Part Eight: The End.

(Of the first night, at least.)

Sayaka glanced around through squinting eyes, not in a racist way but because there were freaking lasers shooting directly into her face. That's what it felt like to her, at least.

The big room, what she thought of as the Main Room, somewhat unimaginatively but accurately, had been transformed. The lighting was very dim; neon green, brilliant orange and electric blue provided an atmosphere of spooky luminescence, not dissimilar to the confusion found within a witch's labyrinth. Tiny circles of light and strange symbols carved out of a tricolor rainbow appeared to float around the room, spinning in strange patterns.

She was starting to get a headache.

The thumping echoing through the chamber, through her body, making her very bones seem to rattle inside her, was reminiscent of a beating heart pumping for all it was worth in the heat of battle. She might have enjoyed it, if it hadn't been so loud.

Looking around the room again, Sayaka saw the array of speakers from which the noise came; it was as if she could feel the percussive force of each beat wash over her. Looking over at Link, who was likewise surveying the dance floor with no signs of wanting to participate, Sayaka leaned over. Really, glow sticks and wristbands? "What do you think?"

"WHAT?" The elf-girl cupped an ear, leaning closer.


Link wiped her ear with the corner of the green tunic she wore, smiling. "Say it don't spray it. This would have been so cutting edge in 1990," she said like she knew what she was talking about, and hadn't cobbled together an observation based upon some rather vague references from popular culture.

"WHAT?" asked Sayaka, feeling like her ears were starting to ring.

"Nothing, let's-"






"MADE ANY BIG DECISIONS?" her new friend asked.

Sayaka tried to shrug eloquently. "I DUNNO, I'M STILL NOT SURE I WANT TO LET HER IN MY PANTS."

Of course, it was during that last sentence that the music abruptly came to a halt, and in the sudden, ringing silence, her last eight words echoed across the space. There were a few wolf whistles and a cat-call or two. Someone shouted "Then do it!" Somewhere, amid the throng of necks suddenly turning to seek out the mysterious shouter, Homura had the presence of mind to clamp her hands over Madoka's ears. Along the wall, Junko smiled as she took short, panting breaths, recovering from her forty-five straight minutes of dancing. Poor thing, so desperate for attention, she thought, pulling up the tight purple brassiere one-piece that had begun to hang dangerously low. She took one of the several cool beverages offered to her by a pack of handsome young men, nodding her appreciation graciously as she gulped down her drink.

Link's mouth hung open for a moment, looking almost fearfully embarrassed. Sayaka pretended to look around as well, as if to see who had shouted such a provocative statement. Her face was on fire, and it didn't help that the closest people were staring directly at her.

Kyoko would have choked on the cup of lychee jelly she was devouring if she'd heard the shout, but the girl currently dressed like a boy was not in the room. She continued to slurp them down, using her tongue to reach into the nooks and crannies for every last deliciously gelatinous drop.

She was somewhere else. Waiting.

Leaving the flashing lights, Link blinked the spots out of her vision as she walked down the hallway. She never noticed the shadow that emerged from an alcove littered with empty plastic cups, silently stalking behind her, cat-like, until they reached the end of the hall. She turned a corner, her stride confident, only to have her heart-rate triple as something behind her went "PSSST!"

She spun back, seeing a flash of crimson...

And then, nothing.

Standing there, watching the scene before her with no small amount of awkwardness, Sayaka felt a cold presence come up behind her. She spun around at the eerie feeling, only to see the black-from-head-to-foot Homura. Except for the pale crescent moon of exposed chest, or her alabaster complexion of her blank face, which reflected the bouncing, scattered lights in muted flashes of color.

"Ah, hello Akemi-san," the blunette began uncertainly. "That sure is a lot of... glow sticks you're wearing. Where's Madoka-chan?"

"She'll be here shortly," Homura said with unseemly anticipation. "But, before she arrives..." She held out a glossy black arm, a crumpled bag dangling from her finger and thumb.

Sayaka looked at the transfer student, but was unable to make anything out of her blank expression. She took the bag when Homura pushed it towards her. "Um, thanks?"

"It's not from me, idiot." Homura said frigidly. "It's from..."


Homura rolled her eyes, flipping her long hair over a shoulder. "Sakura-san."

Sayaka's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed suspiciously. "What? Why would she... why would you...?"

"Don't be a fool. Open it up."

Looking inside, the blunette found, of all things, a book! A manga with a kind of creepy looking blond chick and black-haired girl. Shiroi Heya no Futari. "Huh," she muttered to herself. "What the hell...?"

Homura continued to stare at her. "It's one of the older yuri manga out there. One character, Resine, joins a new boarding school only to find her roommate is this other girl named Simone, a rebel who is rude to her from the very start. Hmm, why does this sound familiar?" she asked rhetorically, Sayaka's blush confirming she understood what the transfer student was getting at. "However, despite the dubious nature of their relationship, Resine and Simone end up falling in love... "

Sayaka stared hard at the book, mind working furiously to absorb this... revelation.

"S-so... Kyoko gave this to you? To give to me?"

Homura's eyes narrowed. "Yes," she lied.

"That doesn't sound like-"

"Go talk to her, you fool! It's so... obnoxious, how you two flaunt your... whatever." Sayaka could have sworn Homura sounded jealous, if she hadn't know her to be a soulless automaton. "It's beginning to make me nauseous."

Homura smiled inwardly, seeing the seed she'd planted begin to take root. Sayaka had that pained look on her face that meant she was trying to think hard about something.

Things were starting to line up. With Mami having taken herself out of the picture, she only needed Sayaka and Kyoko out of the way... what better way to accomplish this than to get those volatile girls together, knowing they'd keep each other occupied until the inevitable explosion...

Madoka had hoped to be asked to dance, although she only had the haziest notion of what to expect from this kind of set up. The music was certainly... different. She looked at the shiny-black figure at her side; the gloss of her skin-tight suit transforming her body into a series of indistinct reflections of the multitude of glowing wrist-bands and necklaces she wore. The pinkette smiled, adjusting the glowing pink halo that Homura had made for her and placed on her head.

Several people had looked like they were approaching her, at least, they were looking at her before they started staring oddly at the transfer student at her side. Their friendly looks had disappeared, and each and every one turned away without giving her another glance. Am I that plain? wondered Madoka despairingly. She'd caught the looks the boys had given her chest, just before turning away... It's not fair. Mami, and for that matter her mother, got all the attention.

She'd forgotten about the precautionary sticker Junko had slapped on her, which Homura made every effort to point out. And failing that, Madoka had missed the raven-haired girl's backup plan.

Homura stared at another young man who approached, distinctly mouthing the words, "I'll kill you," complete with the finger slicing across the throat. He looked confused, the spiky blonde wig swaying as he came to an abrupt stop, so she followed up with a finger suggesting the next course of action. It worked, he retreated; as they all did, one after another. He would later describe the feeling as "Like the time I was downtown, and this crazy-ass homeless guy who'd been sniffing spray paint kept coming at me, digging for something in his pocket, and pulls out this big rusty knife. That wacked-out look in his eye... it was like I knew he was going to kill me. That time I was definitely freaked out. When that girl looked at me, though, I wasn't freaked out. I was scared shitless."

Currently, Madoka and Homura had a wide space to themselves, the nearby revelers having learned to keep their distance. Homura's ridiculously pointed heels had seen to that. Her purple eyes were wide and unseeing, her face blank, but that was pretty normal for Homura. It was her dancing, Madoka noted. Something about it...

As the electronica warmed up, Homura had gotten an excited look on her face, and the pinkette had been amazed as the girl had proceeded to totally trance out, moving all sinuously and flowing with the music like some kind of being made out of liquid.

After a half hour of her serpentine twisting, she'd changed. No longer flowing, she jerked her limbs, her movement seeming to stutter. It had taken Madoka a moment to realize Homura was doing The Robot. In actuality, Homura was strobing and waving, but it was an easy mistake to make for the uninitiated to the dying art.

And she was doing it well. Such control over her fine motor skills, the pinkette thought, a little breathlessly. She adjusted the pink collar around her slim neck, feeling suddenly constricted.

"Hey, Kyoko!"

Heart skipping a beat, the former red-head turned around guiltily, seeing the blunette approach her. Not stalking, and not looking furious... That was good, she thought with a sigh of relief.

"So... hi," Sayaka began, a bit hesitantly.

"Looks like your pointy-eared friend ditched you..." Kyoko began nonchalantly, making a show of looking around.

The blunette shook her head. "Nah, she went to bed. She's actually pretty cool, Kyoko. I think you'd like her."

"Wait, she was leaving?"

"Yeah, ah... wait, what? That's a strange way of putting it. She left. She was leaving, like, twenty minutes ago. You missed it, sorry." That year off of school has really taken its toll. Why does Kyoko suddenly look like she's just bitten into a lemon? Sayaka observed, then wondered. "Did you just eat a lemon again, Kyoko?"

"What? No! Ah, never mind. So..."

Sayaka held something up.

What the hell? I threw that crap in the garbage. "Where did you-"

"Thanks, although why you had to get Akemi-san to deliver it..." Sayaka's azure eyes bored holes into Kyoko, full of curiosity.

"Ah, well. I didn't... want to, you know, upset your new friend..." Homura, eh? Nosy little...

Sayaka shook her head. "I just don't get you. It's like the first nice thing you've ever done for me-"

"I think you're forgetting all the times I let you walk away from our duels instead of completely destroying you."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it. And, you know I held my own pretty well against you," the blunette stated definitively.

"Yeah, sure you did." Kyoko barely resisted a condescending head-pat, a flash if insight informing her that now was not the time.

A thought occurred to the blunette. "Wait a sec, did you steal this?"

"What? No, of course not. You can't steal someone a present."

"Oh. Okay, sorry. Thanks," Sayaka finished, grinning.


Homura noticed that Madoka was looking uncomfortable. Pausing to wipe futilely at the sweat dripping down her furrowed brow with a latex sleeve, she followed the pinkette's gaze.

A scantily, very scantily, clad voluptuous blonde was dancing amidst a harem of young men. And not so young, Homura noticed with disapproval. Her eyes darting back and forth to make sure nobody was watching, she grabbed a fistful of her long hair and used it to wipe the sweat from her eyes.

No, she's not... Homura didn't really have much respect for anyone, aside from her pinkette of course. She'd seen the blonde crack, seen her fail, seen her weaknesses drag her down before. Not as regularly as the stupid blunette, to be sure, but still... it was hard to be more disappointed with a person you'd seen break down and shoot her girlfriend in a fit of, well, insanity. But the way she was leaning back into those boys, shaking for all she was worth... No wonder Madoka looked ready to start crying.

"Hey, Madoki," she whispered, startling the pinkette and getting an actual jump out of her. Homura rubbed her chin where Madoka's shoulder had connected, wobbling for a moment in her boots.

"Oh! Sorry, Homura-chan! Are you alright? Did I hurt you? I'm so, so sorry, here let me help you." The pinkette didn't stop talking long enough for the taller girl to answer.

"So, are you ready to get out of here?" Homura asked. It was getting late, and she felt sticky inside of her essentially air-tight costume, and had really, really had to pee for the past hour and a half.

"Yes," Madoka agreed happily, before being yanked by the arm towards the exit. She looked at the determined expression of the transfer student as she weaved through the various bodies and limbs that blocked their path, three times using grabs and blows to forcibly open a path. The pinkette staggered along behind her, looking slightly embarrassed but mostly relieved to be leaving.

Suddenly, someone slammed into her, and she tilted back, arms flailing helplessly. Hitting the ground, she tried to roll but the outfit was too restrictive. She felt the boy land on top of her, some sweaty kid with longish brown hair and wearing some kind of greenish brown uniform covered in military-looking medals. "Watch where you're going, you little..." Her voice trailed off, eyes narrowing further, but this time in recognition. Those bright, earnest eyes, no doubt a contributing factor in the constant harassment the boy suffered in class... something was off about them. Looking closely, she noticed that, for one thing, he was really sweating, almost glistening in a sheen of moisture, his hair slicked back from his forehead.

And his eyes... they were black, not brown. Even in the dim lighting, she could see that his pupils were dilated to an unnatural degree.

"N-Nakazawa-kun?!" shrieked Madoka, bending down to give her classmate a helping hand. He got to his feet unsteadily, peering at the pinkette.

"Hey, kitty kitty kitty," he giggled, reaching out a hand to pet her head. Madoka leaned away, but Nakazawa was already falling to the floor again, victim of a masterful sweep kick by the ever-vigilant Homura, who was still on the ground. She used his solar plexus as leverage for her elbow as she arose, not looking at Madoka while grinning at the sound the foolish boy made.

On her feet, Homura eyed the boy warily. Something was definitely wrong with him. "What is wrong with you?" she demanded rudely, annoyed at the boy's vacant expression and Madoka's growing concern.

"Akemi-san? Wow. Wow. Um, did you make that outfit. Wow." He reached out a hand to touch the medallion at her chest, but it was slapped away instantly. "Ow. Man, you look good. You're always so uptight in class..." he drifted off, glazed eyes following the patterns of light playing across the floor.

"Nakazawa-kun, it's good to see you! I didn't know you were coming. What, um, what is your outfit?" She was curious about the greenish uniform, and the big funny looking "plus" that adorned his medals, or the strange, spiraling square that looked like it was made from four capitol "L's" from English, rotating around a central point, emblazoned on the red armband the boy wore.

"Madoka?" He stared, uncomprehending, for some moments. Homura felt obliged to poke him in the neck.

"Ow! My neck," he grimaced. "No, sorry, lost focus there. I, just, well you look amazing. Like, the hottest cat in this place," he smiled, before continuing "except that other cat girl, man she's wild! I hear she goes to our school! Lucky bastards have been trailing her around all day," he muttered, glancing around but unable to find his bearings.

"Watch where you're walking next time," the black-haired girl warned, towering over the boy in her boots. He seemed to cringe.

"What have you been doing here?" Madoka inquired, determined not to let Homura scare the poor boy away.

"Oh I'm here with... someone. I've been tripping balls for like two hours now, this stuff called Mol-"

"Nakazawa-kun!" The voice was instantly recognizable. On any given day, during the first few minutes of English, every student in Madoka's class had heard that name called that way a hundred times. Of all the luck, Homura thought to herself. She grabbed Madoka's arm and ran, incidentally sending the little German soldier sprawling once again.

As they were leaving, Sayaka caught sight of something that made her tense up. Kyoko, who'd had her arm around the girl's shoulders, felt it and turned to look. Her eyes narrowed, trying to make out the figures through the dim light.

Purple hair, those bare shoulders. She gently guided Sayaka toward the cluster of people, wanting to get a closer look. "No, let's go. Now," pleaded the blunette.

"Is that Junko?" Kyoko whispered, nodding her head at the purple hair amidst the group of people. Sayaka pressed her lips together stubbornly, but Kyoko approached the crowd relentlessly.

"Junko-san! Remember, don't be an ass. Yes, it is. And I don't want to go over there, that's-" she paused, seeing more than one familiar face around her best friend's mother. Junko stood next to another lady, grey-faced and candy-corn horned. "That's a troll, I guess, from Hopestruck or someth-"

"Yeah, I know. It's called Holestuck, I've heard people talking about it," she said knowingly. "Stupid. I heard about this thing, though, where people throw paint and shit at them, color them up a bit. Homestyle hunting, it's called." She looked at Sayaka expectantly.

"I think that's mostly a myth perpetuated by paranoid Tumblr rants. Who cares about them, anyway? That one in particular I don't want to see."

"Why?" Kyoko said, honestly curious.

"Promise not to say anything to anyone?" Sayaka whispered. Kyoko nodded, it sounded like gossip and Sayaka so rarely shared anything juicy with her. The blunette, for some reason, chose to believe her. "She's my teacher!"

"Man, that is some school you go to," she muttered wonderingly. Must be something about all those glass walls.

Then Sayaka noticed the boy standing next to them, sweating bullets in a dark green uniform festooned with Nazi symbology. What the hell... despite the slicked back hair, she recognized the boy who stood there, eyes closed, trembling as Saotome Kazuko seemed to pet the boy's head, running her fingers through his hair. The intensely blissful look on his face was quite disturbing.

"She doesn't look happy," Kyoko said, which made no sense to Sayaka since Kazuko did indeed appear to be enjoying herself with a rather smug smile. But then she looked at Junko, and saw what she could only describe as polite disdain as she stared at the pair, arms crossed.

"Damn, Madoka's mom is a total MILF," Kyoko commented. "Stacked," she added, using her hands for emphasis.

Sayaka was instantly embarrassed, and a more than a little pissed. "You're sick, that's her mother-"

"Don't even try and tell me you've never thought about her. In the shower, I bet?" Kyoko was gratified as the blunette's face flushed guiltily. "See? No harm in appreciating beautiful things. Speaking of which," she said, waggling her eyebrows obnoxiously.

"I really wish you hadn't cut your hair," Sayaka muttered, turning to leave, knowing the older girl would follow.

Kyoko put her hands to her head, the absence of her thick, tangled ponytail still disconcerting. She shrugged. It would grow back in a couple weeks anyway, right? She followed the blunette back to the room.

"Give that back!" Sayaka made a snatch for the plush Gatomon doll she had bought earlier that evening, but Kyoko pulled it back, mocking holding it up in the air.

"Get it back yourself," the older girl sneered playfully, as only Kyoko could pull off, dangling the prize before the blunette's eyes. Another futile, desperate grab and Sayaka felt the anger start to build within her.

"You're so childish! Gimme back my toy!" she shouted in the former red-head's face. Mami, who was looking rather blearily at the television, glanced over at the impending fight. She'd stumbled in just before Sayaka and Kyoko had returned, collapsing on the bed after splashing water on her face. She hadn't gotten up since.

"Girls," she began, half-heartedly. Madoka, uncomfortable with the increasing volume of the girls' argument, looked at her hopefully, but the blonde didn't appear to be willing to intercede further. A part of the pinkette died inside, seeing her idol's golden, bloodshot eyes lose interest in the squabble, abandoning her friend to the red-head's bullying.

There was a loud thud as Kyoko hit the television stand, her legs grasped by the blunette's clinging arms. Madoka's pink eyes widened further, watching as the flat screen swayed alarmingly.

"Ah. Um. Is anyone... hungry? I brought some snacks," the pinkette said, walking over to her bag. Homura smiled at her special friend's cleverness, playing on the other girl's weakness. One of her many weaknesses, the transfer student thought sourly.

"I could go for a slice of warm, fresh blueberry pie right about now," Kyoko stated in a way that left little room for misinterpretation.

Madoka frowned. "I... I don't have any pie," she began mournfully.

Homura scowled.

"You are so gonna get your world rocked tonight, lady," Kyoko said in one of those annoying stage-whispers, leering at Sayaka's tight white jumpsuit. Blushing, Sayaka pushed her off the bed, furious that she'd talk like this in front of Madoka.

"Stop it, ass!" she whispered fiercely. "You're embarrassing me!"

"You're about to get shafted so hard..." Kyoko's voice faltered, feeling a chill descending across the room. Sayaka's eyes were wide with fear... not the good kind, the red-head noticed. Even Mami and Homura were staring in shock and horror.

"I can't believe you'd say anything so evil, Sakura Kyoko!" Madoka yelled, upset and furious. The others turned their heads to stare at her in amazement. "You are absolutely disgusting-"

"Wha-a-" muttered Kyoko. She'd been heavy on the innuendo, but she couldn't help taking a step back as the pinkette advanced toward her, shaking, of all things, her finger...

"You should be nice to Sayaka-chan, not threatening her with some horrible fate where you have to watch your friends descend into despair and hopelessness and watch them die over and over just to fulfill some sick need to convey the meaningless of life-"

"And," added Mami helpfully, "it's especially painful when all the best characters die first."

Sayaka nodded. "It's like the Game of Thrones. Kill off the awesome one's to cause the most pain for the readers. Cheap way to create an emotional response..."

"I thought it was a show on Skinimax," supplied Kyoko, wanting to be part of the conversation.

"Um no, some other one. But with those gratuitous scenes in the first season... I mean the book was bad enough, why change-"

"We're getting off topic! Stop being mean, Kyoko-san! I mean it!" Madoka was practically quivering with fury. Actually, more like shaking with unfamiliar quantities of adrenaline pumpiing through her body. Homura smiled, so, so proud.

Holy crap, is this chick for real? Kyoko choked back her pride and bared her teeth in the friendliest snarling grin she could manage, raising her hands in surrender. "I promise, I'll only be nice and gentle to Sayaka for the rest of the night." She glanced at the blunette with a strange expression. "Unless you tell me otherwise," she added under her breath. The blunette blushed again, shaking her head in consternation.

They watched tv for a few minutes. Kyoko was feeling pretty frisky, and had no interest in wasting the night watching some stupid nature program.

"Come in the room with me. Come with me, Sayaka," she repeated with slightly different emphasis. Mami's narrowed eyes snapped on the red-head, disapproving.

"N-no, we're watching this show in here," the blunette said, flustered. "Besides, I don't trust you," she added, sticking out her tongue to make her point. For a moment, Kyoko was tempted to bite it.

"Aww, is the obnoxiously hot little babe nervous about being alone with me?"

"What do you think?" The blunette pushed the red-head back. "Last time you practically ambushed me, and then you somehow convinced me to let you have your way with-" Sayaka cut off, too late, remembering that this wasn't a private conversation. She choked, feeling every eye in the room staring at her. "I... I mean..." she blushed furiously, feeling the molten core of the sun immolating her cheeks.

Kyoko had that stupid smirk on her face, but a little color was creeping into her face as well. Mami's eyebrows were rising, rising... the politely amused look slowly becoming increasingly more judgmental, full of impending recrimination.

Madoka just looked at her friend curiously, waiting for her to finish, not understanding the subtext... until Homura leaned close and began to whisper in her ear. The pink eyes grew wide with shock, and for several moments her gasp was the only sound in the room.

"Well, look at the time," Mami said suddenly, with a very shady expression. Sayaka thought her normally innocent-looking face looked a little too innocent all of a sudden. "I promised a... friend I'd meet hi-... them. Pretty soon, so..." She walked to the door. "I'll see you later. ~Don't wait up~," she snickered, before shutting the door.

Another uncomfortable silence descended. "What's gotten into her?" Madoka asked, upset at feeling ignored by her mentor.

"What hasn't gotten into her?" Kyoko mused innocently, before Sayaka elbowed her in the gut. Madoka furrowed her brow, confused.

"Why's she being all... why isn't she hanging out with us more?" the pinkette wailed.

"She was talking about a boy she met..." Homura began enticingly, before trailing off. The others looked at her attentively.

"And?" Kyoko asked, finally. I think she's met a lot of boys today, she thought darkly.

"Well, she was talking about some cute guy she was excited to see... some kind of actor or something. Anyway, yeah."

"Yeah? That's it? What's so special about him?"

"I don't know, but she really was, um, excited to see him. Again, I gather," she added knowingly. Sayaka and Kyoko couldn't help but chuckle, and Madoka smiled politely, not understanding what was funny but not wanting to be left out. "And I guess he's very popular... she mentioned people kept asking him to say some kind of European food in a silly voice."

"That's... strange. What's his name?"

"I didn't catch it. Something like caramel corn, I think."

"Never heard of him. Sounds yummy, though," Kyoko admitted.

The conversation died again, and they watched another few minutes of television in silence.

Before long, Kyoko started up again. "I have a package you need to box in the other room."

Sayaka punched Kyoko in the crotch, then winced, staring at her hand. "Ow!"

"Ow!" The blunettes fist connected with something that jabbed Kyoko most uncomfortably. Grabbing her groin with both hands, she rolled off the bed, out of sight against the wall. Sharing a glance at Homura and Madoka, who were watching with apathy and tense concern, respectively, Sayaka leaned over to check on the older girl.

Homura saw the hand dart up like leather-covered lightning, grabbing the blunette by the collar of her shirt and pulling her down. R-r-r-rip.

Sayaka froze in the midst of her struggle with Kyoko, hearing the horrible sound of the high collar around her neck being torn apart. Kyoko saw the suddenly wild look in the azure eyes that burned with righteous fury, and quickly fled, rolling over the bed before trying to leap over Homura and Madoka, making for the door.

She never had a chance. Sayaka full-body tackled her into the wall, barely missing Homura in the process. Some grunting and struggling from the side of the bed followed, before Kyoko got away, crawling desperately for the door to the ajoining room. She stood up at the threshold, turning back to see the oncoming blur of blue rage.

Sayaka pushed Kyoko though the open doors, watching the one-time red-head bounce of a bed before slamming into the ground. Seeing her opportunity, she rushed forward, at the last moment pausing, her foot hooking around the door, closing with a slam.

Madoka sat on the bed, hands clasped nervously to her chest. Did Sayaka-chan just close the door? she wondered. She heard a loud grunt from the other room, and the sound of something hitting the wall.

Looking at Homura in confusion, the pinkette didn't know what to do. "Homura-chan, should we... they're fighting... Can't we-"

Homura shook her head, a wise look on her face. "No, Madoki," she whispered in smaller girl's ear, pausing to take a long sniff of Madoka's hair... Strawberries. I can't believe I'm allergic. "It's... something they have to work out for themselves."

THUD. It sounded as if something had been thrown against the wall between the adjoining rooms.

"It has been such a fun day so far, Madoki," Homura stated simply, smiling at the pinkette. "Thank you for inviting me."

"It was you're idea, silly," Madoka began.

"Yes, well... being here with you. That is what made it such a great day." Homura continued to smile warmly at the smaller girl, who began to feel a little self conscious, playing with her cat ears.

Homura continued to sit, staring at Madoka, smiling.

Alls well that ends well, right?

Thanks for all the reviews, I'll try and address a few things. I hope it was at least somewhat amusing, humorous writing isn't something I find easy, so special thanks to those of you who let me know what worked.

Sasaki, the vocaloid mirroring was a great idea, I just really know so little about them, other than that there is a thing called a vocaloid... although it was initially described to me as a dancing robot. I can see how Link could be seen to be Hitomi, but she wasn't. Thanks for all the in depth reviews!

Shadow, I was so happy you figured out who she was. I was pretty vague, and basically one tiny description was all you had to go on. I really appreciate all of your comments and contributions!

Kyosaya I did make Kyoko really mean and cold hearted. Mostly because I tried to exaggerate character traits. I know deep down she's not like that. A special spoiler just for you: she didn't kill the elf-girl. Hylean. Whatever. To find out what happened, well... it will be cleared up, but not here.

Drinkie and Dessert I loved the feedback about Homura's little rant.

Faust, I think Mr. Kaname agrees with whatever Mrs. Kaname says. Especially if it gets digitally recorded.

Captain Firepower: those were to of my favorite parts.

Robotferret and Psykoakuma, thanks for the initial interest that helped get me going on this.

Hope this brought maybe a smile or an uncomfortable chuckle to your day at some point. What's next? Use your imagination, happy ending or not. I tried to leave them in a place where things could go any which way. Even sideways.

Or, if you'd prefer not to, there will be a gratuitously mature follow up. I know right? Like, this wasn't gratuitous enough? It's name will be obvious. But really, what fun is that compared with the power of imagination?