"Whatever it is you're trying to do, don't even think about making Madoka a Magical Girl."
Homura deftly assembled the firearm in her hands. She'd acquired all of this from the underworld.
"My Magical Girls… are harmless."
"How can anyone who bears the responsibility of fighting Witches be harmless?"
Homura still wasn't buying Yimi's harmlessness theory. At the very least, she needed to observe how Sayaka was doing first.
The little cat acted like a small child, which made even the secretly soft-hearted Homura lower her guard involuntarily—but that didn't rule out the possibility that someone behind the scenes had fooled the cat along with everyone else.
If this turned out to be yet another conspiracy, and the one person who could reset got caught up in it too, then everything would truly be over.
"She might get hurt. She might even die. And if Madoka learns that other Magical Girls could become Witches, just knowing that would be a kind of harm to her."
"Then she just… won't fight."
Yimi bit into the lollipop Homura had bought her, swinging her legs on the stool.
"With Madoka's personality, once she becomes a Magical Girl there's no way she'd just stand by and ignore a Witch. Don't make me restart and pile even more karmic destiny onto her."
"Restart?"
"It's nothing. Madoka should have a normal life. Go to school like an ordinary person, grow up, and… fall in love."
After that last word, Homura inexplicably turned her gaze away. "How's your research on heat death going?"
She didn't particularly care about the end of the universe, but as long as that problem existed, Kyubey would never stop recruiting new Magical Girls—and new schemes would keep hovering over Madoka's head.
"Failed."
"I see."
No surprise there. The primordial secrets of the universe weren't the sort of thing anyone cracked easily.
Yimi propped herself up on her knees, gripped the back of the chair, and looked at Homura. "What flavor of meat… do you like?"
"I don't like any flavor of Kyubey. It makes me feel like I ate a rat."
"Hmm."
This was the second time someone had disparaged her toys. She was considering whether to catch a mouse for the Black One to play with—let her experience the joy firsthand.
Ding-dong~
The doorbell rang. It certainly wasn't the parents she'd never met in any previous loop.
Homura pulled a cord, and the firearms she'd rigged to a pulley retracted automatically into a hidden compartment. She still tucked one pistol on her person before checking the peephole.
Because she couldn't rule out Mami Tomoe—the senpai whose heart was actually quite fragile—having learned the truth about Magical Girls and Witches, then snapping and trying to eliminate the other Magical Girls before they could transform.
It was Madoka.
Homura glanced down to check her appearance, then opened the door. "Come in."
"I actually came to pick up Yimi—she told me she was coming here… Um, but I also have something I want to talk to you about, Homura." The address was something Yimi had provided, too.
Homura nodded.
Madoka had listened to her last time and was properly calling her by her first name now.
Stepping inside, Madoka scanned the somewhat spartan room and found Yimi in a chair, flipping through a cookbook. She breathed a sigh of relief.
A little nervously, Madoka turned to Homura. "It's just—whether it's you or Sayaka, it seems like you're both deliberately keeping something from me. You've both said things like 'don't become a Magical Girl,' but neither of you has told me why…"
This wasn't the kind of thing a person could simply not care about. Sayaka had obviously been hiding something lately—she'd even put the whole business with Kyosuke and Hitomi on the back burner—and yesterday's conversation had been telling. After school, Sayaka had gone straight to that red-haired Magical Girl she'd fought before, said something or other, and the expression on Mami-senpai's face—who'd been standing not far off—had been like something out of a TV variety show.
Madoka had actually wanted to sit Sayaka down today for a proper talk, but Sayaka seemed busy with something else. On the phone, she could faintly hear the red-haired Magical Girl's noisy voice in the background…
Hearing Madoka's words, Homura parted her lips ever so slightly.
She was still only a fourteen-year-old girl. In past loops, whenever she'd been alone with Madoka like this, she'd always given in to the urge to pour out everything—the truth about being trapped in these loops.
But things were trending so well right now. All that was left was to break through Walpurgisnacht. How could she let a teenage girl's feelings ruin everything?
Homura bit her lower lip and clenched her fist slightly, looking as though she were steeling herself for something drastic—which made Madoka a little startled.
"Before I transferred in, did the second-years at Mitakihara Middle School have health class yet… No, I suppose that doesn't really have anything to do with it."
"Wh-why are we suddenly on this topic?" Madoka didn't quite follow, but she had a bad feeling.
"This kind of thing." Homura gripped the hem of her skirt, eyes sliding to one side.
She beckoned Madoka closer—the gesture of someone wanting to whisper a secret.
"The truth is, I've also been holding back this whole time…"
...
...
Twenty minutes later, Madoka walked out of Homura's apartment—eyes vacant, face crimson.
That should do it, right? She didn't know how Madoka would see her now, but at least the girl should be able to walk away from the world of Magical Girls.
Homura was equally vacant-eyed. She closed the front door gently, leaned her back against it, and slowly sank to the floor, head in her hands.
Color gradually returned to Madoka's eyes. She watched the little cat ahead of her, hopping from one white paving stone to the next.
"Yimi, is all of that true? The price Magical Girls have to pay…"
"Kyubey's version, yes. Kitty's version, no."
Yimi stopped on a white stone and looked up at the next one.
It was very far away. No way to clear it without a running start.
She stretched both arms toward Madoka.
Madoka understood the request and picked her up, ferrying her to the next white stone.
Madoka was just a fourteen-year-old girl herself. Lifting a child who was under ten—probably around seven—was a bit of a strain. Human form was a lot heavier than cat form, but the psychological readiness for carrying "a little girl" versus "a cat" was different, so short-range transport was manageable.
"Did Sayaka… have to pay that kind of price?" Madoka wasn't sure, because Homura had said Yimi might also be an unwitting pawn who didn't understand anything.
And besides—Homura had told her something that embarrassing, throwing all caution to the wind.
"But I promised the Black One I wouldn't make a contract with Madoka." Yimi stopped and looked up. "So can you convince… Tomohisa to become a Magical Girl?"
"That's definitely not happening—Papa is a grown man, you know." Madoka managed a strained laugh.
Behind her eyes, the faint shimmer of that dream—the one where she'd seen Homura before they'd ever met—seemed to flicker again. There was this persistent feeling that she couldn't just leave that girl alone.
She wasn't sure what to make of it.
"Why did Homura specifically tell you not to let me become a Magical Girl? Is it because we live together?"
Madoka was puzzled.
If the price was just something a little embarrassing, someone still needed to be out there protecting the world. Strictly speaking, she and Homura were just classmates who'd barely talked a handful of times—they hadn't even officially become friends yet.
"She said something earlier… about 'restarting.'" Yimi struggled to count on her fingers, not understanding the word.
Kitty always managed to latch onto the single most important word in a sentence.
She added: "She also said you should have a normal love life."
Because when Homura had said those things, the word "love" was the only one she'd spoken in a noticeably strained tone—so that was the one Yimi remembered.
"Restart?" Madoka's steps halted. She'd finally caught something.
Yes—why had she dreamed of Homura before they'd even met? What if those weren't just dreams, but things she'd actually lived through?
Was that even possible? Then again, wishes coming true was already a thing that existed.
That would explain it—the reason Homura was so singularly fixated on protecting her… That girl had been carrying everything alone this whole time?
Singularly?
Madoka's expression froze. "Homura said I should have a normal love life?"
What kind of relationship had they had before? Weren't they both girls? And she hadn't even considered dating anyone before college!