Chapter Text
Matama looks over the evil supervillian lair of one of the scariest, most intimidating people she's ever met in shock and awe.
It's full of magical girl merch.
Utena squirms where she's standing, not meeting her eyes, looking like a dog bracing for another kick from its owner.
Slowly, Matama peels her gaze away from the glittery saccharine sight before her and levels a dead stare at the one who now lead the infamous organisation Enormeeta after beating Lord in one-on-one combat.
"Are you fucking serious right now?!" Both her and her girlfriend standing behind her exclaim at the same exact time.
Well, that explained some things.
Nemo continues arguing with Utena in the background, letting her and Matama's exasperation both be known.
Matama though feels herself inexplicably drawn forwards to the various pieces of art, symbols of admiration and worship, fandom that stretch out before her, covering walls, tables and shelves like a spider's web in an abandoned attic only other spiders would be trusted enough to enter.
Figurines of various sizes and proportiones, some depicting magical girls she knows, some she doesn't, and others that…
Matama, grunt and former assassin of Enormeeta, averts her gaze quickly from those particular images, before they can set her mind ablaze like a stray spark from a past she'd rather leave peacefully resting for as long as humanly possible.
That only leaves her to look at the merch of her recent enemies and playmates. The Tres Magia and the Shio-chans. Spars are the appearances of the latter, for good reason, Matama thinks.
None of the Shio-chans have the spark of an idol, or even that much of a public persona with the exception of Enorme herself who… Matama thinks about killing one of these days if it weren't for a few things holding her back.
Shio-chan isn't the arctic, physically abusive and threatening leader she remembers when she thinks back as her time… beneath her, in the organisation.
Whenever that mask, and the transformation wearing it, appears before her, she still can't believe that it's Lord underneath it all. Flashes of warm anger, disgust, mirth and sadism that are so much more brilliant on Enormee's face than Matama could imagine being. At least, imagine before that star became a heart.
Nomatter how much her mind knows they are the same people, her heart can't connect the dots, her anger, hate and spite not finding the outlet for which they're aching. Sometimes, Matama can't stop but wonder if they are even the same person in the first place, even though she knows for a fact that they are!
And not for the first time thinking about her weakness does she subsequently wonder if everyone is simply right about her, if she really is just an idiot.
Then, the second one of that team: Randa. The bandaged and blood fuelled beserker might be the most amicable magical girl to her and the rest of her friends there is. How often Kiwi of all people makes her laugh, how often they share food and have pleasant conversation.
What would happen to that smile if Loco and Leberblume blew her partner to bits?
And what would have happened if the Shio-chans hadn't shown up when they did?
What would that wretched Flower have done?
What would have happened to them?
What would it have forced Magenta to do?
Matama's eyes wander to the many pieces of Tres Magia merch in the room, the shrine to the three girls and magical girldom as a whole.
Not one piece of merch or mention of Fallen Medic. Not that official merch had ever come out for her, but fans create, and where ther are otakus, there is a way. Utena would know that more than any of them, maybe even more than Nemo.
And still, not a single mention of Magia Magenta's alter ego.
'I honestly shouldn't be surprised.
'Where Enormeeta goes, regrets are sure to follow i guess…
'I sure hope Korisu and Machina are spared at least, by the end…'
Her eyes wander over a poster of Azul, one of her posing with a type of "Azul flavoured Icecream" and can't help but feel a chuckle slip from her lips.
'Yeah, I bet it's Azul flavoured you… hmpf!' She looks away, a small blush lingering on her face, dimly aware of her own hypocrisy, '… insulting you like the sow you are is Kiwi's job anyways.'
But even still, she can't help but think that she gets a little where Utena is coming from. Matama looks upon the other girl's idols and sees Stars. Not a star like they have hearts instead, no, but Stars!
Girls her own age, Azul, Sulfur and Magenta, Stars. Stars like her!
Stars… that shine brighter than she does.
And brighter than them all, brightest of them shines their leader, Magia Magenta.
"Do you… do you like my collection, Matama-chan?" Utena has walked up to her, Nemu has left the room when she wasn't looking, maybe downstairs with Korisu and Utena's mom.
"It's… alright!" Matama huffs theatrically as if acknowledging a rival's achievments.
Which wasn't what she was doing. Afterall, this is about Utena's neet cave, not those girls themselvs!
Utena smiles at her, warmly even.
"I'm glad you like it!"
"Yeah, yeah…"
"Do you… Do you have a favourite?"
Instinctively Matama sends a glare back at Utena but almost immidiately averts it. Shamefully, she just points to the Magenta poster on the wall, not looking back at Utena at all.
"Magenta? Hehe yeah she's my favourite too, you have good taste." Awkward and sweet. Someone Matama never would have met if it weren't for Enormeeta, never would have given the time of day, if she was honest with herself.
Magia Baiser, the villainess, the one who sows and reaps regrets like a master at a never before seen craft. The one who reaped Lord's repressed humanity, the one who reaped Matama and Nemo's repressed feelings for eachother, the one who sowed many La Veritas and brought them to bloom, and last but not least one darling little robot maid.
If her boss wasn't so content with the role of villain, maybe Matama would point out how beyond good and evil Baiser really is, and you only need to look at the consequences of her actions to see it.
'… whatever Vena has planned next time, I hope you will be on our side then too.
'And if not, then I hope the next big sword Enormee spears you with doesn't kill either.'
Utena herself remained blissfully unaware of Matama's thoughts, a quiet sort of happiness in her expression that could only come from not having your subordinates be in the dark anymore about how much of a massive neet you are, Matama presumes.
"Oh, do you want to see the new song Magia Magenta made?"
She blinks.
"Huh?!"