Erin Ptah (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ptahrrific) wrote2012-12-09 08:26 pm
ptahrrific) wrote2012-12-09 08:26 pm
Entry tags:
Madoka Magica | Homura, Madoka, Sayaka | PG-13 | Persephone's Waltz (8)
Title: Persephone's Waltz, Chapter 8: Kyuubei says she's 'anomalous'...whatever that means.
Characters/Pairings: Homura, Madoka, Sayaka
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer/Warnings: See table of contents.
In which Sayaka adjusts to imprisonment, fills Madoka in on some of the events she's missed over the past couple weeks, talks about Mami, and meets Homura in a new light.
***
April 6
(Continued)
Sayaka refused to let Madoka use the shower until she had checked every inch of the room for cameras.
It was sore work. The fall had left the backs of her calves banged-up and one of her ankles sporting a sharp new pain: not as bad as when she'd wrenched it in first-year softball and ended up in a cast for a month, but bad enough to feel it every time she stood on tiptoe. At least her socks were long enough to cover any bruising that might have worried her friend.
Sayaka wouldn't forgive herself if she did anything to make Madoka's life harder now.
The fixtures in here seemed old, the pipes lacy with rust and the tub's pale ceramic chipped in corners. So the kidnapper had bought pretty things for the sleeping room, but hadn't taken the time to fix up washroom. That was a good sign. If Madoka's baths were being taped, the thing probably would have been better furnished.
(The wall of high-tech screens in the window display lit up with a news report, flashing cropped photos from Madoka's Facebook page in a dozen different resolutions and aspect ratios. Sayaka recognized her hand on Madoka's shoulder in one, Hitomi's leg in another.
"Not bad," said some university-age passerby to another. "I bet whoever's got her is taking some cute pictures of his own."
It took a manager, the man in a sandwich board with the store logo, and two waitresses from the café next door to pull Sayaka off him.)
She checked thoroughly anyway, just to be safe, then waved Madoka (now hopping on her toes in agitation...apparently she'd needed the toilet too) into the tiled room. Once the water started, she sat cross-legged on the rug to peel down her sock.
Nothing looked swollen. It wasn't even bruised yet. Sayaka tugged the navy knit back up to her knee and settled into picking through the first aid kit: gauze, an array of smaller bandages, a big Ace bandage, a sample-size tube of lotion, cotton swabs. No painkillers, and the bottle of antiseptic was almost empty, but there was a lot to work with. She felt almost hopeful.
***
Sayaka was on her knees poking through the mini-fridge for ice when Madoka's voice startled her to attention: "S-Sayaka-chan? Will you, um...will you bring me some clean clothes?"
"Of course!" Sayaka shoved the fridge closed and went to the wardrobe, rubbing her hands to warm them back up. "What do you feel like wearing?"
"Anything is okay. As long as it's clean. I'm sorry, I forgot you'd be out there!"
Sayaka picked out a dark grey shirt sewn with a delicate pattern of pink and violet flowers, a matching pink skirt, a pair of blue socks, and blue hair ribbons to match. Then, with some embarrassment, she added a white bra and blue panties. That someone had had the nerve to pick such things out for Madoka...imagining it made her teeth grind.
The first aid stuff had been shoved back under the bed by the time Madoka stumbled out, a towel over her shoulders to catch the drips from her loose water-darkened hair. As if waiting for its cue, her stomach growled; she blushed. "Dinnertime, I guess. D-do you want something to eat?"
"I'm fine!" said Sayaka promptly. "A puella magi runs on inner strength."
Madoka gave her a disconcerting look. "R-really?"
"Geez, Mado-tan, I'm kidding! I'm still human, after all. I mean that I'm tough enough to handle it. You don't have to worry about me using up your food....Unless it might be drugged? It's probably safer to let me test it, then."
"It won't be. I mean, it's been safe so far." Madoka shifted from foot to foot on the carpet. "When we eat together, they always eat first to prove it."
Sayaka's lip curled. "You let that person eat with you?"
Madoka cringed. "I didn't want to starve!"
Again, Sayaka caught herself. "You're right. It's none of — I'm sure you held out as long as you could."
"I'm going to make a sandwich," said Madoka, changing the subject. She made for the cupboard without meeting Sayaka's eyes. "You should have one too if you're hungry."
There was something weird going on here, but Sayaka was distracted from pursuing it when she saw what Madoka was getting out. "Do you have more of those?"
"More bread?" Madoka held up the bag of sliced whole grain. "This is the last bag, but we'll get more if it runs out...."
"No! More knives!"
"It's just plastic," said Madoka uncertainly, blinking at the white butter knife. "But yes, there are a couple extras. Here."
The instant Sayaka's fingers closed around the stubby handle, a flood of memories hit. How it energized her whole body to draw enchanted blades out of thin air and feel the way her gloves molded to the grips. How even the lonely, uncertain Mami had glowed with hope when Sayaka greeted her in uniform at the edge of the class-representative witch's barrier. How she had turned the silver ring on her finger and felt in her bones that the wish was beginning to work.
She'd only been in one proper battle before she came looking for Madoka, but that was more than enough to know how right it all felt.
For a moment she tried to channel her energy the way Mami had done...
("Can you feel it?" said the veteran puella magi. "This is the edge of the rose witch's barrier."
Sayaka's skin crawled as bits of reality twisted and darkened around them. "I'm ready!" she said too-loudly, brandishing her bat. What if this was the thing that had killed Madoka? Shouldn't she contract as soon as possible, to have a better chance of killing it?
"Here." Not yet transformed herself, Mami squeezed the bat. It warped in its own way under her grip, becoming not dark, but silver and jewel-studded, making Sayaka think of cold iron and enchanted hoards. "This will make it stronger for you.")
...but plastic stayed plastic, flimsy and feeble.
"Sayaka-chan...?"
"I guess you don't have anything tougher, huh?" said Sayaka. When Madoka shook her head, she added, "It's okay! If I'm careful, I bet this'll be enough to unscrew the heating grate."
***
Madoka did tempt her to food eventually. The half-eaten chocolate cake was too luscious to resist.
There was something Mami-like in her bearing while cutting it (not the Mami who slaughtered the dessert witch in a cavern of icing and sprinkles, but the Mami who cut slices of strawberry cheesecake after), and Sayaka said so. It didn't hurt that her hair, dried but not yet pulled into severe twintails, hung in soft waves around her face.
"What kind of person is Tomoe-san?" asked Madoka, intrigued. She licked crumbs from her bottom lip and amended, "I know she's a cool onee-sama, and someone who makes good cake, but you probably don't mean I'm like that."
"Well...she works hard to be kind to people. And she's very gentle." Sayaka grinned, sitting back on her heels as she remembered. "Except witches. She looks so tough when she's fighting them, like a shounen action hero. She pulls these silver muskets out of thin air, sometimes a hundred at a time! And for her finishing move...." To be honest, Sayaka thought it was a bit show-offy, but with powers like that, who could blame her? "She creates one that's bigger than a car, and yells, Tiro Finale!"
Madoka took a sip of water. Her eyes sparkled over the rim of the cup. "What does that mean?"
"She...didn't tell me," admitted Sayaka. "I fought my first witch yesterday, and didn't yell anything...."
("Hitomi! Snap out of it!")
"...to attack, so it's not like you need to." She squeezed the knife, or at least its largest remaining piece: the end of the blade had snapped off three times as she worked at the first tiny screw. "I guess she just thinks it sounds cool."
"Is she, um...." Madoka pulled at one of the loose purple threads on her shirt. "Do you think she's strong?"
"Well, not as strong as me, obviously," said Sayaka, kidding (mostly). "Of course she's strong! And she's been a puella magi for a couple years now, so she really knows what she's doing." A thought struck her, the question Madoka might really be working toward. "She'll definitely come find us. If I don't get you out of here first, that is."
Madoka offered her a faltering smile.
Sayaka tried not to see it as a poor cover for all the criticism Madoka was surely holding back. Why didn't you bring her with you? Or at least tell her where you were going? Why didn't you tell the police? Why did you run headlong into danger, so sure it wouldn't be guarded by anything a puella magi couldn't handle, so unprepared to be locked up with nothing more than a plastic knife and a whole lot of fancy, empty words?
"And what about...." The stammered question made Sayaka go tense, the throbbing in her ankle suddenly sharpened, until it turned out not to be about her at all: "...Tomoe-san's rival? What's that person like?"
Confusion distracted Sayaka from her own failures. "Her what?"
"Her...doesn't she have a rival? I-I mean, magical girls usually do...."
Of course. Even though Sayaka had explained to her about the grotesqueness of witches in their barriers, and the constant effort in seeking out their traces, all with no mention of pink sparkly wands, Madoka still wouldn't really get it until she'd seen for herself. "This isn't like TV magical girls. There's one other in Mitakihara, but we haven't even seen her. Kyuubei says she's 'anomalous'...whatever that means. And there was one who worked with Mami a while ago, but that girl moved, so she's been alone ever since."
"Until now," put in Madoka.
"Until now," Sayaka echoed. "At least, as long as we don't give up! I'm energized by cake and ready to get back to that grate."
***
Sayaka wasn't tired in the least. She could have stayed up all night if necessary. When Madoka confessed that the late hour was getting to her, Sayaka urged her to sleep without guilt.
"I'll work on this more quietly, I promise," she said. The butter knife's blade had snapped several times shorter in the process, but the top right screw had come loose, and the top left one was getting there. "If you need the light off, I can work with the bathroom light. I'll leave the door open a crack."
"I-it's not that. I've been sleeping with the lights on," admitted Madoka.
"Then there's no problem!" Sayaka threw a look over her shoulder at her friend, who had laid out the bedroll and was now standing awkwardly between it and the mattress. "Sleeping in your clothes? That's a good idea. If our big break comes in the middle of the night, you don't want to end up running across Mitakihara in your pajamas."
"I...I guess." Madoka squeezed the tummy of the stuffed panda in her arms.
(Sayaka had a brief but immersive vision of tearing it away from her, then offering something to cuddle that wasn't a kidnapper's consolation gift.)
"I usually put music on, too. Something calming, not too energetic. Is that all right?"
"Hm?" Sayaka shrugged the trace fibers of the vision away. "Oh, yes, that's great! Whatever you want is fine."
***
April 7
Thursday
...and she was awake.
Cold hard stone propped her up; her head was pillowed on her elbow, neck screaming in protest when she tried to lift it.
There was a blanket tucked over her....
(Half-asleep, pulling her limbs in closer against the cold, vague impressions of the bare floor slipping seamlessly into vague dreams of bare rocks by the sea...Madoka's footsteps, soft hands wrapping warmth around her, letting her fade back to blissful oblivion.)
"Mado...ka...?"
"Sayaka-chan? Are you awake?"
"You...." Her muscles were sluggish, her brain still fogged. "You let me...sleep. What if...they'd come? Did they?"
"Forty-three minutes to go," said Madoka. "You can rest longer, if you want. I'll wake you when it's time."
"No," mumbled Sayaka, wrestling with her body to make it sit up. "I'm fine. I'm ready. Always ready."
So much to do. Had to pop back in the screws...kidnapper couldn't be tipped off that they were loose. Had to...hide?...the knife. Under the mattress? In her sleeve? Could try to stab the guy...but he'd gotten the best of her before...better to hold back? Dammit, she'd made plans for this. Just had to remember what they were. (And then throw out the parts she'd come up with while already half-asleep. The plan to hide the flamethrower behind the turtle, for instance, had a few small reality-based flaws.)
Sayaka dragged herself into the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and stuck her whole head under the water.
It was a start.
***
The butter knife ended up stashed in her sock. It wasn't at the most convenient angle, and she hadn't had time to practice quick-drawing it or anything, but that was okay, because she was also armed with an oversized plate.
She waited on the second step from the top, weapon raised, Madoka watching from the landing. The pillowcase was slung over Madoka's shoulder, weighted down with the first aid kit, a bottle of fresh water, and (because it would make her feel better, and it didn't weigh that much) the stupid panda.
On second thought, maybe they should have used the pillowcase as the weapon, filling it with the heaviest items findable? No, it was too late to rewrite the strategy now. And the ability to make a quick getaway was essential.
Sayaka flashed a thumbs-up and a grin. Madoka gave her a weak smile in return. She still didn't seem confident about this plan. Well, she'd feel better once Sayaka had bashed this guy over the head.
How long now? Two minutes? Three? Five? If only she'd brought the wall clock. Hung at the foot of the staircase, it could have told her exactly when to start getting tense.
"Miki Sayaka. Please step away from the door."
The sound of her name less than a meter from her ear made Sayaka blow her cover completely. She yelped, she stumbled, it was a minor miracle she didn't drop the plate.
"Sayaka-chan!" This time her name was a relief, giving her something other than shock to focus on. "It's okay. Come down. The door won't open unless you're down here."
Ears burning, Sayaka took the steps two solemn thuds at a time. So it hadn't worked. There was a camera she'd missed, or the kidnapper was indeed magic-related with prescience or X-ray vision, or...no wonder Madoka hadn't been enthusiastic, she'd known all along...well, Sayaka would just have to regroup and try again, harder next time....
She waited in the basement bedroom, hands trembling around the chocolate smears on her plate. Madoka had put the pillowcase down, but stood gallantly at attention by her side.
The tread on the stairs was awfully light.
The new arrival rounded the stairs, and Sayaka's mouth dropped open. That long and silky hair. That flawless pale skin. Those amethyst eyes, unmistakable even without their trademark glasses. A streamlined uniform hugged her figure; a black plastic garbage bag was slung over her shoulder; a purple jewel in a gold setting shone on the back of her hand.
"Akemi-san! You contracted!" Sayaka grabbed Madoka into a bear hug. "We're saved, Mado-chan! Transfer student to the rescue!"
"Ah, um, Sayaka-chan...."
Letting her go, Sayaka whirled back to the transfer student. "We have to look for my soul gem before we get out of here. It won't take long, don't worry. You see, I —"
"Kaname Madoka." Akemi talked right through her. "Did you sleep well last night?"
"I...guess," said Madoka. "No worse than usual."
"Good." Akemi tossed the garbage bag onto the floor between them. "Clothing for a taller person. A couple of magazines. And your schoolwork, as usual."
It clicked.
"Oh, fuck you," hissed Sayaka.
"Sayaka-chan!" cried Madoka, scandalized. Akemi didn't even blink.
"I'm right, aren't I? You're the kidnapper! And I bet you're Kyuubei's anomaly, too!"
That at least sparked a flash of emotion. "I am not Kyuubei's anything."
With a snarl of fury Sayaka leaped.
The room did a jump-cut around her, and she landed with a thump on the mattress.
Madoka's squeak of fright kept Sayaka's priorities in order. She was still in the same room, Akemi was still between them and the door, and it was her first and foremost duty to take out Akemi. She threw herself off the bed, landing on her feet with a grace that would have been a point of pride if she'd been paying enough attention to mark it, and tensed to move again and what the hell was that a gun? Where would a middle schooler get a —
Click.
Sayaka didn't think. She didn't charge. She just skidded to a stand between Akemi and Madoka, chest heaving, arms flung out. "Don't you dare."
"I will not hurt Kaname Madoka. I have no wish to hurt you either, Miki Sayaka. Do not force my hand."
"You won't hurt her?" spat Sayaka. "What do you call kidnapping her and locking her up for two weeks, huh? Are you pointing a damn handgun at her for her health?"
"The prison is to keep her out of harm's way," said Akemi flatly. "And the gun is only here because you are."
Birdlike hands tugged at the back of her shirt. "Saya-chan, please — she never had a gun before, and she hasn't hurt me, I swear —"
"She cried!" shouted Sayaka. "Did she tell you that? When we found out she was the last person to see you before you disappeared, I yelled at her for not paying enough attention, and she started crying! I got in trouble for bullying her!"
Madoka fell silent. Sayaka did the same, quaking with restrained fury. Bitter tears swam in the corners of her eyes.
"Whether your life is fair, Miki Sayaka, is not my concern." This Akemi, the real Akemi, was so cold. Like a monster; like a corpse. "You will be supplied with food and other necessities. When Walpurgis Night has passed, you will be released. In the meantime, you will be kept from jeopardizing the safety of Kaname Madoka by whatever means are necessary."
(High on the rush of victory, Sayaka shepherded the box witch's dazed victims out into the fresh night air. A cool breeze kicked up at just the right moment, wafting away the fumes that clung to their hair and clothing. She found Hitomi and embraced her, still in full puella magi uniform, taking the chance that her friend wasn't lucid enough to remember anything suspicious.
In the middle of the triumph, Mami touched her soul gem, frowned, and doubled back into the toxic warehouse.
She re-emerged a minute later, half-leading, half-carrying a glassy-eyed university student. "And this is why you always double-check," she explained to Sayaka. "It's easy to miss people with a group this large. We don't run across them often, though, and you did remarkably well for your first fight, so don't feel bad about it."
The student still had a black eye from when Sayaka had slugged him earlier.
"I don't feel bad at all," she lied.)
Sayaka's skin crawled. If a witch took human form, Akemi's were the eyes it would have. "You're inhuman."
"And you," said Akemi, as if this were far worse, "are an arrogant fool."
"Akemi-san, stop it!" cried Madoka.
Akemi...nodded. Once. Slowly.
"Let us hope tomorrow goes better," she said, and her body and the gun vanished without a whisper.
Characters/Pairings: Homura, Madoka, Sayaka
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer/Warnings: See table of contents.
In which Sayaka adjusts to imprisonment, fills Madoka in on some of the events she's missed over the past couple weeks, talks about Mami, and meets Homura in a new light.
***
April 6
(Continued)
Sayaka refused to let Madoka use the shower until she had checked every inch of the room for cameras.
It was sore work. The fall had left the backs of her calves banged-up and one of her ankles sporting a sharp new pain: not as bad as when she'd wrenched it in first-year softball and ended up in a cast for a month, but bad enough to feel it every time she stood on tiptoe. At least her socks were long enough to cover any bruising that might have worried her friend.
Sayaka wouldn't forgive herself if she did anything to make Madoka's life harder now.
The fixtures in here seemed old, the pipes lacy with rust and the tub's pale ceramic chipped in corners. So the kidnapper had bought pretty things for the sleeping room, but hadn't taken the time to fix up washroom. That was a good sign. If Madoka's baths were being taped, the thing probably would have been better furnished.
(The wall of high-tech screens in the window display lit up with a news report, flashing cropped photos from Madoka's Facebook page in a dozen different resolutions and aspect ratios. Sayaka recognized her hand on Madoka's shoulder in one, Hitomi's leg in another.
"Not bad," said some university-age passerby to another. "I bet whoever's got her is taking some cute pictures of his own."
It took a manager, the man in a sandwich board with the store logo, and two waitresses from the café next door to pull Sayaka off him.)
She checked thoroughly anyway, just to be safe, then waved Madoka (now hopping on her toes in agitation...apparently she'd needed the toilet too) into the tiled room. Once the water started, she sat cross-legged on the rug to peel down her sock.
Nothing looked swollen. It wasn't even bruised yet. Sayaka tugged the navy knit back up to her knee and settled into picking through the first aid kit: gauze, an array of smaller bandages, a big Ace bandage, a sample-size tube of lotion, cotton swabs. No painkillers, and the bottle of antiseptic was almost empty, but there was a lot to work with. She felt almost hopeful.
***
Sayaka was on her knees poking through the mini-fridge for ice when Madoka's voice startled her to attention: "S-Sayaka-chan? Will you, um...will you bring me some clean clothes?"
"Of course!" Sayaka shoved the fridge closed and went to the wardrobe, rubbing her hands to warm them back up. "What do you feel like wearing?"
"Anything is okay. As long as it's clean. I'm sorry, I forgot you'd be out there!"
Sayaka picked out a dark grey shirt sewn with a delicate pattern of pink and violet flowers, a matching pink skirt, a pair of blue socks, and blue hair ribbons to match. Then, with some embarrassment, she added a white bra and blue panties. That someone had had the nerve to pick such things out for Madoka...imagining it made her teeth grind.
The first aid stuff had been shoved back under the bed by the time Madoka stumbled out, a towel over her shoulders to catch the drips from her loose water-darkened hair. As if waiting for its cue, her stomach growled; she blushed. "Dinnertime, I guess. D-do you want something to eat?"
"I'm fine!" said Sayaka promptly. "A puella magi runs on inner strength."
Madoka gave her a disconcerting look. "R-really?"
"Geez, Mado-tan, I'm kidding! I'm still human, after all. I mean that I'm tough enough to handle it. You don't have to worry about me using up your food....Unless it might be drugged? It's probably safer to let me test it, then."
"It won't be. I mean, it's been safe so far." Madoka shifted from foot to foot on the carpet. "When we eat together, they always eat first to prove it."
Sayaka's lip curled. "You let that person eat with you?"
Madoka cringed. "I didn't want to starve!"
Again, Sayaka caught herself. "You're right. It's none of — I'm sure you held out as long as you could."
"I'm going to make a sandwich," said Madoka, changing the subject. She made for the cupboard without meeting Sayaka's eyes. "You should have one too if you're hungry."
There was something weird going on here, but Sayaka was distracted from pursuing it when she saw what Madoka was getting out. "Do you have more of those?"
"More bread?" Madoka held up the bag of sliced whole grain. "This is the last bag, but we'll get more if it runs out...."
"No! More knives!"
"It's just plastic," said Madoka uncertainly, blinking at the white butter knife. "But yes, there are a couple extras. Here."
The instant Sayaka's fingers closed around the stubby handle, a flood of memories hit. How it energized her whole body to draw enchanted blades out of thin air and feel the way her gloves molded to the grips. How even the lonely, uncertain Mami had glowed with hope when Sayaka greeted her in uniform at the edge of the class-representative witch's barrier. How she had turned the silver ring on her finger and felt in her bones that the wish was beginning to work.
She'd only been in one proper battle before she came looking for Madoka, but that was more than enough to know how right it all felt.
For a moment she tried to channel her energy the way Mami had done...
("Can you feel it?" said the veteran puella magi. "This is the edge of the rose witch's barrier."
Sayaka's skin crawled as bits of reality twisted and darkened around them. "I'm ready!" she said too-loudly, brandishing her bat. What if this was the thing that had killed Madoka? Shouldn't she contract as soon as possible, to have a better chance of killing it?
"Here." Not yet transformed herself, Mami squeezed the bat. It warped in its own way under her grip, becoming not dark, but silver and jewel-studded, making Sayaka think of cold iron and enchanted hoards. "This will make it stronger for you.")
...but plastic stayed plastic, flimsy and feeble.
"Sayaka-chan...?"
"I guess you don't have anything tougher, huh?" said Sayaka. When Madoka shook her head, she added, "It's okay! If I'm careful, I bet this'll be enough to unscrew the heating grate."
***
Madoka did tempt her to food eventually. The half-eaten chocolate cake was too luscious to resist.
There was something Mami-like in her bearing while cutting it (not the Mami who slaughtered the dessert witch in a cavern of icing and sprinkles, but the Mami who cut slices of strawberry cheesecake after), and Sayaka said so. It didn't hurt that her hair, dried but not yet pulled into severe twintails, hung in soft waves around her face.
"What kind of person is Tomoe-san?" asked Madoka, intrigued. She licked crumbs from her bottom lip and amended, "I know she's a cool onee-sama, and someone who makes good cake, but you probably don't mean I'm like that."
"Well...she works hard to be kind to people. And she's very gentle." Sayaka grinned, sitting back on her heels as she remembered. "Except witches. She looks so tough when she's fighting them, like a shounen action hero. She pulls these silver muskets out of thin air, sometimes a hundred at a time! And for her finishing move...." To be honest, Sayaka thought it was a bit show-offy, but with powers like that, who could blame her? "She creates one that's bigger than a car, and yells, Tiro Finale!"
Madoka took a sip of water. Her eyes sparkled over the rim of the cup. "What does that mean?"
"She...didn't tell me," admitted Sayaka. "I fought my first witch yesterday, and didn't yell anything...."
("Hitomi! Snap out of it!")
"...to attack, so it's not like you need to." She squeezed the knife, or at least its largest remaining piece: the end of the blade had snapped off three times as she worked at the first tiny screw. "I guess she just thinks it sounds cool."
"Is she, um...." Madoka pulled at one of the loose purple threads on her shirt. "Do you think she's strong?"
"Well, not as strong as me, obviously," said Sayaka, kidding (mostly). "Of course she's strong! And she's been a puella magi for a couple years now, so she really knows what she's doing." A thought struck her, the question Madoka might really be working toward. "She'll definitely come find us. If I don't get you out of here first, that is."
Madoka offered her a faltering smile.
Sayaka tried not to see it as a poor cover for all the criticism Madoka was surely holding back. Why didn't you bring her with you? Or at least tell her where you were going? Why didn't you tell the police? Why did you run headlong into danger, so sure it wouldn't be guarded by anything a puella magi couldn't handle, so unprepared to be locked up with nothing more than a plastic knife and a whole lot of fancy, empty words?
"And what about...." The stammered question made Sayaka go tense, the throbbing in her ankle suddenly sharpened, until it turned out not to be about her at all: "...Tomoe-san's rival? What's that person like?"
Confusion distracted Sayaka from her own failures. "Her what?"
"Her...doesn't she have a rival? I-I mean, magical girls usually do...."
Of course. Even though Sayaka had explained to her about the grotesqueness of witches in their barriers, and the constant effort in seeking out their traces, all with no mention of pink sparkly wands, Madoka still wouldn't really get it until she'd seen for herself. "This isn't like TV magical girls. There's one other in Mitakihara, but we haven't even seen her. Kyuubei says she's 'anomalous'...whatever that means. And there was one who worked with Mami a while ago, but that girl moved, so she's been alone ever since."
"Until now," put in Madoka.
"Until now," Sayaka echoed. "At least, as long as we don't give up! I'm energized by cake and ready to get back to that grate."
***
Sayaka wasn't tired in the least. She could have stayed up all night if necessary. When Madoka confessed that the late hour was getting to her, Sayaka urged her to sleep without guilt.
"I'll work on this more quietly, I promise," she said. The butter knife's blade had snapped several times shorter in the process, but the top right screw had come loose, and the top left one was getting there. "If you need the light off, I can work with the bathroom light. I'll leave the door open a crack."
"I-it's not that. I've been sleeping with the lights on," admitted Madoka.
"Then there's no problem!" Sayaka threw a look over her shoulder at her friend, who had laid out the bedroll and was now standing awkwardly between it and the mattress. "Sleeping in your clothes? That's a good idea. If our big break comes in the middle of the night, you don't want to end up running across Mitakihara in your pajamas."
"I...I guess." Madoka squeezed the tummy of the stuffed panda in her arms.
(Sayaka had a brief but immersive vision of tearing it away from her, then offering something to cuddle that wasn't a kidnapper's consolation gift.)
"I usually put music on, too. Something calming, not too energetic. Is that all right?"
"Hm?" Sayaka shrugged the trace fibers of the vision away. "Oh, yes, that's great! Whatever you want is fine."
***
April 7
Thursday
...and she was awake.
Cold hard stone propped her up; her head was pillowed on her elbow, neck screaming in protest when she tried to lift it.
There was a blanket tucked over her....
(Half-asleep, pulling her limbs in closer against the cold, vague impressions of the bare floor slipping seamlessly into vague dreams of bare rocks by the sea...Madoka's footsteps, soft hands wrapping warmth around her, letting her fade back to blissful oblivion.)
"Mado...ka...?"
"Sayaka-chan? Are you awake?"
"You...." Her muscles were sluggish, her brain still fogged. "You let me...sleep. What if...they'd come? Did they?"
"Forty-three minutes to go," said Madoka. "You can rest longer, if you want. I'll wake you when it's time."
"No," mumbled Sayaka, wrestling with her body to make it sit up. "I'm fine. I'm ready. Always ready."
So much to do. Had to pop back in the screws...kidnapper couldn't be tipped off that they were loose. Had to...hide?...the knife. Under the mattress? In her sleeve? Could try to stab the guy...but he'd gotten the best of her before...better to hold back? Dammit, she'd made plans for this. Just had to remember what they were. (And then throw out the parts she'd come up with while already half-asleep. The plan to hide the flamethrower behind the turtle, for instance, had a few small reality-based flaws.)
Sayaka dragged herself into the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and stuck her whole head under the water.
It was a start.
***
The butter knife ended up stashed in her sock. It wasn't at the most convenient angle, and she hadn't had time to practice quick-drawing it or anything, but that was okay, because she was also armed with an oversized plate.
She waited on the second step from the top, weapon raised, Madoka watching from the landing. The pillowcase was slung over Madoka's shoulder, weighted down with the first aid kit, a bottle of fresh water, and (because it would make her feel better, and it didn't weigh that much) the stupid panda.
On second thought, maybe they should have used the pillowcase as the weapon, filling it with the heaviest items findable? No, it was too late to rewrite the strategy now. And the ability to make a quick getaway was essential.
Sayaka flashed a thumbs-up and a grin. Madoka gave her a weak smile in return. She still didn't seem confident about this plan. Well, she'd feel better once Sayaka had bashed this guy over the head.
How long now? Two minutes? Three? Five? If only she'd brought the wall clock. Hung at the foot of the staircase, it could have told her exactly when to start getting tense.
"Miki Sayaka. Please step away from the door."
The sound of her name less than a meter from her ear made Sayaka blow her cover completely. She yelped, she stumbled, it was a minor miracle she didn't drop the plate.
"Sayaka-chan!" This time her name was a relief, giving her something other than shock to focus on. "It's okay. Come down. The door won't open unless you're down here."
Ears burning, Sayaka took the steps two solemn thuds at a time. So it hadn't worked. There was a camera she'd missed, or the kidnapper was indeed magic-related with prescience or X-ray vision, or...no wonder Madoka hadn't been enthusiastic, she'd known all along...well, Sayaka would just have to regroup and try again, harder next time....
She waited in the basement bedroom, hands trembling around the chocolate smears on her plate. Madoka had put the pillowcase down, but stood gallantly at attention by her side.
The tread on the stairs was awfully light.
The new arrival rounded the stairs, and Sayaka's mouth dropped open. That long and silky hair. That flawless pale skin. Those amethyst eyes, unmistakable even without their trademark glasses. A streamlined uniform hugged her figure; a black plastic garbage bag was slung over her shoulder; a purple jewel in a gold setting shone on the back of her hand.
"Akemi-san! You contracted!" Sayaka grabbed Madoka into a bear hug. "We're saved, Mado-chan! Transfer student to the rescue!"
"Ah, um, Sayaka-chan...."
Letting her go, Sayaka whirled back to the transfer student. "We have to look for my soul gem before we get out of here. It won't take long, don't worry. You see, I —"
"Kaname Madoka." Akemi talked right through her. "Did you sleep well last night?"
"I...guess," said Madoka. "No worse than usual."
"Good." Akemi tossed the garbage bag onto the floor between them. "Clothing for a taller person. A couple of magazines. And your schoolwork, as usual."
It clicked.
"Oh, fuck you," hissed Sayaka.
"Sayaka-chan!" cried Madoka, scandalized. Akemi didn't even blink.
"I'm right, aren't I? You're the kidnapper! And I bet you're Kyuubei's anomaly, too!"
That at least sparked a flash of emotion. "I am not Kyuubei's anything."
With a snarl of fury Sayaka leaped.
The room did a jump-cut around her, and she landed with a thump on the mattress.
Madoka's squeak of fright kept Sayaka's priorities in order. She was still in the same room, Akemi was still between them and the door, and it was her first and foremost duty to take out Akemi. She threw herself off the bed, landing on her feet with a grace that would have been a point of pride if she'd been paying enough attention to mark it, and tensed to move again and what the hell was that a gun? Where would a middle schooler get a —
Click.
Sayaka didn't think. She didn't charge. She just skidded to a stand between Akemi and Madoka, chest heaving, arms flung out. "Don't you dare."
"I will not hurt Kaname Madoka. I have no wish to hurt you either, Miki Sayaka. Do not force my hand."
"You won't hurt her?" spat Sayaka. "What do you call kidnapping her and locking her up for two weeks, huh? Are you pointing a damn handgun at her for her health?"
"The prison is to keep her out of harm's way," said Akemi flatly. "And the gun is only here because you are."
Birdlike hands tugged at the back of her shirt. "Saya-chan, please — she never had a gun before, and she hasn't hurt me, I swear —"
"She cried!" shouted Sayaka. "Did she tell you that? When we found out she was the last person to see you before you disappeared, I yelled at her for not paying enough attention, and she started crying! I got in trouble for bullying her!"
Madoka fell silent. Sayaka did the same, quaking with restrained fury. Bitter tears swam in the corners of her eyes.
"Whether your life is fair, Miki Sayaka, is not my concern." This Akemi, the real Akemi, was so cold. Like a monster; like a corpse. "You will be supplied with food and other necessities. When Walpurgis Night has passed, you will be released. In the meantime, you will be kept from jeopardizing the safety of Kaname Madoka by whatever means are necessary."
(High on the rush of victory, Sayaka shepherded the box witch's dazed victims out into the fresh night air. A cool breeze kicked up at just the right moment, wafting away the fumes that clung to their hair and clothing. She found Hitomi and embraced her, still in full puella magi uniform, taking the chance that her friend wasn't lucid enough to remember anything suspicious.
In the middle of the triumph, Mami touched her soul gem, frowned, and doubled back into the toxic warehouse.
She re-emerged a minute later, half-leading, half-carrying a glassy-eyed university student. "And this is why you always double-check," she explained to Sayaka. "It's easy to miss people with a group this large. We don't run across them often, though, and you did remarkably well for your first fight, so don't feel bad about it."
The student still had a black eye from when Sayaka had slugged him earlier.
"I don't feel bad at all," she lied.)
Sayaka's skin crawled. If a witch took human form, Akemi's were the eyes it would have. "You're inhuman."
"And you," said Akemi, as if this were far worse, "are an arrogant fool."
"Akemi-san, stop it!" cried Madoka.
Akemi...nodded. Once. Slowly.
"Let us hope tomorrow goes better," she said, and her body and the gun vanished without a whisper.