A.N: It's funny.

A.N: So I wrote this as a response to Renahh Chen's story about Mami and her killing witches morality.

So despite the camps of "I love/hate Mami/Charlotte," (Not the pairing, just the individuals themselves) I write this because who is at fault here?

The eater or the eaten?

Edited to include where in the timeline her thoughts are expressed.



That's what the sign read.

It's what the writing on the walls or objects read.

Of course no one could read it.

No one could even understand the words coming from a witch or it's familars.

It was all...gibberish.


Maybe that's why she sat there with a sad dispoistion.


Lack of hope.



Yet as she fell and felt the butt of a rifle, she felt nothing, not even her mouth changed expression, her thoughts were provoked by Mami and Madoka.

Although she had not known Madoka, she was reminded of her human self, scared, confused, but she had two friends with her and...Kyubey.

Some stirred inside her when she saw the fake cat.

Mami on the other hand (Unlike her past victims who might have eaten cheese before entering her barrier or had some with them) just her hair color reminded her of the yellow delight.


Unlike the victims before her, they were just random people or visitors to the hospital, hospital patients, nurses, doctors and surgeons.

The nurse, "Peter" a foreigner working for communcation and experience, he was a simple guy, he tried to help but he hurt her when he denied her cheese. He even told the cafeteria staff to stop her from eating any.

The surgeons hurt her while she slept with their tools.

The doctors hurt her with news of her condition and the poking of needles.

She knew it was for her own benefit but she also knew it was pointless.

There was no cure what she had or at least her recovery was not guaranteed.

The radiation treatments were working against her instead of stunting the growth of the cancer, her T cells tried to fight the pathogen but this was futile.

The ribbons and scarves she once adored, given to her as a gift from her mother, were pointless to wear when her hair fell out and the radiation left her with burns.

She was warm then.


She damned the bombs from the American planes, for dropping them in her hometown.

If she saw them again, this time she would be prepared, she would take them down with her "Pocky Launcher."*


The ones who hurt her the most were the other patients with their indifference towards her.

She would try to talk to them or cheer them up, but some forgot her, some ignored her in favor of despair or sleep.

She would try to play with other children but they would call her a little man because she was short, had marks and lacked hair, the burns didn't help so to them she looked like a creepy monster.

When she went out, the scene of the destroyed wreckage and similar people with radiation from the bombs made her want to crawl back into bed.


Yet when she was shot through the head, she knew her real self was waiting within.

Malice she called it.


She vomited a lot after eating or drinking. Her stomach turned on her as well.

Some of the patients had cheese to eat, sometimes it was all they could find for the day, or what was given by another country out of pity.

They ate ignoring her plight.

When she transformed, they were the first to go.

They had cheese, she didn't.

It was a fitting thought for her, after all she is a kid.


She was shot through the head and for the first time in a long while she felt...Cold.

She felt as cold and empty as those patients were towards her.


She felt claustrophobic and sweaty while sleeping, confined to her bed or chair, unable to move freely, always attached to a tube or a wire. Or during fits of pain, she would be forced to be held down by oderlies and nurses.

She felt the same way when the Mami's strings slowly lifted her up.

Despite her tenacious nature to try and get to know others and be helped by the staff, she resented them all for harming her.

Depriving her of basic wants and needs.

She knew she could never get these things.

The things that really mattered, it wasn't about the food really, she could get that from the hospital, at least the ones they allowed her to eat...

Yet when she felt her stomach open, like in a operation, she felt empty and cold and not asleep this time.

She wanted warmth, food and company what better way than to steal it?

She had all the time in the world.


Schools closed while she and others affected by the A-bomb recovered, she was slowly getting tested to see what made her turn around to be healthy again.

Her hair came back after a few months and her stomach complied with her again.

Skin was smooth and she made friends with the other children.

She was a monster to them in her "burned form."


Someone adorable to feed.


Some were jealous and she never tried to be proud of it, she felt a little guilty for not wishing for everyone to be healthy, maybe that way she would finally have company.


She panicked as she fought witches, she was only a child after all.

Dealing with witches was a tricky because they used underhanded tactics to kill and steal lives.

She had to be the same in order to win.

It was in her nature.


Although it might not seem fair or right, she was provoked first, she was reminded when the butt of the gun met her chair and made her tumble

She was forced to remember when she was shot and tossed around like a...rag doll.

She only wanted to have a happy life.

All witches did.

Yet things changed.

They wished for change but it always worked against them.

Her hunger returned as the ONLY feeling she had and soon as her true self emerged from her mouth.

Although what she ate lacked cheese, there were other ways to get it.

Through this new morsel's stomach for one.

So I think this might be my favorite story written about Charlotte (there are 4 others I think in which she has had other origins mostly the same but with minor differences, mostly a twin) because it causes Mami to be her foil or at least similar to her (I didn't realize this until today when I uploaded this and re-read it for proof-reading)

A.N: So I wrote this as a response to Renahh Chen's story about Mami.

*Also the Pocky Launcher is her weapon based on her wish, well part of her wish.