"No- well, yes," you say, smiling. You reach out, draping your arm around Homura and giving her another hug. The girl stiffens reflexively at the contact. You hold the hug, squeezing her lightly, and she eventually relaxes into it.
You release the hug, and smile at her. "We'll make it though this, Homura," you say. "We
will. We'll
all make it through."
Homura exhales slowly, not responding, but her eyes are... a faint smile touches her eyes, the worry lines softening for once, just a hair. "Thank you," she says. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and stands. "I need to get back to class."
"Alright. See you later, Homura," you say.
"... See you later," she says. "Don't stay too long, the teachers will sweep through soon."
"Gotcha, thanks," you say. You smile, and deliberately raise the string in your hand to eye level, holding Homura's gaze, and let it g-
-o.
Bright sunshine and pleasant, midday warmth beats down on the empty roof, an empty space where Homura used to be. You smile to yourself, and bounce lightly to your feet. Things yet to do, science yet to be done, and people to talk to. You roll your neck, transforming and pulling enough Grief to you to form your wings.
Your legs coil, and you leap skywards, wings beating to lift you ever upwards.
...
You
really want to get that story out of Homura, some time.
You soar over the city, revelling in the sheer freedom. There are no strings on you, and all that.
Or, well. None that you haven't chosen to take on for yourself. You
choose to be a friend to Mami, and to try and build her up, to accord her the care and respect she deserves. You choose to help Homura, to help Madoka and Sayaka; you
chose to intervene in the war when you could have sat back and done nothing about it.
Of your own choosing, then.
You wing back to that warehouse you were at earlier, dropping to the sun-heated asphalt with a thump and a small cloud of dust. You smile, reaching first into your pockets, then for the brooch clipped to your coat.
Soul Gem, Grief Seed, and... broken Seed. Yourself, Irene, and Hildegarde, spead out on your palm.
Your
self, your Soul Gem. A shining white egg-shaped Gem gleaming under the sunlight, wrapped in elaborately wrought gold filigree. In your Grief senses, it's practically aglow with magic, delicate traceries spinning across the air to merge seamlessly with the crackling storm of your body, magic running like leashed fire parallel to your veins. In the very deepest portion of your Soul Gem is a slowly bubbling effusion of Grief, a presence you shy away from touching.
Dedolere.
You grimace, looking at Irene instead. An obsidian black orb surrounded in silvery traceries, balancing on its point. In your Grief senses... as you'd expect, it's filled with Grief, tremendous quantities of it locked away within that crystalline structure. In the very center of it is
Irene. From the Witch you get a sense of vicious, predatory
hunger, muted and quiet - but
there.
Finally, a perfectly clear crystal surrounded by similarly silver filigree, like Irene, balancing on a slender stem. Hildegarde. You smile ruefully at the Seed, the one that started this whole thing. It's a crystal clear gem -small 'g' gem, there- with a single, abyssal spot in the center, one that resonates in your senses.
Hildegarde, quiescent and still.
Hmm.
You look contemplatively at the trio.
Maybe you're getting somewhere with Hildegarde. Certainly it's
different from Irene. You've no real idea, though. Perhaps time will tell? And perhaps you
do need to figure out how magic works properly first. You shrug to yourself, and put them away for now, the Grief Seeds going into different pockets, and your Soul Gem back to its place on your chest.
For now... you summon a warhammer, a sudden surge of magic coalescing into a meter long piece of steel. The warhammer drops into your hand, your grip closing around its handle and you spin it lightly, looping through several rapid strikes at an invisible opponent. You've... never really come out ahead in a melee clash, but still. You
know how to use this.
You concentrate for a moment, focusing your will upon a spot ten meters up. It takes
effort, to your surprise, but you manage to form a warhammer ten meters up, and sidestep sharply as it falls to the ground with a clang. You stoop and heft the new hammer, spinning it lightly in your hand. It feels exactly the same as your other one.
Hmm.
So what, then, of Grief? You dismiss one of the hammers from your hand, and raise it towards the enormous mass of Grief you've been dragging around the whole day. From the brooding mass of spheres, you draw a single sphere out, and forge it into a replica of your warhammer that you tug towards you. The grip smacks into your hand, the hammer pinging off your senses as
Witch.
Immediately, you're struck by the
weight.
Your warhammer feels light as a feather in your hand, whereas this one... well, it feels like a meter long rod of steel with a heavy, armour piercing head on top. You place your warhammer on the ground, and take an experimental, two-handed swing with the one made of Grief.
The swing nearly overbalances you. The unexpected
momentum of the thing, so
different from your hammer, nearly has you tripping over your own feet.
... hunh.
You kneel and grab the magic-formed warhammer, holding both up in front of you. They
look exactly the same, but the one on your left, the one forged of Grief, screams
Witch in your senses. It also feels considerably heavier. And yet you get the distinct feeling that if you
weighed them, they'd weigh exactly the same.
Magic is
such bullshit.
But the one made of Grief... an effort of will gives it a viciously sharp pickax head, and then it flows into a rounded mace head.
Hmm.
On the other hand, you should be able to make it lighter, too. You drop your normal warhammer again, and focus on the Grief one. An effort of will has it feeling equally as light as your usual warhammer, and you take a careful swing with it. This time, it handles properly.
Contemplatively, you heft it back over your shoulder, and then slam it through a heavy, overhand blow at the ground in front of you, punching a hammerhead shaped divot in the asphalt with an enormous cracking noise.
You take a step to the side, picking up your magic warhammer. You repeat the blow, trying to put an equal amount of force behind it - and promptly smash a
crater out of the asphalt. A
crater, as opposed to a simple divot.
Hmm.
You plop down onto the asphalt, looking at the two different holes gouged out of the parking lot. Your testing methodology isn't terribly scientific, but you have a feeling that the hammer,
your hammer, wouldn't work the same in someone else's hands. You make a grumbling noise, snorting through your nose in annoyance.
Eh.
Magic is
such bullshit. Of the bisoniest, deuce-iest level.
"
Sabrina?" Mami's voice, traces of anxiety curling at the edge of her tone.
"
Hey, Mami!" you say brightly, putting aside your annoyance for now. "
How are you?"
"
Oh, I'm in home economics now," Mami says. "
We're cooking today! I'll try and cook enough to bring home tonight."
"
Looking forward to it," you smile, pushing yourself to your feet. You dismiss both of your hammers, and wander off into the cool shade of the warehouse. "
Oh, uh. I said I'd check with you, would you be OK if I invited Homura over tonight to hang out? Or maybe a little earlier, we can all go out?"
"
Ah, of course. You don't need to ask, Sabrina," Mami says, sounding surprised. Surprised, and pleased. "
I'll be sure to cook something good!"
"
Excellent," you smile. "
And your cooking's amazing, Mami, so no need to stress yourself."
"
Thank you, Sabrina," Mami replies. "
I'll do my best!"
"
Really, you don't need to stress about it," you say, still smiling at her delighted tone.
"
OK, Sabrina," Mami says. "
I'll see you later?"
"
Of course," you say easily, nodding firmly even if she can't see you. "
See you later, Mami!"
You smile to yourself as the connection closes. Well, that's as good a cue as any to start calling other people, too. You find a support column that's less rusty than the others and lean against it.
"
Masami, Hiroko?" you call out telepathically.
There's no response for a long moment, and you're just about to try again when Masami does. "
Sabrina? The hell did you do to Miss Hamasaki?"
"
Masami!" Hiroko joins in the conversation with a rebuke.
"
Uh? Wait, she contacted you?" you ask, raising your eyebrows.
"
Yeah, tried to call in our help, against you," Masami says. "
We turned her down."
"
Uh, well," you say. "
I actually kinda went over and, uh, forced them to stop fighting."
The silence echoes out for a moment.
"
Do you make a habit of doing that?" Masami manages, finally. "
Don't answer that."
After another moment passes, you say, "
So, uh, yeah. Things have more or less settled down. I thought I should let you know."
"
Right," Masami says.
"
Yeaaah," you say. "
So, uh. How are the two of you? Hunting and stuff going alright?"
"
Yes, thank you," Hiroko answers after another thouughtful pause.
"
Good to hear," you say. "
So, uh, another thing. I can refresh Grief Seeds, right? So if you half fill them and hang on to them, you can ping me and I can drop by to refresh them."
"
That... sounds useful," Masami says, tone noncommittal.
"
Yeah," you say. You... You don't want to
impose your will on them, so you quickly add, "
It's just a suggestion, I guess, that I hope you'd find useful?"
"
... yeah, it actually does sound pretty good," Masami says. "
We'll... probably get back to you on that?"
"
Mmm," you say. "
Let me know whenever, OK?"
"
Yeah," Masami says. "
Bye, Sabrina."
"
Bye, Sabrina!" Hiroko agrees. "
And thanks for letting us know!"
You nod to yourself as the connection closes. Hopefully they'll follow up. Next up, then, Ishinomaki. "
Miss Inoue?" you ask, telepathically reaching out for Yuuki.
It takes a moment for the leader of the Ishinomaki girls responds. "
Miss Sabrina? What's happening?" she asks, surprise evident in her tone.
"
Uh, well," you say. "
The war's kinda over, now."
"
... Huh," Yuuki responds in a disbelieving tone. "
I don't mean to, like, imply anything, but Hamasaki... isn't that reasonable over us, you know."
"
Yeah," you say, rubbing at your head. "
Yeah, I know. But she also kinda had a breakdown and went catatonic."
"
A breakdown? Hamasaki?" Yuuki asks. "
You're... sure?"
"
Yeah, I know," you say, rolling your eyes. "
But I saw it happen, soooooo."
"
... huh," Yuuki repeats. "
Well... that's a thing?"
"
Yep. They'll be off your backs, now," you say. "
Mind clarifying something for me?"
"
Sure?" Yuuki agrees.
"
Right, so... what happened at the beginning? The... 'negotiations', I mean," you say.
"
I've told you all I know?" Yuuki says with an audible shrug. "
She called for a meeting, and we agreed. We found her here early, with two of her friends snooping around, so we attacked."
"
Hmmm, I see," you say. "
OK, then. I guess that's it for me. Anything on your end?"
"
Nope," Yuuki says. "
Well, like. You're sure? Akiko's done?"
"
Yeah, quite sure," you say.
"
Then, uh. That's it, I guess," Yuuki says.
"
Alright. Bye, then," you say.
"
Bye," the girl replies, the connection closing.
You nod. Another bit of business sorted, then. And now for something rather closer to home.
"
Oriko?"
"
Yes, Sabrina?" the seer responds, almost immediately.
"
I'm coming over, is there anything you need me to get you?" you ask, already walking out into the sunshine, wings billowing out behind you.
"
No," Oriko says.
"
Right. On my way, then." You crouch and leap with a grunt of effort, wings lofting you up into the sky, thermals radiating from the asphalt below aiding in your ascent. You cut across the city, watching the silvery flashes and patches of green rolling by beneath you, wings beating out a steady beat behind you.
You arrive at Oriko's mansion quickly, soaring in for a landing in the garden behind her house as you usually do. Oriko's waiting for you outside, her silvery grey side-ponytail waving in the downdraft from your landing. Kirika's a step behind her and waving enthusiastically at you, bright grin on her face.
"Sabrina," Oriko nods at you.
"Hiii
iiii," Kirika chirps happily.
"Hello, Oriko, Kirika," you respond, your wings dissolving into Grief. You tuck away the enormous bulk of Grief, leaving it scattered about the garden as large, basketball sized spheres resting amongst the greenery.
"Would you like to come in?" Oriko asks politely, gesturing towards the house with her single arm, the opposing sleeve of her dress hanging empty.
"Yes, I would," you say. "I have... a few things to say."
Oriko nods, and turns to enter the house. Kirika bounces after her, and you follow, more sedately. You're led into the living room, and you settle yourself on the sofa, while Oriko disappears into the kitchen, Kirika clattering after her.
A moment later, Kirika returns to the living room, presumably banished from the kitchen. She plops down onto a sofa, looking utterly disconsolate. You quirk an eyebrow at the black haired girl.
"She said I'm not allowed to touch the tea," Kirika mutters.
"Oh," you say. "Uh. You didn't try to microwave it, did you?"
Kirika looks aghast. "No! You don't microwave tea!"
A moment later, Oriko appears, carefully bearing a teapot in her hand. She wordlessly places it on the table, before returning to the kitchen for cups. After doling out the tea, she settles onto the sofa. Kirika's woebegone look vanishes, and she immediately curls into Oriko's side, sliding an arm around the seer's waist.
You sip the tea, enjoying the savoury aroma.
"What did you want to speak to us about?" Oriko asks.
"Well, the first thing is," you start. "Thank you. Thank you, Oriko, and thank you, Kirika, for your help yesterday. Seriously, the both of you were huge helps yesterday."
Oriko nods graciously, accepting that, while Kirika grins brilliantly, her fang poking out. She flashes you a thumbs up, and a cheerful, "Thanks!"
"Next..." you take a deep breath, setting aside your teacup. You meet Oriko's eyes squarely, clear blue against sea green, trying to impress upon her your sincerity. "I'm sorry. For what it's worth, Oriko, I apologize, from the bottom of my heart, for what I threatened to do to Kirika."
Oriko holds your gaze, complex emotions flickering through her eyes as she processes that. Finally, she looks away, letting out a shuddering breath. "I... understand," she whispers.
"Oriko?" Kirika asks, lifting her head to look up at the girl.
The seer smiles sadly, reaching across to touch Kirika's cheek. "Nothing... really important, Kirika."
"Oh," Kirika says, nestling back into Oriko's side. "OK."
Oriko looks back at you, pain in her eyes. "For what it's worth, I apologize, too."
[] Write-in
=====
Fun fact. Home economics is a mandatory subject in Japanese middle schools.
) and missing a perfectly good chance to try and mend bridges.
