You gasp as you impact the ground hard enough to crack concrete. Were you human, you would be...
SayaHomu
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Death of Homura, Birth of Sayaka
Hyp3rB14d3
Gotta catch 'em all!
You gasp as you impact the ground hard enough to crack concrete. Were you human, you would be dead. As is, you just hurt a lot. You grit your teeth in an attempt to suppress the pain through sheer force of will. It doesn't work, but you try to rise anyway.
Key word being "try."
Agony bursts from your right leg, and you cry out in pain. Collapsing back to the ground, you look back at the offending limb. Or rather, where you expected the offending limb to be. To your dismay, you discover your right leg now ends in a stump halfway down your shin. When the hell did she take your foot?
You grimace and look up at your opponent: Walpurgisnact. How many times have you fought her before? By now you've long since lost count. And every single fight ends the same way. Just like this one is ending now.
You reach for your shield.
And stop.
Your soul gem, visible on the back of your hand, is dark. Very dark. If you loop now, you'll witch out the moment you arrive in the past.
You are Homura Akemi. And you are out of Grief Seeds.
A glance to the side reveals Madoka talking to Kyubey. Any moment now, she's going to make a wish, and another timeline will end in failure. But unlike the previous timelines, this will be the last.
Is this how it ends? With you on your knees before your enemy? Forced to watch as your best friend ruins her life for a chance to stop an unstoppable juggernaut of a witch?
A shadow falls over you. You look up to find an incoming building. You reflexively attempt to leap away, but gasp in pain as your stump once again collides with the ground. And that second of hesitation is all it takes. You reach for your shield just as the building crashes into you, and your world dissolves into pain.
Just as you lose consciousness, you notice a familiar burst of pink. Madoka made a wish...
0o0o0
You awaken in darkness. Some sort of fluid covers you, seems to be filling your lungs, and everything hurts. Were you not a Puella Magi, you would probably be dead right now.
That you aren't actually comes as a surprise. You were certain being crushed by a building would be enough to destroy your soul gem. Unfortunately, you have no such luck. Instead, you appear to have been trapped in a lightless hell, incapable of movement, hurting everywhere, and with nothing to distract you from your ruminations.
You failed. You couldn't stop Walpurgisnact. Madoka made her wish. And you won't even be able to try to put her down. Instead, you've got perhaps hours before your soul gem shatters and you become a witch. If you're lucky, someone will put you down relatively quickly afterwards.
You feel so weak.
You feel your prison shift around you, forcibly moving you. Then, to your surpise, you feel your legs slide free. You feel a brief burst of hope. Somehow, you're being let free of your prison.
You struggle to push yourself with your arms, but you can't put any strength behind them. Is it because of how close you are to witching?
Something grabs you and pulls. You resist the urge to panic. You don't know for certain that it's an enemy. And even if it is, out is out. You struggle to relax, and whatever grabbed you continues pulling. You slide further out. You feel it guiding you outward in a manner that is probably intended to be gentle but really isn't.
After a moment, your head pulls free, and you suddenly find yourself in a white room surrounded by giants. You'd gasp in surprise, but your lungs are still full of liquid.
"It's a girl," one of them reports as you attempt to empty your lungs. One of the giants decides to aid you in this endevor by striking you hard across the rear end. It hurts far more than it should, and you cry out in pain, puking up some fluid in the process.
After a moment, you're handed to one of the giants, who begins cradling you. "She's so beautiful," the giant says.
It occurs to you that the giant looks familiar somehow.
"My darling little Sayaka."
And like a bucket of water to the face, you realize what you're seeing. This is a hospital. The woman is Sayaki Miki's mother. And apparently, you are now a newborn Sayaka Miki.
...What the hell did Madoka wish for?
[] Struggle to retain the Homu.
-[] But try to blend in
-[] BE THE HOMU
[] Embrace the Saya.
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Character Profile
Hyp3rB14d3
Gotta catch 'em all!
Name: S͓̼̳̱̲̻͕ͮͪͩ̔̏͂H͔̩̥ͮͫ̐a̘̫͎ͤ͌̍̄͑ŏ̪̮̮̤͚̞̦̙̠̊̔̽ͤͥͭ̀y̱͗m̦̺͙̞͕̟̥̫̋̇̒ͨ͛͢a̟͕͇͆́̿ų͙̪̺͍̖͍͈ͤ͌͒̂ͯ̑͊͜k͖̙̝͍r̵̬̝̝͎̥̳̤̀̄̋̇͞a̫͆ȃ̬̰͍͑͗̏ͪͫͫ͐͂ ̦̜͚͚ͩA̴̺͖̹ͦ̂̂͛̾̽͡M̻͕̭̺̃ͮ͒̏̎̓̄k̼̟̣̺̱̔ͧ̊̍́͂ͮ̚ḭ͓̫̻̪̻ͫę̴̛̮̣̞͍͓̳̈́ͨ̉̎̓͛k̤͐̿ͩ̚m̭͓̭͖̘̗̳̣͔ͫͬ̕i̤̥̩ͤ̓ͣͫ̆̽iͭ͗̓̅̈́̈̃͌҉̧͏͙̱̣̥͚̱͉̖͔
Age: 2
Abilities:
Achievements:
Poo Poo in the Potty: Became toilet trained
Weapons:
None
Magical Abilities:
None
Age: 2
Abilities:
- Drawing (Intermediate)
- Crawling (Advanced)
- Walking (Advanced)
- Running (Basic)
- Brooding (Advanced)
- Pillow Fighting (Intermediate)
- Talking (Basic)
Achievements:
Poo Poo in the Potty: Became toilet trained
Weapons:
None
Magical Abilities:
None
Last edited:
Baby Sayaka Learns to Draw
Hyp3rB14d3
Gotta catch 'em all!
You decide to do your best to blend in. Unlike that endless month, you've now got fourteen years until Walpurgisnact attacks. During which time people will remember your actions. You can't afford to distinguish yourself too much if you want to be able to act without suspicion.
Not that you actually have much choice in the matter.
Being a newborn is a humiliating experience. You have been stripped of nearly everything. Your magic, your weapons, your home, your past, your ability to walk and talk, your very identity. You can't even control your bladder anymore. It's frustrating, being so helpless, especially considering your oath to never depend on anyone anymore. Now you have no choice but to depend on Sayaka's parents for everything. Mobility, food, entertainment, cleanliness, and more.
Worse, it feels like you're slowly losing yourself. Every day, those years spent looping repeating that hellish month over and over grow just a little bit harder to remember. A little closer to losing yourself and becoming Sayaka. The thought scares you. To have gone through all that hell only to become that girl who served as nothing but a detriment to your efforts. To add to your own failure. You know that you must take some sort of action to ensure you remember what happened. To know what you have to prepare for.
Still, it's not all bad. You do have fourteen whole years to prepare. If you can manage to hold onto yourself until then, you just might find a way to defeat Walpurgisnact. With that in mind, you once more attempt the struggle that is crawling. Not walking. Walking before you crawl is unnatural, and you vaguely remember it being a sign of some sort of mental disorder. No, you must blend in. Which means crawling first. Even if you're pretty sure going straight to walking would actually be the quicker path to full mobility.
Likewise, you've been very careful to keep your babbling away from anything resembling words whenever anyone else is present. When alone, you try to talk, but it is a difficult task to accomplish without teeth. It doesn't help that you're tongue doesn't seem to move the way you want it to. Still, you press on.
You have accomplished the first step on a long path to saving Madoka: gaining access to paper and a crayon. It's not much, but it's better than nothing. With paper and a crayon, you can at least record your memories so that you can keep them in mind. You're not stupid enough to write them out normally, of course. Instead, you'll use a code that you developed to keep your own notes from being read back when you were doing the "time traveler's diary" thing. Between the code and your own bad coordination, the notes should look like nothing more than numerous scribbles.
You lower your crayon to the paper. And stop.
You can't remember your code.
You remember developing it. You vaguely recall what the letters are supposed to look like. But you don't remember what represents what.
Hesitantly, you decide to use regular writing instead. You'll need to hide it, but you...
You can't remember how to write. At all.
You look at the paper. You look at the crayon. Tears well up in your eyes, and years of training at controlling your emotions spontaneously fails you. You cry.
It takes a frustratingly long time to get the Miki family to let you near crayons and paper again, but eventually they do. You immediately set into motion your Plan B. You make your best attempt at a rendition of Walpurgisnact. It is terrible. You also make your best renditions of Kyubey. Failing to remember what the incubator looks like could ruin you. Likewise, you draw Mami, Kyouko, and Sayaka. Your last drawing is of Madoka. You don't need to draw her to remember her. But you do it anyways. Dozens of minutes of care go into the crayon rendition of your best friend. And of course, yo-Sayaka's parents "ooh" and "ah" over the whole thing, and talk about what an artist their daughter is turning out to be.
They're so proud of your art that they put your drawings right up on their refrigerator. You don't complain. It's much easier to remember what happened when you can just go back and look whenever you want to. Still, you wish they hadn't put Walpurgisnact on upside down.
Sayaka's parent's are monsters. They have removed your drawings from the refrigerator. Without them, your memories could potentially fade into the background as your life goes on. You must do something.
[] Throw a temper tantrum to get them to put your pictures back on the fridge.
[] Make new drawings.
-[] Get Sayaka's parents to put them up on the fridge.
-[] Hide them in your crib. You must keep them safe at all costs.
[] Try to develop a new coded writing system. A picture might be worth a thousand words, but you want to keep the details.
[] Just try to remember everything.
[] Focus on something else. (What?)
Not that you actually have much choice in the matter.
Being a newborn is a humiliating experience. You have been stripped of nearly everything. Your magic, your weapons, your home, your past, your ability to walk and talk, your very identity. You can't even control your bladder anymore. It's frustrating, being so helpless, especially considering your oath to never depend on anyone anymore. Now you have no choice but to depend on Sayaka's parents for everything. Mobility, food, entertainment, cleanliness, and more.
Worse, it feels like you're slowly losing yourself. Every day, those years spent looping repeating that hellish month over and over grow just a little bit harder to remember. A little closer to losing yourself and becoming Sayaka. The thought scares you. To have gone through all that hell only to become that girl who served as nothing but a detriment to your efforts. To add to your own failure. You know that you must take some sort of action to ensure you remember what happened. To know what you have to prepare for.
Still, it's not all bad. You do have fourteen whole years to prepare. If you can manage to hold onto yourself until then, you just might find a way to defeat Walpurgisnact. With that in mind, you once more attempt the struggle that is crawling. Not walking. Walking before you crawl is unnatural, and you vaguely remember it being a sign of some sort of mental disorder. No, you must blend in. Which means crawling first. Even if you're pretty sure going straight to walking would actually be the quicker path to full mobility.
Likewise, you've been very careful to keep your babbling away from anything resembling words whenever anyone else is present. When alone, you try to talk, but it is a difficult task to accomplish without teeth. It doesn't help that you're tongue doesn't seem to move the way you want it to. Still, you press on.
0o0o0
You have accomplished the first step on a long path to saving Madoka: gaining access to paper and a crayon. It's not much, but it's better than nothing. With paper and a crayon, you can at least record your memories so that you can keep them in mind. You're not stupid enough to write them out normally, of course. Instead, you'll use a code that you developed to keep your own notes from being read back when you were doing the "time traveler's diary" thing. Between the code and your own bad coordination, the notes should look like nothing more than numerous scribbles.
You lower your crayon to the paper. And stop.
You can't remember your code.
You remember developing it. You vaguely recall what the letters are supposed to look like. But you don't remember what represents what.
Hesitantly, you decide to use regular writing instead. You'll need to hide it, but you...
You can't remember how to write. At all.
You look at the paper. You look at the crayon. Tears well up in your eyes, and years of training at controlling your emotions spontaneously fails you. You cry.
0o0o0
It takes a frustratingly long time to get the Miki family to let you near crayons and paper again, but eventually they do. You immediately set into motion your Plan B. You make your best attempt at a rendition of Walpurgisnact. It is terrible. You also make your best renditions of Kyubey. Failing to remember what the incubator looks like could ruin you. Likewise, you draw Mami, Kyouko, and Sayaka. Your last drawing is of Madoka. You don't need to draw her to remember her. But you do it anyways. Dozens of minutes of care go into the crayon rendition of your best friend. And of course, yo-Sayaka's parents "ooh" and "ah" over the whole thing, and talk about what an artist their daughter is turning out to be.
They're so proud of your art that they put your drawings right up on their refrigerator. You don't complain. It's much easier to remember what happened when you can just go back and look whenever you want to. Still, you wish they hadn't put Walpurgisnact on upside down.
0o0o0
Sayaka's parent's are monsters. They have removed your drawings from the refrigerator. Without them, your memories could potentially fade into the background as your life goes on. You must do something.
[] Throw a temper tantrum to get them to put your pictures back on the fridge.
[] Make new drawings.
-[] Get Sayaka's parents to put them up on the fridge.
-[] Hide them in your crib. You must keep them safe at all costs.
[] Try to develop a new coded writing system. A picture might be worth a thousand words, but you want to keep the details.
[] Just try to remember everything.
[] Focus on something else. (What?)
Baby Sayaka Fails Her Stealth Check
Hyp3rB14d3
Gotta catch 'em all!
Unfortunately, when it comes down to it, you are the baby and Sayaka's parents are the adults. Which means what they say goes. Also, you can't actually talk to express your displeasure at the removal of your precious mnemonic aids from the refrigerator. Which means you can't even ask them put the drawings back.
There's nothing to be done but to make more.
By now, you have completely mastered crawling. And Sayaka's parents never bothered to hide where they keep the crayons. The paper is in the printer. You can do this.
You bide your time until a distraction occurs (the phone rings), then take off. Over the course of fifteen minutes, you manage to climb your way to the printer, steal some paper, climb up to where the crayons are kept, and put together a new set of drawings (which are just as terrible as the first). Unfortunately, just as you're climbing up a chair you slid in front of the refrigerator to put your precious memory aids onto the fridge, Sayaka's mother catches you. She promptly pulls you off of the chair and chews you out for doing something so dangerous. She then takes your drawings and tells you that, as punishment, they aren't going onto the fridge.
Curses.
Sayaka's parents don't seem to have realized you know where they keep the crayons. That, or they have far more faith in their ability to keep track of you than is deserved. Your next chance comes that very same day. Sayaka's mother gets a little too involved in a conversation with her husband (and you still haven't learned their names, thanks to their tendency to call each other "mommy" and "daddy"), and off you go.
This time you only manage to get through halfway through the first of your drawings before the parents catch onto your disappearance. Once they find you drawing, however, they go back to making incoherent noises to encourage your artwork. Admittedly, you feel prouder than you should over your art, likely due in part to such encouragement. That a baby is producing crayon drawings that are even vaguely recognizable as anything is impressive. At the same time, that someone your actual age is eking out such bleary imagery despite her best efforts is absolutely appalling. Still, they should work for their intended purpose.
Once more, up on the fridge your art goes.
It stays there for all of a week. You must come up with a more permanent solution.
Over the course of your latest artistic venture, you manage to hide the pink, blue, yellow, red, gray, and purple crayons. Your parents express some concern over the missing crayons, but eventually give up their search. All according to plan.
That night, you sneak out of your crib. It's risky, since your parents don't know you can do that yet, and you're not certain you'll be able to get back in afterwards. If they catch you outside your crib, they're likely to take measures to keep you in it in the future, which will limit your mobility. But it's a risk you need to take. Remembering everything is too important.
You manage to get out of your parents' room without alerting either of them. Grabbing a piece of paper from the printer, you retrieve the crayons you hid and get to work. There is something that you haven't been able to draw, yet. A memory that haunts your mind. Something you can never, ever let yourself forget. If nothing else, you have to remember it. No matter how much it hurts.
You painstakingly recreate the scene from your memories, drawing as carefully as possible. You need this drawing in particular to be accurate. Madoka, lying on the ground. Face twisted in pain and despair. You had just made your promise to her. That you would save her from her contract with Kyubey. That you would keep trying until you succeeded, no matter how many tries it took.
An arm extended above her body, soul gem in hand. To give you a better shot. So you could do the other thing she asked you to do.
The gem dark with despair. Cuts on her hand. Injuries from the battle on her body.
You're just beginning to draw the gun you used when you hear footsteps. "Sayaka?" calls your mother, sounding worried.
[] Hide the picture!
-[] Under the couch.
-[] In your daiper.
-[] In the trash.
[] Destroy the picture!
-[] Eat it.
-[] Scribbles.
-[] Tear it up.
[] Run up to Sayaka's mother. Distract her so she doesn't see the picture.
-[] Cry.
-[] Laugh.
[] Keep drawing. Turn the gun into something else and try to avoid suspicion.
[] Something else? {Write-in}
There's nothing to be done but to make more.
By now, you have completely mastered crawling. And Sayaka's parents never bothered to hide where they keep the crayons. The paper is in the printer. You can do this.
You bide your time until a distraction occurs (the phone rings), then take off. Over the course of fifteen minutes, you manage to climb your way to the printer, steal some paper, climb up to where the crayons are kept, and put together a new set of drawings (which are just as terrible as the first). Unfortunately, just as you're climbing up a chair you slid in front of the refrigerator to put your precious memory aids onto the fridge, Sayaka's mother catches you. She promptly pulls you off of the chair and chews you out for doing something so dangerous. She then takes your drawings and tells you that, as punishment, they aren't going onto the fridge.
Curses.
0o0o0
Sayaka's parents don't seem to have realized you know where they keep the crayons. That, or they have far more faith in their ability to keep track of you than is deserved. Your next chance comes that very same day. Sayaka's mother gets a little too involved in a conversation with her husband (and you still haven't learned their names, thanks to their tendency to call each other "mommy" and "daddy"), and off you go.
This time you only manage to get through halfway through the first of your drawings before the parents catch onto your disappearance. Once they find you drawing, however, they go back to making incoherent noises to encourage your artwork. Admittedly, you feel prouder than you should over your art, likely due in part to such encouragement. That a baby is producing crayon drawings that are even vaguely recognizable as anything is impressive. At the same time, that someone your actual age is eking out such bleary imagery despite her best efforts is absolutely appalling. Still, they should work for their intended purpose.
Once more, up on the fridge your art goes.
It stays there for all of a week. You must come up with a more permanent solution.
0o0o0
Over the course of your latest artistic venture, you manage to hide the pink, blue, yellow, red, gray, and purple crayons. Your parents express some concern over the missing crayons, but eventually give up their search. All according to plan.
That night, you sneak out of your crib. It's risky, since your parents don't know you can do that yet, and you're not certain you'll be able to get back in afterwards. If they catch you outside your crib, they're likely to take measures to keep you in it in the future, which will limit your mobility. But it's a risk you need to take. Remembering everything is too important.
You manage to get out of your parents' room without alerting either of them. Grabbing a piece of paper from the printer, you retrieve the crayons you hid and get to work. There is something that you haven't been able to draw, yet. A memory that haunts your mind. Something you can never, ever let yourself forget. If nothing else, you have to remember it. No matter how much it hurts.
You painstakingly recreate the scene from your memories, drawing as carefully as possible. You need this drawing in particular to be accurate. Madoka, lying on the ground. Face twisted in pain and despair. You had just made your promise to her. That you would save her from her contract with Kyubey. That you would keep trying until you succeeded, no matter how many tries it took.
An arm extended above her body, soul gem in hand. To give you a better shot. So you could do the other thing she asked you to do.
The gem dark with despair. Cuts on her hand. Injuries from the battle on her body.
You're just beginning to draw the gun you used when you hear footsteps. "Sayaka?" calls your mother, sounding worried.
[] Hide the picture!
-[] Under the couch.
-[] In your daiper.
-[] In the trash.
[] Destroy the picture!
-[] Eat it.
-[] Scribbles.
-[] Tear it up.
[] Run up to Sayaka's mother. Distract her so she doesn't see the picture.
-[] Cry.
-[] Laugh.
[] Keep drawing. Turn the gun into something else and try to avoid suspicion.
[] Something else? {Write-in}
Baby Sayaka Gets Put in her Crib
Hyp3rB14d3
Gotta catch 'em all!
You hear Mrs. Miki approaching. At this point, it's too late to try to hide the picture. But you can't let her see it as is. Instead, you begin making adjustments to the image as quickly as you can. You feel a nervous energy fill you. Were you still a Puella Magi, you're certain your hand would be little more than a blur on the paper by now. As is, you make due with the awkward movements of a baby with a crayon.
Over the course of several seconds, the gun is transformed into a badly drawn crayon. You color over the wounds on Madoka with pink, changing her outfit to something that isn't obviously the Mitakihara middle school uniform. You-
"THERE YOU ARE!"
Drop your crayon and pee your diaper in terr- er, surprise. Yes. Surprise.
..Actually, no, you pee your diaper because you're a baby with no bladder control.
Before you can recover your dropped crayon, your mother scoops you up. You struggle futilely as she pulls you into her embrace. "You shouldn't sneak out of the room at night. You nearly scared me to death!" She snuggles you for a moment. Then she pauses. She holds you up and inspects your bottom before scrunching up her face. "Looks like somebody needs a change."
As Mrs. Miki begins carrying you back to the bedroom, you give a lamenting glance back at your ruined drawing. ...Well, maybe not ruined, per se. It's got the essence of the scene down, if not the accuracy. If you can pick it up before the Miki's get it, you should be able to edit it back into a working memory mnemonic.
"What's this? Were you drawing again?" Sayaka's mother, having apparently followed your gaze, has spotted your drawing. She makes a return trip to the living room and snatches up your drawing. "Well, you'll just have to finish this in the morning. You're supposed to be... sleeping..." Mrs. Miki trails off as she looks the picture over. "...Why is my baby daughter a better artist than I am?"
Your mother sets the picture on a table before bringing you back to the bedroom and changing your diaper. She then sets you in your crib.
You pout at her.
"Don't give me that look. It's bed time. You shouldn't be up at this hour." Mrs. Miki yawns. "And neither should I. We'll discuss this in the morning." She turns and walks back to her bed.
It looks like Mr. Miki slept through the whole thing.
[] Go to sleep. You can make a new drawing in the morning.
[] Wait until she goes to sleep, then slip back out of your crib and finish the drawing. You'll hide it somewhere.
Also...
[] Continue with Baby Shenanigans.
[] Time Skip forward at the end of the next update.
Over the course of several seconds, the gun is transformed into a badly drawn crayon. You color over the wounds on Madoka with pink, changing her outfit to something that isn't obviously the Mitakihara middle school uniform. You-
"THERE YOU ARE!"
Drop your crayon and pee your diaper in terr- er, surprise. Yes. Surprise.
..Actually, no, you pee your diaper because you're a baby with no bladder control.
Before you can recover your dropped crayon, your mother scoops you up. You struggle futilely as she pulls you into her embrace. "You shouldn't sneak out of the room at night. You nearly scared me to death!" She snuggles you for a moment. Then she pauses. She holds you up and inspects your bottom before scrunching up her face. "Looks like somebody needs a change."
As Mrs. Miki begins carrying you back to the bedroom, you give a lamenting glance back at your ruined drawing. ...Well, maybe not ruined, per se. It's got the essence of the scene down, if not the accuracy. If you can pick it up before the Miki's get it, you should be able to edit it back into a working memory mnemonic.
"What's this? Were you drawing again?" Sayaka's mother, having apparently followed your gaze, has spotted your drawing. She makes a return trip to the living room and snatches up your drawing. "Well, you'll just have to finish this in the morning. You're supposed to be... sleeping..." Mrs. Miki trails off as she looks the picture over. "...Why is my baby daughter a better artist than I am?"
Your mother sets the picture on a table before bringing you back to the bedroom and changing your diaper. She then sets you in your crib.
You pout at her.
"Don't give me that look. It's bed time. You shouldn't be up at this hour." Mrs. Miki yawns. "And neither should I. We'll discuss this in the morning." She turns and walks back to her bed.
It looks like Mr. Miki slept through the whole thing.
[] Go to sleep. You can make a new drawing in the morning.
[] Wait until she goes to sleep, then slip back out of your crib and finish the drawing. You'll hide it somewhere.
Also...
[] Continue with Baby Shenanigans.
[] Time Skip forward at the end of the next update.
Baby Sayaka Reminisces
Hyp3rB14d3
Gotta catch 'em all!
You lie silently in the crib for close to an hour. Mrs. Miki's breathing has long since leveled out, but you need to be absolutely certain she isn't faking while waiting to see if you try to escape again. Finally, you sit up. Your mother doesn't respond.
Quietly, you slip out of your crib once again.
Part of you wants to wait until morning and just make another drawing, but you've already blown your trump card. Who knows when the Mikis will switch you to a crib you can't get out of? You need to finish this now.
The door isn't shut. You crawl out of the bedroom.
Mrs. Miki left the drawing on the table. It's too high up for your to reach from your feet, but not from a chair. It takes a few minutes, but you manage to move a chair into position and retrieve it.
The crayons are still where you left them, having been missed by Mrs. Miki entirely. You put the paper back down and resume your work.
The gun isn't going to work with gray anymore. Too much crayon to get rid of. Instead, you color over it in purple. The result is a dark colored gun with an overly large crayon behind it. You then modify the crayon into a piece of debris that happens to be behind your hand. More wreckage joins it, making it look less obtrusive.
Likewise, Madoka's school uniform is a toss. You have no way to return it to how it was. You decide to improvise and color over the rest in pink, deliberately leaving a strip of yellow down the front of her outfit. The skirt is too dark to turn into her magical girl uniform skirt, so you leave it as is. The result is a strange fusion of the Mitakihara school uniform and Madoka's magical girl uniform. Not quite what she was wearing at the time, but it keeps the idea.
At this point, maintaining the idea is very, very important.
You look at your drawing. Madoka lies on the ground, a pained expression on her face. Her soul gem in her hand. A gun in yours. A gray pillar of debris sticks out behind everything.
You realize your hand is shaking. You unclench your jaw and wait for your hand to steady. This is harder than you realized it would be. After a moment, you add in something that wasn't there. Kyubey. Perched on the piece of debris that used to be a crayon. Watching over as you murder your best friend to save her from a fate worse than death.
You resist the temptation to add a more sinister expression to Kyubey's face. Leaving him with his usual expression is enough. You'll remember him, and you'll hate him.
You turn the paper over.
One more. One more thing you can't let yourself forget. You grab the blue crayon.
You start with the dress. That massive gown your hated enemy always wore. Fluttering as it moved, giving an impression of grace. You hate that fucking dress.
Next comes the gear. Thick, metal. Attached to the rest of the witch by a relatively thin stick. You never did manage to break it off, despite trying numerous times. But then, you never managed to do any lasting damage to Walpurgisnact.
You take the brown crayon and draw the stick connecting the gear to the dress. As if the dress were a puppet being moved by the gear. As if it were playing. Reveling in violence and destruction like it was a game, no matter what you threw at it.
The witch's chilling laughter echoes through your mind. That demented smile. That horrific shadow it cast over everything. You remember it clearly.
You grab the red crayon and draw its mouth.
How many times have you fought it now? Alone? With allies?
Always with the same result.
Always losing. Always failing. Always watching Madoka die or wish.
You draw the hat, then the decorations on its sleeves.
You're crying. You can't do this. Not like this. You've fought it so many times. You can't beat it. Yes, you have more time to prepare. But could any amount of preparation be enough?
[] It doesn't matter whether it's possible or not. You'll wish it to be possible. Even if that means paying the price for your miracle afterwards. (Save your wish for Walpurgisnact.)
[] You'll find a way. For the time being, prepare and grow stronger. (Wish at the earliest opportunity, and try to grow strong enough to defeat Walpurgisnact.)
[] You aren't a magical girl anymore. Fighting witches is no longer something you're obligated to do. (Don't wish at all. Arrange some sort of trip for when Walpurgisnact arrives.)
[] Something else? {Write-in}
NOTE: YOU ARE NOT LOCKED INTO THIS FOREVER. THIS ONLY DETERMINES YOUR BEHAVIOR DURING THE TIMESKIP.
You set the crayon down. You then look around for a hiding spot. Unfortunately, as a baby, private storage locations are in short supply. In the end, you fold it up and slip it under the fridge. Your hands are small enough that you can pull it back out later, and who looks under the fridge?
You put away the crayons, then return to your parents room. Unfortunately, while you could climb out of your crib and drop down to get out, you can't get back into it from ground level. You would have to climb off something. And a chair sitting next to your crib the next morning would practically scream what you did to your parents. While Mrs. Miki might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer while she's tired, you doubt you'll get away without scrutiny if you pull something like that in the morning.
So you wail. Loudly.
The result is immediate. The Mikis awaken and quickly begin checking you for injuries. You quickly quiet down. They continue fussing over you for a few minutes, before eventually returning to bed. To your annoyance, they take you with them instead of putting you back in your crib. Mrs. Miki tells Mr. Miki about you getting out earlier that night, and they talk about replacing the crib with something you can't keep getting out of.
You tune the discussion out, and your mind drifts back to the numerous times you've lived through that hellish month. From when you first went back so you could save Madoka to when the loops became your own personal hell. No friends, no family, relying on noone. Trusted by noone. Seen by your friends as a suspicious stranger, an enemy at worst, as an ally of convenience at best. Watching those you care about die over and over and over.
It hurts. It would be so much easier to just let yourself forget. To be Miki Sayaka, and to live life as a normal girl. But you can't do that.
You decide to do this every night. To remind yourself of who you were and what your goal is.
And so you do.
[] Your first friend.
[] Kindergarten.
[] A violin performance.
[] A religious awakening.
[] Something else? {Write-in}
[] Mom and Dad
[] Mother and Father
[] Their names.
[] Mikimom and Mikidad.
[] Something else? {Write-in}
Quietly, you slip out of your crib once again.
Part of you wants to wait until morning and just make another drawing, but you've already blown your trump card. Who knows when the Mikis will switch you to a crib you can't get out of? You need to finish this now.
The door isn't shut. You crawl out of the bedroom.
Mrs. Miki left the drawing on the table. It's too high up for your to reach from your feet, but not from a chair. It takes a few minutes, but you manage to move a chair into position and retrieve it.
The crayons are still where you left them, having been missed by Mrs. Miki entirely. You put the paper back down and resume your work.
The gun isn't going to work with gray anymore. Too much crayon to get rid of. Instead, you color over it in purple. The result is a dark colored gun with an overly large crayon behind it. You then modify the crayon into a piece of debris that happens to be behind your hand. More wreckage joins it, making it look less obtrusive.
Likewise, Madoka's school uniform is a toss. You have no way to return it to how it was. You decide to improvise and color over the rest in pink, deliberately leaving a strip of yellow down the front of her outfit. The skirt is too dark to turn into her magical girl uniform skirt, so you leave it as is. The result is a strange fusion of the Mitakihara school uniform and Madoka's magical girl uniform. Not quite what she was wearing at the time, but it keeps the idea.
At this point, maintaining the idea is very, very important.
You look at your drawing. Madoka lies on the ground, a pained expression on her face. Her soul gem in her hand. A gun in yours. A gray pillar of debris sticks out behind everything.
You realize your hand is shaking. You unclench your jaw and wait for your hand to steady. This is harder than you realized it would be. After a moment, you add in something that wasn't there. Kyubey. Perched on the piece of debris that used to be a crayon. Watching over as you murder your best friend to save her from a fate worse than death.
You resist the temptation to add a more sinister expression to Kyubey's face. Leaving him with his usual expression is enough. You'll remember him, and you'll hate him.
You turn the paper over.
One more. One more thing you can't let yourself forget. You grab the blue crayon.
You start with the dress. That massive gown your hated enemy always wore. Fluttering as it moved, giving an impression of grace. You hate that fucking dress.
Next comes the gear. Thick, metal. Attached to the rest of the witch by a relatively thin stick. You never did manage to break it off, despite trying numerous times. But then, you never managed to do any lasting damage to Walpurgisnact.
You take the brown crayon and draw the stick connecting the gear to the dress. As if the dress were a puppet being moved by the gear. As if it were playing. Reveling in violence and destruction like it was a game, no matter what you threw at it.
The witch's chilling laughter echoes through your mind. That demented smile. That horrific shadow it cast over everything. You remember it clearly.
You grab the red crayon and draw its mouth.
How many times have you fought it now? Alone? With allies?
Always with the same result.
Always losing. Always failing. Always watching Madoka die or wish.
You draw the hat, then the decorations on its sleeves.
You're crying. You can't do this. Not like this. You've fought it so many times. You can't beat it. Yes, you have more time to prepare. But could any amount of preparation be enough?
HOW WILL YOU APPROACH THE WALPURGISNACT SITUATION?
[] It doesn't matter whether it's possible or not. You'll wish it to be possible. Even if that means paying the price for your miracle afterwards. (Save your wish for Walpurgisnact.)
[] You'll find a way. For the time being, prepare and grow stronger. (Wish at the earliest opportunity, and try to grow strong enough to defeat Walpurgisnact.)
[] You aren't a magical girl anymore. Fighting witches is no longer something you're obligated to do. (Don't wish at all. Arrange some sort of trip for when Walpurgisnact arrives.)
[] Something else? {Write-in}
NOTE: YOU ARE NOT LOCKED INTO THIS FOREVER. THIS ONLY DETERMINES YOUR BEHAVIOR DURING THE TIMESKIP.
You set the crayon down. You then look around for a hiding spot. Unfortunately, as a baby, private storage locations are in short supply. In the end, you fold it up and slip it under the fridge. Your hands are small enough that you can pull it back out later, and who looks under the fridge?
You put away the crayons, then return to your parents room. Unfortunately, while you could climb out of your crib and drop down to get out, you can't get back into it from ground level. You would have to climb off something. And a chair sitting next to your crib the next morning would practically scream what you did to your parents. While Mrs. Miki might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer while she's tired, you doubt you'll get away without scrutiny if you pull something like that in the morning.
So you wail. Loudly.
The result is immediate. The Mikis awaken and quickly begin checking you for injuries. You quickly quiet down. They continue fussing over you for a few minutes, before eventually returning to bed. To your annoyance, they take you with them instead of putting you back in your crib. Mrs. Miki tells Mr. Miki about you getting out earlier that night, and they talk about replacing the crib with something you can't keep getting out of.
You tune the discussion out, and your mind drifts back to the numerous times you've lived through that hellish month. From when you first went back so you could save Madoka to when the loops became your own personal hell. No friends, no family, relying on noone. Trusted by noone. Seen by your friends as a suspicious stranger, an enemy at worst, as an ally of convenience at best. Watching those you care about die over and over and over.
It hurts. It would be so much easier to just let yourself forget. To be Miki Sayaka, and to live life as a normal girl. But you can't do that.
You decide to do this every night. To remind yourself of who you were and what your goal is.
And so you do.
TIME SKIP
[] Your first friend.
[] Kindergarten.
[] A violin performance.
[] A religious awakening.
[] Something else? {Write-in}
WHAT DO YOU CALL YOUR PARENTS
[] Mom and Dad
[] Mother and Father
[] Their names.
[] Mikimom and Mikidad.
[] Something else? {Write-in}
Last edited:
Toddler Sayaka Meets Hitomi
Hyp3rB14d3
Gotta catch 'em all!
You put your entire being into preparing yourself. Learning to walk, then to run. Doing pushups and sit-ups (or trying to, anyways) when your parents aren't looking. Practicing jumping and climbing. Struggling to drive your infantile body to the limits of its ability. Your progress is frustratingly slow, but you soldier on. You'll see results eventually.
When not training your body, you produce more and more reminders of your memories. Crayon drawings of magical girls. Finger paintings of Walpurgisnact. A macaroni craft of Kyubey. You have to remember. You cannot let yourself forget.
And the entire time, you are accompanied by Sayaka's parents.
It's little surprise that they notice your efforts, what with them being far beyond what a normal infant is capable of. The two seem to go back and forth over whether you're going to be a great athlete or an artist, and constantly tell you how proud they are of you. Perhaps that's how it ended up happening. Or maybe it's just because they provide your food, clothing, shelter, and cleanliness.
Either way, you gradually realize you've grown attached to them.
There's not much you can do to show them your gratitude, but you do what you can. You don't cry unless you absolutely have to. You potty train yourself at a record pace. You understand instructions and follow them. You even behave well enough that they can take you places in public without you causing a scene. In short, you're a perfect little angel.
You even resolve to start calling them "Mom" and "Dad." Once you're old enough to start talking, anyways. You'll even make sure those are your first words.
That said, you aren't sure when babies are supposed to start talking, and don't want to set off any warning bells by talking too soon or too well. You've already been pushing your luck with your artwork, potty training, and physical mobility.
Nevertheless, it's a peaceful, if somewhat dull, existence. You try to take solace in the peace while you still can.
All good things must come to an end, however. And at just a little over a year old, you end up encountering something you really should have expected to come across eventually: a babysitter.
"Thank you so much for taking her this evening," your mother says as she hands you off to a vaguely familiar looking stranger. "Sayaka's well behaved, but we can't take her everywhere. And it's been over a year since Kenji and I last went out without bringing her along."
"It's not a problem, Miho," the woman replies. You find yourself trying not to cry as the vaguely familiar stranger reaches out with her terrible stranger arms and takes you away from the woman you've reluctantly grown to see as your mother, to limited success. Tears gather in your eyes, but you don't make a sound. "I can't imagine not going out for that long."
"Oh, we've gone out. We've just always taken Sayaka with us."
"Really?" asks the woman, sounding impressed.
"Really," your mother replies. "Sayaka's a good girl." Your mother turns to look at you and smiles. "That's why I know you'll behave until I get back. Isn't that right?"
You force yourself to nod. You'll be good.
Your mother nods back, then looks at the woman holding you. "Sayaka likes to draw, so you can probably keep her distracted by giving her some crayons.
"I'll keep that in mind," your babysitter replies. "I think I've got some around here somewhere."
"I'll be back in a few hours," your mother promises you, before disappearing out the door.
True to her word, the babysitter produces a set of crayons and some paper. You proceed to distract yourself from how much you miss your parents by drawing. Normally, you would draw Madoka, or one of her friends. Unfortunately, your art is a little too good for comfort for most adults, so you instead draw Walpurgisnact. Let the adults think you're just drawing badly. You'll never let yourself forget.
A few minutes into your drawing, a loud crunch alerts you to a presence behind you. You turn to find a girl about your age staring at you while chewing on carrots. Idly, you note that she has teeth, something you still lack. You ignore the surge of jealousy over her ability to eat things other than the terrible baby food your parents keep giving you.
A few seconds pass, and the girl continues to stare. Eventually, you grow bored and turn back to your drawing, only to hear the girl loudly swallow.
Her mouth clear of food, she gives you a serious look. "I hear you're stupid," she says solemnly.
"HITOMI!" says the babysitter, looking scandalized. "That's not nice!"
The girl, who you now know to be Hitomi, frowns. "But Mom, you said she can't talk," says the girl. "That means she's stupid."
A look of realization crosses the babysitter's, no, Hitomi's mother's face. "Dumb. Something that can't talk is dumb."
"Oh," says the girl, bringing a hand to her mouth. She then turns back to you. "Mom says you're dumb."
You feel an unfamiliar anger growing toward the girl.
[] Hit her.
[] Ignore her and keep drawing.
[] Point at her and yell "DUMB! DUMB!"
[] Something else? {Write-in}
When not training your body, you produce more and more reminders of your memories. Crayon drawings of magical girls. Finger paintings of Walpurgisnact. A macaroni craft of Kyubey. You have to remember. You cannot let yourself forget.
And the entire time, you are accompanied by Sayaka's parents.
It's little surprise that they notice your efforts, what with them being far beyond what a normal infant is capable of. The two seem to go back and forth over whether you're going to be a great athlete or an artist, and constantly tell you how proud they are of you. Perhaps that's how it ended up happening. Or maybe it's just because they provide your food, clothing, shelter, and cleanliness.
Either way, you gradually realize you've grown attached to them.
There's not much you can do to show them your gratitude, but you do what you can. You don't cry unless you absolutely have to. You potty train yourself at a record pace. You understand instructions and follow them. You even behave well enough that they can take you places in public without you causing a scene. In short, you're a perfect little angel.
You even resolve to start calling them "Mom" and "Dad." Once you're old enough to start talking, anyways. You'll even make sure those are your first words.
That said, you aren't sure when babies are supposed to start talking, and don't want to set off any warning bells by talking too soon or too well. You've already been pushing your luck with your artwork, potty training, and physical mobility.
Nevertheless, it's a peaceful, if somewhat dull, existence. You try to take solace in the peace while you still can.
All good things must come to an end, however. And at just a little over a year old, you end up encountering something you really should have expected to come across eventually: a babysitter.
0o0o0
"Thank you so much for taking her this evening," your mother says as she hands you off to a vaguely familiar looking stranger. "Sayaka's well behaved, but we can't take her everywhere. And it's been over a year since Kenji and I last went out without bringing her along."
"It's not a problem, Miho," the woman replies. You find yourself trying not to cry as the vaguely familiar stranger reaches out with her terrible stranger arms and takes you away from the woman you've reluctantly grown to see as your mother, to limited success. Tears gather in your eyes, but you don't make a sound. "I can't imagine not going out for that long."
"Oh, we've gone out. We've just always taken Sayaka with us."
"Really?" asks the woman, sounding impressed.
"Really," your mother replies. "Sayaka's a good girl." Your mother turns to look at you and smiles. "That's why I know you'll behave until I get back. Isn't that right?"
You force yourself to nod. You'll be good.
Your mother nods back, then looks at the woman holding you. "Sayaka likes to draw, so you can probably keep her distracted by giving her some crayons.
"I'll keep that in mind," your babysitter replies. "I think I've got some around here somewhere."
"I'll be back in a few hours," your mother promises you, before disappearing out the door.
0o0o0
True to her word, the babysitter produces a set of crayons and some paper. You proceed to distract yourself from how much you miss your parents by drawing. Normally, you would draw Madoka, or one of her friends. Unfortunately, your art is a little too good for comfort for most adults, so you instead draw Walpurgisnact. Let the adults think you're just drawing badly. You'll never let yourself forget.
A few minutes into your drawing, a loud crunch alerts you to a presence behind you. You turn to find a girl about your age staring at you while chewing on carrots. Idly, you note that she has teeth, something you still lack. You ignore the surge of jealousy over her ability to eat things other than the terrible baby food your parents keep giving you.
A few seconds pass, and the girl continues to stare. Eventually, you grow bored and turn back to your drawing, only to hear the girl loudly swallow.
Her mouth clear of food, she gives you a serious look. "I hear you're stupid," she says solemnly.
"HITOMI!" says the babysitter, looking scandalized. "That's not nice!"
The girl, who you now know to be Hitomi, frowns. "But Mom, you said she can't talk," says the girl. "That means she's stupid."
A look of realization crosses the babysitter's, no, Hitomi's mother's face. "Dumb. Something that can't talk is dumb."
"Oh," says the girl, bringing a hand to her mouth. She then turns back to you. "Mom says you're dumb."
You feel an unfamiliar anger growing toward the girl.
[] Hit her.
[] Ignore her and keep drawing.
[] Point at her and yell "DUMB! DUMB!"
[] Something else? {Write-in}
Toddler Sayaka Meets Maybe-Kyouko
Hyp3rB14d3
Gotta catch 'em all!
You wait for Hitomi's mother to reprimand her daughter over insulting you. She doesn't. You suppose that she's more interested in teaching her daughter new words than assuaging the feelings of the mute toddler. And it makes sense, you suppose.
Still, this cannot stand. Silently, you place the crayon on the table, then stand up. You turn toward Hitomi and take a step forward. Hitomi looks uncertainly back at her mother, but Mrs. Shizuki simply watches with a look of interest.
You reach out and pat Hitomi on the head, before shaking your head with a look of disappointment on your face. Despite your physical appearance, you're far too mature to get into a fight with a toddler. And you want her to know it. After earning a look of confusion from Hitomi and a bout of laughter from her mother, you turn around and return to your seat at the table.
After a few moments, Hitomi begins to look angry. "Are you making fun of me?" she asks.
You don't answer. After all, you're supposed to be dumb. Instead, you start drawing. Honestly, her manners are nearly as bad as Kyouko's. ...Or perhaps it's that Kyouko's manners were as bad as that of a child.
A cry of anger draws your attention to Hitomi, who runs at the table. You slide to your feet, preparing to fend off Hitomi's attack as best as your toddler body can manage, only for a pair of hands to beat you to the punch. "Hitomi, no! We do not hit!"
"I do!" yells Hitomi. "I hit! Watch me!"
"If you hit Sayaka, you will go to the corner," says Mrs. Shizuki.
That brings pause to the girl. After a moment, she promises not to hit you.
You sit back down and resume drawing. After a moment, the television turns on, but Hitomi continues to glower over you instead of watching it. You muse over how similar Kyouko was to a child. You wonder if befriending Hitomi would be as simple as giving her candy.
...
It couldn't be, right? Madoka's wish must have been about you and Sayaka. The original Sayaka. But was it just you and Sayaka?
You quickly grab a new piece of paper and a red crayon. Hitomi is still glaring at you from nearby. Good. That means she'll see it. You quickly begin drawing Kyouko as best as you can remember her, in her Puella Magi costume, glancing back at her to see if any recognition appears in her eyes.
For the first few moments, nothing happens. Then maybe-Kyouko gasps.
"MOMMY! SAYAKA'S MAKING FUN OF ME!"
Mrs. Shizuki looks up, and you continue drawing. "Sweetie, she's just drawing a picture."
"But she's using red! You said that's the opposite of green!"
"That doesn't mean she's making fun of you, dear. She's just using a red crayon."
You resist the urge to facepalm as you switch to a black crayon. You needed to do Kyouko's stockings and ribbon anyways. Judging by her face, Hitomi isn't impressed by your attempt at appeasement.
"Fine," she says. "Then I'm gonna draw too!"
You watch as Hitomi grabs a piece of paper and starts drawing. By now, she's ignoring you. ...Well, even if she's not Kyouko, you can always use another reminder of your past. Future. The world that won't exist.
For the next several minutes, you lose yourself in the drawing. Kyouko's hair. Her face. Her eyes. Her soul gem. The picture is turning out to be one of your better ones.
"DONE!" Hitomi suddenly declares, before holding up a picture. "I win!"
You look at the drawing Hitomi is showing you. You think it's supposed to be a drawing of you with a blue mustache. And a white cape. And a blue shirt, skirt, shoes, and detached sleeves.
...
"I drew a superhero!" Hitomi declares. "Mustache girl!" Hitomi then jumps up and runs off to show her mother.
Mustache girl looks suspiciously similar to Sayaka Miki's magical girl form from before. Well, aside from the mustache anyways. But that could be a coincidence caused by Hitomi using only a blue crayon while making the drawing.
[] Confront her. If Hitomi is Kyouko, you want to know now.
[] Wait. If Hitomi is Kyouko, she'll still be Kyouko after you 'start talking,' and you don't want to risk being caught speaking sentences before you've said your first word.
[] Ignore her. Ultimately, it doesn't matter whether Hitomi is Kyouko or not.
[] Something else. {Write-in}
Still, this cannot stand. Silently, you place the crayon on the table, then stand up. You turn toward Hitomi and take a step forward. Hitomi looks uncertainly back at her mother, but Mrs. Shizuki simply watches with a look of interest.
You reach out and pat Hitomi on the head, before shaking your head with a look of disappointment on your face. Despite your physical appearance, you're far too mature to get into a fight with a toddler. And you want her to know it. After earning a look of confusion from Hitomi and a bout of laughter from her mother, you turn around and return to your seat at the table.
After a few moments, Hitomi begins to look angry. "Are you making fun of me?" she asks.
You don't answer. After all, you're supposed to be dumb. Instead, you start drawing. Honestly, her manners are nearly as bad as Kyouko's. ...Or perhaps it's that Kyouko's manners were as bad as that of a child.
A cry of anger draws your attention to Hitomi, who runs at the table. You slide to your feet, preparing to fend off Hitomi's attack as best as your toddler body can manage, only for a pair of hands to beat you to the punch. "Hitomi, no! We do not hit!"
"I do!" yells Hitomi. "I hit! Watch me!"
"If you hit Sayaka, you will go to the corner," says Mrs. Shizuki.
That brings pause to the girl. After a moment, she promises not to hit you.
You sit back down and resume drawing. After a moment, the television turns on, but Hitomi continues to glower over you instead of watching it. You muse over how similar Kyouko was to a child. You wonder if befriending Hitomi would be as simple as giving her candy.
...
It couldn't be, right? Madoka's wish must have been about you and Sayaka. The original Sayaka. But was it just you and Sayaka?
You quickly grab a new piece of paper and a red crayon. Hitomi is still glaring at you from nearby. Good. That means she'll see it. You quickly begin drawing Kyouko as best as you can remember her, in her Puella Magi costume, glancing back at her to see if any recognition appears in her eyes.
For the first few moments, nothing happens. Then maybe-Kyouko gasps.
"MOMMY! SAYAKA'S MAKING FUN OF ME!"
Mrs. Shizuki looks up, and you continue drawing. "Sweetie, she's just drawing a picture."
"But she's using red! You said that's the opposite of green!"
"That doesn't mean she's making fun of you, dear. She's just using a red crayon."
You resist the urge to facepalm as you switch to a black crayon. You needed to do Kyouko's stockings and ribbon anyways. Judging by her face, Hitomi isn't impressed by your attempt at appeasement.
"Fine," she says. "Then I'm gonna draw too!"
You watch as Hitomi grabs a piece of paper and starts drawing. By now, she's ignoring you. ...Well, even if she's not Kyouko, you can always use another reminder of your past. Future. The world that won't exist.
For the next several minutes, you lose yourself in the drawing. Kyouko's hair. Her face. Her eyes. Her soul gem. The picture is turning out to be one of your better ones.
"DONE!" Hitomi suddenly declares, before holding up a picture. "I win!"
You look at the drawing Hitomi is showing you. You think it's supposed to be a drawing of you with a blue mustache. And a white cape. And a blue shirt, skirt, shoes, and detached sleeves.
...
"I drew a superhero!" Hitomi declares. "Mustache girl!" Hitomi then jumps up and runs off to show her mother.
Mustache girl looks suspiciously similar to Sayaka Miki's magical girl form from before. Well, aside from the mustache anyways. But that could be a coincidence caused by Hitomi using only a blue crayon while making the drawing.
[] Confront her. If Hitomi is Kyouko, you want to know now.
[] Wait. If Hitomi is Kyouko, she'll still be Kyouko after you 'start talking,' and you don't want to risk being caught speaking sentences before you've said your first word.
[] Ignore her. Ultimately, it doesn't matter whether Hitomi is Kyouko or not.
[] Something else. {Write-in}
Last edited:
Toddler Sayaka Makes Hitomi Mad
Hyp3rB14d3
Gotta catch 'em all!
Unfortunately, despite 'Mustache Girl's' similarity to your, or rather, the original Sayaka's magical girl form, that doesn't really prove anything either way. Hitomi could be Kyouko reincarnate. Or she could be someone else that knew Sayaka. Or the similarity could be because she drew a generic superhero entirely in blue crayon and modelled it after you with a mustache.
Still, you can't just let this go. If Hitomi really is Kyouko, or anyone else who knew Sayaka, then you need to know. For the security of your own identity, if nothing else.
...Except, having never established yourself as capable of talking, you can't exactly ask her outright.
You rack your brain for a new, original test that could conclusively determine whether or not Hitomi is secretly one of your friends, or even one of your enemies reincarnated, ideally without exposing yourself as Homura Akemi. Unfortunately, your brain (or is that Sayaka's brain?) fails to provide, and you end up just drawing Mami while Hitomi brags about her drawing to her mother.
For several minutes, you focus entirely on creating the drawing. You make ample use of not just the yellow and brown crayons, but also the tan, white, and peach ones. You smile as the drawing comes together. You idly muse that you're becoming quite skilled with crayons. The difference between your drawing and Hitomi's is like night and day. Her drawing was recognizable as you primarily due to the color scheme. On the other hand, Mami comes out clearly recognizable in yours. And not just as a person in a magical girl outfit, but as Mami Tomoe. You're certain that if this is Kyouko, or anyone else who knew Mami, she won't be able to hide her reaction.
You look up to find Hitomi glaring at you. No wait, at the drawing. After a moment, she looks down at the drawing she made of Mustache Girl. Then she looks back at the drawing of Mami. With a cry of frustration, Hitomi throws her drawing on the floor and runs off.
[] Go after her.
-[] Screw maintaining your cover as a mute toddler. Try to explain things.
-[] Call her Kyouko.
-[] Bring your picture. Waive it at her.
[] Let her go.
-[] Draw the rest of the magical girls.
-[] Conclude it's Kyouko. Decide to start "learning to talk."
[] Slap yourself hard enough to make a noise, then start crying. Mrs. Shizuki should handle things from there.
[] Something else? {Write-in}
Still, you can't just let this go. If Hitomi really is Kyouko, or anyone else who knew Sayaka, then you need to know. For the security of your own identity, if nothing else.
...Except, having never established yourself as capable of talking, you can't exactly ask her outright.
You rack your brain for a new, original test that could conclusively determine whether or not Hitomi is secretly one of your friends, or even one of your enemies reincarnated, ideally without exposing yourself as Homura Akemi. Unfortunately, your brain (or is that Sayaka's brain?) fails to provide, and you end up just drawing Mami while Hitomi brags about her drawing to her mother.
For several minutes, you focus entirely on creating the drawing. You make ample use of not just the yellow and brown crayons, but also the tan, white, and peach ones. You smile as the drawing comes together. You idly muse that you're becoming quite skilled with crayons. The difference between your drawing and Hitomi's is like night and day. Her drawing was recognizable as you primarily due to the color scheme. On the other hand, Mami comes out clearly recognizable in yours. And not just as a person in a magical girl outfit, but as Mami Tomoe. You're certain that if this is Kyouko, or anyone else who knew Mami, she won't be able to hide her reaction.
You look up to find Hitomi glaring at you. No wait, at the drawing. After a moment, she looks down at the drawing she made of Mustache Girl. Then she looks back at the drawing of Mami. With a cry of frustration, Hitomi throws her drawing on the floor and runs off.
[] Go after her.
-[] Screw maintaining your cover as a mute toddler. Try to explain things.
-[] Call her Kyouko.
-[] Bring your picture. Waive it at her.
[] Let her go.
-[] Draw the rest of the magical girls.
-[] Conclude it's Kyouko. Decide to start "learning to talk."
[] Slap yourself hard enough to make a noise, then start crying. Mrs. Shizuki should handle things from there.
[] Something else? {Write-in}
Toddler Sayaka Gives Hitomi a Hug
Hyp3rB14d3
Gotta catch 'em all!
Crud. That was not what was supposed to happen. As Hitomi takes off running in a fit, you abruptly abandon your drawing in favor of pursuing her. In your attempts to divine the truth behind her nature, you seem to have unintentionally alienated Hitomi. Which is bad if she's a normal toddler, and worse if she's secretly Kyouko. As your mind races for a solution, your feet race toward Hitomi.
Unfortunately, your focus on developing your physical abilities over your social graces bites you in the ass as your feet win that race, and you find yourself caught up with Hitomi with no idea on what to do. But then, socialization has never been your greatest strength, even before your rebirth.
For a few moments, you simply hold pace with her as you puzzle out your next step. Then Hitomi notices you.
"NO!" she yells, turning to face you. "GO AWAY!"
Fortunately, you've always been decent at improvising. Where others would see an angry toddler demanding to be left alone, you see a figure that has positioned herself perfectly for a hug.
You lunge forward, arms spread, and catch Hitomi in your embrace.
And then you both trip and fall down, having not stopped running the entire time.
"Sayaka! Hitomi! What are you doing?!"
Apparently, Hitomi yelling was enough to get her mother's attention. It occurs to you that your hug probably looked like you were tackling Hitomi from an outside perspective. Before you can try to protest the misinterpretation, however, you feel a small fist bury itself in your gut.
"YOU DUMMY!" yells Hitomi as you double over in pain. "BUTTFACE! PEEHEAD! BAD DRAWING PERSON!" Hitomi punctuates each insult with another punch. You idly note that Hitomi somehow knows how to throw a punch. Has she been in fights before?
Fortunately, it's about that time that Mrs. Shizuki separates the two of you. You spend the rest of the babysitting session in time out, and when you leave, you catch Hitomi glaring at you.
Fortunately, preparation has always been one of your strengths. It takes some time and effort, but the next time you find yourself being watched by the Shizukis, you have a secret weapon ready: a bag of M&Ms. Hitomi's ire is quickly forgotten.
And that was how you made your first friend.
[] First word.
[] Arts and Crafts and Secret Fight Club.
[] Kindergarten.
[] A violin performance.
[] A religious awakening.
[] Transfer Student.
[] Something else? {Write-in}
Unfortunately, your focus on developing your physical abilities over your social graces bites you in the ass as your feet win that race, and you find yourself caught up with Hitomi with no idea on what to do. But then, socialization has never been your greatest strength, even before your rebirth.
For a few moments, you simply hold pace with her as you puzzle out your next step. Then Hitomi notices you.
"NO!" she yells, turning to face you. "GO AWAY!"
Fortunately, you've always been decent at improvising. Where others would see an angry toddler demanding to be left alone, you see a figure that has positioned herself perfectly for a hug.
You lunge forward, arms spread, and catch Hitomi in your embrace.
And then you both trip and fall down, having not stopped running the entire time.
"Sayaka! Hitomi! What are you doing?!"
Apparently, Hitomi yelling was enough to get her mother's attention. It occurs to you that your hug probably looked like you were tackling Hitomi from an outside perspective. Before you can try to protest the misinterpretation, however, you feel a small fist bury itself in your gut.
"YOU DUMMY!" yells Hitomi as you double over in pain. "BUTTFACE! PEEHEAD! BAD DRAWING PERSON!" Hitomi punctuates each insult with another punch. You idly note that Hitomi somehow knows how to throw a punch. Has she been in fights before?
Fortunately, it's about that time that Mrs. Shizuki separates the two of you. You spend the rest of the babysitting session in time out, and when you leave, you catch Hitomi glaring at you.
Fortunately, preparation has always been one of your strengths. It takes some time and effort, but the next time you find yourself being watched by the Shizukis, you have a secret weapon ready: a bag of M&Ms. Hitomi's ire is quickly forgotten.
And that was how you made your first friend.
[] First word.
[] Arts and Crafts and Secret Fight Club.
[] Kindergarten.
[] A violin performance.
[] A religious awakening.
[] Transfer Student.
[] Something else? {Write-in}