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ptahrrificTitle: Persephone's Waltz, Chapter 10: Akemi's weak point is you.
Characters/Pairings: Homura, Madoka, Sayaka, (skip) MadoSaya, hints of Oktavia + Homulilly
Rating: R
Disclaimer/Warnings: See table of contents.
Sayaka slows down enough to do some observation and come up with a complex plan (and confront how she feels about Madoka along the way). This just might work, as long as Sayaka can be ruthless, Madoka can lie through her teeth, and Homura doesn't turn out to be more powerful (or more unstable) than anyone suspected.
***
April 15
Friday
Madoka should have realized something was different.
Sayaka was quiet from the moment she woke up. Intense as ever, but with very few words: no insistent perkiness, no determined escape plans. Madoka thought it meant she was finally adjusting. Or that she had decided to give herself a break for one day.
And if her gut instinct was that this wasn't like Sayaka, well, Madoka's judgment about people was off lately. She had put too much trust in Homura, or at least Homura's knowledge. And only the night before, she had thought...okay, it was embarrassing now, but in bed she had felt like Sayaka might try to...anyway, the point was, Sayaka hadn't, had she? All in Madoka's head.
Captivity made you lose perspective. It was science.
When Madoka did up her twintails (yellow ribbons, to match her socks), they came out uneven. She didn't bother trying to fix them. What was the point? Besides, Sayaka needed the bathroom.
***
A few minutes before Homura's scheduled arrival, Sayaka was actually looking through their math homework. Madoka, sitting back on the bed, was trying to draw while keeping an eye on the clock, but her gaze kept being drawn to the improbable sight.
When they heard the door open, Sayaka pushed back her chair and took her usual defensive place between Madoka and the bottom of the stairs. Homura stepped into view carrying two bowls of ramen, which she set on the top of the cupboard before shoveling the pile of trash and dirty dishes into her shield. She barely spared a glance for Sayaka, now standing on two un-bandaged feet, or Madoka, peering at her over the top of the notebook.
It was Sayaka who drew her attention. "Why Madoka?" she demanded, arms crossed.
Homura didn't answer.
"Hey, transfer student, I'm talking to you!" Sayaka was fiddling with the cuffs of her long sleeves, as if they didn't fit right. "Why is it so important to you that Madoka doesn't contract?"
"Maybe I don't want the competition," said Homura, without looking up.
"Bull. We were both potential magical girls when you transferred, but she's the only one you kidnapped. What makes her special?"
Madoka hugged herself, unsettled by the bite in her friend's voice. "Sayaka-chan, please...."
"You know, when you two first met, I thought you had a thing for her," continued Sayaka, unheeding. "Didn't know you were a liar and an actor then, obviously. But it's easiest to act when you're playing something close to the truth, isn't it? Even though you're both girls."
Madoka felt her face go red. What was Sayaka doing?
"Do you like having her down here? If she doesn't want you, at least she'll be all cute and helpless and at your mer— hey!"
Homura had vanished. Except for the ramen, there was no sign she had been there at all.
"Th-that was mean!" exclaimed Madoka. Her fingers pressed intently into the thinning pad of paper.
"Oh, like she doesn't deserve it?" demanded Sayaka. Something white flashed in her palm; she dropped it and kicked it hurriedly under the bed, grinning all the while.
"It doesn't matter! Even if she's been horrible, there's nothing wrong with..." She shivered. "You're not supposed to be like Hitomi-chan!"
"Madoka. It was an act. An act!" Sayaka bounced onto the bed, one hand splaying across Madoka's calf to steady herself. "Don't you get it? I was trying to upset her. To throw her off-balance. And it worked! Didn't you see the look on her face?"
"I...I don't understand."
"Everyone has a weak point." She squeezed Madoka's leg for emphasis. "Akemi's weak point is you. All we have to do now is use it."
When Madoka nodded, Sayaka began to outline her plan. Every time she leaned forward to emphasize a point, her hand scooted higher up Madoka's calf; wrapped up in her enthusiasm, she didn't seem to notice. She sounded absolutely certain of the details, and even to Madoka they made sense. As long as Madoka's acting skills were up to the job, this ploy just might work.
Sayaka was finally winding down when she looked with a start at her fingers, now a hairsbreadth from the hem of Madoka's dark gathered skirt. "Ah! Sorry," she stammered. "I guess I was over-excited...."
Before she could pull away, Madoka clapped her own palm on top of Sayaka's hand, holding it in place.
There was a moment when neither girl breathed.
"You don't need to say anything, Sayaka," said Madoka softly. She felt warm all over, not with embarrassment but with a delicious tingly feeling, particularly up and down the insides of her legs. "But...but if there was something you wanted to tell me...I think you should."
Sayaka swallowed hard, eyes locking on hers. "Did you ever read the stories about knights? In Camelot, with King Arthur?"
Madoka shook her head. "All I know are the parts you've talked about."
"Okay. Well. When these knights all go on their noble quests, it's in the name of the person they love. But it has to be a...a pure love, you know? They can't let themselves get distracted, or, or tainted — not that you're a taint or anything! — point is, they'll lose their focus, and won't be good enough anymore, and, and...."
...and she was babbling, they both knew it, desperately trying to bluff and bluster her way around...what?
Madoka bent towards her, moving to clasp her bare wrist. Sayaka's breath caught.
"The thing is." Madoka pulled on Sayaka's hand, shivering as the other girl's fingers twitched against her skin. "The thing is, I don't think that's right! I think, if I love you, and I do, I don't see why there's anything wrong with you being able to t-touch me!"
"Madoka...." breathed Sayaka, the name unfurling like a sigh.
Then, with exquisite hesitation, she slid her hand up under the edge of Madoka's skirt.
***
Every flutter of Madoka's lashes was a treasure, every tiny noise from her lips a revelation.
If I could keep just these parts of you locked in my heart forever...I think I'd be happy.
The first time she kissed Sayaka, their teeth scraped together and her squeak of surprise sent them both dissolving into giggles. Then they tried it again.
Was all of this...the wish, the contract, the fighting of witches, the raging against these four walls...was it really for some noble purpose? Or was it nothing more than a selfish bid to make you grateful enough to touch me like this?
By unspoken agreement their hands danced over only what bare skin they could reach. Up Madoka's legs to the jutting bones of her hips were encircled by a thin lace-colored strip of elastic, under Sayaka's shirt to trace the tops of plush silk-hugged curves: these were pushing the rules, not cheating.
I don't deserve you. No one deserves you. But I'll fight until I do, or die trying.
They fell asleep on the same bed again that night, in soft clean pajamas: Sayaka the biggest spoon, Madoka the middle one, and Panda-san the little spoon. Madoka's top hung loose around the neckline; Sayaka could see the pale soft expanse of her shoulder, the dusting of freckles that led down the tops of her teacup breasts before the stuffed panda's head crushed the fabric too close to peer farther.
I love you, Sayaka thought fiercely. I love you so much.
And she slipped into murky dreams, full of dark fumes and glassy-eyed zombies with bruised faces, each blue swelling marked with a witch's-kiss: two bars of nonsense notes in three-quarter time.
***
April 16
Saturday
Sayaka lay sprawled on the futon, on top of the covers, hair falling over her eyes and one sock half-off. Her breathing was perfectly even. Just to drive the point home, she added a gentle snore.
"I don't think that helps," whispered Madoka. "M-maybe you should leave that out."
"Got it," hissed Sayaka in return. "How long do I have?"
"A minute and a half," said Madoka without looking at the clock. Sayaka had gotten into position ten minutes early, and asked for an ETA about as many times. With all the clock-watching Madoka had done these past few weeks, she could have counted the seconds blindfolded.
A few weeks. Three, plus a day. There were only two more rows of dates waiting to be crossed out on Madoka's hand-penciled calendar; Homura had probably calculated that by this point she would give up and decide to wait the last of it out. Without Sayaka there to help her, the calculation might even have been right.
She had to get out. To hug her parents and Tatsuya, to tell Hitomi and Kyousuke they were safe and well, to stand under the blue sky and fall into Sayaka's arms. She had to hold Sayaka's hand and say, Mama, I'm in love with a girl. And you don't have to worry about anything, because she's already taken such good care of me....
And to make all that happen, she had to stuff those recently-exploded feelings back in a box.
Hit with another round of nerves, Madoka adjusted her hair ribbons (blue today...had that been a too-revealing choice?) for the umpteenth time. Don't think about her hands under your shirt. Don't think about the burning where her lips touched your neck. Don't think about how much you love her when she's brilliant and strong and determined, how that ache in your heart is just as strong when she's angry and restless and hurting where she won't let you see....
"Thirty seconds," she whispered, and tiptoed to the corner of the room, the little square of floor space that stuck out past the wall to catch the base of the dark and hidden stairs.
She was waiting there with politely folded hands and toes turned inward when the door far above opened to a sliver of light, and Homura's heels clicked down the top few steps. "Kaname Madoka. Are you waiting for something?"
"S-sort of," said Madoka. "Please don't be too loud. Sayaka...Sayaka-chan's asleep again, and I want her to stay that way."
Homura tilted her head. Her violet eyes were glassy and expressionless; in the backlit gloom Madoka could make out what looked like fresh scars across one of her cheeks. "Is her presence becoming unwelcome? I will dispose of her if you like."
"Dispose...? Do you mean take her somewhere else?"
"I mean I will do to her what all people who hurt Kaname Madoka deserve."
"Don't be so mean!" hissed Madoka, voice unexpectedly breaking. "Even if she's been horrible to you, that doesn't give you the right to...to...!"
I don't have to pretend not to be in love with Sayaka, she realized in that moment. All I have to do is aim those feelings at Homura.
"I apologize," said Homura with a slight bow, and took a step backward.
"Don't go," begged Madoka. She would never pull this off if Homura didn't give her the chance. "Please don't go."
***
Holding still had never been Sayaka's strong suit. But if it was required of her as the knight and protector of her best friend, she could do anything.
Madoka's uncertain sock-footed steps padded backward into the main room, followed by Akemi's steady footfalls. Sayaka kept her eyes tight shut.
"Why do you always leave the door open?" asked Madoka. It was the line they had prepared, a hint meant for Sayaka without sounding obvious about it; but to Sayaka's ears it sounded false and calculated, a hard shift from the verge-of-tears she was supposed to be pulling herself off of. "That is, um, what would you do if it shut by accident? If there were a breeze, or a passing cat, or something?"
If Akemi felt any suspicion, she didn't show it. "It is too heavy to shut by accident."
"...oh. Okay."
"But if it were closed on purpose, I would explode it with a pipe bomb."
Madoka's voice went shaky. Sayaka could picture her face, the blood drained away, lashes fluttering. "That's very...um, impressive."
"I scare you," said Akemi.
There was a limit to how many lies Madoka could tell without expecting Akemi to see through her like a screen door. To Sayaka's relief, she didn't push it. "Y-yes. Sorry."
"Don't be. It would be strange if you weren't."
"Would it?" A soft sound, as of clasping hands; Sayaka heard someone's breath hitch, and could have sworn it wasn't Madoka's. Maybe the crazy bitch had feelings after all. "Even if you're dangerous, Akemi-san...it's to protect me, right? You wouldn't hurt me?"
Sayaka lifted her eyelids the tiniest fraction. As planned, Akemi's back was to her, and Madoka was clutching her hands while displaying irresistible sparkling wide doe-eyes. She was beautiful. Fragile, to look at her. Indescribably precious.
"Kaname Madoka..." For the first time, silver-tongued Akemi seemed lost for words. "There is too much you don't understand."
"I...I'm glad you're here," stammered Madoka. "Is that strange?"
"Yes," said Akemi. "You should far prefer Miki Sayaka's company to mine."
That, at least, she and Sayaka could agree on.
"It's nothing against Sayaka-chan!" insisted Madoka. "She's under a lot of stress right now, that's all. It doesn't mean she doesn't care about me! Once we get out, I'm sure she'll go back to normal! Akemi-san, please, tell me she's going to be okay? I d-don't know why, but it feels like I can rely on you...."
Noiselessly, while she was talking, Sayaka sat up. Her path was clear.
Madoka's eyes were much too shifty. After a glance that took in Sayaka, she solved the problem by bowing her head, using a shaky little hiccup to jolt that much closer to Akemi. "I'm s-sorry, you might not want someone like me clinging to you, when all I've done is cause you trouble and make you go to all this effort...."
"Trouble," echoed Akemi. "You have no idea how much trouble, Kaname Madoka...."
Her dark hair shifted as her own head dipped to touch Madoka's.
In her long and neatly-cuffed sleeves, Sayaka's hand twitched just so.
She had told Madoka the plan was to keep Akemi distracted while Sayaka ran for the door. As if that weren't doomed to fail. The steel door was only the first hurdle to clear; Sayaka would have to find her Soul Gem, find a phone, maybe find a series of hiding places, all while avoiding recapture. Even if Madoka could buy her an insane amount of time before Akemi noticed the prison's missing tenant, the basic plan still involved Sayaka abandoning her to be touched and pawed at for the duration. And if Sayaka did escape, Madoka would doubtless be hauled off to an emergency backup cell, to suffer who knew what before Sayaka, Mami, and the police tracked her down again....
"You never listen," continued Akemi, an unstable lilt rocking her otherwise emotionless voice. "I tell you to stay put and you don't. I tell you not to wish and you ignore it. So much I've had to do to you, Kaname Madoka, because you couldn't leave well enough alone...But it's okay now. You're going to be safe whether you want to or not...."
Most importantly, Sayaka couldn't run now because Akemi was fucking crazy.
"I—" began Madoka, then shrieked as Akemi was yanked away from her, Sayaka leaping onto the lunatic's back and jabbing with the first of her self-sharpened knives. Once. Twice.
She hit a vein. Blood sprayed across Madoka's face. "Run!" yelled Sayaka.
Akemi thrashed and struggled, not screaming, barely making a sound except for the panicked clock-tick coming from her shield. Sayaka stabbed again. Her vision greyed at the edges in time with the clicking, and there was something wrong with the way Madoka was moving, but she had no time to pay attention to the particulars. Not yet.
The red-stained plastic tip snapped off in Akemi's throat. Sayaka slipped the second knife into her hand and stabbed again. Her fist was slippery with blood, her sleeves soaked in it. Again. Again.
Akemi sagged, dead weight in her arms. The clicking stopped.
"I told you to run!" shouted Sayaka again, driving the second knife into Akemi's jugular to leave it there. The third and final one could stay in her sleeve as insurance, until she had her real swords again. "Go!"
Madoka was frozen, horrified, staring down at the body as Sayaka let it fall in a bloodstained heap to the ground. She didn't move until Sayaka grabbed her arm and yanked.
"You—" Madoka choked on the words; Sayaka didn't care what she said or not as long as she kept moving up the stairs. "You killed—"
I know where my Soul Gem is! thought Sayaka with dizzy elation. Out loud, she added, "I know where a phone is!"
That shut Madoka up long enough for them to burst across the impossible threshold and out into a ground-floor corridor, bathed in sunset light.
***
At first Madoka couldn't understand why the walls of the corridor, and of the compact sitting room beyond it, were painted in such a brilliant spectrum of oranges and reds.
Then her eyes remembered how to see in light that wasn't the steady fluorescent of the cell, and she almost cried at the sight.
"There's a phone," repeated Sayaka, leading her across the bare pine floor. "Upstairs. She must be charging it in her room. Come on!"
"You...could have gotten it," panted Madoka as Sayaka dragged her into a chipped kitchenette piled with dirty dishes and food stains, then stopped to grab a towel from the handle of the fridge. "That...that was the plan!"
"Plans change," said Sayaka briskly, tossing back her hair and scrubbing as much blood as she could off of her hands. She missed a lot. It was under her nails; it had soaked into blotches up her sleeves.
"You did change them...right?"
"You've got some on your face," Sayaka told her, folding the towel over. "Hold still."
And she tried to dab Madoka's cheeks, like it was nothing, like Papa wiping off the wasabi sauce when Tatsuya tried to eat. (Unless he's gotten neater while I've been away....)
"You killed her!" wailed Madoka, throwing herself backward. She would have tripped over something if there were any furniture in the barren nook to trip over. "That wasn't the plan, right Sayaka-chan? Tell me I wasn't helping you kill her!"
Sayaka's shell of normality cracked. "You weren't!" she snapped. "You didn't know. That makes it my fault. And if I had to, I'd do it all over again! Now do you want to have blood on your face when you call your mother, or not?"
Twin tears ran down Madoka's cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut and let Sayaka dab them away with the rest.
It wasn't...murder. Right? It was self-defense, or at least love-of-self's-defense. Even if she had never imagined Sayaka capable of...of....
She's under a lot of stress right now. Captivity makes you lose perspective. Once we get out, I'm sure she'll go back to normal.
The towel got thrown on the pile of dishes molding in the sink as Sayaka led her to the foot of another staircase: this one out in the open, built of white-painted planks, with soft carpet on every step and windows spilling light at the bottom and the top. Out the bottom window Madoka could see bushes, parked bicycles, streetlights, the ceramic tiles roofing the properties across the street. They were somewhere in the middle of an ordinary block of two-floor tenement houses, in what could have been the borders of Mitakihara or any other modern city in Japan.
When Sayaka grabbed the bannister, her fingers left dull red marks on the paint.
Shaking, Madoka took the first step to follow...
...and gravity flipped directions, so that she was facing the ceiling when she landed, head spinning, on something soft.
***
Sayaka nearly twisted her wrist as she crashed face-first into a none-too-pliant surface while her body was mid-step.
Even with the sudden swimming between her ears, she recognized the bedroll instantly.
(But the light was wrong. Dark, too dark, with strange bright spots, and noises like scratching and the rushing of sand....)
Fighting the headache and the dizziness, Sayaka forced herself up onto hands and knees. The familiar breathing from across the tiny cell turned out to be Madoka, flat on her back on the blankets with Panda-san sitting calm as you please above her twintails.
"Madoka-chan!" cried Sayaka, then choked at a metallic click right behind her.
(Echoed by a ringing like dissonant bells, along with the flowing sand and something that smelled of lilies....)
Madoka turned her head, and went tissue-white. "Akemi-san, no! Please!"
"Give me one good reason Kaname Madoka," hissed an impossible voice, dangerous and trembling and all in one breath.
Characters/Pairings: Homura, Madoka, Sayaka, (skip) MadoSaya, hints of Oktavia + Homulilly
Rating: R
Disclaimer/Warnings: See table of contents.
Sayaka slows down enough to do some observation and come up with a complex plan (and confront how she feels about Madoka along the way). This just might work, as long as Sayaka can be ruthless, Madoka can lie through her teeth, and Homura doesn't turn out to be more powerful (or more unstable) than anyone suspected.
***
April 15
Friday
Madoka should have realized something was different.
Sayaka was quiet from the moment she woke up. Intense as ever, but with very few words: no insistent perkiness, no determined escape plans. Madoka thought it meant she was finally adjusting. Or that she had decided to give herself a break for one day.
And if her gut instinct was that this wasn't like Sayaka, well, Madoka's judgment about people was off lately. She had put too much trust in Homura, or at least Homura's knowledge. And only the night before, she had thought...okay, it was embarrassing now, but in bed she had felt like Sayaka might try to...anyway, the point was, Sayaka hadn't, had she? All in Madoka's head.
Captivity made you lose perspective. It was science.
When Madoka did up her twintails (yellow ribbons, to match her socks), they came out uneven. She didn't bother trying to fix them. What was the point? Besides, Sayaka needed the bathroom.
***
A few minutes before Homura's scheduled arrival, Sayaka was actually looking through their math homework. Madoka, sitting back on the bed, was trying to draw while keeping an eye on the clock, but her gaze kept being drawn to the improbable sight.
When they heard the door open, Sayaka pushed back her chair and took her usual defensive place between Madoka and the bottom of the stairs. Homura stepped into view carrying two bowls of ramen, which she set on the top of the cupboard before shoveling the pile of trash and dirty dishes into her shield. She barely spared a glance for Sayaka, now standing on two un-bandaged feet, or Madoka, peering at her over the top of the notebook.
It was Sayaka who drew her attention. "Why Madoka?" she demanded, arms crossed.
Homura didn't answer.
"Hey, transfer student, I'm talking to you!" Sayaka was fiddling with the cuffs of her long sleeves, as if they didn't fit right. "Why is it so important to you that Madoka doesn't contract?"
"Maybe I don't want the competition," said Homura, without looking up.
"Bull. We were both potential magical girls when you transferred, but she's the only one you kidnapped. What makes her special?"
Madoka hugged herself, unsettled by the bite in her friend's voice. "Sayaka-chan, please...."
"You know, when you two first met, I thought you had a thing for her," continued Sayaka, unheeding. "Didn't know you were a liar and an actor then, obviously. But it's easiest to act when you're playing something close to the truth, isn't it? Even though you're both girls."
Madoka felt her face go red. What was Sayaka doing?
"Do you like having her down here? If she doesn't want you, at least she'll be all cute and helpless and at your mer— hey!"
Homura had vanished. Except for the ramen, there was no sign she had been there at all.
"Th-that was mean!" exclaimed Madoka. Her fingers pressed intently into the thinning pad of paper.
"Oh, like she doesn't deserve it?" demanded Sayaka. Something white flashed in her palm; she dropped it and kicked it hurriedly under the bed, grinning all the while.
"It doesn't matter! Even if she's been horrible, there's nothing wrong with..." She shivered. "You're not supposed to be like Hitomi-chan!"
"Madoka. It was an act. An act!" Sayaka bounced onto the bed, one hand splaying across Madoka's calf to steady herself. "Don't you get it? I was trying to upset her. To throw her off-balance. And it worked! Didn't you see the look on her face?"
"I...I don't understand."
"Everyone has a weak point." She squeezed Madoka's leg for emphasis. "Akemi's weak point is you. All we have to do now is use it."
When Madoka nodded, Sayaka began to outline her plan. Every time she leaned forward to emphasize a point, her hand scooted higher up Madoka's calf; wrapped up in her enthusiasm, she didn't seem to notice. She sounded absolutely certain of the details, and even to Madoka they made sense. As long as Madoka's acting skills were up to the job, this ploy just might work.
Sayaka was finally winding down when she looked with a start at her fingers, now a hairsbreadth from the hem of Madoka's dark gathered skirt. "Ah! Sorry," she stammered. "I guess I was over-excited...."
Before she could pull away, Madoka clapped her own palm on top of Sayaka's hand, holding it in place.
There was a moment when neither girl breathed.
"You don't need to say anything, Sayaka," said Madoka softly. She felt warm all over, not with embarrassment but with a delicious tingly feeling, particularly up and down the insides of her legs. "But...but if there was something you wanted to tell me...I think you should."
Sayaka swallowed hard, eyes locking on hers. "Did you ever read the stories about knights? In Camelot, with King Arthur?"
Madoka shook her head. "All I know are the parts you've talked about."
"Okay. Well. When these knights all go on their noble quests, it's in the name of the person they love. But it has to be a...a pure love, you know? They can't let themselves get distracted, or, or tainted — not that you're a taint or anything! — point is, they'll lose their focus, and won't be good enough anymore, and, and...."
...and she was babbling, they both knew it, desperately trying to bluff and bluster her way around...what?
Madoka bent towards her, moving to clasp her bare wrist. Sayaka's breath caught.
"The thing is." Madoka pulled on Sayaka's hand, shivering as the other girl's fingers twitched against her skin. "The thing is, I don't think that's right! I think, if I love you, and I do, I don't see why there's anything wrong with you being able to t-touch me!"
"Madoka...." breathed Sayaka, the name unfurling like a sigh.
Then, with exquisite hesitation, she slid her hand up under the edge of Madoka's skirt.
***
Every flutter of Madoka's lashes was a treasure, every tiny noise from her lips a revelation.
If I could keep just these parts of you locked in my heart forever...I think I'd be happy.
The first time she kissed Sayaka, their teeth scraped together and her squeak of surprise sent them both dissolving into giggles. Then they tried it again.
Was all of this...the wish, the contract, the fighting of witches, the raging against these four walls...was it really for some noble purpose? Or was it nothing more than a selfish bid to make you grateful enough to touch me like this?
By unspoken agreement their hands danced over only what bare skin they could reach. Up Madoka's legs to the jutting bones of her hips were encircled by a thin lace-colored strip of elastic, under Sayaka's shirt to trace the tops of plush silk-hugged curves: these were pushing the rules, not cheating.
I don't deserve you. No one deserves you. But I'll fight until I do, or die trying.
They fell asleep on the same bed again that night, in soft clean pajamas: Sayaka the biggest spoon, Madoka the middle one, and Panda-san the little spoon. Madoka's top hung loose around the neckline; Sayaka could see the pale soft expanse of her shoulder, the dusting of freckles that led down the tops of her teacup breasts before the stuffed panda's head crushed the fabric too close to peer farther.
I love you, Sayaka thought fiercely. I love you so much.
And she slipped into murky dreams, full of dark fumes and glassy-eyed zombies with bruised faces, each blue swelling marked with a witch's-kiss: two bars of nonsense notes in three-quarter time.
***
April 16
Saturday
Sayaka lay sprawled on the futon, on top of the covers, hair falling over her eyes and one sock half-off. Her breathing was perfectly even. Just to drive the point home, she added a gentle snore.
"I don't think that helps," whispered Madoka. "M-maybe you should leave that out."
"Got it," hissed Sayaka in return. "How long do I have?"
"A minute and a half," said Madoka without looking at the clock. Sayaka had gotten into position ten minutes early, and asked for an ETA about as many times. With all the clock-watching Madoka had done these past few weeks, she could have counted the seconds blindfolded.
A few weeks. Three, plus a day. There were only two more rows of dates waiting to be crossed out on Madoka's hand-penciled calendar; Homura had probably calculated that by this point she would give up and decide to wait the last of it out. Without Sayaka there to help her, the calculation might even have been right.
She had to get out. To hug her parents and Tatsuya, to tell Hitomi and Kyousuke they were safe and well, to stand under the blue sky and fall into Sayaka's arms. She had to hold Sayaka's hand and say, Mama, I'm in love with a girl. And you don't have to worry about anything, because she's already taken such good care of me....
And to make all that happen, she had to stuff those recently-exploded feelings back in a box.
Hit with another round of nerves, Madoka adjusted her hair ribbons (blue today...had that been a too-revealing choice?) for the umpteenth time. Don't think about her hands under your shirt. Don't think about the burning where her lips touched your neck. Don't think about how much you love her when she's brilliant and strong and determined, how that ache in your heart is just as strong when she's angry and restless and hurting where she won't let you see....
"Thirty seconds," she whispered, and tiptoed to the corner of the room, the little square of floor space that stuck out past the wall to catch the base of the dark and hidden stairs.
She was waiting there with politely folded hands and toes turned inward when the door far above opened to a sliver of light, and Homura's heels clicked down the top few steps. "Kaname Madoka. Are you waiting for something?"
"S-sort of," said Madoka. "Please don't be too loud. Sayaka...Sayaka-chan's asleep again, and I want her to stay that way."
Homura tilted her head. Her violet eyes were glassy and expressionless; in the backlit gloom Madoka could make out what looked like fresh scars across one of her cheeks. "Is her presence becoming unwelcome? I will dispose of her if you like."
"Dispose...? Do you mean take her somewhere else?"
"I mean I will do to her what all people who hurt Kaname Madoka deserve."
"Don't be so mean!" hissed Madoka, voice unexpectedly breaking. "Even if she's been horrible to you, that doesn't give you the right to...to...!"
I don't have to pretend not to be in love with Sayaka, she realized in that moment. All I have to do is aim those feelings at Homura.
"I apologize," said Homura with a slight bow, and took a step backward.
"Don't go," begged Madoka. She would never pull this off if Homura didn't give her the chance. "Please don't go."
***
Holding still had never been Sayaka's strong suit. But if it was required of her as the knight and protector of her best friend, she could do anything.
Madoka's uncertain sock-footed steps padded backward into the main room, followed by Akemi's steady footfalls. Sayaka kept her eyes tight shut.
"Why do you always leave the door open?" asked Madoka. It was the line they had prepared, a hint meant for Sayaka without sounding obvious about it; but to Sayaka's ears it sounded false and calculated, a hard shift from the verge-of-tears she was supposed to be pulling herself off of. "That is, um, what would you do if it shut by accident? If there were a breeze, or a passing cat, or something?"
If Akemi felt any suspicion, she didn't show it. "It is too heavy to shut by accident."
"...oh. Okay."
"But if it were closed on purpose, I would explode it with a pipe bomb."
Madoka's voice went shaky. Sayaka could picture her face, the blood drained away, lashes fluttering. "That's very...um, impressive."
"I scare you," said Akemi.
There was a limit to how many lies Madoka could tell without expecting Akemi to see through her like a screen door. To Sayaka's relief, she didn't push it. "Y-yes. Sorry."
"Don't be. It would be strange if you weren't."
"Would it?" A soft sound, as of clasping hands; Sayaka heard someone's breath hitch, and could have sworn it wasn't Madoka's. Maybe the crazy bitch had feelings after all. "Even if you're dangerous, Akemi-san...it's to protect me, right? You wouldn't hurt me?"
Sayaka lifted her eyelids the tiniest fraction. As planned, Akemi's back was to her, and Madoka was clutching her hands while displaying irresistible sparkling wide doe-eyes. She was beautiful. Fragile, to look at her. Indescribably precious.
"Kaname Madoka..." For the first time, silver-tongued Akemi seemed lost for words. "There is too much you don't understand."
"I...I'm glad you're here," stammered Madoka. "Is that strange?"
"Yes," said Akemi. "You should far prefer Miki Sayaka's company to mine."
That, at least, she and Sayaka could agree on.
"It's nothing against Sayaka-chan!" insisted Madoka. "She's under a lot of stress right now, that's all. It doesn't mean she doesn't care about me! Once we get out, I'm sure she'll go back to normal! Akemi-san, please, tell me she's going to be okay? I d-don't know why, but it feels like I can rely on you...."
Noiselessly, while she was talking, Sayaka sat up. Her path was clear.
Madoka's eyes were much too shifty. After a glance that took in Sayaka, she solved the problem by bowing her head, using a shaky little hiccup to jolt that much closer to Akemi. "I'm s-sorry, you might not want someone like me clinging to you, when all I've done is cause you trouble and make you go to all this effort...."
"Trouble," echoed Akemi. "You have no idea how much trouble, Kaname Madoka...."
Her dark hair shifted as her own head dipped to touch Madoka's.
In her long and neatly-cuffed sleeves, Sayaka's hand twitched just so.
She had told Madoka the plan was to keep Akemi distracted while Sayaka ran for the door. As if that weren't doomed to fail. The steel door was only the first hurdle to clear; Sayaka would have to find her Soul Gem, find a phone, maybe find a series of hiding places, all while avoiding recapture. Even if Madoka could buy her an insane amount of time before Akemi noticed the prison's missing tenant, the basic plan still involved Sayaka abandoning her to be touched and pawed at for the duration. And if Sayaka did escape, Madoka would doubtless be hauled off to an emergency backup cell, to suffer who knew what before Sayaka, Mami, and the police tracked her down again....
"You never listen," continued Akemi, an unstable lilt rocking her otherwise emotionless voice. "I tell you to stay put and you don't. I tell you not to wish and you ignore it. So much I've had to do to you, Kaname Madoka, because you couldn't leave well enough alone...But it's okay now. You're going to be safe whether you want to or not...."
Most importantly, Sayaka couldn't run now because Akemi was fucking crazy.
"I—" began Madoka, then shrieked as Akemi was yanked away from her, Sayaka leaping onto the lunatic's back and jabbing with the first of her self-sharpened knives. Once. Twice.
She hit a vein. Blood sprayed across Madoka's face. "Run!" yelled Sayaka.
Akemi thrashed and struggled, not screaming, barely making a sound except for the panicked clock-tick coming from her shield. Sayaka stabbed again. Her vision greyed at the edges in time with the clicking, and there was something wrong with the way Madoka was moving, but she had no time to pay attention to the particulars. Not yet.
The red-stained plastic tip snapped off in Akemi's throat. Sayaka slipped the second knife into her hand and stabbed again. Her fist was slippery with blood, her sleeves soaked in it. Again. Again.
Akemi sagged, dead weight in her arms. The clicking stopped.
"I told you to run!" shouted Sayaka again, driving the second knife into Akemi's jugular to leave it there. The third and final one could stay in her sleeve as insurance, until she had her real swords again. "Go!"
Madoka was frozen, horrified, staring down at the body as Sayaka let it fall in a bloodstained heap to the ground. She didn't move until Sayaka grabbed her arm and yanked.
"You—" Madoka choked on the words; Sayaka didn't care what she said or not as long as she kept moving up the stairs. "You killed—"
I know where my Soul Gem is! thought Sayaka with dizzy elation. Out loud, she added, "I know where a phone is!"
That shut Madoka up long enough for them to burst across the impossible threshold and out into a ground-floor corridor, bathed in sunset light.
***
At first Madoka couldn't understand why the walls of the corridor, and of the compact sitting room beyond it, were painted in such a brilliant spectrum of oranges and reds.
Then her eyes remembered how to see in light that wasn't the steady fluorescent of the cell, and she almost cried at the sight.
"There's a phone," repeated Sayaka, leading her across the bare pine floor. "Upstairs. She must be charging it in her room. Come on!"
"You...could have gotten it," panted Madoka as Sayaka dragged her into a chipped kitchenette piled with dirty dishes and food stains, then stopped to grab a towel from the handle of the fridge. "That...that was the plan!"
"Plans change," said Sayaka briskly, tossing back her hair and scrubbing as much blood as she could off of her hands. She missed a lot. It was under her nails; it had soaked into blotches up her sleeves.
"You did change them...right?"
"You've got some on your face," Sayaka told her, folding the towel over. "Hold still."
And she tried to dab Madoka's cheeks, like it was nothing, like Papa wiping off the wasabi sauce when Tatsuya tried to eat. (Unless he's gotten neater while I've been away....)
"You killed her!" wailed Madoka, throwing herself backward. She would have tripped over something if there were any furniture in the barren nook to trip over. "That wasn't the plan, right Sayaka-chan? Tell me I wasn't helping you kill her!"
Sayaka's shell of normality cracked. "You weren't!" she snapped. "You didn't know. That makes it my fault. And if I had to, I'd do it all over again! Now do you want to have blood on your face when you call your mother, or not?"
Twin tears ran down Madoka's cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut and let Sayaka dab them away with the rest.
It wasn't...murder. Right? It was self-defense, or at least love-of-self's-defense. Even if she had never imagined Sayaka capable of...of....
She's under a lot of stress right now. Captivity makes you lose perspective. Once we get out, I'm sure she'll go back to normal.
The towel got thrown on the pile of dishes molding in the sink as Sayaka led her to the foot of another staircase: this one out in the open, built of white-painted planks, with soft carpet on every step and windows spilling light at the bottom and the top. Out the bottom window Madoka could see bushes, parked bicycles, streetlights, the ceramic tiles roofing the properties across the street. They were somewhere in the middle of an ordinary block of two-floor tenement houses, in what could have been the borders of Mitakihara or any other modern city in Japan.
When Sayaka grabbed the bannister, her fingers left dull red marks on the paint.
Shaking, Madoka took the first step to follow...
...and gravity flipped directions, so that she was facing the ceiling when she landed, head spinning, on something soft.
***
Sayaka nearly twisted her wrist as she crashed face-first into a none-too-pliant surface while her body was mid-step.
Even with the sudden swimming between her ears, she recognized the bedroll instantly.
(But the light was wrong. Dark, too dark, with strange bright spots, and noises like scratching and the rushing of sand....)
Fighting the headache and the dizziness, Sayaka forced herself up onto hands and knees. The familiar breathing from across the tiny cell turned out to be Madoka, flat on her back on the blankets with Panda-san sitting calm as you please above her twintails.
"Madoka-chan!" cried Sayaka, then choked at a metallic click right behind her.
(Echoed by a ringing like dissonant bells, along with the flowing sand and something that smelled of lilies....)
Madoka turned her head, and went tissue-white. "Akemi-san, no! Please!"
"Give me one good reason Kaname Madoka," hissed an impossible voice, dangerous and trembling and all in one breath.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-12-16 04:43 am (UTC)whaaaaaaaaaat
Wow, okay, this was an amazing chapter. I love the development of Madoka and Sayaka's relationship, and that end scene was terrifying. Poor girls, they're all going through far, far too much.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-12-17 04:11 am (UTC)Poor girls, they're all going through far, far too much.
Amen. (And with much more still to go.)
Very Nice
Date: 2012-12-16 06:59 am (UTC)Re: Very Nice
Date: 2012-12-16 05:27 pm (UTC)