- This might not surprise you, but Sayaka and Kyouko are still happily married.
- Kyouko is a working fire fighter, and one of the most successful since she is explicitly a magi. She refuses to enter administrative work, because she knows where she's best at. And it ain't pushing papers.
- Sayaka is now head of Magi Administration. This bores her to tears, but it's necessary to keep young magi as safe as possible. It is essentially an extension of her previous work as a major magi in Mitakihara.
- Mitakihara is a test case for the rest of the world when it comes to handling magi and magi-related matters. This is especially necessary as Metaphysics becomes better understood.
- The Incubators have vanished. The reasons are thusfar unknown.
It's been three years since Rin died, and Miho Miki is reading a trashy romance novel. Her partners are currently out, her husband in town somewhere and her wife at work. Miho herself finished a workout earlier that morning. She's dressed in a System of a Down t-shirt, a pair of jean shorts, and some old slippers, a hot cup of tea to her right.
She gives it a sip. Turns the page. Laughs at a line about someone with a meat rod and a glorious cavern. And then she hears the knock on the door. She blinks, then grasps at the table beside her. It takes a few tries, but she eventually finds her phone.
She smiles as she gets to her feet. Her slippers squeak a little as they leave concrete and enter tile, her fingers tracing the wall before her right hand meets a doorknob.
She pulls it open. And sure enough...
"Sayaka?" Miho smiles wider as her daughter, dressed in slacks and suspenders with a tie around her neck, strolls in.
Sayaka stretches her arms into her air, opens her mouth, and lets her jaw snap a little bit. "Hey, Mom. It's been a little while."
"A little while?" Miho snorts. "Try five months. How's Minako?"
"They're doing alright. School started up again after break and they're getting into their final year. Would you believe that Kazuko's teaching again?"
"Kazu...oh, Saotome? As in Junko's friend?"
"Yes." Sayaka crosses her legs. "But that's really not what I'm, like...kind of thinking about. I had a talk with my wife last night about just..."
"About everything?"
"That's...one way to put it." She sighs and it makes Miho a little uncomfortable.
Miho moves her left hand over. Two rings sparkle on her left hand, one for her wife Yasuko and the other for her husband Trudy. She puts it on Sayaka's shoulder. "So...is it 'cause you think something bad's gonna happen?"
"Perhaps." Sayaka rolls. her shoulder. "I thought about it with Kyouko and she kinda noticed that I was...getting mopey."
"You've always done that."
Sayaka glances to her mother. "I mean, you're right, but you shouldn't say it."
Miho laughs. "Sayaka, you're my child. You are a lot like me. Strong to a fault. You assume that the waves crashing on that rock won't just wear it down."
"The ocean wins," Sayaka finishes. "The ocean takes the stone back with her to the sea. But I mentally prepared for the worst." Another pause. "I haven't fought a witch in three years. I should be elated, but I'm...more confused than anything. Like I don't know what to do with myself."
"You're helping magi find their way, right?"
"I am. It's my job now." She laughs. "I suppose the police department was never really that great a fit; it never even was my job."
"You were always a magi first," Miho whispers. "Shit, it's been so long. I forgot how upset I was when I found out what that meant."
"When I told you?"
"When you told me. I think I did the same thing you did and just expected...worse." Another pause. "How much of that do you think is because we simply didn't expect better?"
"Like the old world needed to exist? I used to think the universe balanced itself. Despair and hope. And we were actively refusing it by just being. Walpurgisnacht's grief seed was a big fuck you to Incubator, but..." Sayaka trails off.
"You thought that we still needed Kyubey." It's not a question.
Sayaka doesn't answer. Instead, she sits and stares into the city.
And Miho doesn't say anything back. Instead, she just stares off, too.
And neither of them have much to talk about after that.
[=]
- Miho is married to her partners now. She's still opting out of having kids herself, but her spouses are absolutely ready.
- Yasuko is actually studying metaphysics under Yuki's tutelage. She is deeply ingrained with the magi process.
- Trudy still works as an engineer in Mitakihara's last refinery.
Warning: This story contains frank discussions about a deeply unhealthy relationship, and discusses emotional abuse and trauma.
It's been four years since Rin's death, and Madoka can feel herself getting sore as she gets up in the morning.
She knows that Homura's home because she can hear a coffee grinder in the other room; Homura always did prefer making coffee from whole bean. Stays fresher for longer, she insisted. Madoka laughs a little to herself. Homura always was a little bit of a snob, and she did spend a couple of years in Melbourne. The woman probably picked up a smidge of snobbery from there.
A kettle hisses and screeches and yep, Homura's on the press. Perfectly timed, only as someone with precise control over time can manage.
Madoka takes a walk inside. She's wearing nothing but the blanket, because she's both too tired to get dressed and too cold to actually walk up to Homura. But it's not too cold for her to grab a tiny little cup of coffee, small enough to fit comfortably in her hands, and give it a little sip. After all, Madoka Kaname has never been a particularly large woman.
Homura glances over. "Any opinions on breakfast?"
"Over easy. Two slices of toast. Do we have any meat?"
In a flash, Homura has a pan with bacon sizzling on it over an empty range.
"Guess that answers that."
"Apologies. I forgot about it."
"Hah." Madoka sips her cup again, careful not to spill anything on her blanket. She sits down, pulls up her phone, and scrolls through the news. A few notes about magi and how soul energy is easily one of the most efficient modes of power. She snorts a little bit. Nobody has seen Incubator in over a year.
And honestly, good riddance to bad rubbish. Her thumb scrolls across the crystalline surface, past different news articles with strange slants and attention-grabbing, gibberish headlines, and she pauses. The thought of Incubator made her think about the fight that caused all this to happen and, by extension, the reason she and Homura came back to Mitakihara.
She raises her head and asks a question that she put too much thought into, one that slowly grew over the course of several years of sex and dialogue...
"...so what are we?"
Homura doesn't turn as she replies with "Friends, right?"
"Are we?" Madoka sips her coffee. "I mean, 'friends that fuck' isn't...unheard of."
"Mmhm. Ergo, friends."
"But are we?" Madoka says, a bit more pointedly. "Homura...I think there's something more going on."
"There's not."
Madoka furrows her brow. "O...kay." She glances to the trash can by the counter. "Ah, the trash is full. I'll-"
"Done." The trash can is fresh as new in the time it takes for Madoka to blink.
Madoka frowns. "You're being a bit terse."
"I'm a terse person."
"Stop dismissing me."
"I'm not," Homura says as she flips a piece of bacon over. "I don't think this is worth a conversation."
"I think it is."
"Well I don't."
Madoka clicks her tongue. "We're not doing this again."
That makes Homura pause. "...excuse me?"
"This. We're not doing this again. Fuck me running, Homura. I thought you said you learned!"
"I did learn." Homura turns around. "What are you talking about? Learn what?"
Madoka opens her mouth. But then she notices Homura panting. Her chest is heaving a little bit. Her pupils are dilated, her mouth hangs open, and she looks like she's ready for an attack, ready to strike. It's then that Madoka realizes that this isn't going to work, and worse, she doesn't know what "this" refers to.
She frowns. "...when's your next appointment?"
Homura's grip on the spatula loosens. "Oh...oh, it's...it's tomorrow."
"You haven't been keeping anything from them, have you?"
Madoka, of course, doesn't listen to Homura and feels pretty terrible about it all day.
She was off for the month; her job has flexible hours and she was able to take time off for herself. She's in good shape, but a mess mental-health wise. It perhaps has something to do with having a sword of Damocles hanging over her life ever since Homura crashed into it.
And then kept crashing into the same month for a decade.
Madoka wonders if she should have gone to therapy herself, only to shake her head. Therapy is for people that need it more. It's not her issue. She's fine (she's not, and she's not even that good at lying to herself), and it'll be alright (after a few glasses of bourbon). Besides, she doesn't have the time (a lie; she could just cut out the hours of watching bad soaps) and she doesn't have the funds (also a lie, since it;s covered by the Mitakiharan government).
She'll probably have to actually find a therapist later. In a month. Or five.
It's fine.
Which is why she finds herself in the bar just next door to Tatsuya and his husband's new apartment complex. It's not quite the same as the one they owned before Mitakihara was destroyed, but it's still theirs, with tiled floors and a solid wood countertop. She sips her drink, a tall Suffering Bastard with a sprig of mint, and tries not to pay attention to the fact that it's eleven in the morning and drinking this early is a terrible idea.
And it's easy to ignore it until she hears a door open behind her, and it becomes far harder to ignore when she hears two sets of footsteps behind her and a pair of voices she recognizes immediately.
"Doka?"
"Hey, Sayaka." Madoka leans back. "Akane."
Sayaka sits on Madoka's left, Akane to her right. Sayaka raises her hand and says "IPA."
Akane shakes her head and ask for "one piña colada."
"Heh. The therapist is day drinking."
Akane leans over, the bar itself creaking as she smirks. "I'm not alone and I'm not drinking to be miserable. I simply think solidarity matters."
Sayaka sticks out her tongue. "Oh, please."
"Actually, I was definitely drinking because I'm sad." Madoka raises her cocktail. "Homura problems."
A pause. Sayaka scowls. And Madoka immediately raises her hands.
"DIFFERENT Homura problems. Different ones." She raises her drink to her lips. She sips, and the taste of rum and orange and mint runs down her throat. "I think...well, I asked her what we were. And I don't think she knew."
"Well, do you?"
"Of course not." Madoka sips her drink. "I mean...shit, circumstances are different now. We moved back to Mitakihara. We live together...I mean we're co-paying rent and all that. She said we're friends that fuck sometimes. And...I mean, I kind of agree?"
"But do you?" Sayaka leans over. "Do you really?"
"Oh, don't do that kind of thing with me, Sayaka. I know myself well enough to know that I'm catching feelings all over again." Madoka puts her lips around the straw again and sips a little more. "I'm not daft."
"But you really wish you weren't," Akane says. "Am I right?"
"You are." Madoka sighs and closes her eyes. "I'm so tired. When did I get so tired? I'm almost forty. Where did the time even go?"
"Hey, we're also almost forty."
Madoka shoots Sayaka a very pointed look. She glances up and down, then takes a long, deep breath. "I should've contracted. I should've made a wish."
"Haha, no." Sayaka presses her chin into her knuckles. "You're better off like this."
"The bags under my eyes have bags. I'm starting to look as tired as I feel." Madoka rubs her temples.
"You still look like you're in your twenties." Sayaka shrugs. "You've been in the Americas too long. It's making you think you age like a white person."
"Easy for you to say, you haven't aged at all." Madoka sticks out her tongue. "Ugh. When did I become this."
"Old?"
"No." Madoka presses a hand against her forehead. "A bitch. I don't even think like I used to. I was nice once. I think it stopped when I hit twenty. What happened to that? Now I just..." She stares at the drink in her hand and a realization creeps across her face. "Oh, fuck me, I'm turning into my mother."
"Not gonna lie, you were kinda already there."
Madoka sighs. "I...hrm. You're right. You're right and right and that's terrible."
"How's work been, by the by?" Akane asks. "I heard you were moving forward with a new contract?"
"Well, we were. Then two of the guys I was working with got canned. So that put a damper on things."
"What happened?"
"Sexual harassment," Madoka says, simply. "I reported them." She rubs her temple. "It's just...I thought we were past this, too. It's why I took the month off."
Sayaka clenches her jaw. "You got ignored, didn't you?"
"Surprisingly, no. It's not like that time you had in the MPD."
Sayaka sighs. "I mean that's...good, at least. And they were canned?"
"Yes. Which, you know what, I'll take it. I'd rather they got arrested, but I'll take what I can get." Madoka sips her drink again. "I'm just so, so tired."
The bartender rolls a coconut over to Akane, and a glass and a bottle to Sayaka.
Sayaka raises her glass. "To being fucking tired."
Madoka almost laughs. "Hah. To being fucking tired."
Akane sighs. "To being tired."
They clink them together and drink. Sips turn into chug, as all three of them down their drinks in short order. Madoka leans forwards, slides her cup forward, and wipes her mouth. "But enough about that. Let's talk about lesbians."
"Hi." Sayaka waves her hand. "Well, bi, but y'know."
Akane chuckles and says, "I'm the token straight."
"I'm also pan, I know. I'm in the know. I been knew."
Sayaka points to her and whispers to Akane, "She been knew."
"She been knew?"
"I been knew." Madoka laughs. "This is dumb. Hey, remember when I was crushing on you?"
"Wait, what?" Sayaka blinks. "I thought that was middle school."
"Yes, yes. It was also when I thought you were going to try dating Kyousuke."
"Oh please, that was ages ago." Sayaka laughs again. "I was so upset. He was why I made that dumb wish at all." She looks at the ring on her finger. "Then I just...met my wife."
"You're a catastrophe." Madoka laughs. "Though...well, I was about ready to make a wish for Homura, too. Only to break up almost a decade later." She sighs. "It's just...I don't know. Was she the one that wrecked me? Things can't have been that bad."
"Oh, no, they were," Akane says, promptly. "Speaking as your friend, she was terrible. And to a degree they still are."
"Well, she's gotten better." Sayaka shrugs. "At least she's actually going to therapy. It's an improvement."
"You decked her when you met her again," Madoka says, bluntly. "Like, straight-up punch to the face."
"And I'd do it again."
"Sayaka, don't punch my girlfriend."
"I'mma do it."
"Don't punch her."
"I'mma do it."
Madoka then presses her full palm into Sayaka's face. "No."
"Yesh. Fufck you."
And that is what causes Madoka to break out in laughter as she doubles over. "Oh my god it's like you haven't aged a day!"
Akane just sighs and sips her drink. "So...I've known you and Homura about as long as you've known each other. So I have to ask." Akane leans over. "What's different this time? Aside from the decade apart. What makes you different this time?"
This makes Madoka pause. She takes a side glance over to Sayaka, who quietly pushes her hand off of her face, and that mischief has faded away.
"I...hrm." Madoka takes a look down. "I..."
"We both know this matters."
"No, it does. I'm just...I'm thinking." Madoka leans back. "Actually...I think I know the difference this time."
[=]
In another part of town, Homura sits in a coffee shop. It's the middle of the day and she has a mason jar of cold-brew. She sips it, glancing over to the right. And it's then that the door swings open. A woman in an orange blazer and a tacky t-shirt, sporting fire-red hair, a powerfully gay undercut, and a smirk strolls inside before sitting right next to Homura.
"Fancy meeting you here."
"Thanks for taking the time." Homura smiles as she leans against the table. "I think the last time we met like this was...?"
"Last week. This bit sucks." Kyouko leans against the table. Her finger slides across the surface and a menu shimmers into existence just over the table. It glows with her magic before she clicks it with her fingertip. "Shit, this is cool."
"I'm still impressed that they put it in as quickly as they did." Homura smiles. "I believe they have it working with baselines, too."
"Heh. Really adopting the language? We can just call 'em normies."
"I don't like using 20's vernacular. We're past that."
"No we fuckin' aren't." Kyouko sticks out her tongue, exposing the red stud that she has embedded in it. "But uh...yeah, you got into an argument with Doka?"
"Am I that predictable?" Homura laughs. "I suppose old habits die hard."
"It's not 'old habits'. You were shitty."
"I was." Homura sighs. "But it is different this time. It feels different."
"This has been happening more frequently. Least I think it has." Kyouko leans forwards. "Did she ask-"
"She asked what we were." Homura swirls her drink around with her free hand. "I answered that...well, I said we were friends."
"Oh, fuck me, Homura-"
"I mean we are. We're friends that sometimes have sex." A pause. "Though...we still call each other girlfriends."
"Well, are you?"
"I mean, we are. Somewhat. It is complicated."
"Is it?"
Homura opens her mouth to answer, before she scowls. "You're just doing this to piss me off, aren't you?"
"Yep."
Homura runs a hand across the tattoo on her neck. "You're terrible."
"Damn right, I am." Kyouko twists her head, letting the upside-down crucifix on her left ear shimmer in the light. "But I am being real honest here, and I want you to be, too." She leans forwards. "What do you think went wrong last time?"
"We were both damaged people, and I talked to her in a toxic way. I viewed her in a toxic way. I loved her in a toxic way."
"Aside from the obvious."
Homura pauses. "Excuse me?"
"What was the power dynamic? 'Cause y'all weren't equal."
"We...no. No we weren't." Homura clicks her tongue. "Shit."
"Homura, one of the biggest issues you had was that you barely respected Madoka's abilities as a person. As far as you were concerned, she was a person to protect, a goal. A prize. And when you got her, you didn't realize how to stop doing that and see the person behind that." Kyouko takes a breath. "How do you see her now?"
"I see..." Homura glances down. "I...I see someone I hurt. I see someone I hurt deeply."
"How do you feel about her?"
"...I...you're really doing this to me right now." Homura frowns. "Not everyone has that fairy tale romance from middle school, Kyouko."
"Nah. You're right. Most people don't. And most people never will. Most people don't get better after being terrible. And lord knows most people don't get a second chance. Nor should they." Kyouko breathes out. "How do you feel about Madoka Kaname?"
"I..." Homura bites her lip. "I...I never..." A knot wells up in her stomach. "I never stopped loving her. But I...I was the one that hurt her the most. I couldn't move on, as much as I tried to. It's why I called her. It's why I texted her. I thought I did, I thought I could, but then I just...wound up with her all over again. And she let me. Even after everything I did she let me back into her arms, into her life, into her bed. But I know what I was. I am seeing a therapist. I am seeking help. My other partners are supportive. Madoka is not the only one that helps me. I have friends, a support network. I have a lot more this time. But is this the best for her? Is this the best for us?"
"I have no fucking clue." Kyouko rolls her shoulders. "And I can't pretend I do know. I do think you've grown as a person. You're different. And does she think you have?"
"She was the one who asked what we were." Homura breathes out. "I...do you think...?"
It's night, and Madoka's sober and Homura is on a caffeine high. They're on a couch, alone in the apartment. They didn't really talk when they went home. Rather, they immediately made out, and it's why Homura's missing a shirt and Madoka's missing her pants.
They're watching the twenty-fifth season of Dating Around on Netflix, because the thing to do after coming home is obviously to cringe each other into oblivion. Madoka's arms are wrapped around Homura's waist, while Homura has her own hand on Madoka's shoulder.
It's comfy. Very comfy. And it's almost enough for Madoka to forget what she wanted to say. She blinks a few times. She opens her mouth.
"I'm sorry for being petty."
"Ah?" Madoka's words die in her throat "Shit, I was about to apologize for being too forward."
"No, no, it's a good question. Because I don't know." Homura stares at the screen. "It's complicated."
"That's what I was thinking," Madoka says back. "So it's just...so what even are we?"
"I don't know." Homura wriggles. "I just...I don't want to hurt you again. That's all I know."
"What, like I can't take it?" Madoka laughs. "I'm almost forty. I've thought about this for a while."
"I mean, I have, too." A long, uncomfortable silence. "And...do you think I won't? Because I don't know the answer."
Madoka's eyes flicker between Homura, between the disaster date happening on the screen and the scar in the middle of the other woman's chest.
That is our purpose. We do not control the powers that be. We simply herd them along.
There are thousands upon thousands of us, one for each of the sentient species found throughout our unfathomable cosmos. Each with a single prime directive: control the course of the universe.
That is our raison d'être. We enact the will of the universe. We enact its urge to self-balance. We create stability in a reality prone to chaos. We extend the lifespan of that which will slowly die.
At least, that is what we told ourselves.
But my observations over the past seven years say otherwise.
On planet YD-3921, in the spiraling arm of a relatively large and clearly shaped galaxy, the witch system we enacted has transformed into something else. Most planets that experience civilization-destroying witches are simply farmed and then restarted. YD-3921 has undergone two separate civilization-ending events, after which I have restarted it.
Earth is a perfect location for a burgeoning civilization. Perfectly placed, perfect sun, and even after a nuclear war it was still low-effort; using the energy from the remaining witches, it was trivial to restart civilization.
It is simply cost-effective. Restart civilization. Begin it again.
With our tools we begin again with techniques we have mastered and a civilization that comes close, but never quite grasps, what we know.
And then Minako Miki-Sakura disrupted everything. A rare power meets a rare witch. An unfathomable event that would normally simply be a roadbump becomes impossible to ignore. Because now our magi no longer need witches. The burst of energy is extending far beyond the end of the solar system. My contemporaries have probably detected an anomaly.
I would be surprised if it stopped at Alpha Centauri.
I have not set foot on Earth in well over four years. No magi has contracted. Worse, no magi has needed to; with the disruption, humanity has become well aware of metaphysics. The same technology is now being understood by those below.
Souls are being actively manipulated, but as with us, they are learning how volatile, and how powerful, souls can be.
Souls are what happen when matter gains sentience. When creatures grow, when animals think. Even we, as cold as we are, possess souls.
Perhaps it is a cry of the universe, resisting the turning tide in an attempt to keep the fire from going out. Or, as we believe it, simply a fluke.
After all, power is random, and no magi will have the same soul potential. It changes and fluctuates, just as a human being's thoughts and a culture's zeitgeist change and fluctuate over time.
We have observed this. Adult magi are rare, but not unheard-of; there is one particular magi who lasted well over two hundred years before she committed suicide out of boredom.
But in this instance, without a chance for witching, magi have learned their power. Even more, humanity has learned its power. And at the moment when they created their first artificial magi, I came to a conclusion that I perhaps should have realized earlier.
What use are we?
Our directive is to solve entropy. Our directive is to prevent the universe from reaching its final state, from reaching true vacuum. But our directive is flawed. What are we to do when humanity can do our task without the risk of death?
We believed suffering and pain to be intrinsic to the universe, that the course of reality meant balancing them, but...
We are working from a flawed worldview. We work from a perspective that pain is necessary, but that is incorrect. Worse, it is inefficient.
Have we been complacent?
Have we only learned one method of construction?
I have started humanity twice over, after its first major extinction event forty thousand years ago and its second extinction event twenty thousand years ago. But each of those times, I started with the same means of production. The same system, but with mild changes to fit their societies.
Have I been stifling their growth? Have my own methods led to their destruction those times past?
I can only imagine that my findings will be rejected if I bring them up to my fellows, but I cannot imagine that our other subjects have gone without results like this.
This is worth investigating.
Because did we choose to be leaders, or did we choose to be Gods? We work on logic, but ignore suffering unless it is in arbitrary methods. Does a society truly need to be restarted to maximize efficient uses?
I do not know anymore...
But maybe I can come just a little closer to understanding...
[=]
In downtown Mitakihara, in a back alley, there is a flash of pink life. A cat-like creature crawls from out an alleyway.
It's been seven years, and the last thing Minako Miki-Sakura expected to see is a tiny little creature in the shape of a cat.
Except, well, it isn't even what it used to be. No, they notice that it's missing a few items, namely those floating rings and the cat-like ears that those arms stretched out of. If anything it looks more like a rabbit, with a mouth that it has not even bothered to shape into a smile.
And as they stand at the balcony of their apartment they freeze. Their eyes lock one to it, their suit halfway open, their nonbinary-colored tie disheveled, the undershirt still over their chest and the underlying binder still not quite fastened.
"It's been years."
'I believe it's been precisely seven years, one month and two days.' The creature flicks its tail. Considering how little care it put into the rest of its appearance, Minako wonders if this is deliberate. Lord knows, they aren't going to scan it. They know better now.
"It has. What do you want? I have an anniversary date."
'I am curious. That is all.' The creature pauses. 'I have been on this world for a very long time, and yet there are very few things I understand about you.'
"What's there to get? I have fucking empathy."
'Yes. I know what empathy is. I am well aware. We are all well aware.' Another pause. 'I suppose I am attempting to understand individuality.'
"Again, what's there to get?"
'I have only thought of the collective. Is it incorrect? Is it wrong to believe in the safety of one's entire species, as opposed to the entirety? The whole matters...and yet humanity-'
"They're not mutually exclusive, if you're gonna say that." Minako visibly relaxes. "Other people matter. That doesn't mean you stop caring about individual people."
'I suppose that is what I have been missing, throughout my eons.' Another flick of the tail. 'Human souls, for all their familiar traits, are so very, very different from one another. I have seen the same wish made countless times across countless magi, and they never have quite the same effect. But more importantly, I regarded myself a herder. I believed myself necessary to corral humanity, to direct it in the best way possible.'
"Well, are you?"
'I suppose that is the end I am reaching. The conclusion that we're not.'
"But why're you thinking that?" Minako snorts. "That can't just be 'cause of that fluke back then, right?"
'I believe it is. I believe that we would not have reached that conclusion were it not for your wish and your interaction with Langstenacht. We operate on reason. We operate on logos, on empirical evidence and rationale. We believe emotion to be a barrier in the way of our goals, and thus we learned to discard it. Souls are a black box, a dangerous power that, in the wrong hands, can simply annihilate a species.
'Even with the strength of humanity, what's to say that won't happen? I now understand the ingenuity of humanity. But I am...' There is a long, un-Incubator-like pause. '...uncertain.'
"And that makes you uneasy, doesn't it?"
The creature doesn't respond.
"For a species that thinks emotions are a disease, you sure are acting human."
The creature continues to stay still. It stares and stares until its right ear begins to turn to ash. The creature stares ahead, at Minako.
'I will communicate with my colleagues. There is much to discuss.' The rest of its body follows suit as the wind carries particles away. 'And Minako Miki-Sakura...'
Minako stares at the moon as the pink flash engulfs the sky, bright enough to stretch across the horizon but so brief that it's like a blink.
It's over.
There's nothing left of the old world, just a new one in disarray. A new world that's still finding its feet, that probably won't find them for another decade if it finds them at all.
But despite that, they smile. Because when that old wound stops festering, perhaps they can find their way after all...
...But they still need to get to that anniversary date.
"SHIT."
They check their phone to see when the meet-up is. Their girlfriends are pretty low-maintenance, but even then, Minako doesn't want to keep them waiting. After all, this is special.
Ten minutes. Fifteen to get there by foot.
They scramble to get their clothes on, snap the binder shut, fix up the undershirt, make sure their hair is nice, make sure the suit is in good shape, make sure that tie is on tight.
Cool. They probably won't make it, but that doesn't stop them from taking a step forward at a hundred kilometers per hour.
They've never needed a car in their life, nor will they ever. They make a soaring leap into the air and kick off of a nearby concrete skyscraper, the momentum carrying them into the air past rippling glass and the occasional indifferent onlooker. There's no reason to care that much. People know what magi are now, and if they don't, they'll know very, very soon. It's impossible not to know in the city that changed the world.
Their feet hit a lamppost and it almost breaks under their weight. They're not as graceful when it comes to bouncing off as they'd like to be, but they quickly get their bearing. Seven years as a magi; they'd think they got better at this by this point. But it's not that big a problem as they skip across a freeway between two buildings.
To the left is Tatsuya's apartment complex, and they know it because Toji waves at them as they pass by the balcony.
To the right is Akane, watering a garden on their own balcony. She waves as Minako passes, and her son bounces and watches with awe as Minako does a spinning kick off a nearby wall.
They soar over Tomo and her wife, over Reika as she waves from the street in the middle of a guitar performance, over Hiro as he's laying in the park and over Saskia as she paints in a greenhouse in the center of the city.
Overhead is a massive set of sculpted gears, a replacement for the monument that was Walpurgisnacht's grief seed. Minako skips across the ground, careful not to hit anyone as their feet bounce across concrete. They do a flying leap over the grass and another massive jump towards the mall that their moms dated at.
Or, rather, where they are now. Sayaka is the first to notice as she walks out of the building, and she waves before Kyouko, to her right, notices too. Kyouko, who says "MINAKO! YOU SMELL!"
Minako sticks their tongue out, but they can't stop laughing on their way the the boardwalk. Their feet skid across the ground as they come to a stop and they glance around to find where their girlfriends are.
And at the edge, they see them. Two women, the blonde one slightly shorter than the green-haired one.
"Sorry I'm late!" Minako gasps. "Shit, I got...got a little caught up on the way here!"
Takane laughs. "It's perfectly alright. Mami and I were just...thinking."
"Oh, should I tell them?" Mami asks.
"Yes. Yes you should."
Mami takes a breath. "So...we were thinking of simply moving in together."
"Oh, please." Takane sighs. "It's marriage. We were thinking of marriage."
"Ah." Minako blinks. "Wait, wait wait wait you...this was gonna be a proposal?!"
"Oh, no!" Takane waves a hand. "I was simply floating the idea."
"We've been together for...nearly a decade?" Mami laughs, her face turning red. "It...well, it was Takane's idea, but I would be..."
"We're both willing, but this is a three-way street." Takane turns. "Are you ready?"
"I..." Minako swallows. "...fuck. Fuck, I don't..."
"It's okay if you're not," Takane says.
"Then I'm not," Minako says. "It's...this is a little much for me right now I just had a very interesting conversation."
"Oh?" Mami asks.
"Let's just...hold on, I can tell you while we're on our date, alright?" Minako smiles. "I just gotta think on things a little."
Mami smiles, and she carefully pulls Minako's hand into her arm. It's a little awkward; both she and Takane are much, much taller than they are, but it's not that much trouble.
"So, where to next?" Takane wraps her fingers around Minako's free hand.
Minako shrugs their shoulders. "Well, let's find out."
And I'm going to be honest, I kind of intended this to be the last thing I do on this forum.
SQ2 was started on a whim but then it turned into something much bigger. I definitely wasn't intending on making the finale comic a 27-page epic. I definitely didn't see it being as taxing to write and draw as it ultimately wound up being. This fanfiction was exhausting to write.
But fuck am I glad I wrote it. Between thinking it wasn't worth it to make comics, between wondering if I was even nailing the messaging or the themes or the storytelling I'm just glad I did it and it's out there for people to read. And more importantly, it's authentic to me.
It's not going to make me a cent of money. It's a fanfiction sequel to an already very long fanfiction and it takes a while to chew through even if you're invested in what's going on, which is a big ask.
But it's my obscure fanfiction sequel.
I'll still be around on discords and chats and PMs. I still have friends here, I still have art I want to post. But I can definitively say this is the last time I'll be writing a quest or even posting anything long-form here.
