Weekend. A coffee shop.
"In roughly two weeks, a 'Walpurgisnacht' will descend on this city."
"Walpurgisnacht?"
Sayaka had been invited out by the last person she expected and now sat staring at Homura Akemi in confusion.
Homura studied the Soul Gem pendant around Sayaka's neck—dazzling and utterly free of corruption. Despite still having gone through the ordeal of handing her secret crush over to someone else, this Timeline's Sayaka was in a mental state as good as the rare few Timelines where she'd actually ended up with Kyosuke.
Come to think of it, Sayaka and Kyoko Sakura had been getting along remarkably well these past few days.
With so many Timelines to compare against, the pattern was painfully obvious to Homura.
"It's said to be a super-class Witch passed down through generations of history—unlike other Witches, it doesn't need to hide inside a Labyrinth to act."
Homura closed her eyes briefly. She still couldn't quite bring herself to trust that this variant of the Magical Girl system came with zero drawbacks.
"It'll most likely appear around here." Homura pointed at a spot on the Mitakihara map. "It's a Witch I can't defeat on my own. If it isn't stopped in time, it could start from Mitakihara and keep spiraling outward until the entire world is reduced to nothing."
To ordinary people who couldn't perceive Walpurgisnacht, it would probably look like a catastrophic storm.
"Phew…"
Sayaka studied the transfer student for a long moment.
Now that she thought about it, it wasn't just Kyoko—she'd gone and whispered that whole misunderstanding right into Kyoko's ear the other day…
Sayaka buried her head in her hands.
I want to die. This is all Yimi's fault!
"Is this like a standard Magical Girl sensing ability? Can't say I'm jealous."
Sayaka glanced at Homura with slightly flushed cheeks. "I've barely even fought any Witches and now I'm supposed to handle pressure like this? Feels like I'm being thrown in at the deep end… Fine, I get it. I'll help when the time comes. Excuse me."
She left—partly because she couldn't quite look Homura in the eye.
A rare Timeline where Sayaka was actually civil to Homura Akemi.
Homura vividly remembered that even in the very first loop—back when she'd still been a naive pushover—Sayaka had looked down on and excluded her. Because the clumsy Homura of those days had relied on tossing explosives, and Sayaka's close-combat style made her especially vulnerable to friendly fire.
...
While Homura was out, she had no idea an uninvited guest had crept into her home.
Thump-thump-thump-thump—
Cat-form Yimi stood before the front door, repeatedly kicking it with her hind legs. Despite the relentless assault, nobody came to answer.
It was the weekend, and tracking down Sayaka would mean picking up her scent trail, so Yimi had designated Homura as her next target instead.
She waited a while. Then, with absolutely no concept of trespassing, the little cat measured the old-fashioned mail slot with her whiskers, squeezed her head through, and poured the rest of herself in like liquid.
"Mrow." (^_^)
Yimi shook her head, took two steps forward—then her ears shot up. She caught faint, peculiar scraping sounds coming from behind her. Before she could react, something bumped into her rear end.
"MROW!"
Scared the life out of her—she launched straight into the air.
It was a disc-shaped creature crawling across the floor. Little bits of debris vanished wherever it passed.
No scent of any normal living thing. She hadn't seen this creature during the night she'd stayed at Homura's place, either.
Yimi crouched low, assumed her hunting posture, and stealthily stalked the strange thing before pouncing on top of it.
To her surprise, the creature was unexpectedly strong—it actually carried her around while she sat on its back.
Yimi had an excellent idea. If she could put a cushion on top of this thing to make it more comfortable, then train it over time, couldn't it learn to go wherever she directed?
Kitty had invented the saddle!
Then Homura's hand appeared from somewhere above, grabbed the scruff of her neck, and lifted the cat to face level.
Yimi blinked at her in confusion. "How come you didn't knock?"
"..."
Homura set her down and checked the kitchen—mercifully, no signs of use. The only thing that had been disturbed was the robot vacuum.
"What kind of animal is this?" Yimi shifted back to human form and crouched down, pressing the robot vacuum in place to keep it from driving off.
Homura crouched beside her and pried away her mischievous little hands. "It's a vacuum. A machine, not an animal."
After Kyubey had spoken up in Yimi's defense during their last encounter, Homura had essentially cleared the child of suspicion—for now—so her attitude had softened considerably.
Homura wasn't truly cold. She wasn't even the kind of deliberately closed-off kuudere that Origami styled herself as. It was simply that repeated failures across her loops had taught her to mask herself behind that expression.
In the earliest loops, among the Magical Girls who frequented Mitakihara, Homura had actually been the softest-hearted one—softer even than Madoka.
"A machine?" Yimi looked at the robot vacuum, and another brilliant idea struck her.
Put a cozy box on top, then have the manufacturer install a driving function. That way, Kitty could lie in her nest and still get wherever she needed to go.
Kitty had invented the camper van!
But now wasn't the time to display her staggering intellect.
Yimi pulled out the only dish that had earned a positive review so far and offered it to Homura. "This is… for you."
"I'm not eating anything you bring out." Homura eyed the skewer, still radiating warmth, and cast another confirming glance at the kitchen.
Her apartment definitely didn't own a grill.
An item stored in the storage space overnight came out as fresh and warm as the moment it went in.
"The red one said it was really good." Yimi stepped closer and tugged Homura's hand, swinging it back and forth. "Just one bite? It's not Kyubey meat."
It was cooked Kyubey meat.
"..."
Looking at the hopeful little face, Homura accepted it for the time being. She took one careful bite.
Two chews later, she spat it expressionlessly into the trash can beside her. The cold facade she'd been so carefully maintaining nearly crumbled into the same face a certain someone had made after tasting that infamous nine-turn intestine.
"Not good?" Kitty's ears drooped sadly.
Seeing that, Homura lowered the hand she'd started to raise. "It's terrible."
Yimi didn't understand. How could the exact same meat grilled on the exact same kind of fire pass the test for one person and not another?
Could the difference be in their Soul Gems?
Yimi extended her paws toward Homura. "Let me see your Soul Gem."
Homura slid her ring-bearing hand into her pocket and turned to walk toward her room.
"Hmph." Yimi clasped both hands together and scurried on her short legs to get ahead of Homura, deliberately holding her cupped hands on the opposite side so Homura couldn't see.
Homura looked her way; Yimi swiveled her hands to the other side.
Pretending she had a treasure of her own—but she wasn't going to show the Black One.