"I'm home."
Since Sayaka had gone to the hospital early to visit Kyosuke Kamijo, Madoka headed home by herself.
"Welcome back." Tomohisa poked his head out of the kitchen, wearing his apron.
"You're cooking this early?" Madoka wandered over, a bit surprised.
Many middle schools in Japan let out around three in the afternoon. Students who didn't stay for club activities could get home without walking in the dark.
"Because the fish is a pain to prep..." Tomohisa cast a helpless glance toward the living room TV.
Following his gaze, Madoka spotted Yimi sitting next to Tatsuya, watching cartoons together.
"Have you seen Swiper? Where is Swiper?" The dark-skinned girl on-screen faced the camera with a troubled expression, while a fox dressed like a burglar crept up right behind her.
"Over there!" Yimi pointed frantically at the corner of the screen.
"Over there, over there!" Three-year-old Tatsuya echoed her panic.
The girl and her monkey finally spotted the fox and pointed: "Swiper, no swiping!"
The fox ignored them completely and snatched the key.
Yimi and Tatsuya plopped back onto the couch, deflated.
Useless Dora.
"Listen—what's that sound?" Dora cupped a hand to her ear, face lighting up. "It's my cousin, Diego!"
A boy swung in on a vine. "Hi everyone, I'm Diego!"
"Diego!"
This time the little cat was genuinely terrified. She leapt off the couch, grabbed Madoka's clothes, and burrowed into her arms to hide, trembling.
Too scary. She'd already finished him off in the last world.
Madoka patted her head, baffled.
"The police brought her back. She accidentally got on a bus to Kazamino and ended up outside the city. Luckily there was an abandoned church nearby—thank goodness she didn't run into any bad people."
Naturally, Tomohisa had also gotten a verbal lecture for being an irresponsible guardian. Fair enough—the little girl had literally run off right in front of him.
He'd been checking with the police station for two days. No one had filed a missing child report. The child herself couldn't explain where her home was. It was bizarre enough to make you wonder if she'd been abandoned.
Tomohisa had peeked under her hat once. Those cat ears were undeniably cute, but in most people's eyes they'd still invite prejudice. Having to steel yourself for stares every single haircut...
No matter how you looked at it, a child gone for two days with no one contacting the police was deeply abnormal. And the kid herself wore that pure, oblivious expression of someone who hadn't realized she'd been thrown away. He really didn't want to be around when she figured it out...
Yimi shook her head, squirmed free from Madoka, and dashed into the kitchen. She placed the skinned Kyubey on the cutting board and looked up at Tomohisa.
"Help me prepare this."
"You mean your little paws? You need to wash those yourself before dinner." Tomohisa looked at her blankly.
Kyubey meat was invisible to ordinary people. Yimi would have to figure this out on her own.
She stowed the Kyubey meat away, then shuffled back to Madoka in tiny steps.
While Sayaka was gone, she grabbed Madoka's clothes and whispered: "Magical Girl... research complete. Want to become one?"
The Magical Girl system kitty had researched was the improved version, you know.
Madoka looked tempted, but she patted Yimi's head. "Sorry—I already promised Sayaka I wouldn't become a Magical Girl."
"So in the end, I'm still fighting alone."
Mami dispatched a bound Familiar with a single shot, kicked the spent rifle aside, and picked up the next one. One bullet per gun—like an elegant dance.
A pity no one was there to appreciate it.
"There's nothing to be done. Humans have always been this way." Kyubey lay draped over her shoulder.
Having no emotions, its behavior had evolved step by step through imitating humans.
Witches were, in a sense, shorthand for Magical Girl. At first, when Incubators told humans the full truth, virtually no one agreed. So they learned to conceal the truth.
To Kyubey's kind, emotion was a rare mental illness—only a handful of exceptional cases exhibited it. Humanity had proven their theory correct: precisely because humans had emotions, they were unwilling to sacrifice individuals for the good of the universe.
And yet it was those very emotions that produced such staggering energy.
No matter. Sayaka Miki would become a Magical Girl sooner or later. And by the emotional logic of human girls, Madoka Kaname wouldn't be far behind.
Even after learning the truth, humans would willingly plunge into despair for wishes the Incubators considered trivial.
"I'm not blaming anyone, Kyubey. Fighting Witches means risking your life at any moment."
That was what she said, but the disappointment was unavoidable. Her willingness to spend magic on Familiars wasn't an act—yet beneath that kind, gentle exterior, she was still just a fifteen-year-old in her third year of middle school. In her heart, she truly wished those two would become Magical Girls and fight by her side.
"By the way, that child called Yimi—isn't she one of Kyubey's kind? Why did you say you wanted to contract her that night?"
Mami landed and voiced the question that had been nagging at her.
Kyubey tilted its head. "Kind? What do you mean?"
Before Mami could answer, a shadow fell across the back of her head.
"Moron! What are you spacing out for?!"
A segmented spear, its jointed sections pulled taut into a rigid shaft, punched clean through the Sweets Witch that had opened its jaws behind Mami, lunging for her head. The voice was familiar, yet carried an edge that felt slightly foreign.
Mami froze for a beat, then realized what had happened only after turning around.
"Oh, look at that—alive and kicking. Wasted my trip." Kyoko crunched the Pocky between her teeth to splinters and scooped up the Grief Seed from the ground.
She gauged her own magic—barely touched. She tossed the Grief Seed to Mami. "Let me guess: you blew all your magic on Familiars, and by the time the real Witch showed up, you had nothing left?"
"Kyoko... Why are you here?" Mami looked at this kouhai she'd fallen out with.
That had been close. If not for Kyoko, Mami might not have noticed the danger before her head was bitten clean off. Battles with Witches allowed zero margin for carelessness.
"Some brat told me you were dead. I figured I could expand my hunting grounds." Kyoko bit down on a fresh Pocky stick, dangling it from her lips in her delinquent pose. "What—don't tell me you're flattering yourself thinking I came to check on you?"
She glanced at the bag in her hand. "I even bought a box of incense on the way, planning to light a stick at your grave and get in a couple good insults. Total waste of my time."
Mami smiled faintly. "If you wanted me dead, you could've just stood there and watched."
"You're right! That's exactly what I should've done!"