This Space We Share

Madoka has a bad habit of listening to the voice in her head. The one that constantly berates her and puts her down, convincing her that the only worth she has is that which she can be of others. But when a strange new transfer student appears and invites her out after school, she unwillingly finds herself the subject of an unwavering devotion that is more comforting than it has any right to be.
And worse, there's no escape.

Notes:

This is a very rough draft. I’m normally the type to agonize for hours over a single paragraph, but with this one I challenged myself to get it out as quickly as possible, without worrying about the quality. But that also means its… pretty bad.
Unrelatedly, this also marks the single longest chapter I’ve every written.
I still plan to revise and edit this, but I figured I’d post it anyway since I haven’t posted anything in, uh, years. I also have a concrete beginning and end for this one, unlike my other stories, so I’ll be focusing on this for the time being since I would like to have at least one story actually completed under my belt.
I won’t be updating this until I’ve actually finished it, though. I’m planning to have it done by the end of the year, so think of this as a sort of preview of what’s to come. Anyway, enjoy.

Chapter Text

It was quiet.

Mostly.

The rain had stopped.

The clouds were slowly fading away.

It was so, so cold.

She thought it’d hurt more.

She tried to move her legs, but couldn’t seem manage it.

She wasn’t sure she still had them.

Water splashed against her face, a steady drip, drip, drip.

It wasn’t rain.

Arms encircled her, warm and inviting, vainly fighting back against the unforgiving chill reaching into her bones.

It was nice, being held. She’d always liked hugs.

She wished she could have more of them.

(Bad girl, came a whisper in her mind. No wishing for you. You promised, remember?)

Ah. She had promised, hadn’t she? But she supposed it didn’t matter much now. She didn’t have to strength to wish for much of anything, anymore.

Somehow, she didn’t think this was the ending that girl was hoping for.

She was shaking.

Or being shaken?

Maybe it was both.

The arms pulled her in, tight against the body of the one they belonged to.

Too tight, almost.

She didn’t mind.

She just wished she could hold her back.

(Bad girl, said the voice in her head. It sounded like her own. You don’t deserve a wish like that. You don’t deserve a girl like her.)

There was a voice in her ears as well. Not her own.

It wasn’t saying anything at all.

It was just crying.

Sobbing.

Wailing.

Just the sound of it hurt.

A lot.

Sort of like the stick of rebar sticking out of her stomach.

But worse.

Ah, that’s where the shaking was coming from, wasn’t it?

She was pressed so tightly against her, she could feel their bodies shudder in sync.

It was almost beautiful. Romantic, even.

What a sickening thought to have.

(You’re not worth it. She’s done so much for you, and this is what you give her in return. She deserves so much more than your worthless self.)

Maybe.

Definitely.

But even so, she can’t help but feel a little happy.

After all, someone so wonderful was crying over a girl as pathetic as her.

She couldn’t give anything back?

She looked up at the girl holding her so desperately.

Those gorgeous violet eyes awash with tears.

Her face twisted into the most heart-wrenching expression she had ever seen.

She wanted to reach out.

To wipe those tears away from her precious eyes.

To cradle that lovely head in her hands.

She tried.

Her hand rose, slowly, shakily.

It never found its way.

Madoka’s heart had leaped up into her throat before she had even fully woken. She squeezed her stuffed rabbit tight enough that the seams threatened to pop. For some reason, she could hardly breathe, only managing short, strangled gasps, and her eyes were filled to the brim with tears.

A dream? She had just been dreaming? But it all felt so…

So what?

She couldn’t quite remember. There had been… water? And… arms?

Ah, someone had been holding her. Someone, a girl, had wrapped her up in their arms and clung to her so desperately, as though the world would fall apart if she let go for even a moment. Madoka’s breath steadied as she remembered, but the aching feeling in her chest lingered.

She shuddered as the memory of the girl’s wailing echoed in her head. Madoka wasn’t sure she’d ever heard such an agonized sound come from another human being before. It made her want to comfort the girl, to hold her back just as tight and tell her that everything would be okay. Anything to cease those tears.

Instead she squeezed her rabbit tighter, pressing her face into soft fabric and nuzzling the stuffed animal to try and distract herself from that bitter yearning that had lodged itself in her chest. Why on earth did she have a dream like that? A strange girl holding her, crying over her, like she was the most precious thing in the world? It was…

…

Nice.

Well, it was mostly sad. She’d have to wash her rabbit after this; it was nearly soaked in tears. But the thought of someone caring for her so deeply and vehemently that they’d weep so brazenly… it felt nice.

Immediately, she felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She shouldn’t be having thoughts like that. There were so many wonderful people in her life, her parents, Tatsuya, Sayaka and Hitomi. Any and all of them would be devastated if anything happened to her, she knew. It was an awful thought to think that they wouldn’t cry just as hard if she had simply gone and died like her dream seemed to suggest.

(But they’ll get over it soon enough, won’t they?)

Madoka’s grip on her rabbit tightened again.

(They’ll grieve and mourn, and keep on living. And then you’ll fade into just a memory. Too bad you don’t have a girl like the one in your dream. You must have been her everything.)

Madoka took a deep, steadying breath, then slowly let it out. She should really get ready for school. Languishing in bed, thinking about a silly dream. She was going to be late at this rate.

Even so, it took her a long time to pry herself from her bedsheets. She had to wipe the tears from her eyes more than once. It seemed like her tear ducts were determined to keep her eyes well-lubricated this morning. As for that twisting feeling in her chest… Well, if she ignored it long enough, it would surely go away on its own, right?

Normally she’d go and wake her Mama by now, but… she didn’t think she could actually muster up the energy today. It might have been too late for that anyway. Hopefully Tatsuya didn’t have too much trouble on his own.

Instead she lumbered over to her closet to get dressed. It should have been a simple task, and technically it was. But when she pulled out her undershirt and skirt, something gave her pause. At first, she wasn’t quite sure what was wrong with the sight before her, but when her eyes idly went looking for her favorite blouse, she realized what it was.

Her clothes were missing. Not just her blouse, but a few of her t-shirts as well as her skirts.

…

It wasn’t laundry day, was it? Her laundry basket was empty, but… maybe they were in the wash? But Papa always did the laundry in the evening…

She cast her gaze out around her room, as if the missing articles might have been simply tossed carelessly into a corner or two, but she found it as clean as ever. A little too clean, actually? She wasn’t a messy person, but she had a tendency to leave her stuffed animals strewn about the place unless she took the time to actually organize them. Which she hadn’t done in a while. Yet despite that, she found most of them tucked neatly away on their shelves, right where they belonged.

Most of them. It wasn’t obvious at first glance, packed together as they were, but some of them were missing as well.

Did Mama or Papa clean up for her? They never did that. They always said it was her responsibility to keep her room tidy. And that didn’t explain where her clothes went…

For a fleeting moment, Madoka wondered if someone had broken in and stolen them. But she quickly shook that thought from her head. Who on earth would break into a house just to steal a few shirts and stuffed animals? That was absurd.

(Besides, who’d want to steal from you?)

With a sigh, Madoka resolved to simply ask her parents if they knew what happened. She probably just misplaced them is all.

She finished dressing for the morning and headed to the bathroom, a little surprised to see her Mama was already there, nearly dressed and putting on makeup. Madoka tried to greet her with her usual enthusiasm, but couldn’t quite muster the energy.

“Oh dear,” her mother called out in concern while brushing over her cheeks. “Are you alright, Madoka? Your eyes are all red.”

Madoka blinked a few times and rubbed at them before she could stop herself. They did feel a little raw. “Ah, yes, Mama. I just, um, had a bad dream. It’s no big deal.” She tried to say it like she meant it.

“Ah,” Mama said sympathetically. She took a moment to pick out an eyeliner before adding, “Do you want to talk about it? Must have been pretty rough if you were crying like that.”

(Tell her you died. Maybe she’ll cry for you. Probably not, though.)

Madoka flinched, then tried to disguise it with a yawn. Luckily Mama was too focused on her own reflection to notice. “N-no, I’m fine. Really. I don’t even remember it much.”

Mama hummed in acknowledgment. “If you’re sure,” she said, but didn’t add anything else, so Madoka started brushing her teeth while Mama put the finishing touches on her makeup.

Somehow, Madoka found their morning ritual to be a little awkward. Maybe because neither of them were speaking? Usually Mama would take the time to ask how she’d been lately, but since Madoka had woken up so late, Mama was already about done. There wasn’t time to chat before Mama was putting away her makeup. “All set,” she announced, taking a moment to admire herself in the mirror with a smile.

Madoka admired her as well. Maybe she was biased, but Madoka had always thought her Mama was the prettiest woman she knew. She was a little jealous, too. She wished she had the sort of confidence to look at herself in the mirror and smile at what she saw.

Mama saw her looking and gave her a wink. “I’ll head downstairs. Don’t take too long or you’ll miss your breakfast, alright Madoka?”

Madoka blushed, feeling embarrassed but not entirely sure why. “Ah, um, yes Mama. Sorry for waking up so late.”

Mama just grinned and ruffled her hair. “No need to apologize. That sort of thing can’t be helped every once in a while. Now, I’ll see you downstairs. Mama’s gotta get her coffee.” With that, she turned and made her way out of the bathroom.

Madoka watched her leave, unable to help the frown that formed on her face. She turned to look back at the mirror, and at the reflection looking back.

Plain, pink hair.

Plain, dull eyes.

Plain, boring face.

Nothing worth admiring at all.

She sighed and looked away, spitting out the toothpaste and washing out her mouth. She really was nothing like her Mama.

The rest of her morning ritual went by in silence. That awful ache in her chest that still hadn’t gone away only seemed to get worse every time she looked too hard in the mirror, so she stopped doing that. When it came time to tie up her hair in the usual style, she briefly debated on which ribbons to use. She normally wore yellow ones, but she had bought some nice red ones recently. The only problem was that she hadn’t found the courage to wear them yet. They were kind of flashy, and the thought of actually wearing them was kind of embarrassing. But still, it’d be a waste not to, right? What would be the point of buying them if she never wore them?

(They won’t make you any prettier. You can’t hide yourself behind a fancy ribbon.)

With a long sigh, Madoka curled her fingers around the yellow ribbons and tied them in her hair with numb, practiced movements. She should probably just return the red ones. The receipt was probably still sitting crumpled up in her trash can… She had made plans to go the mall with Sayaka and Hitomi today. She could do it then.

Or maybe she’d give them to Hitomi. They’d look nice on her.

She stuffed the superfluous ribbons into her uniform pocket and walked out of the bathroom, not bothering to check if she’d tied up her hair evenly. It wasn’t like it mattered either way.

The faint scent of coffee and eggs wafted up the stairs as Madoka descended. Normally the smell would make her stomach gurgle in hunger, but today she only felt a little bit queasy. Her Papa greeted her as she entered the dining room, smiling genially from the kitchen as usual. “Good morning, Madoka! Your breakfast is already waiting for you at the table.”

Madoka tired to smile back, but she was pretty sure it came out more as a grimace. “Th-thank you, Papa,” she said, and took her seat at the table across from Mama, who was reading the morning paper while sipping her coffee. Tatsuya was there as well, happily munching on a piece of toast. She looked down at her plate of omurice and saw Papa had drawn a cute little rabbit’s face with the ketchup, with floppy ears and everything.

Papa didn’t usually draw pictures like that, and Madoka guessed that he had this time because Mama told him about her nightmare and he wanted to cheer her up. It was a sweet gesture. It was, but…

For some reason, her stomach still twisted at the sight of it.

“Madoka?”

Madoka startled at someone addressing her and looked up to see Mama peering at her from over the newspaper. “Huh? What is it Mama?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” she asked, voice laden with concern. “You seem pretty out of it this morning. And you’ve been staring at your food for the past two minutes.”

“Ah, um, I was just admiring it!” Madoka stammered out a quick, obvious lie. She winced a little at her own clumsy excuse, but soldiered on regardless, as if doing so would make it more believable. “It looks delicious, Papa! Thank you!” She tried to drive the point home by picking up her fork and immediately digging in, shoveling the mix of rice and eggs into her mouth with hollow fervor.

One look at the both of them told her neither of them were buying it. “If you’re feeling unwell, Madoka, you can stay home from school today,” Papa said, giving her a worried look.

Mama nodded in agreement, looking similarly worried. “You’re a good girl, Madoka. We don’t mind you taking a day off to rest, if you need it. There’s no need to push yourself.”

Madoka’s grip on her fork tightened and she swallowed the food, trying not to gag as she felt her throat tighten uncomfortably.

(You? A good girl? You can’t even enjoy the breakfast your father so lovingly made for you.)

“N-no, I’m fine! I promise!” she insisted, shaking her head. She wasn’t going to worry them just because she got all emotional over a scary dream. “I’m just a little tired, still, really. I’ll be better wake up a little.”

(And now you’re lying straight to their faces. No wonder they don’t trust you.)

Her breath hitched, and she had to blink several times to fight back the sudden well of tears forming in her eyes. She stood abruptly, dropping her fork onto the table. “I- I need to get going. I’m going to be late for school,” she declared, before rushing towards the front door to put her shoes on.

Mama and Papa blinked at the sudden movement and called after her. “Madoka? You haven’t even finished your breakfast yet!”

Madoka tired to reply, but nearly choked as a sob threatened to escape her throat. So she clenched her jaw shut and ignored them, finished sliding her shoes on and pried opened the front door.

“Madoka!” Came the concerned cry again. “Madoka, what on earth is-”

But the rest was cut off as Madoka shut the door closed and took off running. By the time it was open again with her parents calling after her, she was already turning the corner, away and out of sight.

She ran a little longer, but she was never very athletic in the first place. It wasn’t long before her lung were burning with exertion, and soon after she stopped to rest against a wall. She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore, and the fell in big, ugly streaks down her cheeks. She wiped at them uselessly, soft sobs erupting from her chest every so often.

What was wrong with her?

(Now you’ve done it.)

Why couldn’t she just be normal?

(If they didn’t think so before, they certainly think something is wrong now.)

Was she really so weak that one weird dream was enough to undo her?

(Now they’ll be worrying about you all day.)

Her parents were wonderful, hard-working people. Mama was always so busy with work, and Papa had a whole house to manage, as well as Tatsuya. They shouldn’t have to waste their time worrying about their silly, stupid daughter.

(But that’s all you’re good for. Burdening others with your pitiful self.)

She couldn’t even pretend properly. Pretend that she was a good, happy girl who always did what she was told. No, she had to go and mess even that up, let them see just how pathetic she really was. And for what? A dream?

A silly, ridiculous, wonderful dream.

The bitter yearning in her chest exploded into an agony so potent it nearly knocked the wind out of her. She slid down the wall, burying her face in her hands as she let out another sob.

She wanted someone like that.

She wanted someone to hold her, to have someone to hold.

Someone who would cry for her like she was the only thing that mattered.

Someone who would look at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

She was awful. She had so many people who loved her, who sacrificed so much for her, and still she wasn’t satisfied. She was such a selfish, awful girl. She didn’t deserve them. She didn’t deserve such a loving family or her wonderful friends.

She didn’t deserve any of them.

As much as she might have liked to, she couldn’t spend all morning crying by the side of the road. If she didn’t get moving soon, she would be late, and that would only give her parents even more to worry about. It took some time and quite a lot of effort to quiet her brain and stop her tears from flowing, but when she finally managed to dry her face and quiet her sobs, she stood and continued on her way to school. It wasn’t a long walk, but she kept a hurried pace just in case.

She usually met with Sayaka and Hitomi on the way, but it seemed with how late she was, they went on without her. Truthfully, she was glad for that. Madoka didn’t think she was able to put up a very good front of pretending to be normal right that moment. It also meant the walk was lonelier than normal, but that was fine. Better, even, since it gave her more time to steady herself. The ache in her chest never fully went away, but by the time she reached the school, she was able to mostly put it out of her mind.

She reached her homeroom class just in the nick of time, the bell ringing right as Madoka crossed the threshold into the classroom. Sayaka noticed her arrival and gave her a look of mixed relief and concern, obviously wondering where she’d been. Madoka just waved her off with a smile, this one feeling much more stable than her previous attempts. She did the same with Hitomi when the girl saw her a moment later before taking her seat as if nothing was wrong. Luckily she didn’t have to endure questions from Sayaka, who sat just diagonally across from her, since it didn’t take long after class began until Saotome-sensei began ranting about her usual love troubles. Madoka usually found her rants kind of amusing, if a little heartbreaking. Saotome-sensei was a wonderful teacher, and a wonderful person. She deserved someone in her life who loved her.

(Unlike you.)

But this time she mostly just tuned it out, staring blankly at her desk. The last thing she wanted was to have another breakdown in the middle of class, so most of her attention was focused on trying on to think of nothing at all. Ever since waking from her dream, her brain had been so… loud. It was usually something she could ignore, but it had been particularly insistent on making itself known this morning.

So she didn’t bother looking up when Saotome-sensei finished her rant and informed them all of a new transfer student.

She didn’t look up when she heard the click-clack of shoes on the tiled floor.

She didn’t look up when the students erupted in whispered murmurs.

But then a gentle voice pierced through it all and landed softly on her ears.

“My name is Akemi Homura. I look forward to getting along with you.”

The sound sent jolt through Madoka’s body, and she found herself turning towards the source without even realizing.

And then she froze in place.

She was gorgeous. Long, flowing black hair, pale, silky smooth skin, and piercing, violet eyes.

It was the girl from her dream.

For a moment, Madoka wondered if she was hallucinating, because she couldn’t imagine what else it could be. There was no way the girl that had invaded her dreams and so swiftly captured Madoka’s heart could actually be here, in real life.

Yet she was. Standing in front of the class.

Staring right at Madoka.

Madoka’s breath seized. Her heart started pounding relentlessly inside her chest, and she felt her cheeks warm with a blush. Why? Why was such a beautiful girl staring at her? Did her dream actually mean something? But what? She had never seen this girl before now… had she? But why else would she be staring right at her? She was still staring!

Finally, Madoka could no longer withstand the pressure of this girl’s gaze and dropped her head, embarrassment and confusing running rampant through her head. Eventually, the girl, Homura, took her seat, thankfully nowhere near Madoka. She didn’t think her heart could take being so close to such a pretty girl, certainly not this one. But with her back now to her, she could stop herself from taking peeks at the transfer student. She couldn’t make sense of it. Maybe she could chalk it up to a weird dream if it had happened after she met Homura, but before? How was that even possible?

It wasn’t long before Saotome-sensei finished taking attendance and left them to their own devices. Unsurprisingly, is wasn’t long before Homura was swarmed with curious girls asking questions and vying for her attention. Hell, even Madoka might have been tempted to try and talk to her, if it wasn’t for the fact that she was almost guaranteed to make a fool of herself.

Not that she had the chance to either way, since Sayaka pounced on her the moment they were let loose, with Hitomi in tow.

“Madoka!” She cried, pulling the pink-haired girl into a rough hug. Madoka stiffened a little at the contact. Normally she enjoyed Sayaka’s hugs, but today it felt a little… off.

Well, this whole morning had been one big mess, so she put it out of her mind and tried to loosen up. Hopefully Sayaka wouldn’t notice anything.

“Where were you this morning?” Sayaka asked, pulling away from the hug and giving her a concerned look. “I almost thought you weren’t gonna show up!”

“Indeed. I was beginning to wonder if you were perhaps sick,” Hitomi added, much more subdued but still looking worried. “Did something happen?”

Madoka just laughed a little, trying her best to brush them off as casually as she could. “No, nothing happened. I just overslept is all. It’s kind of embarrassing, hehe.”

Luckily she had gotten a much better hold on her emotions since this morning, so the two of them accepted the excuse without a fuss.

“Well, I’m glad nothing’s wrong, at least,” Sayaka told her before turning the topic to the obvious elephant in the room. “But, hey, what with that transfer student? You know her, Madoka?”

“Eh?” Madoka startled a little at the question. “N-no, I don’t?” It came out as more of a question than she intended it to. That was the obvious answer, but for some reason it sounded like a lie. “Why do you ask?”

Sayaka just gave her a look like it was obvious. “You kidding? She was glaring at you like you personally kicked her puppy. Which is crazy ‘cuz, you know, you’re you.”

Madoka pouted a little, somehow offended. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But Sayaka grinned, neglecting to answer. “Still, she’s certainly a beauty, isn’t she? You might start getting some competition, Hitomi.”

Hitomi huffed, a trace of haughtiness in her tone that Madoka was fairly certain she hadn’t intended. “It isn’t like I ask for all those love letters. Honestly, if she take some attention away from me, I would be quite relieved.”

“Sure, sure,” Sayaka said. “Whatever you say, Miss Popular. And anyway, you still haven’t answer me, Madoka. You have any idea why she was glaring at you like that?”

“She wasn’t glaring!” Madoka said, suddenly defensive. Sayaka looked a little startled at her sudden defense, and Madoka shrunk back into her seat, cheeks flaring. “I mean, um, it didn’t look like that to me?”

Sayaka looked doubtful, casting her gaze over to where the new girl was sitting. “Sure looked that way to me. ‘Sides, even if it wasn’t a glare, she was still lookin’ your way something fierce. You sure you don’t know her?”

Madoka followed her gaze to where the transfer student was sitting. From way back here, she didn’t have a good view, only catching brief glimpses of her long, dark hair between the multitude of girls surrounding her.

The sensation of a bitter cold rushed through her body, and her the sound of anguished wailing reached her ears.

Madoka flinched as the memory of the dream resurfaced, and quickly tried to suppress it. She shook her head and made to respond to Sayaka, when something drew her attention. She couldn’t hear from so far away, but she saw Homura with a hand pressed against her head, as if in pain.

Before she even realized, Madoka was on her feet and moving towards the new girl. Some part of her registered Sayaka and Hitomi calling after her, but Madoka was too busy panicking to hear them properly. What on earth was she doing!? She did not have the stones to approach such a pretty, confident-looking girl, especially on a day like today!

But when she saw Homura like that… her legs just moved before her mind caught up with them, and she found herself approaching Homura.

Unfortunately, that did not mean her brain suddenly started working, so when she neared Homura’s desk, she was still pitifully out of anything to say. She found herself hovering nearby, a desperate urge to call out to the transfer student, yet unable to say anything at all.

Of course, the girls surrounding Homura noticed her approach, and inevitably drew attention to her.

“Kaname-san?” One of the girls questioned. “Did you need something?”

Madoka’s mouth opened uselessly, unable to find the words. Worse, the girl in question turned to face her directly, violet eyes meeting her own, and the only sound Madoka could make in that moment was an embarrassing squeak.

“Kaname Madoka-san.” Homura said her name, and Madoka briefly felt inexplicably dizzy, but before she could muster a reply, Homura continued. “You are this class’s health representative, yes?”

A question. She could answer this! She nodded her head, perhaps a little too quickly. “Y-yes!”

Homura nodded lightly, as if confirming her suspicions. “You have good timing. I’ve grown something of a headache. Would you mind accompanying me to the nurse’s office?”

Madoka inhaled sharply. Take the pretty new girl to the nurse’s office. That… she could do that! It was easy! Should couldn’t possibly mess that up!

(But if anyone could, it’s you.)

“Y-yes, of course!” Madoka said, making every effort to push false bravado into her voice. It was fine. She could do this! “I’d be more than happy to show you the way, Homura-chan!”

A beat of silence passed, leaving Madoka briefly confused before the mortifying realization of what she’d just said came over her. Her cheeks burned in humiliation and she frantically waved her hands around, as if it could erase the sin she’d just committed. “I-I-I’m so sorry, Akemi-san! I d-don’t know why I… I mean, I didn’t m-mean to-“

But her desperate rambling was cut off with a quick, single sentence. “It’s fine.”

Madoka paused, cheeks red-hot and slightly panting, and looked at Homura. Her face was inscrutable, without a single shred of emotion on her face. Did her blunder not offend Homura? Or was she just not showing it? “Eh?”

Homura wasn’t looking directly at her. She didn’t seemed to be looking at anything all, in fact. “I don’t mind if you call me Homura,” was all she said.

That sure wasn’t doing anything to make her blush go away.

Before Madoka could respond either way, the other girls cut in with excited tones. “Oh, me too? Can I call you Homura as well?”

A few others followed with similar requests, but Homura interrupted them, her face going hard and her voice ice-cold. “No. Kaname-san is the only one with my permission to do so.”

A hush fell over the crowd at Homura’s frosty tone, the unspoken question hanging in the air. Why her?

Madoka also wanted to know.

But Homura stood then, clearly done conversing. “Let’s be going, Kaname-san.” Without even looking back, Homura swiftly made her way out of the classroom, and Madoka was left scrambling to catch up.

Homura kept a steady but relentless pace through the halls. Madoka followed closely after, still shriveling from the embarrassment from earlier. Homura said it was fine, but… “I’m sorry again, Akemi-san. I really don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have been so forward, earlier.”

Homura glanced at her, pace not slowing at all. “There’s no need to apologize. I told you I don’t mind. I would prefer it, in fact.”

Madoka flushed once more. “Th-then, you can call me Madoka!” she blurted before her nerves could get the better of her.

There was pause just long enough for Madoka to wonder if she’d stumbled her way into another blunder before Homura replied. “As you wish, Madoka.”

Madoka let out another squeak. No honorifics! Her face had surely never been so red before… but… to be on a first name basis with Homura so soon… it should feel strange, but Madoka found herself very pleased with this turn of events.

But then the silence returned, and Madoka grasped for something to say, uncharacteristically determined to keep the conversation going. She wanted to talk with Homura more…

When they came upon an intersection in the hallway, she found at least one more thing to say. “Ah! The nurse’s office is-”

Or at least, she thought she did. But before Madoka could finish her sentence, Homura was already turning down correct hallway. “This way, yes?”

“Ah, um, yes,” Madoka answered uncertainly. “Do- do you perhaps already know the way to the nurse’s office, Homura-chan?” she questioned. But if that was the case, why ask Madoka to accompany her?

But Homura did not answer. The silence stretched between them, to the point that Madoka began to wonder if Homura simply did not hear the question. She fidgeted nervously with her hands, wondering if she should ask it again, or maybe something else entirely. But no matter how her mind raced, she could not think of anything to say.

Their walk drew them further and further from the crowds of students, and Madoka felt increasingly awkward. She should really say something! Should she ask about her old school? Where she transfered from? Or maybe about her family? Something to get to know the other girl… or would that be too strange? What if she asked something insensitive?

But then, suddenly, the silence was broken by none other than Homura herself. “Do you mind if I ask you an odd question?”

Madoka nearly fainted with relief. “Yes!” she blurted, before reigning herself if. “I mean… No, I don’t mind. What is it, Homura-chan?”

Another beat of silence passed, the only sound between them being their repeated footsteps, before Homura continued. “Say that a friend of yours is in danger. This friend is very dear to you, so much so that you would gladly sacrifice yourself to keep her safe. Yet your friend does not take your warnings to heart and continues to put herself in harms way. You cannot fully protect her, and she refuses to protect herself. The only way to keep her safe it to do something drastic, something that your friend may even come to hate you for. What would you do in this situation?”

Madoka blinked several times, taken off-guard. She certainly wasn’t expecting a question like that, and didn’t entirely know what to make of it. But still, Homura seemed quite earnest in asking it, so Madoka responded in kind. She looked down, thinking the question over. What would she do?

But thinking had never been her strong suit, and after several moment in silence, Madoka could only stammer in defeat. “I… I don’t know. Is that really the only way? Is there really no way to take my warnings seriously?”

Homura merely nodded once. “You may assume that you’ve tried to warn her in every conceivable way.”

Madoka frowned, not liking this scenario. She imagined Sayaka doing something dangerous, like walking on top of a road barrier, and herself unable to convince her to come down. In that case, should she do something drastic like pull her down, even if it meant causing a few cuts and bruises? Surely that’s better than falling into the road, right?

Eventually, Madoka answered, her voice hesitant. “I… I guess I’d want to do whatever it takes to keep her safe… I don’t think I could bring myself to do anything too bad, though…”

At her response, Homura abruptly stopped in the middle of the hallway. Madoka startled a little at the suddenness of it, and looked at Homura. Homura’s eyes were closed.

“Homura-chan?” Madoka questions, a little concerned.

“So that’s your answer,” Homura said, still not moving from her spot. “I’m relieved.”

“Homura-chan?” Madoka asked again, concern growing. A worry began to grow in her chest, and she couldn’t help but vocalize it. “Homura-chan, is… is someone you know in danger? Do you need help?”

Then Homura’s eyes opened, and she once again stared directly into Madoka’s eyes. She was silent for a moment, and Madoka flushed under her intense stare. But eventually, Homura turned her gaze away, her hand coming up to her head like it had earlier in class. “Apologies, Madoka. I get a little in my head when I’m not feeling too well. I did not mean to drag you into my philosophizing. You do not need to worry.”

“O-oh,” Madoka stammered. “So no one’s in trouble? That a relief.”

Homura did not respond to that statement, instead continuing down the hall towards the nurse’s office. Madoka hurried after her, still a little puzzled, but glad that she seemed to be getting along with Homura, even if it was a little awkward and confusing.

“I really don’t mind talking about that sort of thing, Homura-chan! I can’t promise I can give good answers, though.”

Homura glanced her way. “Not at all, Madoka. It’s the nature of those types of questions; there are no wrong answers.”

Rubbing the back of her head, Madoka felt embarrassed for some reason. “A-ah, is that so?” she said, not sure what else to say.

Luckily Homura continued. “Although, if you are willing, I would not mind continuing to discuss it with you. Now is not ideal, however. After school, perhaps?”

Madoka jumped at the suggestion, face burning and her heart beginning to race even faster than it already was. Homura was inviting her to hang out after school already!? “Ah? Um- I think I would like that… I, um, already have plans to go to the mall with my friends. Maybe you can join us!” Madoka brighten and clasped her hands together as the idea occurred to her. She would love to introduce Homura to her friends!

But her mood dropped when Homura shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I would not be very comfortable meeting too many people at once. Perhaps some other day, when I’ve come to know you more.”

The statement made Madoka blush. Homura seemed so sure of their friendship already! She was already talking like they would be good friends! She was so happy! “T-then! How about after? I, um, think I can still make some time after the mall. We could meet up then, if that’s okay?”

At that, Homura nodded. “I would very much like that. I don’t have a phone, so you won’t be able to contact me. I’ll give you an address where we can meet after you’re done spending time with your friends.”

So excited Madoka was, that she didn’t once consider how strange that request was. She merely beamed at Homura as they reached the nurse’s office and happily accepted the slip of paper with the address written on it. “I’m looking forward to it, Homura-chan!”

Homura nodded. “I as well. But you’d better get back to class, Madoka. I’ll be okay now that we’ve reached to nurse’s office. I’ll rest here until I’ve recovered.”

Madoka nodded in acknowledgment, smiling happily. “Okay, Homura-chan. I’ll see you later!” She started to leave, but Homura called her again, halting her suddenly.

“Madoka.”

“Oh, um, yes? Did you need anything else?”

Homura was silent for a moment, her eyes drifting to the side. Madoka waited patiently, beginning to think that this was just how Homura was. But eventually she continued. “Would you mind keeping our meeting a secret for now? Some of our classmates seem quite pushy, and I worry they would cause you trouble if they learned we are meeting later.”

Madoka’s eyes widened, remembered that first girl who asked to call Homura by her first name. She didn’t think any of them would do something terrible, but she could see them becoming… jealous, maybe? So Madoka nodded her assent. “I didn’t think of that! Okay, I won’t tell anyone, Homura-chan.”

“Thank you,” Homura said gratefully. “I appreciate that. Now, I’ll see back in class. Goodbye, Madoka.”

Madoka blinked at the sudden dismissal, a little disappointed, but mostly excited. “I’ll see you later, Homura-chan!!” Madoka exclaimed, waving wildly back at Homura with a beaming smile on her face.

Homura waved back demurely. Her face was still utterly blank, but Madoka didn’t mind. Against all odds, it seemed that Madoka made a new friend.

Madoka spent the rest of the day in giddy excitement. Not even the shadow of this morning’s dream could bring down her mood. Neither did it help that, as school went on, Homura only continued to show just how cool she was. She effortlessly answered questions in math class, spoke with a perfect accent in English, and bounded all of them in P.E. Madoka was pretty sure she even set a new record for the high jump! It seemed Homura could do anything! And through the whole day, Madoka would frequently catch Homura’s eye, and Homura would stare back with that intense gaze of hers, frequently sending Madoka into blushing fits. When Madoka found the courage to wave at her, Homura would respond with a single nod of acknowledgment, her face remaining completely devoid of emotion. But Madoka didn’t mind! As cool as she was, Madoka thought that Homura was just more shy than she let on, and didn’t like to express herself. Or maybe she just didn’t know how?

Either way, Madoka thought it was cute!

As school came to a close and her meeting with Homura drew nearer, Madoka simply couldn’t contain her excitement. It was noticeable enough that both Sayaka and Hitomi inevitably noticed, though Madoka really hadn’t been expecting to hide it from them.

“Seriously, what’s got you all fidgety?” Sayaka asked her as the three of them made their way to the mall. “You’ve been like this all day.”

“Ehehe, I’m just excited, is all!” Madoka deflected. She was never very good at lying, but it technically wasn’t a lie. She had wanted to tell her friends about Homura right away, but her promise to keep it a secret stayed her hand. It wasn’t that she thought either of her friends would disapprove of Homura, or cause trouble like some of her classmates might, but simply that she didn’t want to break a promise to her new friend. She hadn’t thought to make caveats for Sayaka and Hitomi when she promised to keep their meeting a secret, and for now, at least, she’d rather not accidentally do anything to make her new friend uncomfortable. It was only for a short time, anyway! Just until Homura was more comfortable.

So neither of her friends new of her plans to meet Homura. It was hard not to tell them, but she persevered.

(Bad girl. Are you going to break your promise so soon? You’re a terrible friend.)

But still, Homura occupied her mind even as she joined her friends on their shopping trip. It was understandable, in a way, but she couldn’t help but feel bad that she couldn’t focus on spending time with her friends. Their meeting wasn’t until later, so there was no use fretting about it until then anyway, right?

So she tried to put the raven-haired girl out of her mind for now, and focus on keeping her friends company at they went through varies stores and browsed their products. She had a bit of her allowance left over, so buying something small wasn’t out of the question, if anything caught her eye. Maybe she could buy some less flashy ribbons…

Or maybe she could get Homura something! Right, bringing a housewarming gift on their first meeting was just good manners! She should definitely get Homura something! Or, wait, did the address Homura give her lead to her house? That hadn’t exactly been clear… It could easily be a café or something, right? Why did she assume it was Homura’s home?

Well, either way, she should get something for Homura! She just had to find something the stoic girl would like… But she didn’t know much of anything about her yet, so that might be pretty hard…

Hmm…

Madoka kept an eye out for anything Homura might like, but as they went from store to store, nothing seemed suitable. Maybe she should head to the store where bought her ribbons and return them for a refund. Having a bigger budget would give her more options, and Homura surely deserved something nice! They were still stuffed in her pocket, it shouldn’t be a problem…

Ah, but she didn’t have the receipt! She had decided to give them to Hitomi, she she didn’t bother fishing it out of the trash! She couldn’t return them without that…

Although…

Somewhat surreptitiously, Madoka discreetly pulled the red ribbons out of her pocket while Sayaka and Hitomi were distracted with window-shopping. She ran them along her fingers, eyeing them contemplatively. They really were nice ribbons. Too nice for someone like Madoka. And now that she thought of it, they didn’t really match Hitomi’s green hair. She was sure her friend could make them work, but…

They would look wonderful on Homura. She already wore a headband, didn’t she? That looked nice as well, but Madoka thought these ribbons would look good on her too. They would certainly suit her much more than Madoka.

Alright then, it’s decided! Madoka would give the ribbons to Homura! Although that meant Madoka still had money to spend…

Well, she could always just buy another stuffed animal. Maybe Homura would like one as well!

Thoughts resolved, Madoka shoved the ribbons back into her pocket and rejoined her friends, guiding them towards the store that housed all her favorite stuffed animals. She browsed their stock for a while, but ultimately settled on something small: a little black stuffed cat. She didn’t know if Homura would like it, but Madoka thought it was very cute, and something so small surely wouldn’t trouble her much even if she wasn’t fond of plushies.

It was afterwards when the three of them decided to get something to eat. They all picked something at the cafeteria and sat down to eat when Sayaka decided to bring up Homura on her own again.

“Seriously,” Sayaka said, chomping on a fry. “That girl gives me the creeps. She was staring at you all day like you’re a piece of meat? Like, what’s her damage?

Madoka frowned at her friend. “Sayaka-chan, that’s not nice. Homura-chan is very kind. I think she’s just shy.”

Sayaka snorted in disbelief. “Little miss perfect? Shy? I seriously doubt that. She took every chance she had to show off during class.”

Madoka’s frowned deepened. She really didn’t like the way Sayaka was talking about Homura… “That’s not fair, Sayaka-chan. You can’t be upset with her just because she’s talented. She probably worked really hard to get so good. You shouldn’t judge her like that!”

Sayaka raised a brow, then pointed a fry towards Madoka. “And you,” she said, “are awfully defensive about someone you just met. What did you guys talk about on your little trip to the nurse’s office? Did you have some kind of heart-to-heart? Why’d you even offer like that, anyway. That’s not like you.”

Madoka blushed. Honestly, even she didn’t know what possessed her to approach Homura like that. She was glad she did, though. “I told you, she looked like she wasn’t feeling well. And she wasn’t! I’m the health representative, it’s my job to help out when I can!”

Sayaka hummed skeptically, munching on her fries. Hitomi picked up after her, apparently also wondering about the transfer student. “While I would put it quite the same way as Sayaka-san, I have to admit Akemi-san does strike me as rather strange. Certainly, if I were the target of her stares, I would be more than a little put off. Do you really not mind it, Madoka-san?”

It would be quite hypocritical of Madoka if she did mind it, considering that she had stared right back nearly as often. She wondered if her friends simply hadn’t noticed that, or if they just gave her leeway because she was their friend and Homura was not. It felt quite unfair of them, if that was the case.

“I don’t,” Madoka said, shaking her head in denial. “I just… there something that feel… I dunno, familiar about her. Like... Like I know her from somewhere long ago. Maybe she feels that same way?”

Sayaka blinked at her. “I thought you said you didn’t know her?”

“I don’t” Madoka replied. “But for some reason that thought just feels… wrong? Somehow? I don’t really get it.”

Not to mention her dream… She’s mostly put it out of her mind by now, but she was so sure that it had been Homura holding her in her dream. But that surely wasn’t that case? She couldn’t imagine someone as stoic as Homura crying like that. It was probably just coincidentally someone who resembled Homura.

Not that she would bring that up. That would just make her sound crazy, and she didn’t really want to talk about it anyway.

“In that case, perhaps you did know her,” Hitomi suggested. “It wouldn’t be too strange to be reunited with one or two acquaintances from our younger years that we’ve since forgotten about. Perhaps your subconscious recognizes her, even if you can’t recall any memories of her. If the same holds true for Akemi-san, it would also explain her frequent looks.”

Madoka frowned in thought. It sounded possible, if nothing else. Certainly more plausible than having met her in a dream. “I guess so…”

But then Sayaka threw her hands up in the air, startling both of them. “Arrgh, enough about the transfer student! I know I brought her up, but just thinking about her is getting on my nerves! Let’s talk about something else!”

Madoka’s frown deepened. Sayaka… really didn’t seem to like Homura. She really didn’t understand it. Homura might be a little strange, but that wasn’t a bad thing! She could tell that she was really kind. She would rather the two of them get along, but Sayaka didn’t want to believe her when she said that Homura is a good person.

She wondered, if she told Sayaka that she was going to meet with Homura today, would she be upset? Was Sayaka the exact type of person Homura was worried about when she told Madoka to keep their meeting a secret? She didn’t want to think so, but the way she’d been treating the new girl was sapping her confidence in that.

“Ah, is it that time already?” came Hitomi’s voice, interrupting her musing. “Apologies, Sayaka-san, Madoka-san. I’ll need to take my leave now.”

“Ehh? Already?” Sayaka lamented. “What is it this time? Flower-sorting? Sitting lessons?”

Hitomi stood from her seat, grabbing her bag and giving Sayaka a look that might be called exasperated, if one were feeling generous. “Tea Ceremonies. And I’ll remind you, Sayaka-san, that sitting lessons are not a thing.”

“Eh? You sure? But don’t you sit in seiza all the time during Tea Ceremonies? You can’t tell me they don’t take the time to make you sit all proper, right?”

Hitomi opened her mouth to respond, then promptly shut it again. Madoka giggled at Hitomi’s expression as she realized that Sayaka was right, for once. But soon enough, Hitomi just shook her head a little fondly and said goodbye.

“Well, look’s like it’s just the two of us,” Sayaka declared, turning to Madoka and taking a sip of her drink. “Say, you mind if we hit up the CD store?”

But Madoka blushed, looking down and tapping her fingers together. “Um, actually Sayaka-chan, I need to get going as well.”

It was mostly true. It wasn’t quite time for her meeting with Homura yet, but the last thing she wanted was to be late. So it was best that she start heading for their meeting place sooner rather than later.

“Eh? For real?” Sayaka asked in surprise. “Don’t tell me you’ve got sitting lessons too?”

Madoka giggled again at her friend’s silliness. “No, of course not. I’ve just, um, got something else I need to do today. Sorry…”

“Hm? Something more important than spending time with your dear friend Sayaka-chan? Suspicious…”

“Ehh? It’s not like that, Sayaka-chan! It’s just, something’s come up suddenly is all… I’m really sorry.”

Sayaka seemed confused, but not really all that upset. In the end, she gave into Madoka’s pleading. “Fine, fine. Go do your super-secret, clandestine business. We can always hang out some other time. Guess I’ll head to the CD store on my own, then…”

Madoka frowned, still feeling bad for leaving her friend all on her won. “I’ll make it up to you, Sayaka-chan. I promise.”

But Sayaka just laughed and waved her off. “Madoka, it’s fine, really. If anything, I’m glad you seem to be branching out, though I still wish you’d tell me what you’re doing…”

“Ehehe, it’s a secret! Maybe later.”

Sayaka pouted good-naturedly, but thankfully didn’t press any further. Madoka didn’t want to lie any more than she had to, and she really didn’t want to tell Sayaka about her meeting with Homura at this point. She could only see that causing problems.

(Such little faith in your friends you have, don’t you?)

So she said her goodbyes and headed off, leaving Sayaka on her own.

As she left, she for a moment thought she heard someone calling her name, but when she looked back, she only saw Sayaka leaving in the opposite direct, not even looking her way. So she put it out of her mind and started her way towards the address Homura gave her, excitement taking over her mind.

In hindsight, it had been a good idea to leave early. The place Homura addressed was farther away than she expected, and it took some time to get there. Luckily, she still arrived on time! The place wasn’t really what she had been expecting, though. She had no idea what she was expecting, but still. She supposed the best way to describe the building she had reached was nondescript. It looked perfectly ordinary, with no distinguishing features whatsoever. It was the sort of building Madoka would pass by a thousand times over without ever considering them even once. To be honest, she wasn’t entirely sure that she was even in the right place. It looked more like an office building than a residential one.

Only one way to find out, she supposed.

Present in hand, Madoka took a hesitant step forward and knocked on the door, somehow expecting to wait for some time before an answer came, but to her surprise the door swung open immediately, with Homura standing serenely on the other side. “Madoka,” she said in her usual emotionless tone. “You’re early.”

Madoka jumped a little at the sudden opening of the door, but her surprise was quickly followed by relief and a wide smile. She had the right place after all! “Homura-chan!” she called the other girl’s name excitedly. “Ehehe, I guess I was just excited to talk with you some more!”

Homura didn't respond directly, merely nodded and opened the door wider. “Please. Come in,” she said, gesturing for Madoka to do so.

Madoka obliged, stepping into the unassuming building. She took a look around, hoping to see something more homely than the outside, but instead what she saw only seemed to confirm her early suspicions. It truly did look like an office space, albeit an empty one. Long, empty hallways leading to larger, emptier rooms. “Homura,” Madoka asked gently. “What is this place? You don't… live here, do you?”

But to Madoka's utter dismay, Homura nodded. “Further in, but yes. I understand it's unorthodox, but it suits my current needs well. I plan on living here for the foreseeable future. Don’t worry, the actual living space is much more comfortable.”

“O-oh, I see…” was all Madoka could reply with. She… really didn’t, if was being honest, but she thought it was too early to question it too deeply. Homura led her further into the empty building to a large, sturdy looking door. It looked heavy, but Homura opened it with ease. It led to a well-lit staircase leading down into what Madoka guessed was some kind of basement. She looked at Homura questioningly, but the raven-haired girl just gestured her forward.

This was… definitely weird, but didn’t she already admit Homura was a little strange? And she certainly was curious about Homura’s living situation. So Madoka stepped down into the stairwell.

Homura stepped in after her, and closed the door behind them.

Madoka glanced back, the sudden feeling a claustrophobia pressing in on her. Homura looked at her, and must have seen the nervous look on her face, because for the first time since Madoka had met her, Homura was wearing something other than her usual blank expression.

There was a small, reassuring smile on her face, directed at Madoka. “I know it’s a little unnerving, but you get used to it. Come on, it’s not much farther.”

In one way, Madoka felt herself begin to calm, but in another way, her nervousness only grew. Her heart rate picked up, not because she was scared, but because Homura was so beautiful when she smiled that Madoka just didn’t know what to do with herself. Flushing, Madoka looked away, and continued her trek down the stairs.

“So, um, what kind of place is it, Homura-chan? I’ve never heard of someone living under an office building?” Madoka said, somewhat frantically, trying to distract herself from the sudden racing of her heart.

“I’m not surprised, it’s not common,” was Homura’s reply. “It’s also very out of fashion by now, but many old companies and businesses used to have apartments adjoining or nearby that served as employee dormitories. In this case, there’s a moderately sized apartment down in the basement. I’m not sure on the details, but I believe it previously housed a caretaker of some sort, back when the company who owned the building was still in business. Nowadays, it’s just a vacant lot. I was quite lucky to find it. It’s quite inconvenient, so far out of the way and literally underground, but the rent is exceedingly cheap. I’m rather pleased with it.”

Madoka blinked at the explanation, surprised to find that it made perfect sense. Though she didn’t know why it was surprising. Obviously there was a good reason for Homura to be leading her down into a place like this. Although she did wonder why it sounded like Homura had gone searching for a place like this all on her own.

She glanced back at the other girl, wondering how to word her next question without sounding rude. “Um, Homura-chan?”

Homura looked down at her, expressionless face returning. “Yes?”

“Um, do your parents perhaps not make very much money? Is that why you live in a place like this?”

Homura’s face did not change. “I do not have parents. I live on my own.”

Madoka paled.

(Look what you did. You shouldn’t have asked.)

She frantically tried to apologize. “I-I’m so sorry, Homura-chan! I s-shouldn’t have asked-”

But Homura cut her off. “It’s fine, Madoka. You didn’t know.”

“B-but, still…”

“It’s fine, truly. I’m long over the memory of them, so there is no need to trouble yourself over it. Truly.”

Madoka frowned, not truly reassured, but let the matter go at Homura’s insistence. She supposed that answered why Homura would care about rent, though.

How sad…

She really did need to be friends with Homura!

Still, an awkward silence stretched, and Madoka lamented her own incompetence. Why couldn't she have kept her mouth shut? Or at least change the subject to something more light-hearted. Instead, neither of them said anything as they reached the bottom of the stairs. There wasn't much to see; it looked like a small service area, with a boiler and maybe a circuit breaker. But there was also one last short hallway leading to another reinforced door. She wondered why such a thing was needed, but she supposed that was just how it was in a place like this. Homura opened the door with the same ease as before, and Madoka noticed more than one heavy-duty looking locks on it. Was the security around here really that bad? She hoped Homura didn't live in a bad neighborhood…

Either way, Homura opened the door and ushered Madoka inside, and Madoka finally got a look at where Homura lived.

And as it turned out, Homura hadn't been lying. Contrary to the outside, the apartment did indeed look very cozy. There was no real entryway, rather opening straight into a surprisingly decent sized living/dining room with an open kitchen in the back. It was well decorated, with the occasional tasteful, if basic, paintings hanging on the walls and various potted plants dotted around the place. The wooden floor was almost entirely covered with a fluffy rug, with a comfy-looking couch facing a small but modern TV. There was a game console at the base of it, and a small selection of games tucked into the space in the TV stand.

There was a small chabudai as well, seemingly serving as the dining table, with two zabuton on either side of it. Unwittingly, Madoka thought of Hitomi’s “sitting lessons” and apparently Madoka would be partaking after all, seeing as there didn't seem to be any chairs. Although surely Homura wouldn't mind if she just sat cross-legged…

Standing at the far wall was a bookshelf with all kinds of books and manga, some of which Madoka recognized. She was pretty sure she saw her favourite series there!

All in all, despite the odd location, it looked like Homura put a lot of effort into making this place look like a home.

“Homura-chan!” Madoka exclaimed. “This is really nice! I can tell you put a lot of work in it!”

Homura's expression remained blank, but Madoka thought she looked pleased with herself. Or maybe not. It was hard to tell. “I'm glad you think so, Madoka,” she said simply. “Please, take a seat. I will make some tea.”

Madoka smiled and obliged, kneeling at the table. She watched, a little surprised but delighted when Homura pulled out a proper tea kettle and loose leafs. Madoka watched for a moment as she worked, unable to stop herself from admiring her graceful figure. She blushed when she caught herself, quickly looking down before Homura could see. She fidgeted nervously, suddenly very aware that she was alone with a very pretty girl.

It only took a few moments for the tea to brew, but then Madoka's legs had already started to go numb from kneeling, and she pulled them out from under her as subtly as she could. It wasn't proper, but unlike Hitomi, Madoka never needed to sit in seiza at home, and she wasn't able to hold it for long. Not properly, at least. But it wasn't like this was a formal event. Homura certainly wouldn't mind… right?

She didn't seem to notice either way as she returned with the tea soon after, to Madoka's relief. Homura set the teacup in front of Madoka before taking her own seat across from her. In, what Madoka noticed, perfect seiza posture. Madoka felt suddenly self-conscious, but refrained from fixing her posture, simply hoping that Homura wouldn't notice her comparative lack of elegance.

Although Homura was so nice, she probably wouldn't say anything even if she did notice.

Nervously, Madoka thanked Homura and raised the teacup to her lips, taking a tentative sips, wary of burning lips. But her eyes lit up when she found that, not only was it the perfect temperature, but it tasted wonderful! She quickly said as much. “This is amazing, Homura-chan! You must have a lot of practice! This is my favorite kind of tea, too!”

“Is that so? I'm glad you like it, Madoka.” It was strange, but even under the emotionless tone she used, Madoka could still feel the sincerity underlying it. Something about it had her flushing and fidgeting in place, and she took another sip of tea to try and remain composed. Although, she didn't forget she still had to give Homura her present.

“Um, Homura-chan?” Madoka began.

Homura tilted her head, and it was so cute that Madoka had to make an active effort not to get flustered. “Yes, Madoka?”

“I, um… It's not much, but I brought you a housewarming gift. I hope you can accept it…”

Homura glanced down to the small bag Madoka brought with her, where Madoka placed the red ribbons and small plushie, then traced her gaze back up to Madoka. “There was no need for such a thing, Madoka. You're better off spending your money on yourself.”

(Aren't you, though? Trying to buy Homura's affection through gifts.)

Madoka flushed, looking down at the table. “No, um… I- I wanted to… do… do you not like getting gifts, Homura-chan? I'm sorry, maybe I should have asked first…”

Homura interrupted with a gentle voice. “It's not that. I just believe your money would be wasted on someone like me. If you insist, though, I will gladly accept your gift.”

Madoka smiled, then frowned a little at Homura's words. What did she mean, someone like her? But she shook the thought from her head and handed over the small bag. Homura took it gracefully and reached inside, pulling out the black cat with red ribbons tied around into a bow around its neck. Madoka thought it was a cute way to give Homura two gifts at once, and that way, even if Homura didn't wear the ribbons, they would still have a use for decorating the cat plush.

But when Homura saw what was inside, she frowned. It was the second time Madoka had seen any real expression on her face, and she immediately decided that she didn't like this one. Seeing Homura frown just looked wrong somehow, and she immediately began scrambling for something to say that would rid her of it.

“Ah, well, um, I saw this little kitty at the mall and I guess it reminded me of you? But I guess stuffed animals are a little childish, aren't they? I'm sorry, I should have realized you wouldn't like it, someone as cool as you wouldn't like something so-”

Her rambling was cut off when Homura muttered, “These ribbons…”

Madoka saw Homura trace her gaze from the stuffed kitten up to Madoka's hair, where her own yellow ribbons were tied up. Madoka fidgeted under her gaze, wondering what Homura was thinking about. Why were the ribbons what caught her attention?

“Um, Homura-chan?” Madoka called out questioningly.

Homura's gaze lingered for a moment long, then shifted down to meet Madoka's eyes. “Apologies. I just noticed these ribbons are the same style as the ones in your hair. I wondered why you weren't wearing them yourself. They suit you quite well.”

Eh!? She noticed that? Madoka waved her hands in front of her face as if to ward off the suggestion. “N-no way! They're way too flashy for someone as plain as me! They'd looked much better on you, Homura-chan! You already have such pretty hair.”

Somehow her attempts at reassurance fell flat, and Homura's frown only deepened. “You shouldn't put yourself down like that. I'm quite certain they would look very fetching on you.”

Whatever reply Madoka might have had died a stammering death in her throat. Her cheeks practically glowed red in embarrassment, and all she could manage was a weak denial. “Th-thats not t-true…”

Homura didn’t say anything in reply and only stared at Madoka, her gaze even more intense than usual as Madoka shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet her gaze. Until, eventually, Homura broke eye contact, looking off into the distance and speaking softly, almost to herself. “I suppose we’ll have time to work on that, this time around.”

Madoka blinked in confusion. Work on what? “Um, Homura-chan?”

“Tell me about school,” Homura said instead, abruptly changing the subject. “Do you like it at Mitakihara Middle School? Do you enjoy your classes?”

“Um, uh…” Madoka stuttered at the sudden change in direct, but if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t entirely want to stay on the old one. “Y-yes, I do! The classes are fun, and our teachers are really nice! Saotome-sensei is a little, um, eccentric, but she’s a good teacher! Even though I’m not very good at English… or math… but that’s not the teachers fault! I guess I’m just not good at studying… But I’m sure you’ll keep doing great, Homura-chan! You were amazing today! You must be super smart, huh? Do you spend a lot of time studying?”

It was a poor attempt at getting the subject off of herself and onto Homura. She wasn’t too comfortable discussing herself, and would rather get to know Homura more.

Homura didn’t seem to inclined to agree, however. “Some,” she said simply, then shifted back to Madoka. “How about friends? I saw you spending most of your time with those two in our class. Are they your friends?”

“Eh? Um, You mean Sayaka-chan and Hitomi-chan? Yes, they’re my best friends! Do you want to meet them? I can introduce you at school tomorrow!”

“Perhaps. Tell me about them.”

For some reason, Madoka felt a little like she was being interrogated, but she was also glad that she didn’t have to talk about herself for once, so she sprung at the chance to gush about her friends. “Oh, I’ve been friends with those two since forever! Hitomi-chan acts all refined and noble, but she really sweet, too! Her parents are rich, see, so they make her go to all kinds of rich-girl stuff like piano lessons and Flower Arrangement. I think she’s doing Tea Ceremonies right now! I don’t think she likes it very much, though. She never has much time to hang out and she’s always being dragged to one place or another, but she can’t say anything about it ‘cause it’s her parents, you know? I think it frustrates her more than she lets on, but she doesn’t want to worry us.”

“She sounds like a good friend,” Homura commented.

Madoka nodded emphatically. “She is! And Sayaka-chan, too! She and Hitomi are pretty different, but they're both kind people. Sayaka-chan’s kind of a tomboy, and she doesn't like to study much either. She likes to tease me, and she's headstrong, and maybe a little too quick to judge people. But she's always been there for me ever since I was little. I've known her for even longer than Hitomi. She always protected me from bullies in grade school.”

“You must care for them a lot. Is there anyone else precious to you?” Homura asked.

“Ah, well, I don’t really have any other friends. But I have my family! My mom and my dad are both precious to me, and my little brother too! I wouldn’t give up the world for them!”

“That’s good,” Homura told her. “It’s good you have so many people you care for.”

Madoka nodded in agreement. “Yes! But what about you, Homura? Who do you have that are precious to you?”

Madoka could tell she hit a sensitive subject by the heavy silence that followed after her question. She regretted asking almost immediately, but she wanted to know more about Homura. The other girl wasn’t looking at her directly, her gaze off to the side as she pondered the question. Madoka fidgeted uncomfortably until she eventually answered.

“I do have one friend. She is… very dear to me.”

“O-oh? That’s good!” Madoka said hesitantly, the ominous tone in Homura’s voice giving her pause. “What’s she like?”

Homura spoke slowly, still not meeting Madoka’s eyes as her gaze grew more and more absent. “She is… kind. Always eager to help others. She puts other before herself, even to her own detriment. It’s a trait I find most endearing, and also most frustrating.”

Her voice evoked a strange feeling in Madoka, something she couldn’t quite place. Homura spoke of her friend with a level of emotion that she had never heard before, and it made her feel…

Nostalgic?

That probably wasn’t right… maybe jealous, was a better word? Yeah, she felt jealous.

(She’s finally opening up to you, and you have the gall to feel jealous?)

Madoka shook her head. Now was not the time for that sort of thinking.

Luckily, Homura didn’t notice. “But she has much too little confidence in herself. She’s convinced herself that her best points are her worst, and her kindness is just an act to keep people from seeing her self-proclaimed ‘true self’. She is the most wonderful person I’ve ever met, yet no matter how I try to show her, she cannot see her own worth. Even so, she is precious to me. I would do anything to protect her. Anything at all.”

That was… sad. Anyone friends with Homura was sure to be a good person, and that they couldn’t see it for themselves? That was much too sad. Madoka wanted to meet this person too, and maybe help Homura in telling her that she was surely not at terrible as she apparently thought herself.

(Or maybe you just want to see the person that has Homura so entranced.)

Madoka grit her teeth and pushed the jealous feeling back down. She should be happy that Homura had a friend she obviously cared so deeply for! Getting jealous over that… she really was awful. “She sounds like very nice person, Homura-chan. I’m sure if you told her how you feel, she would listen.”

Homura blinked once, looking slightly startled, as if she had forgotten Madoka was there before turning her intense gaze back to her. There was something in her eyes that looked like resignation. “I have tried, Madoka. Many different times, in many different ways. But it never seems to be enough. She is truly a stubborn person, in the best and worst of ways. Even so, I will continue to reach out for her. It’s the least I can do for all she’s done for me.”

Madoka smiled at her new friend. “She must be very lucky to have someone like you as a friend.”

Homura didn’t answer immediately, her gaze drifting to the side again. She didn’t look very reassured by Madoka’s words. “I wonder about that…”

Taken by a sudden impulse, Madoka reached across the table and took hold of Homura’s hand. “I know it is!” she said emphatically. Homura looked startled by the sudden contact, but Madoka wanted to get rid of that sad look on her face. “To care for someone so much… There’s no way that could ever be a bad thing! Even is she doesn’t recognize it, she must be truly special to have someone like you care for her! I know you’ll get through to her eventually!”

“I…” Homura began somewhat shakily, but seemed to struggle to find the words. She took a deep breath, and let it out in a long sigh. “Thank you, Madoka. It means a lot to me to hear you say that.”

Madoka beamed. Homura’s face was still mostly blank, but she no longer looked so sad. She was so glad she could help! “Of course!” Then she noticed how she had so brazenly taken hold of Homura’s hand, and turned bright red in embarrassment. “Ah! Um, I’m sorry!” she said, letting go of said hands. They were really soft…

Homura didn’t respond to her apology, but she didn’t look upset either. She appeared to be in thought, so Madoka took another drink of her tea while she waited for Homura to collect herself.

“Madoka,” she said eventually. “There is… something else I would like to ask your advice on. About my friend.”

Madoka beamed at Homura. “Of course! I don’t know if I’ll be of any help, but I’ll do what I can!”

Homura nodded at her. “Thank you. You see, my hypothetical from before. Do you remember?”

Madoka recalled that strange question Homura had asked back in school, so she nodded in acknowledgment. “You mean about protecting a friend, even if it means doing something bad? I remember.” Then her eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. “Wait, are you saying…”

Homura confirmed her fears before she could finish voicing them. “Yes. It was not really a hypothetical. My friend is… I suppose you could say prone to getting herself into trouble. Rarely of her own volition, but there are others who take advantage of her kindness to drag her into danger that I cannot always protect her from. I have… I have seen her hurt and injured more times than I can bear.”

Madoka’s breath hitched. That… sounded very serious. Maybe too serious? “What… what kind of trouble, Homura-chan? Is she being bullied? Or… or something worse? I- I don’t know if I can help with something like that…”

But Homura shook her head. “Don’t misunderstand, Madoka. I wouldn’t ask anything too great of you. I already have a plan to help her, in fact. I simply want you’re opinion.”

“O-oh,” Madoka sighed a little, feeling a mix of relief, and shame that she couldn’t do more. But she was glad that Homura seemed to know what she was doing. She really was so different from Madoka… “Does… does this have anything to do with what you said before? About… doing something drastic?”

Homura nodded slowly, and continued, but this time her voice was slow and hesitant, more unsure than Madoka had ever hear from her. “I… I know it’s wrong, but… sometimes I feel like the only way to keep her safe is to… remove her from the danger entirely. To keep her somewhere safe and hidden, far away where no one could ever hope to hurt her again.”

Madoka’s mouth fell open in shock at the admission. For a moment, she was at a loss of what to say. “Homura-chan… that’s…”

“It’s terrible, I know,” Homura interjected. “I would never actually do anything to hurt her, Madoka, I hope you know that. But… I’ve become so desperate to keep her safe, that I can’t help but feel this way.”

Madoka didn’t know how to respond. To be pushed to that sort of desperation… Madoka couldn’t imagine being in such a situation. But she could hear it in Homura’s voice. It was masked behind that emotionless tone of hers, but Madoka could hear it all the same, an exhausted need buried deep within every word. Would Homura really do such a thing?

No, Homura only said she felt that way. And she obviously recognized how wrong that was. Homura wasn’t a bad person, Madoka was sure of it; she must be truly desperate to start thinking such things. Maybe… maybe that’s what Homura needed right now. Not advice on what she should do. Homura was much smarter than her anyway, she would surely come up with something better than Madoka. No, maybe what she needed was some simple reassurance.

(Because that’s all you can offer, isn’t it? Too weak to offer real help, too dumb to offer a real solution. All you have are empty platitudes)

A stabbing pain shot through her heart, but she tried not to let it show. Maybe she couldn’t help Homura in any real way. But that didn’t mean she shouldn’t try.

“I think…” Madoka began, trying organize her thoughts into something coherent. “I think it’s normal to feel that we would do anything to protect the people we love. It… It must be so scary, Homura-chan, whatever it is you’re going through. Having such thoughts… I don’t think that makes you a bad person. I think it just shows how much you care for her, to go to such lengths to protect your friend, even when you know it’s wrong.”

Something changed in Homura’s face, but Madoka could not tell what it was. Her expression became… somehow even more unreadable, and her head fell until her bangs covered her eyes, and Madoka could not longer see her face clearly. Madoka’s heart jumped, and she worried she had said the wrong thing. But she did not know what else to say, so she nervously fiddled with the teacup in her hands until Homura responded.

“I see,” Homura eventually said, her voice so low it Madoka could barely hear it. Her head was still lowered, and Madoka had no idea what might be feeling. “If that’s what you think… then I have no choice but to believe you. Thank you, Madoka. You’ve helped me greatly.”

Madoka’s breath caught in her throat. Homura’s voice sounded… empty. Dead. Had she said the right thing? Or had she just made things worse? Madoka couldn’t tell, and somehow, Homura’s words didn’t provide any clarity either. She said she helped her, but then why did she sound so defeated?

“Um,” Madoka said, but couldn’t think of anything to follow up with.

“The tea’s gone cold.” Homura said instead. Before Madoka could say otherwise, she stood and made her way back to the kitchen. “I’ll brew a new batch. Forgive me, I did not mean to drag down the conversation. I’ve been a poor host.”

“N-not at all!” Madoka protested. “Everyone needs help sometimes, Homura-chan! And I enjoy talking to you, regardless of what about! You don’t need to feel bad about it.”

Homura didn’t look back at her, and focused on preparing a new pot of tea. “You’re too kind, Madoka,” was all she said.

Madoka didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t meant to made Homura sad again! Why does she always just makes things worse? What was wrong with her? She just wanted to help…

(Maybe your first mistake was thinking you could help anyone.)

Madoka quickly rubbed away the tears that welled up in her eyes. She would not let Homura catch her crying. She wouldn’t!

“Um, Homura-chan?” Madoka called after making sure her tears wouldn’t fall.

“Yes?”

“Um, have you… talked to an adult about all this? I don’t know what it is you and your friend are going through, but, it sounds dangerous. Shouldn’t you talk to a teacher, or even the police?”

To her surprise, when Homura glanced her way, there was a smile on her face. But it wasn’t a nice one. It looked… nasty? No, that wasn’t the right word. More bitter. “I have, actually. I held off on it for a long time, believing that they wouldn’t be of any help. But eventually I figured giving it a try couldn’t possibly make things worse.” The smile faded then, replaced by a morbid frown. “I’ll not be making that mistake again.”

Madoka swallowed thickly. “O-oh…” She… probably didn’t want know, did she? Homura probably didn’t want to tell her either. She had already been fairly vague so far. She supposed she could only trust that whatever Homura was planning would work out…

Still… she didn’t like the thought of Homura dealing with something so heavy on her own… Was there really nothing she could do? Surely there was something…

But by the time Homura returned with a fresh batch of tea, Madoka had nothing. Homura refilled her cup, at which point Madoka realized that Homura hadn’t taken a single drink. That somehow made Madoka feel worse, as if it was her fault that Homura couldn’t even enjoy the delicious tea she made. It was a silly thought even to her, but that didn’t make the feeling go away.

Homura once again took the seat across from her, looking back into Madoka’s eyes. “Let’s move onto lighter subjects,” she said. “I didn’t mean for the conversation to become so heavy. I wouldn’t want to spoil your visit here.”

Madoka shook her head in denial. “Of course not, Homura-chan. I told you, I don’t mind talking about these sorts of thing. But… if you really want to talk about something else, I don’t mind either…”

Homura gave a slight nod. “I think it’s for the best.”

Homura asked her more questions then, about her family, about her hobbies, about her favorite foods. Madoka answered as best she could, but she couldn’t help but feel a little uncomfortable at being the center of attention. She tried to ask her own questions in turn, wanting to get to know Homura better, but her answers were always short and vague, often deflecting right back onto Madoka.

It was awkward, but as the questions continued, Madoka felt herself relaxing. Homura always listened attentively to everything Madoka had to say, even the most mundane and boring bits. The questions were thoughtful and never invasive, seemingly designed to encourage Madoka to share more about herself, and even though they didn’t talk about Homura as much as she liked, she found herself not minding too much. There would always be another time to learn about her, and it was admittedly kind of nice to have someone just… listen to her. With Homura, Madoka didn’t feel so pressured to carefully construct her words out of fear of sounding boring or foolish or whiny. Homura listened no matter what she said, or how she said it, and she never felt like she was being an annoyance. It was nice.

It was also confusing, because Madoka didn’t have anything interesting to say. She was not an interesting person. Her hobbies were normal, her family was normal, her life was normal. But Homura always seemed interested, always had another question ready for her. And never once did she look the slightest bit bored.

Though even with Homura’s skillful maneuvering, Madoka couldn’t talk about herself forever. But when she finally found herself out of things to say, Homura swiftly found another route to occupy them, and asked Madoka if she’d liked to play a game, to which Madoka readily agreed. Madoka didn’t play games very often, but every once in a while Sayaka roped her into playing one of her fighting games, and she always had fun even if she never did very well.

Homura, though, did not choose a fighting game. Madoka didn’t recognize it, but it seemed to be a cooperative game, to her secret relief. They played as cute little chefs working together to cook up meals for customers. She and Homura made their way through the tutorial, chopping up vegetables and cooking meats. It looked much easier than Sayaka’s fighting games, and Madoka was excited to play!

Oh, how wrong she was.

“Homura-chan! The onions!” Madoka squealed as she frantically rushed to the catch the cooking stew before it burned, barely catching it in time to save the dish.

“I’ve got it,” Homura replied calmly, her movements fluid and graceful as she sliced up the next batch of ingredients with perfect rhythm.

The tutorial had not prepared her for this. Orders flooded in, barely enough time to complete a dish before two more popped up. The kitchen was a chaotic mess with dishes strewn about, waiting to be washed. Madoka was utterly overwhelmed. She barely had a handle on the controls, bumping into Homura and the counters with every attempted turn and constantly fumbling with the ingredients. In contrast, Homura seemed perfectly serene, moving about the tiny kitchen with an elegant efficiency. She was a whirlwind of precision, plating dishes, chopping vegetables, and fetching new ingredients without a wasted step.

“We need more dishes, Madoka,” Homura informed her.

“Ah! Sorry!” Madoka cried, rushing to collect the dirty plates and bring them to the sink while Homura put the next dish on the stove. She mashed the button to clean the plates as quickly as possible, then delivered them to Homura just as the cooking dish was finished. Homura smoothly plated the dish before delivering it to the serving area, earning them another tip.

They continued like that, with Homura coolly completing the orders while occasionally giving simple, direct instructions that Madoka scrambled to fulfill.

It was fast. It was frantic. It was so much fun!

Madoka found herself laughing breathlessly as the timer ticked down and they finished the level, barely passing with enough points to clear it. “That was so much fun, Homura-chan!” she exclaimed. “Where did you find a game like this? I didn’t know there were these types of games!”

Homura gently set her controller down, seemingly as unfazed as ever. But Madoka noticed that her lips were ever so slightly turned upward in the barest semblance of a smile. “I’m glad you are enjoying yourself, Madoka,” she said softly. “And it’s quite a popular game. I thought you might enjoy it more than something competitive.”

“I do!” Madoka gushed. “It’s so much fun! Thank you for suggesting it, Homura-chan!”

“Of course. Would you like to continue? The levels only get harder from here, but that’s part of the fun, I hear.”

Madoka nodded vigorously. “Yes! Let’s play some more!”

Homura nodded once and picked up the controller again, navigating to the next level. Madoka’s eyes widened at the screen loaded to reveal a new kitchen…

Spread across two trucks speeding down a highway.

Oh, goodness…

“Don't worry” Homura reassured her. “It’s not too different from the first level.” And then, after a significant pause, added, “Just make sure not to fall off.”

Madoka gave an uncertain nod, and they began the level.

They did not win this one. Madoka could not predict when the two trucks would separate, and often tried to cross with excruciating timing, falling to her demise along with whatever ingredients she happened to be carrying. She had done truly terrible, but Homura never once complained, rather every time Madoka failed she calmly encouraged her to try again, and praised her every time she completed a task. She was so patient with her that it was hard to even get upset with herself at her horrible gameplay, and when they finished the level with hardly even a gold star to show for it, Madoka only felt determined to try again.

The two of them played for some time, much longer than when Madoka usually went along with Sayaka's games. But unlike with Sayaka, Madoka never got frustrated enough to want to give up. Despite her natural reticence, Madoka enjoyed her time with Homura. It felt like spending time with an old friend, rather than getting to know a new one. It was almost strange how comfortable she felt next to Homura's side, but it made Madoka happy.

She only started to notice how late it was getting when their game was loudly interrupted by a loud growl. Homura paused, glancing down to Madoka's stomach as Madoka herself flushed bright red in embarrassment. “Ah… ahaha,” Madoka tried to laugh off her embarrassment. She failed, but she tried. She pulled out her phone and cringed a little when she saw the time. Mama and Papa would be expecting her home soon. She opened her mouth to regretfully tell Homura that she needed to start making her way back home, but Homura spoke before she had the chance.

“Are you hungry, Madoka? Would you like something to eat?”

Madoka's face fell in regret. “Ah… I’d like to, Homura-chan… but I really should be going now. I had a lot of fun with you, but it's getting late…”

Homura didn't reply immediately, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I see…” was all she said for the moment. Madoka shifted nervously next to Homura. She didn't want disappoint the other girl, and really, she didn't want to leave either. But it couldn't be helped.

But then Homura looked back up at Madoka, pining her with that intense gaze once more, and Madoka froze in place. “I don't suppose I could convince you to say a little longer to have dinner with me? I promise it won't take too long. I already have something prepared; it only needs reheating.”

Madoka bit her lip, considering it despite herself. Dinner with Homura… She wanted to. She really, really wanted to. But if she took much longer, her parents would start to worry about her. And after this morning, she really didn't want to upset them any more than she already had.

But right as Madoka opened her mouth to answer, Homura added, “If it helps you make a decision, we’ll be having cream stew.”

Madoka’s mouth snapped shut.

Well… Surely staying just a little later wouldn't cause too much trouble… right? “O-okay,” Madoka found herself saying against her better judgment.

When Homura gave her another small smile, Madoka couldn't bring herself to regret it.

She returned to her seat at the dining table as Homura pulled a pot from the refrigerator and returned it to the stove. It didn't take long for the delicious smell of cream stew to fill the air, making Madoka's mouth water and her stomach rumble in anticipation. By the time it was ready and placed in front of her, one might have thought Madoka hadn't eaten at all that day with how loudly her stomach growled!

Although she supposed she didn't eat much of her breakfast this morning…

But, never mind that! She always had room for cream stew!

She eagerly clasped her hands together before taking up her utensils and bringing a spoonful of stew up to her mouth, blew on it a couple times to cool it down, and took a bite.

“Mmmm!!”

It was delicious! It was warm and creamy and chock full of flavor! It was just as good as Papa’s! Madoka took bite after bite the the savory goodness before she could help herself. “Homura-chan, did you cook this yourself? It’s so good!”

“Thank you, Madoka,” Homura replied coolly. “I see myself cooking frequently in the near future, so I’ve been practicing. I’m glad you like it.”

So she did make it herself! How incredible! Homura really could do anything, couldn’t she? She was so lucky, to have made such an amazing friend!

It was hard not to ravage the meal in front of her, but she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of Homura any more than she had today. She did her best to contain herself, but she noticed between bites that Homura didn’t seem to be eating. She had a bowl in front of her, but her utensils sat aside untouched, and her hands were folded in front of her as she seemed to be just watching Madoka intently. Madoka blushed under her gaze and slowed down her eating. “H-Homura-chan? Aren’t you going to eat too?” she questioned.

Homura didn’t respond for a moment, blinking soundlessly at Madoka’s question. But eventually her gaze fell to the dish in front of her. “Of course,” she said eventually. “My apologies. I did not mean to stare.”

“Ah, it’s not problem,” Madoka replied nervously. “Just don’t forget to eat! It’s not fair if I’m the only one who gets to enjoy this meal!”

Homura nodded mutely, but Madoka waited until she spooned a mouthful of stew into her mouth. Her face didn’t change as she ate, her jaw chewing mechanically, but Madoka smiled in satisfaction before returning to her own dish.

Delicious as it was, it didn't take Madoka long to finish eating. Right as she took her last bite, Homura's voice reached her one more. “Are you finished, Madoka? Would you like seconds?”

Madoka looked up to see that Homura had barely made a dent in her own food. Madoka felt heat rising to her cheeks. How fast had she eaten? And to be honest, she really did want seconds, but there was no way she was going to pig out in front of Homura. “N-no, that's okay Homura-chan. It was really good! But I really should be going now. It's already so late…”

A small frown made its way onto Homura's face. “I…” she started, then paused, looking downward.

Madoka almost reconsidered right then and there. But as much as she might have liked to stay with Homura, she couldn't possibly justify staying any longer. “I'm sorry, Homura-chan. But my parents will be worried if I'm not back soon.”

Homura didn't say anything for a moment. Madoka saw her take a deep breath as a shadow passed over her face, before it quickly returned to her usual emotionless expression. “Yes. I suppose it would be rude of me to insist you stay any longer. I apologize for being so unreasonable.”

There was… something in Homura's voice that made Madoka shiver. An edge underlying her words, even as her tone remained flat. Was Homura upset? Did she want Madoka to stay that badly?

That… made her a little happy. To know she wasn't alone in her sudden attachment. “You don't need to apologize, Homura-chan! I understand. But we can still spend time together tomorrow! Maybe we could even have a sleepover soon! Wouldn't that be great?”

Homura looked at her. Madoka couldn't tell what she was thinking. “Would you like one last cup of tea before you go, Madoka?”

“Ah, um, sure!” Madoka replied. She had to fight back the sudden bout of nerves that had taken her. She wasn't sure if it was the way she said it, or just the look in her eye, but it felt like Homura’s demeanor had completely changed just now. Had Madoka said something to offend her? Did she not like the idea of a sleepover? She somehow didn't think that was the case…

Homura poured out the last of the tea and handed it to Madoka. Madoka quickly downed the whole thing. It tasted more bitter than before, but she wondered if that was just because of the sudden awkward atmosphere making her imagine it. She promptly handed the cup back to Homura, who took it with grace. “I had a lot of fun today! I'm sorry I don't have time to help you with the dishes.” She felt bad about that. And Homura had barely eaten, too!

“You're a guest, Madoka,” Homura told her, placing the cup in the sink. “I wouldn't expect that if you.”

“Still!” Madoka insisted. Homura didn't answer her, and instead began gathering up the dishes in silence. Madoka just shook her head. “Well, I'll help next time! But I have to go now. I'll see you tomorrow, Homura-chan!”

Madoka waited a moment longer, but Homura still didn't respond, continuing to clean up without looking her way. Madoka shifted uncomfortably, worried she had somehow offended the other girl. But she couldn't think of anything she had done? Everything had been going so well…

(You really screw up every little thing, don't you?)

Madoka flinched. She really hoped she hadn't messed anything up. But she really had to go. She'd talk to Homura tomorrow, and hopefully they could figure things out then. So she headed to the front door and put her hand on the handle. “Goodbye, Homura-chan!” She called one last time.

There was the sound of dishes clacking together, and still no answer. Madoka bit her lip in worry, but she didn't know what else she could do. She didn't even know what she had done wrong!

It was too late to do anything now, regardless. With a sigh, Madoka turned away from the other girl and pulled open the door.

Or rather, she tried to. The door didn't move. Madoka blinked in surprise, then pulled again, harder this time, recalling that they were quite heavy. But even then, the door only got caught on-

Why were there locks on the inside?

“Um, Homura-chan?” Madoka turned back to the taller girl. She had finished collecting the dishes and was running then under the water. “Homura-chan, the door’s locked.”

Homura grabbed a sponge and started scrubbing the dishes. She did not reply.

“H-Homura-chan?” Madoka called again. “Can you come open the door, please? I can’t get out.”

Still no reply. Madoka’s heart started to pick up, beating heavily in her chest. What… what was going on? Was Homura… not letting her go? She turned back to the door and tried to open it once more, but it was no use. The locks were unfamiliar to her, and no amount of fiddling could undo them. The door wouldn’t so much as budge. Madoka felt the beginnings of panic rise within her. “H-Homura-chan, this isn’t v-very funny. I know y-you don’t want me to l-eave, but I have to go! My parents are p-probably worried sick!”

“Kaname Madoka.”

The voice made her jump, and she turned back to Homura. She watched for a moment as the other girl put a dish in the drying rack, and started on another one. “W-what? What is it?” she asked.

“My friend,” Homura said. “The one I would do anything to protect. Her name is Kaname Madoka.”

Madoka stared uncomprehendingly at Homura’s back. The friend was… her? But that didn’t make any sense! She had never met Homura before today!

(Are you really so sure about that?)

And the way Homura spoke about her; it was nothing like Madoka! That girl was kind and selfless! A good person!

(You’ve tricked everyone else you know into think the same about you. Why not Homura-chan, as well?)

Why would Homura even care about someone like her?! They didn’t even know each other before today!

(She knew you’re favorite tea. She knew your favorite food. She knows you well enough to pick a video game you’d enjoy, even though you almost never play them. She even has your favorite manga series sitting on her bookshelf.)

Madoka’s breath hitched. Homura had been so cold to everyone in class. But for some reason she let her of all people call Homura by her first name? Was… Was Homura stalking her? Was that why she knew those thing? Had she prepared all that specifically for her enjoyment?

“H-Homura-chan, you’re scaring me… Please, just let me go…”

Homura didn’t say anything for a moment, placing the last dish into the drying rack. Then, she said softly, “I’m sorry for that. I truly am. But that doesn’t change what I must do.”

Madoka felt dizzy. This was all too much, too fast.

(What are you so afraid of?)

Why?

(Weren’t you jealous of Hitomi’s love letters? This is even better, isn’t it?)

Why was Homura doing this?

(Weren’t you jealous of all that love and devotion when Homura-chan spoke about her friend earlier?)

For someone like her?

(Turns out it was you the whole time. Shouldn’t you be happy?)

Madoka’s blood ran cold. She shook her head violently, trying to clear her head, but the movement only made the dizziness worse. She stumbled in place, nearly falling over from the sudden vertigo that assaulted her. She leaned against the wall to steady herself. Her breath as shaky and uneven, and her heart was racing in her chest. She- she needed to get out of here… call someone…

She fumbled around her uniform pocket, nearly dropping her phone as she pulled it out. She shakily typed in the passcode and tried to call the authorities.

There was no signal.

(Of course there’s no signal. Why do you think she brought you underground? This entire apartment was probably prepared just for you.)

Tears welled up in Madoka’s eyes. She’d been tricked… Homura had lured her here to this far, secluded place, and now she wouldn’t let her leave. She hadn’t even told anyone where she was…

Madoka trembled in place, her tears falling in thick, wet streams. She was trapped, completely at the other girl’s mercy.

(She has you all to herself, now. You played right into her hands. Well done.)

Homura finally turned around, and saw Madoka’s tears. Something flashed across her face, something sharp and deep, but Madoka saw as she forcefully repressed it, shaping her features back into utter blankness. “I know this is scary, Madoka,” she said, and Madoka flinched as she said her name. “But I’m not going to hurt you. I promise you that.”

Madoka didn’t say anything as her tears gave way to violent hiccups. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t go anywhere. She wouldn’t even be able to fight back. Homura had shown how capable she was during P.E. Madoka was pathetic in comparison. There was nothing she could do.

Her head suddenly swam, dizziness taking over once more. She couldn’t keep her balance this time, and suddenly she was tumbling straight for the floor.

Warm, slender arms arms encircled her, catching her before she fell. Immediately, Madoka’s mind flung back to her dream that morning. The feeling of someone clinging to her with reverent desolation. The sound of utter despair in the form of unrestrained wailing.

Madoka looked up through her blurry tears. She saw long, black hair, and burning purple eyes, and choked out a sob.

“Forgive me, Madoka,” Homura said, her voice a feather’s touch. “Forgive me for being selfish. I wanted to pretend just a little longer.” She pulled Madoka closer, scooping her up into her strong arms. Madoka struggled weakly, but she couldn’t muster even a smidgen of strength against her. Her arms felt weak and useless, and her head was a fuzzy mess. Why? Why couldn’t she even fight back?

(That tea sure was bitter, wasn’t it?)

Oh…

Madoka sobbed again.

“It’s okay,” Homura soothed gently. She carried Madoka across the room, and through a doorway into another. Black spots were beginning to form in her vision, and she couldn’t see what was inside. But Homura set her down on something soft and fluffy. A bed?

A blanket was pulled from somewhere Madoka couldn’t see, and placed gently atop of Madoka’s body. Homura looked down a Madoka then, and Madoka watched helplessly as the blankness of her face at last melted away until all that was left was profound, bottomless sorrow. Her hand reached out, fingers trembling, and Madoka didn’t even have the strength to pull away as she softly smoothed away a strand of hair from her face. “I’m sorry, Madoka,” she whispered tenderly. Madoka could barely hear her over the buzzing in her ears. “But I can’t let you get hurt. I promise, I’ll keep you safe this time.”

Madoka tried to respond, to say anything in kind, but nothing passed her lips but an incoherent mumble.

The last thing she saw before the darkness claimed her was Homura’s anguished face.

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