reconstructed portion of the arena each had several bandages on them. Akon spotted the heavily-damaged reiatsu analysis sensor, but was wary of approaching it. Rukia nudged her captain after looking a distance away from the sensor. She pointed to a stretch of repaired wall with dried streaks of blood, a large patch of charred grass, and the bloodied remains of Shino's distinctive lily-pad-like hair ornament. The survey party had most likely met a violent end.

On their other side was a wide field filled with a marching band made of dolls. The grass between the shinigami and the band was pockmarked; the Thirteenth Division officers narrowed their eyes, recognizing the remnants of a tactic they taught their subordinates for defense against multiple threats. So the band was dangerous rather than decorative. At the far end of the stadium, a gigantic human skeleton in a pink band conductor's uniform tapped a baton, directing the rattling sound of snare drums keeping time from somewhere within the band.

“Akon?” Captain Ukitake asked tensely.

“Nooo clue,” Akon replied, looking around in confused fascination.

“Sir?” said Rukia. When her captain looked at her expectantly, she continued. “This feels like a combination of Hueco Mundo and that weird... dollhouse-world I was pulled into by the Fullbringer Riruka Dokugamine.”

Captain Ukitake raised an eyebrow in interest and looked to Akon.

Akon shrugged. “We didn't receive sufficient data to do any kind of evaluation or comparison of the abilities of the Fullbringers.”

Fweeeeeeee fweet! Fweet! Fweet! Fweet!

A whistle and booming drums drew the shinigami's attention to the band, which began to march toward them. The Thirteenth Division officers immediately performed the same tactic their subordinates must have, but with much greater effect. Rukia cast Shō in a wide arc in front of them. Captain Ukitake then curtly spoke the shortened incantation for Hyapporankan and impaled the first dozen rows of dolls with lances of blue light, pinning them to the ground.

Determined to wipe out the small army before him, the captain then snapped, “Fifty-Seventh Way of Destruction: Daichi Tenyō!”

Three quarters of the field shattered and levitated, throwing the marching dolls into disarray. Captain Ukitake used the spell to launch the broken debris at the big skeleton at the end of the field. The skeleton shrieked, streams of glowing pink musical staves rapidly flowing from its mouth to weave a barrier in front of it. The pieces of earth and the dolls caught up with them broke against the shield. Still shrieking, the skeleton stood and made a sharp upward gesture with its conductor's baton. Discarded instruments from the field levitated and flowed toward the skeleton on more pink musical staves which then bound them to the skeleton. The mass glowed with a bright pink light that formed a heart before breaking into sparkles, leaving a smaller skeleton dressed in red perched in a glowing crevice in the bizarre, heart-shaped machine's center. It hovered on pink thrusters and broadcast the sound of an orchestra warming up at a gradually increasing volume from a bank of giant speakers.

Akon, standing guard over Rin's abandoned sensor, blurted, “Oh, shit, I think that's an LRAD!”

“An el-what?!” shouted Rukia.

“SOUND CANN—!”

Akon's answer was completely drowned out by a blast of music so loud it further shattered the ground and ruptured their eardrums before they could react. The three shinigami grimaced and blocked their faces with their arms but managed to keep their footing by bracing themselves with their reiatsu, which was much stronger than the first team's. Each of the three managed to get an Enkōsen kidō shield up moments later to decrease the onslaught, but the damage had already been done. They stood resolute while the glowing pink musical notes, inert dolls, and field debris blew into and around their shields. The blast ceased after what felt like an eternity.

Captain Ukitake tried to speak to his team, but saw their ears just as bloody as his own probably were. He pantomimed to Akon to protect the sensor. Akon looked confused, then brightened in realization and nodded. Next, the captain glanced at his lieutenant and made standard hand signal orders to her, watching for her reply. She nodded, then glanced over his shoulder with wide eyes. Captain Ukitake looked back at the massive sound cannon. A turret full of giant recorders had unfurled from its base and began to spin. He had no idea what they were for until the recorders all burst forward, propelled by pink, rocket-like energy.

Though he could no longer hear his own voice, Captain Ukitake roared, “Eighty-First Way of Binding: Dankū!” The huge pane of translucent reishi materialized just in time to block the missiles, which exploded against it spectacularly. The captain then met his lieutenant's eyes with a hard glare, nodding at her to begin their attack. It was time to end this.

The two officers leapt in opposite directions and rushed along the top of the wall between the stands and the field, each rapidly muttering a different high-level kidō incantation. The strange creature hesitated, unsure of which shinigami it should target. When the two officers were not quite parallel with the monster, they shouted the final words of their spells.

“Seventy-Third Way of Destruction: Sōren Sōkatsui!” Rukia screamed. A double bolt of blue light blasted from her hands.

“Eighty-Eighth Way of Destruction: Hiryū Gekizoku Shinten Raihō!” Captain Ukitake bellowed. A massive electrical construct burst toward the monster.

Hit from two sides by an overwhelming amount of power, the monster screeched and blew to smithereens. Its pieces disintegrated into pink sparkles in mid-flight. Moments later, the nightmare world wavered around them and faded. Akon dove toward Rin's sensor, wrapping his arms around it as the pocket dimension collapsed completely.

The three shinigami found themselves back on the stage of the concert shell in the park, spread out in a wide triangle. As they panted, a silver spindle containing a black jewel floated down to the ground between them. All three stared at it, then each other.

Captain Ukitake and Rukia didn't need their ears to understand Akon's enthusiastically mouthed What the hell?! and heartily agree.

Chapter Text

EINUNDZWANZIG

TIMELINE X+N

Once out of view of Ichigo, the three girls detoured toward the railroad tracks yet again. This time they proceeded west, crossing into Naruki City. They were seven city blocks in when their Soul Gems began to glow faintly. They followed the tracks another two blocks until they were facing an overpass where the road went above the tracks. Wary of the tunnel, the girls veered around it to see if the Witch was further on. Unfortunately, their Gems led them back to the overpass.

Karin huffed, let her Gem turn back into a ring, and put her hands on her hips. “I swear to God, if we defeat this Witch and immediately get hit by a train I will be pissed,” she grumbled.

Yuzu sighed. She threw her hands over her head and did a warm-up stretch. “We'll have to be careful when the labyrinth collapses.”

Homura coolly said, “Let's get this over with,” and entered the tunnel, Soul Gem brandished before her. The other two girls nodded and followed her. Halfway through the tunnel, the amethyst flared and the orange pumpkin clock sigil appeared before them. When the trio entered the portal, they found yet another surreal subway station. This one, however, had sprawling branches of blooming jacaranda growing along the ceiling in addition to the industrial wreckage and clocks. Dozens of painted lady butterflies darted about the lavender flowers. There was also a heavy presence in the air.

“Finally!” Karin said. “Only took forever to find her.” She held up her Soul Gem. “Let's do this.”

All three magical girls transformed and summoned weapons. After a minute of consideration, they cautiously set out along one of the tunnels.

“Homura,” said Yuzu, “The last time we found this Witch, we had to go through several areas like the one with the scarecrow-thing. We managed to get to the center of the labyrinth, but there were a lot more Familiars. The Witch ran away when we were too busy fighting them.”

“Neither of us has much of an area-of-effect attack,” Karin griped.

Homura hummed. “I have some ideas.”

“Oh?” Karin said archly. “You have some tricks up your sleeve? Or in your shield, I guess.”

“Grenades, bombs, assault rifles, and such,” Homura confirmed calmly.

Karin gaped, then laughed. “You're a walking arsenal, huh?”

“I suppose.”

Karin slapped a hand on Homura's shoulder. “Glad you're on our side, then!”

They soon found themselves in a subway station like the ones they had found before. It was a bit different, though; the omnipresent jacarandas decorated the ceiling and there were a dozen turnip-headed conductor scarecrows spinning around on the platform in an intricate pattern.

Yuzu sighed. “Even more than last time. We'll get worn out before we get to the Witch again.”

Homura made a thoughtful noise and put her handgun back in her shield. “I will take out as many as I can with a gun, then you two run in and pick off the leftovers.”

Karin looked at her skeptically. “How are you going to take out a bunch of Familiars by shooting one at a time? They'll swarm— holy shit, is that a machine gun?!”

Homura held up the FN Minimi and checked its ammunition box as the sisters stared with wide eyes. “Yes.” She lifted the gun to firing position. “Are you ready?”

Karin sputtered, then collected herself and made a still-incredulous sweeping gesture at the Familiars. “After you, Lady Shoots-a-lot.”

Homura's lips quirked up, then she went serious again, stepped forward, and methodically sprayed bullets at the turnip heads. Several exploded, leaving only four. She lowered the gun so its muzzle faced the ground. “Go.”

The two sisters leapt forward. Karin sliced Familiars in half with her katana while Yuzu lashed out with her whip, turned sideways as she jerked the Familiars to her, and bashed in their heads with the butt of her whip by slamming it backwards as each creature flew toward her.

As the last Familiars disintegrated, Karin gleefully crowed, “Sweet.”

The girls continued through the subway tunnels, using the same strategy every time they came to a subway station. As they progressed, each station housed more Familiars and butterflies than the last and the scent of jacaranda flowers became much more cloying. After more than half an hour, they came out of a curve in the tunnel and saw that the next archway was larger and far more ornate, indecipherable runes etched in the bricks.

“This is it,” said Yuzu.

The trio carefully approached the tunnel exit and peeked around its sides. Before them was an enormous brick chamber. Instead of a subway platform, the cavern housed a sprawling train switch yard with tracks that snaked around and into adjacent tunnels. There was more variance in the size of the clocks on the walls, ranging from pocket watches to cuckoo clocks to ornate grandfather clocks. Around the perimeter of the cavern were the trunks of jacaranda trees which formed a fragrant lavender canopy over the room and branched out into the tunnels. Crystalline high-heeled shoes filled with burning embers dangled from the branches and glowed like lanterns. A huge bell was suspended from the very center of the ceiling. Beneath the bell, all the various train rails converged into a train turntable. The areas between the tracks were studded with randomly-placed pumpkins connected by vines made of wire. Upon the center point of the entire room sat the Witch.

The Witch's base was a huge jack-o'-lantern that took up most of the space on the turntable. An over-sized vintage plaster mannequin was affixed to the top of the jack-o'-lantern from the hips up, lifeless eyes staring vacantly. A gauzy black ballroom skirt flowed down from its waist and encircled the pumpkin base except for the glowing jack-o'-lantern face; jacaranda flowers decorated its waist. It wore a black bodice and its stiff arms were covered with black elbow gloves. Atop its head sat the cut-out lid of the jack-o'-lantern, its thick stem making it resemble a top hat. A mourning veil trailed down from the pumpkin-hat. The entire ensemble was completed with an upside-down pair of painted lady butterfly wings at the mannequin's back. The Witch was not facing the girls directly, but was turned about fifteen degrees away from them.

The Witch was surrounded by a different sort of Familiar than the turnip-headed fairy conductors. Clockwork creatures made of bare gears and metal whirled around the floor of the chamber in an intricate waltz. The vaguely-female Familiars bore short pseudo-skirts made of jacaranda branches trailing flowers; their partners wore pumpkin-lid top hats on their heads. Their dancing carried them around the rail yard pumpkin patch without tripping.

“Okay,” Karin began, matter-of-fact. “We know the dancing thingies can make their hands turn into bayonet-things to slice with. They keep spinning so the room may as well be a gauntlet. We didn't manage to get to the actual Witch last time so we have no clue what it— she— does.”

Homura hummed in consideration as she surveyed the cavern. This Witch was living up to her expectations of trickiness and complexity. Technically speaking, she could freeze time and walk right up to the Witch and kill it. That wouldn't give her any intel on how well the twins fought, though. After all, Walpurgisnacht was formidable and had its own army of Familiars. She settled on reducing the number of combatants, observing the sisters' performance in mêlée combat, then seeing how well she could work with them to take out the Witch.

Homura ducked back into the tunnel, followed by the sisters. Karin and Yuzu watched curiously as she set down the machine gun and rummaged in her shield. Homura pulled out her hand and made a neat stack of ammunition belts for the machine gun. That done, she dipped into her hoard and pushed a frag grenade at Karin. “Here.”

Karin grabbed it automatically, then gaped at it with undisguised dread. “UH.”

Yuzu stared at the grenade in her sister's hands, then squeaked when Homura pressed one into her hands as well. “W-w-what are we supposed to do with these?”

Homura blandly arched an eyebrow, palming a third grenade for herself. “Attack the Familiars, of course.”

Karin was stuck on, “UHHH.”

“But— but we've never even seen these in real life!” Yuzu squealed in dismay.

“It is quite simple,” Homura began. She then gave them a quick lesson on their use. “Now, we will enter the chamber; one of you will go left, one of you will go right, and I will take the center. We will enhance our speed with magic, go as far from the entrance as we can in one jump, throw the grenades, then jump back to the doorway for cover before the grenades detonate. Then we can form a united front to defend this doorway. We can save some energy and let the Familiars come to us. They will be easier to hit if they group up. I will use the machine gun to take out more, then we can go for mêlée combat.”

“Good plan,” Karin said. “We just can't lose track of which door to run back to.” She had a point— there were dozens of identical arches around the cavern.

Homura hummed, absently shoved her grenade at Yuzu (who squealed), reached into her shield, and pulled out two little red spheres with fuses.

“What are those, cherry bombs?” asked Karin.

“No. They are colored smoke bombs you can get from firework stands. I got a lot to use as signals with my friends.” It seemed so long ago, now. Homura carefully stepped outside the arch, set a smoke bomb about fifteen feet away on either side of the door, lit them, and retreated.

As Homura retrieved her grenade from Yuzu, Karin asked, “Why so far from the door?”

Homura smoothed her hair behind her ears and calmly explained, “If they were any closer, we would be blinded or choked by the smoke. Having two lets you aim between the two points if you get confused out in battle.”

“Oh!” Yuzu said with understanding. “Like when you're swimming at the beach and they put up flags so you know where the edges of bad currents are so you stay in the safe water!”

Homura had never actually been swimming in the ocean, so she just shrugged and agreed. It made Yuzu more confident to know something and sounded reasonable enough. “Are you ready?”

The Kurosaki sisters fiddled around with their grenades, obviously reciting Homura's lesson in their heads. Karin took a deep breath and looked up with a grimly determined grin. “Let's do it!” Yuzu nodded agreement, face drawn in concentration.

“On three,” said Homura. Each of the girls got her grenade ready. “One... two... three!”

The girls launched themselves from the door with the magical girl version of flash step. They landed, pulled the pins and lobbed the grenades, then immediately spun and dashed for their door. The concussive blast of three nearly simultaneous explosions made them stumble on entry. Homura kept moving through it, picking up and readying her machine gun as the sisters yelped. All three girls surveyed the cavern as the smoke from their grenades dispersed.

“Awesome,” Karin marveled while her sister's eyes went wide in disbelief.

There were three large craters spread around the half of the chamber directly in front of them. Pumpkin fragments and twisted metal remnants of Familiars were strewn all about. About a third of the Familiars had been destroyed. Others staggered around, damaged. The intricate waltz they had been engaged in fell apart into spinning chaos. The sisters grinned a bit smugly as they readied their weapons for whatever the retaliation would be.

GONG!

The huge bell at the apex of the chamber pealed out once, deafeningly loud. A series of clunking, squeaking, and grinding sounds heralded the slow, clockwise rotation of the central turntable. The Witch was turning to face the girls.

“Uh... this seems... bad,” Karin commented.

“It didn't do that last time,” Yuzu said uncertainly.

Homura scowled as the turntable jolted to a stop with a loud clunk. The Witch's mannequin arms rose as stiffly as a doll's. The remaining Familiars straightened, transformed their hands into bayonets en masse, and whirled toward the girls.

“I'm going with yeah, pretty damn bad,” Karin said urgently.

Homura gave a quiet hmph and brought the gun to bear. Karin didn't have a chance to sass at her before their tunnel was filled with the reverberating sound and flashing of rapid gunfire as Homura mowed down the charging Familiars. The twins flinched and clapped their hands to their ears.

When Homura paused to reload while Yuzu threw up a glowing shield made of three interlocked magic circles, Karin snarled, “Dammit, Homura, give a girl some warning before you shoot a fucking machine gun like right next to her ears!”

Homura snapped the ammo tray closed. “My apologies,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.

“Suuure, you're s—”

Karin was cut off by another volley of gunfire. She rolled her eyes powerfully and watched the Familiars falling all over each other in their mindless determination to attack in the face of automatic gunfire.

GONG!

Karin scowled up at the big bell. “The hell?”

As Homura paused to reload again, Karin twisted her fingers in her ears and looked behind them. “Are my ears fucked up or do I hear someth— OH, SHIT!”

Karin and Yuzu turned and desperately fought a gaggle of Familiars which must have gone into other tunnels to approach them from behind. Homura gripped her gun with her left hand and desperately reached into her shield for a grenade. “Behind me!” she screamed. To their credit, the sisters obeyed her immediately. Yuzu was even observant enough to see what she was doing and throw up one of her shields to seal the doorway as soon as Homura's grenade passed her. It focused the resultant explosion entirely against the horde in the tunnel.

GONG!

That was all well and good, but the girls had now been forced out into the open. Plans were discarded as the three formed a circle and focused on taking out as many Familiars as they could. When Homura's Minimi next ran out of ammo, she dropped it, pulled out a Beretta and wielded it left-handed with support from her right for close quarters shooting, then started pulling out and throwing grenades into the surrounding mob with her right hand whenever she reloaded the handgun. Karin attacked the Familiars that approached her with surgical precision, lopping off heads and bladed arms with every swing. Yuzu had a more difficult time in battle, but developed a pattern of snagging enemies' bladed hands together with her whip then hauling them in close so she could kick their heads off their fragile necks with her high-heeled shoes.

GONG!

The girls weren't sure how long the mêlée lasted. It certainly felt like forever. Homura blew through more ordnance and ammo than she ever used against anything save for Walpurgisnacht. A ring of debris from destroyed Familiars gradually piled up around the girls. Instead of getting tall enough to protect them, it simply gave the remaining Familiars a height advantage so they could attack from slightly higher up— where the girls would have more trouble defending.

“We need to move!” shouted Homura.

“Uh, yeah, duh!” Karin replied. “Plans?”

GONG!

“Let's make a run for the wall,” panted Yuzu. “We can have the wall at our backs.”

“Let's choose one the creeptastic Witch isn't facing,” Karin added. “Dunno what fresh hell she's gonna unleash.”

Homura surveyed the wider area next time she threw a grenade, analyzing everything. “Let's go to the wall ninety degrees to the Witch's left.”

“You got a reason for that?” asked Karin as she lopped off yet another clockwork head.

After emptying another magazine into the faces of the attacking automatons, Homura said, “A guess. The Witch spun clockwise and has a clock theme. If it can only turn clockwise, we will have more time to react to it moving.”

Yuzu made a sound of understanding and Karin laughed. “We got a smartypants over here, Yuz!”

“I'm not complaining!” Yuzu cheered as she kicked in another face.

“I could be wrong,” Homura hedged after her latest grenade exploded.

“Only one way to find out!” shouted Karin. “Ready?”

Homura and Yuzu sharply answered, “Yes!”

“On three! One... two... three!”

The magical girls jumped to the top of the pile of clockwork parts, flared their magic around them in a brief aura to push back their attackers, and flash-stepped to the wall in question. They pressed their backs to the wall and took the opportunity to catch their breath while the minions whirled in directionless confusion at their disappearance.

GONG!

The automatons paused, straightened, then spun toward the girls' new position.

“Faaaaantastic!” Karin drawled. She rolled her shoulders and got in a ready position. “Round three. Bring it!”

It was easier to fight with their backs to the wall— no worry that the fighter behind them could miss something and let them get hit in the back. Homura stood between and slightly farther out than the sisters then pulled out a second FN Minimi. She sprayed a deluge of bullets at the Familiars with the pre-loaded gun, then stepped back and let the sisters pick off enemies while she fed the machine gun another ammunition belt. The twins would step back when Homura gave a sharp shout to announce she was ready to shoot again.

GONG!

Once again, a deep series of clunking and grinding drew their attention to the Witch. Its turntable had begun to rotate again.

“Clockwise,” Karin said with amusement. “Well, I'll be damned.”

“You're great at this, Homura!” Yuzu gushed.

“You would have figured it out yourselves,” Homura demurred.

Karin snorted with self-deprecation. “Maybe if we miraculously wiped out a ton of Familiars before we could get worn out. And I do mean miraculously. I've never seen a Witch with this many Familiars before. Well, so many dangerous Familiars.”

In the next few minutes of harried but comfortable teamwork, Homura fleetingly wondered what fate befell the sisters in all the previous timelines. Considering the state of their Soul Gems when she met them and how this particular Witch seemed to finally be something too big for them to handle by themselves....

That train of thought was shoved to the back of her mind.

GONG!

“Oh my God, will you SHUT UP with the bell!” Karin snarled at the labyrinth in general.

When they had whittled down the Familiars to about three dozen, Homura said, “Ideas for attacking the Witch?” Satisfied with the sisters' teamwork and performance against Familiars since Walpurgisnacht's tended to space themselves out more than the ones in this labyrinth, she wanted to see how well they did against a Witch.

“If I can get up top of that big pumpkin I could slice the doll part either down the middle or across the waist,” Karin offered after a minute of glancing at the Witch between enemies.

“We need to be careful,” Yuzu said. “We don't know what kind of attacks it uses— or even if the doll part is a decoy. What if the Witch is really inside the jack-o'-lantern?”

“Right,” Karin said tersely. After another minute of thought, she offered, “How about I try to get up and attack the doll, and you and Homura cover me? Yuzu, be ready to shield or snag me, and Homura, be ready to shoot at any surprises. Sound good?”

Homura and Yuzu agreed.

GONG!

It only took a few more minutes to wipe out the last of the Familiars. The girls took a minute to catch their breath while Homura switched her machine gun for a semiautomatic rifle. They watched the Witch's steady progress as the turntable rotated. With some nodding and pointing to coordinate their attack, Yuzu stayed where she was while Karin and Homura ran to their left. Homura stopped when she was directly to the Witch's right side; Karin kept running until she was directly behind the Witch. Once in place, she got into a ready position and nodded at Homura. Homura looked to Yuzu; she also nodded her readiness. Homura pointed her rifle toward a tunnel off to one side so her signal shot wouldn't rebound and hit anyone, then fired the gun like a starting pistol. Karin took off at a sprint and leapt up toward the pumpkin.

GONG!

The bell clanged again when Karin's foot made contact with the jack-o'-lantern's upper curve. By the time she had taken a second step and swung her katana, the mannequin's arms had dropped ninety degrees to be parallel to the ground— one in front and one in back— and long serrated blades popped out all along the length of its arms. Then the entire mannequin rapidly spun clockwise at the waist even as the turntable remained slow.

Yuzu's three-ring shield snapped into existence to Karin's right even as she kicked herself into a vertical jump in an attempt to avoid the blades. The leading edge of the front blade struck the shield and jarred to a halt, snapping the arm off in the process. Karin turned the falling velocity of her jump into a downward attack toward the mannequin's head, but the jacaranda branches around its waist shot up and extended in a counter-strike. Eyes wide, Karin slashed at the branches. While she did cut some, others grabbed her ankle and threw her away so hard that the brick wall of the cavern cracked around her impact.

GONG!

Homura aimed for the mannequin's head and shot several bursts. The plaster cracked, but the jack-o'-lantern lid top hat slid to the side of the head that faced Homura and acted as a shield. The turntable continued to rotate. Homura scowled.

“Karin!” Yuzu shouted.

Karin staggered to her feet, still glowing from flaring her magic to soften the blow then heal some of the damage. “I'm good, I'm good!” she wheezed.

The turntable and jack-o'-lantern ground to a loud halt with a sound like the tumblers of an old lock clunking into place.

GONG!

The Witch's mouth dropped open like a marionette's and uttered a train-whistle-like wail. Hundreds of glowing glass shoe lanterns exploded simultaneously, showering shards of glass and blazing embers in every direction and plunging the cavern into darkness lit only by the face of the jack-o'-lantern and the multitude of butterflies which began to glow orange as they wafted among the jacarandas at the ceiling. The girls all held their arms to their faces to protect their eyes from the unusual shrapnel. The shards hadn't all hit the ground yet when the cavern was filled with echoing sounds of cracking, booming, and tearing. When they opened their eyes, the girls found that the train tracks that crisscrossed the switch yard were being ripped up from the ground, curling and flailing around the Witch like tentacles.

“Now would be a good time for a Plan B!” Karin screamed urgently.

Homura frowned hard as the rails curved around the Witch in an intricate, spiraling cage. This was one of the most complex Witches she had ever fought. I may actually need to stop time and take it out myself, she thought.

The Witch raised its remaining arm. The bell at the apex of the chamber pealed over and over as the mannequin dropped its arm like a guillotine. The train tracks around it made the sound of metal against metal and shot railroad spikes in every direction with the speed of a machine gun. The ping! of shattering glass reached Homura's ears just before she stopped time. Pain radiated from the multiple wounds spikes had left behind where she had been shot, only two still lodged in her body. Okay, she could manage that.

Homura looked around and discovered that though her wounds were not grievous, she had still reacted an instant too late: The pieces of Yuzu's Soul Gem were frozen in the midst of supernova, her eyes already empty.

Chapter Text

ZWEIUNDZWANZIG

TIMELINE X+N

Homura stared at the yellow constellation that had been Yuzu's soul in numb disbelief. Witnessing the destruction of a Soul Gem was something that would never become less horrifying with repetition.

She should have stopped time and bombed the Witch out of existence from the start. Then Yuzu wouldn't be... like this. It didn't matter that Yuzu's death would be undone when she next folded time back on itself— that didn't make the here and now any easier to deal with. Homura could have prevented this, but hadn't. She had been too interested in how useful the girls would be in the next timeline. Guilt ate at her and made her feel monstrous.

After a few minutes of staring blankly at Yuzu, Homura turned to Karin. The dark-haired girl had managed to get her arms up, crossed over her face to protect it. Rail spikes and wounds studded her body— three in her arms, one in her ribs, another straight through the area just above her left hip. Generally, injuries a magical girl should have little trouble recovering from. Homura glanced back to the other side of the room. Yuzu's death was going to be the most critical wound and there was nothing she could do about it.

Homura blinked owlishly and looked down at herself. She removed the spikes from her left shoulder and right thigh in absolute detachment, absently holding them out to one side and letting them go to hang in place as she scrubbed at blood that had trickled into her eye from a head wound. Homura looked around at the many rail spikes frozen in midair between her and Karin as she let her magic heal the worst of her wounds. After a long minute of thought, she reached into her shield and retrieved the old golf club that had been her first weapon. She slowly made her way to Karin by tapping individual spikes to allow them to continue on their trajectory— physical contact with Homura, even indirect, negated the time-freezing spell. It took forever to get to Karin, but it was an acceptable if inadequate penance. She made the spikes that had already passed Karin finish their journeys into the ground and wall, then stared at Karin as she debated what to do.

Homura finally pursed her lips and grabbed Karin's shoulders. Karin's scream continued from where it had left off until Homura tugged her backwards.

“W-what? What?” Karin blinked around at all the rail spikes paused in mid-flight. “What? H-Homura?”

Homura physically forced Karin to turn and face her and the wall. “My power is actually to stop time,” she murmured as she plucked spikes from Karin's arms and made sure to maintain physical contact.

“That's a thing?” Karin asked in a daze. She stared at her arm wounds as her magic worked to heal them.

“Yes. And time will freeze for you again if you stop touching me.”

“Oh. Okay,” Karin said, looking pretty sure that having a railroad spike pried out of her hip should hurt a lot more than her magic was letting her feel. It reminded Homura of the face Madoka had made in the early timeline in which Homura had to pry an ice skate out of her bel—

Stop. Stop. Stop.

Karin blinked dazedly. “Oh. Did you help Yuzu already?”

Homura paused, face bent and obscured by her hair. After a long silence, Homura heavily said, “There is nothing I can do for Yuzu.” It sounded like an admission of guilt.

“What's that mean?!” Karin asked urgently. She wheeled about and sought out her sister.

Even from a distance, it was obvious that Yuzu's Soul Gem had exploded. A railroad spike hovered perhaps a centimeter from the now-empty brooch at her throat. Homura knew that the pretty battle costume would evaporate as soon as she let time resume.

The raw sound of anguish that left Karin's throat would haunt Homura's nightmares.

Karin tried to dash to her sister, but froze as soon as she moved away from Homura. Homura chewed her lip, slid in front of Karin, and caught her after tapping her to let time resume for her. Karin fought to get past her, screaming her sister's name. Homura hugged her hard, at a loss. “Shh. Shh. I'll take you to her. I'll take you. Hold my hand.”

Karin keened but took her hand and allowed herself to be led like a child. Homura bent to retrieve her golf club and navigated the cavern as she guided Karin behind her. When they finally neared Yuzu, Homura again made the spikes around and behind her finish their trajectories. Karin fell to her knees next to her sister, still holding Homura's hand. They both stared at Yuzu, whose final expression was one of surprise. Karin gingerly reached out and grabbed the yellow frills that waterfalled out from the tails of her sister's costume.

Time immediately resumed for Yuzu. The spikes that had been going through her waist and knee rocketed out behind her and froze as soon as they cleared Yuzu's body. The frills turned into light and disintegrated in Karin's hand as Yuzu began to fall backwards. The body froze again, so Karin crawled closer and wrapped her free arm around her sister's waist. Yuzu's body finally fell against Karin, who took one look at her sister's dead eyes and wailed.

Homura let go of Karin, unable to bear the sound. She simply stood in place for awhile, covering her face with her hands and breathing.

This was her fault. She should have been faster. Should have been more aggressive with the Witch. Should've should've should've. Always should've.

Homura forced herself into blankness and turned to face the Witch. Her face slowly shifted into cold fury. She backtracked through the path she had made, then used the golf club to navigate to the turntable. After a long, calculating glare, she started retrieving things from her storage.

Pipe bombs and glass bottles filled with kerosene lobbed into all the jack-o'-lantern openings. Grenades thrown up at the mannequin. Multiple RPGs fired up at the distant ceiling because seriously, fuck that bell. Three ammunition belts worth of bullets from her machine gun aimed at the mannequin's head. Pipe bombs all around the base of the giant pumpkin and its cage of rails.

Homura was well aware that she was engaging in overkill, but she didn't give a damn. The thing had killed Yuzu. Kind Yuzu with a loving soul like Madoka's. Homura wanted to blow up everything.

Homura stalked back to Karin and positioned herself between the girl and the oncoming railroad spikes, then lifted her shield to a defensive stance, flared her magic around her in a violet flash, and allowed time to resume. Karin's wailing was punctuated by the staccato clangs of spikes ricocheting off Homura's shield before it was completely drowned out by a cascading series of explosions. The destruction of the jack-o'-lantern was grimly satisfying, but the labyrinth didn't waver until the RPGs reached their target and shattered the bell with a deafening clang.

Turned out Yuzu was right to worry about a decoy: The actual Witch— or perhaps the Witch's core?— was the bell. Of course it was. Homura could have walked into the chamber, fired RPGs at the bell, and been done with the whole mess without even fighting the Familiars. Bitter anger made her blood boil, made her pulse rush in her ears. Of course. Of course. Yuzu was dead for nothing. Just another failure to enter in her ledger of screw-ups.

Homura shielded Karin until the labyrinth completely collapsed, then slowly lowered her shield when she found herself back in the train underpass. She dispassionately caught the Grief Seed as it drifted down from above.

Karin had devolved into quieter keening, rocking her dead twin's body. Homura faltered, then approached her and gently lay a hand on her shoulder. She didn't bother trying to say anything— Homura knew better than anyone that there were no words that could relieve her grief. They remained like that for several minutes as Karin slowly came to her senses. Homura was startled when the girl sat up, scrubbed her face, and looked determined. She shuffled around, slid her arms around her sister, and lifted her into a fireman's carry as she stood and looked both angry and desperate.

“What are you doing?” Homura asked hesitantly.

Karin shifted Yuzu's weight on her shoulders. “I'm taking Yuzu to Urahara. He'll help her.”

“Karin... Karin, she's gone,” Homura said quietly. “Her Soul Gem—”

“Urahara's smart and knows soul stuff. He'll bring her back.”

There was something wild in her eyes that worried Homura, but she didn't have time to think about it before Karin took off, flash-stepping in the direction of Urahara Shop. All she could do was follow the girl across the rooftops, Grief Seed gripped tightly in her palm.

She had a dreadful feeling this was going to get very messy very fast.

A meeting convened in the Urahara Shop early in the afternoon. Kisuke, Hitsugaya, Ichigo, and Isshin gathered around the table in the back room to discuss the mystery of Mitakihara and Homura Akemi while Tessai and the kids minded the shop. Yoruichi perched on her usual cushion in cat form, observing them all.

“What've you got, Kisuke?” Isshin began.

Kisuke tapped his closed fan on the edge of the table. “Something several magnitudes more complex than I initially suspected,” he said.

“That's not ominous at all,” Yoruichi said drily.

“First, I would like to note that if you haven't been keeping up-to-date with the news out of Mitakihara, you should know that at least four disappearances have happened since Miss Akemi traveled to Karakura: one girl in Shinchi and three girls in Asunaro. Therefore, I am less inclined to believe she is involved with whatever force is causing the incidents. I'm keeping my mind open to that possibility, though, as we have no way of knowing if she has defected from a larger group of accomplices.”

Ichigo and Isshin frowned disapprovingly, but didn't say anything. Everyone else remained neutral.

“Now that that's out of the way, I'll get into particulars,” Kisuke continued. “After exhausting the information from human sources, I requested data on the area from Twelfth Division. My initial suspicion was that, given the population growth in the Mitakihara metropolitan area in the last thirty years, the spiritual density of the area should be about mid-level— on an exponential scale, of course— but that the presence of so many teenagers with spiritual abilities might indicate that some force was artificially inflating the density figures there. However, the data proved my hypothesis completely wrong. Instead, density figures remained only slightly higher than they were when the area was first settled after wetland drainage and land reclamation. This should be impossible given the length of time humans have been gathering there in significant numbers. There should be a natural if slow increase in density as more souls gather in one place and influence one another into spiritual strengthening, no matter how minor. I suspect that something is artificially depressing the spiritual density while selectively allowing individual spiritual growth. This is quite a contradictory situation— when a soul strengthens beyond a certain threshold, it begins to slightly affect the souls around it via... a form of unconscious resistance training, if you will. Multiple individuals demonstrating spiritual awareness should indicate a gradual cascade of spiritual strength through the community. That's not happening. Selective strengthening without spillover implies direct interference, though I currently do not know what form that interference would take.”

“Something Hollow, though, right?” asked Ichigo. “I'm no expert but the way Homura described that Sayaka girl sounded like she Hollowfied.”

“That is the second conundrum, yes,” Kisuke admitted. “Though it cannot be declared with any certainty that the interference itself is Hollow in nature, something about the procedure appears to be related to Hollowfication.”

Isshin narrowed his eyes and grimly said, “You're thinking an experiment like Aizen used to do.”

Like the one Isshin himself had interrupted and become entangled in the night Masaki Kurosaki saved his life.

“Possibly,” Kisuke said quietly. “There is a certain strangeness about it all. My scan of Miss Akemi did detect the Hollow-like residue that you described, Isshin, but the readings don't quite match the known range of Hollows. All measurements are slightly more... intense.”

Ichigo scowled. “Meaning?”

“The energy is Hollow, yet not quite Hollow at the same time. Something a bit different.”

“What kind of difference?” asked Hitsugaya.

“It's hard to say,” Kisuke hedged. “Moving back to Miss Miki, the description certainly did sound like a Plus gradually declining into a Hollow state.”

“But she was alive,” said Hitsugaya. “That should only be possible if a Chain of Fate is detached from the body, correct?”

“True,” said Kisuke. “However, we have no way of knowing whether or not her Chain of Fate was intact. We do know her soul maintained its basic structure because she was reportedly able to fight the Mitakihara 'monsters' with her 'magic'. When taken in the context of complete Hollowfication at a later point and her only beginning to fight a few weeks ago, one can infer that she manifested powers akin to a shinigami or Fullbringer via some form of outside modification.”

Isshin raised his eyebrows. “Are you implying something may be trying to artificially create living shinigami like Ichigo?”

“Perhaps,” said Kisuke. “Hypothetically speaking, someone could try to create living shinigami by severing the Chain of Fate of a spiritually aware person and forcing the soul to cope or go Hollow, thus forming a shinigami-Hollow hybrid. Probability would lean toward most subjects going Hollow. Perhaps their aim is to to create Hollows which could cause mayhem while partially disguised within a human body. I do know that this hypothetical entity can't be using the Hollow soul transfusion procedure Aizen used to experiment upon the original Visored unless they have a mediatory artifact similar to the Hōgyoku— without a counter, souls subjected to a Hollow transfusion slip into Soul Suicide. I would lean toward them not having such an artifact unless they are grossly incompetent at using it, though— Aizen was able to turn Tōsen into a flawless hybrid, after all.”

“Someone could be making mistakes learning how to use such an artifact,” Hitsugaya suggested.

“True,” Kisuke allowed. “However, the gradual decline seems to imply that the Hollowfication is not a sudden process as when the Hōgyoku or transfusion is used. I only have anecdotal evidence to go on, though. I will say that whatever hypothetical entity conducting whatever hypothetical experiment is knowledgeable enough to target young girls as they approach spiritual maturity. Their souls enter a period of being extremely malleable and adaptable to change at that point, which most girls experience within a similar age window. It's more difficult to pinpoint when individual boys will hit spiritual maturity."

“Girls approaching spiritual maturity may also be easier to convince to do things just by virtue of being younger,” Yoruichi commented. “Boys tend to be older when they mature spiritually. Even a couple extra years could lend them just enough life experience to be warier. Whoever or whatever is doing this may be capable of appearing innocuous or trustworthy to a young girl.” She cocked her head. “On the other hand, they could be intimidating and coercive to young girls.”

“Reasonable,” Kisuke admitted after a moment's thought. He carefully switched gears. “All of this conjecture is, of course, based upon taking Miss Akemi's testimony largely at face value. And I am certain that she is at the very least hiding details.”

Ichigo scowled. “What makes you say that?”

Kisuke tented his fingers and considered his words. He had to tread lightly; it looked like Ichigo had already taken the girl under his wing. Kisuke prepared to face obstinate defense from him. “I have experience with interrogation and reading people from my time in Second Division. She was very careful with her words. Most obvious was her evasion of actually describing one of her monsters. That was a skillful deflection. I do know she was outright lying about how much experience she has using her powers.”

Hitsugaya raised his eyebrows, Ichigo continued scowling, and Isshin nodded. “I have to agree with that one,” Isshin said. “The way she casually healed herself without even looking at the wound told me as much— there's no way she could master that in a month or two. She also showed little reaction to having wounded herself or feeling pain.”

“Yes, and I've seen her fight twice,” Kisuke continued. “As I told Yoruichi, she is very polished and controlled. Also tactically intelligent. In addition, I have seen her manifest a weapon.”

Everyone around the table expressed surprise.

“What kind of weapon?” asked Hitsugaya.

“Oddly enough, a buckler,” said Kisuke. “A small shield attached to her left forearm. She used it offensively as a bludgeon. What I find even more interesting is that she manifests it from a ring on her left hand, but that ring can also turn into an object I have yet to identify. It looks like a large, egg-shaped amethyst set in a gold stand. I followed her after she left the library— which I think she is using as a ruse to get away from you, Isshin. She wanders along the railway corridor, holding this egg and watching it like a compass or sensor of some kind.” Kisuke looked around the table and debated whether or not to mention to Kurosaki girls' involvement. He decided against it because he didn't know if Ichigo in particular could feign ignorance if he knew his sisters might be in danger. Kisuke didn't want to show his hand to the girls just yet. “I suspect she is looking for a curious rift in the spiritual structure of the world—”

“What the hell does that mean?” Ichigo asked skeptically.

“Let me back up. The other day I sensed her reiatsu wandering around and suddenly disappear. Concerned for her safety, I sought her in the general area of where I sensed her last. Finally, I resorted to using a sensor to look for anomalies in the area. I had just discovered... a sort of weakness in reality complete with visual distortion of light, if you will, when Miss Akemi suddenly appeared at the site and the weakness disappeared.”

Isshin stared at him grimly. Kisuke had been vague about what he had seen that day. He knew the father had just confirmed that his daughters were directly involved in the mess. Isshin kept his mouth shut after glancing at his son, though.

“Again: What do you mean by weakness in reality?” asked Ichigo.

“Imagine the spiritual energy of the world as a cloth. Doorways into and out of it such as senkaimon and Garganta are like holes with zippers that can be open and shut. This felt like a portion of said cloth... hmm. You know how when you wear a pin or button, there is often an apparent hole when you remove it? But then it usually closes up as you wear the clothes and the threads shift back into place?” Ichigo nodded hesitantly. “That's what this felt like in the aftermath. That there had been a hole and it was shifting shut. An additional oddity was the faint presence of Hollow-like reiatsu at the site of the anomaly.”

After a long silence in which everyone processed the explanation, Yoruichi asked, “That begs three questions, really: One, why would she be looking for such a thing? Two: Why and how does she disappear at the anomaly? And three: If this thing she's looking for is similar to what she knows from Mitakihara, why haven't we noticed anything in our own back yard?”

“The first question, I am unable to answer, though I would like to think Miss Akemi is trying to counter whatever is going on,” answered Kisuke. “The second, I only had a brief time to feel the anomaly, but I would guess that it is a doorway like a Garganta, though I do not know where it would lead. As for the third, I did some research.” Kisuke tapped his fan on a small stack of notes. “While there haven't been cases of missing or mysteriously dead girls in Karakura, there have been several brief periods during which similar suicides or deaths occur. For example, eight months ago there were four drownings in the same bend of the river in two weeks. The past two months have seen three suicides and four pedestrian accidents along the railway corridor in Karakura and the cities directly to the east and west of us. The two survivors don't remember the time leading up to their injuries.”

“And Homura is searching by the train tracks,” Isshin said heavily.

There was a lull in conversation as everyone mulled over the information and guesswork.

“An expedition was dispatched to Mitakihara on Monday, was it not?” asked Hitsugaya. “Has Twelfth relayed any information to you?”

“...About that,” Kisuke hedged.

Everyone looked at him with varying degrees of dread. Ichigo muttered, “That doesn't sound good.”

“Yes. Well.” Kisuke cleared his throat. “The original research party consisted of Department Head Rin Tsubokura and two unseated soldiers from Thirteenth Division as escorts.”

“The 'original' party?” Yoruichi asked morbidly.

“While they made their scheduled reports on Monday through Wednesday afternoon, they failed to make the next three scheduled reports. Third Seat Akon broadcast a signal to activate the emergency beacons in their Soul Phones, but was unable to connect with any of them. Attempts to contact them via Hell Butterfly also failed.”

“Ohhh, shiiiiit,” Ichigo said grimly.

Isshin tiredly scrubbed a hand over his face. “Reaction?”

Kisuke tapped his fan against his chin. “Yesterday, Captain Ukitake and Lieutenant Kuchiki deployed to Mitakihara with Third Seat Akon to perform reconnaissance and attempt retrieval.”

Ichigo had opened his mouth to ask a question when the back door was kicked in and Karin hurtled into the room in a strange red costume, then crashed onto the table and dropped Yuzu next to her. Kneeling on the table, she lunged forward and grabbed Kisuke's black haori in both hands and desperately shrieked, “HELP HER!”

Everyone looked down at Yuzu as Akemi silently landed on the back porch and watched dolefully. Yuzu was in her middle school sailor uniform, which was normal. Not normal were the multiple large puncture wounds around her body and the glassy, vacant look in her open eyes.

Isshin and Ichigo shot up to their knees and yelled, “Yuzu!” while Hitsugaya and Yoruichi stared at the body with wide eyes.

Isshin shuffled to the end of the table, sat on it sideways, and reached for his daughter's face. He lightly slapped her cheek a few times. “Yuzu! Yuzu, sweetheart, can you hear me? Yuzu, Daddy's here, I'll help you, I'll help you, it's okay, baby, it's okay.” He continued to ramble and search her for an obvious life-threatening injury. When he found none and noticed she wasn't breathing, he shifted position and started chest compressions. “Ichigo!”

Years of assisting in a clinic had Ichigo slide into place to do rescue breathing before he could even think about it through his shock.

Karin shook Kisuke again when he didn't respond. “DO SOMETHING!”

Kisuke knew what he would find even before he reached around Karin and hovered a hand over Yuzu's upper chest, but he initiated the diagnostic kidō anyway. Finding no soul, he glanced at the other people in the room before looking back to the Kurosaki family's feverish attempts to revive their youngest. With a heavy heart, he quietly said, “I'm sorry. She's gone.”

“No! No, she's not!” Ichigo yelled between breaths, tears streaming down his cheeks. “C'mon, Yuzu!”

“No, no, come on, baby, come on,” Isshin said in a faltering voice as his compressions became less professional and he started to choke on tears. “Please, baby. Please come back. Come back to Daddy.”

Kisuke reached around Karin to put a hand on Isshin's shoulder. Gently, he said, “Isshin. You can tell her soul isn't in her body. I'm sorry, but she's gone.”

Isshin gave up on compressions and threw himself across his daughter, howling in grief. Ichigo fell back jerkily, sitting hard a bit away from the table like an abandoned marionette. He stared at his little sister's unseeing eyes in paralyzed horror. Yoruichi, Hitsugaya, and Akemi helplessly watched the family tragedy unfolding before their eyes.

“NOOO!” Karin shrieked madly as she clawed at Kisuke. “YOU'RE LYING! YOU'RE LYING! SHE'S RIGHT HERE! HELP HER!”

Kisuke drew back his hand to place it on Karin's shoulder, worried about her hysterical rage. “I'm so sorry, Karin. There's nothing I can do.”

Karin half-crawled, half-flailed back across the table and staggered to her feet. She took a few steps, tangled her hands in her hair, squeezed her head, and screamed. And screamed. And screamed. Hitsugaya scrambled to his feet and stepped to her side, hands awkwardly fluttering over her before settling on her shoulders and squeezing. If Karin noticed, she didn't respond. She just kept screaming, eyes wide and unfocused.

Tessai, Jinta, and Ururu charged into the back room, ready for battle. They took in the tableau in a single glance and gasped. Jinta stumbled forward, moaning, “No, no, no, no, no.”

Kisuke turned to the ruined doorway and fixed a calculating stare on the bloodied girl from Mitakihara, who was standing clutching something that felt like concentrated Hollow reishi while wearing a strange purple and white costume with that odd little shield on one arm. Her face and reiatsu were overflowing with regret. He waited for her to look at him, then evenly asked, “What happened?”

Akemi frowned, pursed her lips, and opened her mouth. Then she startled and darted her eyes over to the remaining Kurosaki sister. “Karin! Your Soul Gem!”

Kisuke looked Karin's way and saw Hitsugaya turn to him with wide eyes full of alarm as Karin began to radiate Hollow reiatsu. Akemi hurried to Karin and grabbed her arms to force the girl to face her. A strawberry-shaped jewel on Karin's forehead shimmered with red and black energy.

“Stay still!” Akemi cried, holding up a small black jewel set in silver. “I'll purify—!”

Karin smacked Akemi's hand away and screeched, “NO!”

Akemi looked shocked. “What?!”

“NO!” Karin shrugged Hitsugaya's hands from her shoulders and staggered a few steps back until she hit the wall, returning her hands to her head as though holding it together. Her eyes were crazed. “NO!”

“You'll turn!” Akemi yelled desperately.

“I don't care! I don't care! That thing killed Yuzu! I won't touch it! I won't touch it! I don't care! I'd rather die! I'D RATHER DIE!”

Everyone had gone quiet to stare at her, so the series of cracking noises that emanated from Karin were clearly audible. No one managed to even utter her name before the gem at her forehead flared, burst into red and black light, and reformed into an egg-shaped jewel set in tarnished gold. The red costume disintegrated around her, leaving her in her school uniform for a brief instant before her eyes went dull and her body fell slack as the corrupted red jewel exploded.

The sheer force of the explosion and the dark gale it initiated sent the unprepared occupants of the room rocketing backwards. The contents of the room went with them, furniture and tea set and light fixtures shattering against the buckling walls while the people gasped for breath after their impacts. Tessai managed to grab Karin's lifeless body and shelter it from the waves of reiatsu that washed over them all. It was like being caught in a violent hurricane of Hollow reiatsu. It was intense and awful— then suddenly stopped. The group recovered and surveyed their surroundings.

They definitely weren't in Urahara Shop anymore.

Kisuke darted in front of Akemi with shunpo, drew his blade, grabbed her by the wrist that bore her shield and a purple gem which was now shaped like a diamond, and held his blade to her throat in one smooth motion, face hard.

“Explain. Now.”

Homura's mind froze, then immediately switched to racing. Whether or not Urahara knew exactly what he had done, he had effectively nullified her ability to retrieve a weapon or escape from him by freezing time. She was trapped. If she wanted to survive to make another attempt to save Madoka, she might have no choice but to talk.

Chapter Text

DREIUNDZWANZIG

TIMELINE X+N

Kisuke watched the girl's eyes go wide and stare at him with a mix of fear and rapid thoughts of escape that made her actually look as young as she was for once. Curiously, she darted a desperate glance to her shield and tugged at it slightly. He made a point of sliding his hand up a bit to actually grab the shield's strap and tug back, which obviously disturbed her even more. Good. Distasteful as it was to terrify a child, intimidation tended to loosen one's tongue and he didn't have time to play nice.

Around their standoff, the rest of the group got their bearings after the dizzying transition. Jinta and Ururu staggered to their feet and stared at their dim surroundings. Tessai remained kneeling and cradled Karin's body more gently. Hitsugaya's eyes darted all around in search of threats, frequently jumping back to his friend's body. Yoruichi stalked behind Akemi, intent on tracking her if she attempted escape. Ichigo lay on his front and had drawn himself up on his elbows when he saw Karin's head lolling, her vacant eyes staring past him, and completely froze in horror. His mind visibly shut down.

Isshin, however, rolled and crawled upright, looking around. “Where's Yuzu?!” he demanded. “I had her! Where is she?! Yuzu!” He levered himself up and shakily gained his feet. “Where is Yuzu?! Ichigo, have you seen Yuzu and Ka—”

Ichigo turned his face to his father with a distant stare of shock, then turned back toward Tessai. Isshin followed his gaze and saw his second child's lifeless body. He uttered a long, wordless moan and gradually sank back to his knees as he stumbled toward her and gathered her into his lap.

Kisuke gave Akemi half a minute of silence before he shook her shield arm once while squeezing the strap hard, causing it to become uncomfortably tight. Then he tugged downward as though considering tearing it off her arm. “Tell me what just happened,” he ordered in his most authoritative voice.

“I-it's complicated,” Akemi breathed.

“Give me the short version and I'll decide whether that's true,” Kisuke said evenly.

Akemi swallowed hard and glanced over to Karin. This time Kisuke let her stare for a solid minute as the sight of her friend's dead body and devastated family obviously made her waver.

“I'm waiting,” Kisuke finally prompted.

Akemi looked up at him, mouth opening and closing as she grasped for words. Evidently, she decided whatever risk there was in talking was outweighed by the risk of having her throat slit or her weapon stolen. She cringed warily and blurted, “I heard shinigami hunt people like me and Karin and Yuzu. But we were tricked into it, I swear.”

Kisuke raised his eyebrows. In his peripheral vision, he saw everyone turning to stare at them. “And what kind of people are you?”

Akemi looked at him anxiously but straight in the eyes. “Magical girls.”

Silence.

“Come again?” Kisuke asked.

“Magical girls.”

“You're fucking insane,” snarled Jinta.

“Jinta!” Kisuke barked without taking his eyes off the girl. The redhead got the message and backed off. “What are magical girls?” Kisuke asked. Jinta muttered darkly until Ururu silenced him with a kick to his shin.

Akemi swallowed and glanced at the sword. “There is a race called Incubators. They find strong girls— um, spiritually aware girls?— and trick them into making contracts in exchange for granting a wish. If you accept the contract, an Incubator turns your soul into a Soul Gem—” her eyes darted to the amethyst on her hand— “and you can transform and be strong and get a magic weapon. Karin said the Incubator told her it is an imitation of a zan... zan...?”

“Zanpakutō,” Kisuke finished in morbid fascination.

“Yes, that.”

From behind the girl, Yoruichi said, “That doesn't explain what just happened and whatever the hell this place is.”

Akemi tried to look behind her but was too wary of the sword to turn. “When we contract, the Incubator says we have to fight monsters called Witches to pay back our wishes. But it doesn't tell us that if our Soul Gems become too corrupted from fighting or we fall into despair, our Soul Gems turn black and we turn into Witches ourselves.”

After a pause, Kisuke slowly asked, “Are you implying Karin's soul just turned into one of these... Witches?”

“Yes.” Akemi screwed her eyes shut. “I'm sorry. I wasn't fast enough... I should have... stopped....”

There was a long silence as everyone either struggled to believe her or connected some unmentioned dots. Kisuke let go of her and withdrew his blade but didn't sheathe it. “Where are we?”

Akemi pulled her shield arm against her body and fingered the jewel on the back of her hand as though checking it for damage. “The Witch's labyrinth.”

“Which is...?” Yoruichi snapped.

“A kind of... pocket dimension, I suppose. Every one is different. They always have something to do with what was important to the magical girl before she fell. The Witch hides inside. If you do not defeat the Witch, it wanders around spreading its despair and madness—”

“Causing people to feel compelled to commit suicide,” Kisuke extrapolated.

Akemi nodded silently, then hesitantly continued, “Karin's soul was strong. This Witch could claim a lot of victims. We need to defeat it before it runs away.”

Kisuke quietly said, “You mean 'put her out of her misery'?”

Akemi looked away from the echo of her own words.

Frowning in thought, Hitsugaya cleared his throat. When he had their attention, he asked, “What happens when you 'defeat' a Witch? Are they purified like a defeated Hollow?” His voice rose with tentative hope at the end.

Akemi looked down at her feet. “No. The Witch's labyrinth and body disappear. All that is left is the Soul Gem. But it turns black and becomes a Grief Seed instead.” She opened her hand to show them the object she had been clutching the entire time. “They cannot be purified.”

Kisuke reached over and gingerly took the black and silver spindle from her. He felt her watching him hold it up and scrutinize the fine details of the silver filigree, but he was preoccupied by the thoughts rushing through his mind. “What do you do with them, then?” Kisuke asked with some distraction. When Akemi didn't answer immediately, he looked at her. She was the picture of reluctance. Everyone began to look like they dreaded her answer. The silence dragged while Akemi refused to look at anyone.

“Homura?” Isshin said hollowly. She hesitantly looked at him. He was holding Karin's body close, face lost. “Please.”

Akemi shifted unhappily. “A Grief Seed can be used to purify a magical girl's Soul Gem of corruption. A few times if it was a strong Witch.”

After another pause, Kisuke prompted, “And then?”

Akemi wet her lips and looked up at him as though both ashamed and angry. “The Incubator eats them, supposedly to convert them into raw energy.”

The unseen black fire that was Ichigo's power flooded the chamber with rage. “WHAT?!”

Akemi flinched, wild eyes seeking him out. Whatever experience she had with spiritual happenings, it seemed she was unused to others throwing their power around when emotional. “Th-that's how it's been for millennia! But Karin and Yuzu—!” She faced Kisuke again. “I didn't think there was any way to do anything else, but when Karin and Yuzu found out they'd been tricked, they said they wanted to tell you, Mr. Urahara— they said they thought you might know how to free the souls... or something.” Akemi looked at her feet, face wretched. “I... I talked them into waiting until after we dealt with something on Sunday because I was worried the shinigami would come after us. I'm sorry.”

After a long, distraught silence shared by everyone in the room, Kisuke calmly said, “So. In summary, there is a race swindling girls into selling their souls for... 'wishes'... so they can farm them and harvest their spiritual energy. Yuzu and Karin fell into the trap and are now at the system's end stage. Defeating the being at the heart of this maze will condense Karin's soul back into a jewel, like this—” he held up the Grief Seed— “at which point I will have an opportunity to help her with my expertise. Correct?”

Akemi blinked up at him, taken aback. “Um, yes.” She looked cautiously hopeful. “You... you think you can do something?”

Kisuke seriously stared at the Grief Seed again, eyes narrowed. “I would need to do some testing and call in some help, but I have some ideas, at least. Do you have any more of these... Grief Seeds, you called them?”

Akemi looked stunned for a minute before her eyes lit up with determination. “I have Sayaka's. It is full because we used it to clean our Gems. Is that okay?”

“Perfect,” he said quietly. He glanced at the others and ordered Tessai to put a stasis kidō on Karin's body to keep it from decomposing. Kisuke then met Akemi's eyes with equal determination. “We can speak of particulars later. It seems our first task is to navigate this dimension and reclaim Karin's soul. I presume you have a good deal of experience in such matters?”

Akemi nodded firmly. “Yes.”

Kisuke tucked the Grief Seed into a pocket and swept his free hand around the room in invitation. “Do advise us, Miss Akemi.”

The girl eyed him a bit suspiciously, but turned to face the others. She was met by a wall of grimly determined faces. Ichigo levered himself to his feet and angrily scrubbed tears from his cheeks. Hitsugaya watched her with heavy-lidded eyes, jaw tight. Isshin's face seemed to be trying for encouragement but failing to pierce his sorrow. Jinta looked sour but was swinging his huge club experimentally while Ururu and Tessai looked grave. Yoruichi sauntered over to Isshin in cat form, expressionlessly sitting near the man who was cradling his daughter's unoccupied body. Akemi just stared at them as though not used to being looked to as an authority on anything— or being taken seriously at all, really. That didn't bode well. She didn't do anything until Kisuke stepped up and rested a hand on her shoulder.

When she looked up at him, Kisuke turned one corner of his mouth upwards in a sympathetic smile. “Start by telling us what to expect.”

“Right,” Akemi faltered. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, then breathed deeply and looked up at the assembled fighters. “Right. Every labyrinth is different. Sometimes the Witch is near the surface, but the Witch usually hides deep within. You can never assume you will not have to fight your way to the center. The Witch...” she frowned, searching for a word. “...Splinters off small pieces of itself to guard the labyrinth. These are called Familiars. They usually have some sort of task. Some are docile, but others will attack. They can take very, very strange forms. For example, I have seen Familiars that were giant cotton balls with black mustaches attached to giant butterflies that acted as their legs. They looked harmless but could manifest thorny vines from their eye sockets. The vines were armed with giant scissors.”

Everyone looked at her weirdly. Akemi shrugged helplessly in reply. Kisuke got the feeling she thought there was no way to communicate the sheer bizarreness they were about to encounter. Ominous.

“When we do reach the center, don't necessarily take the Witch's appearance at face value,” the girl continued. “Some are simple, but sometimes Witches have multiple stages or employ decoys.” Akemi bit her lip. “The Witch the three of us were fighting before... we thought it was the mannequin stuck into a giant jack-o'-lantern that was spinning in the middle of the room like a clock. It turned out its core was actually the big bell hanging above it. We did not find out until after it had pulled up all the train tracks and shot us with railroad spikes.” There were another utterly bizarre few sentences for the them to struggle through. “So... so, be aware of your surroundings. Anything can attack you. I have seen a child's messy drawing of an airplane shoot exploding crayons.”

Kisuke rubbed his chin. “It sounds like an individualized manifestation of madness.”

Akemi tilted her head. “I suppose.”

“Well, then!” Kisuke said as he turned away to look around with a flourish. “I wonder what sort of obstacles we'll face here.” He glanced around the room they occupied, which seemed to be the lobby of a museum, though the posters were covered with a fascinating scrawl of unrecognizable runes and piles of books teetered in the dim corners. Kisuke looked over his shoulder at the group. “Ichigo, use Kon. Captain Hitsugaya, ditch the gigai. It's an acceptable loss.”

The young men complied, Ichigo having begun carrying Kon in Soul Candy form to take his place during emergencies while away at college. The Mod Soul blinked and quickly took in his surroundings. “Uh... what the hell?”

Akemi's eyes went wide as she silently looked from one “Ichigo” to the other Ichigo. So she had never seen anything of the like? Interesting.

“Not now, Kon,” Ichigo grit out.

Kon whipped around to him and started to sass back, but Ichigo pointed over his shoulder. Kon saw Isshin solemnly lifting Karin's lifeless body and faltered speechlessly, then turned to angrily face front. “Whatever the hell's going on, I'm in.”

“Good,” Kisuke said curtly as Akemi kept goggling at Kon and Ichigo. It would have been cute in other circumstances. “Yoruichi, stick with Isshin. Isshin, can you handle running and jumping in the gigai?” After Isshin's answering nod, Kisuke continued. “Kon and Jinta, center. Tessai and Ururu, rear guard. Miss Akemi and I will take point. Ichigo and Captain Hitsugaya, flank.”

The party assumed a rough diamond formation and looked to Akemi, whose face mutely slid into a distant battle mask. She did an about face and focused on the entry to the rest of the labyrinth for the first time. It was mahogany with ornate decorative carvings, gold-plated runes adorning the lintel. Akemi approached the door and examined the hinges and knobs; it would open inward and one of the knobs featured an exaggerated keyhole. She stepped to one side and cautiously bent to peek through. She stepped back, frowned, and tried the knob. Locked, of course.

“Allow me,” Kisuke murmured.

Akemi raised a brow and stepped aside. Kisuke walked up to the door and hovered one palm over the keyhole. An orb of Shakkahō's red light manifested within the locking mechanism and broke it with a muted explosion. Akemi was fascinated.

“Be ready,” she ordered, hand inside her shield halfway to the elbow as she kicked the door open.

The door folded inward on silent hinges. The huge room beyond was lit only by gas lamps and wan moonlight from windows above. It looked like a very old and eccentric library that had hosted a photographic stalker. There was a wide open area before a bank of book cases of varying heights arranged into an apparent maze, the tomes within ranging from ancient to modern. The air above the entire chamber was strung with interwoven garlands made by pinning photographs to cords using large mousetraps. The open floor entry was filled with different tables hosting chemical baths, incomplete books, and stacks of photographs. Giant, termite-like translucent insects Kisuke recognized as booklice industriously scurried about, their juvenile wings laying along the backs of the brown monks' habits they all wore. Each had a monocle over one beady eye. They diligently worked at various tasks, some seeming to be developing photos, others pasting photos into albums, writing at antique scriveners' desks, or assembling books. Others carried books, photos, and albums to teetering stacks along the edges of the room; still more took items from the disorganized stacks and carried them into the maze of shelves.

“What the fuck,” Kon said for the entire group.

Akemi didn't bother answering or explaining the absurdity of labyrinths again. Instead, she professionally surveyed the room and declared, “I would prefer to move along a wall and try to go over the maze rather than through it.”

“I agree,” said Kisuke. “These creatures seem docile, but I worry about having a large number of them at our rear should that prove misleading.”

“Best to test them while we have a doorway and walls to use as cover.” Akemi finally withdrew her hand from her shield and ignored the startled sounds behind her as she raised a handgun, aimed at the nearest Familiar, and shot it. The creature fell down and dissolved into a puddle of glue in an empty habit.

Kisuke blinked his surprise. His mind whirled with questions. Sound strategy and... conventional weaponry?

The party tensed for a counterattack that never came. The rest of the library drones continued about their business.

“Where the hell did you get a gun?!” Kon yelled.

Akemi calmly looked back at him. “I store weapons in my shield.”

Fascinating.

Kon sputtered. “But where did you get it?! You're like fourteen!”

“That is not important,” Akemi said breezily as she faced the front again. “I think the left side looks best.”

“Hmm, that side of the maze does look more even on top,” Kisuke agreed, pretending to completely ignore the mundane weapon in the girl's hand. “It may be dangerous in a way we can't see yet, though.”

Akemi nodded and eyed him appraisingly. Kisuke hoped he could use this as a chance to build a rapport before his inevitable interrogation. It would make their lives easier. Time to look like he totally knew exactly what he was doing without barking orders or belittling her. If she felt like she was in charge, she might talk more. Maybe. Plus he itched to see what a bona fide magical girl was capable of.

The party set out, moving along the left side of the room at a measured pace. They tried to avoid interrupting the booklice, but took out several that mindlessly tried to walk through their formation. The other drones still took no notice of them. Kisuke, Akemi, Ichigo, and Hitsugaya were the first to leap to the top of the book case that formed the outer wall of the maze. They warily stood ready for battle for a couple minutes while surveying the area for threats. The rest of the group ascended when they gave the all-clear.

It was difficult to guess how far the maze extended because of the garlands of poster-sized photographs blocking their sight. Even the top of the maze was laid out in a tricky manner, book cases of differing heights looking like a series of platforms. Particularly tall book cases occasionally formed barriers to progress. Kisuke and Akemi surveyed the layout and turned to one another. Akemi silently pointed out the path she wanted to take. Kisuke looked back at the maze with narrowed eyes, then nodded in agreement. The party proceeded cautiously, weaving through photograph garlands and hopping from book case to book case. The furniture grew wider as they went.

Hitsugaya curiously peered over the edge of a book case when they were deep within the maze. “Hey. The book cases aren't just wider, they're bigger overall. The ground is sloping down, so they're technically getting taller, too.”

Kisuke and Akemi looked down when they reached a corner. The scientist hummed in interest. “What a clever way to force misperception of depth at the beginning of the maze.”

While stopped, they all took a moment to really look at the hanging photographs. Most of them seemed to portray recognizable moments in Karin's life. There were several of her in the odd red costume she had been wearing earlier, often accompanied by Yuzu in yellow. Kisuke assumed those photos had actually happened. There was even one of Karin, Yuzu, Ichigo, and Homura smiling and eating crêpes. However, some of them appeared to be things that had never happened— an older Karin wearing the Japanese women's soccer team uniform and grinning widely; Karin and Hitsugaya in summer yukata, both looking five years old as they happily played soccer in front of the ridiculous Shiba workshop; Karin in the shinigami academy uniform; and—

Kisuke got a bad feeling as soon as he saw Ichigo swallow hard at the sight. There was a photo of the twins smilingly wearing Karakura High School uniforms, presumably for the first time. Their middle-aged mother stood behind them, beaming proudly with her hands resting on her daughters' shoulders. That was going to be a blow, Kisuke just knew it.

Ichigo shakily reached up, clasped a corner of the photo, and gently tugged it free from the big mouse trap's bait lever. The mouse trap snapped shut on his fingers and the line twanged sharply. Everyone froze and looked around them as library ladders shot up and fell against the edges of the book cases with a loud series of clacks that cascaded through the room.

“Oh, good job, Kurosaki,” Hitsugaya said acidly.

“How was I supposed to know?!” Ichigo squawked as he tried to shake the mouse trap off one-handed.

“They're literally traps, dumbass,” Jinta sneered as he raised his club in anticipation of attack.

Ichigo's embarrassed sputtering was cut off by the crunching ascension of papier maché housecats the size of tigers. Each one had plastic googly eyes and wore epaulettes and bearskins over a nun's wimple and veil. Their claws were small chainsaws.

“Karin's even screwier in the head than I thought,” Jinta muttered. Ururu casually butted the muzzle of her spirit cannon against side of his head from behind as everyone briefly glared at him.

Jinta's lack of tact was soon forgotten in the ensuing mêlée. The three leading shinigami used their ranged attacks to devastating effect, filling the air with bright red and blue light and ice as Akemi carefully fired headshot after headshot, her reiatsu spiking as she imbued bullets with her power. Tessai shielded Isshin and Karin's body as Ururu fired her shoulder-mounted spirit cannon into the horde behind them. Yoruichi warily watched the battle from Isshin's shoulder to see if she would be needed. Jinta crushed cat heads like piñatas with his iron club on one side while Kon did his best to fend off attacks with speed and powerful kicks on the other, but the chainsaws made it difficult. The entire defense began to feel futile when they noticed that the flow of new cats wasn't stopping.

“We cannot afford to stop here,” Akemi shouted curtly. “We need to keep going.”

“Running battle!” Kisuke barked loudly. “Akemi, fall back. Tessai, shield the formation. Ichigo, Hitsugaya, alternate attacks with me as we run. Ready?”

“Yeah!”

The party took off at a run, Kisuke navigating the maze as the three in the lead took turns attacking. Benihime's scarlet fireworks, Zangetsu's brilliant crescents of light, and Hyōrinmaru's glacial dragon construct formed a brutal waltz as they plowed through the chainsaw-clawed cats ahead of them. After a very long ten minutes, the group skidded to a halt on the last book case. Kisuke called out directions for the fighters to turn and defend against the cats while he and Akemi evaluated the next phase of the labyrinth.

There was a large open space as there had been at the entrance to the room. While this area did feature the photograph garlands, it was also dense with red security lasers, caution tape, barbed wire, chains and ropes featuring various “no trespassing” signs in Japanese, English, German, and bizarre runes. The wall had a door at its base that was nowhere near the height of the book case cliff they stood on. It was too far away to make out any special features.

Akemi looked to Kisuke. “Straight down, then break a straight line to the door?”

Kisuke hummed. Her analytical and strategic strength was admirable. And so young! “Straight across at the base would be the shortest distance to have to break up the defenses,” he agreed.

At Kisuke's direction, the party descended along various empty pockets against the wall of the book case. After a hard landing, the spread-out fighters carefully regrouped. They looked up at crackling and hissing from above and found the papier maché cats entangled in the vertical defenses. The lasers caught some on fire; many were ripped and snagged on barbed wire. Some stubbornly tried to force their way down, jumping onto their ensnared cohorts and pawing through openings as they struggled downward. The ropes and caution tape were no match for the chainsaw claws; they mostly had to navigate the chains and lasers.

“Let's not wait for them to get through,” Yoruichi drily suggested.

Kisuke raised one palm toward the far door and silently cast a large Shakkahō. The red bolt tore through everything in its path and blew out the door. The group darted through the tunnel in the defenses, dodging around the lasers which were all that remained. They reached the door just as the first two cats dragged themselves to the ground.

Hitsugaya spun to one side. “I'll get the door!”

As soon as Tessai and Ururu cleared the door, Hitsugaya jabbed Hyōrinmaru forward and launched a larger version of his dragon construct at and through the gaping hole. It took out a handful of cats before it jammed in the door. Hitsugaya kept piling on the ice until the entire entry looked like a glacier. He paused to see if the Familiars would break through, then relaxed with the others.

The group took the opportunity to catch their breath as they surveyed the new room. It was a huge marble chamber with high vaulted ceilings. The entire room had a leftward curve; if there was a door, it must be around the bend. The floor was black and white tile neatly laid out in a pattern resembling the patches of a soccer ball. Unusually bright moonlight poured in from a series of large skylights. The otherwise empty room's walls were decorated with large murals roped off with velvet cords, used art supplies abandoned at the baseboards.

“An art gallery?” Kon asked in bewilderment. “How the hell did we get into an art gallery?”

No one answered him. They reformed their diamond and carefully progressed, most trying not to look at the murals too much after some cursory glances. They were abstract scribbles in various mediums at the beginning of the room but gradually gained form like a child learning to draw. Kisuke's eyes darted over to the murals occasionally to focus on the runic script that was scrawled in random places. Ichigo and Isshin seemed to recognize some of the crayon, marker, and chalk pictures; perhaps from when small versions drawn by Karin's tiny hands had decorated the refrigerator. The art evolved from unidentifiable to stick figures to awkward attempts at perspective and portraiture as they proceeded around the gradually spiraling corridor. By the time a door was in sight, the images on the wall were cartoonish but recognizable drawings of people in Karin's life.

Akemi abruptly stopped just before the door with a sharp gasp. Everyone followed her eyes to a life-size colored pencil drawing. A doll-like figure that was definitely meant to be Akemi in her school uniform stood smiling in the center of a group of five girls. The other four girls had identical generic faces but individual hair. All wore the same uniform, holding hands and smiling. Those who had done research on Mitakihara in the past week recognized the other girls by their hair from missing persons photos. After a moment, Kisuke lay a hand on Akemi's shoulder and tugged her back to reality. She cleared her throat, tossed her hair, and approached the door while trying not to look as shaken as she clearly was.

The tall mahogany door opened easily. This made everyone suspicious instead of relieved. They found another gallery. This one had individual exhibits behind velvet rope. Four were snowmen with soccer balls for heads, each with a different silly face painted on in a different color. Each had cleats, soccer jerseys, and orange cones piled at its base. One had a goal cage behind it. Another exhibit was a haphazard pile of baseball bats and metal clubs that had red paint poured over it. Next to it was a display of rocket launchers, white boxing gloves, and brooms. As they followed the bend, they passed a collection of many different lion plushies; a mountain of candy with partially concealed razor blades glinting in the moonlight; a stack of teapots, tea strainers, and teabags with a tray of burning incense; a pile of rabbit plushies and art supplies; and a curious arrangement of guns, grenades, clocks, and golf clubs.

Everyone was uncomfortable when they passed through the next door. This time the room was much smaller, but its entire contents seemed to have a unifying theme. Hitsugaya took one glance and swallowed hard. Scrolls of old-fashioned ukiyo-e artwork dominated the wall space, images of lotuses, crashing waves, and snowscapes scattered around the room. The two largest pictures were a masterful ink drawing of a serpentine dragon coiled through storm clouds and a landscape of a brilliant sunset on the opposite wall. Any empty space was studded with meticulously pinned and labeled dragonfly specimens in a variety of colors and sizes. At the base of all four walls were neatly sorted inkwells, papers both plain and written upon, cell phones, soccer balls, and snow globes. Several of the party glanced Hitsugaya's way, but he steadfastly stared at the door at the far end of the room with his jaw clenched.

The group entered the next room even more hesitantly. No one liked the pattern that was emerging. They tried not to look at the art, but failed when Isshin quietly rasped, “Masaki.”

Large Impressionist paintings in gilded frames adorned the walls. Each featured a cheerful if blurry female figure. In one she was garbed as the goddess Artemis in flowing robes, her moonlit silver bow drawn on an unseen enemy. In another she was some manner of summer fairy queen, gauzy yellow frills floating around her with a gold crown and daffodils in her loose hair; she held a bouquet of sunflowers in her arms. One featured her as a young ballerina à la Degas, perched in arabesque at the center of the top of a set of Libra's scales; one dish held white sand and the other held black while a shadowy figure held her waist to keep her balanced. Finally, there was a painting done in the style of a Madonna with child, the seated woman surrounded by her flowing skirts; three small children slept with their heads on her lap as she serenely smiled down at them from beneath her halo. The floor was strewn with sweets, storybooks, and flowers. Several different bows and arrows were propped up in all the corners. A big, fancy crystal chandelier shone rays of sunny light throughout the room.

Kisuke turned back at the far door and seriously said, “Isshin. Ichigo.”

Isshin sniffed and blinked. “Let's go. Let's go.” Kisuke looked to Ichigo. The teenager nodded mutely, tearing his eyes away from the last painting with effort.

The next room was larger and eerily lit from above by a glowing ceiling fresco diptych of two crescent moons, one glowing blue and one glowing red. The room was divided down the center. The blue side featured a line of suits of armor in varying historical styles. Swords, bows, and quivers were mounted on the walls above and around them. A string of repeating numbers trailed across the top of the wall— 1215— running the entire length of the room. At the center of the wall was a pedestal with a glass case; within it, a crown sat on a plush black cushion. A white hobbyhorse was visible just behind the pedestal, leaning on a wide pile of CD cases and books. The red side of the room had a row of samurai armor, the wall behind them practically wallpapered with medical supplies and weights. Across from the crown display was a medical exam table. Upon its paper covering was a giant scalpel whose handle had been wrapped like a katana's hilt. A collection of rainbow clown wigs was thoughtlessly shoved in a corner.

Ichigo and Isshin gravely glanced at each other, then Karin's empty body, then the far door. They dreaded the next room— it would probably center around Yuzu. It was going to be more of a stab to the heart than a punch to the gut, especially with the question that lay heavy on their minds:

Where was Yuzu's body?

Kisuke cautiously stepped through the next door and waved the others through. The Kurosaki men tensed and stepped through into... a long, plain white hallway. Everyone stared.

“Well, that was abrupt,” Yoruichi muttered.

The party moved carefully, uncomfortably aware of the loudness of their echoing steps. They passed through the next door into a small white room. The far wall was covered by a rolling, gray metal grate like those used when stores close for the evening. Kisuke looked around at everyone and gestured for Kon to lift it while the rest of the fighters prepared to defend. When they proceeded into the next white room, Kon warily opened the accordion-style black wrought iron gate on the other side. In the next room they found what looked like a submarine door complete with spinning wheel in the center. Kon looked at Kisuke incredulously, but the scientist just waved for him to open the door. The next room was larger and featured a massive bank safe. Red security lasers crisscrossed the room. Caltrops and barbed wire were spread across the floor. The room was wallpapered with No Trespassing signs in multiple languages. A single line of large runes was engraved upon the door of the safe, a handful of gold coins and large rubies littering the floor before it.

“This is it,” Akemi said decisively.

Chapter Text

VIERUNDZWANZIG

TIMELINE X+N

Upon reentering Soul Society with Captain Ukitake and Lieutenant Kuchiki, Akon immediately leapt into shunpo and raced to the Twelfth Division grounds ahead of them. The scientists of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute paused in their duties to scurry out of their way and watch the bloodied party with fear or curiosity as they descended into the more secure labs near Captain Kurostuchi's office. Akon barked an order to a mousy young scientist who scrambled away to fetch something. When they neared a particular door, Akon set the damaged sensor on the ground and carefully took the small containment kidō Captain Ukitake was maintaining around the spindle that had floated down when the pocket dimension had collapsed. Captain Ukitake and Lieutenant Kuchiki stood outside as Akon placed the strange little gem into an isolation room. As he closed the door, the mousy scientist brought three tubes and handed them to her Third Seat, then hovered to await new orders.

Akon popped the cap off the tube and poured two small ampules into his palm. He pantomimed to Captain Ukitake and Lieutenant Kuchiki to copy him, then pressed them into his ears. All three grimaced at sharp pain, but could hear again almost immediately.

“What was that?” Lieutenant Kuchiki asked as she winced through the pain while rubbing her ears.

“Rapid repair for tympanic membranes,” Akon answered. “It's not uncommon for us to blow our ears with an explosion.” He turned to his subordinate and pointed at the damaged sensor. “Get this down to the Spiritual Wave Measurement Lab now. I want this salvaged and studied as soon as possible.”

“Um, sir?” the scientist said nervously as she lifted the sensor, “Uh, where is Department Head Tsubokura?”

Face grim, Akon replied, “Probably dead.”

The scientist gaped, then fled.

Akon was scrubbing his hands over his face and considering his next move when Nemu Kurotsuchi slid into view. She eyed the trio for a moment, taking in their roughed-up appearance. “I see the retrieval mission encountered complications,” she said placidly.

Akon snorted derisively. He tiredly rubbed his neck as the Thirteenth Division officers silently watched. “Tsubokura and the escorts are most likely dead, though we found no bodies. The portal I reported earlier led to some bizarre pocket dimension with some weird thing that turned into a giant LRAD. When the LRAD-monster was destroyed by Captain Ukitake and Lieutenant Kuchiki, the dimension collapsed. The damaged sensor array is on its way down to be salvaged. Other than that... well, look.”

Nemu calmly peered through the viewing window and the spindle in the containment field, then turned back to Akon and raised one eyebrow.

“It fell out of thin air when the pocket dimension collapsed. It feels like the energy of the dimension hyper-condensed into a single object. It also happens to feel a lot like Hollow reishi.”

“I would like Captain Kurotsuchi's input on this situation,” announced Captain Ukitake. His eyes were hard as Nemu looked his way. “I read the reports. Something isn't right in Mitakihara. I don't want to assume we eliminated the only threat. Something is capable of evading detection while preying upon humans and unseated shinigami. If it can hide from your broad-scale sensors, we have no way of knowing how many of these things are out there without direct involvement. This needs to be investigated now.”

Nemu stared at the captain for a moment before dipping her head. “I will inform Captain Kurotsuchi.”

Captain Ukitake nodded decisively, then turned to leave. Three steps away, he turned back. Jaw tight, he added, “Also inform your captain that I am reporting the situation to Captain-Commander Yamamoto, so he should expect to hear from First Division soon.” Everyone present translated it to This isn't something I'll let your captain avoid because it's not interesting enough. Let him know I'm willing to sic the old man on him.

The Thirteenth Division officers left. Akon was itching for a smoke— he hadn't seen combat in years and the adrenaline crash had hit him headlong— but he saw the way his superior was eyeing him. She was going to make him explain it to their captain. Great.

Akon had a migraine by the time he sufficiently explained everything to his captain. He was about to flee and acquire smokes and coffee when a Hell Butterfly fluttered in. Kurotsuchi, far more interested in the little black gem, relayed an order to immediately recall Captain Hitsugaya from the World of the Living for a captains' meeting that evening. Well, at least the Captain-Commander was taking the mess in Mitakihara seriously. Making a phone call to Captain Hitsugaya should be simple enough.

Fifteen minutes later, Akon listened to a recording of Captain Hitsugaya's clipped tone professionally asking the caller to leave a message for the tenth time. It was unlike Hitsugaya to turn off his phone and let it go straight to voicemail. Uneasy, he dialed Urahara's Soul Phone.

“Hello, my shinigami friends! I'm currently unavailable! Am I inventing something? Doing an experiment? Selling candy? Giving cream to stray cats? Who knows?! Try again later, hahaha!”

He dialed Urahara Shop.

“Hello, hello, hello! Urahara Shop is currently closed! If you'd like to place a special order, please leave a message! If not, try calling again tomorrow!”

He dialed Kurosaki Clinic.

“Hello, you've reached the Kurosaki Clinic. If this is an emergency, please hang up and call for an ambulance. The clinic is currently closed—”

He dialed Ichigo Kurosaki's Soul Phone.

“Yo. I have this thing on vibrate and will ignore the call if I'm in class, so just keep calling until I pick up if it's an emergency. If it's not urgent, you know what to do. Later.”

He dialed Ichigo ten times before trying the teen's normal cell phone. No answer. Tried Captain Hitsugaya again. Still no answer. Frustrated, he dialed the Soul Phone Urahara had given to Ichigo's Quincy friend.

Click. “Ishida speaking,” said an annoyed voice.

“Uryū Ishida, correct?” asked Akon. At a peevish affirmative, Akon leaned forward on his terminal and continued, “This is Akon, Third Seat of the Twelfth Division. I'm sorry for bothering you, but I am trying to contact Captain Hitsugaya, Kisuke Urahara, or Ichigo Kurosaki. Do you know where they are?”

After a pause, Ishida suspiciously replied, “Kurosaki returned to Karakura yesterday. I would assume he and Urahara are there. I have neither heard from nor seen Hitsugaya in months.”

Akon chewed his cheek. “I've tried calling all of them, even Urahara Shop and Kurosaki Clinic. Everything goes straight to voicemail. Are you sure you don't know something?”

The line went quiet for a moment, then the sound quality changed as the Quincy switched to speaker phone. A feminine sound of confusion and a deep murmur faintly came over the line. Probably Ichigo's other friends.

“Certain. Why are you trying to reach them? What's going on?” Ishida asked tensely.

Pursing his lips, Akon replied, “There has been an incident in Mitakihara. I am attempting to recall Captain Hitsugaya from his mission for a captains' meeting.”

Before he could continue, Orihime Inoue's voice worriedly chimed, “Mitakihara? Does this have something to do with that poor girl Ichigo said is visiting his sisters?”

Cold sweat beaded on Akon's face. The lack of communication was like the Mitakihara expedition all over again. That many powerful figures being out of contact was unlikely to be a coincidence. What the hell was going on?

Akon checked the sensor data for Karakura and found nothing unusual for the town— a strong hollow signature had spiked by the shop and had been extinguished almost immediately, but that happened every few weeks. All he could think of were the Mitakihara portal only detectable at close range and Urahara's report on the strange girl from Mitakihara. Correlation was not causation, but a feeling of dread crept up on Akon regardless.

“Mister Akon?” Inoue said when his silence dragged on.

Akon scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I honestly don't know. But we lost the Mitakihara research team to an enemy unlike anything I've ever seen.”

After a short pause of quiet murmuring that turned into hurried footsteps and distant doors opening and closing, Ishida coldly demanded, “Tell me everything. We'll leave for Karakura on the next train. We can be there in an hour.”

Akon debated what to say. Screw it, may as well give Kurosaki's comrades-in-arms enough information to avoid being killed when they inevitably flocked to their de facto leader's side.

Ten minutes later, Akon tiredly hung up. He reluctantly picked up the office phone and pressed his captain's extension. As expected, the man snarled at him for interrupting his study of his new toy. Akon rubbed his temples and said, “Sir, I think we may have another situation.”

So screwed.

“Any last minute advice, Miss Akemi?” Urahara asked as he solemnly examined the room.

Homura pursed her lips, doing the same. “It is difficult to say. The overall theme of the labyrinth could mean the Witch will be defensively strong, but it could also mean that it is more vulnerable to attack once the labyrinth's defenses been breached. We may be able to tell more once we see what form the Witch has taken, but even its appearance cannot be trusted.”

Urahara nodded thoughtfully. “Well, there are rather more lasers than I care to dodge. No need to be tidy— let's just destroy the walls they're coming out of.”

Homura watched their techniques with interest as Urahara and Mr. Tsukabishi blasted opposite walls. Fascinating. But Urahara caught her watching them and must have seen her interest, because he reacted with... curiosity, perhaps? But he shook his head and looked away without saying anything. Instead, he directed Ichigo to one side of the vault door and stood by the other side himself. Both wedged the tips of their blades into the seam of the vault door and charged their attacks. They successfully blasted the door open. They dodged as the door fell toward them, then resumed their diamond formation to cautiously enter.

They found a limited space in what seemed to be a very large cavern, if the distant, shadowed ceiling was any indication. Stacked treasure chests formed walls that were about three meters tall, densely adorned with caltrops and razorwire. Crisscrossing razorwire formed a woven ceiling between treasure chest walls. The wide path was forcibly narrowed by neat, waist-high stacks of gold and silver ingots. Fancy jewelry, ceremonial weapons, and ancient artifacts were in glass display cases on the flat surface of the bulwark of precious metals. The only source of illumination was the amassed riches, all softly glowing.

“Do not touch anything if you can help it,” Homura said coldly. “The treasure may be traps like the photos were.”

The group carefully followed the hallway in a curve with a slight downward slope. It took almost ten minutes to near the end. They paused to brace themselves before exiting the brighter doorway, then slowly crept out.

The overall cavern was enormous and glittered with treasure. The riches were piled up against the inner circle of treasure chests and strewn all over the ground. Everything glittered with gold, silver, and jewels. The chamber floor sloped downward from the walls, but changed course and rose into a wide hill of gold, silver, gemstones, books, weapons, sculptures, framed artwork, dolls, photo albums, and scattered skeletons of ancient creatures. Atop the hoard was a massive exhibit pedestal bordered by velvet rope and an over-sized museum placard featuring a line of large runes. Presiding over the entire chamber was a draconic figure of composite parts: A triple-size tyrannosaurus rex skeleton with golden chain mail over its ribs and proportionately large red birds' wings erupting from where the dinosaur's forelegs should have been. Improbably large rubies were lodged in its eye sockets and glowed ominously.

Everyone stopped and stared, many in disbelief.

“That's... that's supposed to be Karin's soul?” Hitsugaya said just above a whisper, horrified.

Homura glanced at his pained face and looked toward the Witch again. She didn't want to look at the Kurosaki men. “Yes.”

Isshin numbly slid down onto his knees, transfixed by the form his daughter's soul took when twisted by despair. Ichigo staggered out in front of the group in shock, speechlessly stumbling down the hill of coins as Homura called out for him to stop. He ignored her in favor of painfully shouting his sister's name, his weapon held loosely as his world narrowed down to a single point.

The skeletal dragon bellowed, its roar interwoven with a tortured, furious scream that sounded like Karin. It beat its wings and stamped its feet.

Mr. Tsukabishi reacted faster than any of them, throwing a large magic shield over their heads as heavy objects fell from the ceiling. Most appeared to be anvils, but several large glass objects shattered against the spell. Ichigo wasn't as lucky, finding himself trapped in a glass bell jar with a neat runic label. He startled and tried to break out, but there wasn't enough room to swing his blade and the glass seemed to accept his power as an energy source to glow by rather than be compromised by it. The young man looked from his sister's monstrous soul to the retrieval party in dread.

The anvils had scarcely slammed into the ground when they rose once more, sprouting horse legs. They cavorted ominously, each draped with gold chains bearing glittering rubies. Homura shot one and scowled as her bullet simply ricocheted off the anvil. Urahara muttered a phrase and swung his blade, bright red energy lashing out and cleaving an anvil in two. One nearby turned, bucked, and fired its rear legs at the group as some bizarre horseshoe rocket. Urahara sharply drew his left arm up and silently cast a round magical shield to deflect the projectiles.

Homura was getting more and more curious about the variety of magic they used. It seemed extremely versatile.

Another fight broke out, anvil-horses charging the group or launching their legs. Hitsugaya focused on immobilizing them with ice as they charged or fell from above, then leaving them for others to pick off between their own enemies. The fake Ichigo resentfully withdrew behind Tsukabishi's shield, finding his kicks useless against solid iron. He stood protectively over Isshin, who seemed to have distanced himself from reality to stare at his daughter's face with his head bowed. Jinta focused on trying to take out the horse legs with his club, gritting his teeth whenever he connected with iron just wrong and the impact painfully resonated through his bones. Ururu fired her spirit cannon in every direction but Ichigo's. It was chaotic, but Homura found herself impressed by how well they handled themselves under the onslaught.

Her experience with the Pumpkin Witch fresh in her mind, Homura opted to ignore the Familiars in favor of the Witch. She could shove bombs into its jaws but the chain mail niggled at the back of her mind and made her think that its weak spot would be the portion protected by armor. Face set in determination, Homura put her Beretta in her shield and darted away from the group with flash steps, nimbly weaving her way through the enemies while using her shield to bat away horse legs. She ignored the dismayed shouts from the fighters and scaled the central treasure heap in several jumps, landing on the mahogany platform. The Witch snarled and turned to face Homura head-on as she pulled an RPG launcher from her shield, swung it up to her shoulder, and fired a grenade at the center of the golden chain mail at close range.

The grenade exploded on impact and blew apart the front of the armor. The dragon hunched forward, beat its wings, and blew fire at Homura with an enraged roar. Homura reacted without thinking, dropping the launcher, freezing time, and leaping to one side to avoid being roasted alive. She brought her shield up and flared her magic around her as she let time resume. When the smoke cleared, Homura stared dumbly while several of the fighters across the room cried out in horror.

Without its chain mail, the dragon's rib cage was exposed. Within it was Yuzu's body, bound to the dinosaur skeleton's spine at heart-level with many strings of pearls. It was dressed in a billowing yellow princess dress, white-gloved hands clasped over its breast and secured in place by a strand of citrines. The dress' sunny frills swayed with the Witch's every movement, as did the little veil attached to the conical hat on the corpse's head.

The Witch took advantage of Homura's momentary shock to spin and swipe at her with its bony tail. She got her shield up in time, but was swept off her feet and sent airborne. Homura angled herself for a decent landing but her direction suddenly changed after an impact in midair. Looking to the side, she found herself snagged in Hitsugaya's free arm as he brought them to a halt and set them on one of the treasure chest terraces. He looked at her, face pained, and quietly said, “Let's end this.”

Homura's face hardened and she nodded firmly. Both looked back to the mountain of treasure, where the dragon roared and breathed fire in random directions in a display of anger.

Hitsugaya adjusted his grip on his blade. “Can you get back up there yourself?”

“Yes. You have a plan?”

“I'll freeze her... it... in place from behind. Try to... to blow h-its head off with that thing you used,” Hitsugaya said heavily.

Homura nodded again. “Be ready to grab Yuzu's body when the Witch fades or it will disappear with the labyrinth.”

Hitsugaya swallowed, worked his jaw, and nodded slowly, eyes darting to Yuzu's doll-like corpse. His face shifted into something cold and businesslike as he steeled himself. “Ready?”

Homura nodded at him with newfound respect. “Yes.”

Both took off at high speed. Homura landed in front of the Witch to get its attention while Hitsugaya landed behind it. He shouted and lashed out with his blade. Icy dragon constructs burst from the sword and wrapped around the Witch's tail and legs as Homura pulled a new RPG launcher out of her shield and readied it. The Witch beat its wings and shrieked in fury, turning its head to breathe fire at the shinigami. Hitsugaya made a shield of ice with a shout. Homura had a clear shot at the unprotected side of the Witch's neck. She froze time for a moment to perfect her aim, then released her hold on time as she pulled the trigger.

The grenade exploded against the skeleton's cervical vertebrae and completely severed the head. Homura immediately dropped the spent launcher and readied a second in case the Witch hadn't been killed, but it proved unnecessary. The dragon's bird wings exploded in a flurry of feathers as the skeleton fell apart. Hitsugaya leapt up and caught Yuzu's body as soon as it began to fall, golden frills dissolving and transforming back into her school uniform. A moment later, the world wobbled and the labyrinth completely collapsed.

The entire party found themselves in the ruined back half of the Urahara Shop. They looked around in surprise as Homura sadly watched the Witch's Grief Seed drift to the floor.

Freed from the bell jar, Ichigo dropped his blade and mutely crawled toward the silver and black spindle with jerky movements. His hands shook as he held them over the gem that radiated Karin's warped magic. Ichigo made a choking sound and carefully cupped his hands around the Grief Seed, then lifted it to stare at it. He was silent for a long moment, then roared with enraged grief.

Homura's heart ached. As always, she didn't need to be a Witch to inflict despair and suffering on good people who actually had something left to lose.

The occupants of the wrecked Urahara Shop numbly stood or sat in the aftermath. After a pause to get his bearings, Tōshirō stepped forward and carefully laid Yuzu's body on the floor in front of her father. Isshin's reaction was delayed, but the man soon put Karin's body beside her sister's and sat staring at his daughters with one hand covering the bottom of his face as he struggled to cope. Something in Tōshirō cringed at the sight of his former captain's state of desolate heartbreak. The man was completely undone and Tōshirō didn't know how to fix it. Urahara solemnly approached Isshin and lay a hand on his friend's shoulder. Ichigo stayed where he was, curled up on his knees as though shielding Karin's Grief Seed while his shoulders silently heaved.

Tōshirō, Ichigo, and Urahara's phones shrilled notifications for missed calls all at the same time.

“That can't be good,” Yoruichi said ominously.

The Mod Soul pulled Ichigo's phone out of his jeans and looked around the group for instruction. Urahara motioned for Kon to stop as Tōshirō tiredly flipped his phone open and looked at the notices. “Twelfth Division,” he said dully. He opened a text message which announced his orders. “Urgent, unscheduled captains' meeting tonight to hear Ukitake's incident report and Kurotsuchi's initial findings.”

“Sounds like things went to Hell up north, too,” Yoruichi said quietly.

Tōshirō scrolled down, reading multiple missed call notices and increasingly concerned texts. He sighed and pressed the callback button. The call was picked up almost immediately. “Hitsugaya reporting,” he said tonelessly. Tōshirō stared at the Kurosaki sisters' bodies as Akon spoke rapidly on the other end of the line. “We're fine. I understand. I will return just before then. There's been... an incident here. We need to figure out some things.” Twelfth Division's Third Seat stammered an objection, but Tōshirō cut him off with a weary, “The things from Mitakihara are also in Karakura. We are dealing with a crisis. We have a lead. I'll report what we figure out at the meeting.” He didn't bother waiting for a reply, ending the call and closing his phone.

Urahara straightened, face businesslike. “Ichigo. Let me see the Grief Seed.” Ichigo huddled around it more. “Let me try to help her, Ichigo.”

Ichigo sniffed and shambled to his feet. He placed the Grief Seed in Urahara's palm gently, then hovered his hands over it as one would a sacred object. “Please,” he rasped, looking up at Urahara desperately.

Urahara lay his free hand on Ichigo's shoulder. “I'll do my best.” He was prudent enough to avoid making promises he wasn't sure he could keep. Ichigo nodded his understanding and shuffled over to his father. He sat next to Isshin and joined him in silent despondency.

The sight was jarring for Tōshirō. Everything about this was wrong on so many levels that he felt frozen in the moment, unable to react. How was he supposed to react? His best friend and her sister were dead, the savior of Soul Society needed an entirely different kind of salvation himself, and Tōshirō's old father figure was utterly broken. Wrong wrong wrong. The worst thing was that he didn't understand.

Someone did, though, he thought as he eyed Homura Akemi. The girl was bloodied and exhausted and looked dead inside, but she had answers.

Tōshirō wanted answers.

Urahara breathed deeply, assessed the room and its occupants, then barked orders. “Kon, Jinta, Ururu, clean the place up as much as possible. Yoruichi, keep an eye on them.” He indicated the surviving Kurosakis with one hand. “Tessai, make them some tea then write an incident report.” He gave Tsukabishi a significant look as he said it. Tsukabishi nodded in understanding; Tōshirō had a feeling there would be sedatives in the tea given to Isshin and Ichigo. “Captain Hitsugaya, Miss Akemi; if you would come with me, please.”

Akemi warily obeyed, recognizing the order hidden in the suggestion. The way she looked at Tōshirō told him she understood that he would be behind her specifically to keep her from fleeing. She followed the scientist through more corridors than the little shop should have been able to hold until they ended up in a combination lab and office.

Urahara crossed the room and indicated a chair at a desk. “Please, sit, Miss Akemi.”

Akemi approached the table as though walking toward a guillotine. She sat primly as Urahara wandered across the room. She was obviously conscious of Tōshirō's sharp eyes watching her every move from the door, but she didn't squirm. A shinigami at her front, a shinigami blocking the exit, and no idea how they would react in the wake of the tragedy, but she remained calm.

That took guts. Especially given she thought shinigami would hunt her kind. Tōshirō hoped she wanted them as allies now that they had fought by her side. He hoped she felt the twins' precious people deserved an explanation.

Above all, Tōshirō wanted to know how to save the Kurosaki girls— and who would be feeling Hyōrinmaru's wintry wrath.

Chapter Text

FÜNFUNDZWANZIG

TIMELINE X+N

Kisuke carefully put the two Grief Seeds into secure containers, sat at his desk, and politely asked Akemi to excuse him for a few minutes while he tended to a task. They all knew it was an order to stay where she was while Kisuke rapidly typed out notes and questions about the entire debacle. Akemi played along, nodding and murmuring for him to take all the time he needed— a perfect guest. The clacking of the keyboard was the only sound in the tense atmosphere for a good ten minutes. Finally, Kisuke sat back and scrubbed his face with both hands, then sighed deeply. He dropped his hands looked at the bona fide magical girl sitting rigidly in his guest chair.

Kisuke chose to remain silent and just observe Akemi for awhile. Her mask of calm was admirable for one so young, but the emotions she tried to hide were betrayed by slight twitches and frowns. The girl was keenly aware that Hitsugaya was leaning against the door to their side not solely out of interest but to keep her from escaping, her eyes unhappily darting to him and the visible hilt of his sword now and then. If Kisuke was interpreting her disapproving glances at his computer correctly, she didn't like that he had documented anything. Her ankles were crossed and her hands were clasped in her lap in apparent passivity, but her knuckles were white. Ah, she was consciously trying to look non-threatening. And his long, wordless scrutiny was starting to unnerve her. Good.

Kisuke clapped his hands with false eagerness. “Well!”

Akemi startled like a frightened bird. Good.

He straightened and rolled closer to the desk. “I think we won't get anywhere until I address your concern about being hunted by shinigami. I beg your pardon, but I've never heard of magical girls outside of fiction, never mind missions to hunt them. If you would explain why you think shinigami would hunt magical girls, I may be able to put your fears to rest.”

The girl stared at him, considering. “I only know what Karin and Yuzu told me last week,” she hedged.

Kisuke nodded pleasantly. “That's fine. Do tell.”

Akemi pursed her lips. “They said that what the Incubator does to make us magical girls imitates what zan...pakuto?” Kisuke nodded. “We would have if we went to... Soul Society? And became shinigami.” She paused to look at him for a reaction. Kisuke displayed nothing but polite interest. “That our weapons aren't perfect copies, but they can purify Hollows and help souls cross over.” Akemi eyed him again. He still didn't react. “Karin said the shinigami don't— didn't?— like it when humans can... do shinigami things. The Incubator said shinigami execute humans who get powers. It mentioned some kind of genocide?” She peered up at him in inquiry.

“The Quincy?” Kisuke asked. Akemi nodded. He scratched his chin. “Unfortunately, yes, though there were extenuating circumstances.” At Akemi's skeptical look, he added, “Their methods were outright destroying the souls that made up Hollows instead of purifying them and sending them to Soul Society. There were attempts to make peace, but they fell through. I will admit it was largely due to shinigami arrogance. We've all had our hubris thoroughly shoved in our faces since then, though.”

Akemi tilted her head thoughtfully. “In the war? Karin said her brother defeated the enemy and the shinigami changed their minds because he was human and shinigami and Quincy, yet still helped them. But Karin and Yuzu did not want to mention their ties to shinigami so the Incubator did not believe them when they said relations had improved.”

Kisuke blinked and raised his eyebrows. “That's... vastly simplified, but— wait, the girls know all that?”

Hitsugaya scoffed from where he leaned on the door and quietly said, “If you thought the girls wouldn't succeed at prying anything out of Kurosaki after all the strange things that happened in the war, you're either a fool or have never met them.”

Kisuke thought for a moment, then conceded the point with a nod. “Anyway, yes, Ichigo and his allies changed several important minds in the military and the bureaucracy was completely replaced. While still conservative, they are far more moderate. The official stance toward humans with powers has been relaxed. As long as they don't damage and destroy souls, prevent souls from crossing over, or show hostile intent, the Thirteen Divisions will leave them be.” Kisuke sat back. “Do magical girls have hostile intent?”

“No!” Akemi blurted, then immediately said, “Well....” The shinigami raised their eyebrows. Akemi pursed her lips. “Not toward anyone in particular. As a whole. But there are magical girls who will aggressively defend their territory. Especially from other magical girls.”

Kisuke frowned. That was actually really surprising. “Against their own? Why?”

Akemi quickly averted her eyes. He waited her out. She used a clinical voice to answer, “Grief Seeds are in high demand and limited supply. Some girls team up and share, but others do not. If they are not with someone, they are usually against everyone.”

Harsh. “And what kind of magical girl are you, Miss Akemi?”

The girl pursed her lips and stared at him coldly. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“On if another magical girl threatens my friends.” She frowned mulishly. “I am not worried about losing territory. I can easily get new Grief Seeds elsewhere.”

Kisuke hummed in thought to stall. Her attitude bespoke confidence in her abilities and experience. Not necessarily to a delusional extent, considering her performance in the labyrinth. He set aside fact-checking her self-evaluation until later. Deciding to be cruelly blunt to catch her off-guard, he casually asked, “Do you have any plans for causing an apocalypse or something in your anger now that you've failed and your friends are dead?”

Akemi recoiled as though slapped, white-faced. She nearly rose from her chair to indignantly shout something, but her eyes went wide and she snapped her mouth shut with a click of her teeth. The girl sat back hard and stared at him wildly, plainly realizing she had underestimated how dangerous he was with words.

Damn. Backfire. Too quick-witted. Work with it, work with it.

Kisuke took his hat off and dipped his head. “My sincerest apologies for the cruel words, Miss Akemi. I needed to startle a genuine reaction out of you. If I am to assist you and advocate for you, I must be able to assure my peers of your lack of ill will. In my position, I am obligated to take measures to ensure my allies' safety. I hope you understand that.”

Akemi squinted at him suspiciously and resentfully grit out, “The only being anyone needs to worry about me always hating and wanting to kill is the Incubator.”

“Good. I believe you.” Kisuke nodded genially, making a mental note of the interesting qualifier she had used. He wondered if that little “always” was a conscious choice or a Freudian slip. Whichever it was, he needed to convince her to set aside her newly heightened suspicion for cooperation. Her friends were dead, so they would make poor levers, but— yes. Never use the stick when the carrot will suffice. Kisuke met her eyes and seriously said, “Should the information you provide lead us to determine this 'Incubator' is a threat which preys upon human souls, would you be willing to assist in its elimination?”

The girl blinked. Tilted her head in skepticism. Tried to keep a straight face. Failed to hide the eager sharpness in her eyes. “I have tried to kill it many times,” she said carefully, her face sliding into that of a hardened veteran several times her age. “It has many bodies. Possibly a single consciousness. I have lost track of how many I have destroyed. It always has replacements. I have conflicting information regarding what it really is and where it comes from. It claims to have been causing this cycle for millennia.”

“And it preys on the souls of innocent girls,” Kisuke added smoothly.

Akemi nodded, eyes steely.

“I will take great pleasure in unraveling the net this being has caught you all in.” Kisuke let his eyes get heavy-lidded, his face easing into grim craftiness. “And I do so love a challenge.” He put his hat back on. “First order of business is to see if I can salvage Karin and Yuzu's souls, though.”

Akemi shook her head mournfully. “Yuzu's soul no longer exists.”

Kisuke and Hitsugaya tensed.

“What do you mean?!” Hitsugaya demanded. “You gave a Grief Seed to Urahara—!”

“That is not Yuzu's soul.”

Kisuke rolled over to the lab table and opened the containers to feel their reiatsu. One was definitely a twisted version of Karin's. The other... was definitely not Yuzu's. He looked up at Hitsugaya, surprised. “She's right.” He frowned. “How did I not notice...?”

Akemi's face relaxed into sympathy. “You were very good, but everyone's first labyrinth is very disorienting. And you were distracted.”

Kisuke scowled. “No excuse.” He closed the containers and rolled back to the desk. “Where is her soul?”

Akemi frowned. “I told you: It no longer exists.”

“Explain.”

She paused, then held up her left hand to show him the diamond-shaped amethyst on its back. “When magical girls transform, their Soul Gems do, too. They usually become some kind of ornament.” She withdrew her hand and visibly debated how much to say.

“Miss Akemi,” Kisuke said softly. “From their name, I presume Soul Gems are critically important and you don't want to make yours vulnerable.” Akemi looked surprised. “But incomplete information can slow or kill my investigation. I need to know.”

Akemi frowned uncertainly and glanced warily at Hitsugaya. The young man straightened and growled, “I want to destroy whatever did this to Karin and Yuzu. You're our only lead. No one in this shop is going to let anything happen to you. I'll be your representative at the captains' meeting. We need as much information as possible to shorten the investigation and figure out how to handle this.”

After another minute of consideration, the magical girl sighed. “A magical girl's Soul Gem is literally her soul condensed into crystal. As long as our Gems do not become too corrupted, we can recover from and fight through any injury because the damage is separate from us— our bodies may as well be puppets once we contract. The greatest weakness in this system is that destruction of the Soul Gem is literally destruction of the soul.” Akemi's voice quieted. “Yuzu's Soul Gem was shattered by a railroad spike this afternoon. That Grief Seed is the soul of the Witch who killed her.”

Hitsugaya sagged against the door and stared blankly at the ceiling. Kisuke closed his eyes and rubbed them with one hand. “You're certain?”

Akemi nodded. “I saw the shards dissolve.”

“Right. Okay. Well.” Kisuke dropped his hand, breathed deeply, and changed course. He couldn't afford to dwell on the implications yet. “Karin's soul, then.” He snagged a pad of paper and plopped it on his desk. Ready to write, he turned a piercing gaze on Akemi. “I want you to tell me everything you know about Soul Gems and Grief Seeds, magical girls and Witches. Even things you are uncertain about or oddities you've observed. Save the story of what brought you to this point for later.”

Akemi drew a steadying breath and began to speak.

Uryū Ishida didn't know what he expected to find when he and his friends arrived at Urahara Shop, but it definitely wasn't a half-bombed-out building with debris littering the yard. He kept moving through the shock, though, approaching the gathering of familiar reiatsu signatures with his bow drawn just in case. Uryū rounded the corner and ducked to avoid a flying two-by-four.

Chad grabbed his hand before he could loose an arrow and said, “Kon.”

The Quincy stepped back. The stupid Mod Soul stood there in Kurosaki's stupid body and stared stupidly at them. He was scratched up and terribly pale. Not even the sight of Orihime affected him. His reaction was a melancholy, “Oh. What are you doing here?”

A muscle jumped in Uryū's jaw. “What are we doing here?! Twelfth Division called us because none of you would answer your phones! And what is going on here?!”

“Oh.” Kon listlessly looked into the gaping hole in the shop. “I don't really understand everything, but we fought some weird-ass monsters and Karin and Yuzu are dead, but Urahara's gonna try to fix them.”

“What?!” hissed Uryū as Chad and Orihime rushed into the shop. Kon just shrugged and went back to hauling debris.

Uryū caught up with Chad and Orihime, who had drawn up short at the sight of their friend and his father sitting in shell-shocked defeat by the bodies of the Kurosaki sisters.

Orihime held her hands over her mouth and made a tearful sound of dismay, then charged forward. “Ichigo! I'll heal them!” Two of her hairpin fairies glimmered and darted to the girls, fluttered around them, and made a glowing shield. Yuzu's wounds and pallor were undone, but the girls remained lifeless. Orihime's fairies returned to her and spoke in voices that sounded like chimes to everyone else. “But— but why—?”

Ichigo looked up at her with painful slowness. He stared at her dully, eyes glassy. “Their souls aren't in their bodies.”

“Where are they?” Orihime asked worriedly.

Ichigo's only reply was to speechlessly sink his face into his hands and shake his head. It was one of the more disturbing things his friends had seen.

Yoruichi slunk around from behind Isshin and murmured an order to follow her. She took them aside and explained the afternoon in broad strokes. Orihime cried through most of the report while Uryū and Chad reacted with horror. They were spared having to think of something to say by the appearance of Urahara, Hitsugaya, and the dark-haired actual real-life magical girl.

Ichigo remained morose, but Isshin blearily looked up at the shopkeeper. “Kisuke, you bastard, you had Tessai drug us.”

“Of course I did,” Urahara said unrepentantly.

Isshin stared for a moment, mumbled, “Thanks,” and went back to watching his daughters as though he might see them suddenly draw breath again if he watched long enough.

Urahara looked around the room. His eyes sharpened. “Ah! Miss Inoue! Just the talented young lady I wanted to see!”

Orihime sat ramrod straight and stared at him intensely. “Can I help?!”

“Quite possibly. I would prefer to do a bit of study and explain things to you instead of throwing you into a situation blindly. I need to be sure I understand what's happening.”

Orihime clenched her fists and made a face of earnest determination. “I'll do whatever it takes!”

Urahara smiled faintly. “I had no doubt that you would.” He looked around the assembly more seriously. “Captain Hitsugaya needs to leave to make a report at a captains' meeting. I am sending an official request for him to be stationed here afterward. I need to study Miss Akemi's information and do some tests. In the mean time, everyone is staying here tonight and everyone needs to eat. Tessai, Ururu, please prepare a meal. Yoruichi, please go to the clinic and fetch some things for Isshin and Ichigo.” The black cat trotted down a hallway. “Jinta, prepare a room and futon for the Kurosaki family to stay in for now. Everyone else... just... do whatever. Clearing debris would be nice but you can just sit with the Kurosakis if you want.” Urahara exchanged quiet words with Hitsugaya before the captain departed, then retreated to his lab.

Uryū stood and looked at the Kurosaki men for a long minute as he tried to reorient himself to a world where they could look so beaten. He couldn't, so he wandered over to the gaping hole in the wall to busy his hands with something so he wouldn't feel useless.

It didn't work, but at least he didn't have to see Ichigo's face.

Homura stood awkwardly, unsure what to do. A dark-skinned woman with her dark hair pulled up in a ponytail strode out of a hall. Homura blinked. She knew that magical signature. “Yoru... ichi...?”

“In the flesh,” Yoruichi drawled humorlessly. Her human voice was drastically different from her feline form's voice.

“Um.”

“What?”

Homura looked down at her hands, which were clenched in her bloodied lavender skirt. “When you go to the clinic, can you get me something?” Yoruichi raised a brow in inquiry. “Yuzu washed my uniform and stacked it all on her dresser. It has a cream blouse and black skirt. Can you get it for me? I want to change out of this—” she indicated her costume— “but if I do, I'll be wearing Yuzu's dress. I... I don't think I can do that.”

Yoruichi's face softened and she let out a puff of air. She rested one hand on Homura's head. It was strangely comforting. “Got it. I shouldn't be gone long.”

Left alone, Homura desperately wanted to hide in a closet and forget the day had happened. But she didn't feel she deserved that respite when her... her friends— she had made more friends and gotten them killed a week after meeting them—! She shook her head. Her friends lay dead and their family was devastated. All because Homura had prioritized their usefulness over their safety.

Homura approached the Kurosaki family as though walking on eggshells and slowly knelt across from the men, dead girls between them. When they noticed her, she dragged herself down into the deepest bow she could manage. She held the position and said, “I'm sorry. I should have— I should have been better— I should—” Her voice choked off. She swallowed a sob. “I'm so sorry.”

Isshin and Ichigo slowly looked up at her. A minute later, Ichigo rasped, “What did I tell you about always blaming yourself?”

Homura raised her head to look at him, confused. “W-what?”

Ichigo scrubbed his face with both palms, stared at the ceiling to gather himself, and tiredly looked at Homura once more. “What did I tell you about expecting to be able to handle everything yourself?”

Homura blinked, then sat up and stared. “But... but I wasn't by myself. And I held back in the fight. I could have ended it before— before—” She looked down at her lap, miserable.

“Why did you hold back, then?” Isshin asked hoarsely. One by one, the others in the room started watching the conversation.

“I— I was s-selfish,” Homura said, unable to look at him. “There— there is going to be an attack on Mitakihara on Sunday. Karin and Yuzu said they would help me. I— I was holding back to see how well they fought. I did not want to take them to fight Walpurgisnacht if they were not strong enough to have a chance. But I underestimated the Witch and ruined everything. I should have known better.”

The men stared at her for a long minute. Eventually, Isshin slowly said, “The three of you were fighting creatures in a maze like the one we were in?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Three untrained fourteen-year-olds against some kind of nightmare army?”

Homura knit her brows and peeked up at him through wet eyelashes. “Yes, sir. But I have a lot of experience. I... did not take the fight as seriously as I should have.”

Isshin paused to search her face. “You were trying to find out if you needed to protect them from something stronger?”

Homura squirmed. “Yes? But I didn't protect them from the Witch right in front of us.”

Isshin scowled. “If anyone failed to protect my girls, it was me. I'm their father. I should have noticed something well before now.”

“All of us who are older and have powers should have noticed something,” Ichigo added firmly.

“You shouldn't have to be responsible for the outcome of battles like this,” said Isshin.

“But I am,” Homura argued. “I was there and I did not fight to the best of my ability.”

Isshin sighed. “You made a mistake trying to protect the girls from the big picture instead of focusing on the small picture. It's a trap even experienced warriors can fall into.” He looked her dead in the eye. “Given your age, your good intentions, and having seen the kind of opponents you're up against without formal training... I forgive you.”

Homura stared at him incredulously. “You're... you're not angry at me?”

“How can I be? You're caught in the same trap as my girls. And if I understood you right, this would have happened eventually whether you were here or not,” Isshin said heavily. “If you hadn't been there, we may never have known what happened. Instead of wallowing in guilt, focus on moving forward. Cooperate with Kisuke. Help him try to save their souls. Share information about whoever the hell did this to my baby girls so we can destroy them.”

Both Kurosaki men stared at Homura with fire in their eyes. It was catching. She sat straighter, her expression firmed into resolve, and she nodded. “All right.” Silent tears still trailed down her cheeks.

Isshin sighed sadly and held an arm out. “Come over here.” Homura looked at him uncertainly. He beckoned her again. She shuffled around the girls and was coaxed into kneeling between the surviving Kurosaki family. Isshin took her hand, patted it, and looked at the twins again. Ichigo put an arm around her shoulders and shakily took a deep breath.

All they could do for now was wait for word from Urahara and Hitsugaya. It felt minutely better to not have to wait alone.

Chapter Text

SECHSUNDZWANZIG

TIMELINE X+N

“It's not like Shiro-chan to be late to anything. Especially something this important,” Lieutenant Momo Hinamori murmured to her captain with a worried frown. They stood in the First Division meeting hall with the other captains and lieutenants, the meeting having been escalated to a joint gathering of commanding officers.

Shinji Hirako, reinstated captain of Fifth Division, made a small hrm of unhappy agreement. “I don't like it.” The past few years had led to him developing more than a passing acquaintance with the young captain through the boy's sibling relationship with his lieutenant. Knowing the obsessively responsible kid, Shinji thought Momo's concern valid. He glanced down the line to the contingent from Twelfth, which included its third seat for the special occasion. “Oy, what'd the kid actually say when you called him?”

Akon bowed his head in respect. “Sir. That there was an ongoing incident in Karakura, that the 'things' from Mitakihara are also in Karakura, and that he has identified a lead for the investigation.”

Rangiku Matsumoto, lieutenant of Tenth Division, frowned at her captain's empty spot. She was about to comment when the meeting hall's doors swung open and admitted her young superior. “Captain!” she called out in relief.

Hitsugaya stopped at the foot of the two rows of officers and bowed shortly. “My apologies for my tardiness.”

Captain-Commander Yamamoto grunted neutrally. “I trust you have information to make up for it?”

Hitsugaya straightened. “Yes, sir.”

Yamamoto silently gestured to the empty space in the rows. Hitsugaya strode over to his place. It was obvious to everyone that something had gone very wrong— the boy looked haggard and tense, holding himself too rigidly. No one commented, though, and the meeting commenced with a firm stamp of Yamamoto's staff.

Akon stepped forward and reported the chain of events that had led to the initial survey party and their disappearance. Next, Ukitake reported the batshit crazy events his party had experienced in Mitakihara. By this time, all officers save for those from Eleventh were disturbed to varying levels. Then Captain Kurotsuchi took over.

“I have completed an initial examination of the recovered object,” the mad scientist announced. “Testing of energy characteristics most closely aligns with those of an Adjuchas-class Hollow soul, but is not an exact match. Its material structure is of crystallized reishi. Further testing is necessary. I have yet to determine its origin or function.”

“I can answer that,” Hitsugaya said heavily.

All eyes turned to him. “How so?” Yamamoto asked with narrowed eyes.

“The girl who fled from Mitakihara to seek shelter with the Kurosaki family explained the basics after the incident this afternoon,” Hitsugaya explained. “If she is to be believed, I think we've stumbled upon a long-term atrocity that has escaped our notice for far too long.”

Shinji did not like the kid's use of that word. Brat had too big a vocabulary and too much sense to use “atrocity” lightly.

“'Atrocity' is a strong word,” Third Division Captain Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi commented warily. Count on good ol' Rose to notice that, too.

Hitsugaya took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “According to Homura Akemi, that jewel you found is called a Grief Seed. It is the end stage of a predatory process by which an entity she calls the Incubator tricks girls on the verge of spiritual maturity into selling their souls in exchange for a wish. When they make a wish and agree to the contract, the Incubator tears their souls from their bodies and somehow condenses and crystallizes them in a way that grants girls imperfect access to the zanpakutō they would have if they became shinigami after death. This item is called a Soul Gem. Girls who complete this contract are then called magical girls.”

“Magical girls. You're kidding,” Hirako said flatly, disturbed.

Hitsugaya glanced at him but otherwise ignored his outburst. “In exchange for their wishes, the Incubator obligates magical girls to use their power to fight dangerous, soul-eating entities called Witches. The creature Captain Ukitake's party fought was a Witch.”

The officers in the room made faces in a wide array of disgust and anger. “Making little girls fight? That's sick,” interrupted Renji Abarai, lieutenant of Sixth Division.

Hitsugaya slid his eyes to him. “It gets worse.”

Dread began to creep through Shinji's veins. Momo's brother was not one to exaggerate.

Hitsugaya continued. “Witches hide within pocket dimensions called labyrinths. When they are defeated, the Witch condenses into a Grief Seed, as Captain Ukitake witnessed. When magical girls fight within labyrinths, the... darkness and madness of the dimension, I think, taints their Soul Gems. This manifests as cloudiness or darkness of the Gem. Magical girls use Grief Seeds to draw off this taint. The Incubator instructs them thus far. However, what the Incubator fails to tell potential contractees is that should their Soul Gems become too tainted or should they fall into despair, their Soul Gems will turn into Grief Seeds and the girls will become Witches themselves. It is a process that seems to be similar to Hollowfication. Magical girls are unaware of a method to purify Grief Seeds. The Incubator tells the girls to surrender Grief Seeds to it for 'safe disposal,' but Akemi somehow got it to admit that it consumes Grief Seeds— souls— to convert into raw energy.”

Well, fuck.

“Fascinating,” Captain Kurotsuchi said gleefully.

“Vile,” Captain Ukitake snapped with a sharp glare at the scientist, who ignored him.

“I'll have to experiment... perhaps...? Yes, yes—”

Yamamoto thumped his staff once again to draw everyone's attention. His eyes were opened into angry slits. He glared at Kurotsuchi then turned back to Hitsugaya. “That certainly qualifies as an atrocity, if it is true,” the old man rumbled. “What convinced you of the authenticity of the girl's claims?”

Hitsugaya swallowed and looked angry. “Today we discovered that Karin and Yuzu Kurosaki contracted with the Incubator shortly before the Xcution plot last year.”

“Kurosaki?!” several voices muttered.

Shinji pressed his lips together so hard they hurt. If Ichigo's family was involved—

“What?!” Rukia Kuchiki gasped. Shinji remembered that she had bonded with the girls when she stayed at the Kurosaki residence during the war.

“We discovered this when Karin, in some kind of costume, brought Yuzu's body to Urahara Shop for help. Yuzu was dead— Akemi says she saw her Soul Gem be destroyed by the Witch they had been fighting. Karin... couldn't take it. She went mad in despair and turned into a Witch in front of us. We... we had to go through her labyrinth and...” he took a steadying breath, “put her out of her misery.”

Sounds of shock, dismay, angry muttering, and horror echoed through the hall once more.

“Oh, Captain,” Matsumoto murmured sympathetically behind Hitsugaya. The boy stoically didn't acknowledge her.

Poor kid, Shinji thought to his zanpakutō, Sakanade. He knew of the world-crossing friendship from his lieutenant's teasing of her brother— and knew how happy Momo had been that the boy had actually managed to make a friend at all. What concerned Shinji more, though, was what this was doing to Ichigo. Both as a friend who gave a damn and as a fellow Visored who knew that such a brutal blow could affect the kid's control of his Inner Hollow.

“You witnessed it?” Kurotsuchi asked delightedly. “You must come to my lab and tell me everything. What it looked like, what it felt like— I simply must know! Did you bring it with you?”

“Silence!” Yamamoto roared over Kurotsuchi's morbid curiosity and the noise of the room in general. Everyone shut up, though Kurotsuchi didn't look happy about it.

Hitsugaya swallowed and worked his jaw. “Urahara is compiling a report and studying the Grief Seeds Akemi gave him in hope of salvaging Karin's soul. He requested that I be stationed there as our official liaison because Akemi seems to have accepted my presence. She is skittish around shinigami because Karin and Yuzu told her shinigami used to execute magical girls.”

“How can that be?” Captain Retsu Unohana of Fourth Division asked with her brows furrowed. “Several of us have been with the Thirteen Divisions since its inception, myself among them. This is the first time I've heard anything about this cycle or... 'magical girls'.”

Hitsugaya glanced at her, then the room at large. “Apparently, the powers and weapons granted to magical girls enable them to perform certain shinigami tasks such as Soul Burial and cleansing Hollows. Akemi claims the Incubator told the Kurosaki girls that in the past, shinigami have reacted poorly to the living having such powers and moved to execute them without full investigation. The Incubator claimed to have seen the Quincy genocide firsthand through contracting Quincy girls and said all of this in a way to convince the twins to not tell any shinigami about their contracts. Whether or not it's entirely true, I do not know.”

The four oldest captains remained expressionless. “I see,” Unohana said neutrally for them all, neither admitting or denying anything from the dusty past.

It wouldn't surprise Shinji if it was true. At all. He glanced at his fellow Visored and knew they agreed. They had seen that knee-jerk rejection up close and personal a century back.

He had precious little information, but Shinji couldn't deny he wanted to take the side of the “magical girls” on principle alone.

“The Kurosaki girls did counter that narrative with their own disagreement about the current state of affairs,” Hitsugaya said uncomfortably, “so Akemi does seem to at least partially trust myself and the shinigami in Karakura. Urahara thinks that if he can reverse the damage to Karin's soul, Akemi will solidly align herself with at least those at Urahara Shop. And she is very interested in seeking and destroying this Incubator she speaks of. That will work in our favor.”

The Captain-Commander sat back and thought. “Captain Ukitake, Mitakihara is your jurisdiction, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

The old man tapped a finger against his staff for awhile before focusing again. “Captain Kurotsuchi, you will continue to study the Grief Seed in your possession and confer with Kisuke Urahara about the progress you each make. Choose five subordinates who are versed in the use of the sensors to go investigate Mitakihara and its surroundings. Captain Ukitake, design a search pattern for the area. You will be in charge of five reconnaissance teams. Each team is to be headed by a lieutenant and the officers of their choice. Lieutenants Kuchiki, Abarai, Hisagi, Kira, Hinamori, assemble and brief squadrons to be deployed as soon as Captain Ukitake's plan is sent to you.”

“Ah, sir,” Hitsugaya interrupted.

The old man raised one brow at him. “Yes?”

“The recon teams need to know that the Witches can have mental effects on people both within and outside their labyrinths. They are the origin of the strange suicides reported in Mitakihara. According to Akemi, their madness and despair is... contagious, in a way,” Hitsugaya said with a frown. “The less powerful the soul, the more powerful a Witch's influence is. At its worst, a Witch can inflict something called a Witch's Kiss— an apparent tattoo on the neck that indicates the Witch has taken total control of a subject and intends to compel them to kill themselves and expose their souls to easier consumption. The binding can be removed by putting a hand on one and flaring your reiatsu as though breaking a binding kidō. Or so Akemi said Karin told her. I would suggest that recon teams include only seated officers.”

Shinji's skin crawled. This was Aizen levels of slimy evil.

The Captain-Commander's other brow rose to join the first. “Duly noted.” He glanced around the room. “Your teams will consist of highly seated officers. No one who goes on this mission is to wear anything that would obscure the neck. Be alert.” The lieutenants chorused their understanding. Yamamoto turned to Hitsugaya once more. “You are to be stationed with Kisuke Urahara and Homura Akemi. Learn as much as you can and convince her to keep cooperating. Pursue her if she attempts to flee.”

“Captain-Commander,” Second Division Captain Soi Fon said curtly. “Should we not take this girl into custody and interrogate her rather than coddle her?”

Shinji managed not to roll his eyes, but did curl his lip in disgust. Soi Fon had no goddamn idea how kids worked. Especially powerful brat teenagers who had been fighting without assistance from anyone worthwhile. He'd never met this Akemi kid but he'd bet his hair that she was stubborn as a mule and would rather die than talk in Soi Fon's care. Kid had to be Ichigo-levels of stubborn to survive.

Yamamoto glanced Soi Fon's way. “I would prefer to save that for a last resort. As long as she is cooperating, I see no reason to give her cause to believe the narrative this Incubator has given her about us. Besides, Urahara and Shihoin are with her. They will shift tactics if necessary.”

Meaning that the two former Second Division officers would know when to switch from sweet talk to thumb screws, so to speak. Accurate.

Soi Fon made a sour face but said no more.

Yamamoto looked around the room, then slammed his staff on the floor. “You will deploy tomorrow. Dismissed!”

Isshin woke groggily on Saturday morning, uncertain of how he came to be on a futon in a way that his experience pinged as someone having knocked him out. Probably with kidō, since he felt no pain. Then the horror of the day before descended on him. He rolled upright and desperately looked for his daughters.

His girls lay side-by-side on a futon in the middle of the room, slightly glowing with the energy of Tessai's stasis kidō. Faces relaxed, bodies and hair neatly arranged, they looked like Snow White and Sleeping Beauty indulging in a shared nap. But they were too still, too breathless— too dead.

Isshin choked on a sob and held his head in his hands, forcing himself to breathe normally. Kisuke would help them. Patience. He needed to be strong for his family no matter how crushed his heart was.

Isshin dragged himself into a sitting position and glanced to his side. Seeing his son mercifully sleeping, he looked around the room. Homura was also asleep, but she had propped herself into a sitting position in the corner. Her arms hugged her legs, her chin resting between her raised knees. She looked melancholy even in sleep. Isshin wearily rubbed his face and pinched the bridge of his nose while he tried to sort his thoughts.

He thought of the testimony Ichigo and Kisuke had relayed to him earlier in the week and combined it with what he had learned since his girls—. It made him sick. He wondered what other horrors Homura had seen— what horrors his daughters had seen. What horrors other people's daughters had seen.

Isshin had hated Ichigo's involvement with the Winter War despite understanding its necessity; Aizen considered his son an experiment and absolutely would not have left him alone. Isshin had grinned and borne it to the end, then sworn he would at least protect his younger children from such traumatic and demanding experiences. The failure was a pervasive ache throughout his being. The thought of his girls secretly running around fighting for their souls both broke and burned his heart. His bitterness and rage— at the mysterious Incubator, at the world, at himself— was held in check only by the hope of reversing the damage to his girls' souls. He could remain nominally calm as long as the option of saving his daughters was still on the table.

Still, Isshin dearly wanted to know what this Incubator looked like so he could accurately imagine his options for revenge.

Isshin looked up when there was a light tapping at the doorway. Yoruichi leaned against the frame, face neutral. “Hey,” she said quietly. “Time to get up and eat.”

“I'm not really in the mood.”

“You didn't eat last night. You need something.” She spoke more loudly. “Hey, kids, wake up. You need to eat.”

Homura startled awake and looked surprised that she had fallen asleep. Ichigo groaned, looked around, choked on a mournful sound, and lurched upright as he realized the previous day had really happened. Ichigo's breath caught in his throat. He moved to do something, to yell something, to do anything but sit idly by as his sisters lay dead. His motion was halted by his father's heavy hand on his shoulder. Ichigo looked at him quickly. “Dad—!”

Isshin gripped his son's shoulder harder, trying to ground him. “We have to be strong and rational. We need to keep it together so we can help however Kisuke needs us. For the girls. Do you understand?”

Ichigo took several ragged breaths, tipped his head back to face the ceiling, and gulped. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Yeah. For the girls.”

After a minute of inaction, Yoruichi prodded them to leave to get breakfast. Homura looked unhappy and the Kurosaki men looked torn.

“We can't— We can't just leave the girls all alone...,” Isshin said in a voice that became small and trailed off.

“I'll watch them,” a voice said heavily.

The newly awake people looked around and found Kon in the lion plushie he usually possessed when visiting the Kurosaki house. Homura looked confused as the men frowned harder.

“I'll be fine,” Ichigo said stubbornly.

Kon heaved an irritated sigh and brandished one paw at the young man. “Get your ass out there and eat something. You won't do Karin and Yuzu any good if you pass out from hunger, idiot. So go eat and drag some answers out of that damn mad scientist buddy of yours.”

Ichigo gaped silently. Isshin took a deep breath with closed eyes then patted his son's shoulder and murmured, “He's right. Come on. Kon will take care of them. They're like his own little sisters, too, now.”

“Shut up,” Kon growled without any real heat.

The entire assembly of employees and guests formed a miserable breakfast party. Tōshirō fit right in when he showed up and gloomily sat near his former captain without saying a word. They were nearly done when Kisuke shuffled into the room. He blinked owlishly at them all and blurted, “Oh. Breakfast. Morning. Right.”

No one commented on what an exhausted mess he looked. The scientist was disheveled and missing his hat. There were dark circles under his eyes and he had yet to shave. His body was unhappy about his all-nighter, but his eyes were still sharp. Everyone perked up in hope.

“Got anything, Sandal-Hat?” Ichigo asked.

“I just might,” Kisuke answered. “Clear the table.”

“Shouldn't you eat, too, Mr. Urahara?” Orihime asked.

Kisuke waved her off. “Tessai's been forcing me to eat every few hours. I'm good.” He put a briefcase down and settled at the table as the shop's employees scrambled to clean up. Kisuke took a deep breath and clapped once. “Okay! I don't think any of you care about the sciencey particulars just now, correct?”

“Get on with it,” Jinta snapped.

“Right.” Kisuke opened the briefcase and pulled out something that looked like a smart phone and three glass cylinders that each contained a Grief Seed. “I've studied all three Grief Seeds. I think I understand their basic structure. I'd like to ask you some questions, though, Miss Akemi. Perhaps ask for some demonstrations.”

Homura nodded, face blank. “All right,” she said cautiously.

“Good.” Kisuke fiddled with the smart phone-like sensor device. “Would you mind transforming for me? I'd like to record the energy readings.”

Homura narrowed her eyes and agreed. Orihime gasped, “Eh?! But if it's like in anime, she'll be naked and sparkly! You shouldn't see her naked!”

Everyone blinked and stared at her. Some of the boys blushed. Homura blandly said, “It does not really work that way.”

“Oh.”

Homura remained seated and brandished her left hand. Her ring burst into violet light and reformed as an egg-shaped jewel. Isshin swallowed hard— it was notably dull.

“I'm ready.”

Kisuke frowned. “Your Gem is sullied. Perhaps this should wait until after—”

“It is fine,” Homura interrupted. “It would have to be much darker than this for me to turn.”

Isshin wasn't sure he wanted to know how familiar she was with a Soul Gem's limits. Or how she came by that knowledge.

“If you say so,” Kisuke said doubtfully. He pressed a button. “Whenever you like.”

Violet light flashed along Homura's body and uniform like fluid fire, leaving behind a clean copy of the battle costume the party had seen the day before. The shield materialized on her forearm at the end. Homura looked at Kisuke with a businesslike frown while the other occupants of the room reacted in various ways. “Are you satisfied?”

“Hmm? Yes, yes, quite.” Kisuke tapped the screen for several minutes, apparently playing with the new data. Everyone sat still and watched him until he finally looked up. “Last night you explained about how this Incubator separates girls' souls from their bodies and a sufficient distance between the body and the Soul Gem could temporarily sever the soul's connection to the body, which can be restored via physical contact between the two. Correct?”

“Yes,” Homura said edgily as the others looked uncertain and troubled. The magical girl tilted her head and tensely asked, “Do you mean to ask for a demonstration of that?”

“I understand it's a heavy thing to ask of you, Miss Akemi,” Kisuke answered soberly. “I wouldn't ask if I didn't have an idea I wanted to test before doing anything to Karin's Grief Seed.” He watched her chew her lip and look at him with suspicious eyes. “I propose that you give your Soul Gem to someone you trust to return it so they can move the appropriate distance.”

Everyone could feel an edge of anxiety in the magical girl's reiatsu. She pursed her lips and practically clawed the table as she stared down and thought. Finally, she lifted her arm and willed the diamond on the back of her hand to turn into its egg form. Homura held it up to Ichigo, face tight in a way that suggested suppressed fear. Still confused, Ichigo delicately took it into his hands and looked between the girl and the scientist. Homura scooted back from the table and tried to sit still, but was betrayed by pallor and a slight tremor.

Isshin felt sick. She was submitting to experiments on her soul despite obvious fear. It made him sick.

Kisuke leaned forward and gave Ichigo two smart phone-like devices. “Give one to Miss Akemi. Take the other yourself.” He pointed out the back door, which had been restored by Orihime's power. “Slowly walk away. Aim to go at least....” he trailed off and looked at Homura.

“One hundred meters,” she finished curtly.

“Oh... kayyyy...?” Ichigo said uncertainly.

Isshin tried to keep his breath even. His son wasn't getting what was going on. Wasn't picking up on the risk Homura was trying to downplay. And Isshin couldn't bring himself to speak lest he be ill. He wanted to stop them. But he wanted the information. But he didn't want to harm Homura. But he wanted to save his girls. But Homura was one of hi—

Homura solemnly looked up at Ichigo as he stood. “Just put it in my hand after.”

“Right. I guess.” Ichigo looked at Kisuke. “Should I start?”

Kisuke nodded. Still confused but at least understanding he had been entrusted with something incredibly precious, Ichigo left the building and moved out of sight. Everyone silently watched the nervous magical girl as she knelt rigidly. Isshin wanted to scream. A few minutes later, Homura's costume glowed with violet light and burst away, leaving her school uniform. The smart phone slipped out of her hands with a clatter and she slumped to one side.

Isshin reacted the quickest, scrambling to her side and rolling her to face upright. The sight of her vacant eyes and slack face hit him like a ton of bricks. It was the third time in less than a day that he had seen one of his gir—

“Isshin. Calm down,” Kisuke said, looking at his sensor screen with interest instead of minding the girl.

“Calm?!” Isshin shouted. “She's not breathing!” He moved to start chest compressions, the thought of losing another girl unbearable. “Homura!” He never ever ever ever ever should have allowed this. Never. He was a monster. He couldn't lose ano—

“Tessai, restrain him before he breaks her ribs,” Kisuke said distractedly. “Jinta, go yell for Ichigo to come back.”

Tessai had Isshin pinned to the floor when Ichigo rushed in, took one look, and shouted, “What did you do to her?!”

“She was right. Distance did sever the connection between her crystallized soul and her body.” Kisuke chewed on a pen while looking at energy readings with fascination. Damn him. “Go ahead and put the Soul Gem in her hand like she told you.”

Ichigo hurried to kneel and gently lay the amethyst in Homura's slack hand. The magical girl immediately resumed breathing with a little gasp and a flutter of her eyes. She levered herself upright with a huff and immediately found herself crushed in a desperate hug by Isshin. Before she could react, he shoved her back at arm's length and scrutinized her. “Are you okay?!”

Blinking owlishly at the concerned faces around her, Homura said, “Yes, I'm fine.”

Isshin wilted in relief and shakily smoothed her hair back. “Good. Good. I'm sorry. Good. You're okay. It's okay. Good. I'm so sorry.” He wasn't even sure what he was saying.

“Were you aware of your surroundings?” Kisuke asked. He ignored the frustrated looks sent his way.

“No. That is how it works,” Homura said, pulling away from Isshin and reaching for her teacup with a tremble. “I hope you got the information you needed, Mr. Urahara. I do not want to repeat that anytime soon.”

Isshin glared daggers at Kisuke, willing him to back down.

“Of course, of course. That was more than adequate,” Kisuke replied. “How interesting.” He set his device down and looked at her curiously. “Your Soul Gem seems to behave in a manner similar to Soul Candy— no, a Mod Soul. The main functional difference is that skin contact is enough for the soul to assume control of the body. Soul Candy and Mod Souls require actual consumption.”

Homura tilted her head in confusion. Others made faces of varying levels of understanding and interest.

Kisuke noted her confusion and explained. “Soul Candy and Mod Souls are artificial souls invented by shinigami to possess empty bodies, be they natural or artificial. Soul Candy is generally used by shinigami who have been assigned to blend into the World of the Living while in a false body called a gigai. Its function is to eject the shinigami from the false body and assume control of it while the shinigami attends to business so there is no panic about mysterious dead bodies coming back to life.” He raised a brow in inquiry; she nodded her understanding. “Mod Souls are similar, but they were specifically designed for combat while in human bodies. You met Kon yesterday— he is a Mod Soul with enhanced leg strength and speed. All artificial souls generally assume the form of a capsule when not in use. Your Soul Gem seems to approximate that pill state, but is far more sophisticated.”

Homura stared at him for a moment. “Is that a good thing?”

“As it happens, yes,” Kisuke said with a small grin. “Theoretically, if I succeed at purifying Karin's Soul Gem, I should only have to put the Gem in her hands to revive her.” Hope colored everyone's faces at the pronouncement. “I do have one more test I want to do. More like an observation. And I would like Miss Inoue to participate.”

Orihime threw her hand skyward as though volunteering in school, eyes shining in eagerness. “Yes! I'll help!”

“Good!” Kisuke chirped. He waved a hand at the three cylinders containing Grief Seeds. “All right, this one is Sayaka's, correct?” Homura nodded. “And it is 'full' or 'spent,' as you and the twins used it to cleanse your Gems as much as possible.” Homura nodded again. “And this is the Grief Seed you acquired yesterday, yes?” Homura nodded. Kisuke's eyes wandered to Homura's Soul Gem and back to her eyes. “No one has used it, so you should be able to draw off the taint in your Gem, correct?”

Homura hummed and held out a hand for the Grief Seed, understanding what he wanted to observe. “Do you want me to use the smart phone again?”

“If you would,” Kisuke said politely as he gingerly placed the Grief Seed in her hands. “Lay the phone on the table and your Gem on the phone. Miss Inoue—”

“Yes?!”

“—Have your Shun Shun Rikka watch what happens when the taint is drawn off of Miss Akemi's Soul Gem. I want you to understand the process. My hope is that observing how the contamination is removed naturally will assist your fairies enough to be able to amplify the process to reject all the contamination from a Grief Seed and turn it back into a Soul Gem.”

Orihime's eyes went wide in hopeful understanding. “Oh! I get it!” She gestured at her hairpins. “Ayame, Shun'ō, come out and watch!”

The hairpins flared gold and two small figures darted out from the ornaments. Their appearance and language were indistinct to the others at the table, but they hovered near the Soul Gem as directed.

Homura tipped the Grief Seed against her cloudy Soul Gem with a little clink. Everyone watched as darkness gathered and seeped out of the amethyst like iron filings drawn to a magnet. Soon, the Soul Gem was a more brilliant purple than it had been. Homura withdrew the Grief Seed, going still when the two fairies darted after her hand. She held the Grief Seed rigidly as the fairies flitted around and chattered, then swooped back to the Soul Gem. After a few cycles, they zoomed back to their mistress and fluttered around her head.

Orihime clapped delightedly. “They think they can do it!”

Chapter Text

SIEBENUNDZWANZIG

TIMELINE X+N

Kisuke tried to clamp down his mixed feelings and anxiety. Orihime's power was miraculous, yes, but even she had limits. She sometimes didn't know her limits. So much was riding on whether her Shun Shun Rikka would be effective and he had to be ready to change course for varying degrees of success or failure at a moment's notice. He needed to make their group attractive to Akemi. It would make his life so much easier if she was a willing participant.

He knew what he would have to do if she tried to leave. And that his actions would piss off everyone but Tessai and Yoruichi. Hitsugaya could go either way. The young captain had his orders but he had a personal stake in the situation and a protective streak that rivaled the Kurosakis'. He was a wildcard.

Everyone made hopeful sounds as Akemi returned the Grief Seed to Kisuke, who hummed and looked at it thoughtfully before putting it away. “Do they have any comments about the items?” he asked.

Orihime looked at her fairies expectantly. After some chattering and chiming, Orihime looked back to Kisuke. “They say it might be pretty draining because it'll be complex— they have to reject the contamination and the transformation. Something about the crystal structure being different between the two? They won't know for sure until we try. But they mostly understand how the Soul Gems and Grief Seeds are the same and how they're different, so they should be able to work with it.” One of the fairies chattered. “Oh, Ayame says thanks for having them watch that. It was very helpful. They won't have to waste energy figuring out the best way to do it.”

“You are quite welcome, Ayame!” Kisuke said, making a show of preening. “Would you like to take a look at Karin's Grief Seed right now?”

“Sure!” Orihime cheered.

Kisuke put away the Pumpkin Witch's Grief Seed and removed Karin's from its container. He delicately set it on the table. Orihime held her hands out.

“Sōten Kisshun: I Reject!”

The two fairies floated on opposite sides of the Grief Seed. A translucent gold shield snapped into place over it. Black reishi drifted up and dissipated against the shield like smoke. Isshin and Ichigo gripped the table and leaned forward, staring intensely at Karin's soul. Fifteen minutes slipped by before the black stone shifted color to have muddy traces of red. Sweat beaded on Orihime's temples as the color slowly progressed from opaque dark carnelian to mildly translucent dark garnet. It gained more clarity over the next twenty minutes, shifting to a dark spinel before crimson light blossomed from the crown of the Grief Seed and flowed downward around the silver spindle like flower petals. There was a pulse of energy as the hollow space filled with red reishi. The silver, strawberry-shaped decoration atop the Grief Seed shimmered and filled out with ruby light, the metal shifting from silver to gold. Gold settings burst out and wrapped down the egg-shaped ruby, met at the bottom, and filled out along the bottom to form a golden cup. After one last pulse of light, Orihime's fairies disengaged their shield and wobbled back to their tired mistress.

Kisuke allowed himself to breathe again. Best case scenario achieved. Time for a break before plotting revenge.

Isshin burst into tears while Ichigo broke into relieved laughter. Everyone made celebratory and relieved sounds. Akemi, however, stared with eyes wide as saucers. Flummoxed. Bewildered. Awed. Dumbfounded. Still reeling in apparent disbelief, Akemi shakily reached out and hovered a hand over the Soul Gem. Everyone could sense that it was Karin's reiatsu, strong and pure. Akemi's mouth opened and closed, unable to put what she was feeling into words.

“Well, Miss Akemi,” Kisuke said with a grin. “Now it should only be a matter of reuniting the Soul Gem with Karin's body, correct?”

Akemi stared at him speechlessly for a long moment before nodding jerkily. Ichigo leaned across the table and happily lifted the Gem with reverent hands. Isshin was already in the hall on his way to the spare room the girls were in. Everyone followed in an excited jumble. Isshin lifted Karin's body and cradled it in his lap as Tessai canceled the stasis kidō. Ichigo approached, held his breath, and lay the Soul Gem in his sister's limp hand.

Karin immediately drew a breath and fluttered her eyelids. Isshin sobbed and held her close, rocking her like he had when she was small. Karin's breaths continued to come in gasps. Isshin pulled back to look at her. Karin's eyes jumped from person to person before landing on Yuzu's body. Her face slowly contorted, hands shakily rising to her head.

Karin screamed.

Kisuke's best case scenario slipped from his grasp.

Thirty-five grim-faced, fully briefed shinigami stood in neat ranks near Seireitei's main senkaimon. It was quite the unusual sight, most missions being of a much smaller scale. The five chosen lieutenants stood at the head of the lines of each of their personally selected teams, each with a Twelfth Division scientist already delegated to it. They deployed over the Mitakihara train station as soon as Captain Ukitake issued their orders, then split up to cover their assigned areas. The gloomy skies suited their moods, all subdued and wary for a threat they might have little warning of.

Red eyes in expressionless faces stared skyward from multiple locations.

Kisuke projected concern and confusion while he tried to figure out just how big a disaster this was going to be and how it would affect Akemi's cooperation.

Isshin struggled to hold Karin still as she thrashed and sobbed while hyperventilating. “Karin. Karin, sweetie, it's okay, you're safe, shhh, you're safe.”

“Am not! Am not!”

“Yes, you are, baby. Daddy has you. You're safe. Just breathe. Deep breaths. Come on, deeeeep breaths.”

Karin threw her head back, mouth open wide, and took wheezing gasps as she stared at the ceiling. When she had downshifted into loudly crying, she clung to her father and babbled, “I'm sorry, I'm sorry Daddy, I'm so sorry, oh my God I'm sorry!”

Isshin rocked her and soothingly said, “You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetie. Just keep breathing.”

“B-but I tried to hurt everyone and Yu-yuzu-uu is d-dead and oh my God she was inside me oh my God!” She clutched her chest as though to tear out her heart and started hyperventilating again. “Yuzu, Yuzu, Yuzu, Yuzu—!”

Kisuke and everyone else in the room froze at her words.

Uryū's eyes turned to Akemi. “I thought you were all unaware when disconnected from your bodies?” he asked in an undertone.

Akemi helplessly shrugged and held up her hands, wide-eyed and completely at a loss. These were uncharted waters.

“My guess would be disconnection by distance causes dormancy while the active nature of the Witch was accompanied by some awareness,” Kisuke said with a frown.

“Oh my God I was a Witch oh my God!”

Kisuke cringed. “Oops.”

Isshin tried to keep Karin pinned to his chest as she kept wailing, but she struggled against him. She dropped her Soul Gem, broke free for a moment, and lunged for her sister, but Isshin was able to get his arms around her and pull her back against his chest, still facing out and wailing.

“Bring her back, too!” Karin cried. “You brought me back, bring back Yuzu! Do it!”

Kisuke saw Orihime's uncertain glance and covered his face with a hand to massage his eyes. This was spiraling out of control.

“DO IT! DO IT NOW! WHY ARE YOU WAITING?!”

“Hey, Urahara,” Ichigo bit out, using the his actual name for once. It pained Kisuke. “Just get out Yuzu's Grief Seed so we can help them both, yeah? They'll help each other.”

In the ensuing silence, the various witnesses gradually became aware of Kisuke, Hitsugaya, and Akemi avoiding eye contact with everyone else.

Isshin looked to Kisuke in confusion. “What are you waiting for, Kisuke? Get out Yuzu's Grief Seed.”

Kisuke's heart dropped. He should have explained the situation earlier. It had been cruel to not put upper limits on his friend's hope. Now it would look like he intentionally deceived them all. Great. How to spin this?

Karin sagged back and devolved into a disturbing mix of sobbing and humorless laughter.

Kisuke still hesitated. Bluntness would be... unkind.

“There isn't one,” Akemi said in a strained voice

“What? You gave it to Sandal-Hat back in the place,” Ichigo said with confusion.

“That wasn't Yuzu's,” Akemi answered, looking like she was facing a firing squad. “That was the Grief Seed of the Witch who... who destroyed Yuzu's Soul Gem.”

A heavy silence filled the room. It was like everyone in the room was holding their breaths and staring at Akemi. Kisuke's throat burned as he swallowed his shame that the fourteen-year-old child had gathered the nerve to say it to Ichigo and Isshin's faces before he did.

Isshin turned to Kisuke. “She's wrong, right? You have Yuzu's soul, right?”

Kisuke regretfully said, “Isshin—”

“You have her soul for Inoue to fix, right? Get it out. This isn't the time for your pranks.” Isshin's face was slowly drawing into horrified, desperate grief once more. It was an expression Kisuke hadn't seen since he told the man he was unable to retrieve his newly-dead wife's soul from the Hollow that had eaten her.

“Can't glue it back together if the pieces are all gone!” Karin lilted through her tears with an edge of madness that suggested her alternative contribution was endless screaming.

Ichigo looked back to her, alarmed. “Karin—”

“Can't put the puzzle back together if you burn up all the pieces! Just ashes, ashes everywhere!”

Isshin tried to peer around his daughter's head to see her face. “Karin, sweetie—”

“Ashes won't make pretty pictures anymore they just blow and blow and blow away—”

“What— what the hell? Karin? Karin, look at me!” Ichigo called out as he shuffled in front of her on his knees.

“Yuzu's soul was pretty glitter sparkle-sparkle and it blew and blew and blewww away and wouldn't let me caaatch iii-iii-iiit!” Karin slipped into tired, moaning wails, shoulders hitching with each sob.

Ichigo flinched hard, then whipped to Kisuke with a question plain on his face. Kisuke met his eyes and solemnly affirmed, “Yuzu's Soul Gem was destroyed before the girls showed up in the shop yesterday.”

Isshin went white, closed his eyes, and tried to keep calm while tightening his grip on his surviving daughter. Ichigo whispered a broken little “What?”

“Yuzu's soul is gone,” Kisuke said softly. “I'm sorry. I can't bring her back.”

It killed him to say it. He generally tried to protect the Kurosaki family from the fallout of Aizen dragging the parents into spiritual experiments. He had redoubled that promise to himself after Ichigo's sacrifices— sworn that at least the twins would be kept safe. Now he had to admit failure.

Again.

Deep within his Inner World, his zanpakutō stirred and sighed, You will be of no use if you wallow, Kisuke.

Right. Move through it. Kisuke willed his thanks to Benihime. She just sighed again and gave the impression of shaking her head over her embroidery hoop.

Orihime gasped loudly and threw her arms forward. “Sōten Kisshun: I Reject!”

Confused, everyone cast about for what she was reacting to and followed the fairies to where Karin's Soul Gem lay on the floor. The ruby was darkened and actively dimming. The shining golden shield appeared over it and siphoned off the darkness.

“But she hasn't been in a labyrinth!” Hitsugaya shouted.

“She has descended into despair again,” Akemi explained quietly. “That is enough.”

“So, what, it's gonna keep going dark until she's happy again?” Jinta asked incredulously with a pained look at Yuzu. “Because I don't think that's going to be happening anytime soon.”

“Not exactly,” Akemi answered.

“I'll just keep helping her until she doesn't need me to,” Orihime said with a determined pout as her fairies returned to her.

“Inoue... I don't know how wise that is,” Sado said quietly. “You're pale.”

“This part was easy! The other part was the hard part,” Orihime insisted.

“Ichi-niiiii-iiiii-iiiii,” Karin sobbed. “Don't be mad at Homuraaa, 's not allowed, not, not, not—”

Ichigo turned tearful eyes back to her. “W-what? Why would I—?”

Karin's voice varied from a moan to an enraged shout and back again as she answered, “She tried and did her secret thing and stopped everything click-click-freeze but thAT BITCH SHOT US SO FAST we were already hit when she stopped the clahhh-hahhh-hock.”

Everyone else had been still and silent, so the whisper of Akemi shifting her feet was plain to those near her. Beside her, Kisuke instinctively reacted with swiftness befitting his former position in the Second Division and clamped his hand around her right wrist just as her shield burst into being on her left arm. The rest of her battle costume quickly followed. He was aware of a click and a rattle as he looked at the girl's face and saw she was frightened and deathly pale. Kisuke kept his eyes on the girl and expected the others to help restrain her, but no one moved.

Eyes wild, Akemi turned toward him, twisting her body to face him while swinging her free arm back. She leaned back and tugged her captured wrist hard; he turned to face her properly and tightened his grip to keep her anchored, which he immediately realized was her plan as she used the resistance to generate torque and propel her shield arm up at him in a forceful arc. Kisuke easily caught her wrist, of course, but immediately found himself with no open hand to block the taser aimed perfectly at his chest. She must have dropped it into her hand from her little bag of tricks on her backswing. An instant too late at twisting her wrist to ruin her aim, he did manage to flare his reiatsu in defense soon enough to mitigate most of the damage and pain the attack should have caused him. A strong electrical current sizzling through one's body was far from enjoyable in even a mild application, though. He grit his teeth and rode it out, having experienced far worse in his years in covert ops.

When Akemi realized her escape gamble had failed and gotten her doubly caught instead, her face truly fell into panic. She wildly fought against Kisuke's iron grip on both of her arms but was unable to move them at all. Kisuke twisted her wrist more to force her to drop the taser. It fell, but the cartridge separated from the main body of the weapon so weight didn't pull the darts out of his chest. Bothersome.

Kisuke blinked rapidly. After shaking his head out and smacking his tingling lips experimentally, he said, “That was terribly rude of you, Miss Akemi.” He cleared his throat and worked his jaw a bit. “Clever, and excellent quick thinking, but terribly rude.”

“Let me go,” Akemi breathed.

“No.” Kisuke looked down at the two wires trailing their way up to the darts embedded in his chest. “Ah, Yoruichi will never let me live this down,” he lamented.

Neither shall I, Benihime murmured.

Kisuke quashed his urge to sigh deeply. He looked back at the girl. “You could have killed me with one of your guns, you know.” Not really, but she didn't need to know that.

“I don't want to kill you,” Akemi said impatiently, though everything else about her screamed of fear. “I just want you to let me go.” She kept pulling.

“Oh, really?” Kisuke said with exaggerated interest, tightening his grip and turning to the rest of the group. “Hey, everybody, what do you think I should— do...?”

Literally everything and everyone in the room but he and the magical girl were impossibly still. The world's color had a faded, washed out quality and a bluish cast. Several people were frozen mid-blink. Karin's anguish was a silent tableau. The dropped taser was suspended in midair halfway to the floor. The surreality distracted him for a brief moment.

Akemi capitalized on his inattention immediately, using his grip on her wrists to brace herself while she pivoted on her right leg, sharply drew her left knee up across her chest, and brutally drove the heel of her boot into the side of Kisuke's kneecap. It dislocated with a loud crack as she summoned a hunting knife from her shield, its blade stabbing out at his hand and succeeding in slicing him from the middle of his thumb to a few inches up his wrist before losing momentum and falling away. She must have expected him to let go of her in surprise and pain and topple over. Instead, he grunted with the pain and shifted his stance to balance mostly on one leg, slid his injured right hand up her arm, and tore the shield from her wrist, skinning her left thumb to the bone with the clasp in the process. He slung the disc away with little thought.

Akemi screamed as the world around them reanimated. She desperately lashed out with the same leg, trying to kick him in the groin, but he grabbed her ankle and lifted her leg to throw off her balance. She tried to punch him with her bloody hand, but his height advantage and her awkwardly bent angle let him dodge easily.

Benihime projected respect for the girl's tenacity. He would never hear the end of this.

To the rest of the room's occupants, Kisuke and Akemi went from solemnly watching Karin's reawakening one moment to facing each other, each balancing on one leg as Kisuke held Akemi's arm and leg up in a bizarre ballet pose in the next as a bloody knife and a taser fell to the floor and Akemi's shield rocketed into a wall and dissolved in violet sparkles. It was all topped off with Akemi— inexplicably in her costume when she hadn't been a moment earlier— ineffectively beating one violet-encased fist against Kisuke's chest from an awkward angle as she wobbled on her free leg.

“What the hell just happened?!” Jinta screeched into the stunned silence.

How the hell could Kisuke salvage this?

Karin switched out hysterical sobbing for creepy hysterical laughter.

Kisuke peered around the room as though surprised, pretending to completely ignore Akemi's continued assault. “Oh, my. Well, this is awkward.”

“Your talent for understatement will never cease to amuse me,” Yoruichi droned. “What the hell, Kisuke?”

“What, indeed,” he replied to everyone's immediate annoyance. After a minute of analytical thought in which the captured magical girl struggled with increasing desperation, Kisuke faced her. “I'm guessing this is what Karin meant when she said you stopped the clock? You can stop time, or do something similar enough to it to be functionally the same?”

Sounds of surprise, disbelief, and amazement murmured through the room. Akemi didn't reply; she just kept fighting to get away.

“But physical contact with you must negate the technique. Otherwise, you would be gone already, wouldn't you? And it must have something to do with your shield. Time resumed when I disarmed you. Am I on the right track?”

Akemi was going to break her own wrist and ankle if she fought his grip any harder. He could feel the bones in her wrist creaking under her skin. Careful, careful.

Kisuke tilted his head. “Tessai said he overheard you apologizing to Isshin for holding back in battle. Is this what you meant? Not using this technique soon enough?”

The girl flinched.

He had her.

Kisuke turned pensive. “This is how you move around so quickly, isn't it? You freeze time and don't let it start again until you're safely away.” Upon further reflection, he said, “Ah, that's how you dodged the Witch's fire in the labyrinth, isn't it?”

Akemi stared at him with the wild gaze of prey cornered by a predator. Now he had to turn this whole thing around.

“Honestly, I can understand why you would want to hide this. The prospect is terrifying and there are far too many people who would want to use you for their own gain. It was actually quite wise of you to hide this,” Kisuke said conversationally. “You did a good job of concealing this up until now. I respect that. I never would have guessed this just from sight. I thought you might have some form of teleportation. That would have been interesting. This is amazing.”

“Please don't experiment on me,” Akemi rasped frightfully, eyes suddenly tearful.

Kisuke frowned in surprise. What?

Akemi turned her face to the others and cried, “Don't let him experiment on me!”

“Urahara—!” Ichigo gasped out. The others looked at Kisuke in outrage.

The wily little—

Benihime crooned her interest, then added, You would be a fool to underestimate this one, Kisuke.

Indeed, he thought. His entire grasp of the situation was shaken. He had to regroup. Until then, he had a role to play.

Kisuke blinked innocently, leaned back, and released the girl's ankle. “Of course not. Not without your permission. You'll want to avoid the current captain of the Twelfth Division, though. He's less scrupulous.”

A long silence stretched between them as they looked at each other. Akemi manifested a new shield but didn't use it, just eyed the scientist and his grip on her arm suspiciously.

“What are you going to do to me?” Akemi asked coldly. She had already discarded her mask of vulnerability; or was it the other way around? Had she masked her vulnerability?

“Do?” Kisuke hummed. “I don't plan to do anything to you. Unless you run away— then I will seek and restrain you.” He looked her in the eye seriously. “You are our only coherent—” by which he meant most sane— “source of information on the magical girl system and this Incubator you spoke of.”

“I'm co-oh-herent, you-ou asshole!” Karin protested between ragged gasps.

No one really wanted to touch that.

“The shinigami government—!” Akemi protested.

“Will hurt you over my dead body,” Ichigo interrupted with a snarl.

“Captain Hitsugaya?” Kisuke asked politely.

After a moment, Hitsugaya carefully answered, “I don't see how the specific niche abilities Akemi acquired through her victimization are directly relevant to reports about this Incubator and the magical girl cycle in general. For now. Not unless she moves to use said abilities against souls in general or the Thirteen Divisions in particular. Or if all magical girls can stop time.”

Karin laughed harshly. “Homura's a special snowflake.”

“Then I don't see reason not to be... reserved... in reports. Kurotsuchi is already creepily fascinated by this whole thing.” Hitsugaya looked at Akemi with the stern countenance of a military officer. “Should I perceive you as a threat or should your power become worrisome, I may choose to privately inform the Captain-Commander of it. I think he would see the wisdom in keeping such an ability out of the written record and public knowledge. At our meeting last night, he specifically said he trusted Urahara and Shihoin's judgment with you. I agree. For now.”

After a pause to consider her words, Akemi said, “As long as the shinigami government is aligned against the Incubator instead of magical girls and I am guaranteed safety from experiments or confinement, I will cooperate.”

She would make a good lawyer when she grew up with phrasing like that, honestly.

“Agreed,” Hitsugaya said, inclining his chin briefly.

That was too easy, Kisuke thought. He watched the girl's face, which had smoothed into calm neutrality. Something was off. Why would she fight so hard only to easily give in without an extended argument?

There was a long, awkward pause after Kisuke released Akemi's wrist. No one quite knew what to say. Orihime directed her fairies to heal Kisuke and Akemi's hands and Kisuke's knee. Kisuke picked the taser darts out of his chest.

“She managed to dislocate your knee and tase you, Kisuke? Really?” Yoruichi said incredulously.

“She tricked me,” Kisuke whined childishly, deliberately trying to ease the tension in the room.

“Pssh. All that time in your lab's made you soft.” She gave Akemi a thumbs up. “Congratulations on getting one over on Kisuke. He needs to be smacked down once in awhile.”

Akemi seemed to correctly interpret their little scene as We have no hard feelings about your violent escape attempt. Or at least pretended to rather well.

“Soooooo,” Yoruichi drawled after another minute of awkward silence. “Stopping time. That must be... interesting.”

It was quite alarming, actually. Especially in the hands of a child.

“I wish you could turn it back,” Karin sniffled, calmer than she had been, if only due to exhaustion. “Maybe we could... Yuzu could....” She closed her eyes and covered her face, shoulders shaking. Isshin hugged her close.

Akemi pursed her lips and said nothing, eyes darting to the floor to the wall to the ceiling to the window— anywhere but at a human face.

Several of the room's occupants looked at each other, finding her reaction strange.

“Can you?” blurted Orihime with wide, innocent eyes. Akemi's eyes slid to Orihime, seemingly against her will. “Can you turn time back, too?”

Kisuke stared at Akemi. The prospect was... alarming wasn't a strong enough word.

Akemi didn't answer, face stonily blank. Her lack of a denial drew everyone's attention again.

“H-homura?” Karin asked, voice wobbling with hope.

Akemi frowned and looked at a wall, shifting uncomfortably. She still didn't deny it.

Karin pried her father's arms off of her, flailed to the floor, and crawled to Akemi, her legs too shaky to stand. She knelt in front of Akemi and grasped the girl's purple skirt in white-knuckled hands. Her face was transfixed as though looking up at a goddess. “Can you?” she whispered. “Can you go back in time and save Yuzu?”

Akemi looked down at her friend's tear-streaked face, bit her lip, and seemed to decide to throw her lot in with them. “It's... not that simple. But maybe.”

Kisuke's brain died. Forced shutdown. Blank.

“You've gotta be fucking kidding me,” Jinta muttered.

Karin tightened her grip on Akemi's skirt and tugged. Crying, she asked, “Can you go back and tell me and Yuzu not to contract?”

“No.”

“You just fucking said you can go back in time,” sneered Jinta.

Homura glanced his way. “I can't go that far back.”

“Then what's the point?”

“How far back can you go?” Kisuke asked quietly as his mind rebooted and immediately overclocked.

Overclocked. Ha.

Akemi turned back to Kisuke. “March sixteenth. A bit over six weeks.”

Kisuke tilted his head. “That's awfully specific.”

Akemi stared back. “Yes.” She didn't elaborate.

“That's far enough to save Yuzu, though!” Karin said quickly. “Will you do it?! Will you go back in time?!”

Isshin and Ichigo held their breaths, looking at the girl hopefully. Kisuke drilled his eyes into her and wished he could read her mind.

Akemi shifted unhappily. When she spoke, her voice was subdued. “It is not so much a matter of if I go back, but how much I will be able to do next time I go back.”

Kisuke's mind tripped on that last phrase. Next time?

“There are so many variables that it is extremely difficult to achieve a desired outcome,” Akemi continued. “I have already failed my mission in this timeline again.”

“'Again'?” Isshin murmured with dread.

“What mission?” asked Yoruichi.

Akemi closed her eyes. “To get Madoka... and as many of my other friends as possible through the last six weeks and tomorrow's attack alive, sane, and without turning. Preferably keeping Madoka from contracting.”

There was a long silence as everyone thought through the implications of her stated goals— that her friends died, went insane, or turned into Witches, over and over.

Kisuke delicately asked, “How many times have you repeated the last six weeks trying to save them?”

Akemi didn't answer immediately. At length, she dully said, “I lost track somewhere in the forties. That was awhile ago. I do not bother counting anymore.”

“Oh my God,” Ichigo whispered. A lot of Homura's strange behavior began to make sense to Kisuke— and others, it seemed. Isshin closed his eyes for a moment and scrubbed a hand across his face.

“Even just forty times...,” Uryū said, gaping. “Forty times six weeks... that's four— no, four-and-a-half years on its own!”

Akemi shrugged apathetically. “The concept of 'years' does not hold much meaning for me anymore.”

“How are you still sane?” demanded Uryū. “How have you not given up?”

Akemi glared at him with steel in her eyes. She chose to ignore his concern for her sanity. “As long as there is a chance to save Madoka, I'll never give up. I don't care how hard it is. I don't care how many times it takes. I don't care if I have to take care of all the Witches in Mitakihara and defeat Walpurgisnacht by myself. I will save her.”

Uryū stared, stunned speechless. Akemi had no way of knowing, but she had sown seeds of respect among all of those present.

She is ours, now, Benihime whispered slowly. The Kurosakis will have nothing less. She is already their kin in spirit, therefor she is now ours to protect. And—

This was it. Kisuke's chance to completely undo his failure to protect the Kurosaki girls. This was it.

He could not fuck this up.

Karin let go of Akemi's skirt and sat back. “You're serious about taking Walpurgisnacht down by yourself, aren't you, you crazy bitch?” Akemi just frowned down at her. Karin tilted her head and hollowly said, “You're a fucking self-defeating masochist.” Akemi's frown turned into an offended scowl.

“What is Walpurgisnacht?” Hitsugaya asked with a frown.

Akemi waved her hand dismissively. “It is not important. I can handle it.”

“Bullshit,” Ichigo snapped.

“She told me it's a giant Witch without a labyrinth that's gonna drop on Mitakihara like a hurricane-bomb tomorrow morning,” Karin said. She looked Akemi in the face unrepentantly. “And she said the Witch is so big because it's a Witch collection like a Menos Grande is a Hollow collection.”

Alarmed, everyone stared up at Akemi to see if she would deny it. She didn't. Ichigo screeched, “Not important?!”

Akemi shrugged. “I am abandoning this timeline tomorrow. I was going to see how well Karin and Yuzu fought with me in hope of teaming up with them and Mami and Kyōko next time. Perhaps the five of us would be enough to take out Walpurgisnacht. But I cannot do that now. The outcome of this timeline's fight no longer matters. I will not bother returning to Mitakihara before my turnback point.”

“There's a specific point you travel back from? Every time?” Kisuke asked. He patted down his haori in search of the pen he had... probably left in the other room. His mind raced feverishly. This was it. This was it. This was his lever. He'd help her with the threat to her charges, she'd help him with the threat to his charges. A package deal. Mutual benefit.

Could. Not. Fuck. This. Up.

“Excuse me,” Tessai interrupted. “Forgive me, but this is an awkward place to have such a discussion. Both by available space and... other reasons.” By which he meant Yuzu's corpse, which they had been talking over the entire time. Oops. “Perhaps we should move back to the table?”

It was generally accepted as a good idea, so everyone trickled out of the room. Kisuke and Akemi paused at the door to see what the Kurosaki family would do. They looked torn.

Kon jumped down from the shelf he had fled to in the initial stampede of people. “I still don't really understand what the hell is happening, but you'd better go deal with it if there's a chance of helping Yuzu. I'll stay with her.” That said, the plushie waddled over to Yuzu's head and plopped down. He patted her hair with one paw. “See? She won't be alone. Now scram. Figure out how to fix this.”

Isshin and Ichigo stood and helped Karin up. Ichigo then scooped up Karin's Soul Gem as Isshin helped Karin wobble into the hallway. She froze in the doorway and refused to move for a minute, tearfully staring at her twin. Then she scrubbed her face angrily and croaked, “Let's go figure out how to save Yuzu and fuck up Walpurgisnacht.”

Kisuke wasn't even going to have to convince anyone to do this. They had already decided. They just needed to work out the details.

Chapter Text

ACHTUNDZWANZIG

TIMELINE X+N

Isshin wandered back to the main room behind everybody, unable to stop gripping his daughter's arm so tightly she would probably bruise. If Karin noticed, she didn't care, which was terrifying. Everyone settled around the table in Urahara Shop's back room once more. Ichigo set Karin's Soul Gem on the table where Orihime could see it— just in case. The surviving Kurosaki sister curled up in her father's lap for comfort. Isshin was both gladdened and sickened by her seeking his touch; it was incomprehensibly out of character for her. She had even called him Daddy for the first time since... God, he couldn't even remember. She had been tiny. It was more evidence of how thoroughly her experience had broken her.

He would not vomit. Would not.

God, he wished Masaki was with them.

Kisuke reappeared from down the hall with a voice recorder and a notebook. Once he was situated, he turned to Homura, who was in her school uniform once more. The girl sat across from him, between Ichigo and Isshin. Tessai had served tea, so she was fiddling around with her cup.

Kisuke cleared his throat to call the meeting to order. He looked Homura straight in the eye. “Okay. I think what we need is for you to tell everything from the beginning. That will probably answer a lot of our questions without our having to ask.”

“Everything?” Homura asked with a frown.

“Well, obviously not over forty timelines' worth of events. Tell how this all began. I'm very interested in the original timeline. Give important highlights from there on.”

“...All right.”

Isshin steeled himself. The story was probably going to be awful. Over forty repetitions... what had Homura endured? She implied her friends turned repeatedly; had Homura felt what he felt when he saw Karin's soul explo—?

Engetsu hushed him and soothed him with balmy summer moonlight.

Homura took a deep breath. “In the first timeline, Mami and Madoka saved me from a Witch two weeks after I transferred to our school. The Incubator— it looks cute and calls itself Kyubey to seem harmless— said I had the potential to be a magical girl, but I was too afraid to contract. I went with them to fights sometimes. It all seemed very straightforward. Then Walpurgisnacht came.” Homura paused and stared into her teacup, then breathed deeply again. “I followed Madoka and Mami. It seemed wrong for them to be risking so much to protect the city with no one to... appreciate them, I suppose. I thought I could contract and help if things went badly, but I froze when Mami was killed. I tried to stop Madoka from fighting by herself, but she said it was her duty. She did it— she defeated Walpurgisnacht— but she died. That is when the Incubator came to me again.”

Kisuke's eyes narrowed. “It waited for your greatest moment of weakness and desperation and exploited it.”

Homura nodded. “I contracted. I wished to redo my meeting with Madoka, except I would be strong enough to protect her like she had protected me.”

Isshin tiredly palmed his face and shook his head. Such an innocent and earnest wish. It was something he could see a nine-year-old Ichigo do in the aftermath of his mother's death. Some monster had taken advantage of that broken heart.

“I immediately went back in time,” Homura continued. “I woke up in the hospital the day I was to be released to start school.”

“March sixteenth,” Kisuke guessed quietly.

“Yes.”

Kisuke scratched his chin. “So your time travel is in your head? That is to say, at mind level, writing over your soul or memories at that moment, in a way?”

“I suppose,” Homura said with a shrug. “I have never cared about how it works.”

Kisuke hummed and scribbled on his notepad.

“So what went wrong that time?” Yoruichi asked.

“We did relatively well in that timeline,” Homura continued. “Madoka and I defeated Walpurgisnacht and survived.” No mention of the other girls. Isshin was afraid to ask. “But then Madoka turned into a Witch. That is how I found out about the origin of Witches.”

Those around the table grimaced, shook their heads, or just looked angry.

“So you went back again,” said Yoruichi.

“Yes.” Homura pursed her lips, face somewhere between frustrated and mournful. “I tried to warn everyone. No one believed me. I suppose no one wanted to believe me. Then Sayaka turned into a Witch in front of us and we had to... put her out of her misery.”

There was that phrase again. Isshin hated it.

Homura was silent for a long time, grimly staring at her tea.

“I take it your friends... didn't handle it well?” Uryū said delicately.

Homura closed her eyes. “Mami went insane.” She wrapped her hands around her cup and squeezed. “Mami... she uses magical guns and magic ribbons. When we were standing in the train station after the labyrinth collapsed, Mami restrained me with ribbons so I could not stop time for her and shot Kyōko's Soul Gem. A one-shot kill.”

Various listeners recoiled. “What?!” “Oh my God!” “Why?!”

Homura sighed. “She was crying and shaking. She said something like 'If Soul Gems become Witches, then we have no choice but to die.'” She wet her lips. “Madoka stopped Mami from shooting me by shooting Mami's Soul Gem with her bow and arrow.”

Orihime held both hands to her face, eyes shimmering with tears. “Oh— oh, Homura—”

Isshin mentally reached to Engetsu for help staying grounded. He couldn't allow himself to express his helpless anger. He didn't want Homura to misunderstand it and Isshin could count on his zanpakutō to seethe for him now that they were reunited. He didn't know how he survived their years of separation while stabilizing Masaki's soul. Engetsu took his fury, converted it into lunar fire, and stored it for future use.

He was going to need to fight something soon if Homura kept talking.

Homura deliberately ignored Orihime— and everyone's reactions, really. “Madoka and I defeated Walpurgisnacht again. We were laying in the ruins, both of us about to become Witches, when M-madoka used her last Grief Seed to save me.” Homura swallowed hard. “She asked me to go back in time and keep her from contracting at all. I said yes. Then she—.” She cut herself off and hunched forward.

“Madoka turned into a Witch again?” Ichigo asked gently.

Homura shook her head and covered her face, unable to speak.

Ichigo carefully lay a hand on her back, worried. Glances were shared around the table— what could be worse? Isshin didn't want to know, but felt obligated to listen. Homura deserved to be heard and have her burden shared. She had carried it herself for too long.

“Miss Akemi?” Kisuke prompted gently.

“M-madoka didn't want to become a W-witch, and there was still t-time left before I could go b-back.” Homura drew a ragged breath. “S-so she asked me to sh-shoot her Soul Gem. And I d-did.”

Isshin closed his eyes again and leaned back with a deep breath through his nostrils, trying to control his rage at what fate had befallen the girls; Engetsu was enough to rein it in. Barely. With great effort. If Ichigo made a similar effort, he failed badly, sad outrage at what the girls went through flooding the room. Face unreadable, Karin silently slid out of Isshin's lap, crawled to her friend, and wrapped her arms around Homura's shaking shoulders.

His daughter was still capable of empathy. Karin was still there. Thanks to Homura opening up to them with her greater knowledge instead of taking off at the first opportunity and leaving them to fend for themselves. Homura had risked herself and ended up revealing her greatest secrets because she cared about helping Karin. She did hard things— unfathomably difficult things— because she cared.

Tell her, Engetsu whispered. She needs to hear it.

“You did the right thing,” Isshin said thickly. He opened his eyes and found Homura looking at him, tense and baffled. Like it had never occurred to her someone might think that. Isshin felt like he had aged twenty years since the previous afternoon. He looked her in the eye and tried to project empathy instead of anger. “Knowing what she would go through, thinking there was no way to save a Grief Seed, and knowing that you would soon undo it all... you did the right thing. The hard thing, but the right thing. You spared her that pain, however briefly.”

“But—”

“Shut up,” Karin muttered darkly. “I know what it feels like when it h-happens to you now. You did the right thing.” Her fingers curled into Homura's arms as she whispered, “She was better off that way.”

Isshin's rage collapsed in on itself as something in his heart shriveled up and died.

After a suitably tactful, long pause while Homura pulled herself together again, Kisuke said, “Is there anything you want to add from additional timelines?”

Homura sniffled and thought. “I ha-have come very close to succeeding at at least saving Madoka several times, but whenever I've gotten Madoka to tomorrow alive and uncontracted, she ends up doing some combination of dying, contracting, and turning while I'm fighting Walpurgisnacht. Various things happened that made me learn things I told you about Soul Gems and the Incubator. Otherwise, it's been... a lot of combinations of the same thing, really. People die or turn in different ways, but it's the same set of patterns. Except everyone died early this time.”

Everyone was quiet for awhile as Kisuke tapped his pen and stared blankly at his notepad. Eventually, he asked, “Have you ever had any help dealing with all of this?”

Homura shifted. “Sometimes I can convince Mami and Kyōko to cooperate. I tried going to the police once early on when I was still stupid. That ended about as well as you would expect. The social worker was kind, but....” She trailed off and shrugged sullenly.

The cops probably thought she was delusional, Isshin realized. He could see that triggering psychological tests galore. He both did and didn't want details of whatever disaster had ensued.

“I wouldn't say stupid,” Kisuke mused. “Naive, perhaps, but understandably so. It makes sense to seek help from authority figures when you are overwhelmed by something dangerous.”

Homura made a disdainful sound, obviously still thinking she had been stupid. Kisuke and Isshin sighed.

“Let's cut to the chase,” Yoruichi said frankly. “Are you going to come for us for help next time around?”

“I had considered it,” Homura hedged. “But none of you will remember any of this. I would be a stranger telling you strange things.”

Kisuke rested his elbows on the table and wove his fingers together. “Tell me, Miss Akemi: Does whatever you store in your shield travel back in time with you?”

Homura blinked in surprise. “Yes. Except for Grief Seeds— they disappear. Why?”

The scientist hummed and stared at the ceiling in thought. “That makes things much easier.”

“What do you mean?”

Kisuke eyed her keenly. “We have until tomorrow morning to amass as much evidence as possible, come up with things to give you to convince our other selves you are telling the truth, and cram it all into your shield, of course.”

Homura stared at him, eyes wide.

“Hmmm, I want to investigate why you can't take Grief Seeds with you and how your shield works— it's all terribly fascinating— but I suppose another me will have to study that. I'll have to write down some notes.” His lips curled faintly with mischief. “I wonder if it would be easy or difficult to solve a riddle a future version of you wrote.”

“...You know, Kisuke,” Yoruichi drawled, “Somehow it feels like I should only be surprised it's taken you this long to stumble upon a way to mindscrew yourself.” She disregarded her friend's pout in favor of weighing Homura with a measured glance. “Assuming we get stuff together to convince our... past, future, other, whatever selves to cooperate with you, would you come to us?”

Isshin tried not to hold his breath waiting for her reply. If she agreed, he could save all of his girls—

—And this “Incubator” shall taste our flames as did the Grand Fisher, Engetsu growled.

Homura's mouth opened and closed speechlessly for several moments as she thought. She still wanted the three Kurosaki siblings as allies; she wasn't sure of the others. While she was still unsatisfied that she knew enough about the shinigami and their allies to truly say she trusted them, there were several huge mitigating factors: They fought well in labyrinths. They seemed able to apply science to the situation in a way that could reap future dividends if they were allowed to investigate further. It sounded like there was an entire army she could point at Walpurgisnacht. But the most priceless advantages an alliance with them could reap would be the ability to purify Soul Gems without Grief Seeds and the ability to reverse the Soul Gem's transformation into a Grief Seed. That alone could break the chains that kept her tied to the Incubator no matter how much she hated using its methods to stay sane.

It would be folly to ignore the shinigami's capabilities in the next timeline. But it could be equally foolish to throw herself into their arms without reservations. Caution would have to rule the day.

She trusted the Kurosaki family. They seemed to have her best interests at heart in addition to their shared hate of the Incubator. She felt reasonably sure they would behave the same way in a new timeline, especially if she could prove how badly wrong this timeline had gone for them. They were just that frank, honest, and empathetic.

But what of the scientist?

He seemed genial enough, but Homura was absolutely certain that was a sugar coating over cold steel. Candy and razor blades, just like in Karin's labyrinth. Kisuke Urahara was frightfully perceptive, unusually insightful, insatiably curious, and better at getting her to admit things than she was comfortable with or confident she could resist. He could be a valuable ally or a terrifying enemy.

Homura decided to table that issue until she could think on it in private. Instead, she pursed her lips and said, “My concern would be the involvement of the shinigami military.” Her eyes strayed to Hitsugaya, who frowned but didn't respond. She looked back to Urahara. Her uncertainty and distrust was equal for both the scientist and the shinigami captain, but she didn't want to admit it because the others seemed to trust him.

Urahara's eyes narrowed slightly; how many lines had he just read between? “A legitimate concern,” he allowed with an inclination of his chin. “If you start on the wrong foot with them, it could get quite bad. Second and Twelfth Divisions would be far more heavy-handed than me, should the Thirteen Divisions have no context and want your information. Cooperating with me— with us here in the shop— will be your path of least resistance, as our affiliation with the Thirteen Divisions is informal and we are thus not entirely obligated to obey orders from them. And the Captain-Commander often seems comfortable with having Captain Hitsugaya lead special teams in the World of the Living, so he can help minimize bad reactions in Soul Society.”

Yes, Urahara had read between every single line and was answering both concerns with one reply.

“How can I be sure he won't react in the exact opposite way?!” Homura objected, pretending she didn't notice. “Hitsugaya is a military leader—!”

“He is,” Urahara conceded. “He is also personally involved through his relationships with the members of the Kurosaki family and capable of nuance and discretion.” Homura suspected he was also speaking of himself. “Isshin was once his commanding officer, Ichigo is a comrade-in-arms, and the girls are his friends. He has spine enough to express disagreement to his military peers and defaults to treating unknowns with dignity while investigating them instead of automatically condemning them in a snap judgment. While he can be very exacting and even merciless in battle, he is capable of independent thought and morality and applies such harsh qualities only when appropriate. And Hitsugaya, like many shinigami, has expressed distaste for Captain Kurotsuchi's methods. Should you show yourself trustworthy and responsible to him and appeal to his sense of decency about not wanting to end up in Mayuri's labs, I'm fairly certain your little secret won't find its way into an official report unless there are dangerous extenuating circumstances. Even then, such a report would be discreet and directly to the Captain-Commander to mitigate the chance of others in the command structure deciding to do things to you on their own. Am I correct in this assessment of your character and likely actions, Captain Hitsugaya?”

Hitsugaya, sour-faced, looked like he couldn't decide whether to be flattered or insulted. He reluctantly nodded with a frustrated sigh.

“How are you a hardass and a softie at the same time, Tōsh?” Karin muttered distantly as she stared into space, almost as though talking to herself while still lethargically draped around Homura's shoulders. “I've never understood it.”

Hitsugaya shifted uncomfortably. No one knew how he could answer that— or if he was even meant to answer that at all. He settled for an uncertain frown.

Urahara cleared his throat. When he had Homura's attention again, he continued. “I believe the Thirteen Divisions' reaction, absent the circumstances that have happened in the last week, will depend on how you approach them. I can be a liaison for you— I know how they work.”

“What he means,” Yoruichi interrupted with a smirk, “is that he's pretty decent at talking circles around them and turning a situation to his advantage. Nine times out of ten, he can convince the captains it's wise to let him be the point person for handling local oddities. That odd time out is when the captains insist on there being an official presence, in which case they usually shove Hitsugaya at the problem and make him deal with Kisuke. Or Rukia Kuchiki if the weirdness doesn't merit a captain's attention. Right, Caaaaaaptain?”

Hitsugaya grumbled his agreement while pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache.

“And Kuchiki is like one of the family around these parts,” Yoruichi added with a lazy grin and gesture around the room. “If you go to the Kurosakis first, then come to us at the shop, we can handle how to break it to the higher-ups among the shinigami.”

Homura frowned and tilted her head. “You want me to go to the Kurosakis first? Not you at the shop?” At Yoruichi's nod, she asked, “Why?”

Yoruichi, Urahara, and Isshin all exchanged glances before breaking out in grim laughter. Even Karin managed a dark snicker. Ishida and Hitsugaya sighed deeply. It made no sense to Homura.

“Why, Miss Akemi!” Urahara lilted from behind a fan that mysteriously appeared in his hand to hide a sharp grin. “The first thing you should know about dealing with the Thirteen Divisions— and supernatural conflicts in general— is that having Ichigo Kurosaki on your side is the best life insurance policy you could ever acquire!” He waved his fan at the young man, who looked unamused. “Honestly, the best thing you can do for yourself in any timeline is get Ichigo on your side.”

Homura looked around at all the baffling expressions of general, sometimes reluctant agreement. “Why?”

“Kurosaki is obnoxiously powerful and bizarrely influential among shinigami,” Ishida explained with a strangely resentful respect. “If the Captain-Commander got... overzealous... and decided to move against you in any way, he'd have to plow through a lot of people who aren't directly under his command to do so because Kurosaki is inexplicably good at gathering allies.” He gestured at the people in the room. “He'd have to throw his subordinates against Kurosaki's allies and Kurosaki himself— and much of the shinigami command structure hold Kurosaki in high regard, so giving such an order could sow dissent in the ranks.”

“What? Seriously?” Ichigo asked with innocent surprise.

Ishida pushed his glasses up his nose. “Trust you to be completely unaware of how your antics affect shinigami politics even though you can spout Shakespearean politics for days,” he sneered.

“Hey!” Ichigo looked around. “Tōshirō, is that true?”

A muscle twitched in Hitsugaya's cheek. He scowled at Homura. “Is he going to remember any of this beyond tomorrow?”

Homura warily shook her head. “No.”

Hitsugaya closed his eyes and sighed forcefully. “Yes. Heaven help me. Your power and social influence are the proverbial elephants in the room among Seireitei authority figures. Everyone knows they're there; no one wants to talk about them.”

Ichigo blinked, still surprised. “Oh.”

“Yamamoto must thank God every moment of every day that you are the friendly idiot you are, Kurosaki,” Ishida sniped.

Ichigo scowled. “Hey!”

“It pisses off Soi Fon, doesn't it? Doesn't it?” Yoruichi asked with poorly suppressed glee. “Ichigo's a real bee in her bonnet, isn't he?”

Hitsugaya snorted. “Yes.”

Yoruichi and Urahara cackled. Tsukabishi cleared his throat disapprovingly.

“Ahem. Yes. Er. Anyway,” Urahara said, slipping back into seriousness. “Given a way to convince us to cooperate and shelter you from any bad reactions by the Thirteen Divisions, will you come to us for help?”

Again, Homura opened and closed her mouth speechlessly. It was all so overwhelming. She had wanted help, yes, but hadn't expected anything on the scale they were offering. It could turn out very well, but it could also complicate everything with more variables than she was prepared to handle.

“Homura,” Ichigo said firmly. When she looked up at him, he offered her a pained smile. “You don't have to do this alone anymore. We'll help you. We'll help you save everyone— Mami, Sayaka, Kyōko— and Madoka and Yuzu.”

Homura couldn't help the dismayed frown that revealed her misgivings. “There are just so many potential variables and complications to add....”

“I think you've been scrambling to cover too many angles by yourself,” Isshin said quietly. “Let us step in and help you help them.”

“Juggling fifty flaming batons is less likely to end in disaster if you have more than your own two hands to do the juggling,” Yoruichi drawled.

Homura closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Everyone stayed respectfully silent, recognizing the weight of the decision she was making. That was encouraging. Eyes still closed, she firmly said, “Yes. I'll do it. I will seek you out.” She opened her eyes and solemnly looked from person to person. “Please do as much as you can to ensure your past selves cooperate.”

Among the sounds of general agreement, Urahara loudly smacked his folded fan on the table. “Okay, okay, okay! Listen up!” He tapped the fan tensely, gray eyes hawk-like as he gave out orders. “Everyone is to write down as much as they can remember about where they were and what they were doing from at least the week before March sixteenth to the present. I want Miss Akemi to be able to pick a good time to contact us as we will likely have no time to work that out before the turnback point. I will collect all of these diaries or calendars for Miss Akemi's reference. Next, all of you are to write something to your past selves to convince them to cooperate. Mention how badly this has all gone, mention deeply personal secrets, package up unique trinkets, I don't care as long as it would convince another you they're not being pranked. Write them out by hand— I want your past selves to recognize your handwriting. I will then use a reishi sealant on the envelopes or boxes or whatever you put together—”

“Say what?” interrupted Ichigo.

“Think of it as an old-timey wax seal,” Yoruichi said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It'll seal whatever it is with some stuff that will be imbued with your reishi. It's done for top secret communication to ensure integrity of information and source identification. You'll be able to tell you're the one who sealed it and no one else has opened it. There's also the more complicated option of setting a reiatsu key so only the intended recipient— you— can open it. So your stuff could be private from Homura, too.”

Homura didn't like that. The technique sounded fascinating but she did not like the prospect of being unable to fully access something in her shield. And it could easily be used to convey directions to work against her. It made sense strategically to convince the others, but still.

“Yes, yes,” Urahara said impatiently. He slapped his closed fan into his open palm. “My duty will be to amass and organize as much of the relevant data as possible. As a bonus, that will be enough to convince another me on its own.” He looked at Homura. “What is our deadline?”

“Approximately eight o'clock tomorrow morning, to be safe,” Homura answered curtly. “Walpurgisnacht descends around that time. My turnback point is roughly an hour afterward.”

“There are five recon teams in the Mitakihara area right now,” Hitsugaya said with a frown. “What do we do about them? Do we warn them? Do we warn anyone?”

Urahara frowned. “Telling the Thirteen Divisions about the time travel will cause unnecessary alarm and be too distracting to Twelfth. Dealing with them will slow us down. Really, we probably don't have to warn them about Walpurgisnacht, either. Anything that happens in Mitakihara tomorrow will be undone, anyway.”

Hitsugaya looked doubtful. “Even if it's to be undone, leaving them to be surprised by a massive enemy doesn't seem... ethical.”

Homura eyed him and considered what Urahara had called the shinigami's sense of decency. Hmmm.

Urahara hummed and smacked his fan in his palm. “I'll contact Twelfth later. I'll give them an edited brief about the situation in exchange for more of their sensor data. It should give them time to warn the recon teams but not enough to really pick at the threads of the report, so to speak.”

Hitsugaya inclined his chin in acknowledgment and Homura noted that the scientist had taken his concern seriously despite his youth. Hmmmmm.

Urahara turned to Homura. “While everyone else is writing to their past selves, your job is to write as much as possible about Walpurgisnacht, magical girls, and the Incubator as you can without even hinting at time travel. If you know anything because of repeated experience, find a way to lie and explain it with something different. Got it?” Homura nodded seriously. “I'll send that off to Twelfth when you're done so they can stay busy playing with it, then I'll include a copy in our little time capsule.” He went quiet and stared into space, eyes unfocused as he thought through the many things they needed to do.

“Have any more marching orders for us, Kisuke?” Yoruichi asked when he didn't say anything for a minute.

Urahara cocked his head to one side and frowned. “No.” He glanced around the room with hard eyes and smacked his fan on the table again. “Whatever you do to prepare, be back here by midnight. Dismissed!”

Homura watched everyone chattering and dispersing and rummaging for supplies. She had forgotten what it felt like to be part of a team with a plan.

Chapter Text

NEUNUNDZWANZIG

TIMELINE X+N

Urahara Shop was closed for the day as it hosted a dozen people working on the strangest essay assignment ever. They staked out different parts of the shop. Ichigo, Uryū, Orihime, and Chad claimed a spare room so they could coordinate to figure out where they had all been in the jumble that was their life in a shared condo between two different colleges in a big city. Tessai, Jinta, and Ururu holed up in the stock room. Yoruichi had stalked down the hall after Urahara as he returned to his lab. Karin's father had retreated to the spare room that held Yuzu's body with a pen and a spiral notebook.

Karin hadn't been able to bring herself to go back to that room to stay near him, so she sat at the dining table with Homura and Tōshirō. Her Soul Gem was a shiny little centerpiece at their table— everyone had insisted she leave it out where its status could be monitored so Orihime could be fetched to purify it if need be. It was irritating. The jewel was pretty, but she didn't want to look at it. The Soul Gem felt like a curse now. She looked down at her paper but couldn't focus enough to write much, so she watched her friends. Homura was industriously typing on a laptop Urahara had provided to her. The slight changes in her facial expressions as she typed particular passages was sufficiently distracting for awhile, but Karin got twitchy so she looked at Tōshirō. He was scowling at a notebook, sometimes scrawling things before glaring and scratching them out, other times looking deeply sad and tired. It was more depressing than watching Homura, so Karin watched Homura until she got too twitchy to sit still.

Karin abruptly stood. Her friends looked up at her in worried surprise. Tōshirō opened his mouth to say something, but Karin interrupted him and blurted, “Toilet.” He shut his mouth so fast she wondered if he had literally bitten his tongue. The thought entertained her until she got to the bathroom. She didn't do anything there but shut the door and stare at a wall with the lights off. The dim, silent stillness and lack of worried glances burning against the back of her head calmed her. The lack of outside distraction allowed her mind to dwell on the memory of her sister's corpse strung up inside her own rib cage, though, so it was a wash.

Eventually, Homura came and knocked on the door to check on her. Karin scrubbed the tears from her face and followed her friend back to the dining room. Instead of approaching the table, she veered off into the kitchen with vague words about food that she immediately forgot. She stood in the kitchen and looked around blankly while scratching her ribs, not really sure why she had gone in there.

When Tessai walked in five minutes later, the drawers and cabinet doors were in disarray as Karin shuffled through a selection of utensils. Rather than startle, she slowly looked up at him and blinked owlishly. After a pause to make sure the knives were all still in their block— rude— Tessai asked her what she was looking for.

Karin blinked some more, wondering the answer to the question herself, and looked back at the drawer. She held up a simple nutcracker— two steel arms connected by a hinge. “Do you have walnuts?” she blurted. “I really want walnuts. I need to— I want—” She faltered.

Tessai eyed her as he carefully began closing cabinets. “No need for the nutcracker. I have some shelled walnuts in a jar—”

“No!” Karin objected with a childish pout. “I wanna open them.”

“Why?”

Karin fidgeted, held the nutcracker lever up by one side and rocked it so she could watch the loose side clack back and forth like some novel invention. “Can't sit still. I gotta do something.”

Tōshirō wandered into the kitchen, probably concerned by her long absence. Worrywart. “Are you okay, Karin?”

Karin gave him a distantly offended look as she repeatedly opened and closed the nutcracker, click-squeak-click-squeak-click-squeak. “Tessai won't get me walnuts.” Her tone said Can you believe the service in this place?! Karin used her free hand to reach across her chest and scratch her arm before rolling her shoulders. She felt uncomfortable in her own skin, felt like her eyes were hollow as the sockets of a bare skull. Did she even have eyes? Must, if she could see. Maybe. Hm.

Tōshirō just stared. It was kinda funny. “Uh, what?”

Her reply was flat and without inflection. “Tessai wants me to eat walnuts without shells but breaking shells is the fun part and I want to do it but he won't let me but I want to do it and you can't crack shells when walnuts are already shelled the shell is all gone how are you supposed to shell them?” Click-squeak-click-squeak-click-squeak. It was a pleasant sound.

“Oh... kaaaay...?” Tōshirō looked at Tessai. They thought she was too distracted by the tool to notice the silent conversation they had with furtive facial expressions that expressed concerns for her sanity. It was as touching as it was dumb. They cared.

Maybe they'd care enough to get her some goddamn walnuts.

“We have a small amount of whole walnuts in the shop,” Tessai said slowly. “Why don't you go sit at the table while I get them? If you want more than we have, I'll send Jinta out to buy some.”

Score!

Karin put her nose up snobbily and wandered out of the kitchen with an airy “If you would, Tessai.” Like an aristocrat condescending to a servant. God. She'd lost a sister and her eyes felt like rocks; getting her some walnuts was the least they could do for her.

What the hell? Lieutenant Renji Abarai thought as his team reached the center of the bizarre house of mirrors they had entered upon detection of an anomaly in far northern Asunaro. Fighting their way through the maze that took distinctions between things like “walls and floors” or “up and down” as vague suggestions had been weird enough, but here they were in a cathedral completely made of stained glass and cracked mirrors. The icing on the cake was the demented living kaleidoscope monster of shifting stained glass on the other side of the chamber. Stranger still, it was getting its ass handed to it by girls in beribboned costumes.

“Uh, your orders, sir?” one of Renji's subordinates prompted when they had been standing in the same place for two minutes.

“Hold your positions,” Renji ordered distractedly. He had half thought Hitsugaya was out of his damn mind at the meeting— or perhaps hoped so— but here were real-life magical girls fighting a living nightmare before his very eyes. Renji analyzed how the girls fought. They moved fluidly, anticipating one another's moves with the ease of frequent teamwork. He wasn't sure what the hell the bespectacled girl in white and indigo was doing wielding a big book in battle, but something like kidō occasionally spewed from its pages so he decided to ignore the part of his brain that screamed it was the stupidest weapon ever. The orange-haired girl wearing an orange, white, and black equestrian outfit without jodhpurs was randomly darting in to kick the shit out of the monster with her spiked boots. Colored glass would explode in all directions, leaving metallic framework behind. The two girls soon had the monster reeling. Both leapt into the air above the Witch. The orange girl unsheathed and expanded some kind of magic fucking wand from a scabbard on her thigh while the indigo girl snapped her book flat and slid the covers apart at the spine, whereupon they turned metallic and sharp and formed the weirdest double-headed polearm he had ever fucking seen. The two girls dove with a synchronized shout and pinned the Witch to the ground from two sides. Renji wondered what the point was until a previously unseen girl in a poofy white dress stood, braced herself, and leveled a tall white staff at the monster. A wide, intense beam of white reiatsu obliterated the central mass of the Witch. The creature and the labyrinth immediately wobbled and faded.

Behind him, Renji heard the team's scientist mutter a long whoaaa. In his own head, he agreed: That had been a lieutenant-class attack. Something like standing near his friend Rukia while she practiced firing Sōren Sōkatsui— the Seventy-Third Way of Destruction out of Ninety-Nine.

What the hell. How were these girls so powerful?

The entire party warily watched the Grief Seed drift to the roof of the salon where they had found an anomaly. The girl in the poofy white dress pushed her long black hair behind her ears and knelt to retrieve the Grief Seed with a regretful expression. Bookworm noticed the shinigami and snapped into a defensive stance. Carrot-Top and Poofy reacted instantly, the former assuming her own defensive pose as the latter tucked the Grief Seed in her top while she retreated behind the other two girls and brought her big staff to bear once again.

The shinigami all remembered their briefing: Some magical girls will aggressively defend their territory. Proceed with caution.

Everyone stood still as statues in the sunset, no one wanting to touch off a fight. Finally, Renji slowly raised his empty hands to his sides and firmly called out, “We don't want to fight you.”

Poofy managed to look worried, confused, and hopeful at the same time. Bookworm and Carrot-Top squinted suspiciously. Bookworm in particular had the sharp look of someone analyzing everything she saw in minute detail. “Who are you?” she snapped.

“Lieutenant Renji Abarai of the Sixth Division of the Thirteen Court Guard Divisions.” He nodded a respectful greeting.

“That means nothing to me,” Bookworm said coldly.

“We're shinigami.”

“Say what now?” blurted Carrot-Top.

“Ehhhhhhhhh? Really?!” Poofy asked excitedly, red eyes wide with curiosity. “Shinigami are real?!”

“Yeah.” Renji drawled, his lips twitching as he was distinctly reminded of Orihime Inoue. “This is where I go all 'Whaaat, magical girls are real?' and we all stare dramatically as the episode ends, right?” He tipped his head westward and smirked. “We even have a sunset in the background.” Renji could feel the confusion in his officers— they hadn't spent as much time blending into the World of the Living as he had during the war. He had long felt that temporary assimilation would serve him well as time went by. Here he was, being proven right. Hell yeah.

Poofy burst into giggles. She dropped her staff— which dissolved into white sparkles— and clapped with delight. Carrot-Top and Bookworm looked torn between grimaces and affectionate eyerolls. Poofy clasped her hands behind her back and leaned forward playfully. “What'll happen in the next episode, Mister Shinigami?”

Renji noted that while her face was cheerful and warm, her eyes were watching him keenly and she stayed behind her friends. So she wasn't completely naive. He approved. “Pretty sure we'll have a peaceful conversation about why us shinigami are here now when we haven't been before,” he answered with a shrug. “Talk about how we're here to figure things out and help you, that kind of stuff. Hopefully end with us being friends who work together to protect the people with no powers while we figure out how to stop Witches from appearing so girls like you don't have to fight.” Lure cast; would they bite? Did they know? The intel he read overnight said most magical girls didn't.

All three girls went utterly still. Poofy's face went carefully serious. Bookworm and Carrot-Top looked grim. The atmosphere on the roof became tense once more.

Bookworm scowled. “Do you even know where Witches come from?”

Renji crossed his arms over his chest. He was pretty sure they knew, but just to be sure.... “Yup. A magical girl from Mitakihara stumbled upon a shinigami and told him about Soul Gems, Grief Seeds, and Incubators.”

Hatred burned in Bookworm's reiatsu so fiercely it showed in her blue eyes. “You know about the Incubators? What they do to girls?”

“Yep.” He kept his face grim. “It's sick. The shinigami brass are pissed that they've managed to sneak around messing with souls for so long.” Renji tilted his head. “The magical girl who provided our intel said most magical girls don't know where Witches really come from. How did you learn?”

“The hard way,” Carrot-Top said bitterly.

“There used to be seven of us,” Poofy said sadly.

Renji sighed and closed his eyes. “I see.”

“Why do shinigami care about the Incubators?” Bookworm demanded.

The lieutenant looked to her and let his frustration show. “We're guardians of human souls. We protect them from corrupted spirits and help them pass on. We should have stopped the things from messing with souls like they are. It's a failure we want to correct.”

“To save your wounded pride?” Bookworm said scathingly.

“To an extent, I guess,” Renji admitted. “For some more than others. For me, I just think it's sick. There was a mess south of here where a human ally of the shinigami lost one sister to a Witch and another sister to becoming a Witch. I knew the kids a bit and their brother is a good friend. It's personal for me.” His captain would probably censure him for being so frank, but he let his instincts lead him. The girls obviously had personal grudges against the Incubators. Putting himself on equal footing with them seemed the smart thing to do to get them to cooperate. “If there used to be seven of you... well, I'm guessing it's extra personal for you.” He waited, giving them a chance to respond, but they all just looked at him with the kind of thousand-yard stares he saw on the survivors of Hollow-hunting missions gone catastrophically wrong. Seen-your-buddies-torn-apart-and-eaten wrong. It was unsettling to see the expression on the faces of such young girls. Renji nodded slowly. “Sooo... how do you feel about stopping this Incubator thing?”

“We tried,” Carrot-Top snapped, obviously frustrated. “They just sat back and waited for us to get tired and fail.”

Bookworm looked mournful. “As long as we have Soul Gems, we'll need to fight Witches and use the Incubator to keep from falling ourselves. Trying to defy that system from within brought only insanity and death.”

Poofy had nothing to say, but she averted her eyes as her face fell into melancholy. She reached up and brushed a white-gloved hand against one of her silver jinglebell earrings like it was a sacred object.

Renji reached up and dug one finger under his bandanna to scratch his temple. “Well, no promises, but we have some people looking into ways of reversing the damage to Soul Gems without whatever that thing is.”

Shock. “What?! Really?! We tried that! What have they found?! Are you sure?! When will it work?!”

Renji held his hands up and waved them in a cautioning gesture. “Whoa, slow down. No promises. The scientists looking at Grief Seeds and Soul Gems have ideas, but nothing concrete yet. They're the most scary-smart shinigami around, though, and a magical girl is helping them. So cross your fingers, I guess.”

“Is it Mami?” Poofy asked hopefully. “Mami's from Mitakihara, and she's really helpful and nice! I bet she's helping!” She smiled and bounced expectantly.

Renji thought back to the intel dossiers. “Uh... Mami Tomoe?”

Poofy looked completely lost. “I dunno?”

Carrot-Top looked dismayed. “Kazumi, what are you on about? Who's Mami?”

Poofy— Kazumi— pouted cartoonishly. “Mami is the magical girl who saved Mmeeeee.” She looked embarrassed for a moment, then laughed. “She had curly blond hair and wore yellow and made guns fall out of her hat and protected M-me with ribbons and called her attacks in Italian and—”

“Oh. That one,” Carrot-Top said with a bit of dull surprise.

“She's so cool!” Kazumi gushed. She turned to the shinigami with stars in her eyes. “Mami's the one helping, right? Right? I wanna help, too!”

Renji stared blankly, unsure how to proceed. Carefully? Dodge. “Uh, the name of the magical girl helping us is Homura Akemi.”

Kazumi mumbled a crestfallen, “Oh.”

Bookworm eyed the shinigami carefully. “You mentioned a Mami Tomoe, though. What of her?”

Dammit. Busted. Renji sighed. Deflection wasn't his strong suit. “The intel from Akemi listed a Mami Tomoe as killed in action. I dunno if we're talking about the same girl, though.”

Kazumi teared up and looked heartbroken. Renji really didn't know how to handle that.

Bookworm sighed and lowered her polearm, then let it dissolve entirely. Stepping to Kazumi's side as the girl began to cry, she looked back at the shinigami. “I'm Umika Misaki. This is Kazumi Subaru—” she squeezed Poofy's shoulder and was promptly wrapped in a hug— “and this is Kaoru Maki.” Carrot-Top waved silently. Umika shared a significant glance with Kaoru, then turned back to the shinigami. “Let's continue this at our house instead of this rooftop. I think we're going to be talking a lot and we may as well be comfortable.”

“That's nice, yeah,” Renji said, scratching his head. “Your parents won't notice you talking to invisible people?”

“You're invisible?” Kaoru blurted. “But you're right there!”

Umika looked interested at that point, but let it slide. “Our parents are overseas. We manage.”

“If you're sure, yeah,” Renji reluctantly agreed. Their intel could be priceless. But the assignment.... He glanced at his team. They were tired from a day of patrolling and would have to strike camp soon anyway. “We'll have to report to our superiors before we go. We already lost one team to a Witch before we knew what they were; no use letting the commander think he's lost another.”

Umika inclined her head regally. “That is acceptable.”

Renji eyed the three girls, two hovering around and comforting the third, as he dug out his Soul Phone. Poor kids.

Beady red eyes watched the encounter from atop a nearby apartment building. The creature's white ears flattened back like a displeased cat's as the magical girls led the shinigami across the rooftops.

The sky outside the windows of Urahara Shop was brilliant orange. Homura was absently chewing one nail while editing her censored pseudo-text on all things magical girl. Hitsugaya was tiredly copying his most acceptable rough draft of a long letter to his past self. Karin was completely absorbed in messing around with walnuts.

Mr. Tsukabishi had sent Jinta out to buy a large quantity of the nuts when it became apparent that the repetitive task of cracking them, eating the insides, and making a pattern out of shells on the table was unexpectedly soothing for the girl. Karin had pulled her Soul Gem closer to her edge of the table and built an intricate design around it. She alternated shells between upright and upside-down, stacked some, and so on, making ever-widening rings around the Gem's golden pedestal. Homura and Tōshirō had long since come to tolerate the constant squeak-CRACK of the nutcracker. They sat in wordless near-silence for a long time.

Out of the blue, Karin conversationally said, “I'm sorry I hit you, Homura. And I'm sorry I blew fire at you guys.” squeak-CRACK

Homura and Tōshirō froze and looked up at her, dreading what they would see. Karin just kept calmly cracking and arranging walnuts, face mostly aloof. squeak-CRACK

“That wasn't you,” Hitsugaya mumbled as he glanced away.

“Yes, it was. I even remember doing it. So I'm sorry.” squeak-CRACK

Hitsugaya looked like he might protest again, but Homura spoke up first. “We forgave you even before the labyrinth had collapsed.”

After a long pause, Karin murmured, “You two are good friends.” Said friends looked at her again, but she didn't take her dull eyes off her project. squeak-CRACK

An uncomfortable silence dragged on for a few minutes. Karin eventually took a deep breath and asked, “Homura. When you go back in time, everyone will be better, right?” squeak-CRACK

Homura blinked and looked up at her. “Yes.”

Karin looked like she was thinking about that answer. “Even if their souls were destroyed, they'll come back?”

“Yes.” Homura guiltily avoided eye contact by watching the girl's hands work. “Yuzu's soul will be just as it was on the March sixteenth you remember.”

Karin bit her lip, but still kept her eyes on the nutcracker. “W-will they remember any of it?” she asked in a wobbly voice.

Homura closed her eyes. “No. When I go back, it will be as if nothing after that point had ever happened. I am the only one who remembers anything.”

After a few shallow breaths, Karin whispered, “That's good.” squeak-CRACK

Homura's heart hurt. It really wasn't good— for her, anyway. But for Karin— “Yes.”

They fell back into silence, Homura and Hitsugaya reluctantly returning to their tasks when it seemed Karin had drifted off into her own little world again. Ten minutes later, Karin quietly said, “I'm really sorry about this.”

squeak-crack-PING!

Alarmed, Homura and Hitsugaya looked up in time to see Karin's Soul Gem shatter in the nutcracker.

Chapter Text

DREIßIG

TIMELINE X+N

It took a moment for Homura's brain to push through shock and kick into gear. With a cry of dismay, she materialized her shield as quickly as she could and immediately froze time. Her first thought was to fetch Orihime with the time-stop intact, see if maybe the Soul Gem could be repaired by her godlike power. Then she looked at Karin's face.

“I know what it feels like when it h-happens to you now.”

Karin's eyes had already gone blank once again, but what caught Homura's attention was the expression on her face. The girl had apparently shattered her own Soul Gem while deliberately looking straight at Homura in expectation that her friend would try to save her. Karin's empty eyes bored into Homura from an expression of haunted pleading.

“She was better off that way.”

Homura understood the implied request— let me die— but recoiled from it. She was overcome by white-hot rage— how dare Karin do this in front of her like this, knowing what she had seen? How it had hurt her? Homura wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her fiercely. But she reined herself in.

“I tried to hurt everyone and Yu-yuzu-uu is d-dead and oh my God she was inside me oh my God!”

Because really, she understood why Karin would make that decision. Homura momentarily put herself in Karin's place, imagined remembering a twisted version of herself so protective of Madoka that she dragged her corpse along into her nightmare world of her own creation and—

Unbearable.

So Homura couldn't blame Karin for coming to this decision. Her anger left as suddenly as it had come, leaving behind exhaustion. She sat back and dully stared at her friend. After taking a minute to clear her head a bit and brace herself, she let time resume.

Hitsugaya rose to his knees with a wordless shout as Karin's body slumped onto the table through the evaporating shards of her Soul Gem and scattered walnut shells in every direction. He hurried around the table, urgently calling Karin's name. Her body was doll-like when he lifted and turned her. Desperate, he looked at Homura and the shield on her arm. “Akemi! Stop time! Get Inoue!”

Sounds of alarm drifted into the room from various points in the shop as people registered the sudden disappearance of Karin's reiatsu. Homura stared numbly at Karin's slack face. “I tried. I was too late.”

“INOUE!” Tōshirō roared as the sound of people running echoed through the building.

Orihime actually shoved Ichigo out of her way at the door as she engaged her Shun Shun Rikka at a run. The fairies streaked across the room and formed their glowing shield over Karin and Hitsugaya. Nothing happened. A fairy chimed something sadly, causing Orihime to cry, “Keep trying!”

Urahara entered the room, surveyed it with a glance, and locked onto Homura. “What happened?”

Homura blinked at him, still in shock. She slowly pointed at the abandoned nutcracker. There was no sign of Karin's Soul Gem. Urahara's mouth turned down. Mr. Tsukabishi put a hand over his face and slowly shook his head. Isshin ran into the room, calling his daughter's name. He pushed past his son, who had stopped in his tracks at the sight of his sister. Isshin knelt beside her as Orihime tearfully disengaged her fairies.

“What happened?” Isshin demanded breathlessly.

Hitsugaya's mouth worked for several moments before he could stammer, “Karin— she— Soul Gem— she— s-suicide.”

Ichigo gasped behind him as Isshin covered his mouth and hunched tensely. Isshin took a few deep breaths and straightened. He held out shaking arms; Hitsugaya shifted Karin's body into them. Isshin held her close and rocked her, breathing hard but otherwise too emotionally battered to express anything.

In Homura's head, she heard echoes of the conversation that morning— it was the right thing to do— and wondered if he felt complicit in his daughter's suicide. Homura felt complicit and she hadn't said anything like that. It was one thing to say those words in abstract and an entirely different thing to hold his daughter's body after she sought the same end. The injustice of it all burned in Homura's chest, rose in her throat, escaped from her mouth.

“This won't happen next time.”

Homura's voice rang clear in the silence. Attention turned to her. She clenched her fists tightly, mouth drawn tight as she controlled her breathing and felt like she was facing a firing squad. “This won't happen next time,” she repeated. “She won't remember this, you won't remember this, and it won't happen next time. It won't.”

She was trying to convince herself as well as them, but Urahara was the only one who looked like he knew that. Thankfully, he held his tongue. He just nodded curtly and looked around the room. “As sad as this is, we have to move forward with our tasks so we can ensure it doesn't happen in the next timeline.”

“What?!” Ichigo snarled. “Just like that?! 'Your sister deliberately destroyed her own soul, please go finish your essay'? Really?!”

“Cold,” Jinta muttered in agreement.

Isshin took a deep breath and gently stood. “I'll keep writing,” he croaked, then carried Karin's body down the hall gingerly as though every step made him ache.

Ichigo wavered uncertainly, angry and powerless. Sado gripped his shoulder and grounded him. “The best thing you can do to save her is continue the project,” Sado murmured. Ichigo covered his face, nodded jerkily, and staggered back toward the room the friends had been using to collaborate. The three flocked around him supportively.

Homura would not be jealous of Ichigo and his friends. Not in this situation. Would not.

(She was.)

The others trickled back to where they had come from until only Homura, Hitsugaya, and Urahara were left in the room. Gloom settled over them. Hitsugaya avoided meeting their eyes as he had with everyone who had already left; Homura stared Urahara straight in the eye and tried to disguise her uncertainty with defiance— dared him to call her out for her empty bravado.

He chose to comment on neither. “Miss Akemi, Captain Hitsugaya, have you completed your assignments?”

Hitsugaya mumbled something and shuffled back to the table, subdued, then picked up his pen and began to write unsteadily. Homura nodded and answered, “I am satisfied with it for now. I presume you wish to review it before you forward it?”

“Indeed, I do,” Urahara murmured.

Homura felt his eyes follow her as she fetched the laptop. She tensed up and moved stiffly, retreating into an armor of formality and aloofness. Urahara looked like he was going to ask her something, but thought better of it. Instead, he murmured his thanks and suggested she rest. Homura ignored him and sat across from Hitsugaya, hands neatly folded among the walnut shells on the tabletop. She would have dismissed him from her presence if she could.

Urahara must have realized it. His lips quirked up briefly in dark amusement at her before he retreated to his lab, leaving her with Hitsugaya once more.

The shinigami and the magical girl sat without speaking for a long time, the scratching of Hitsugaya's pen the only sound in the room as Homura sat still and expressionless as a statue. Brilliant sunset dimmed into twilight, but the whole building remained hushed.

“How do you do it?” Hitsugaya suddenly asked Homura.

Homura blinked and took a moment to regain her bearings, having been quite lost in thought. “Do what?”

“She's my best friend,” Hitsugaya said dully. He obviously meant Karin. “She died in front of me two times in two days and I just watched both times. I fought her twisted soul. We brought her back, but we still lost her.” He hesitantly turned his eyes toward Homura and searched her face. “How do you stand it?”

Homura tipped her head in question. Neither of them was sure whether or not she was being deliberately obtuse.

Hitsugaya pursed his lips. “Seeing your friends die over and over. The same ones over and over. You think you've saved them then they die again. And you keep going on. Just twice is.... How do you bear it?”

Homura looked away from his haunted face. There were many answers she could give. That she distracted herself planning how to tweak the next timeline; that she lost herself in weapons heists and cheap takeout and physics and ballistics; that she made herself sleep at night by forcefully imagining one of her rare memories of a Good Day over and over until her consciousness faded. Instead, she quietly said, “I don't know.”

Homura pulled herself upright around midnight, blearily realizing she had fallen asleep on the table. Across from her, Hitsugaya tiredly ran his fingers around the edges of the letter he had written, though he didn't appear to be reading it. The others were gradually assembling with papers and notebooks; some carried small items in their hands. No one spoke. Everyone just sat or stood silently and listened to the rushing of wind in the eaves until Urahara arrived with several packages.

The scientist looked around the room and nodded. “Let's get to work.”

It took a long time to seal everyone's letters and objects one at a time as most of them needed to be taught how to do it with their own power. Homura watched with interest. She wondered what significance some of the objects held but thought it would be rude to ask as even Urahara spoke in a subdued, quiet murmur in the atmosphere of melancholy. The expressions on their faces as they relinquished cherished objects was enough to convince her that they had selected important things that would catch their past selves' attention. After several people took their turns, the process gained the solemn feel of a ritual.

It was nearly two in the morning when Urahara finally sat back and looked at the stack of neat packages on the table. He was the only one to fill multiple packages, mostly with research. Everyone watched him with tired eyes. Urahara turned to Homura. “You can store them now.”

Homura nodded once and materialized her shield on her arm. One by one, she carefully picked up packages and slipped them into the shield's mysterious interior as Urahara watched with keenly interested eyes. When she was done, she looked up at the scientist and waited for him to explain the next step of his plan, if he had one.

The folded fan appeared in Urahara's hand again. He lightly tapped it in one palm. “Now. Walpurgisnacht.”

Homura tensed. “Yes?”

“I read your little treatise. Well done, by the way. Anyway, I'm curious about how you phrased something.” Homura tilted her head inquisitively. “You wrote 'Walpurgisnacht is said to be a massive Witch associated with severe weather phenomena and natural disasters.' Can you elaborate on that for us?”

“Of course.” Homura relaxed, finding the question much easier to deal with than expected. She smoothed her skirt and organized her thoughts. “While the Incubator gave that vague description in an early timeline, I have found it to be invariably true. The Japan Meteorological Agency always reports a supercell bearing down on Mitakihara from the sea and orders evacuations to shelters around seven or seven thirty. Walpurgisnacht doesn't have a true barrier, but the supercell around her kind of acts like one. As the storm approaches, a parade of Familiars appears. It looks like a carnival. Then Walpurgisnacht descends and starts destroying things.”

Urahara looked at the ceiling and scratched at the stubble on his chin. “When I submit the data to Twelfth, I'll suggest they monitor a fifty kilometer radius for coinciding spiritual and meteorological irregularities. Maybe they'll be able to intercept the Witch before it makes landfall.” He looked down as Homura opened her mouth to say something. “I know it will be undone when you go back, but it will be good to know if the Thirteen Divisions can pull that off. I'll stay in contact with them.” Homura blinked, shut her mouth, and nodded. Urahara tapped his fan against the edge of the table thoughtfully. “I checked the weather before I came up. A lot of Japan is seeing storms of one kind or another developing. I'll write a script or something so I'll only get notifications for whatever happens near Mitakihara.”

After a long silence, Ichigo impatiently asked, “What do we do now?”

Urahara sighed. “Try to get some rest, I suppose.”

Jinta scoffed. “Like that's gonna happen.”

Renji woke to the shrill of his Soul Phone around four in the goddamn morning. He rolled over on one of the futons the magical girls had set out in their living room for his team and groggily took the call.

“Abarai. What.”

By four-thirty, Renji was completely awake and on edge.

He texted the two sentries he had set on third shift atop the roof and woke the rest of his team. Umika came downstairs in sleepy confusion as the shinigami gathered to be briefed. She looked to their leader and noticed the grim set of his face. “Is something wrong?”

Renji swiped a hand through his hair and sighed. “I think you had better get your friends down here. We got some weird intel about a Witch and I wanna see if any of you know something.”

Umika frowned but nodded and retreated up the stairs.

Everyone was finally alert and functional around five, drinking hot cocoa Kazumi had insistently shoved at them. Renji relayed what Twelfth had told him and turned to the magical girls, who all looked disturbed, and asked what they knew.

Umika frowned at the floor and slowly said, “I know I've heard the name before....”

“Kyubey said it,” Kazumi blurted.

“Eh?”

Kazumi's eyes were wide and earnest. “I heard him. He said it. When he named Dawn of Hyades. He said something like 'Is that the legendary Walpurgisnacht?' and then said no.”

“And whaaat is Dawn of Hyades?” Renji asked.

The magical girls all shifted uncomfortably. Kaoru took a deep breath. “It's a long story, but the short version is there was someone who managed to fuse a bunch of Witches into one big one.”

“We beat it by combining our magic,” Umika added.

“Well, that's encouraging,” Renji muttered.

“You need to go protect people from this Walpurgi-Witch, right? Right?” Kazumi asked.

Renji raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, we're gonna rendezvous with the other teams and set up a defense.”

Kazumi made a determined face and clenched her fists enthusiastically. “We'll help!”

Surprised, Renji said, “What? No. You shouldn't have to fight anymore. You're kids.”

Kazumi pouted but Umika scowled. “Kids to you, but we've fought a huge Witch before. And my power could be useful.”

Renji skeptically drawled, “What's this great power?”

Kaoru smirked as Umika inclined her chin and said, “My magic book reads my opponents and tells me about them— what they're focused on doing, motives— sometimes their weaknesses.”

Renji stared for a minute, then sighed. That was just too damn useful to pass up. “Fine. Whatever. We need to get ready. The rendezvous is in an hour.”

Kazumi cheered, then stood and declared, “Let's make breakfast!”

“Uh, do we really have time...?” the team's scientist asked.

The cheerful girl laughed and threw her arms wide. “Of course! We'll work together to make it go faster and the food will give us plenty of energy for beating the big Witch! Cooking together makes us friends!”

Umika and Kaoru looked thoroughly amused at their friend's antics and the bewildered expressions on the faces of the shinigami.

Sunday morning in Karakura dawned on a gloomy drizzle that steadily turned into a windy, bitter downpour. Homura sat on the back porch holding a cup of hot tea as she stared at the rain, stuck in a melancholy nostalgia. As badly as it had ended and as much hope as the future held, she would be sad to leave the people in this timeline. They would be the same people in the next timeline, yes, but they wouldn't know her, wouldn't have shared time with her. That erasure of bonds was why she had learned to not branch out and make more friends in the various timelines— it hurt to leave them behind and be the only one to know what they could have been.

Lost in thought, she startled when Isshin shuffled up and sat beside her. He offered her a pained smile, face wan with dark circles under his eyes. She wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't slept at all.

Isshin silently contemplated his own cup of tea for awhile. “It's almost seven,” he said quietly. Homura hummed acknowledgment but otherwise didn't respond. “I wanted to talk to you before you... go.”

Homura turned and eyed him cautiously. “What about?”

“I'm sorry.”

Surprised, Homura asked, “What for? I'm the one who—”

“No,” Isshin cut her off firmly. “I understand your actions. I don't blame you. I want to apologize for expecting you to take on a heavier burden when you go back. You've had so many problems with just your own circle of friends. You've been fighting a battle that should never have fallen to you in the first place. It's selfish of me to want you to intervene for my girls on top of that.” He gave a little self-deprecating laugh. “And yet, I still want you to do it.” He shook his head. “I'm sorry for that. If I could go back with you, for you... I'd do it in a heartbeat. You don't deserve any of this. And it must be terribly lonely.”

Homura was stunned. Isshin searched her face and smiled sadly. He reached over and lay a hand on her shoulder. “For what it's worth, this 'me' thinks of you as an honorary Kurosaki. Hopefully, other 'me's will, too.” His lips quirked and he squeezed her shoulder. “You're my third honorary daughter, you know. Rukia, Orihime— now you. My children seem to collect you for me under the strangest of circumstances. I can't complain.”

Homura tried to respond but was at a loss for words. Her vision blurred and she couldn't even swallow properly.

Isshin glanced over his shoulder at the sounds of the rest of the shop waking up and moving around. He turned back to Homura and lifted his hand from her shoulder to the side of her head. “Look at me. Listen to me, Homura. I might not get a chance to say this later.” She looked up at him. His eyes were fierce. “You are brave. You are strong. You are good. Never forget any of that. Live that. Keep on spitting in the face of fear and despair. You'll get through this. You will. I believe in you. We all believe in you. Got it?”

Homura took a deep breath and nodded, face determined. Isshin grinned sadly, ruffled her hair, and drew her into a one-armed hug as they both resumed watching the rain in silence.

The various teams of shinigami stationed themselves at strategic points throughout Mitakihara proper, each just barely in view of the other. Three battle-ready magical girls stood beside Renji and searched the skies. It was a miserably wet and windy day. They all stood tense, waiting.

Waiting.

A single pair of red eyes observed the shinigami from within the camouflage of construction scaffolding on a high rise condominium.

No one in Urahara Shop really knew what to do that morning. Everyone was as listless as Homura herself. Mr. Tsukabishi and Ururu made breakfast on autopilot. They all nibbled disinterestedly at their food, listening to the steadily worsening storm outside as they sat at the table tensely waiting for Urahara's tablet to beep a notification about an evacuation order for Mitakihara. When nothing had happened by seven thirty, eyes started darting toward Homura. A sense of heaviness and dread pressed down on them.

At ten minutes to eight, Urahara frowned and picked up the tablet. He tapped around its screen and frowned harder. “There are no severe weather warnings for Mitakihara. Stormy, yes, but nothing serious on radar.”

Homura's face twisted in confusion. “That's impossible.”

“Does Walpurgisnacht come in every timeline? In a storm every timeline?” asked Yoruichi.

“Yes. Always,” Homura said.

“What's different?” Urahara asked tensely.

Homura looked back to the scientist in surprise. “What?”

“What's different about this timeline? How does this timeline deviate from any you've experienced before?”

Homura thought for a moment and answered, “Karakura. I never went to Karakura before. I never even left Mitakihara before.” She looked down and thought. “But... Madoka has never died before today, either.”

Mr. Tsukabishi rubbed his chin. “And Madoka was very powerful, correct?”

Homura nodded with pursed lips.

Yoruichi hummed unhappily and glanced at Urahara and back. “How powerful?”

Biting her lip, Homura answered with deliberate vagueness. “It is hard to say for sure. It has been awhile since I really felt her fight.”

Urahara's eyes narrowed. “You mentioned that she and you together were enough to defeat Walpurgisnacht in some timelines and that she beat it herself in at least one,” he pressed.

Homura shifted and glanced away. After a long pause, she quietly said, “There have been timelines when she contracted during the battle, killed Walpurgisnacht with one shot from her bow, and immediately turned into an even more powerful Witch.”

Everyone stared.

“Just how fucking powerful is she?!” demanded Jinta.

Homura shrugged and reluctantly answered, “Several times more powerful than me, when she gets in the right mindset.”

Everyone kept staring. Homura wondered what that meant to them. Whether any of them were foolish enough to think they had seen her go all-out.

Yoruichi leaned back and squinted hard at Homura. “Madoka can one-shot Big, Bad, and Ugly as soon as she accesses her powers for the first time. Zero training. Zero experience.”

“Yes.”

“So she's the second coming of Ichigo,” Yoruichi concluded.

“God help us all,” muttered Ishida.

Before the entire conversation could derail, Mr. Tsukabishi cleared his throat and asked, “Is it possible this Walpurgisnacht is only attracted to Mitakihara when Madoka is there? Like a Hollow looking for a strong soul to eat?”

Urahara and Homura blinked and tilted their heads in similar expressions of surprised thought.

“Now, there's an interesting hypothesis,” Urahara murmured.

“I do not know,” Homura admitted after some thought. “It is a conglomeration of Witches and it behaves differently than other Witches.”

“You mean the labyr—”

Isshin cut himself off as everyone in the building shuddered at the sudden weight of a terrifyingly strong magic.

“The hell is that?!” Ichigo shouted as Homura went stark white and scrambled for the back door. Heedless of the confusion behind her, she ran out into the storm in her stocking feet and searched the skies. Immediately drenched, she slogged her hair out of her face and ran around to the front of Urahara Shop. She slid to a stop in the mud at the gate.

Fluffy pink poodles the size of camels wore golden saddles and bore catlike riders while hauling circus wagons in a parade. Pink and green elephants trumpeted as they marched down the street pulling something along in the air by many dozens of carnival pennants. Stuffed animals cavorted in the low mist between their feet.

In the distance, an enormous shadow in the sky.

Walpurgisnacht had come to Karakura.

Chapter Text

EINUNDDREIßIG

TIMELINE X+N

Homura stood transfixed in horror as Walpurgisnacht loomed in the distance. How?! Why was it here?!

More importantly, why the hell did it feel more powerful than in every other timeline she had experienced?!

She only became aware of the others catching up to her when Jinta yelled, “The fuck is all this?!”

“Walpurgisnacht,” Homura whispered.

The others followed her gaze to the shadow in the sky. Its massive gears gradually became more distinct through the cloud cover.

“I thought it's supposed to hit Mitakihara?!” cried Orihime.

Homura swallowed. “It is.”

“Has it ever appeared elsewhere?” Urahara asked tensely.

Shaking her head slowly, Homura answered, “Never. Never.”

“Does the thing follow you instead of the other girl?” Jinta asked angrily.

Homura kept shaking her head. “I don't know. I don't know. This is wrong. It shouldn't be here. It shouldn't feel this powerful. It's all wrong.”

Many of the others eyed her sharply. “What do you mean it shouldn't feel this powerful?” asked Yoruichi.

“Just that,” said Homura. “It feels so much... heavier. Darker. Like... like there's so much more of it than I've ever fought.”

“Fabulous,” droned Yoruichi.

“Our past selves will have to figure that one out,” Urahara said firmly. “We have an hour to delay it until Miss Akemi can go back in time.” He used his cane to abruptly shove Ichigo and Isshin out of their bodies and turned to the magical girl as they recovered without complaint. “Advice about how to fight it would be appreciated, Miss Akemi.”

Homura gathered her wits and stood upright. Her face went hard as she spoke. “The doll at the bottom can inflict damage, but the Witch's core is the biggest gear. It can blow fire, create wind, and levitate buildings to use as bludgeons. If it is threatened, it releases Familiars that look like silhouettes of magical girls. They can fly and attack in a lot of different ways.” She bit her lip. “But... be careful. It's behaving differently. I don't know if anything else will be different.”

The others looked from her to Walpurgisnacht, who was now close enough to see in more detail. It looked like a floating set of gears above and below one massive, spinning cog. A pole extended downwards from its center. Attached to the pole was a huge, upside-down doll-like figure that looked like a porcelain mannequin in a square-necked purple Tudor dress with a tight white corset and billowing purple skirts that parted around the cog and flared out to the Witch's sides. The mannequin's head was sheared off just above where eyebrows should have been, leaving a flat top. A divided hennin was perched on the head behind its ears; an expansive veil wafted about it in the gale. Its only facial feature was a mouth outlined in lurid red lipstick. An intricate mandala of many shifting colors glowed faintly behind it.

Yoruichi smirked and cracked her knuckles. “Well, let's get to work!”

Homura transformed and pulled a grenade launcher from her shield. Mr. Tsukabishi rolled his shoulders and looked like he was making plans as he squinted at the Witch. Jinta and Ururu ran back to the shop, probably to fetch their weapons. The others spoke tersely to one another and began to leap skyward.

Urahara stepped over to Orihime and Homura forward and grabbed their shoulders. “You two stay back.”

Orihime only frowned but Homura was outraged. “Don't coddle me! I know how to fight!”

“I am well aware of that, Miss Akemi, and I do not doubt your prowess” Urahara said evenly. “But the entire goal of this battle is for us to delay Walpurgisnacht until your turnback point. If you were to accidentally get caught in the crossfire of so many combatants at once... well. All will be lost, as they say.”

Homura's mouth clicked shut. She hated it, but could acknowledge logic.

Urahara turned to Orihime. “Go to the other side of town and find a good vantage point. I want Miss Akemi to observe the fight so she can report our performance to our other selves for improvement. Shield her if an attack gets past us. Her survival is our top priority. Don't stop to heal anyone even if they're dying— they'll be fine in the next timeline. Focus only on protecting Miss Akemi.” Orihime nodded her understanding.

Urahara stepped past them, glanced back over his shoulder, and doffed his striped hat. “Meeting you has been very interesting, Miss Akemi,” he said with a wry grin. “I suppose I'll see you in the next life, as it were.” He jumped up to the rooftops before Homura could respond.

Homura pursed her lips and kicked a rock. The only time she ever sat out the fight against Walpurgisnacht was in the first timeline, before she had contracted. Not fighting it was surprisingly infuriating.

Orihime patted Homura's shoulder as she allowed her fairies to drift around them. “He means well.”

Homura grit her teeth and huffed. “I know.” It didn't stop her from resenting being benched. Face dour, she shoved the grenade launcher back into her shield.

Orihime smiled sympathetically. Like she knew the feeling all too well. “Let's go.”

Twelfth Division's Spirit Wave Measurement Lab was full of tired staff, all subdued but determined in the wake of their department head's death in the field. They worked industriously to sift data from the five recon parties as it came in while a select few struggled to salvage the damaged sensor Ukitake's team had recovered. Akon stood in for Rin, supervising the department's efforts straight through the night. He was nursing his fifth thermos of enhanced coffee when several of the department's alarms blared dire warnings all at the same time.

Akon startled and dropped his coffee but immediately caught it. Scientists scurried to their stations with a chaotic urgency akin to an anthill poked by a stick. When they started looking at screens and gasping, Akon shouted, “Hiyosu, status!”

Hiyosu looked at his superior over his shoulder, wide face pale and eyes bulging more than usual. “Massive Hollow-like reiatsu in Karakura. Wave forms appear to be extremely amplified Witch frequency.”

“Classification?” barked Akon.

Hiyosu glanced at his screen again and looked back to Akon in disbelief. “Well beyond Vasto Lorde Arrancar class.”

Akon's brows shot up to his hairline. He opened his mouth to speak, but looked around in confusion as the alarms stopped. Then an entirely different alarm started shrieking.

Before Akon could ask anything, Hiyosu numbly said, “On-site sensors are offline. Possibly fried. Wide-scale sensor data interpretation interface for Japan and Korean peninsula has frozen. Either it's exceeded our processing power or the script has a bug that cripples the program past a certain threshold we couldn't reach in beta. Possibly both.”

“This didn't happen during the Battle of Karakura back in the war,” Akon thought aloud. That had been the most intense gathering and slinging around of reiatsu in the World of the Living since the Twelfth Division's computers had been invented.

“But we anticipated that event and streamlined—” Hiyosu perked up and turned toward the room at large and specific stations to shout, “Shut down global sensor arrays! Shut down Soul Society arrays! Shut down Hueco Mundo arrays! Shut down Precipice World arrays! Keep Mitakihara mission data up! Leave only those arrays that include Karakura and Mitakihara! Shut down Soul Phone communications and monitoring outside Japan! I want every non-essential application killed now!”

Their lieutenant ghosted into the room and joined Akon in standing behind Hiyosu and watching him forcibly disconnect the Japan/Korea data stream, dig into the analytic program, and begin to reinsert exclusion scripts developed during the Winter War so he could try to restart the application and restore the link to incoming data without another crash.

Nemu evaluated everything with unassailable calm then left to notify her captain and issue a standby alert for captain-class fighters. Karakura's regular defenders would likely need backup.

The fighters arrayed themselves in a battlefront directly in Walpurgisnacht's path. They had barely settled on positions when a short girl with her blond hair in rough pigtails wearing a red tracksuit with a sword slung across her back appeared next to Kisuke in a burst of shunpo.

“Why, hello, Hiyori,” Kisuke said mildly to his former lieutenant.

“Don't give me that, Baldy,” she snarled. “What the hell is going on?!”

“We seem to be having a bit of a crisis.”

“No shit.” She aimed a jump kick at him. He dodged, as usual. “What did you do this time?!”

Kisuke turned to look at her with a fake pout, noting the other Visored who had chosen to stay in the World of the Living after the war arrayed behind her. Of course they would notice something like this. “Why do you assume this is my fault?”

“You're the resident mad scientist. It's either you or Ichigo, the resident trouble magnet. You have a longer history of bullshit and we felt some kind of Hollow clusterfuck at your place on Friday.”

Kisuke gave a little laugh. “Believe it or not, it's neither of us this time.”

“Bullshit.”

“There's no time to explain.” He pitched his voice loud enough for Lisa, Love, and Hachi to hear. “The monster can blow fire, make wind, and levitate buildings to use as weapons. The biggest cog is the heart of the monster. It can break off minions to act independently. We need to kill it or keep it occupied for an hour or so.”

“What happens in an hour?” asked Lisa.

Kisuke scratched his cheek. “Ah, let's say our secret weapon will be ready then.”

“'Let's say',” Lisa droned skeptically.

No trust. Honestly.

“No time to explain!” Kisuke shouted as he dodged a carnival pennant that shot past his head.

Lisa sighed deeply and drew her blade.

“Ranged attacks on the gears!” Kisuke shouted as he raised his hands and started chain-casting kidō.

The sky lit up as a volley of attacks converged on Walpurgisnacht. They impacted in a series of explosions that continued as the defenders repeated their attacks until their fallout completely obscured the Witch. The debris and incoming attacks were abruptly scattered by a gout of multicolored fire as the doll portion opened its mouth and started laughing in an eerily distorted woman's voice. It blew a jet of flame at the line of defense, which was deflected by overlapping Dankū shields courtesy of Tessai, Hachi, and Kisuke. While they were distracted, Walpurgisnacht emanated a whirlwind and snapped off the top halves of downtown Karakura's high-rises with frightening ease. It levitated them and their flaming debris around it as a defense and lobbed one massive construct of steel, concrete, and glass at the defenders horizontally. The defenders were forced to scatter with various forms of flash step as the improvised weapon fell and crushed three entire city blocks.

How has that child survived this opponent so many times? Benihime marveled in Kisuke's head as he stared at the disaster area. How has she fought this alone at all?

She did say it's more powerful this time, Kisuke thought.

This is precisely what she described, Benihime countered. Casting aside towers like stalks of flax. She has faced this degree of destruction before.

And here I thought I had stopped underestimating her, Kisuke admitted ruefully. And it's too late to add that to the time capsule.

Tessai flared his reiatsu several times in quick succession to draw the defenders' attention to him. He made arm signals which Kisuke, his longtime friend, and Hachi, his former lieutenant from the kidō Corps, recognized. They all cast the Ninety-First Way of Destruction: Senjū Kōten Taihō from three different directions. Walpurgisnacht was enveloped in a brilliant pink explosion.

The squinting defenders were taken by surprise as broad beams of purple reiatsu lanced out from the pink light. Several of them were hit by beams and sent flying. The beams fragmented and formed reishi constructs shaped like faceless magical girls. The living silhouettes were an ever-shifting mass of a purple and pink nebula pattern studded with stars. Gleeful giggles emanated from them from the moment they took shape and began to spin and dance.

Kisuke remembered Akemi's words: “If it is threatened, it releases Familiars that look like silhouettes of magical girls.”

Somehow, that fourteen-year-old magical girl had managed to make this being perceive her to be as threatening as fourteen experienced, high-powered combatants used to coordinating attacks.

I really, really underestimated that girl, Kisuke thought.

The Familiars swarmed around each combatant. Some bore shadowy weapons; others held magic wands and shot beams of the same purple energy they were made of. Mêlée battle quickly got messy, looking more like an air war dogfight than close combat. The Familiars were fiendishly fast, flickering from place to place with a carefree, mocking grace that soon began to grate on the defenders. The giggling shadows coordinated their attacks, those with weapons rushing in to force defenders to block so those with magic wands could take potshots at them while they were busy. The defender would then be forced to dodge, often taking minor damage while unable to inflict much in return.

Yoruichi, “Goddess of Flash,” had no such trouble, though. She kept pace with the Familiars and matched them move for move as she fought using only her body as a weapon. Shadow after giggling shadow fell by her hand, swift punches and kicks popping them like soap bubbles and leaving a trail of purple glitter behind her. Seeing Yoruichi's success, Ururu chose to hold her shoulder-cannon in reserve and fight with powerful blows from her limbs with the occasional use of the cannon as a bludgeon. Likewise, Sado was managing to punch through the Familiars that ventured close to him to try the same pincer tactic with his Brazo Izquierdo del Diablo while blocking attacks from the wand-wielding Familiars with the shield form of his Brazo Derecho del Gigante. He was mostly able to dodge the various blades and polearms as he sought openings to punch the Familiars on attack, but steadily collected wounds from those few attacks that got through.

Tōshirō scowled, released his zanpakutō into its shikai state, and started slinging flocks of icicles in wide arcs around him as he darted through the sky. Effectively stabbed about a dozen times each, the Familiars caught in his attacks burst apart into purple glitter. Ichigo and Isshin released their own blades and lobbed their respective Getsuga Tenshō attacks at the Familiars that swarmed after them. Kisuke, Tessai, and Hachi developed a routine of casting Hyapporankan into the giggling mobs to immobilize them then follow up with devastating destructive kidō.

Uryū was constantly on the move, unable to take the time to prepare more than simple single-arrow attacks among the chaos— archers really had no business being in the thick of things. He hit nearly all his targets once he grew accustomed to their movements and never failed to negate the magic wand beam attacks when directed at him, but he had little effect on the overall battle apart from some... unique results when he did land a direct hit. No one else had really noticed in the heat of battle, but Uryū's mind was racing with ideas.

Just as the horde seemed to thin out a bit, Walpurgisnacht changed its behavior. It hovered in place, rotated on its axis in the center of its ring of floating wreckage and fire, and switched out its creepy laughter for singing scales like a ghostly soprano. A thrum of power passed through the sparkling haze of purple glitter, which re-condensed back into the giggling magical girl silhouettes they had been before their defeat.

Uryū wasn't sure who it was who snarled “son of a bitch!” at high volume, but he agreed with the sentiment as Walpurgisnacht's unhinged laughter returned.

However, the regrouping of the Familiars allowed him the moment to do something he had been trying to set up for what felt like forever. Uryū drew back his bowstring, paused for a moment to gather extra reishi, and loosed a small volley of Licht Regen arrows as a test, tightly controlled so they wouldn't hit his allies. The blue-white projectiles impacted the formation of the Familiars. Those that suffered direct hits to the torso were consumed in white embers like tissue paper in a flame. Nothing was left behind— not even the purple, glitter-like reishi.

That was surprising enough for Karakura's defenders, though it made sense considering Quincy powers. Then Hiyori made her enraged return to the battlefield.

Having been flung all the way out of town by the initial salvo and stunned against a tall building, Hiyori returned beyond furious and charged into the fray with her blade already released into its serrated cleaver form as the reconstituted Familiars attacked. She hacked Familiars in half without bothering to keep her distance or even defend herself, uncaring of the injuries she sustained in her blind charge. Each of the bisected shadows broke into purple sparkles, but the little clouds immediately drew to a central point where the shadow-girls's hearts would have been, changed colors, and coalesced into egg-shaped gemstones that immediately hatched and set Hell Butterflies free to drift heavenward. Kisuke saw it amid the renewed chaos and actually missed a step in his shock, losing his hat, an ear, and an inch of his shoulder to a giggling shadow. Hiyori, unaware of the significance of the result and further provoked by incessant giggling, kept hacking until Walpurgisnacht's mannequin head turned and blew a gout of fire at her. She had sense enough to retreat from that, at least.

Uryū saw a chance. He drew another Heilig Pfeil and shouted, “Kurosaki!” as he aimed at Walpurgisnacht's head through the mob.

Ichigo appeared at his side immediately. Quick on the uptake, his eyes darted between the bow, the Familiars, and the doll and said, “I take it I'm going in when you shoot?” He wiped out the first wave of giggling shadows that rushed their way with a Getsuga Tenshō.

“Go bankai and follow right behind my arrows,” Uryū barked. “See if you can take the head off that thing and stop the fire and replacements!” He amassed more energy into his Heilig Pfeil.

Ichigo nodded grimly and raised his sword arm. He braced it with his free hand and incanted, “Bankai. Tensa Zangetsu.” Blue reiatsu flared around him and bled into a blackness that glowed red. When the light cleared, Ichigo's loose kosode had become a snug cloak that flared out behind him and his wide black blade had narrowed. He crouched in a starting position. “Ready.”

Uryū immediately loosed a wider barrage of arrows. Ichigo used the enhanced speed of his bankai to chase in their wake as they eliminated the Familiars between him and the Witch. Walpurgisnacht's head turned and blasted multicolored flames at Ichigo, but he just flared his reiatsu and charged straight through the blaze. He emerged on the other side singed but intact, already charging his blade with a Getsuga Tenshō. Ichigo roared as he wound up and lopped off the mannequin's head with a single slash.

The laughing stopped.

Homura followed in Orihime's footsteps as she led them west, first running then taking to the rooftops. Karakura was eerily still even for a stormy Sunday morning. Homura was disturbed to find most humans they encountered unconscious. It was as though everyone had simply dropped in place, some causing minor traffic accidents, more littering the sidewalks with bodies and umbrellas, others sprawled across cafe tables. They ran into a conscious person every couple blocks, but they were often lone children. Teenagers seemed very drowsy and weighed down and little children sat by their parents and cried in confusion. Orihime looked distraught about running right past them, but pass them she did.

“What happened to them all?” Homura called over to Orihime.

Orihime looked surprised that Homura didn't know. “That Witch's reiatsu is too dense for most souls to stand. Even stronger souls like those in Karakura. The ones who are awake are strong enough to resist it.”

“Ah.”

“Orihime! Is that you?!”

Both running girls glanced down at the street. A dark-haired girl in a karate gi was leaning against the doorway of a dojo looking ill.

“Ah! Sorry, Tatsuki, I'm busyyy!” Orihime shouted. She kept running, so Homura did as well.

“Tatsuki” followed along in the street until she was more surefooted, then joined them on the rooftops. She kept up with them but it obviously took great effort for her to use her magic to propel her through jumps. Homura gauged that she had powers, just not on the high end of the scale like most of the people she had met in Karakura.

The young woman didn't bother saying anything until Orihime had them skid to a stop on a five-story office building in Naruki City. After taking a minute to breathe, Tatsuki turned to look east for the first time. She stared in disbelief. “Dammit, Hime, who did Ichigo piss off this time?!”

“It's not his fault!”

“That's what you always say! He's always in it up to his eyeballs!”

“No, Tatsuki, really— it's not his fault!”

“Sure.”

Homura gasped. The older girls turned to her. She was watching the distant battle with military-grade binoculars.

Tatsuki screeched, “Where'd you get those?!”

Orihime quickly added, “Do you have more?”

Homura shifted and held her binoculars in her left hand and used her right to reach into her shield and pull out a second pair and blindly hold them out in Orihime's general direction.

Tatsuki stood by and sourly looked between the battle and the two spectators as Orihime tensely explained the abilities of shinigami and allies. Then there was a bright pink flash like a bomb going off and the distinct sound of many windows shattering as the sound caught up with the light. Tatsuki sighed. “Is there even going to be enough of this town left for the shinigami to cover up?”

Homura noted that the young woman seemed familiar with shinigami activities despite her low power. Interesting. She had more important things to think about, though.

Homura and Orihime ignored Tatsuki and continued to mutter questions and answers at one another as they watched the battle. After awhile, a shockwave of Walpurgisnacht's heavy reiatsu hit them. Homura braced herself and kept watching.

“You didn't say it could revive the little ones,” Orihime said worriedly.

Gaping, Homura said, “It's... it's never done that before.”

“Oh,” Orihime squeaked.

A bit later, both cried out in surprise.

“What?!” Homura gasped. “What?! Are those—?! Are those—?!”

Orihime fiddled with the focus on her binoculars. “Butterflies?!” she finished in confused shock. “Like... like when....” She lowered her binoculars and looked at Homura with wide eyes. “Like when shinigami purify Hollows. With their zanpakutō. Their souls.... Oh my God.” Tremulous hope brightened her features. “Homura—!”

Homura's mouth opened and closed. She was stunned speechless.

There was a way to snatch the souls of magical girls back before the Incubator could consume them.

Her mind couldn't focus on one idea for more than a second, racing and trying to apply the new knowledge to various scenarios. Orihime resumed her pose with the binoculars, explaining things again with more cheer. Tatsuki seemed to have no idea what was going on, but trust that if Orihime had shifted gears, something good must have happened.

“Oh! Ichigo and Uryū are going to work together!” Orihime gushed happily.

A moment later, both spectators made sounds of happy surprise. For one breathless second they saw the potential for an actual defeat of Walpurgisnacht— if a shinigami could get close enough to behead such a crucial portion of the Witch's offense, surely they could handle the rest!

Then they cried out in horror as everything went to hell.

Walpurgisnacht's severed head fell from its shoulders and was consumed by the black flames of Ichigo's Getsuga Tenshō. Ichigo regained his footing and was about to lunge for the mannequin's supporting pole when its neck exploded in multicolored flames and wide beams of starry purple reiatsu. The force of the blast threw Ichigo down into and through the roof of his old high school. Walpurgisnacht's laughter was replaced by unholy shrieking as Ichigo jumped out of the rubble and wobbled to a fallback position to get his bearings. A multitude of carnival pennants shot out from the raw neck wound and stabbed into all of the Familiars. Rainbow flames and starry purple reiatsu raced along their strings and enveloped each Familiar in shifting light that burst away to reveal dozens upon dozens of Witch sigils. They were so dense that all of the defenders were caught in a different sigil.

“What the shit, Urahara?!” Hiyori shrieked.

There was no time to answer. Those who knew about Witches had a moment to dread what would follow before they all disappeared from the battlefield.

Chapter Text

ZWEIUNDDREIßIG

TIMELINE X+N

One second Jinta was in the air over Karakura; the next, he found himself floating upside-down in some kind of giant snow globe with carousels stacked on top of one another revolving around the outer edge, each pixelized horse bearing a TV screen with a test pattern and illegible pixel script. The water glowed with a soothing blue light that reminded him of the ambient light of a TV screen at night. Bubbles rose upwards as snow gently drifted down. At first he only heard dainty music, but then girlish laughter rang out above him. Looking up, he saw a flock of cut-out etching prints of artists' reference d olls each with a single angel wing a n d a halo. Some of the th i ngs had TVs where the y should have had heads. The y w e re all f l uttering around a big CRT computer monitor that had long, black, cartoonis h pigtails o n its sides. It se e med to use the l ong hair as wings or f l ippers. Jitter y images flic kered on its screen.

Alone with a Witch and its Familiars, Jinta summed up his situation with a low, “Shiiiiiiiiiiiit.”

He wondered why the hell he could breathe underwater. Or was he really underwater? It both did and did not feel like when he went in a swimming pool— he was buoyant, but there was no water resistance when he moved. Whatever. Things needed smashing and he was good at smashing things.

As he wound up to swing at the first of the winged Familiars that dove at him, the screens of all the carousel horses flickered and changed from a test pattern to looping video of many of his memories of Yuzu and Karin. There were occasional images of happy times, but they only served to make all the rest of the screens featuring his newest memories worse in contrast.

Yuzu laughing. Yuzu laying dead on the shop's table. Karin smirking. Karin screaming and screaming and screaming while clawing at her scalp. The pile of clubs and baseball items from Karin's labyrinth. Karin's Witch. Yuzu eagerly listening to him recount a baseball game. Yuzu's corpse strung up inside Karin's Witch. Yuzu's body falling, falling, endlessly falling. Karin laying dead in her father's arms. Yuzu laying dead on a futon like a sleeping princess. Karin looking at the room of people listening to Homura from her father's lap, face haggard and eyes hollow. Karin gleefully needling him over something or other. Karin lying dead among walnut shells. Yuzu smiling at him while holding groceries.

Yuzu dead. Yuzu dead. Yuzu dead.

It was traumatic, yes. It made him feel uncomfortably guilty and frustrated and inadequate. But Jinta reacted as he reacted to many threatening things that got past his armor of bravado and hurt those he loved: An enraged thirst to beat the hell out of anything available overtook him. And there were a lot of things available.

More of the doll-like Familiars the size of grown men jerkily crawled out from behind the carousel borders and bubbled out of the Witch's monitor. Jinta grit his teeth and jumped up to meet them, his first swing knocking limbs and heads off various minions. They kept attacking him and trying to grab him with greedy hands until he managed to completely break them apart. Another wave of dolls rushed him as he tried to angle himself for the Witch. As he was countering them, the big computer monitor drifted down past him while laughing at him with the tinniness of a recording being played from a phone.

Fucking laughed at him.

Jinta flared his reiatsu as high as it would go to bowl the jointed dolls over with his power and used shunpo to get to the side of the labyrinth. He bashed in the screen on one of the carousel horses without looking at it, keenly following the Witch with his eyes as two of its winged Familiars held it on opposite sides and pulled it back up toward the top of the snow globe in a spiral while it chimed with laughter. Jinta snarled, kicked off from the carousel at an upward angle, turned like a swimmer as he crossed the entire labyrinth. He landed hard against another carousel layer and rebounded upward at high velocity. The crunch of glass and plastic as his iron club smashed into the Witch and the Witch rocketed into the opposite wall was viscerally satisfying.

The Witch wobbled away from the carousel wall in dizzy circles and bled a color test pattern as the dolls that had been carrying it turned on Jinta. He dispatched them easily, doll parts flying in every direction. The Witch's monitor sizzled and arced then spewed more Familiars. After brutally dissembling them, Jinta saw one of their heads floating in a perfect position; he instinctively swung at it like it was an oversized baseball and sent it careening into the Witch's broken screen— and straight out its back in a shower of plastic, glass, and color test-patterned blood. Jinta leapt down and nailed the monitor with one last mighty swing. It crashed into a carousel horse and shattered completely.

Jinta stood and panted as the carousel collapsed around him, uncaring of the Grief Seed that floated where the Witch had been.

“What the flying fuck?” Hiyori wondered aloud as she suspiciously inspected her surroundings.

She definitely wasn't in the skies above Karakura anymore. The floor was purple and lavender checkerboard tile. The sky was a washed-out pink strung with garlands of paper snowflake cutouts and curly ribbons that didn't seem to be fastened to anything. Old-fashioned zoo cages with vertical bars were scattered around, each made of white wrought iron and supporting a pedestal above it. In the distance there was a broad circus ringmaster's dais made out of a similar cage. Atop it was the most bizarre creature Hiyori had ever seen— and that included the new high bar her standards of weirdness had reached during the battle so far. It was like some kid had mashed things together to make something vaguely doll-like. Its head was a giant brass whistle decorated in filigree, the mouthpiece positioned as a snout. Hiyori wasn't sure what the hell its rabbit-like ears were actually made of, but they reminded her of two zipper-pull tabs stuck on the sides of the whistle. The main body looked like a poofy lavender bodice and sleeves; one arm ended in a large hand and the other tapered off into a whip with a weighted flail at the end. The torso ended in ruffles at a structure that took the term “cage crinoline” literally, a series of curved vertical bars resembling a wide-skirted dress while forming an enclosure for something small shivering inside it. There were more ruffles at its base and the whole thing was perched on a pair of stubby legs that ended in catlike paws. All told, it didn't look particularly threatening. It was more ugly-cute than anything. Something Hiyori could see Mashiro buy and call art to make Rose and Kensei twitch.

“Where the hell am I.” Hiyori looked around listlessly. “So, what, am I supposed wreck this place? Is there even anything here? Can I just get the hell out? What the hell.” She scowled harder. “If this is Urahara's idea of a prank I'll ram my shoe down his throat. Ass.”

Seeing nothing else to do and thinking of the weird giant doll-thing... “outside”? … Hiyori sighed in aggravation and started marching for the strange creature that emanated the most Hollow-like reiatsu. “Can I leave if I chop you to bits?” she wondered aloud.

The creature startled as though frightened by her words and shrilled its whistle while cracking its whip. Purple cats appeared from every direction, walking out from behind things that should have been far too narrow to conceal them. They were cute but had no mouths.

Hiyori had zero patience left. No way was she going to wade through a sea of cats to do anything. The small Visored willed her Hollow mask into existence, charged a red Cero, and launched it at the weird construct. Its torso blew apart, whistle and whip and frills flying every which way.

The cats were very unhappy about this. They looked at Hiyori with slit eyes, opened previously unseen mouths, and yowled at her as one. Oh, hey, they did have mouths. Hiyori just hadn't expected them to be placed vertically in the centers of their foreheads running up to the tops of their heads and filled with shark teeth. Nope.

Hiyori lost track of time in the ensuing brawl, her world consumed by fur and claws and teeth as she hacked at the unending feline swarm. It was surprisingly difficult to fend off the tiny army. Every time she destroyed three, five more would shred into her clothes and skin. She could feel blood running down her back and legs from the abuse her back took— she couldn't swing her damn sword at her own back so the little bastards really laid into it. Flaring her reiatsu gave her a brief respite by blowing the cats away from her, but they pounced right back even angrier than before.

So here she had gone from some poorly-understood but epic battle to getting mauled by a herd of fluffy house cats. Mauled by cats. Hiyori could hear Shinji's mocking laughter in her head.

Hiyori roared and turned to the remains of the whistle-creature. From what she could see between the constant shifting of furry bodies attacking her, the whole thing had fallen apart and revealed the little creature she had seen huddled within the cage: A cartoonishly cute purple bunny. The structure around the bunny had summoned the cats. It would make sense for the bunny to be related, too, especially since the cats were herding her away from it.

That bunny was dead meat.

Hiyori kicked, slashed, and screamed her way through the cat army. When she got close, she flared her reiatsu to blow the cats back and darted up to the bunny, which quivered and cringed and looked up at her with tearfully terrified doe eyes. It was too frightened to move.

Hiyori sneered and cleaved it in two.

She didn't know why the hell it turned into a girl then turned into a goddamn purple Easter egg then turned into a Hell Butterfly, but at least it got her out of the ridiculous zoo.

Tōshirō frowned at the labyrinth around him, hazy gray shapes shifting in the light filtering through the frosted glass panels of the many overlapping, colorless rose window frames that surrounded him. The shinigami glanced at his sword arm and found that despite the apparent diffused light he was in such deeply black shadow that only the faint glow of his own reiatsu gave his form any definition. He looked up. And up, and up, and up. Sloping, softly glowing white paths decorated with artfully swirling white briar patches trailed upward, interspersed with grand white marble staircases that floated in the air unsupported. The rose window walls, if they could be called such, were constantly drifting and rotating in different directions, forms twisting like tree branches and adding to the uneasy atmosphere. Upon closer scrutiny, the upward path seemed to wind around a large, curved white structure. Far, far up, there was a horizontal extension that ended with a red glow, the only independent color he had seen yet in this monochrome world. Tōshirō stretched out his senses; the Hollow-like reiatsu felt strongest there, too. That was probably where he was supposed to go, then.

While Tōshirō urgently wanted to get back to the battle outside, he forced himself to remain cautious— his past experience had taught him brutal lessons about rushing into battle without forethought. So he began to carefully ascend the path. This labyrinth had the intrinsically big feel characteristic of cathedrals. A combination of the imagery, the sudden jarring change of scenery, and knowing he had essentially been dragged into some girl's nightmare made his skin crawl. Like he was intruding somewhere sacred. Like fighting his way out would be desecration. Somehow, fighting Witches was infinitely more disturbing than fighting Hollows he knew had also started out as plain souls. He knew from Karin's labyrinth how deeply personal they could be. Whether or not he understood the significance of what he saw, Tōshirō knew he was touring a soul laid bare. As a private person himself, the thought appalled him.

He could see vague movement along the path above, dark shapes shifting as though on patrol. It was a long path that would take a while to fight his way through. Frowning, Tōshirō thought to his zanpakutō spirit, I want to do this as quickly as possible. Bankai and fly up? It's wide open... I think. He couldn't look up for too long as there was a bright white light shining from the distant apex of the labyrinth.

Hyōrinmaru shifted in unease deep in Tōshirō's soul. It seems too simple.

Tōshirō hummed unhappy agreement. I want to try. We'll just have to be careful and fall back to the path if necessary.

The dragon rumbled and rose to the surface of Tōshirō's soul.

“Bankai. Daiguren Hyōrinmaru.”

Ice burst into existence from the shinigami's back. Wide dragon wings made of ice unfurled around Tōshirō. He looked like he had an ice sculpture of an Eastern dragon wrapped around him protectively, a long tail trailing down from the wings, ice flowing down his right arm and ending in a dragon's snout over his hand creating the illusion of the dragon holding the sword in its teeth. His feet and free hand were clad in icy armor shaped like dragon claws. Tōshirō glowed with the blue-white light of his reiatsu, his ice shining past the shadows he had been engulfed in.

Tōshirō gave a great flap of his wings and launched himself skyward. He flew around the central paths in a wide circle, spiraling up the labyrinth while wary for attack. The briar patches on the main path got larger and wilder as he ascended. When he judged he was halfway up, the white briars developed into actual trees. He soon encountered sprawling, jagged branches. With a swing of his sword, he shot a dragon construct made of ice at the branches above him. He managed to get through the first barrier, but as he prepared to destroy the next set of dense branches, they came alive and shot toward him with rapid, jerky growth. Tōshirō wrapped his wings around him and let the sharp branches hit and shatter themselves, then opened his wings and released a wide arc of ice before him to meet a third wave of branches. Once frozen solid, Tōshirō lashed out with Hyōrinmaru's tail and smashed them.

So he progressed, fighting for every inch of ascent, trying to only spend time fighting those branches directly in his path. It came as a complete surprise when branches he had passed reversed direction and shot at his back. The dragon armor protected his spine and vital organs, but his sides and legs were pierced through many times. Hyōrinmaru roared in fury in Tōshirō's head as they harshly snapped their wings up and down to break off the branches. More branches closed in from all sides; the shinigami became the epicenter of a wild winter storm in his efforts to fend off the encroaching projectiles. Out of the corner of his eye, Tōshirō saw something black— actually, multiple somethings— scrabbling up into the pure white branches like spiders. He instinctively lashed out at them with a blast of ice without really looking at them.

We need to retreat to the path. Hyōrinmaru sounded as frustrated as Tōshirō felt. We should not have to defend from below if we are on solid ground.

We hope, Tōshirō thought darkly.

We hope, Hyōrinmaru agreed.

Tōshirō managed to turn toward the central path. He jabbed his sword straight out. A wide, powerful bolt of ice lanced out from the blade in a straight line for the path. Tōshirō shattered the ice with a thought and dove through the impromptu tunnel with the fastest combination of shunpo and flight he could manage. He hit the ground hard and immediately expanded his ice wings to curl them around him in an armored dome. Tōshirō took the opportunity to breathe deeply and regroup.

Well, we ascended more than half way, Hyōrinmaru said sourly. That is something, I suppose. Tōshirō got the distinct impression that his dragon was offended by being forced out of the sky— by trees of all things.

Tōshirō panted and looked through his ice dome, watching and listening as the sharp briar branches endlessly peppered his wings and tried to chip them away. They weren't strong enough to overcome his ability to regenerate his wings by pulling the moisture from the broken pieces back into the main structure, though. The black things were crawling around the dome, too, but the ice distorted Tōshirō's view enough that he couldn't see what they were.

He looked down and assessed his injuries. The shorn ends of white branches protruded from the backs of his legs and left arm. Most worrisome was a wooden spike lodged in his side that managed to pierce all the way through to his front. The sharp tip protruded a good six inches out from the fleshy space just above his left hip.

Wonderful.

Take it out. I do not trust it, Hyōrinmaru said tensely. Take them all out.

Tōshirō scowled doubtfully at the biggest wound. Blood loss—

Kidō will not work fast enough. I will freeze it. We do not need to worry about internal aftereffects— Akemi is going to undo all of this soon.

Tōshirō blinked and drew up short in thought. That... could actually work in their favor. They could afford to take risks they usually couldn't. Freezing parts of his own body and continuing to fight was something he could do— had done— in dire circumstances, but thawing and recovery could be troublesome even for an ice spirit. If he didn't do it just right, he could be uselessly sidelined in the Fourth Division infirmary if this mess turned into a war. If he didn't have to account for that....

Do it, Tōshirō thought.

The shinigami grimaced as his dragon froze the flesh around the branch, then yanked the spike out. Hyōrinmaru prodded him to get the smaller ones. Tōshirō thought the sharp pain from several wounds was due to the ice his dragon had formed around the more bothersome branches, but was proven wrong when he yanked on what was essentially a wooden stake in the back of his right thigh and removed it with great difficulty. He actually screamed as it tore loose. Sensing Hyōrinmaru's alarm, Tōshirō looked at the spike instead of tossing it away.

Roots.

Hell no.

Matching pain lanced through his lower left leg. Something moved in his left arm.

“FREEZE THEM!” Tōshirō screamed aloud.

Hyōrinmaru was doing so before Tōshirō had even finished forming the words. After a few minutes of frantically plucking glorified splinters with roots out of his extremities, Tōshirō was furious. His left leg was stiff from the knee down due to the extent of the freezing his zanpakutō had been forced to do there. Same for his right thigh and upper left arm. Shifting his weight from one leg to the other just caused pain in different places, though favoring his right leg made his torso wound hurt less. But Tōshirō was a shinigami captain; he was no stranger to pain. This was nothing compared to what he endured during the Winter War. This pain just made him more driven.

After another moment of testing his weight and movement, Hyōrinmaru sheathed Tōshirō's body in more extensive ice armor beneath his uniform. Let us finish this, he growled.

Tōshirō got in a ready position and made his wings explode outward with a thought. The sheer number of ice shards mirrored the attacks of the branches and shredded them. He jumped into the best shunpo he could manage, cutting down anything in his path. Hyōrinmaru partially reformed their ice wings, but kept them smaller to enable his shinigami to move more freely on the ground and pulled moisture behind them in a shimmering trail in case they needed the wings to shield.

Tōshirō quickly found that the spider-like black shapes he had seen earlier were disembodied hands taller than he was mincing around in pairs on their fingertips. He slashed through them as he rushed past, jumped out from between pairs that tried to clap closed on him, and dodged around energy attacks they shot at him by pointing and mimicking a gun. Sometimes new ones would fall from above and try to swat him like a fly, but an arc of ice kept them from landing a hit. Fighting and glorious adrenaline took his mind off the pain as he relentlessly pressed upward along uneven white ground and intricate white tile and elegant white marble steps.

As he ascended, the path and central structure became more shadowed. By the time he reached the top, they were pitch black. A final staircase rose along the central structure and led him to a rounded platform that stuck out as the structure continued upward. When Tōshirō stepped forward and looked up, it became obvious that he had climbed an enormous statue of a crowned woman, its head still towering above him. In context, he realized he was standing on the statue's horizontally extended arm. At the far end, the arm ended in a fist holding up a massive red monstrance. A shadowy figure knelt as though in prayer at the juncture of hand and wrist. It looked like a girl with hair made of loose vines and fused legs that transitioned into widespread roots, hands clasped reverently before her bowed head. The Witch was completely black. Beyond the monstrance, a stationary rose window emanated harsh white light.

Tōshirō wished the Witch had a less human silhouette. In retrospect, he was glad Karin's Witch hadn't been humanoid. The Arrancar he had fought in the Winter War had been human in their own way, but had actively and deliberately been trying to kill shinigami. Witches, he gathered, were madly lashing out in mindless pain. A more human appearance made a Witch more difficult to fight— it was easier to see the girl whose soul had been distorted and feel pity.

Akemi had been right to use the words “put her out of her misery.”

Tōshirō steeled himself, surveyed the area, and charged at the Witch's apparently unprotected back— he figured there must be some kind of defense and wanted to draw it out into the open from the start. He was proven correct when the loose roots at the base of the Witch thrust into the ground. Black, snake-like Familiars sprouted from the ground in neat, garden-like rows and lashed out for the shinigami from either side while small branches sprouted from the Witch's back and spread to look like the silhouette of ragged angel wings. Tōshirō slashed the first wave of Familiars in half. Their bodies fell to the ground and writhed before disintegrating in shadowy clouds. A second wave immediately followed the first, whiplike bodies with the heads of many different animals slavering at the chance to tear him to shreds with their teeth. Too close to defend, Tōshirō dodged around them— straight into the branches suddenly growing from the Witch's back with explosive force, accompanied by a grinding and groaning of wood that sounded uncomfortably like a tortured human wail.

Eyes wide, Tōshirō thrust his sword forward and shouted, “Ryūsenka!” in hope of either shattering the branches or delaying them for the two seconds it took for the full extent of Hyōrinmaru's wings to materialize around him once more for protection. He ended up getting a combination of both, a good deal of thick branches snapping off when contact with his blade caused ice to blossom explosively. Those branches remaining slammed into his wings and bore him skyward. Tōshirō allowed the Witch to throw him and even propelled himself backward with it, hoping that he could avoid being badly stabbed by moving the same direction as the attack. The smaller side-shoots of the branches sheared off against his icy armor. When the branches reached their greatest extent, Tōshirō beat his reformed wings and continued to move back and up. He perched on the giant statue's crown and looked down at the Witch.

The Witch had an entire jagged tree sticking out of its back. It was black and enormous, making the kneeling figure look like a little girl sitting by a felled redwood. The branches stayed still for a few moments, then shivered and incrementally withdrew to the Witch until they were once again the seemingly harmless ruined wings on its back.

Tōshirō frowned in thought. Rushing at it from behind and hacking at it would probably end with him badly injured or dead. Those branches were no joke and the Familiars were extremely maneuverable. Its back was just too well-protected. Ideally, this Witch would be best handled by a team working together, one to draw attention to the back and the other to sneak attack the front. But Tōshirō was alone.

Well, not completely.

Hyōrinmaru perked up in interest. They conferred for a minute. I like this plan, the dragon said smugly.

It's a gamble, Tōshirō demurred.

A reasonable gamble, considering.

A minute later, the shinigami dropped from the statue in a full stoop, body shimmering as he silently conjured multiple ice dragon constructs to snake out and meet the Familiars head-on. Dragons with maws full of icicle fangs crushed the heads of the first line of defense while the shinigami rocketed past them and shot a bolt of ice straight at the Witch's back. The Witch responded with another explosion of monstrous tree limbs. The shinigami didn't bother to dodge, instead being run through multiple times and carried back in the onslaught until he completely shattered.

His ice clone destroyed, Tōshirō allowed his concealment kidō to lapse as he dove for the Witch's unguarded front from atop the red monstrance. His true blade stabbed the Witch in the heart. For the briefest of moments, Tōshirō was face-to-face with the Witch. Unexpectedly sane brown eyes opened and stared at him in surprise before the Witch burst into particles of shimmering red light and coalesced into a Soul Gem as the cathedral wavered out of existence.

Chapter Text

DREIUNDDREIßIG

TIMELINE X+N

Usually, Akon would be extremely conscious of being observed by multiple captains as he worked, would feel their stares as an itch between his shoulders as they watched and expected scientific miracles to fall from his fingertips. Instead, he was part of such a frenzy that he barely noticed captains filing into the control room until the Captain Commander himself graced them with his presence. The frantic technicians flinched as one at the feel of his very unhappy reiatsu, but kept working. If anything, they worked even harder. Nemu coolly nudged Akon aside and took over the terminal he had claimed beside Hiyosu, her hands smoothly continuing to rewrite code much faster than Akon was capable of. Oh, he was good— he had to be very well-rounded to get to Third Seat— but he was more a physical sciences kind of guy. Nemu probably dreamed in code compared to him. Akon looked around and found that his subordinates were doing their jobs excellently... leaving him nothing to do but observe and wait. And answer questions.

“Report,” rumbled Captain-Commander Yamamoto.

Akon looked around. “Captain Kurotsuchi—?”

Without even glancing at him, Nemu murmured, “Our captain is engaged in a delicate experiment upon the Grief Seed in our custody.” She fell silent, obviously handing the responsibility of reporting to Akon. The Captain-Commander expectantly raised his brows at Akon, who took a deep breath.

The Third Seat was only a few sentences in when Hiyosu interrupted with a loud, “Japan/Korea data interface restored!”

It was probably quite rude, but Akon ended his report and wheeled around to look at the screens. “Status?”

“Still lagging at minimal functionality. Better than nothing. I'll pull up the map.” Hiyosu went still. After a moment, he looked at Akon and said, “Uhhhh.” He tapped a series of keys that put his screen on the main monitor.

Everyone looked at it. Busy scientists glanced, blanched, and turned back to their work. The captains stared. Most of them didn't know what they were looking at except that it was a map of Japan with random colored blotches.

Captain Hirako, having lived in the World of the Living for an extended period, whistled lowly. “I'm guessin' this works like human weather radar, but for spirit stuff? Scale'a blank is good, green ain't too bad, and red is really bad?”

“Yes,” Akon replied distractedly.

Captain Hirako scratched his head, face considering. “So that red, purple, and black hurricane-thing over Karakura is seriously bad news.”

“You could say that,” Akon strained.

“What is it?” asked Captain Ukitake.

“I don't know, but it is a Witch wavelength,” Akon replied. “We think. Massively amplified— beyond Espada class, even— but more Witch than Hollow. We were still tinkering with Witch calibration when this happened.”

“I thought a Hollow hurricane was supposed to drop on Mitakihara,” Captain Muguruma grumbled, crossing his arms in annoyance. That part of the map was clear.

Akon blinked, thought, and looked back at the screen. “Oh.”

“What 'oh'?” drawled Captain Kyōraku.

“I wonder if this is that rumored Walpurgisnacht thing Urahara reported.”

There was uneasy silence for a moment. Nemu broke it with a cool, “Mid-range on-site remote operations partially restored. Stationary sensors inoperable. Deploying surveillance drone.”

While waiting for further word from Nemu, the Captain-Commander turned his eyes back to Akon. “Were you able to contact our assets in Karakura?”

“No, sir,” Akon answered grimly.

Yamamoto grunted. “Keep trying.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Video,” Nemu announced. She tapped a few keys and took over the main screen. “Drone is approximately fifteen kilometers from the center of the disturbance.”

The image wasn't the best, but the Karakura skyline was recognizable. The video jittered and shivered from clarity to static and in and out of focus at random intervals. Above Karakura was an inverted doll-like figure hanging from a series of cogs that were roughly as far across as all of downtown Karakura. Hundreds of small figures were darting through the air, the flashes of reiatsu-based attacks glimmering among the confusing mess.

“It looks like a damn alien invasion,” Captain Hirako said incredulously. “Mothership, dogfights, an' all.”

“A mother-what now?” Captain Kyōraku asked in morbid curiosity.

Captain Soi Fon glared at Shinji. “Have you withheld knowledge of an enemy, Hirako?”

“Fiction, Soi Fon,” Captain Ōtoribashi interrupted with a deep sigh. “He's referring to a popular opponent in human fiction.”

Akon wondered if the reinstated Visored were tired of the culture gap still driving a wedge between them and other shinigami after over two years back in Soul Society.

Before Soi Fon could snap a reply, the screen flared brightly and went blank.

“My fuckin' eyes,” snarled Captain Zaraki. His tiny pink-haired lieutenant giggled from her perch on his shoulder.

“Mid-range sensors offline again,” Hiyosu reported unhappily. “Aaaand the Japan/Korea data interface has frozen again.”

Nemu's fingers flew over her keyboard as all the technicians tensely tried to reconnect with the World of the Living. A breathless ten minutes later, Nemu manged to hobble the drone up onto a building, turn it in the correct direction, and get a shaky visual of Karakura once more.

Something like a multicolored bonfire was raging at the base of the giant invader. The air below, which had been dense with flying combatants, was clear of everything but hundreds of colored circles. Except for the dancing flames, all was still.

No sign of any surviving defenders.

Captain-Commander Yamamoto scowled. He turned to the door and began to leave. He glanced at his Captains, eyes hard. Akon held his breath.

“Deploy.”

It took several moments for Isshin's eyes to adjust to the sudden dimness of the cavern he found himself in. The first thing he noticed was an overpowering smell of sweets— chocolate, cinnamon, vanilla, that indescribable scent that meant that something containing a great deal of sugar had been baked to perfection. When he could see properly, he was immediately disturbed.

Though the ground and walls felt solid, they were brown with swirls of white that reminded him of chocolate cake with white icing drizzled onto it. A closer look convinced him that at least half of the icing was actually gauze bandages haphazardly strewn about. Everything the cavern contained seemed to be a twisted hospital scene. Red and blue tubes were draped along the ceiling in a manner that suggested blood vessels, but they connected a great number of IV bags that also hung from the ceiling. Each bag had a stamp on it that looked like a pink mouse wearing a white nurse's cap. One side of the long hall was divided into uneven staging areas like those in emergency rooms, each stall separated by shoddy pink railings and giant surgical scissors that had been stabbed into the cake floor. The staging areas were numbered out of order and each featured a crude bed made out of a dessert— flans, cupcakes, tiramisu, even a gelatin mold. Upon each “bed” sat lanky nurses wearing pink dresses and white nurse caps. Instead of faces and hair, their heads featured uneven concentric white and blue rings that looked like they had been scribbled with blue ballpoint pen. The heads bobbled on their necks as they... well, it was hard to say they looked at Isshin when they had no eyes, but they seemed to turn in his direction.

The nurse Familiars lurched to their feet and approached the former shinigami captain, shrieking without mouths and wielding clipboards, syringes, IV poles, scalpels, and other medical items. They fell to Engetsu's blade fairly simply. Isshin heard squeaking and turned just in time to see several creatures hurry further into the labyrinth. Not seeing any other choice, he followed them.

The dim cavern wandered in every which way but straight. The path was lined with giant sewing needles stabbed into the cake floor with thick thread draped through their eyes. Syringes varying from small to giant, filled and empty, were jabbed into the walls and floors along with surgical pins, tweezers, scissors, and even bandaids. Whatever creatures were nearby managed to stay out of sight but the steady squeaks they made betrayed their presence. Giant desserts were littered throughout— chocolate chip cookies, Belgian waffles, rock candy, slices of pie, eclairs— a sugar addict's dream amid the ominous medical equipment.

Isshin finally saw what the squeaking creatures were when he rounded a corner and found a chamber lit in garish overhead hospital lights. This area strongly favored donuts and jellybeans. Strewn among them were giant glass vials. Some of them contained medicine, others candy, still others held surgical instruments. Hurrying around the bottles were bulbous... things... as tall as his hip with pink stick legs. They were black with red spots. While their faces were the same featureless rings the nurses had, these creatures also had droopy purple mouse ears, pink mouse tails, and squeaked like mice. Isshin mentally dubbed the Familiars the Mice From Hell. They seemed non-threatening up until Isshin realized he was surrounded by them. He swung Engetsu back just as they all pounced.

The skirmish was sloppy, the sheer concentration of enemies making it difficult to do anything fancier than repeatedly slash around him. They didn't seem to be able to do much harm to him on their own, but as a mob they seemed determined to bury him. Whether they meant to suffocate him or stall him, Isshin couldn't say. Whichever it was didn't matter anyway— he had a fight to get back to outside.

Isshin flared his reiatsu to repel the Mice From Hell just enough for him to shunpo to the top of an upright stick of Pocky while charging a Getsuga Tenshō on his blade. He paused for a moment for the mice to regroup then slung the burning moonlight at the entire pack. He clinically repeated the attack several times. There was a cacophony of rodent screeches, but it soon died down. Isshin stayed where he was until the air cleared; nothing was left but the scent of burnt sugar.

The shinigami dropped from the cookie stick and extended his senses before cautiously moving toward the strongest source of Hollow-like reiatsu. He soon found a door. Its hinges creaked as he slipped through it and shut it behind him. The new area was even dimmer than the initial maze. The only source of light was a hazy white mist that glowed softly around a collection of big, free-floating glass medicine vials with the same strange contents he had seen in the others. He looked down and couldn't see much of his own feet in the blackness. Looking forward, he didn't see a solid path. Just darkness and the occasional row of soft white dots that could be anything.

The moonlight power Engetsu held within Isshin's soul waned to a crescent, the zanpakutō spirit as taut with unease as his master.

Isshin cautiously stepped forward and found solid ground. He wanted to shunpo through the section as quickly as possible but was wary of doing so when he couldn't see what he might land on. So he walked the hall of vials with a measured pace, constantly waiting for the invisible floor to give out under him. It was anticlimactic when he reached a glowing white door with chocolate bars on it.

On the other side of the door was an area littered with more sweets leading up to a bridge through darkness. It was black with large pink polka dots and warped pink railings. The absolute quiet was getting unnerving— at least when the mice had been squeaking, he had known they were there. Isshin didn't know what to expect. He settled for crossing the bridge on foot, on alert for attack from any direction.

Birthday candles as big as streetlights flared to life in the darkness on either side of the bridge as Isshin walked. Medicine capsules fell from above like snow while warm will-o'-the-wisps floated upward. Candies and desserts and dead Mice From Hell dangled from the distant ceiling on the hooked ends of surgical sutures. Though on a mission, Isshin found his mind wandering, comparing this labyrinth to— the one he had seen before. The significance of the items in— the one he had seen before. The juxtaposition of sweets and hospital miscellany provoked several ideas about what struggles the soul at the center of the labyrinth had faced in life. One thought led to another until he had the disconcerting realization that he was walking through the soul of some other father's daughter. Some other father's daughter had been manipulated into selling her soul and becoming... this. He had known it, yes, but thinking in those terms made it all so much worse.

Engetsu waxed, warm summer moonlight reassuringly settling on Isshin's shoulders in the eerie dark. Thirst for justice thrummed through them.

At the end of the bridge, Isshin found himself on top of a cliff that looked like frosting. He cautiously approached edge and peered around the new chamber. Mice From Hell were marching along ledges made of messily stacked strawberry charlotte layers. Isshin searched the room and saw a door on the far end. He glanced between it and the marching mice, calculating. The things hadn't seemed particularly fast or smart and he really did need to get this over with as soon as possible. Mind made up, Isshin sprinted across the room with shunpo and wrenched the door open as the mice screeched and started tumbling down to confront him. He slammed the door shut, cast a quick temporary barrier, and looked around. Barring a door with a giant slice of fruitcake wasn't something he ever thought he'd do, but hey, it worked.

So he advanced, rushing through chambers with as little fighting as possible. He hit a snag with another hall full of the disturbing nurse Familiars, but they didn't slow him much because he managed to take out most of them with a wide Getsuga Tenshō launched straight down the hall. It wasn't long before he found himself in a small, round room whose walls were made of Neapolitan cake and featured a door with a black silhouette of the stamp he had seen on IV bags, cookies, and medicine jars throughout the labyrinth. The words “chocolate flavor” were obvious, but a long word was scribbled beneath it in illegible runes. There was a big cupcake on either side of the door with giant hors d'oeuvre forks jammed in their pink frosting. He could sense that the Witch was on the other side of the door— the Hollow-like reiatsu was sharply more powerful as he approached. On the one hand, he was pleased to have gotten through the labyrinth unscathed. On the other... Isshin frowned.

Too easy.

Suspiciously easy, considering— considering the difficulty reaching the center of— of his daughter's labyrinth.

…He hoped he had sufficiently expressed his limitless rage toward the Incubators for putting his baby through that when he had written his time capsule contribution. He wanted to ensure that his past self would be just as wrathful as he felt without his girls having to suffer and without Ichigo and him having to live through the horror and grief.

Anyway. Back on track: The Witch beyond the door. Homura had obliquely implied the Witches varied in strength and ability to snare victims, so perhaps this Witch was just weak. Call him paranoid, but what he sensed beyond the door didn't feel weak. Tense, Isshin opened the door and stepped through it.

The area beyond the door was immense and dim. From what he could see, it was a wide plain littered with more gigantic desserts. When he craned his head back to look up, he saw distant white sparkles. Not liking this one bit, he adjusted his grip on Engetsu and cautiously stepped forward.

The cavern echoed with the sound of a cellophane bag of cookies being jostled as a cluster of multicolored sparkles in its center revealed a tea table and pair of chairs with ridiculously tall legs. Bright white icing oozed down the cavern walls and gradually lit Isshin's surroundings. The plain turned out to be the top of a giant frosted cake. Isshin glanced down and wiggled a foot. The surface was mostly firm, but had a mud-like slipperiness beneath a hard crust— buttercream. As the light improved, Isshin saw that dozens of the tall tea tables were scattered around the chamber at varying heights and angles.

Isshin snapped his head up as the sound of a cellophane bag being torn open came from above, accompanied by a burst of Hollow-like reiatsu. The lights brightened still more as a pink... mouse plushie? wearing a red and black cape, a black mantle with pink polka dots, and a loose-sleeved brown shirt fluttered down from the ceiling and landed on one of the chairs at the central tea table. It was definitely the Witch, but with its white face, rosy cheeks, and blue button eyes it looked like a stuffed animal his Yuzu would dote upon. If Isshin had to do a threat assessment on appearance alone, he'd rate it a zero on a scale of one to ten.

Engetsu's banked embers smoldered brighter. You thought it yourself: Suspiciously easy. Be careful.

Isshin grunted agreement and leapt up onto the nearest tea table. Wanting to get it over with quickly, he darted from table to table with shunpo until he was higher than the middle table and launched himself straight at the plushie, Engetsu's blade thrust out before him.

The pink plushie fell aside at the last moment and fluttered toward the ground like a fallen leaf.

Isshin looked at the Witch strangely as he turned in midair and flared his power through his blade to burn off the remains of the wooden chair, then slung a Getsuga Tenshō at the plushie. Its seemingly random fluttering twisted aside at the last moment. It plopped to the ground haphazardly, as though discarded by a distracted child. Isshin landed on a shorter table and threw a flurry of the same attack, herding the plushie toward a giant slice of cake. When it was trapped against the improvised wall, Isshin sped in close with a Shakkahō spell gleaming in his fist and punched the plushie's body. There was a small explosion and a sound of tearing fabric as the doll's simple, straight line of a mouth opened.

Engetsu's alarm had Isshin jumping backwards with shunpo before he even knew what he was reacting to. Something bulged forth from the toy's mouth, illogically enormous compared to that which contained it. First came a round white face with doily-like scalloped edges, mismatched eyes with multicolored rings in their irises, a conical nose like a party hat with a puffball on top, and two winglike moth antennae— one blue, one red. It was followed by a long black body that just kept coming.

At first Isshin thought the creature that emerged like a tasteless canned snake prank and ballooned hundreds of times larger than the little plushie was laughably cartoonish. Then it opened its mouth.

Teeth, teeth, and more teeth.

In one frozen moment of clarity, Isshin remembered the audio file Kisuke had sent him of Homura's initial interview.

“Then Mami fought the monster by herself. She tied it up and shot it but it didn't die— a bigger monster came out its mouth a-and bit Mami's h-head off and ate her body.”

He had no way of knowing if this was the Witch that had eaten Mami Tomoe, but the mental image of the goofy face opening its mouth full of horrific teeth as the gentle girl in the missing persons posters stared at her oncoming death did something profound to him. Hardened him.

The Witch soared after Isshin as he kept moving backwards, crazed eyes tracking him as it followed. Isshin lobbed a Getsuga Tenshō into the cavernous mouth. The creature's head exploded, but the mouth peeled back farther as another face burst out of it. Isshin scowled and dodged around the chamber, stalling by forcing his pursuer to weave between the tea tables. He doubled back and slung a Getsuga Tenshō at the Witch's midsection, completely slicing it in two. Again, a new body emerged from the mouth of the damaged one.

So it behaved like a disturbing hybrid of nesting dolls and a hydra. Okay.

The Witch's silly face morphed into rage, apparently as frustrated as its opponent. It rolled its coils like a snake, swishing its tail hard to snap tea tables apart at their bases to be rid of obstacles. Isshin withdrew as far as he could, reassessing the cavern and considering his options as the Witch's destructive tantrum continued. He watched its undulating body and had an idea, but....

I'm not as fast as Yoruichi, Isshin mourned to his zanpakutō spirit.

Very few are, Engetsu said drily. We're fast enough, though.

Isshin's lips quirked humorlessly as he jumped into action. He appeared a distance in front of the monster and threw a weak Getsuga Tenshō in its face— just enough to get its attention. He led it on another chase, this time down low around the giant sweets— more solid obstacles than the tea tables. Isshin lured it to a cluster of Piroulines jutting up out of the buttercream floor like a copse of trees and drew it into a rising circle around them. It dogged his heels as they completed one revolution and dove after the shinigami as he dropped sharply left and down behind a Pirouline. The Witch plowed into its own long body face-first. Its eyes blinked comically as it wobbled in a daze and its party hat nose fell off. It didn't even see Isshin coming until the shinigami's blade was hilt-deep in the space between its eyes.

Isshin warily maintained his finishing strike pose and watched the Witch's body glow milky mauve-white and break apart into sparkles. His eyes were drawn back to his blade by a quiet gasp.

Engetsu's hilt was flush against the chest of a small girl with wavy white hair. Her wide eyes faded from the surreal multicolored rings of the Witch to natural hazel. She looked as surprised as Isshin felt.

He knew her face from the Mitakihara articles: Nagisa Momoe.

Nagisa's eyes teared up. Her mouth moved as if to speak but she broke apart and vanished, sparkling white reiatsu condensing into a white Soul Gem as the cave of sweets melted away.

In an instant, Ichigo went from a stormy morning sky to a clear night sky dotted with acid green stars. The disorienting transition felt eerily similar to the many times Riruka and Yukio had admitted him to their Fullbrings, each of which had tossed him into a world completely controlled by its creator. That was disquieting enough without the creeping sense that he should know this place. That he recognized the feel of it at some level but couldn't quite place it. He had no memory of the bizarre cardboard town and its absurd number of telephone poles and high-tension power lines patrolled by arcing electricity. Still, the place gave him the creeps. Stranger yet, he could sense the unease in his usually implacable zanpakutō spirit.

Zangetsu?

Summer moonlight filtered through churning clouds. I do not like this place, the spirit commented in the younger tone of his bankai form. This place... I hate it. Strong words for such an aloof spirit.

Get the fuck outta here, King, snarled Ichigo's Inner Hollow. He sounded unnerved beneath his anger.

Well, that was ominous.

Uneasy, Ichigo looked around from his vantage point in the sky. “Can only do that if we defeat the Witch. I think.” He spotted a menacing radio tower in the distance. “Well, if that doesn't scream 'villain's lair,' I don't know what does,” he said drily.

Ichigo rolled his shoulders uncomfortably and descended to the city, leaping through the deserted streets by using the power poles as stepping stones to conserve energy. He had plenty to spare, of course, but better safe than sorry. There was still a massive enemy to fight when he got out of this place and Captain Unohana wasn't around to restore his reiryoku like she had during the war.

As he progressed, he began to pass clockwork birds perched on wires and cardboard buildings. They rustled their wings with a whirring of tiny gears and mechanically droned “piroripara pirirora” in lieu of birdsong. All at once, the flock mobbed him. The birds weren't particularly threatening on their own and were fairly simple to kill by slashing around with a Getsuga Tenshō charging his blade, but reaching talons and pecking beaks occasionally landed a hit and drew blood. The running battle left a trail of broken clockwork behind him as he bounced from roof to roof. Soon, he found himself on the last rooftops before the base of the tower. The remaining clockwork birds balked and retreated as though more afraid of the tower than the shinigami

The radio tower was made of classic metal latticework. It looked like a cheap knockoff of the Eiffel Tower, spindly bare-bones steel reaching high in the sky. Green electricity arced over the steel at random intervals. A large plasma ball full of green arcs of energy crowned the tower. Pink warning lights pulsed at major joints of the structure. Something bulky hung clustered in the hollow of the tower just beneath the plasma ball.

Ichigo frowned up at it. “What am I supposed to attack? Is the Witch inside? Is the ball the Witch? Is the whole tower the Witch? The one outside is gears and stuff....”

Don't matter, the Hollow said. Destroy the whole mess 'n get the fuck outta here. He gave Ichigo the distinct impression of a threatened cat with its hackles up. Disturbing as hell— the Hollow was usually eager to run into danger and gleefully cause mayhem. Still more disturbing, Zangetsu echoed the same feeling. It made Ichigo's skin crawl.

Eager to get out get out get out, Ichigo swung his arm back and charged his signature attack. He roared as he launched it and felt oddly relieved as the crescent of energy split the tower in half from top to bottom. The mood was short-lived. Thick electrical cords snaked out of the collapsing tower and reached in every direction like a monstrous collection of tentacles. Ichigo prepared another attack but was forced to defend when several sizzling cables whipped his way like anacondas. He dodged around and countered innumerable cables as his ears rang in the shrieking cacophony of fax machines, modems, and distorted human screams. His bankai-enhanced speed was all that kept him from being captured. It became obvious he needed to shake off the relentless cables if he wanted to figure out his next move.

Ichigo dove down into the cardboard city once more and zigzagged through the streets. The huge cables stabbed down from above, missing him and piercing the flimsy building façades. He thought he was doing pretty damn well until he rounded a corner and plowed headlong into a makeshift net of smaller power lines that had been diverted from their poles and woven together.

Trapped.

Ichigo flared his reiatsu and tried to wrest himself free, but it only made the cables tighten. His reiatsu was channeled away by the conductive wires. He was breathless when the big cables descended and dragged him skyward again. Zangetsu and the Hollow were furious at his binding, but before they could react, their triad of power hitched at a sudden sense of déjà vu.

“I got a call. I need to do something.” He was drawn dreamily forward, heeding a call as undeniable as gravity.

Ichigo startled and blinked. His head swam. “The hell was—?” He cut himself off at what he felt from his dual spirits— they were both appalled, dread threading through their link. What the hell, guys?! No answer.

Within the sideways city of skyscrapers that formed Ichigo's Inner World, Tensa Zangetsu and the Hollow watched aghast as cracks spiderwebbed through the windows of the top three stories the eighteen-story building that held Ichigo's memories of the time they lay dormant in his soul. The sixteenth floor of that one building was the only place in their shinigami's mind they had been unable to access. Neither spirit knew what lay within. The pane of glass at the very center of the sixteenth level crumbled completely and left a gap. Green sparks fizzled in the dark hole.

The cables dragged Ichigo back toward the wreckage of the tower. The cracked plasma sphere sat atop the rubble, green and pink energy arcing angrily. The tower had been reduced to electrified, twisted metal. As he approached, half of the cables doubled back and reached down into the wreckage. They went taut and hauled up a jumbled mess of oversized electronics. Surge strips, CPUs, analog telephones, alarm clocks, keyboards, computer mice, speakers, cameras, cell phone chargers, fax machines, modems, routers— all were tangled around a particularly large smart phone whose screen portrayed a glowing red eye with a flat black iris on a black background. The eye rolled around and looked at Ichigo.

His own voice came as though from a great distance. “Here. I won't need it anymore.”

Ichigo blinked rapidly. Guys? No reply. Just angry uncertainty.

A digitized female voice rang in his head. mine mine mine mine mine—

He was trapped in a Hollowfied girl's soul, ensnared in cable-snakes, and facing a tech trash heap that was using goddamn Siri to telepathically chant in his head because God knew he couldn't physically hear anything but screeching fax machines. And here he had thought his weirdness scale would forever be topped by Aizen turning into a butterfly monster.

mine mine mine mine mine—

“I'm not yours!” Ichigo snapped.

Silence. Even the fax and modem sounds died. Then every monitor and screen among the mess of electronics flared to life with static. The digitized voice said, i have wanted you for a long time and i got you i had you but you were taken from me

Ichigo's face screwed up in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?! I've never been here in my life!”

Modems trilled angrily. almost you were the only one who came when invited and you were mine you bore my mark and they took you from me mine mine mine mine mine

Figuring out what the insane soul was talking about was hard when he was also struggling to break free of his binds.

“I won't need it where I'm going,” he said calmly. He promptly climbed... something. It was gone.

those girls won't take you from me this time mine mine mine mine mine

Ichigo shook his head, trying to think clearly. Disoriented, he asked, “What girls?” aloud.

More shrill modems and faxes, this time accompanied with more agitated thrashing of cords. tHoSe gIrLs

The various screens snapped into focus on different video clips of girls. Ichigo froze, eyes wide.

His sisters.

Ichigo turned to face his sisters, looking their direction without really focusing on them. Everything seemed so remote and floaty and pleasant since that idea first wandered across his mind. Face cheerfully relaxed, Ichigo declared his destination. “Soul Society. Do you want to come with?”

Surveillance camera footage of Karin bearing a katana while wearing the red costume he had seen so briefly before she turned into a Witch right in front of him. Images of Yuzu in a frilly yellow costume, face cutely serious as she figured out how to wield a whip. The two of them bouncing around in metal latticework.

tHoSe gIrLs tHoSe gIrLs tHoSe gIrLs

“I understand if you don't want to. I know you don't need me anymore.”

Ichigo felt dizzy and sick. Had he not been suspended by cables, he may have even fallen over. Within him, Tensa Zangetsu and the Hollow's horrified rage intensified as green sparks sped the breaking of the windows and released suppressed memories. They felt foreign and familiar at the same time.

Karin sprinted up to him and grabbed his left arm, screaming at him to stop and listen to her. Ichigo glanced at her, frowned, and shrugged his left arm. She didn't let go. Karin didn't understand. Karin wanted to stop him from moving on. He didn't have time for this. So he used his right fist to punch Karin square in the jaw. Karin shrieked and writhed on the ground, hands holding her bloodied face. It was sad that he had to do that, but it really couldn't be helped. He needed to go. The Voice that spoke soothing death in his head the same way Zangetsu used to advise him in battle said so.

Ichigo craned his head up and looked at the tower he planned to jump from. Jumping would solve all of his problems. The Voice had said so. Peacefully determined in a way he hadn't been in sixteen months, he grasped the ladder's first rung.

In Ichigo's Inner World, the entire top three floors of the cracking building exploded and launched shrapnel in every direction.

Ichigo dry-heaved, his vision fluctuating in dizzying time to the skull-busting headache that felt like he had taken several blows to the head. He had been lured, convinced to commit suicide, had cheerfully begun his attempt in front of his own sisters, and had attacked one of the precious people he had vowed to protect. He was only alive because his sisters had somehow risen to the challenge of saving him. They weren't costumed in his memories. But they were costumed on the screens showing their battle. Had they contracted because he—?

As Ichigo neared blacking out in shock, his blade's spirits leaped skyward in his Inner World with their faces twisted in rage.

They had failed to protect their charge. They had slept through the entire incident, deep in the abyss that had once been filled with Ichigo's power. While they were sleeping, their shinigami had been preyed upon, nearly devoured, had become a threat to that which he fought to protect, had been marked as property of another spirit. And they hadn't known.

tHoSe gIrLs were mean they were so mean they took you away when you were MINE and came back and hurt me tHeY ArE MeAn gIrLs i hOpE ThEy dIe DiE dIe DiE dIe

Unforgivable.

you are mine now mine mine mInE MiNe mInE

Like hell.

The dual spirits worked in concert. Tensa Zangetsu enveloped Ichigo's psyche in warm moonlight and dragged him deep within their rapidly flooding Inner World to protect his mind before he went mad. The Hollow rose to the surface of their shared soul, their body's eyes bleeding into black and gold as a bony mask formed on their face. The mask had scarcely completed itself when its teeth tore open to allow the Hollow to bellow a wordless challenge before screaming, “KING DON'T BELONG TO NO ONE BUT ME!”

The Hollow's reiatsu burst around him in a black and red nimbus, incinerating the cables that bound him. The fight that ensued was the very definition of “one-sided.” The Hollow was vicious and relentless, a monstrous cross of berserker and tactician with a single-minded goal of destroying the thing that had tried to claim his shinigami as its own. The Witch threw everything it had at him, but he lobbed black Getsuga Tenshō crescents into each wave of oncoming electronics as the Witch fled behind them like a frightened spider. Dodging behind the tower wreckage did little good— the Hollow just sliced through girders like grass and kept coming. With his devastating speed and strength, the Hollow soon had the Witch whittled down to a sparking mess of tightly-knit broken electronics. The Hollow hauled his arm back and prepared to slice it in two. In a last desperate effort, the Witch made a cable whip from behind him and ensnare his sword hand at the apex of his backswing.

The cable wasn't strong enough to hold him back by a long shot but the very fact that the Witch dared to try to restrain him— cage him, claim him— pushed the Hollow to new levels of fury. The red stripes on the bone mask broadened as it grew forward-pointing horns and its mouth opened again. As it shrieked, red light gathered between its horns, condensed, and shot forward as a Hollow's signature attack— a Cero.

The ball of red light blasted straight through the giant smart phone's eye, glass and tech guts exploding violently as something solid launched out its back. The Hollow snapped the cord around his wrist and pursued the thing that had been knocked back. He found it writhing among ruins: a shifting, vaguely human-shaped mass of wires, circuitry, and electrical tape shedding green and pink sparks as it made a keening sound and bled brilliant green antifreeze.

Without a moment's hesitation, the Hollow shifted his grip on his sword and plunged it into the mass. He shrieked as he stabbed it over and over, not bothering to stop when the whole construct glowed green and formed a magical girl with bright green hair in two thick pigtails. The last thing the terrified soul saw was the demonic gold glow of the Hollow's eyes peering out of the dark holes of its mask as it shrieked and stabbed her face. Then she burst into green light and reformed into a green Soul Gem.

The Hollow cleaved the Soul Gem in two and howled in triumph as the labyrinth evaporated.

A lightninglike surge of power sizzled in the sky north of Karakura and rapidly expanded into a glowing pink rectangle. It spread wide, its glow fading as a long series of shoji panels manifested in front of it. The shoji split in the middle, panels sliding to either side to form a large doorway. Black butterflies fluttered out over the shoulders of many high-ranking officers of the Thirteen Divisions.

The reinforcements had arrived.

Chapter Text

V IERUNDDREIßIG

TIMELINE X+N

Kisuke could be forgiven for the impatient sigh he heaved as he got his bearings in the labyrinth. He had worked through two nights in a row with only a catnap before dawn. The attack was unexpected and he was just done. The part of him that would never cease to be an excellent Second Division officer and stealth operations master came out not to play, but to get the job done. The labyrinth was more complex than he really had the patience for, but he cleared it methodically. The giant rose bush Witch at its center was bulky and awkward, its most dangerous aspect being the versatile thorn vines and scissors it could summon for attacking at a distance. It was an annoyance to counter, but he managed it. More interested in speed than finesse, he released Benihime and used her energy attacks to overwhelm the giant tree-blob-butterfly monster.

Kisuke ignored the Grief Seed falling out of the sky where the Witch had been to assess the battlefield above Karakura. Multiple fighters were just plain missing. Whether they were dead or still trapped, he didn't know. Best to assume their firepower to be lost. Hiyori was boxed in by multiple Witch sigils she was smart enough to not just charge into but looked like that patience would soon die. Jinta wasn't far from her, squinting at sigils and looking murderous. A sigil off to Kisuke's right evaporated and left behind Captain Hitsugaya and a Soul Gem which immediately hatched a Hell Butterfly that drifted away on the wind. Hitsugaya cast about until he made eye contact with the shop owner. Kisuke couldn't help but notice the young captain looked much the worse for wear; that and his active bankai implied Hitsugaya had received a formidable opponent.

Another sigil shattered. Ichigo emerged with his Hollow mask on. The mask was one of its more evolved versions featuring horns, which was worrying. Ichigo bellowed and charged forward— straight into another sigil— and disappeared. Okay.

Yoruichi, a cat once more, landed on Kisuke's shoulder with a snap of displaced air. “That might be a problem,” she muttered. “I think he's completely berserk. That's at least the fifth one he's plowed into trying to get to Walpurgisnacht.”

Kisuke looked the way Ichigo had come. Sure enough, there was a path cleared of sigils. “Huh. I wonder what set him off. His control is usually much better than this.” He glanced at Yoruichi then back to Walpurgisnacht. “Didn't expect you to go kitty on us mid-fight.”

Yoruichi scoffed at the implied question. “It's easier to dodge around the things when I'm small.” She huffed. “Have a plan?”

Kisuke hummed and looked at Walpurgisnacht. A multicolored wildfire raged beneath the headless mannequin portion. Otherwise, it was just rotating in place with no minions flying about. He was too experienced to write it off as defenseless. Homura had said the core of the Witch was its cogs. Go for them? They'd need a massive, preferably coordinated attack to affect such a large opponent. And he didn't want to go through more labyrinths to get to it. It would waste too much time while Walpurgisnacht would have free rein to possibly attack widely enough to take out Homura, who he could sense was not as far away as he would have liked. At least she hadn't jumped into battle. He was grateful for— and impressed by— her restraint. Anyway, he had a problem to solve and no sigh could adequately express his blend of frustration and exhaustion.

Several things happened all at once:

Isshin reappeared in the sky just as Ichigo broke out of the labyrinth he had dived into.

Ichigo— or his Hollow, it seemed— stood in place, his reiatsu seething with frustrated killing intent, and charged a massive black Getsuga Tenshō. The attack blew through the sigils obstructing his path and obliterated the mannequin portion of Walpurgisnacht and about a dozen of the main cog's teeth.

The main cog of the Witch's assembly span much faster.

Ichigo leapt forward to attack, but was snared by another sigil.

A senkaimon from Soul Society opened roughly five kilometers north of the main battle. The defenders who were outside labyrinths and in their right minds recognized a number of captain-class reiatsu signatures emerging from it.

“Well, I'll be damned,” drawled Yoruichi. “The old man came.”

“How unlike him,” Kisuke said distractedly, staring at the Witch. “I wonder what intel Twelfth managed to pick up. It must be quite alarming to provoke this level of response.”

Yoruichi rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”

Kisuke glanced at the shinigami reinforcements, who seemed to be assessing the situation. How long until Homura's departure? How long did he have to keep the shinigami from being able to confront her? He didn't want to take the risk that them restraining her would ruin her time travel ability. He flicked his eyes to the cat on his shoulder. “Care to take a kittygram to our kindly old grandpa?”

Yoruichi snorted. “I suppose. What am I saying?”

“Go to Isshin and snag his phone, then take it to the Captain-Commander. Speaker phone, please. I'll take it from there.” The black cat flickered away without replying. Kisuke pulled his own phone out of a pocket and frowned at the time.

The Soul Society contingent held position in the stormy sky on the Captain-Commander's orders. Whatever had changed between their last video and their arrival had resulted in several defenders being accounted for. Kisuke Urahara's reiatsu was distinctly present. Yamamoto chose to give the man five minutes to relay information to him since the enemy didn't seem to be actively attacking anything. Best not to rush in with no intel and make a bad situation worse if they could avoid it.

Without warning, a black cat alighted on top of Soi Fon's head. The captain's first instinct was to stab her small zanpakutō upwards, but she froze when she recognized the reiatsu of the person she most admired. “Y-yoruichi—!”

Yoruichi dug her claws into her protègée's scalp and thrust her face forward and up to draw attention to the phone in her mouth. Yamamoto only had to glance at his lieutenant to prompt the man to dart forward, retrieve the phone, and relay it to his captain. The phone immediately began to ring.

“Speaker phone, he said,” Yoruichi called out. The old man raised one bushy brow, decided that would be most efficient, and accepted the call.

“Kisuke Urahara,” he rumbled.

“Good morning, sir! It's so kind of you to visit. Lovely weather we're having, yes?”

Yamamoto closed his eyes. It was like the man had a pathological need to be obnoxious. “You failed to report.”

“Well, I've been a tad busy, sir.”

“I see,” Yamamoto said drily. In the distance, the Kurosaki whelp broke free of a sigil, roared, and launched a black attack that completely broke a smaller gear below the main cog. Girl-shaped beings of starry reiatsu and dancing flames swarmed out of the bonfire beneath Walpurgisnacht and mobbed him. “What is Kurosaki doing?”

Entirely too chipper, Urahara replied, “Going completely berserk, from the look of it.”

Off to Yamamoto's left, Kenpachi Zaraki cackled in appreciation while his lieutenant cooed over the whirlwind of violence around the young Visored in the midst of the battle. Zaraki's third seat grinned and his fifth seat started murmuring as though giving an art critique.

He was too damn old for this. “What happened?”

“Well, he's had a rough couple of days, what with the whole dead sisters thing—”

“You know that's not what I mean,” Yamamoto said without emotion. He suspected the scientist was stalling for some unknown reason and did not like it one bit. “Report.”

Yamamoto waved his captains closer to listen to the scientist's briefing on the enemy's abilities. He clinically observed everything in the general vicinity as the former exile spoke. Extensive property damage, mass casualties among the humans, sketchy guesses at best for motive and enemy... a total disaster even without the added headache of the rapid dissemination of information and photos among the living these days. It was a logistical nightmare. Things had been so much simpler even a century earlier.

“Therefor, I propose a coordinated attack on the central structure,” Urahara concluded. “It is actually quite fortunate you came. We should have enough combined firepower to do this.”

Yamamoto grunted agreement. “We will surround the Witch. Those with powerful ranged attacks will use them, then those with heavy melee attacks will rush in from below. We'll brute force it. Stay far enough below the enemy's position to fire upward. Minimize collateral damage if possible. Avoid bankai if possible to minimize soul suffocation of the humans below.” He slid his eyes to the captain of Second Division. “Except for you, Soi Fon. I want you high in the sky and ready to fire your bankai at it if it tries to flee. Your lieutenant may accompany you.” He made eye contact with the other officers around him as Soi Fon looked sour but nodded. “If that occurs, I expect the rest of you to do your utmost to protect the city from debris.”

“Sounds like a plan!” the scientist chirped. “I'll call Captain Hitsugaya to tell him and Yoruichi will relay the plan to the oth— ooh, Hachi's back! Great!”

“Thanks for volunteering me, Kisuke,” the cat droned.

“You're welcome!” Beep! Call disconnected.

It was times like this that made Yamamoto glad Urahara had declined the invitation to return to Seireitei. Just the thought of dealing with the man on a daily basis was maddening.

“Who are they?” Homura asked seriously as she peered at the newcomers with her field glasses. They were just far enough away for the visual aid to be useless for seeing their faces.

“The captains and some of the lieutenants of the Thirteen Divisions,” Orihime answered cheerfully. “You can always tell a captain by their white haori with their division number on their back. Lieutenants have an armband with their division number on it.”

Homura hummed her understanding. “Anything basic I should know about them? How to tell who's who? How to avoid making them hate me?”

“Ummmmmmmmm.” Orihime lowered her binoculars and put a finger to her chin, looking upward in thought. “Captain-Commander Yamamoto is an old man with a really long beard. He's very serious and wants people to be respectful and responsible and obey rules.”

Not unexpected, given his rank.

“Captain Soi Fon is the lady captain with short hair. She likes respectful people who follow rules, too. She doesn't like Mr. Urahara. And Tessai told me to never say bad things about Yoruichi in front of her because she likes Yoruichi a lot.”

Reasonable.

“Captain Zaraki is a really big man who loves to fight. He wears an eye patch, but both his eyes are fine. His patch is special— it helps him control his power. He'll like you if you can show him strong enemies to fight. His lieutenant is a little girl named Yachiru. She has pink hair and loves fighting, too. Captain Zaraki doesn't like when people are mean to her. They're nice and good in a fight but you need to lead them places instead of giving them directions 'cause they'll get lost.”

Simple enough.

“Captain Unohana is the lady captain with really long hair she braids in front of her. She's a healer. She's very calm and nice. I've never seen her angry, but my shinigami friends said even other captains are afraid of making her angry. So I guess if she likes you, maybe shinigami who don't like you will leave you alone? She likes people who are nice to her division members and don't make a mess or a lot of noise in her hospital. Rukia said she likes flowers.”

She could work with that.

“Stay away from Captain Kurotsuchi. He's a mad scientist. His zanpakutō is poisonous so don't get cut by it at all, ever. Uryū says his lieutenant keeps an antidote with her, though. That captain is easy to spot because he always wears funny hats and black and white face paint like rock star.”

Homura lowered her glasses and gave Orihime a weird look.

“Oh! Captain Komamura is very nice, but he looks kinda surprising. He's a big dog-man. Wolf-man? So maybe try to act like the dog part is no big deal.”

Homura's brow twisted at the absurdity.

“Hey,” Tatsuki interrupted. She was squinting through the rain with her hand shielding her eyes. “I think they're gonna do something.”

Both girls raised their binoculars once more. The shinigami contingent had spread out in a wide circle below and around Walpurgisnacht. Most of them, anyway— a man with formidable magic and a very long gray beard remained where the group had first appeared. Their commander, Homura realized.

The girls looked up as they sensed a pulse of power up high, but couldn't see anything through the storm. “That was Captain Soi Fon,” Orihime commented. Homura made note of what that captain's magic felt like.

The sky suddenly lit up with the flashes of multiple ranged attacks. It was mostly a continuous barrage of extremely powerful shinigami magic. A cloud of cherry blossoms, of all things, swirled around the main cog counter to its spin and ground the gear teeth down like a lathe. Ichigo's berserk Hollow apparently had enough wits about him to take a hint and throw his own Cero and black Getsuga Tenshō into the mix. The attacks abruptly stopped on some signal the distant girls couldn't see, but their explosions hadn't yet cleared when several figures rushed toward Walpurgisnacht. Most obvious, a gigantic, ghostly disembodied arm stabbed an enormous translucent sword into the cogs, which made an unholy screech of metal on metal. A burly shinigami launched forward and up as a veritable comet of yellow reiatsu with such strong bloodlust that the girls shuddered at it despite being far away. Similar glowing shinigami followed, blazing rainbow trails as they dodged under and up past the less dense concentration of Witch sigils directly beneath Walpurgisnacht. The Witch shuddered.

The three girls whipped their heads away from the scene, recoiling from a painfully bright explosion.

Kisuke blindly threw a kidō shield up in front of him with one hand and used the other to hold a strong healing kidō over his closed eyes. He blinked and squinted as soon as he thought he'd be able to see.

Walpurgisnacht had broken down into a dense cloud of multicolored reishi spinning like a miniature hurricane, a million points of light floating in a beautiful spiral. The many Witch sigils that studded the sky glimmered and collapsed into glitter that drifted toward the cloud with its spin. Awed shinigami watched in wonder as the cloud tightened its rotation like a nebula of precious gems. The reishi formed a large globe, then continued to condense smaller and smaller as it spun, shifted through different colors, and glowed more and more brightly. Its power multiplied as it became more concentrated. The sphere shone like a small star.

Kisuke's relieved smile slowly fell while others stayed curious. His eyes widened in recognition.

Hōgyoku.

And unless he was mistaken, one far more perfect than either of those created by himself and Aizen.

Homura made her magic heal her eyes with a thought and stared at the newborn star in the sky. Wings seemed to sprout from its top and curled down protectively, cast in shadow by the sheer intensity of light shining behind them. Her eyes widened in recognition. She lowered her binoculars and took a step back, slowly shaking her head in confused denial.

Tatsuki was cussing about her eyes somewhere off to her left. Orihime's fairies chimed off to her right, followed by a sigh of relief and a gasp of delight. “It's so pretty!” She bounced excitedly. “They did it!”

Homura just kept shaking her head and dropped the binoculars altogether.

Orihime noticed and frowned in doubt. Turned to look at the apparent miracle. Tentatively gauged the feel of its magic. Blanched and looked like she recognized it.

Urahara landed on the rooftop with a snap, eyes wild in his bloodied face. He strode to Homura and roughly grabbed her arm. “Forget the plan! This changes everything! Go straight to me as soon as you get back! Tell me Walpurgisnacht can turn into a Hōgyoku!”

Homura blinked up at him and knit her brow. “A Ho-what?”

“Mister Urahara, should a Hōgyoku have wings?” Orihime asked with a shaky voice.

Urahara pivoted and looked skyward. The shape must have appeared behind him in transit. He frowned in confusion. “Wings?”

Homura's confusion mirrored his, but for an entirely different reason. “Those aren't wings,” she said dully.

Everyone looked to her. “Homura?” Orihime asked. “W-what are they?”

The “wings” expanded still more. Homura just stared in disbelief.

She knew that shape. Hated that shape. Had seen a small version of the same thing around the glow of countless newly-forged Soul Gems as false bunny ears extended and grabbed at girls' souls with greedy fingers.

Whatever a Hōgyoku was, the Incubator was the one making it.

“Miss Akemi,” Urahara prompted tensely.

“That's the Incubator.”

Silence as Tatsuki was completely lost and Urahara and Orihime breathed sharply and stared at the light show.

“Even worse,” Urahara said lowly. He looked at Homura again. “You must tell me that the Incubator can make a Hōgyoku. It changes everything.”

Homura scowled and squirmed her shoulder out from under the man's hand. “Why? What does it do? It looks like it's making a Soul Gem from here.”

Urahara froze. His eyes went unfocused and darted around, giving him the look of figuring out something momentous on a blackboard only he could see. “Oh. Oh.”

Homura leaned away from him. “What?”

Urahara straightened and stared at the brilliant light in the distance. “Wishes,” he murmured.

Homura looked to Orihime, who was equally at a loss.

Any chance for explanation was ruined by the new whatever-it-was-called firing lances of magic in every direction. The sky over Karakura became dense with shimmering strands like lasers or tracer fire in a pattern like a grand firework. Those at melee distance were shot through before they could even register what was happening. Mid-range combatants had a moment to try to shield, but couldn't react fast enough. Only those who remained in long-range position managed to get barriers up, and they were sorely tested by the onslaught. Many failed completely.

On the rooftop in Naruki City, the three with powers reacted immediately. Kisuke threw a kidō shield in front of them. Orihime's fairies flew out and made a big triangular shield of translucent gold behind it. Akemi braced herself and leaned forward, brandishing her shield, but held back her power for the moment. For an endless minute, all they could hear was the staccato bullet-like sound of the beams ricocheting off Kisuke's shield. Before long, though, the wall of light began to crack. Jagged lines spiderwebbed out from impact sites. Kisuke poured everything he had into the spell and held until it shattered. Orihime stepped forward and threw all of her strength into her shield as Kisuke took a knee, slow to recover due to the sheer number of massively powerful kidō spells he had used in the long battle. Orihime's shield soon became chipped and pockmarked. Sweat poured down the girl's face and her hands shook.

“Hold out as long as you can, Orihime!” Kisuke shouted. The air was so thick with projectiles that Akemi wouldn't be able to flee even if she stopped time. There was just no dodging them. Time, time, they needed time! He glanced at Akemi. “How long?!”

Understanding his intent, Akemi glanced at the sand timer in her shield, gauged her magic, and bit out, “Four minutes!”

Kisuke grit his teeth. He and Orihime were probably going to die protecting the girl.

So be it.

He centered himself and prepared to cast another kidō when Orihime's shield failed. It collapsed before he was ready, though, and Homura stepped in front of him, thrust her shield forward, and flared her brilliant purple reiatsu to protect the two of them. Kisuke stared up at her as Orihime and Tatsuki fell, pierced by the lances. He was torn between being furious at her for risking herself when she was their trump card and surprised that she bothered to protect him.

Of course, the attack stopped then. They looked around and found that the entirety of Karakura and Naruki were linked to the Hōgyoku by rays of shimmering light. To their side, the beams piercing Orihime and Tatsuki burst and bound them as though in harnesses. It made no damn sense until the rays retracted and tore the girls' souls from their bodies, snapped their Chains of Fate, and drew the slack-faced souls skyward.

“What's happening?!” Akemi demanded, the most panicked Kisuke had heard her.

Kisuke staggered to his feet and stared. As far as he could see, human souls were being reeled up from the streets and buildings toward the Hōgyoku and the Incubator that was apparently above it.

“Mister Urahara? Mister Urahara?!”

As the souls were drawn along, they broke down into indistinct orbs of reishi that made Kisuke deliriously think of hitodama. The reiatsu of many shinigami blinked out of existence. Kisuke supposed they had been snared and absorbed, too. The light of the many souls gathered like Walpurgisnacht's remains had. The Hōgyoku flashed bright indigo. The gathered souls rapidly condensed, the light they cast shifting into brighter and brighter gold.

A Hōgyoku.

A Jūreichi.

A hundred thousand souls, give or take.

“I'll be damned,” he said, shaken.

“What?” Akemi demanded as she lowered her shield. “What's happening?!”

“It actually made a King's Key.” Kisuke distantly registered that his voice sounded like dull surprise. He couldn't quite believe the words as they fell out of his mouth.

Homura glanced between him, her shield, and the distant glow that faded a bit and looked more like a shining object than a ball of light. “A King's Key is—?”

“The only way to gain entrance to the Soul King's Realm,” he answered, falling into automated lecture mode. “The Soul King is the linchpin of existence. It regulates the flow and balance of souls among all the dimensions.”

A sound that was not truly sound at all reverberated through the atmosphere, the tumbling of ancient locks turning.

“If the Soul King was to be destroyed, reality would collapse. Were it replaced, its replacement could shape the worlds as it wills.”

Akemi's face contorted in horror.

Kisuke turned to look at her, dread plain on his face. “I think the Incubator is a much bigger problem than any of us ever thought possible,” he said blankly.

Reiatsu flared up in the cloud cover. The huge golden missile that was Soi Fon's bankai screamed toward the King's Key. One of the oversized Incubator limbs shielded it while the other batted the missile away with enough force to counter its homing properties. The resulting explosion obliterated eastern Karakura. The Incubator's limbs settled into an offering position, holding the King's Key to the heavens. Storm clouds were suddenly propelled away from it, forming a perfect circle of blue morning sky with the King's Key in its center like a small sun. The air around it shimmered like a heat haze as a sharp clunk sounded and the city directly beneath was crushed flat under the severe pressure of immense reiatsu.

In the northern sky, an old man watched almost his entire command structure crumble before him. All life in the city was a complete loss and an enemy was trying to breach the King's Realm.

There was nothing left to lose. Best to end things quickly.

Stone-faced, Captain-Commander Yamamoto stood tall and rumbled, “Bankai. Zanka no Tachi.”

Homura sucked a sharp breath in through her teeth at the sudden, intense heat. Steam rose around her as the fallen rain evaporated. She was startled out of her stare when Urahara shook her arm. She looked at his face and found it desperate and near-crazed.

When he had her attention, Urahara pressed, “You must describe all of this to the other me. All of it. Hōgyoku, King's Key, all of it. What it looked like, what it felt like, everything. This isn't just about saving your friends anymore.”

Buildings began to smoke. Trees and telephone poles nearby spontaneously burst into flame. Homura wobbled on her feet and blinked. It only took several moments for her to feel like she had been wandering beneath a desert sun for weeks.

“Go back in time now,” Urahara said urgently.

Homura looked at her shield. “I can't yet!”

Fire raged in the city center, the inferno spreading outward as everything was baked so dry it all became kindling. It hurt to breathe. The air smelled of ashes, burnt rubber, and charred meat.

“Go now!”

Flames blossomed in the sky where a small figure met the Incubator's limbs and incinerated them. The Hōgyoku strobed like the world's largest flash grenade and instantly regenerated the limbs.

“I can't!” Homura shrilled and desperately watched the sand trickle through her timer.

Urahara fell to his knees. “You have to,” he rasped through parched, bleeding lips.

Homura's breath came in painful little gasps as she struggled to remain conscious— a battle Urahara lost. She didn't bother paying attention to the battle in the sky, instead using every ounce of will she had to focus entirely on her shield's sand timer. Her legs fell out from under her as she concentrated her magic on countering the damage being done to her body long enough to survive to the turnback point. To conserve magic, she disengaged what she thought of as her pain buffer and arched into the agony of something that went far beyond any sunburn with a rough scream. Her battle costume had just begun to smoke when she felt the last grain of sand fall. Homura blindly grabbed the edge of her shield, ignored the sizzle of her bare skin against super-heated metal, and sharply twisted it into a complete inversion.

She had never been more glad to hear that familiar click.

The world around her stopped. Everything was utterly still for a long second. The golden shaft and hellish plume in the distance were rendered more terrifying by the extra frozen instant to really look at them. Then reality shattered around Homura like so much glass and she was hurtling backwards, fragmented images spinning around her like a kaleidoscope as she lost consciousness.

Chapter Text

ZWISCHENSPIEL

TIMELINE X+N+54

Kisuke's tea had long since gone cold by the time Homura finished her description of the first timeline in which they had met. Tessai had long since given up on any pretense of standing in the background and joined them at the table with Jinta and Ururu. The four Urahara Shop residents stared dumbly at the girl, who remained cool and poised.

“Holy fuck,” Jinta summarized.

“A threat on the lives of the Kurosaki girls, you said,” Kisuke murmured morbidly.

Homura hummed and traced one finger along the rim of her empty teacup. “I may have understated the severity of the problem to begin with.” She mused that she had spent far too much time with the scientist— she was picking up his habits.

“Just a bit,” Kisuke said drily, one corner of his mouth quirking into a slight smile. “You seem more familiar with us than that one timeline would suggest.” He looked Homura in the eyes. “How many repeats have you done since then?”

“This is the fifty-fourth repeat.”

More dumbstruck staring.

“Why so many?” asked Ururu.

“That's a long story. Much of the detail would be best studied in the documentation I've collected, but I will give a summary,” Homura answered. “Then you can just show the others the video.”

“What video?” Kisuke asked with a straight face.

“You have surveillance on this room that you turn on when something interesting is happening,” Homura said calmly. She looked up at three particular spots in the room— hidden cameras— and twiddled her fingers at them. “You've taped me every single timeline. You may as well make use of it.” She turned to Tessai as Kisuke stared at her in surprise. “May I have more tea, please, Mr. Tsukabishi? Your rooibos blend is excellent.”

FÜNFUNDDREIßIG

TIMELINE X + N + 1

Homura's eyes snapped open and she bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath, still certain, for a moment, that she was being crushed by heat that had a physical weight, suffocating, burning—

White walls. Gauzy curtains. A breeze bearing the scent of cherry blossoms wafting in an open window. Blurry vision. An ache in her chest.

Back in the hospital. Yet another March sixteenth.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, Madoka was alive again, and Homura was having a panic attack.

The world was suddenly a more dangerous and confusing place. Homura was newly aware of even further depths of atrocity in the world of magical girls. Aware, but with very little understanding. Not understanding was a loss of control that frightened her. She was safe for the moment, at least. She hoped. God, what if she wasn't? What if— Shut up, brain, shut up, shut up, shut up!

Homura flopped back on the hospital bed and blindly reached for its controls with the ease of long practice. She lowered the bed flat and tilted her head back to help her body gulp in more air with every gasp. She wanted to curl up but forced her arms to rest on the pillow by her head, elbows out, to keep her chest open. Every breath tested the ache in her chest left over from her heart surgery. When her breathing finally eased, she slowly drew her hands over her eyes and tried to order her thoughts. It was extremely difficult. It felt like her mind was trying to run in every direction at once. The first coherent thought she settled on was It's a good thing I'm off the monitors. A flock of nurses concerned about her racing heartbeat would have been an unwelcome complication.

It took longer than she would have liked to center herself, but she eventually did— just in time to float through her discharge on a cloud of exhaustion. Homura let the clerk from her uncle's lawyer's law firm handle everything without paying attention. Room packed and papers signed, she actually slept on the drive to her townhouse. The clerk got her settled and this time around was concerned enough to offer to stay the night. Homura waved her off after compromising, allowing the woman to get dinner for her. The click of the lock as Homura shut her out was a great relief, but she stood with her hands flat on the door and leaned into it. She inspected the grain of the wood until the sound of the adult's car had receded into the distance.

Homura turned, leaned back against the door, and slid down to the floor. She went through a familiar routine. First, she manifested her Soul Gem. It was dim and cloudy from using so much magic to survive the end of the timeline. Looked like a Witch hunt was in order. Second, she used the Gem's magic to completely heal her heart beyond the scope the surgery could manage. Third, she listlessly removed her glasses and tossed them aside before using her magic on her eyes until they, too, were better than human medicine could achieve. Next, she usually ate and immediately went on a weapons heist to restock. She had far graver things to worry about this time.

A creature of order, Homura dug out a fresh notebook and tried to organize and plan. It helped her feel more in control. She stared at the blank page for a long time, unable to find a place to start. So much had happened. Half an hour passed before she hesitantly put pen to paper. She started by sketching out a rough social structure map about how the Karakura fighters and the shinigami military were related, then started listing major facts.

Karakura was an Incubator-free zone. Most of the time. Probably.

The Incubators were deceptive about far more than she had thought.

Shinigami were real and could be aimed at Witches and Incubators.

The history between magical girls and shinigami was in doubt in her mind because she didn't believe a damn thing the Incubator said anymore.

Shinigami could purify Witches and revert their Grief Seeds into Soul Gems so they could pass on without being collected by the Incubator.

Inoue Orihime could purify Soul Gems without a Grief Seed, revert Grief Seeds into Soul Gems, and revive magical girls. She should probably take pains to keep the Incubator from learning about that.

There was much more to Walpurgisnacht's offense and defense than had ever been apparent before. Why had so much about it changed?

The Incubator was capable of making objects that freaked out shinigami and could break into... heaven??????

There were terrifying implications to a shady creature such as the Incubator gaining access to that... dimension??????????

Urahara had made some kind of mental connection between one of the objects, Soul Gems, and wishes, but hadn't elaborated.

Whatever had countered the Incubator at the end with the fire and heat (who/what????) was frighteningly powerful and not to be crossed.

And so on. She wrote down as many new terms and explanations as she could remember. She finished the list with “Hogoku(sp???)” and “King's Key?????” Even though she had more question marks and unknowns than answers, seeing it all laid out was soothing. It got her mind back into a logical sphere apart from the shocking near-apocalyptic rending of the heavens she had witnessed.

After some thought, Homura concluded that the threat of the Incubator doing whatever it had shown itself capable of was equal to or greater than the danger to Madoka from contracting. Her goal had always, always been to save Madoka no matter what. It looked like she'd have to save... the world? ...in order to save Madoka.

Fine. She'd pull it off or die trying. Madoka was worth it.

Now what?

Homura sat back and stared at the notebook in a pool of light from the nearest lamp in her midnight townhouse, pursing her lips and tapping the pen on the paper. She knew the original plan. And she knew Urahara had said to scratch the plan and go straight to him with warnings of doom. But did she trust him? Entirely, unreservedly?

She thought of his casual interrogation games, of his uncanny ability to read and react to her so quickly.

No. But.

“I won't let him do anything to you and if the questions get too upsetting I'll make him stop.”

“Having Ichigo Kurosaki on your side is the best life insurance policy you could ever acquire!”

“Kurosaki is obnoxiously powerful and bizarrely influential among shinigami.”

“Honestly, the best thing you can do for yourself in any timeline is get Ichigo on your side.”

“The shinigami government—!” “Will hurt you over my dead body.”

She trusted Ichigo Kurosaki. And the rest of the family, but the young man seemed to have the most leverage over everyone she still couldn't rule out as a threat. So. How to proceed? She had Ichigo's phone number, but if she went straight to him and outed everything in a way that would reveal Karin and Yuzu with no warning, the girls might not be cooperative. With as much as she realized she still didn't know, she didn't need to give anyone in Karakura reason to resent her.

That settled it. Go to the twins first, seek Ichigo and Dr. Kurosaki through them, then approach Urahara from behind a fourfold shield of Kurosaki integrity. She'd work out the details in the morning. First things first: Homura needed a Grief Seed to clean her Soul Gem— and offer to Urahara, she supposed. Then she needed to restock her arsenal.

Homura pulled the ribbons out of her childish braids and unwound them as she planned her next hunt and weapons heist.

Homura woke late the next morning, nightmares of burning Soul Gem tornadoes still dancing behind her eyelids. She spent most of the day nibbling leftover takeout while studying the calendars and diaries the others had made for her. Ichigo and his friends were settling into their condo. The Urahara Shop staff was doing Urahara Shop things. Yoruichi was amusing herself by finding cat-haters in Yokohama and being obnoxious to them. Captain Hitsugaya was running his division in Soul Society. Dr. Kurosaki was running the clinic and the girls were starting school.

Good all around. It was a Thursday, though, and Ichigo wouldn't be in Karakura until Saturday. And none of his other friends had returned to Karakura so early. She'd have to do something about that— she needed at least Orihime to be there. And the guy with glasses— Ishida?— had seemed sharp-witted and done something strange with that bow. She wanted to know more about him.

Homura packed, called Mitakihara Middle School to fake-timidly say she would be absent for extra recovery time, and headed to the train station to get lost in the evening southbound commute.

Homura spent Thursday night in an unoccupied apartment on the northwest edge of Naruki City, hopefully far enough from the railway corridor to not be surprised by the Pumpkin Witch and her Familiars. She also hoped the distance between her and Urahara Shop would let her magical signature blend into the masses of other, weaker magic. Reiatsu. Whatever. Whether it would work was in question— even at such distance, the spiritually-inclined people she had met in the previous timeline formed a constellation of brighter signatures throughout the city. Hopefully her presence being unfamiliar to the locals would let her escape attention instead of attract it.

After hemming and hawing over how to initiate a meeting, she decided a direct approach was best. Mid-afternoon found Homura calmly waiting at the gate to the twins' school in her Mitakihara uniform and carrying her book bag to look like she had come directly from a different school. Aside from a few curious glances, she was largely ignored as she monitored her once-friends' magic. The two met and headed for the gate. Seeing their happy faces which she had so recently seen slack in death was a source of both hurt and hope. She took a calming breath.

“Karin, Yuzu,” Homura called pleasantly as they drew near. The girls stopped and looked around. Homura gave them a little wave. “I hope you don't mind me coming early. I really wanted to talk to you.” Karin and Yuzu looked confused until Homura tossed her hair over her shoulder with an exaggerated movement, flashing her Soul Gem ring and pulsing her magic ever so slightly. Homura stared directly into Karin's eyes and smoothly said, “Then I thought I would help you find the thing you lost by the train tracks.”

The sisters stared from her face to her ring. Karin glanced around cautiously. “Uh, yeah. Right. The thing.”

Homura offered a tight smile. “Where would you like to talk?” Let them at least control the setting.

The sisters exchanged significant looks and leaned together to murmur a quick plan. Karin lifted her chin and nodded to one side, then took the lead. Yuzu trailed behind Homura. Both sisters were obviously tense and expecting an attack— their first encounter with a belligerent magical girl had really stuck with them. They led her to a park in Naruki City. Smart— wide open space where neither party would be blocked from fleeing and far away from Urahara Shop. The girls led her to the far end of the park, out of sight of the playground. Homura calmly sat at the decrepit wooden picnic table they found there and smoothed her skirt as the sisters decided their positions. Yuzu perched sideways on the opposite bench and Karin plopped onto the table itself. Also smart— neither wanted obstacles blocking their legs if things went badly and they needed to fight. Homura made a point of crossing her ankles under the table and primly folding her hands together on its top in a bid to look nonthreatening.

The Kurosaki sisters stared at Homura. “So,” Karin finally said. “What brings you to Karakura and how do you know who we are?”

“Did you follow us last time we met Kyubey?” Yuzu asked with an uncharacteristically hard face.

“No,” Homura answered Yuzu first. She glanced back to Karin. “My name is Homura Akemi. I am from Mitakihara.” Both sisters raised their brows. “I am not here to fight you. I came to help you and ask for help. I know my story will sound very far-fetched but there really is a set of major crises approaching.”

“Oh?” Karin drawled as she leaned on one hand. “How far-fetched? It'll take a lot to impress us.”

Homura steadied herself. “It starts with the fact that I have time magic. I can freeze time to fight and even go back in time. This is not the first time I have met you.”

Karin outright laughed incredulously while Yuzu looked skeptical but worried. Homura clenched her fingers together and frowned. Even dozens of repetitions didn't take the sting out of reactions like Karin's.

Karin wiped a mirthful tear from her eye and took in Homura's stony countenance. “Wait, you're serious? I thought you were breaking the ice so whatever's really going on will look reasonable.”

Homura pursed her lips. “No. I am quite serious.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

“I can prove my time-stopping ability to you in a labyrinth. I know you prefer to avoid notice from your family and the shinigami.”

The sisters tensed. Yuzu frowned. “Kyubey could have told you that.”

Homura took a deep breath. “You contracted a year ago to save your brother, Ichigo. Your father and brother are both shinigami. Your brother lost his powers after a shinigami war but regained them after you contracted. Something about a sword.” She looked at Karin, whose eyes were wide. “Tōshirō Hitsugaya is your best friend. He is a shinigami captain.” Homura glanced between the two. “You did not tell— Kyubey any of this because you thought— he would refuse to contract with you due to a history of magical girl conflict with shinigami.” She raised her brows and waited for a response.

Both Kurosaki sisters gaped. Karin's mouth opened and closed but words failed her. Yuzu was pale. Homura decided to let it sink in instead of giving them more information while shocked.

Yuzu was the first to pull herself together. “If you time-traveled to see us, something... something really bad happened, didn't it?” She chewed her lip nervously.

Homura hummed sadly. “Many bad things. I still do not understand them all, though. That is where I need help.” She stared at them evenly. “The explanation of the basics is going to be hard on you, though.”

“You think so, huh?” Karin drawled, unable to completely hide her uneasiness behind casual bravado. “Hit me.”

Deep breath. Their reaction hadn't been disastrous last time, but you never knew. Start delicate. “The— Kyubey has not been entirely honest with you. Is not honest with with the majority of girls it contracts. Not until it is too late.”

The sisters went still. “Too late for what?” Yuzu whispered.

“Too late for you to back out of the contract. It does not explain the consequences of the creation of a Soul Gem.”

Karin and Yuzu exchanged a look. Karin hazarded, “The consequence is that we have to fight Witches.”

Homura bit her lip. “What is a Witch?”

Karin's face twisted in confusion. “You're a magical girl and you don't know that?”

“Let me rephrase,” Homura said with less patience. “Where do Witches come from?”

Dumbfounded silence. “We... we thought they were a kind of Hollow only girls can sense,” said Yuzu. “Um, do you know what Hol—?”

“Yes, you taught me about Hollows in the last timeline,” Homura replied. “And they may very well be a kind of Hollow. No one had the chance to really investigate last time. But Witches are formed from a specific kind of soul.” After a moment of blankness, horror slowly dawned on Karin's face. Homura plowed on. “If our Soul Gems become too corrupted and we start to slip into despair and insanity, our Gems turn completely black and transform into Grief Seeds. Our souls are then reborn as Witches. Then the cycle continues with newly-contracted magical girls who will defeat us and become Witches in turn.”

Fear and horror flooded their magic. Karin was still and silent, eyes wide. Yuzu started to hyperventilate as she thought about it. Tears welled in her eyes. Karin held her hands to her face took a few deep breaths, and scrubbed her hands up and down her face. She stopped with her hands at her jaw, head tilted up to stare sightlessly at the sky.

“I thought that if our Gems got dark it just meant our magic would be weak,” Karin said dully. She looked down and massaged her temples. “It makes sense. It makes so much sense. I should have seen it. He tore our souls out. Our souls. Of course we'd have a fancy kind of Hollowfication. Of course.” Her face went dark and she looked at Homura, eyes hard. “We made a deal with the devil, didn't we?”

“K-kyubey didn't explain any of this!” cried Yuzu.

Homura scowled. “Of course it did not. It only explains enough of the system to lure girls into contracting. It says it has no concept of deceit, yet it constantly lies by omission to achieve its goals.”

“And those goals are...?” Karin asked darkly.

“Harvesting our corrupted souls to collect energy for the greater good, supposedly,” Homura answered quietly. “But the end of the last timeline suggests something... far more sinister. Possibly the creation of a... tool or weapon. I am not sure exactly what it was.”

Yuzu leaned over the table, cradled her face in her hands, and sobbed. Karin seemed to be in too much shock to really react. Homura, reminded of Madoka's usual reaction, hesitantly reached over and brushed her fingers across Yuzu's wrist. Yuzu tearfully looked up at her. Just like Madoka did when—

Homura faltered for a moment, then steeled herself. “Be strong. We will overcome this.” She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

Yuzu sobbed again. “How?!”

Another deep breath. This was bombshell number two. “First, we go to your father and brother and get them on our side. Then we approach Mr. Urahara. Then we approach the shinigami.”

The sisters recoiled. “But Kyubey said shinigami—!” Yuzu gasped.

“Do you really believe anything that creature says anymore?” Homura snapped. Yuzu flinched and wilted. Homura's face softened. “In the last timeline, I had to approach them. They took it well. Except for the fact you were tricked into selling your souls. All their anger was directed at the Incubator, though.”

“Incubator?” Karin said with a furrowed brow.

“Kyubey is just a cutesy name that creature uses to sound harmless,” Homura explained. “It is short for Incubator. In-cue-bay-tor.”

Karin's lip curled in disgust. “That's not creepy or suspicious at all,” she said sarcastically.

Yuzu wiped her tears. “How can they help us?”

Homura settled back once more. “I did not meet any of you until the very end of the last timeline, so they did not have time to do much, but they figured out a great deal with what time they had. They identified several lines of investigation to pursue. And they figured out that Orihime Inoue can purify Soul Gems without using a Grief Seed and can revert Grief Seeds back into Soul Gems. As long as she is on our side, we should not have to worry much about turning.” After considering for a moment, she added, “And if things do go poorly, I can always travel back in time again to undo it.”

Both sisters lit up with hope.

“The shinigami were furious when they found out what the Incubator has been doing right under their noses. Especially your friend, Captain Hitsugaya,” Homura continued with a nod Karin's way. “The end of the timeline was... chaotic. Mr. Urahara figured out something at the end but did not have a chance to explain it to me. He told me to describe everything that happened to him— the him in this timeline. I guess he thought this him would understand what he figured out just from that.” Homura pursed her lips and tapped her fingers on the table as the twins parsed the strangeness of the sentence. “Everyone who found out that I can time-travel wrote letters to themselves to make them believe me. I need your help to gather everyone so we can figure things out and make plans before the situation deteriorates.”

“Deteriorates how?” asked Karin.

“'Karakura-completely-destroyed-and-a-lot-of-shinigami-killed' deteriorates,” Homura answered bluntly.

The sisters went white again. “That... would be bad,” Karin said for lack of anything else.

“What happened?” Yuzu asked.

Homura sighed. “I would rather explain it only once and to everyone at the same time, if you do not mind. It is complicated.”

Karin scratched her head. “I guess I can respect that.” She sighed deeply. “So, what's your game plan?”

“I thought we would somehow convince your brother and his friends to all come here, then tell them and your father the basics before anything else. Mr. Urahara was tricky with his questioning last time and I want your father and brother there to rein him in if necessary. We will have to find ways to contact Captain Hitsugaya and Yoruichi to get them to come to the meeting.”

“Urahara can do that,” Karin said with a dismissive wave.

Homura nodded. “Then, once everyone is briefed and Mr. Urahara has a chance to study the research material his other self gave me, we will hunt the Witch by the train tracks together so they can all experience a labyrinth. Beyond that... I do not know.”

“It's a good start,” Karin declared. She looked to Yuzu. “Ichi-nii will come running if we say we're in trouble. That part should be easy.”

Yuzu nodded, slow-burning anger replacing her distress. “Onii-chan and Daddy won't let anything happen to us. Let's do it.”

Chapter Text

SECHSUNDDREIßIG

TIMELINE X+N+1

Isshin had a long day at the clinic, hands full juggling household burns, flu season's last hurrah, and painstakingly plucking light bulb shards out of a woman's foot. He was glad to finally turn the sign to closed and join his girls in the house. As he approached the kitchen, he noticed a third, unfamiliar reiatsu with his daughters— power on par with Karin's, if not greater. All three signatures felt... tumultuous? Hmm. When he rounded the corner into the kitchen he found a girl he had never seen before peering over Yuzu's shoulder at the stove, paying serious attention to an apparent cooking lesson. Karin was lounging at the table by a stack of closed text books and completed homework. Unusual— the girls usually waited until after dinner to do that.

“Well, hello, girls!” Isshin called with a grin.

The three looked up at him. Yuzu said, “Hi, Daddy!” and Karin said, “Hey, Dad. 'Sup?”

Dad. Not Goat-Face. If that wasn't a sign something was wrong, he didn't know what was. He kept smiling. “Busy day at the clinic. Ah, I'm so glad to see your lovely faces at the end of a long day! Makes all the burns and stitches and snot worth it!” Karin rolled her eyes, but it seemed forced. Yuzu gave a strained giggle. The new girl looked up at him with a melancholy frown and something like regret. Worrisome. “I see you brought home a friend! Hello, I've never met you before,” Isshin said cheerfully. “What's your name?” If he hadn't already been alert for signs of something wrong, he may have missed the brief flash of hurt that crossed her face.

The girl stepped away from the stove, bowed politely, rose, and brushed long dark hair over her shoulder. “I am Homura Akemi. It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Kurosaki,” she said gravely.

“So formal!” Isshin laughed. “Don't worry about that. It's nice to meet you. Make yourself at home.”

Homura's face stayed serious. “Thank you, sir,” she said in a distantly polite tone.

“Daddy, Homura's staying for dinner,” Yuzu declared. Zero room for argument.

“Oh?” Isshin decided to try to argue anyway. See if he could tease out what was going on. He looked at the solemn girl. “Won't your parents miss you?”

“My parents are dead,” Homura said in the tone most people used for disinterested talk about the weather.

Awkward. “Ah, I'm sorry.” The girl shrugged slightly. “You must live with someone who will miss you for dinner, though?”

“No.” Homura tilted her head and watched him keenly. “My uncle is out of the country on business most of the time. I live by myself and usually eat takeout.”

Isshin frowned hard. “That's no way for a girl to live. Someone should be taking care of you. You're too young to be on your own.”

Satisfaction briefly crossed Homura's face before she shrugged again and looked away dispassionately. Strange. Karin squinted at him with her I Am Judging You face. Yuzu glared with the fierce heat of twin lasers. They clearly wanted him to drop that subject and shut up. Ouch.

Isshin sighed. “I'm sorry. Of course you're welcome for dinner.”

Homura murmured something conciliatory and went back to observing Yuzu's skills. Yuzu sniffed that dinner would be ready in ten minutes. Isshin mumbled something and shuffled away to go change out of his work clothes. He nearly felt dismissed from his own home.

Dinner was stilted. The girls tried to make conversation about school subjects, but were obviously on edge. Isshin noticed the small looks directed at him in quick flashes— wariness, dread, and what might have been shame from his daughters; inexplicable sadness and caution from Homura. The longer the meal dragged on, the more raw Isshin's nerves got. When all three girls furtively hurried to busy themselves doing dishes, Isshin just sat and openly stared at them while trying to figure out what was bothering them. His presence? Schoolgirl drama? Something else?

Karin noticed his stare and defensively snapped, “What are you looking at, Dad?” before going back to drying plates with a rough turn.

Dad again instead of Goat-Face. He didn't like it. “Is something wrong, girls?”

Their stillness was as absolute as it was sudden. Three faces turned to him and looked like deer in headlights.

Isshin scowled his concern. “Don't bother trying to deny it. Something has you all nervous. Are any of you in trouble?”

The girls traded cautious glances. Yuzu looked to her father and spoke for them. “We need to talk to you, Daddy.” She and her sister looked grim with shades of the guilt they had shown when they had broken something when they were small. Homura's face had gone unreadable and her reiatsu felt forcibly calm.

What had his girls gotten into? What did this other girl have to do with them?

Isshin rubbed his eyes and sighed. He waved at the table. “Sit down, girls. Let's hear it out.”

They quietly gathered at the table. He couldn't help but notice that all three clustered together on the side of the table opposite him instead of surrounding it like during their meal. Was it intentional or subconscious? Setting themselves in opposition to him? Using the table as defense? They sat and looked at him uncertainly. Everything about their behavior had his alarm bells clanging.

After a minute of staring, Yuzu took a deep breath and began, “We didn't mean for it to get... bad. We thought we were doing something good, but we got tricked.”

Well, that was both vague and parentally terrifying. “Tricked into what, sweetheart?”

“First, we know you're a shinigami, Dad,” said Karin.

Isshin's mind screeched to a halt. “What?”

“So we know you can help with spirit stuff.”

“What?”

Karin rolled her eyes. “We've known for awhile. Get over it.”

“Bwuh— How long?” He thought he had been so thorough about hiding that.

“Since the end of the war, Daddy,” Yuzu answered.

“You know about the war?” he asked, surprised.

“Ichi-nii's an open book, Goat-Face,” Karin drawled.

Isshin pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He should have known.

“Anyway, we kinda got ourselves into a big spiritual mess. Can you ask Ichi-nii to bring his friends home with him?”

Disturbing. “What kind of mess?”

“A really big mess,” Yuzu answered guiltily.

“Define really big.”

His girls shifted uneasily and looked at each other. Neither wanted to really broach it.

Homura clinically explained, “We have all been tricked into selling our souls for access to imperfect shinigami powers to protect the people we care about.” Isshin turned to her in horror. The twins looked down at the table, not wanting to see the face he made. Homura boldly stared straight into his eyes. “The being who tricked us approached us when we were at our most vulnerable. The contract was not presented to us honestly. The terms of the contract were not fully explained. Without intervention, we will eventually... I think the term is Hollowfy. Then the being who tricked us will eat our souls.”

Pasty white, Isshin thought he would throw up. His girls—

“I approached Karin and Yuzu because I gained access to key information about the being's plans and the... abilities of your son and his friends, as well as one Kisuke Urahara and the shinigami of Soul Society,” Homura continued in a way that reminded Isshin of his former Third Seat giving an after action report. “I have reason to believe it would be wisest to explain the basics to you, your son, and his friends before approaching Mr. Urahara and the shinigami in general.”

Isshin furrowed his brow. “Why?”

Homura glanced away uncomfortably then looked him in the eye again. “We have information that makes us think the shinigami government has been... harsh with girls like us in the past. And that Mr. Urahara can get... aggressively curious. Especially in light of certain details.” She pursed her lips and searched his face. “I... I think you and your son will react better. Just in case the others do not react well. You both are strong and I have heard your son is very influential.”

Isshin stared at her, mind whirling. She had openly outlined a desire to use one set of people as a physical and social shield against another. A politically sound strategy. Her neat, logical plan bespoke someone older than she looked. Tōshirō had been the same way, but he actually had been a much older, slow-aging spirit so it made sense. Who was Homura Akemi, really? And how did she know about... well, everything?

He sighed deeply and palmed his face. The girls silently let him think. After a couple minutes of racing thoughts, Isshin straightened and tiredly searched their faces— all three of them. “Why... why would you agree to such a thing?”

Karin bristled. “Ichi-nii was in danger!”

“He almost died, Daddy!” Yuzu cried.

“What?!”

“We were the only ones who could find the things attacking him! Even Urahara couldn't sense one when he was right on top of it!”

“We had to protect Onii-chan like he protected us!” Yuzu finished tearfully.

Sometimes Isshin cursed the selfless protective streak of the combined Shiba and Kurosaki bloodlines. “What are you talking about? Your brother can take care of himself.”

“Now, yeah. But not last year,” Karin said bitterly. “We barely managed to save him without the powers. And that was just getting him away from the danger. The Witch could have hunted him down again if we didn't contract and take care of it.”

“You're talking about witches now?” Isshin asked, lost. “Black cats and broomsticks...?”

“A technical term for beings similar to Hollows,” Homura interrupted. Isshin looked to her. She was disturbingly calm. “The being that tricked us is called the Incubator. When we contract, our access to our powers makes us magical girls.”

“What.” Could this get any more absurd?

“When magical girls deteriorate and... Hollowfy..., they become Witches. Witches exist in a pocket dimension and lure victims with low spiritual power into either entering their labyrinth whole or committing suicide, then devour their souls. As far as I know, only magical girls can detect Witches.”

Isshin stared hard, gears whirling in his head. His eyes shifted to his daughters. “Lures victims with low spiritual power...,” he murmured.

“We contracted a year ago when a Witch snared Onii-chan and tried to make him jump off the cell phone tower by the high school,” Yuzu said quietly.

“A year ago,” Isshin said blankly.

“The time we told Urahara there had been a Hollow and Ichi-nii tried to help fight it, but he forgot because of a concussion and we all passed it off as him being stupid and getting hypoglycemia,” Karin explained. She looked down. “We lied. We had to fight Ichi-nii and knock him out to stop him from climbing and....” Her lip quivered. “We couldn't leave that Witch on the loose.”

Isshin's face dipped down, eyes unfocused as he stretched his memory and went over what he remembered of the alleged Hollow attack. “A year ago,” he echoed dully. “You... you sold your souls a year ago.” And he hadn't noticed. He'd just thought their reiatsu had matured. What kind of father was he if he didn't know the difference? On top of that, if they were to believed, he had nearly lost his son, too. Feeling much older, he turned back to Homura. “Why did you... contract?”

Face mulishly cool, Homura said, “To save my best friend's life.” Matter of fact. Zero regret. A shiver of muted rage in her reiatsu. Hopefully for whatever had endangered her friend or tricked her instead of at him for asking. She sat straighter and lifted her chin imperiously. “I think it would be most efficient if we refrained from further detailed explanation until your son and his friends arrive.” End of subject.

Isshin looked at his daughters. They had both adopted stubborn faces to match Homura's, though theirs were less sure— following her lead. Yuzu chewed her lip and dipped her chin. “Are... are you mad at us, Daddy?”

He was an absolute hurricane of jumbled emotions, but— “No, baby.” Just tired, protective, and angry at the world— and himself. He rubbed his eyes and sighed, then looked up and held out his arms. “Come here, girls.” The sisters rose and hurried to him. The family clung to one another anxiously. “We'll figure this out,” Isshin murmured as Yuzu's shoulders hitched with suppressed sobs. Isshin laid his cheek on Yuzu's head and made comforting hushing sounds. His eyes wandered to Homura, who was watching them expressionlessly.

The girl was functionally alone in the world. She was dealing with this mess alone. Isshin's heart went out to her. He lifted one arm and held it out in invitation, the father in him wanting to help her. Homura's eyes darted from his hand to his face, then looked aside resolutely. She sat still with her hands folded in her lap and looked at the poster of Isshin's late wife, face unreadable.

“Ishida! For the last time, stop moving my stuff!”

“Stop leaving it in stupid places, then, Kurosaki,” the Quincy retorted waspishly.

Chad sighed as he tuned his guitar in the living room. Orihime blithely kept arranging books on shelves.

“They're not stupid places! They make perfect sense!”

“To an idiot, maybe.”

“What?”

Chad strummed a few notes. Still off. Next time he traveled so far, he'd carry the instrument himself. Baggage handlers had no respect for fragile packages.

An ear-grating ringtone shrilled through the condo. “Dammit, what does the old man want now?” Ichigo grumbled as he jogged into the living room and scooped the phone up off the coffee table. “What?”

His father didn't greet him obnoxiously as usual. “Ichigo,” he said solemnly.

Ichigo's face automatically fell. “What's wrong? What happened?” His worried tone caused his three friends to stop what they were doing and look at him sharply.

Isshin sighed. “The danger isn't immediate—”

“Danger?!” Ichigo twitched as Uryū darted up and made hand gestures that implied if Ichigo didn't switch to speaker phone, he'd take the phone and do it himself. Ichigo complied to get the Quincy out of his face.

“Yes,” Isshin said tiredly. “Do you have classes tomorrow?”

“Not if there's trouble,” Ichigo replied immediately. “What's going on, Dad?” His father was silent for a long minute, which instantly told all four teens it was something grave. Isshin generally wasn't one to shut up.

“It's your sisters—”

“What?! Are they hurt?”

“No, no, they— well— they're okay for now, but— it's difficult to explain—”

“Did something attack them?!”

“No— well, depending how you look at it—”

“What happened?!”

“It's complicated, plus I don't have all the information myself yet. They don't want to explain everything in full until you get here. That worries me— what they told me is terrible enough.”

“Cut the vague crap, old man! What did they tell you?!”

A rustling came from the phone, Isshin apparently scrubbing his face tiredly. “Karin and Yuzu were tricked into selling their souls.”

“WHAT?!” Ichigo roared. The phone creaked in his hand. His friends reared back, wide-eyed. “WHO?! WHO TRICKED THEM?!”

“Ichigo—”

“I'LL FUCKING KILL THE BASTARD!”

“Ichigo!” Isshin snapped.

“What?!”

“Calm down. I need you to focus. You won't accomplish anything if you can't stay calm long enough to figure out who we're going to be destroying.” There was murder in his quiet growl.

Ichigo gestured frustration with the phone, put it on the table, and collapsed onto the couch with his head in his hands. “How did this happen?” he asked brokenly. “How could we— how could we not—? They're supposed to be safe now.”

“I know, son,” Isshin sighed. “What's done is done. We need to move forward.”

Ichigo took a shaky breath as Chad lay a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Right. Right.” After a silent minute to gather himself, he looked up at the phone. “What now?”

“Now we get the girls to tell us their story,” Isshin answered grimly. “There is an odd thing. They brought home a girl their age I've never seen or heard of before who also got tricked. She said she approached the girls because she heard about you and your friends, your abilities and influence. She wants us on her side in case Kisuke gets carried away with his curiosity or the Thirteen Divisions react poorly.”

“My influence?” Ichigo asked, confused. “What influence?”

Uryū sighed deeply. “Kurosaki's ignorance aside—”

“What?”

“—How would a random girl your daughters' age know about social politics in Seireitei?”

“That's what I want to know,” Isshin answered. “Have any of you heard of her? Her name is Homura Akemi.”

Ichigo's friends made thoughtful sounds. Ichigo stared flatly at the phone. “You know me and names, old man.”

“Girl with long dark hair and violet eyes. Very well-controlled reiatsu that feels like... actually, it's difficult to describe. Makes me think of night, though. And kind of... spinny? The way she speaks makes her sound older than she looks. Very serious.”

“Nope,” Ichigo answered immediately. He looked at his friends. “You guys?” They murmured negatives.

Isshin sighed. “I had hoped there was a simple explanation. We'll have to tease it out of her, I guess.”

“If there's someone besides Karin and Yuzu who got tricked, does that mean there are more out there?” Orihime asked worriedly.

“I don't know. There's a lot I don't know. Just... come home tomorrow so we can figure this out.”

Ichigo stood, determined. “We'll come right now.”

“There aren't any trains until tomorrow,” Chad murmured.

Ichigo's face fell, then he squinted suspiciously at the phone. “You called this late on purpose.”

“Yep,” his father replied. “I want the girls to sleep so they can't try to get out of questions by saying they're sleepy. They won't sleep if you and your reiatsu are here.”

“What?”

“Kurosaki, your reiatsu is so angry the neighbors are probably waking up feeling like something's going to jump out at them in the dark,” Uryū explained drily. “There's no way your sisters will sleep if they sense that.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose. “It wouldn't be a problem if you had even a modicum of control.”

Chad frowned disapprovingly at Uryū as Ichigo sputtered.

“So I'll see you tomorrow?” Isshin asked.

Ichigo growled. “Yeah, we'll take the first train in the morning.” After he ended the call, Ichigo just sat with his head in his hands.

Orihime carefully sat next to him and wrung her hands. “We'll all help, Ichigo. We'll help them.”

Ichigo looked up at his friends, whose faces were grim but earnest. “Yeah,” he said. He scrubbed his face and drew a deep breath. “Yeah.”

Chapter Text

SIEBENUNDDREIßIG

TIMELINE X+N+1

Isshin was up long before the girls. He hadn't exactly slept much, mind whirling as he forcibly restrained his instinct to call Kisuke immediately. Part of him wondered if the scientist actually had noticed something off and just not told him. Kisuke played his cards close to the vest so it was a distinct possibility. He didn't know how he felt about that, so he tried to ignore it. Instead, he raked through his memories of the past year for signs of strangeness in his girls. It frightened him that he couldn't think of anything beyond what he had assumed was maturation of their powers and increased speed of defeating Hollows.

Isshin was haggardly staring into a mug of cold coffee when his son barreled into the house as though expecting a battle. His friends were more subdued as they followed him.

Ichigo met his father's eyes and demanded, “Where are they?”

Isshin blinked slowly. “Up in their room.” When his son moved to charge up the stairs, he firmly ordered him to stop. “Sit down. We need to plan how to handle getting them to tell us as much as possible. If you let them see how angry you are, they'll think you're angry at them and clam up.”

“I am angry at them,” Ichigo snarled. “They should've known better!”

“Like you knew better than to agree to let the first shinigami you met stab you in the heart in hope of getting the power to save your family?” Isshin said lowly.

Ichigo flinched, taken off guard. “Th-that was different!”

Isshin rubbed his eyes. “It may not be, from what little they told me.” He gestured for everyone to sit.

Ichigo's face fell into confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Just... please sit down, son,” his father said tiredly.

Homura bolted upright in her futon and looked around wildly.

The sun was dawning, the birds were chirping, Madoka was alive again, and somewhere nearby, Ichigo Kurosaki was furious.

Karin and Yuzu exchanged panicked glances, instantly awake. “We're so dead,” Karin said dully.

Yuzu wrung her blankets in her fists. “W-what do we do?”

Homura just looked at Karin with wide eyes. While the darkness and violence she had sensed in Ichigo during the final battle was absent and his magic wasn't as heavy, the anger in the burning moonlight was more intimidating than a lot of Witches she had faced. Conscious rage almost always wielded a sharper blade than the mindless lashing-out of Witches.

Karin grimaced. “I guess we get dressed and go meet the firing squad,” she said reluctantly. “If we avoid him, he'll only get angrier.”

Ichigo's magic began to decline into horror as they heard the distant murmur of their father's voice. Karin and Yuzu winced. “I wonder what Daddy is telling him,” Yuzu said nervously.

Within Ichigo's Inner World, Zangetsu and the Hollow stood stark black and white against the gray of the stormy sky and its reflection on the solid part of the sideways building that represented Ichigo's memories of the time when the spirits had been sleeping. The Hollow sprawled down on the surface and carefully slid over to peek within the cracking glass of the sixteenth story, the only place in their shinigami's soul the spirits had been unable to access. The Hollow went still, then sat up and looked at Zangetsu, enraged.

“I'm gonna fuck someone up over this,” he snarled.

Zangetsu hummed agreement, their intertwined nature allowing him to see what was within as well. “Revenge later. Ichigo comes first,” he said coldly.

“Tch. You think I'm stupid or somethin'?” the Hollow growled resentfully as he stood and slung rain-soaked hair from his brow. He whipped his copy of Ichigo's blade off his back and released its bandages with a whirl of cloth. “The things I do for King,” he sneered halfheartedly as the cloth extended at his will and sped off to wrap around the compromised level of the building. When the building was bandaged, the Hollow heaved the blade over his shoulder. “Hmph. Knew there couldn't be anythin' good in there.”

Both spirits looked up as the rain poured even harder. Zangetsu sighed.

“Fuckin' rain,” the Hollow grumbled. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted skyward, “Calm the fuck down, King! Sad's not gonna do nothin' but piss me off! Get angry again! Angry's great! I can work with angry!”

Shut up, Ichigo's morose voice echoed around them.

“I'm tryin' to help, dumbass!”

Just... just shut up.

“Fuck you!” the Hollow sneered as he made rude gestures at the sky.

Zangetsu closed his eyes and prayed for patience.

Karin, Yuzu, and Homura trod down the stairs with leaden steps. They cautiously rounded the wall into the kitchen. Everyone looked up at them. Ichigo's friends were pale. Ichigo himself looked devastated. They all stared at each other for a long minute.

Ichigo's mouth opened and closed a few times before he was able to speak, voice choked. “This... you did this because of me?”

Karin's face went troubled. “Ichi-nii, it's not—”

“It's not your fault, Onii-chan,” Yuzu finished in distress.

“I... I remember a little bit, now,” he said haltingly. “A fence... my jacket....” He swallowed hard and roughly continued, “Punching you in the face, Karin— I'm so sorry—”

Karin scowled. “You weren't yourself, Ichi-nii.”

“The Witch told you to do that,” Yuzu added.

Ichigo made a sound of frustration. “I should've been able to fight off... whatever it was—”

“You couldn't without your powers, Ichi-nii,” Karin said matter-of-factly. “And it's not your fault you lost your powers. You thought we were worth risking yourself when we were attacked. We thought you were worth risking ourselves when you were attacked. Yeah, we screwed up by not going straight to Urahara. But you pretty much did the same damn thing.”

“I'm the one who's supposed to protect you,” their brother protested.

“But is that a realistic thing to expect of yourself?” Homura asked hesitantly, drawing everyone's attention as she spoke for the first time. She looked a bit surprised at her own words.

Ichigo blinked and startled. “What?”

“Is it realistic to expect yourself to always be able to protect your sisters from everything?” she repeated slowly, as though considering the words herself. Ichigo's mouth turned down into a troubled frown. Homura tilted her head and stared at him with piercing eyes in an expressionless face. “If I understand correctly, it was necessary for you to sacrifice your powers. It is only logical that others should want to protect you when you gave so much to protect them.”

Ichigo's face looked uncertain. “But—”

Uryū pushed his glasses up his nose. “Kurosaki, you ran off and took on an entire military organization to protect Kuchiki because she gave you the means to protect your family. You have no room to complain. Let it go and deal with the now.”

Ichigo's mouth clicked shut. He blinked several times, then covered his face and heaved a deep sigh. “Right. Right.”

Yuzu shifted worriedly. “Are... are you still mad, Onii-chan?”

Ichigo looked up. “No,” he said, subdued. He sat straight and stared at them seriously. “Thank... thank you for saving me.”

Yuzu's lip trembled. She hurried to her brother and hugged him. He hugged her fiercely in return. Karin followed after a moment, more timid than usual.

Isshin watched his children cling to each other. It tugged at his heart. His eyes wandered over to Homura, who was watching them with a blank face. She noticed his gaze and solemnly stared back, eyes distant. When he frowned worriedly, she looked away.

Homura regally avoided looking at anybody during their awkward breakfast of simple oatmeal and raisins. The Kurosaki girls tried to delay the inevitable by moving to clear the table, but Sado headed them off and stared at them until they sat down, then collected the dishes himself. The sisters sat on either side of Homura, their fidgeting contrasting sharply with her prim aloofness.

“All right,” Isshin began after a tense silence. “I didn't tell your brother much. And you didn't tell me much. Start at the beginning.”

Ishida opened the voice recorder on his phone and slid it across the table. Yuzu took a deep breath. “It started on the field trip to the botanical gardens last year. Karin's friend was acting strange, so we followed him. He hit Karin when she tried to stop him. We noticed there was a funny symbol on his neck. When Karin touched it, he hit her again.”

“The thing felt like a Hollow version of this binding kidō Tōshirō once used on me,” Karin explained.

“Why the hell did he bind you?” Ichigo asked with a scowl.

Karin rolled her eyes. “Because he's a stick in the mud who didn't want to play soccer anymore because of a little lightning.” Her brother slowly palmed his face. Karin shrugged. “Anyway, I broke the binding and then we got sucked into this other dimension where everything was crazy. I mean green sky, flowers the size of trees, fairies with frog heads, walking telescopes, whatever. There was a voice in our heads that said it wouldn't let us leave, so we went looking for it. That's when we got attacked by the fire-breathing hummingbirds with snapdragon heads.”

Everyone stared. Ishida frowned skeptically. “Are you sure you weren't hallucinating?”

Karin rolled her eyes again. “Yes. God, just listen to the story.”

“We were starting to lose when an older girl showed up,” Yuzu continued. “She was wearing a cute dress and saved us from the... creatures.”

“Totally demolished them,” Karin added.

“There was a little white animal with her. He... it... explained that Yuki was a magical girl and we could be magical girls too, if we wanted.”

Eyebrows went up around the table. Ishida's doubt intensified. “Magical girls?”

Homura narrowed her eyes at him. He had seemed so... not this annoying last time.

“Yes. Magical girls. Let us finish,” Karin grumbled.

Yuzu glanced at her sister, then around the table. “It said that it could grant wishes, and that in exchange we had to use our powers to fight these... Hollow-like creatures called Witches it said shinigami couldn't sense.”

“Wishes and witches, now,” Ishida said drily. Ichigo glared at him and Homura felt her mouth turning down into a scowl despite her effort to remain neutral.

“We said we wanted to think about it,” Karin said. “So we met with him— it— a couple weeks later to ask questions. It said that magical girls use weapons that are copies of zanpakutō, and that shinigami didn't like that and killed them. So it said to never let a shinigami know about magical girls. It made its point by saying it saw the Quincy genocide firsthand because it contracted some Quincy girls.”

“Quincy magical girls. Right,” Ishida said sarcastically.

Ichigo turned on him. “Are you calling my sisters liars, Ishida?!”

Ishida pushed his glasses up his nose and narrowed his eyes at Ichigo. “The Quincy would have noticed.”

“You and your goddamn all-knowing Quincies,” Ichigo snarled.

“You're part-Quincy, too,” Ishida snapped.

“I don't claim to know everything spiritual, you ass! And I wasn't raised Quincy!”

“Maybe you'd think more critically about your sisters claiming to be anime magical girls if your mother had taught you—”

Rage flooded Ichigo's reiatsu. “Are you really bringing my mother into this, Ishida?!”

Everyone jumped at the sound of hands slamming onto the table as a chair screeched on the tile. They looked at its source: Homura, standing with indignant fury. “Stop being so childish! You're wasting time!” she shouted. Her face twisted in distressed disappointment in the moment before she declared, “Magical girls are real!”

Violet light flashed over her body, materializing her costume with a high flare of magic. She realized her mistake when Ishida drew his glowing bow on her by reflex, perceiving her action as an attack. Homura froze time, huffed at the inconvenience— and her own impulsive loss of temper— and strode around the table. After examining his magic bow and considering things previous Madokas had gushed to her about angles and aim and reaction time she had figured out while practicing with her rose branch bow, Homura stepped into Ishida's blind spot and dropped the stop.

“Put that down,” she scolded from behind him.

Ishida reeled and loosed his arrow before he had finished turning—

Homura stopped time again. She eyed the arrow; it was similar to one of Madoka's, yet very different. She was tempted to snatch it out of the air to examine it with her own magic. It probably wouldn't be wise to display that she could do that, though. At least with what she was doing, it would seem like teleportation to everyone. For now.

Also, the arrow was on a trajectory closer to hitting her than she had expected. Did he have more experience with a bow than Madoka? Hmmm. Probably. Something to think about.

Homura went back to her original spot at the table. She was probably being petty, but she wanted Ishida to take her seriously. If it took a display of power making him twist around like a fool, so be it.

Time resumed.

“Ishida!” Ichigo shouted.

“Stop that,” Homura snapped condescendingly as Karin and Yuzu flashed with red and yellow magic in front of her.

“Stop this!” Yuzu cried tearfully.

Karin, her clothes replaced by her red and cream costume, scaled the table and tackled a stunned Ishida from the front as her brother slammed into him from the side. Yuzu, wearing her frilly yellow and white costume, threw her hands forward as she backed toward Homura and cast a shield of three interlocked yellow circles. Ishida struggled, tangled in the limbs of the other two siblings.

Homura stared in surprise. She hadn't expected those three to jump to her defense like that. They had just met.

“STAND DOWN!” Isshin roared as he stood so forcefully his chair clattered away behind him. Everyone froze and looked at him with wide eyes. No one moved. Isshin glared authoritatively at them all. “Everyone, back in your seats,” he ordered. They just stared. He narrowed his eyes and leaned on the table menacingly. “Now.”

Karin had said he used to be a captain in the shinigami military; this was the first Homura could really see it being true. Everyone scrambled back to their seats like scolded puppies. They silently fidgeted under Isshin's heavy gaze, the three magical girls watching his reaction to their transformation warily. Homura, mouth set in a stubborn line, suspiciously slid her eyes Ishida's way every few seconds.

“Now,” Isshin said more calmly, though still standing above them. He waved at the costumed girls. “Are we all satisfied that, at the very least, magical girls are real?” His eyes bored into Ishida's. The older teens all nodded hurriedly. Isshin crossed his arms and scanned the faces at the table. He righted his chair then sat with a nod and gestured at the magical girls. “Please continue, girls. There won't be any more... problems.”

Karin and Yuzu hesitantly resumed their tale, relating the basics of the magical girl system and the honeyed words the Incubator had said to convince them to contract. It took some prodding to get them to describe the incident with the Witch that had ensnared their brother. The people hearing the full story for the first time sat through it in rigid, horrified silence. Sado lay a hand on Ichigo's shoulder to ground him when his breaths got shallow and he looked like he would be ill.

“That was awfully convenient,” Ishida said quietly when the girls stopped talking.

“The hell you talking about, Ishida?” Ichigo asked sickly.

Ishida glanced at him. “I mean your sisters were undecided and it just so happened that their brother was the first Karakura attack they were aware of. It got very personal very quickly. Conveniently quickly for this... Incubator.”

Orihime bit a nail. “You think Ichigo was targeted on purpose?”

“It would not surprise me,” Homura answered, speaking for the first time since her outburst.

Karin frowned. “I don't think we told it anything about Ichi-nii.”

Homura hummed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “The specific target may be a coincidence if it really does avoid Karakura, but herding a very strong Witch to the area is something I can see it do. It is extremely manipulative, especially when it comes to convincing powerful girls to contract.”

Isshin rested his elbows on the table and knit his fingers together. “Tell me more about this contract.”

So Homura coolly laid out the overt terms, unsaid terms, and unexplained implications of every facet of the contract as her audience listened with growing dread. “Of course, the vast majority of contractees either never learn any of this or learn of it too late to be useful. These secrets are closely guarded for all the Incubator claims to have no concept of deceit.”

“How did you find out, then?” Orihime asked innocently.

Homura pursed her lips. “It is complicated.”

“How do you even figure into all of this in the first place?” Ishida asked. “How did you three meet?”

“That is also complicated.”

“You're not very helpful.”

Homura scowled at the Quincy. “I'm a veteran. I've learned from experience. I've met other magical girls. I've seen them die. Seen them turn. Karin and Yuzu must be very good or very lucky to have survived a year without doing either. They—”

“Please don't redirect attention away from you, Homura,” Isshin said mildly. Homura twitched and darted her gaze his way. He watched her closely. “They're very relevant questions.” She blinked and just kept staring at him with slight surprise. Isshin tilted his head, considering. Karin and Yuzu fidgeted.

“She's right,” Karin blurted. When everyone looked at her, she stubbornly continued, “It's complicated. She's convinced us of the problems and how she knows them. But she knows some other stuff that might make the shinigami flip out even more than the contract. We only know a bit of it, but....” She shrugged uncomfortably.

“We all thought you should know before the shinigami do,” Yuzu added quietly. “So that if they... um....”

“Go full Spanish Inquisition on us,” Karin supplied in an edgy tone.

“R-right,” Yuzu stammered. “So you can keep them from doing... that. We want to help. We'll answer questions about the stuff and help without any of... that.”

“What kind of stuff?” Isshin asked, brows knit in concern.

Homura stared at him coldly for a minute, glanced around the table, then focused on Isshin again since he had taken the lead. “Regarding the possible goals the Incubator has for collecting our souls this way in the first place.” A silent moment passed as she waited for them to react, but they all just watched her expectantly. “My information regarding the intersection of the magical girl system and the shinigami system is... fragmented,” she conceded. “I only recently learned of the shinigami myself. I need to relay vital information to Kisuke Urahara so he can investigate further. Just the vague outline I know is frightening enough.”

“And that is?” prompted Isshin.

“The Incubator claims to be harnessing the spiritual energy generated by our souls in defiance of the law of conservation of energy to delay the heat death of the universe by countering entropy on a cosmic scale.”

Everyone stared blankly.

“However, I now have my doubts about that. I have acquired information that it is actually preparing some kind of... tools or weapons. I'm unclear exactly what their purpose is.” Homura steeled herself. “I was told to mention the words... ah, Hogoku? ...and King's Key.”

Sharp inhalations sounded out around the table from everyone who had been involved in that shinigami war.

“Hōgyoku?” Orihime whispered for confirmation. Homura nodded at her.

“Who said that? Who told you to say that?” Isshin asked in a hoarse whisper.

Homura looked down. “It is... complicated.”

“Is there anything about this that isn't?” Ishida said in a weakly sarcastic undertone.

“No,” Homura answered bluntly, taking his words at face value. She tilted her head down and surveyed their faces from behind the curtain of her bangs. She didn't like to admit not knowing something, but better to ask them than someone as tricky with words as Urahara. “What is a Hōgyoku?”

Isshin massaged his brow. “As Kisuke explains it, it's an item made by collecting pieces of many souls and fusing them together. It looks like a round jewel. It has the power to realize the deepest desires in people's hearts and grant extraordinary power to those who master it.”

Homura frowned deeply and thought of the realization on Urahara's face as he murmured wishes when she had said the process looked like Soul Gem creation at the end of the timeline.

Disturbing.

That was something to dwell on later, though. “So, you see why we came to you first?”

“Yes,” Isshin sighed. “Second and Twelfth would be.... Getting us to understand first then take it to Kisuke was smart.” He looked at her sharply. “How did you know what order to do this in to get the best outcome? This implies you know a lot about our relationships.”

Homura frowned mulishly. “It is—”

“Complicated?” Isshin said drily.

Homura nodded once. “I will explain, but I think it would be most efficient to do so in the presence of Kisuke Urahara.”

“And his crew,” added Karin. “And we need to get Tōshirō and Yoruichi to come.”

Ichigo frowned. “Okay, Yoruichi I kinda get, but why Tōshirō?”

Karin looked shifty. “Because. Reasons.”

Yuzu tried to laugh and weakly said, “It's complicated.”

Isshin rubbed his eyes and sighed again. “Okay. I'll call Kisuke.” He looked up at Homura. “You realize you're asking for a decent chunk of trust while stonewalling us, don't you?”

“I am aware,” Homura replied with a dignified lift of her chin. “I very much appreciate it.”

“Right,” Isshin said wryly. “Well, I'll call Kisuke. You kids do whatever. Stay home from school, girls. I'll call you when he gives me word that he's managed to round everyone up.”

Chapter Text

ACHTUNDDREIßIG

TIMELINE X+N+1

Tōshirō Hitsugaya was in a foul mood. His lieutenant had procrastinated on multiple reports he needed for his monthly expense report. Goading her through them had shot his nerves even before he had to rush through the compilation and submit it to First Division at the last possible moment. Now Matsumoto was slumped on the office coffee table over a magazine, whining about the cold from the windows Tōshirō had deliberately opened to annoy her while he went through incident reports.

The woman's unhealthy habit of gleefully pushing people's buttons was going to bite her one day.

The curtains suddenly swished. A black cat appeared on Tōshirō's desk. He was nearly startled out of his chair. “Dammit, Shihoin!” he sputtered.

Matsumoto swerved upright delightedly. “Kitty!” She waved when Yoruichi glanced over her shoulder. “Hi, Yoruichi! Wanna go out for drinks?”

“Maybe some other time, Ran,” the cat drawled. “I'm here on business.”

“Oh?” Matsumoto cooed.

Yoruichi turned back to the captain. “I need to speak with you in private, Captain Hitsugaya. I have sensitive information for you.”

Tōshirō raised a brow at her seriousness. He glanced at Matsumoto. “You are dismissed, Lieutenant.”

Matsumoto pouted dramatically, though her eyes were sharply concerned. “But—”

“Matsumoto. Out,” he snapped.

The two shinigami silently listened to Matsumoto's footsteps fade away with distance, then looked at each other.

“You need to come to Urahara Shop as soon as possible,” Yoruichi began.

“Why?”

“The Kurosaki girls have gotten caught up in some kind of spiritual mess. They've told their family and Ichigo's friends part of it, but they're all stonewalling Kisuke on what the problem actually is until you and I get there.”

Tōshirō frowned, concerned for the girls. “Why me, though?”

The cat dipped her head and looked up at him with heavy eyelids. “According to Kisuke, they think you are the Thirteen Divisions officer who will react the most sensibly.”

Meaning the girls had entangled themselves in something that could piss off a lot of the older command structure into overreacting and they wanted their friend to be their inside advocate. Joy.

Tōshirō pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Give me about an hour to wrap up my work so no one comes looking for me.”

“See you in an hour, Captain,” Yoruichi drawled. She was gone with a whisper of the curtains.

Tōshirō stared at his paperwork and sighed.

Homura focused on her teacup as everyone endured the tense silence while they waited for Captain Hitsugaya to arrive. Her heart was fluttering, adrenaline singing through her veins as she considered the many ways the meeting could go wrong and tried to ignore Kisuke Urahara's curious looks. The Kurosaki family had arrayed themselves around her defensively, one sister on either side of her and their brother and father serving as human bookends beyond them.

Everyone looked up as they sensed the atmosphere shift outside. All but Homura recognized the feeling. To Homura, it felt like a much neater, brighter version of the gateways the girls had called Garganta. Then the power dimmed and left only Captain Hitsugaya's chilly magic.

“Oh, great, he's already annoyed,” Karin said morbidly. “This will go well.”

The young man was already frowning when he entered the room and swept his eyes around the table. He raised a brow at Isshin's presence— Homura remembered that he was in on the Kurosaki sibling plan to pretend the girls didn't know their father's heritage. The captain glanced back to Karin and stared flatly. “What did you get yourself into this time?”

Karin looked down and to the side, face red, and didn't reply. Lack of loud objection to his tone seemed to worry him.

“Please take a seat, Captain Hitsugaya, and we will begin.” Urahara waved at the table, which was quite surrounded as Homura had insisted everyone from the shop should be present. She had stubbornly refused to explain why when asked.

Homura allowed Isshin to describe the basics so she could focus on watching the reactions of the listeners. She noticed that Urahara took notes studiously while Yoruichi's gold cat eyes rarely looked away from her. Homura stared right back.

“All right,” Urahara said when Isshin was done. “I know you girls described the specifics in detail earlier, but I'd appreciate hearing it from you instead of secondhand.”

Karin drew breath to speak but Homura cut her off. “Ishida took a voice recording. It will probably be easiest to listen to that and ask questions afterward. To make sure we do not leave anything out by accident.”

Urahara peered at Homura as though considering a puzzle. She suppressed her discomfort and raised a brow at him in challenge. He finally tilted his chin in assent. Ishida set up the phone. Urahara took notes as everyone looked more and more disturbed. Yoruichi still watched Homura while the girl kept assessing reactions.

When the recording was over, Homura calmly asked if anyone had questions. Urahara, face gone from curious to grim at the mention of the artifact he had spent decades trying to destroy, answered, “Not at the moment. I want to hear the rest of this... complicated story.”

Homura tented her fingertips over the table thoughtfully. “I think my explanation will be taken more seriously if I first transform and demonstrate my main magical ability.”

Urahara perked up in interest. “I want to see you transform anyway. Please feel free to do so.”

Homura nodded and moved with deliberate slowness, not wanting to be perceived as a threat again. She held out her left hand and made her Soul Gem manifest above her ring with a thought. After a pause for everyone to get a good look at it, she triggered her transformation with a burst of purple light.

“Holy shit, you weren't kidding,” Jinta blurted.

Homura glanced at him sideways. “Of course not,” she sniffed. She looked to the rest of her audience. “To best demonstrate my ability, I need us to be a human chain. You can only see it if you are touching me or something else that is touching me.”

Several people looked suspicious, but Yuzu immediately clasped Homura's outstretched right hand, grabbed Isshin's hand on her other side, and glared around the table until everyone was complying— even Yoruichi, who perched on Tessai's broad shoulders. Homura raised her shield and triggered its magic with a thought. Three circles on its surface irised open to show glass-covered cavities, two small ones holding different volumes of bright violet sand, the large central circle containing clockwork. After a click and a whir of gears, the colors of the world around them faded away and the birdsong from outdoors fell silent.

After a pause, Jinta sarcastically asked, “So, what, you suck the color out of everything? That's reeeal useful.”

Homura glared at him and turned to Karin, the only person with a free hand. “Pick up your teacup. Hold it up high.” Karin dubiously complied. “Now drop it.”

Eyebrows raised around the table. “It'll spill,” Karin objected.

“Do not worry about that,” Homura said with a dismissive wave of her shield hand. “Just drop it.”

“If you say so,” Karin said.

Karin dropped the cup. It fell about six centimeters before its color faded and it stopped in midair. Everyone stared.

“What,” Hitsugaya said flatly.

“Put your hand under it and raise it until you are holding it again,” Homura instructed.

Karin glanced at Homura and did so. The cup settled in her palm and regained its color. “What.”

“Lift it again,” Homura ordered. When Karin had done so, she continued, “Now pour it out quickly.”

Karin squinted at her suspiciously but did so. The small amount of tea left in the cup streamed from its rim. When free of the cup, the liquid froze in place. Most of the audience looked dumbfounded. Urahara and Mr. Tsukabishi looked fascinated.

“How would you classify this ability?” Urahara asked.

“I can stop time,” Homura replied. She reached up and took the teacup from Karin's numb fingers and positioned it beneath the stream of tea.

“How interesting,” Urahara said with delight.

“I suppose,” Homura said distantly as she lifted the cup until it made contact with the blob of tea, which immediately reanimated and fell into the cup with a slosh.

“That's how you got behind me earlier, isn't it?” Ishida asked with astonishment. “I didn't sense you move, but you did....”

Homura hummed and nodded. Urahara looked intrigued and asked, “Now, what does this have to do with your explanation?”

Homura straightened and pushed her hair behind one ear as she waved at everyone to drop their hands. “I have a related ability that I cannot demonstrate.”

“If she says time travel, I swear to God...,” Jinta grumbled.

Homura directed a deadpan stare at Jinta.

“No fucking way.”

Mr. Tsukabishi narrowed his eyes at him. “Language.” Jinta huffed and looked away.

“Miss Akemi?” Urahara prompted.

“Many of the questions I am certain you have about me and what I know can be explained by way of my time travel,” Homura explained. “This is the second time I have met all of you. I insisted upon the presence of everyone here because you were the people directly involved in the events that transpired who also knew I could time travel.” She ignored various sputtered questions. “Your future selves gave me evidence and letters to inform you of what happened and corroborate my story.” Homura looked up at Urahara. “You gave me a compilation of the research you were able to perform in the week I knew you.”

Orihime clapped her hands excitedly. “What is the future like? Are there flying cars?”

Homura frowned at her in disapproval, but noticed the older girl's face still looked tense. Trying to lighten the mood? “I only came from six weeks from now.”

“Oh,” Orihime said disappointedly.

“What is the future like, though, Miss Akemi?” Urahara asked genially, though his eyes were hard. “Surely there was a reason for you to return to this point in your past.”

Jinta looked from face to face in disbelief. “Wait, we're believing her? Just like that?”

“Of course not,” Urahara said cheerfully. “But I am willing to give her the benefit of the doubt— for now.”

Everyone watched Homura expectantly but she just frowned down at her tea.

“You said something about a Hōgyoku and a King's Key,” Isshin prompted. “Is the Incubator trying to make one?”

Homura lifted her face and pursed her lips. “I saw them.”

“This Incubator?” asked Hitsugaya.

“That, too,” Homura answered. “But I am talking about the Hōgyoku and King's Key.”

Silence.

“What do you mean, you saw them?” Urahara asked quietly.

“I saw the Incubator combine hundreds of Soul Gems to make something the other you said was a Hōgyoku. Then it used that to steal the souls of everyone around Karakura to make something that shone gold. The other you called it a King's Key.” She examined the pale faces around the table. “By the time I left, I think the only survivors were myself, the other Mr. Urahara, the Incubator, and the shinigami with the—” she bit back terrifying because she didn't want to show fear— “formidable fire magic. Everyone else was killed or absorbed.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “The other Mr. Urahara may have died right before I came back. I was catching fire so it is a bit of a blur.”

“You were catching fire,” Isshin echoed numbly.

“Everything was,” Homura said with a nonchalant shrug.

“Why aren't you burned, then?” Jinta asked skeptically.

“My time travel is... mental, I suppose,” Homura explained. “I always wake up in bed on March sixteenth.”

“So, like loading a game from a save point after you screw up?” Karin asked.

“I suppose,” Homura answered. It was an accurate analogy, but not one she particularly liked.

“What you mean by 'always'?” Sado asked quietly.

Homura frowned sourly. “This may be the second timeline in which I have met all of you, but it is not the second timeline overall. I have repeated the same six weeks dozens of times trying to get everything right.” Homura sat straighter and regally glanced around the table. “Your other selves assured me of your cooperation. I would like to proceed as quickly as possible.”

Everyone sat in silence for a couple long minutes as Homura sipped her tea in a forced bluff of calm. “Right,” Urahara said slowly. “I think our next step should be to consider this evidence you brought back with you.” He tilted his head. “I am curious how you brought anything back with you if your time travel is mental, though.”

Homura hummed. “My other ability is to store items in my shield.” She raised her arm to show the shield. “The items within come back with my magic— except for Grief Seeds. They disappear. I did acquire one the other night, though.” She reached into the shield and pulled out a Grief Seed, then leaned forward to set it on the table. Urahara reached over and gingerly picked it up to look at it curiously. Homura was quiet for a minute while everyone watched Urahara, then asked, “Would you like me to distribute the evidence?”

Urahara looked at her seriously. “Please do.”

So Homura started retrieving items from her shield— envelopes, notebooks, small boxes, even a couple scrolls that went to Yoruichi and Mr. Tsukabishi. When she was done, she sat back and watched everyone scrutinizing their time capsules from the future.

“Where are ours?” Karin asked.

Homura went still. Yuzu frowned. “Homura? Why didn't you get ours out?”

Homura dipped her chin and looked at her tea. “You... didn't give me any.”

Yuzu tilted her head in confusion. “Why not?”

Homura bit her lip. Urahara raised a brow. “Miss Akemi?”

Mouth turned down into a hard frown, Homura looked at Urahara instead of the girls. She did not want to see their faces. “By the time the other you learned enough to come up with this plan, Karin and Yuzu were already dead.”

Sharp gasps came from the Kurosaki family. Karin rasped, “We... we died? Like... before everyone else?”

Homura nodded silently.

“H-how?” Yuzu squeaked, grasping for her father's hand again.

Homura was quiet for a moment. Still looking at Urahara instead of the girls, she said, “Yuzu's Soul Gem was destroyed in the fight against the Witch stalking the train tracks. Karin tried to get you to save Yuzu. When you could not, she despaired and turned into a Witch.” Homura glanced at Karin as the girl made a strangled sound. “Everyone here— except Ichigo's friends, that is— was caught in her labyrinth. We retrieved her Grief Seed. We discovered Inoue can revert the Grief Seed into a Soul Gem and revived Karin.”

“I thought you said I died,” Karin whispered, clutching her brother's hand where it rested on her shoulder.

“You did,” Homura answered. “You remembered turning into a Witch and fighting us. Trying to kill us. And... other things.” She really did not want to discuss Yuzu's corpse. “When you— she?— found out I would be going back in time and this you would not remember it, you— the other you— committed suicide by shattering her own Soul Gem to escape the memories,” she finished heavily.

The Kurosaki family looked stricken. Ichigo gripped Karin's shoulder tightly, knuckles white. Isshin let go of Yuzu's hand and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in a protective gesture. Everyone else sat in stunned silence.

“That won't happen,” Ichigo said roughly. “It won't. We won't let it.”

Homura met his eyes, weighed his expression, and quietly said, “Good.”

Urahara grimly gathered his pile of evidence. “Study what Miss Akemi gave you. Miss Akemi, please brief Karin and Yuzu on what you expect us to learn of the events that transpired. We will reconvene this evening for further discussion.”

Everyone reached for their time capsules with varying levels of dread.

Kisuke carefully set his boxes on the work table in his main lab and methodically removed the multiple complex kidō seals he supposed his hypothetical future self had placed on them to prevent tampering. He thought over the meeting as he worked. On one level, the communication of information by recording had been efficient. On the other hand, he would have preferred to have the girls repeat their testimony in person so he could have compared the two recordings for discrepancies and signs of deception. The swift abruptness of Homura Akemi's insistence on referring to the recording could mean many different things. She was well-controlled, spoke as though she was older than she looked, and whatever her motives were, she had successfully redirected the course of the meeting in a way that allowed her to observe everyone else instead of being scrutinized herself. She hadn't been perfect about it, of course— especially in the face of two former officers of the Second Division's covert operations— but it was impressive for someone so young.

If she was as young as she looked. He wasn't ruling out anything yet, especially given the claim that magical girls could continue in perpetuity given enough Grief Seeds to purify themselves with. And the time travel, if that really was true. He was leaning toward it being true given some of the kidō on the pile of time capsules Akemi had given him. Several of his own personal designs were used. No one save Tessai and perhaps Yoruichi should have known about any of them.

Finished with the initial unpacking, Kisuke took the Grief Seed out of his pocket and sat at his desk. He studied it for a few minutes, then reluctantly put it in an isolation jar to investigate later. He then rolled over to his work bench and exchanged the jar for the opened time capsules. His own untidy scrawl had numbered each small package in the order in which they should be opened. Item one was a notebook. Within it he found a long letter to himself written in several of the ciphers he and Yoruichi had invented for private correspondence when they were the Soul Society equivalent of teens, all in his own handwriting and describing multiple incidents from his life that only he should know. Thus convinced of the time travel portion of the magical girl's story, Kisuke moved on to the second package: A thumb drive containing multiple research abstracts in varying degrees of completion.

Kisuke rolled back to his desk, loaded the files, and cracked his neck, settling in to read as much of the summarized findings as possible.

Kisuke was neither surprised that no one was particularly hungry when they reassembled that evening not that everyone still ate the meal Yuzu had spontaneously cooked to keep calm through Akemi's more detailed story anyway. Everyone was tense; some, tearful. Isshin kept staring at Akemi with a searchingly haunted expression. It made her squirm uncomfortably. The silence stretched through the entire meal; the gathering and washing of dishes was unsettlingly loud in the hush. They finally settled and exchanged looks, always glancing back to Akemi. She remained impassive.

Kisuke cleared his throat. “So. Is everyone convinced of Miss Akemi's time travel claims?” Everyone nodded or murmured assent. Kisuke focused on Akemi. “The data you gave me is both fascinating and disturbing. The concept of this Walpurgisnacht construct is worrying. I gathered that you collected the time capsules before its descent— or whatever ended up with the Incubator in possession of a King's Key. Please relate what you know of the events after the time capsules were created.”

Akemi took a deep breath and obliged. She seemed surprised and a bit impatient that describing what had happened took a long time, her audience asking pointed and detailed questions that raked over the details from every angle while Kisuke scribbled everything on his notepad. It was quite late when Kisuke was satisfied.

“I think that's it for now,” he said soberly as he flipped through the pages. He looked up at them all with flinty eyes. “Try to relax for a day or two while I go over my data in depth. I'll send you all digital copies to look at if you like.”

“Relax. Right,” Karin said edgily.

Kisuke heaved a tired sigh and opened his mouth to speak, but Akemi cut him off. “I do not have time to relax. We need to hunt the Witch along the train corridor and I need to get back to Madoka.”

Kisuke blinked passively at the stubborn set of her jaw and considered his words carefully. “Miss Akemi, having you nearby and available to assist my investigation is crucial. This will help your Madoka in the long run.”

Akemi scowled. “You can call me on my phone.”

“Perhaps later, once I am more confident about the nuts and bolts of this system,” Kisuke conceded with a frown. “I want you able to be physically present to test things and talk through hypotheses. Possibly demonstrate your abilities more thoroughly.”

Eyes narrowed, Akemi answered, “You have Karin and Yuzu to figure out how magical girls function.”

“Ah, but you have more detailed knowledge than they do,” Kisuke said as he leaned back and made a bit of a show of rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck while shuffling papers. “Your repeated experience makes you a valuable asset. A rich source of information who can possibly answer hypotheticals by virtue of proposed scenarios having actually occurred in one of your loops. And I think such knowledge would be best communicated in person.” He folded his hands on the table and calmly looked in her eyes. “If you go back right away, you may fall into repeating a pattern that hasn't worked for you in the past. They say one definition of insanity is repeating the same process over and over and expecting different results. Let me look into this and see if there's a way to break your friend out of this cycle— or at least a method that you haven't tried. Hopefully, we will build a plan to eliminate this Incubator and save all girls in addition to your friend.” Kisuke cocked his head. “You said the previous timeline was the first in which Madoka died before the final battle, correct? And that she was partnered with the veteran, ah... Mami Tomoe, for a bit before you became involved, yes? That should give you a few days' leeway in which you can be fairly certain she will be safe.”

Akemi scowled. “She will probably contract in that time. I need to dissuade her.”

“Do you?” asked Yoruichi. She flicked an ear and languidly swished her tail. “We know our little Orihime can purify Soul Gems—”

“Uh-um,” Orihime said nervously while waving a half-raised hand a bit as though interrupting a teacher. “I— I have an idea. Um.” She thoughtfully pressed one finger into her chin. “If... If I can reject the transformation from Grief Seed back into Soul Gem, do you think I could reject the creation of a Soul Gem back into... a normal soul, I guess?”

Everyone stared at her, dumbstruck.

“That is certainly an excellent line of inquiry for us to investigate,” Kisuke finally said with intrigue.

Yoruichi gave her head a little shake and got back on point. “Anyway, if you know Madoka will be fine aside from contracting, it should be safe to leave her to fend for herself for a few days. You said she can one-shot that doomsday combo Witch— I don't think she'll be a pushover. Especially if she's teamed up with that veteran girl.” The cat tilted her head back and looked at Homura askance. “Don't you think?”

Akemi pursed her lips unhappily. After a minute of thought, she sourly conceded the point with an inclination of her chin.

“We're forgetting something,” Uryū said. Everyone looked at him. “How much are we telling the Thirteen Divisions?”

“I think I should verbally report this to the Captain-Commander,” Hitsugaya said slowly. “Especially in light of the King's Key intel— unless he's holding something back, it seemed unclear whether the method Aizen found would work. He should know that it does. Plus, he can order resources for our use without having to explain anything to subordinates.”

Several people made thoughtful noises. Akemi looked at him sideways. “Are you certain he won't order some sort of preemptive strike against magical girls? Us in particular?”

Ichigo scowled. “I'd like to see him try.”

The shinigami and Quincy exchanged significant looks, but kept quiet about Ichigo's influence on operational decisions among the Thirteen Divisions. Akemi frowned, but made no further objections.

Hitsugaya turned to Kisuke. “What sort of plan should I tell him we have?”

Kisuke drummed his fingers on the table. “A day for me to read through more of the research and poke around in general. We'll seek this Witch by the train tracks tomorrow evening. I'll analyze any data we collect. Beyond that, who knows?”

Hitsugaya nodded acceptance. Everyone pulled back from the table. Ichigo's friends and Akemi drifted away with the rattled Kurosaki family. Hitsugaya returned to Soul Society after a melancholy glance at his best friend's retreating back. The residents of Urahara Shop silently watched them go.

Tessai stood and glanced at Kisuke. “I'll get some coffee brewing.”

Kisuke murmured his thanks. He was going to have a long night.

Chapter Text

NEUNUNDDREIßIG

TIMELINE X+N+1

Tōshirō reentered Soul Society, vaguely nodded at the Kidō Corps guards at the main senkaimon, and jumped into shunpo. It was nearing eleven at night, but he knew the Captain-Commander and his lieutenant would probably still be in their office. Sure enough, the windows of the main office of First Division were lit up. He alighted in the courtyard and approached at a measured pace, clutching his time capsule notebook and the duplicate of his unique sash medallion as his mind whirled with ways to spin the situation in a way that wouldn't bring Second or Twelfth Divisions down on the magical girls.

Lieutenant Sasakibe met him in the hall outside his superior's office, having sensed his approach. The older man's aristocratic features looked troubled. He bowed slightly as Tōshirō nodded a greeting to him. Brows knit, the lieutenant said, “Good evening, Captain Hitsugaya. It is quite unusual for you to visit this late.” Why are you here? was implied.

Tōshirō frowned. “I have extremely sensitive and very troubling information to report to Captain-Commander Yamamoto. I request a private audience with him at his earliest convenience.”

Sasakibe matched his frown. “I will return shortly.” Then he ducked into the office door and disappeared. A couple minutes ticked by while Tōshirō stared at a wall and thought. Then the lieutenant returned and ushered him in.

Tōshirō silently stood in front of his commander's desk while the old man finished writing on whatever document he had before him and Sasakibe withdrew. For once, Tōshirō was glad for the delay while Yamamoto completed his task. It let him think.

Yamamoto finally put down his brush, carefully set his papers aside, folded his hands on his desk, and looked at his youngest captain. “You have information for me, Captain Hitsugaya?”

Tōshirō snapped to attention. “Sir. I request a barrier on this room before I speak.”

The old man raised his bushy eyebrows and opened his droopy eyes further. He, too, snapped alert, aware that this captain would not ask such lightly. A few silent hand gestures later, a kidō barrier encased the room to prevent eavesdropping. “Report.”

“There is a situation in the World of the Living,” Tōshirō began. “Though it currently has ties to Karakura and the Kurosaki family directly, it seems to be part of a wider network of predation on the souls of young girls.”

Yamamoto knit his brows. “Explain.”

So he did. In a clipped tone, Tōshirō laid out the basic structure of the magical girl system and the Kurosaki girls' involvement in it. Then he carefully mentioned Homura Akemi's role in approaching them and describing the parts of the system the Kurosaki girls hadn't known about— and the threat of the Incubator creating a King's Key.

The commander narrowed his eyes. “And how does this girl know all this? The existence of the King's Key is a guarded secret. This Incubator obviously takes pains to hide all the information the girl claims to have. How is she privy to such intelligence?”

Tōshirō took a deep breath. “Well, Captain-Commander....” He pursed his lips, choosing words carefully. “Akemi is... an anomaly among magical girls, I suppose. One whose abilities can be extremely useful, but potentially exploited to disastrous results if the wrong sort find out about her. She is aware of this and takes pains to obscure her most powerful ability from the Incubator. I also think Central 46 and Second Division would be... unhappy about her. And Twelfth would be overly happy about her. But her willing participation is crucial to any counter-strategy we formulate. In my opinion, that is.”

Yamamoto stared hard. “She is the reason you requested the barrier.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Continue.”

“Sir.” Please be reasonable. “Akemi's wish gave her time-manipulation powers.”

Yamamoto scowled fiercely. “Time-manipulation is forbidden—”

“Among shinigami,” Tōshirō finished.

The old man looked furious at his interruption. “Captain Hitsugaya—!”

“Sir!” Tōshirō barked. “Please look at this objectively! Akemi is not under the authority of Soul Society. Her abilities have enabled her to gather valuable intelligence and turn back time when the Incubator succeeded at killing most of the Thirteen Divisions command structure and creating a King's Key over Karakura—”

“What?!” Yamamoto roared.

“Her description of the end of the last timeline—”

“She can time travel?!”

“Yes, sir.” Tōshirō did not like the tic in the old man's eye. “Her description included what sounded like it could have been your bankai. It would make sense— all souls in Karakura consumed, Thirteen Divisions command decimated, an enemy breaking into the King's Realm, everything on fire—”

“How can you possibly believe any of this, Captain Hitsugaya?” the Captain-Commander practically spat.

Tōshirō pursed his lips— there was derision at the very idea of any of his story, yes, but that was poorly masking a military leader's dismayed anger at the prospect of sustaining such a crushing loss to an enemy he hadn't even known existed. Skeptical, but taking him seriously. He could work with that. “Sir. She demonstrated her ability to selectively halt the effects of time. As for proof of time travel....” He looked down at his notebook and ran a thumb down its spiral-bound spine. “Apparently my future self was one of the few people to know of Akemi's most powerful technique. This other me wrote... a letter of sorts. To me. His past self. Whatever.” He looked up at Yamamoto, eyes serious. “It's in my own handwriting. There is no way anyone but me could possibly know some of this.”

Yamamoto narrowed his eyes. “You never know what spies have overheard, Captain.”

“Unless spies have learned how to observe interactions between a shinigami and their zanpakutō within their Inner World, I am quite certain that is not a viable option to explain this,” Tōshirō rebutted with a stubborn scowl as he waved the notebook for emphasis.

Yamamoto was silent for a long minute, reiatsu smoldering as the solar dragon within was prodded awake. Then he breathed in deeply and forcibly exhaled from his nose with his eyes closed. He folded his hands on the desk again. “Describe the end of this... timeline.”

Tōshirō recounted the last week of the previous timeline as detailed in his notebook and Akemi's testimony. The banked fire of Yamamoto's reiatsu rose up as Tōshirō spoke, his power like coals shifting and flaring as he listened to the tale of the fall of Karakura— and, essentially, the Thirteen Divisions— to Walpurgisnacht and the Incubator. Tōshirō stood firm before his commander's fury, Hyōrinmaru's icy wings enveloping their shared soul to shield him from the old man's seething dragon-flame reiatsu. The old man was silent for a long time, eyes closed as he thought. Tōshirō knew better than to disturb him.

“We were routed,” Yamamoto heavily said at long last.

“Yes, sir,” Tōshirō answered, voice subdued.

Yamamoto sat back and massaged his temples with one hand as he heaved a sigh. “And this... time-manipulator,” he said. “You are being cautious in how you speak of her. How do you see her involvement from here on?”

“Akemi is our failsafe should we be unable to stop this enemy from achieving its goals,” Tōshirō answered without hesitation. “Her alliance with us could be critical in averting disaster. We cannot afford to alienate or neutralize her.”

Yamamoto sat back and squinted, eyeing his subordinate keenly. “She is an independent power.” She can take steps we legally cannot.

“Yes, sir. Quite like Kisuke Urahara's group, or Ichigo Kurosaki's group.” We have a collection of powerful wildcards already— what's one more? “She shows a significant degree of trust in the Kurosaki family and is... mostly cooperative with Urahara.” She's not as much of a loose cannon if former captains of the Thirteen Divisions are observing her. “I think it would be wise to allow those ties to bind.” If she develops trust in our allies, we could benefit from it.

Yamamoto looked sharply at his youngest captain and considered his words for several minutes before shifting topics without voicing an opinion. “Am I to presume Kisuke Urahara is investigating how the events on the final day can be explained and what can be done to prevent a repetition?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Would I also be correct to presume that he requests I grant him resources above questioning by the other Divisions?”

“Yes, sir. And that I be your direct liaison. We think it would be best to keep all of this off-the-record until we know more, plus Akemi seems to have a marginal degree of trust in me. Urahara would like to initially limit her exposure to other shinigami in hope of her coming to trust me more.”

The old man grunted and stared at his desk as though the solution to the situation was engraved in the grain of the wood. At length, he said, “To appease the time-manipulator into remaining cooperative if another timeline is required, I suppose?”

“Yes, sir. If Twelfth, Second, or Central 46 get to her and... to be quite frank, tear her apart looking for answers, we lose our advantage in having her as a willing ally and probably break ties with the Karakura contingent in so doing. Akemi would then have the option of turning back time and convincing the Karakura contingent to not trust or involve the Divisions in any way, leaving us with no involvement and no information about the threat.”

“Hmm.” Yamamoto scratched his beard and looked up at him, eyes keen. “The other Urahara advised her to get him and the Kurosaki family on her side before doing anything else, didn't he?”

“Yes, sir.” Tōshirō twitched, uncertain of the old man's opinion of that maneuver. He generally did not like when subordinates or allies dodged around him. “Though apparently the other him told Akemi to scrap the plan and run straight to him as soon as she went back.”

“Oh?” the Commander lifted a brow. “Yet she did not. By your own testimony, she delayed.” He narrowed his eyes at the Tenth Division Captain. “She deviated from the new plan to safeguard her own survival by gathering other allies first, then revealed her information in increments designed to minimize disbelief and poor reactions.” He tilted his chin. “And remained on guard while doing so, to the extent that she easily outmaneuvered the Quincy boy.”

Tōshirō regretted the admission at once. It made the girl look sneaky. Or worse, defiant. “...Yes, sir.”

Yamamoto stared at him and tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. He finally settled on a reaction, nodding once and saying, “Good.”

Blinking in surprise, having fully expected to have to defend the girl's actions, Tōshirō stammered, “S-sir?”

“Good,” Yamamoto repeated, arching one brow. “She can think strategically, shows caution in who she trusts, and has well-established self-preservation instincts— unlike some.” Some being a particular orange-haired young man. “This girl may have certain emotional challenges given her youth, but she is at least mature enough to be nuanced in her behavior and anticipate consequences. That is heartening, considering we may be at her mercy if we don't resolve this before she turns back time to a point where no one allied with us knows of her or the threat she has so much information on. It makes her less likely to be swayed by an enemy before we can notice.” He leaned back. “If we are to secure her cooperation in any further timelines which may emerge, we need to give her reason to think our aid is worth seeking over any risk she perceives in so doing. She needs to see that the consequences of not having our help are more dangerous than approaching us. Preferably, she should develop an outright positive attitude toward cooperating with us. In short, Captain: Make her like us.”

Tōshirō couldn't help but stare. The old man, once so set in his ways of absolute adherence to the law, was willing to bend the rules. In a cold and tactical way, yes, but still far more than he once would have gone. Kurosaki really had made a difference when he plowed through the Thirteen Divisions.

“Make no mistake, though, Captain Hitsugaya,” Yamamoto said gruffly. “I view Akemi as a potential asset. Should she become a liability or a threat....” He let the sentence hang for a moment, allowing the silence to imply all manner of things. “Urahara and Shihoin may be nigh uncontrollable, but they should be able to do a proper threat assessment of the girl and overpower her if necessary. If they do not, you are to take action to protect Soul Society and the King's Realm.”

Tōshirō bowed his head. “I understand, sir.”

The old man nodded sharply in return. “Good. Consider yourself assigned to this case. Do not inform your lieutenant of the particulars as yet. If you require additional resources, request them of me directly. Do not speak of this on any phone line which may be monitored by Twelfth Division. Report directly to me and only to me.” Yamamoto dispelled the barrier with a careless wave of one hand. “You are dismissed.”

Tōshirō hurried away as quickly as was polite, already considering his options.

Isshin found himself fervently grateful that Sado and Orihime were among the Kurosaki house guests. In their own ways, each had herded his shell-shocked children into a video game tournament. They hit their stride and finally became distracted enough to enjoy themselves at midnight. They were still going strong at three. He didn't have the heart to tell them to quit and go to bed— what did getting to bed at a reasonable hour matter when faced with the possibility of complete soul death? When trying not to dwell on their once-endings, on how much of their futures rode on Kisuke Urahara's intelligence and the determination of a fourteen-year-old girl? Not much, in his opinion. Let them exhaust themselves with something pleasant. At this point, he'd support anything that would chase away his girls' nightmares.

His girls.

Isshin sat at the kitchen table all night, thinking. He ran his fingers over the notebook that had been in his time capsule. Occasionally re-read particular passages and scrubbed his face with his hands. Pasted a brittle smile on his face when anyone came in for drinks or ice cream. But he spent most of his time turning two small silver objects over in his hands. One was an heirloom of sorts he usually kept safe in his nightstand: the first true Quincy cross charm bracelet his late wife had received when she was ten years old. A relic of the old Kurosaki line— the same Quincy cross a teenage Masaki had used to save his life so many years ago. Holding it was a comfort to him in his wife's absence. He had become familiar with every millimeter of the charm and its chain since her death. Every scratch, every dent, every scuff. The other item had been enclosed in his time capsule: an exact replica of Masaki's one-of-a-kind talisman.

Sighing deeply, Isshin said, “Ah, Masaki.” He looked up at the poster of her joyous face. “I wish you were here to help us through this.” Isshin stared at the poster with an unfocused gaze, rolling the twin Quincy crosses in his hands like rosaries as he tried to think.

The noise in the house gradually tapered down into quiet as the teenagers fell asleep one by one. Still, he kept his vigil. Having heard the story and read his other self's version, he had no illusions that he would find anything but nightmares of shattering rubies and being unable to revive his daughters. Of his Yuzu, doll-sized perhaps, dressed up like a dead princess inside Karin's bare rib cage.

On that note, it had been quite thoughtful of Homura to omit that detail from what she told his girls. He half wished his other self hadn't written of it. But then, it helped stoke a limitless rage deep within him. That was probably his other self's intent. Anyway, he liked the girl's withholding. It spoke of concern and empathy to him. His other self was right— Homura was very restrained in how she displayed emotion, but it was there if you bothered to look for it.

Isshin was surprised when Homura padded into the kitchen just before five with an empty glass. She looked equally surprised to see him. Homura blinked a few times and looked at the open notebook on the table.

“Ah, I am sorry to interrupt you,” she murmured. “I thought you were asleep.”

Isshin grinned wryly. “No problem. I probably should be sleeping. Then again, so should you.”

The girl slightly twisted her lips to one side. “Probably.” She just stood in the doorway and stared. “Excuse me,” she said as she began to withdraw.

“No,” Isshin said firmly, straightening in his seat. The girl turned back to him in surprise. “No,” he repeated. “Please come in. Sit.”

“Ah, I was just a bit thirsty—”

“Water or tea or what?” Isshin asked as he stood.

“That really will not be necessary,” Homura objected.

Isshin looked at her. “Please, sit. Water, tea, soda...?”

Homura hesitated, then carefully approached the table. “Just water is fine.”

“Right,” Isshin said as he took her glass, filled it, and returned to the table. Homura accepted her glass with a murmured thanks but stared at him uncertainly. He sat and stared calmly back as she kept her eyes on him while she sipped. It was like convincing a skittish deer to eat from your hand without fleeing. Isshin was also distinctly reminded of the wary faces his girls made when he called for a family meeting out of the blue.

His girls.

“The other me wrote about you,” Isshin began with a nod to his notebook. “About things he wanted to say to you.”

Homura's cautious expression shuttered into aloofness. “I do not presume to expect you to think of me the same way as your other self. It would be unfair to you,” she said without affectation.

“Ah, so I did talk to you,” Isshin said with a faint smile.

The magical girl pursed her lips. “Yes. But as I said—”

“Thank you.”

Homura drew up short and blinked in surprise. “I'm sorry?”

“I said thank you,” Isshin repeated earnestly. “Thank you for taking on the project of saving my girls. You should be the last person responsible for their well-being but for whatever reason, you opted to take on that burden when the ones you carry are already so heavy. So thank you.”

Homura's lips curved into a troubled frown as she sat back. “I deserve no thanks. My time travel in itself has saved no one. The situation with Walpurgisnacht and the Incubator— this King's Key— It is not selfless.”

“I understand you have bigger fish to fry,” Isshin said with a dismissive wave. “You decided to contact us before that... that apocalyptic mess.” He steepled his fingers together and peered at her appraisingly. “If I— and that other me— if I'm right, you've been burned by seeking help in the past. It was brave of you to agree to this even before you knew how much it involves the shinigami. So thank you.” He stared directly into her eyes. “My household will always be open to you. In any timeline. Just give me the notebook again.”

Homura flushed and floundered about a bit, then looked down at her water. “I— I don't deserve any thanks,” she insisted.

“Stop saying that,” Isshin said with a disapproving frown. “You stumbled your way into the most thankless of jobs and you're trying your best. Have been trying your best past the point where even a lot of adults would have given up. That's admirable. So thank you.”

Cheeks pink, Homura was quiet for a long time. “You're— you're welcome?” she said uncertainly.

Isshin grinned tiredly and stood. “Thatta girl,” he said proudly. He reached over the table and ruffled her hair. She squeaked and looked up at him in owlish surprise. As he walked past her, he paused to lightly clasp her shoulder. “Fill your cup and go crash with the rest of the hooligans. I'm going to bed. We both need to sleep.” He tapped her forehead with one finger. “You gave that sharp brain of yours a real workout today, Miss Social Strategist. Go give it a rest. Good night. Morning. Whatever.”

Isshin could feel her confused stare at his back as he disappeared up the stairs.

The teenagers had crashed hard and didn't start waking up until noon. Yuzu dragged Karin into the kitchen to make brunch. Ichigo hastily insisted guests not help, eyes darting to Orihime with something near fear. His other two friends agreed. Odd. The older teens blearily tried to engage Homura in conversation. She was curled up in the corner of the couch with a blanket over her shoulders, blinking at them drowsily and mostly staring, but occasionally gave brief answers. Then Yuzu came back and announced brunch with a wan smile. Everyone stood.

Ishida smoothed his rumpled clothes. “I need to go do some research.”

Yuzu directed her smile at him. “Please stay for brunch.”

“Ah, I need to try to finish before Urahara finishes his—”

“You can't study on an empty stomach.” The brunette's smile intensified. “Please stay for brunch.”

“.....Right. Brunch,” Uryū stammered, cowed.

Isshin was sitting at the table when they entered. He nodded at them as they sat down. The meal was awkward, stilted attempts at idle chitchat failing until Karin finally gave up on talking about mundane things.

“So, Homura,” she began curiously. “How much stuff fits in that shield of yours?”

Homura blinked slowly and peered at her strangely. “I have yet to find a limit.”

“Wait, seriously?” asked Ichigo.

“Yes.”

“Cool,” Karin said. She leaned forward. “So, what, it's like a black hole in a bag? A bottomless pit?” She looked at her brother. “Ichi-nii, can Urahara make me something that does the same thing? Maybe a backpack?”

Ichigo knit his brows. “Why?”

“Just think of all the soccer equipment I could carry!”

After a long, deadpan stare, her brother said, “I should have known you would say that.”

Karin rolled her eyes and turned back to Homura. “What kind of stuff do you carry in it?”

Homura shifted a bit uncomfortably. She didn't want to make things serious again by bringing up her arsenal. “Ah, a bit of everything, really.”

“Ah! Your suitcase!” Yuzu said with sudden understanding. “You didn't have one when we brought you home but you had one that night. Is that where it was?”

Homura nodded quietly.

Ishida narrowed his eyes, considering. “Is the suitcase bigger across than your shield?”

Homura stared at him, face blank, and did not reply. She was not liking his scrutiny this time around.

Karin answered for her with a popping “Yep!”

The Quincy hummed thoughtfully. “Is there a size limit on what you can store?”

Homura turned her attention to her plate, ignoring his question in favor of the remaining fruit. Ishida opened his mouth but Isshin caught his eye and made a small gesture to stop pressing her. The Quincy pursed his lips and pushed his glasses up his nose.

The Kurosaki family really was an excellent shield.

Karin picked up the thread of conversation and ran in a less serious direction. “The important question is: Do you have a kitchen sink in there?”

“No.” Homura tilted her head in confusion. “Why would I?”

Fingers drumming together and grinning fiendishly, Karin answered, “You need to put a kitchen sink in your shield. Need to. Any time someone asks if you have a kitchen sink, you will break their brains if you haul one out for them.”

Homura thought of the several times Kyōko had said to her Holy shit, you keep everything but the kitchen sink in there! “Ah.” Her brows knit. “Why would I want to?”

Ichigo snorted and Isshin grinned faintly, though he looked a bit sad. Sado's lips twitched in amusement. Karin looked appalled. “Because it's funny. Duh.”

“Oh.” Jokes weren't really her strong suit.

Ishida disappeared after the meal. Ichigo and Sado washed dishes as Karin coaxed all the teens into agreeing to play soccer one by one. It didn't take much effort as everyone wanted a distraction anyway. Hitsugaya joined them halfway to the park, walking toward them from Urahara Shop in a gigai and modern clothing and looking like he hadn't slept much. They had been playing for an hour when Karin's friends showed up.

“Heyyy, Kurosaki!” one of the boys shouted. “The teacher said you were really sick!”

“You don't look sick to me,” another called suspiciously.

Karin glared at them. “Snitches get stitches, Ryohei.”

The boys shuddered and shuffled awkwardly. One of them muttered, “It must be great to have a doctor willing to lie for you for a dad.”

“What? I couldn't hear you,” Karin said loudly, twisting a pinkie finger in one ear. Probably a lie, Homura thought, since she had heard it clearly herself. It must be one of the things Karin did for fun. Seeing them squirm was a bit amusing.

The boys joined their game. Though they were usually rather clueless, apparently they picked up on the edgy distraction of everyone else playing because they would give each other uncomfortable glances as the afternoon wore on.

The sky was dimming into early twilight when Ichigo's cell phone shrilled out Isshin's annoying ringtone. Everyone but Karin's friends were suddenly alert. Ichigo answered, spoke with his father and hung up. He looked around at all the faces keenly watching him for some clue as to whether it was bad news. He awkwardly scratched the back of his head and glanced at Karin's friends before calling out, “Hey, Dad said Urahara's invited us over for dinner before we go back to the condo. Homura's staying at the house so she can come, but, uh, you boys... there's no room for you, sorry. It's gonna be a tight fit as it is.”

The boys looked dismayed.

“Dinner at the candy shop?!”

“How?!”

Karin folded her arms behind her head and feigned nonchalance. “Didn't I ever tell you my old man is buddies with the Candy Man?” By the affronted looks on the boys' faces, the answer was a resounding no.

“What?!”

“No way!”

“Awwww!”

“You get to do all the cool things, Karin!”

Karin held herself straighter and preened. “Of course I do. I'm awesome.”

Yuzu laughed halfheartedly and Hitsugaya pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh.

Homura, cheeks still pink with exertion as she breathed deeply, just turned toward the shop and started walking. She wanted this over with as quickly as possible.

She had a Witch hunt to lead.

Chapter Text

VIERZIG

TIMELINE X+N+1

Uryū approached his father's office in Karakura Hospital with a grim face, running over his arguments in his head. Overcoming Ryūken's obstruction of all things Quincy was not going to be fun, but he wanted a frame of reference before he started digging into the old records. The Director had his secretary make his son wait in the receiving area for forty minutes, of course— a frequent test of how serious his son was about whatever spiritual matter drove him to actually go to the office during business hours. Uryū's obstinacy won the day and he was finally admitted to the impersonal office.

Ryūken didn't bother to look up, instead rifling through a manila folder. “What.”

Accustomed to his father's distant personality, Uryū said, “I need to ask you something about Quincy history.”

“No.”

Uryū scowled. “There is a spiritual predator that has tricked the Kurosaki girls into selling their souls to get power and a wish in exchange for a commitment to fight Hollow-like entities. It claims to have preyed on Quincy girls in the past. I need to corroborate this.”

Ryūken actually glanced up. He stared expressionlessly for a long minute. “Convinced Quincy girls to sell their souls for power and a wish.”

“Yes.” Uryū pursed his lips. “Have you heard about such a thing?”

Ryūken's mouth tightened minutely. “Explain the allegation.”

Irritation made Uryū's eye twitch, but he was used to his father's non-answers. He explained the basics of the Incubator's system without even breathing of time travel or the term magical girl, knowing Ryūken would immediately dismiss him. The fact that the man actually paid direct attention was a sign that he was being taken seriously and he was not going to ruin it. After the explanation, Uryū waited for his father to say something. And waited. And waited. “Well? Have you heard of anything like it?”

Ryūken blinked slowly, then turned back to his folder. “Begin with the genealogies. Cross reference potentially relevant deaths with the histories for context.” It was an obvious dismissal.

Uryū grit his teeth, nodded curtly, and departed for the family archives.

Ryūken stared blankly at the papers in his folder for several minutes after his son left. Eventually, his eyes slid over to the only personal item he kept in his entire office: A simple photograph of his late wife, Kanae. He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, lit one, and took a long drag.

“Selling power and wishes, eh?” he said quietly to her picture.

And here he had thought his wife had been babbling senselessly, delirious on painkillers after giving birth to their son by Caesarian section. Probably still delirious, he thought, but perhaps not completely out of touch with reality.

“Do you remember when we were young? When we were in middle school?” Kanae had asked him in a breathy lilt from the mountain of pillows that supported her so she could hold her newborn and gaze at him lovingly. “I looked up to you so much. Dedicated myself to you so much. Wished I was Echt like Masaki so much. Wished to be healthy enough, strong enough, powerful enough to be your equal. So. Much.”

“Kanae, you need to rest—”

“I almost made that wish, you know,” she said dreamily as she drew one finger across her baby's knuckles until the little hand opened and clasped it. “For real. But I couldn't do it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A little creature came to me and said if I made a wish, it could grant it with magic and make me stronger at the same time. I'd just have to fight a different kind of Hollow, and I fought Hollows already. I could wish to be Echt, or the most powerful Quincy alive, or even that your betrothal would be nullified. I thought and thought and thought, but I couldn't do it.” Kanae had looked up from their son's tiny face, glassy eyes not quite focusing on her husband. “It wouldn't have been honest. It wouldn't have been fair to you.” Tears slid down her cheeks.

“Kanae,” Ryūken had said haltingly. “Kanae, I think you were dreaming. Give Uryū to me. You need to sleep.”

“A dream? It felt so real....” She trailed off and looked back down at her son as he shifted against her chest. “But I'm so happy I didn't do it. I'm so happy. I didn't need a wish, or to be different. You love me as I am. I was enough by myself. And we have a baby now. I'm so happy. I'm so happy.”

If she remembered the exchange after the drugs wore off, she never spoke of it.

Ryūken exhaled and looked at his wife's portrait through the smoke. “It seems I owe you another apology, Kanae.”

Kisuke sat at the table in the shop's back room, shuffling between papers and a tablet as he reviewed his research. Jinta was absent, minding the shop, and Ururu and Tessai were puttering around in the kitchen preparing dinner. Yoruichi sauntered into the room in human form, plopped a file folder on the table, and sat.

“I fleshed out your dossier on Akemi as much as I could,” she announced as she noted the dark circles under her friend's eyes. “Sad stuff but no red flags. Her parents died not quite two years ago. She was hospitalized for a cardiac incident at the time. The story about the globetrotting uncle also appears to be true. Rich family. Most of the girl's inheritance is held in trust, but disbursements for medical and living expenses are allowed. A generous stipend for food and other necessities is deposited into her active account once a week. None of the withdrawals from the trust look suspicious. All match payments on file with the medical procedures, the move, and so on. Looks like she moved to Mitakihara a few months ago to do an outpatient clinical trial before being admitted for monitoring and surgery. She was just discharged on the sixteenth. She has her own little townhouse in the city.”

Kisuke raised an eyebrow. “No adult supervision?”

“Apparently not,” Yoruichi answered with a shrug.

Kisuke hummed, murmured his thanks, and tucked the file into a box to his side.

Yoruichi leaned back on her hands. “So what's the verdict on this mess?” she asked with a wave at the tabletop.

“...Interesting,” Kisuke muttered.

Yoruichi rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

“Disturbing.”

“A given, I'd assume.” She peered at him askance. “You're not going to say anything until you have more information from whatever the hell we do tonight, are you?”

Kisuke beamed at her. “Nope!”

Yoruichi sighed. “Do you at least think the threat is credible?”

“Oh, yes. Indeed I do,” Kisuke said softly.

She drummed her fingers on the table for a minute. “Right. So we're going hunting tonight. Anything you want me to keep an eye out for?”

Kisuke's eyes sharpened. He signaled for Tessai to approach. When he had both of them, he said, “Tessai, pay particular attention to Miss Akemi's use of her temporal stasis technique. I want to know how similar it is to Jikanteishi*. You're the expert there. I'll give you something to help with that after dinner.” Tessai nodded assent. Kisuke turned to Yoruichi. “I want you to analyze the techniques and powers of the magical girls. See if you can identify the commonalities and differences between what they do and shinigami techniques.”

“Sure.” Yoruichi threw a lazy salute. “And you'll be...?”

“Observing everything to some extent, but largely monitoring sensors about this pocket dimension and the abilities of whatever opponents we find within.”

Soon, the others arrived for an awkward dinner. They quickly gave up on small talk in favor of grilling Uryū on what he had found in his spontaneous research. He repeatedly demurred, saying he was nowhere near done, but did let slip that he had found several suspiciously young deaths of Quincy girls compared to Quincy boys to investigate. Kisuke was itching to get into the Quincy archives himself. Uryū just gave him an unimpressed stare.

No trust. Honestly.

Once done, they focused on planning their evening. Given the difficulty Akemi described finding the particular Witch they were seeking, they laid out a broad search pattern. Since Urahara Shop was on the far eastern edge of town, they decided to begin their search two train stops into the next city over and work their way west. They began at twilight and divided into three search parties to move along the railway corridor in tandem. Yuzu's team took the street north of the tracks, Karin's team took the street south of the tracks, and Akemi's team walked the tracks themselves. Kisuke walked with Akemi, watching his sensor device. Isshin, Ichigo, and Hitsugaya ghosted along the rooftops and power poles in shinigami form to keep an eye on them all, having abandoned their bodies at the shop. They moved carefully westward, watching the soft glow of the three Soul Gems. It was tense but tedious work. They had reached the train trestle over the Karasu River that bisected town when Yuzu slightly raised her reiatsu to signal everyone that her Soul Gem had sensed something. Her team stopped while the others continued westward until Akemi's Gem began to glow as well. She signaled as Yuzu had. Karin's team continued west for a bit, then veered north and backtracked until her Gem glowed as well. The search parties began wandering toward the center of their triangle, following whichever paths made their Gems glow brighter as Kisuke frowned at his sensor. They met up at a point halfway between the river and the Old Karakura Train Station, by a glass collectibles shop north of the tracks.

Karin huffed and complained aloud, “She's hiding practically in our back yard.”

“How's your dowsing rod, Kisuke?” Yoruichi called from Yuzu's group.

Kisuke hummed. “It only started picking up a slight distortion about forty meters back,” he announced. He looked up and glanced at the three points of light that made up their triangle, Soul Gems glowing brightly. “Far less sensitive than Soul Gems. I'll have to play with calibration later.”

“Something feels weird,” Jinta said suspiciously.

“I feel it,” Uryū said quietly. “Very faintly.”

“I think I see the distortion,” Hitsugaya said as he alighted next to Karin. He squinted and pointed. “Like a heat haze. There. Is that it?”

“Yep!” Karin answered with forced cheer. “Watch this.” She stepped toward it and brandished her Soul Gem. It flared with ruby light, which triggered a flash of orange light. Afterward, the distorted air had a large orange symbol floating in its center. It looked like a pumpkin with a clock face, set against the outline of butterfly wings. Kisuke's sensor beeped.

“Ah, I really feel it now!” Orihime gasped.

Isshin narrowed his eyes. “It feels like a Garganta. Kinda.”

“Fascinating,” Kisuke muttered as he inspected the sigil with his sensor. Everyone stood and watched him fiddle around with assorted gadgets for nearly ten minutes. Finally, he straightened and looked around. “Now what, girls?”

“We go in,” Akemi said coolly. She strode through the portal without waiting for a response.

“Wait—! Oh my God,” Isshin gasped before hurrying after her. Everyone else rushed in with him.

Just as Kisuke thought: His friend had all but adopted the girl and was in protective father mode. What had his other self written?

She is already their kin in spirit, therefor she is ours to protect, now, Benihime declared. The Kurosakis will have nothing less.

Kisuke quirked his lips in amusement as he stepped through the portal himself. He found himself on a platform in a curious subway station. The others were craning their heads around to look at their surroundings.

“Please don't go wandering away from us without warning again,” Isshin said disapprovingly.

Akemi looked at him over her shoulder and raised a brow. “I said I was going in.”

Isshin opened his mouth to speak, made a gesture, and stopped himself. He sighed deeply. “Wait for us to actually respond next time.”

Kisuke moved to the edge of the platform and peered around. There were haphazard train tracks and tunnels zigzagging about. Industrial wreckage littered every surface that did not host rails. A multitude of clocks adorned every vertical surface, causing an echoing cacophony of asynchronous ticking. Blooming jacaranda branches sprawled along the ceiling, painted lady butterflies darting about the lavender flowers. The air was heavy with presence.

Akemi blinked owlishly at Isshin and shrugged, then turned to face forward. She held her Soul Gem up. “Karin. Yuzu.”

The chamber was awash in colored light as the three girls transformed. Karin and Yuzu stepped up to either side of Akemi in their own magical girl costumes. Even though Kisuke had expected it, he still had to stare and reassure himself that he was awake and not in some bizarre anime dream.

“Oh my God,” Jinta said dully.

The three girls looked back at him. He was obviously staring at Yuzu, cheeks pink. Yuzu tilted her head. “What's wrong, Jinta?”

The boy went bright red and looked away from the frilly yellow costume. “N-nothing.”

Karin snickered. Yuzu looked confused.

Akemi turned back to face everyone. “Mr. Urahara wants to observe magical girl techniques, so Karin, Yuzu, and I will take point. You follow us and provide support if needed. Observe as much as you can— I do not know of another Witch nearby, so this may be your only chance for now. I will give further instructions when we near the center of the labyrinth.” She lifted her chin imperiously. “Questions?”

Ichigo made a sound of protest and opened his mouth— likely to insist his sisters not fight— but Isshin grabbed his shoulder and squeezed firmly to stop him. His son looked at him to argue, but found his father's face grim and worried as his probably was.

Isshin met his son's eyes. “They need to do this, Ichigo,” he muttered, just near enough for Kisuke to hear. “Keep an eye out for them, intervene if you need to, but this is their cause. They need to do something to contribute to this situation or they'll feel helpless and guilty.”

Ichigo's face contorted with frustration, but he settled. He understood the feeling.

“A suggestion,” Tessai said as he stepped forward. “If I understand correctly, your greatest vulnerability is your Soul Gem, correct?”

Everyone's eyes jumped to the citrine at Yuzu's throat. Yuzu froze and swallowed hard, drawing her hand up to it.

“Yes,” Akemi replied.

Tessai nodded curtly. “If you will allow me, I can cast kidō shields around them.”

The Kurosaki girls cheered up and immediately approached the big kidō master. Akemi stared at him in shock and watched as he cast glowing bubbles around the ruby and the citrine. He looked up at her and held his hands out in invitation. Akemi blinked, mouth opening and closing a few times before she could speak. “You— you can do that?”

“Tessai's awesome,” Karin interrupted.

Tessai smiled faintly. “Yes, I can.”

Akemi looked suspiciously at the bubbles on the other girls' Soul Gems. Yuzu understood and walked up to Akemi and made an inviting gesture. Akemi poked the shield around the Gem at her throat, getting a feel for it and what it did.

Kisuke could tell by the astounded frustration on her face that she was kicking herself for never having thought of something like that before. That worried him a bit; it seemed like a fairly obvious solution. Unless she didn't have a similar technique?

Karin also read Akemi's face correctly and wryly said, “Yeah, right? I'm feeling pretty stupid.”

Yuzu gave a weak, self-deprecating laugh. Akemi huffed and walked up to Tessai. She cautiously held out her left hand, exposing the diamond-shaped amethyst on its back. Tessai carefully hovered his hands over it and generated a bubble. Akemi stepped back and inspected it critically. Kisuke realized she could feel the difference in feel between one side of the barrier and the other. So she was discerning in her understanding of reiatsu. Or magic. Whatever. Was there a difference?

Tessai correctly interpreted Akemi's baffled face. “It's a variant of a barrier called Kyōmon. It is very strong from the outside but easily broken from the inside.”

Akemi peered up at him and tilted her head. Apparently, she appreciated the thoughtful choice and indicated it with a serious nod as she withdrew. Tessai, a man of few words himself, returned the nod.

Kisuke was pleased that they were getting on well. Bless Tessai.

The time traveler held herself regally again, dismissing the presence of their observers. “Karin, Yuzu, have you already been to the center of this labyrinth?”

“Just the once,” Karin answered. “Like a week ago. Too many damn Familiars. She ran away when we were busy.”

Akemi nodded sharply. “We will use the same tactics we did in the previous timeline, as they worked well to get to the center. When we reach chambers full of Familiars, I will use a widespread attack. When I stop, you two rush in to eliminate those that remain.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Yuzu said with a firm nod.

Karin glanced over her shoulder at their friends and family. “You guys ready?”

Kisuke held up his sensor and the others made sounds of agreement. The group set off down a tunnel, following the lead of Akemi's glowing Soul Gem. Soon, they emerged into what appeared to be a large subway station studded with clocks, the floor covered in scattered wreckage and pumpkins of varying sizes and the ceiling decorated with jacarandas. The Familiars were plainly visible on a far platform. They were scarecrows the size of men with gigantic turnips for heads. All were dressed as train conductors. A whistle was jammed into each turnip where a mouth would be on a human face. They topped off their surreality with a pair of glimmering fairy wings on their backs. Six of them span in circles on the platform. The girls' backup reacted in several different ways— curiosity, bewilderment, suspicion.

“Ready?” Akemi asked coldly as she reached into her shield. Forewarned by his other self's letter, Kisuke prepared to be entertained.

The sisters materialized their weapons, to the surprise of their observers, and agreed. Akemi hauled a big gun out of the shield and took aim as the others made sounds of shock.

“Holy shit, is that a machine gun?!” Jinta screeched. He was immediately drowned out by thundering gunfire.

Akemi released the trigger and lowered the muzzle. Karin and Yuzu leapt forward to take out the two stragglers. They made short work of the scarecrows as their observers made a lot of noise.

Karin perched on the edge of the platform, her sword hand fisted against one hip while the other screwed one finger around in her ear. “Dammit, Homura, give a girl some warning before you shoot a fucking machine gun like right next to her ears!” she snarled.

“What,” Hitsugaya said blankly, hands massaging his temples.

Akemi reloaded and snapped the ammo tray closed. “My apologies,” she said, not sounding sorry at all as everyone winced, held their ears, or did jaw exercises to overcome their sudden ringing. Only Kisuke, Tessai, and Yoruichi were unaffected, having heeded their other selves' warnings about being in close quarters with the magical girl during battle. Kisuke wondered why their other selves had been the only ones to think to include warnings about Akemi's chosen weapons.

...Probably the trauma, actually. Kinda took the fun out of things.

“What?” Orihime asked dazedly.

“Where the hell did you get a gun?!” Ichigo screamed.

“What?” Jinta said loudly.

Akemi glanced at Ichigo. “My shield.”

“What?!” Ichigo demanded.

The magical girl looked a bit impatient. “I store conventional weaponry in my shield.”

“You have more?” Uryū squawked.

“Of course.”

“You're fourteen,” Isshin said in a disturbed voice.

“So?”

“So how did you get machine guns?!”

“That is not important,” Akemi said breezily as she faced the front again.

Beautiful.

The magical girl turned to the next doorway and brushed her hair behind her shoulders. “Come.”

Several of the others sputtered in disbelief, but Kisuke immediately followed her, pretending to completely ignore the mundane weapon in the girl's hand.

The party continued through the subway tunnels, using the same strategy every time they came to a subway station. As they progressed, each station housed more Familiars and butterflies than the last and the scent of jacaranda flowers became much more cloying. After more than half an hour, they came out of a curve in the tunnel and saw that the next archway was larger and far more ornate, indecipherable runes etched in the bricks. Kisuke had never seen the like.

“This is it,” said Yuzu.

The trio carefully approached the tunnel exit and peeked around its sides. Kisuke and some of the others peered over their shoulders. Before them was an enormous brick chamber. Instead of a subway platform, the cavern housed a sprawling train switch yard with tracks that snaked around and into adjacent tunnels. The timepieces on the walls ranged from pocket watches to cuckoo clocks to ornate grandfather clocks. Jacaranda tree trunks surrounded the cavern, forming a fragrant lavender canopy over the room as they branched out into the tunnels. Lantern-like glass slippers filled with smoldering embers dangled from the branches. A huge bell was suspended from the apex of the ceiling. Beneath the bell, all the various train rails converged into a train turntable. Pumpkins connected by vines made of wire were strewn about the spaces between tracks. Upon the center point of the entire room sat the Witch's decoy.

The decoy's base was a huge jack-o'-lantern that took up most of the space on the turntable. An over-sized vintage plaster mannequin protruded from the top of the jack-o'-lantern from the hips up, lifeless eyes staring vacantly. A gauzy black ballroom skirt flowed down from its waist and encircled the pumpkin base except for the glowing jack-o'-lantern face; jacaranda flowers decorated its waist. It wore a black bodice and its stiff arms were covered with black elbow gloves. Atop its head sat the cut-out lid of the jack-o'-lantern, its thick stem making it resemble a top hat. A mourning veil trailed down from the pumpkin-hat. The entire ensemble was completed with an upside-down pair of painted lady butterfly wings at the mannequin's back. The decoy was not facing the party directly, but was turned about fifteen degrees away from them.

The cavern was crowded with a different sort of Familiar than the turnip-headed fairy conductors. Clockwork creatures made of bare gears and metal whirled around the floor of the chamber in an intricate waltz. Vaguely-female Familiars bore short pseudo-skirts made of jacaranda branches trailing flowers; their partners wore pumpkin-lid top hats on their heads. Their dancing carried them around the rail yard pumpkin patch without tripping.

“Did you give us drugs with dinner, Boss?” Jinta asked suspiciously.

“Not this time!” Kisuke chirped as Tessai cuffed the back of Jinta's head.

“Okay,” Karin began, matter-of-fact. “We know the dancing thingies can make their hands turn into bayonet-things to slice with. They keep spinning so the room may as well be a gauntlet. We didn't manage to get to the actual Witch last time so we have no clue what it— she— does.”

Akemi hummed in consideration as she surveyed the cavern, presumably calculating a new plan based on the failures of the previous timeline. “The pumpkin doll is not the Witch,” she said absently. “Not directly. It is a decoy. That was our mistake last time. It is the most complex Witch... Familiar... decoy I have ever encountered. Others are much stronger, but this one is tricky.”

There was a long beat of silence before Karin muttered, “Well, shit.”

Seeing that Kisuke was busy fiddling with his tech toys, Yoruichi drawled, “So what is the target?”

Staring intently, Akemi pointed to the crown of the roof. “The bell.”

Everyone squinted into the dim upper reaches of the ceiling. The bell loomed over them, mostly visible by the reflected orange glow from the glass slipper lanterns.

“How did you take it out last time?” Karin asked. “'Cause that thing is way up. I dunno how I'd get to it without bouncing off the... decoy thing.”

“I fired a few RPGs at it,” Akemi answered in a distracted tone.

Kisuke eyed the others. He needed some positive entertainment out of this mess and this was going to be glorious.

After a moment of incredulous silence, Uryū said, “I'm sorry, do you mean rocket-propelled grenades?”

“Yes.”

“You carry rocket-propelled grenades in your shield?!” he screeched.

Akemi glanced at him in irritation. “Yes.”

Ichigo spluttered. “What else do you have in there, bombs?!”

Again, a blandly impatient, “Yes.”

“I was joking!”

“Homura,” Isshin ventured, disturbed. “Machine guns, grenades, bombs...? Where do you get it all?”

“Most of my munitions are appropriated from JSDF or US military bases,” Akemi began.

“Appropriated,” Uryū muttered scandalously.

Glorious. Did she even realize what she was doing?

“But I make the various bombs myself,” the magical girl finished with a dismissive wave.

“You... you know how to make bombs,” Isshin said dully.

“Who taught you?” Kisuke asked quietly. His other self hadn't known that.

Akemi turned to him and weighed him for a moment before answering, “The internet.”

He stared at her for a long minute. That implied strength in self-instruction and a deep well of patience for detailed and delicate work. “I see.”

She frowned, possibly wondering what he understood.

Considering the main chamber again, Kisuke asked Akemi to describe the battle she had survived. Akemi complied with curt, emotionless sentences that made everyone eye the decoy more and more warily. She abruptly stopped.

“And then...?” Hitsugaya asked.

Akemi shifted uneasily, but kept her face impassive. “Then Mr. Tsukabishi's shields would have been useful.”

Silence.

Isshin compulsively reached forward and patted Yuzu's hair as though to be certain she was still with them.

“You have seen us fighting the Familiars up to now,” Akemi continued. “I think it would be best to minimize risk and take out the bell from a distance without engaging the Familiars and decoy.” She glanced at him sideways. “Unless you want to see us fight it?”

Kisuke adjusted his hat on his head, taking the moment to think as everyone turned to him. He deliberately avoided the eyes of the Kurosaki men, knowing they were probably looking rather intense. Time to play it safe. He could be more demanding another day with an enemy that was less of an emotional powder keg. “No, I don't think so. Not if it's as complex as you say. I just want to record the lead-up and aftermath of the defeat to capture what happens to turn all of this into one of those Grief Seeds.”

Akemi gave a businesslike nod, stuffed the machine gun into her shield, and withdrew an RPG launcher. And another. And another.

“Holyshityouweren'tkidding,” Jinta breathed, eyes wide.

Ururu carefully dodged to the front of the group. “I can help,” she murmured, holding her shoulder-cannon up to show the magical girl. Akemi nodded acceptance.

“Um, do you need more help, Homura?” Yuzu asked nervously. “I don't think you can do three at once....”

Akemi tossed her hair over her shoulder, nonchalant as though a cavern full of whirling death wasn't behind her. “That's what my time-stop is for.”

Several of the combatants perked up in interest. Kisuke leaned forward as Akemi turned away. “I want to see.”

The magical girl glanced at him over her shoulder. “Having you hold onto me will ruin my aim.”

Kisuke pouted. Tessai cleared his throat. “Would a kidō that linked us together be sufficient? I can tie the end to your ankle.”

Akemi raised an eyebrow. “Like a... ribbon?”

The big man nodded. “Yes. But made of reishi.”

“...Magic?”

Karin interrupted with, “Close enough.”

Homura narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “...Show me.”

Tessai nodded once, gestured with his hands, and a bolt of yellow energy lanced out to loop around Yoruichi's wrist. Yoruichi held her hand up to show that she wasn't being harmed by the crackling binding, swinging her arm around to show she retained mobility.

“It's called Hainawa,” Yoruichi drawled.

Akemi inclined her chin. “I suppose.” She watched carefully as Tessai made a cord of energy dart out and coil around her ankle, then lightly twisted her foot around to test and inspect it as Tessai used the same technique to link the entire party together. Kisuke shoved a device into Yoruichi's hand. She glanced at it and idly pointed it at the bell. Another gadget was shoved at Jinta, who grumbled but cooperated and also pointed it at the bell. Tessai adjusted his glasses and faced Homura instead of the bell. Kisuke eagerly messed with another item and pointed it at the bell.

“Ready when you are,” he said, mouth grinning beneath hard eyes.

Akemi activated what appeared to be a previously-hidden sand timer in her shield with a thought. No spoken incantation, even. With a series of clicks and whirs, their surroundings suddenly froze. The lanterns didn't flicker; the automatons' dance went still. Color itself dulled under the technique and shifted bluish.

Kisuke had more questions than he could ever hope to articulate.

“No fair,” Karin said as Akemi bent to retrieve an RPG launcher. “That makes it so easy to pick off whatever you want.”

Akemi shrugged. She glanced at Ururu. “You fire first.”

Ururu glanced at Homura, then stepped away from the group, intently locked onto her target, and fired her shoulder-mounted spirit cannon. The projectile shot out a good ten meters before freezing in midair. Ururu lowered her weapon and turned to watch Akemi. The magical girl squinted, calculating the blast's trajectory, and side-stepped a few paces to fire the first of her RPGs. She immediately tossed the launcher away with a careless movement; it tumbled for a moment before stopping midair.

A delay between loss of contact and stopping?

Akemi returned, picked up the second RPG launcher, and stepped to the other side. She repeated her actions then returned for the final RPG, tested the cord on her ankle, and walked forward several meters to fire the third RPG below Ururu's projectile. The magical girl strode back to the party, cocked her head, and asked, “Are you ready?”

When she had the all-clear, Akemi allowed time to resume. Two seconds later came a magnificent quadruple explosion and the clanging of the iron bell shearing into multiple pieces. Yuzu cast her barrier to block the shrapnel, but it had already begun to wobble out of existence as the pocket dimension collapsed and condensed into a Grief Seed, leaving them back in front of the collectibles shop in the darkness between street lights.

“Epic,” Jinta said in awe.

Kisuke couldn't help but stare at Akemi. It was amazing, yes. But also frightening. Time bent to that girl's will so easily it was frightening.

The magical girls immediately released their transformations. Karin approached the Grief Seed with subdued steps and gently lifted it from the pavement. She stared at it, transfixed, an oddly conflicted expression on her face. Yuzu hesitantly stepped to her side and leaned into her twin with a half-hug as Tessai silently dispelled the kidō. Isshin walked up behind the girls and set his hands on their shoulders. He smiled down at them and hoarsely said, “Come on, girls, let's go back to the shop.”

On some unanimously superstitious level, no one wanted to overtly celebrate that the twins had cheated death.

Yuzu reached up and squeezed her father's hand, then stepped forward and pulled her sister along behind her. Ichigo hovered behind them like a mother hen. The others started to trail along after them.

Akemi twitched and looked up in surprise as Isshin's hand fell on her shoulder. She blinked up at him in silent question. The man made a motion as though to wipe his eyes, but diverted to scrub his hand over his mouth and blow out a hard sigh. He squeezed her shoulder tightly. “Thank you,” he rasped.

Akemi shuffled and glanced aside, suddenly melancholy. “I do not deserve—”

Isshin squeezed her shoulder again. “What have I said about that?”

She shyly clasped her hands together and looked at her feet, cheeks warm. “Y-you're welcome?”

Isshin barked a tearful laugh and ruffled her hair. “Thatta girl.” He walked forward, then turned and beckoned her. His face was smiling but his eyes were wet. “C'mon. Let's go.”

Kisuke had to shake himself out of his thoughts to follow them.

Chapter Text

EINUNDVIERZIG

TIMELINE X+N+1

The party settled in at Urahara Shop once again. Tessai served them all ice cream in a bizarre gesture of normalcy as they sat around the table to discuss everything. A loud smack drew their divided attention to Urahara, who was sitting with a bowl of ice cream in one hand and his fan in the other.

“Okay!” the scientist announced. “I will analyze the data we collected tonight later! Question time for you lovely ladies!”

Homura stiffened. Karin grimaced. Yuzu nervously pushed her ice cream around with her spoon. Urahara proceeded to grill them on how Familiars functioned, how the girls performed their various techniques, summoned their weapons, and so on.

“That's enough to work with for now. In the next few days, I'll ask you three to come—”

“No.”

Everyone turned to Homura, who turned her lips down into a stubborn frown.

“Excuse me?” Urahara asked.

“No. I am not staying a few more days. I shall return to Mitakihara in the morning.”

Everyone stared. Urahara recovered and said, “Miss Akemi, I need to investigate more fully— observe live demonstrations—”

“No,” Homura insisted. “You can ask me by phone, but I must be back in Mitakihara. Without my interference, Madoka will contract tomorrow afternoon. I will not allow it.”

Urahara's frown matched hers. “We have Miss Inoue to—”

Homura narrowed her eyes. “You know as well as I do that the possibility of her reversing the contract is conjecture at best.”

Several people raised their eyebrows and looked to Urahara.

The scientist bit his cheek. “...I concede your point.”

Homura inclined her chin in acknowledgment.

“But how do you expect me to be able to help you if you distance yourself from me and my base of operations?”

“You are intelligent,” Homura said coolly. “I presume you are capable of solving such a problem.”

Urahara's intense gray eyes bored into her for a long minute. “How do you know she'll contract tomorrow? You estimated a few days before.”

“Statistics.” Homura pushed a strand of hair behind one ear. “Over the course of many timelines, I have determined a pattern for her contracting. I confirmed early on that unless I am present to alter events, Madoka will encounter the Incubator on her way home from school tomorrow. It will trick her into wishing to heal a cat that she witnesses being hit by a car. I suspect the Incubator does not move more quickly because it wants Madoka to make a weak wish and is stalking her for an opportunity to convince her to make one.” She tilted her head. “In my experience, if I am present over the weekend, it is easier to delay or eliminate the encounter by indirect means. In waiting this long to approach Madoka, I have eliminated a wide array of potential distractions and will likely have to interfere directly.”

Frowning harder and tapping his fan absentmindedly, Urahara tilted his head and said, “You said you would stay a few days. I didn't take you for a liar.”

“I said no such thing,” Homura sniffed as she turned her attention to her ice cream. “You and Ms. Yoruichi were the ones to bring up a term of 'a few days leeway'. Monday is the second day after that conversation. Two is within the span of 'a few', which is generally accepted to be three or four.”

A self-deprecating grin spread on Yoruichi's face. “You weren't convinced by my argument at all, were you? You just dropped the subject so we'd shut up.”

Homura inclined her chin in a snobby affirmative. Yoruichi laughed darkly. Honest frustration made Urahara press his lips together like a parent having trouble controlling an unruly child.

“Kisuke,” Isshin said quietly, face somewhere between entertained and disturbed. “Kisuke, this is what it's like to be friends with you. My god.” He couldn't stop himself from chuckling lowly.

Urahara blew a deep breath out his nostrils and reconsidered his options. Recognizing her friend's recalculating expression, Yoruichi stalled for time. “So, let's back up a second. The girl who can one-shot Walpurgisnacht contracted... to save a cat.”

Homura's eyes darted from one former Second Division officer to the other, plainly figuring they were distracting her. She allowed it to continue for now. “Yes. In many timelines in which she contracts before Walpurgisnacht, anyway. A black cat she named Amy. She is a stray that will not let herself be adopted. Madoka calls her independent. She is concerned for Amy's welfare and assists her when she can.”

Yoruichi's face turned sly. “An independent black cat, you say?” Her eyes slid to Kisuke for a moment, then back to Homura. “So she likes cats?”

The magical girl tilted her head a bit, guessing where she was heading. “Very much so. Caring for Amy was one of the things that brought us together in the original timeline.”

“Oho~,” Yoruichi crowed. “What if you had your very own pet black cat with an independent streak? One who takes a liking to your new classmate and coincidentally distracts her from danger sometimes?”

Homura pensively looked down into her empty ice cream bowl. Cooperation would mean that she would be under constant observation herself as well, but a bodyguard for Madoka who the Incubator wouldn't suspect could be priceless. Actually... “Wouldn't the Incubator be able to sense your magic? ...Reiatsu?”

Urahara distractedly waved his fan while scribbling ideas in a notebook, ice cream forgotten. “There are ways to conceal reiatsu.”

Homura looked up at them, then down again. So Yoruichi could also observe the Incubator's interactions with Madoka. There would also be the opportunity to ask questions about shinigami in private. “I... suppose... that would be a mutually beneficial arrangement,” she said carefully.

“Right, then,” Urahara said decisively. “Yoruichi will go back to Mitakihara with you tomorrow. She'll do what she can as a cat without provoking suspicion. In the mean time, I will work with Karin and Yuzu to study the basics of the magical girl soul-state. Others—” he gestured around the table— “will investigate other angles, such as studying disappearances and history in more depth. I will contact you by phone to ask questions or give updates. Is that satisfactory for now?”

Homura silently nodded her agreement.

“Now, before Ichigo and his friends go back to their condo—” Urahara began.

Ichigo balked. “What?! I need to be with my sisters—!”

“No, you do not, Ichigo,” Urahara said calmly. “We can monitor Karin and Yuzu now. Until we have more information, there's nothing you can do but perhaps assist with research. Which you can do via internet from your condo.” His expression softened at the frustration on Ichigo's face. “Once we know what to attack and how, we'll point you at it and let you go to town. Until then, cooperate so you don't jeopardize the entire investigation.”

Ichigo looked conflicted and furious, but reined himself in. He nodded, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.

“Now, as I was saying,” Urahara continued, “before you four leave I want Miss Inoue to repeat the experiment her future self did for me.”

Orihime started in surprise, then her eyes widened in understanding. “Oh! The purification?”

“Yes.” Urahara placed two items on the table: the spent Grief Seed Homura had given him and the new Grief Seed they had just collected. Then he slid something that looked like a smart phone across the table to Karin. “If you would put your Soul Gem on here, please.” Karin dubiously complied and looked up for further instruction. He pushed the new Grief Seed to her. “I want you to purify your Soul Gem using the conventional method. Miss Inoue?”

“Yes!” Orihime chirped. She gestured at her hairpins. “Ayame, Shun'ō, come out and watch!”

Homura watched more closely this time as the two fairies split away from the older girl's hairpins with a flare of gold magic. It was difficult to make out what exactly they looked like even though she went so far as to lean over the table to watch them drift around the clouded ruby. Humanoid was about all she could make out. She decided to not push to see them up close for now.

On Urahara's signal, Karin tapped the new Grief Seed against her Soul Gem with a distinct clink. Everyone watched as darkness gathered and seeped out of the ruby like iron filings drawn to a magnet. Soon, the Soul Gem was a more brilliant red than it had been. Karin withdrew the Grief Seed, going still when the two fairies darted after her hand. She held the Grief Seed rigidly as the fairies flitted around and chattered, then swooped back to the Soul Gem. After a few cycles, they zoomed back to their mistress and fluttered around her head.

Orihime clapped delightedly. “They think they can do it!”

Urahara looked at her intently. “Purify tainted Soul Gems, reverse the transformation from Grief Seed, or both?”

“Both!” the fairy mistress cheered.

Everyone made hopeful sounds as Karin returned the Grief Seed to Urahara, who hummed and looked at it thoughtfully before putting it down. “Do they have any comments about the items?” he asked.

Orihime looked at her fairies expectantly. After some chattering and chiming, Orihime looked back to Urahara and gave the same report her future self had. Urahara steepled his fingers together. “Miss Inoue, would you mind testing your purification on Yuzu's Soul Gem?”

“Sure!”

Karin recalled her Soul Gem into ring form as her twin manifested her own Gem. Yuzu set the citrine on the smart phone sensor. Orihime held her hands out.

“Sōten Kisshun: I Reject!”

The two fairies floated on opposite sides of the Soul Gem. A translucent gold shield snapped into place over it. Black reishi drifted up and dissipated against the shield like smoke. In the span of two minutes, the Gem was perfectly purified. Many at the table sagged in relief.

The girls didn't have to rely on participation in the magical girl food chain to retain their souls.

Urahara nodded in satisfaction. “Miss Inoue, are you tired?”

“Not at all!” she chirped. “That was simple.”

The scientist picked up the Pumpkin Witch's Grief Seed and rolled it around in his fingers, considering it. “Would you be willing to try to reverse the damage to this soul and return it to a Soul Gem state? Documentation from last time said you were able to do it, but it tired you.”

Face determined, Orihime said, “I can do it. I'll just sleep a lot tonight and tomorrow.”

Urahara nodded seriously. He gestured for Orihime to take the smart phone device, which she did. He balanced the Grief Seed's spindle on its surface and made a gesture of invitation. “Whenever you're ready, Miss Inoue.”

Orihime took a deep, steadying breath, centered herself, and held her hands out. “Sōten Kisshun: I Reject!”

The same shield manifested again. Dark mist drifted upward and evaporated against the golden light. Ten minutes slipped by before the black stone shifted color to have muddy traces of orange. Sweat beaded on Orihime's temples as the gem progressed from opaque dark mahogany to mildly translucent rust. It gained more clarity, shifting to a cloudy carnelian before amber light blossomed from the crown of the Grief Seed and flowed downward around the silver spindle like flower petals. There was a pulse of energy as the hollow space filled with orange reishi. The silver, pumpkin-shaped decoration atop the Grief Seed shimmered and filled out with orange light, the metal shifting from silver to gold. Gold settings burst out and wrapped down the egg-shaped fire opal, met at the bottom, and filled out along the bottom to form a golden cup. After one last pulse of light, Orihime's fairies disengaged their shield and wobbled back to their tired mistress. Sado and Ishida held Orihime's shoulders to steady her as she swayed and blinked.

“Orihime, are you—?” Ichigo cried.

Orihime laughed weakly and waved her hands, blushing. “I'll be fine, Ichigo, really! Ahaha, that was a workout!”

Ichigo looked unconvinced, but bit his tongue.

“My, my,” Urahara murmured wondrously. He had lifted the new Soul Gem. He tilted it this way and that, examining the unique filigree and admiring the shifting colors of the fire opal.

“It looks like the embers that were in the lanterns,” Hitsugaya said quietly.

The scientist hummed thoughtfully. “I wonder what would happen if I put this in the hand of a new gigai?”

“Don't,” barked Karin.

Urahara started in surprise. He looked at her. “Why not?”

Karin grit her teeth. “That's a soul. A person. If the other me remembered... and it drove me... drove me....” She swallowed hard. “Just don't.” Isshin wrapped his arm around her back to soothe her.

Urahara's face fell into blank seriousness. “I understand.” He quietly put the orange Soul Gem in an isolation jar like the one containing the Grief Seed Homura had brought with her. The silence drew out to awkward lengths. Urahara sighed. “Well. I think that's all I need you all for at the moment. Captain Hitsugaya, please return on... let's say Wednesday. I'll give you a list of things to look up in the Great Spirit Library. In the mean time, advise the Captain-Commander you may need the highest security clearance.” The shinigami nodded curtly. “Ichigo and company, please come home next weekend for further discussion. I will email you assignments for during the week. Except for you, Mr. Ishida. You focus on your Quincy history research.” The older teens all nodded. “Karin, Yuzu, you will go back to school. If you encounter any Familiars or Witches, please call me for backup. I would also like you to be on call for experiments in the afternoons.” At some suspicious looks, he clarified, “Ah, I mean seeing if you can do certain tasks with your 'magic', seeing if you can differentiate how certain things feel, seeing if there is a difference in your perception with and without your transformations active, demonstrating your version of Soul Burial, simple stuff like that.” Everyone settled down again. Urahara turned to Homura. “Miss Akemi, you should leave on the same train as Ichigo and his friends in the morning. I will make arrangements for Yoruichi overnight. You'll carry her with you on the train.”

Homura nodded. That was reasonable.

Urahara looked around the table appraisingly. “I think we're done here—”

“No,” Hitsugaya objected. “There is a question Captain-Commander Yamamoto posed. I think it should be addressed while we're all together.”

Everyone tensed. “Go on,” Urahara said cautiously.

Hitsugaya took a deep breath. “How did the Incubator know about the process to create a King's Key? Even the possibility of forging one at all is highly classified information. The captains and lieutenants were only told when intel indicated it was Aizen's goal. The rank and file were told Aizen saw capturing the jūreichi as the step between conquering Hueco Mundo and Soul Society.”