Chapter Text
“Fucking hell!” Kyouko swore as she, Sayaka, Homura, and Madoka landed on the ground. “Where the hell are we now?” She stood up, using her spear to help her, looked around the room, and swore again. “Shit. Guys, we’ve got a problem.” Homura was already on her feet and looking around.
“I noticed.” Homura stated dryly as she turned to help Madoka up. Sayaka also stood up, clutching her sword nervously.
“I’m so sorry! We didn’t mean to intrude!” Madoka, now on her feet, bowed. An older man with grey hair stepped forwards.
“I am Fukuzawa. How did you get in here?” Madoka glanced nervously at her friends.
“Guys?”
“How do you think we got in here?” Homura challenged tonelessly.
“I’d assume either one of you is an ability user, or you encountered someone who is an ability user.”
“What’s an ability user?” Sayaka asked, before Madoka cut in.
“Do you guys think maybe this would go a little smoother if you didn’t have weapons out? I’m not telling you guys to do anything but-”
“I suppose that’s fair.” Homura said, detransforming. Sayaka and Kyouko followed suit shortly after.
“How do you not know what ability users are when you’re clearly ability users yourself?” someone called out.
“I’ll admit I’m curious myself.” Fukuzawa said.
“How about one of you explain what an ‘ability user’ is and we’ll consider telling you what our deal is.” Kyouko replied.
“Very well. An ability is, in simple terms, a superpower. Most people don’t have one. They’re often unique to a person, although you will occasionally find people who have either incredibly similar or the same abilities.” Fukuzawa answered.
“Interesting.” Homura said. “I suppose I can explain.” She glanced at her fellow magical girls, who nodded. “We are not ability users. We are magical girls. By making a contract with the bastard himself, Kyubey, we gain magical powers we use to fight witches - which are evil magical beings - until we inevitably die young.” She left a few things out, but she figured those could wait until these strangers had earned more trust.
“Well that’s a depressing worldview. Especially since you’re, what, 12?” a woman with a butterfly in her hair said.
“We’re all 14.” Homura responded. “And yes, I’m aware. Doesn’t stop it from being true.”
“I suppose that’s fair.” the woman replied.
“What if this is dimension travel? I might’ve watched too much TV but it would make sense, yeah?” Sayaka spoke up.
“I mean, at the very least it’ll give us a working theory?” Madoka responded.
“Well, this was exciting, but the workday’s almost over.” said a brown-haired man. “Why don’t we just let them stay in one of the extra ADA apartments until we figure this out?” he turned to the new teens. “I’m Dazai, by the way.”
“Hm. Well, I don’t consider myself to be the kind of person who would turn you kids out onto the street, especially after you just found yourself in what might be an entirely new dimension without any documents.”
“The ADA?” Homura asked.
“That’s us. The Armed Detective Agency. The entire agency is those you see in this room. We’re an organization of mostly gifted who solve crimes, particularly the ones the police can’t. Though I suppose Dazai has something of a point. We can talk more tomorrow. Someone will stop by where you’re staying with dinner.”
“What’s the catch?” Kyouko asked warily.
“There isn’t one. Although I do hope you’ll stick around so we can try to get this mess sorted out.”
“Fine. Whatever. I reserve the right to stab any and all of you if you try anything. Oh yeah, and I’m Kyouko. Sakura Kyouko.”
“I’m Miki Sayaka!”
“Akemi Homura.”
“Kaname Madoka!”
– - –
“Well, this is certainly bizarre.” Sayaka said as she sat down heavily on the floor.
“Quite. While we should come up with something of a game plan moving forwards, I admit we don’t have enough information about this…‘armed detective agency’ to formulate enough of a plan to be sustainable.” Homura said. “For now, I suggest we attempt to relax and recharge. Who knows what will await us tomorrow.”
– - –
There was a knock on the door.
“I’ll get it!” Sayaka said, getting up and walking over, opening the door to find a teen roughly a little older than her holding something in a container.
“I’m Kenji! It’s nice to meet you all! I brought dinner!”
“Oh! Thank you! It’s nice to meet you too! Would you like to come in?”
“No, thank you!”
“That’s alright!” Sayaka chirped, closing the door after the girl had started walking away.