An abandoned warehouse, like so many others.

Pebbles of broken cement crunch under your feet as you round a corner. The only light is the golden glow of your soul gem, but it's reflected from the shattered glass scattered on the floor, illuminating most of the room. It's a cavernous storage area, full of skeletal and empty shelves that are slumped in every direction as their rusted legs slowly collapse.

Nobody told you, when you became a magical girl, that you'd be spending most of your time in warehouses, back alleys, busy intersections, and run-down apartment buildings. There are a lot of things that nobody told you, actually. But here you are.

It's exactly the sort of place that witches' victims like to congregate, to end their lives in an appropriate setting, but your soul gem assures you that there aren't any witches nearby. You wave your hand over it, its light fades away, and you turn to leave the room, when...

"Tomoe Mami."

You freeze. In the emptiness of the room, it's impossible to tell which direction the speaker was in. You raise your soul gem high, setting it glowing again and illuminating most of the room, casting long shadows across the floor, but the speaker remains invisible. It can't be a witch—they don't speak—but witches aren't the only dangerous thing in the backalleys of Mitakihara. There are days when you're not even sure if they're the most dangerous.

A second or two passes in silence, and finally, sounding far more confident than you actually are, you say, "Who's there? Come out and let me see you!"

The next few seconds are just as quiet, and you briefly wonder if you imagined the voice altogether... and then, from some unseen spot in the darkness above, a girl descends, and lands just at the edge of your circle of light. Even in the near-darkness, it only takes you a second to analyze her outfit; it's instinct by now. Those strange boots, the not-quite-seifuku outfit, the shield on her forearm... she's obviously a puella magi. Without even thinking about it, your body tenses up, and your fingers tighten their grip on your soul gem.

If she notices, she doesn't seem to care. "I'm Akemi Homura. I need to talk to you. I think that you and I should be partners."

Your heart momentarily leaps, then you stomp it back down. You need to be careful. After Kyoko... you need to be careful. Even if you are desperately hoping that she's on the level. "And... Akemi-san? Why should I trust you?"

The girl steps forward out of the shadows, with her hands held forward and open. You're not sure what that shield on her arm is for, but you doubt it's a weapon. Unarmed, then. You laugh at this, but lower your soul gem. "You're either too confident, or too trusting." You can't bring yourself to sound too disapproving. "... how did you find me? Why do you want my help?"

The fact that she doesn't answer your first question should make you suspicious, but her answer to the second distracts you too much to think about it. "Have you ever heard of Walpurgisnacht?"

You twirl around, launching out a new line of muskets. They bury themselves muzzle-first in the spongy ground, and you instantly reach down to whip one up. A clawing shadow, carried by tiny angelic wings on its back, rises up out of the fog, and you swing your weapon in a horizontal arc, blowing through the familiar and dispelling it into mist. Just as quickly, another rises in front of you, and a single blast from your musket blows a hole through it. The smell of gunpowder and smoke mixes with the strange black licorice that permeates the witch's barrier.

"Behind you!"

At Homura's voice, you turn, just in time to spot a chain flying out of the darkness toward you. You dance backward and away from it, raise a gun in each hand to fire toward the unseen source, and take another leap backward just as the witch charges into sight—a pale, female figure, as featureless as a mannequin, and wearing a dress made out of pitch black chains. It glides across the ground, barreling straight at you.

You heft up another musket and prepare to fire as the witch closes in. For just a split second, it dawns on you that you were too slow, and a single shot isn't going to stop it. You cringe, and your grip on the gun weakens... and then, in the corner of your eye, you see Homura flicker into existence behind the witch, with a rifle in her hands. You've been fighting alongside her for days, but you're still not used to that. She disappears again in the blink of an eye, but the sound of gunfire erupts as a dozen bullets fly away from the spot where she'd been, and the witch wails in pain.

It's not an especially effective attack, but it's enough. The witch stops its charge and whirls on the spot where Homura had been, only for her to attack from a different angle, making as a series of small explosions erupt from its side. The witch roars, and another wave of minions flows into the battlefield, winged shadows with spears like the posts of a wrought iron fence. You recover from your daze and prepare more weapons to start thinning them out, but Homura stops you from across the room. "Tomoe-san! Now!"

You look back at the witch, and realize that Homura has managed to herd it away from you and get it to hold mostly still. "R-right!" Kick the foot out, swing it around. Raise one hand into the air. You can feel the magic flowing out of you, a sensation like your entire body is a beacon of light and warmth, for just a moment, and then heavy steel settles into your hand out of the air—another musket, easily the size of a minivan.

"Tiro...!" You can feel that the weapon in your hands is so heavy that you should be crushed into a smear beneath it, but you swing it down and level it at the witch with ease. "... Finale!" A massive explosion blossoms from the barrel, and the hot wind that blows backward feels like it might tear off your clothes for just a moment. When the blast clears, you see the witch again, now with a nearly cartoonish hole through its body.

You breathe a sigh of relief as the barrier starts fading... and a still-coherent familiar leaps up at you. Your hand clenches up around a gun that is no longer there, and you have just enough time to realize that its spear is leveled at your heart. And then, Homura is in front of you. She deflects the spear's tip with a two-handed thrust from her rifle, then steps away. Another gunshot rings out, you wince from the noise—somehow, Homura's quite mundane rifles are so much harsher than your own magically-conjured guns—and the familiar gives a pitiful squeal as it too begins to fade.

You're left gasping for air, your fingers trembling from adrenaline and your eyes darting side to side, but the threats are truly gone now, and reality is starting to assert itself again, making a plain alley appear where a twisted landscape of spikes and barriers had been.

Homura is looking at you uncertainly. It's no wonder, you probably look like you're about to collapse. You try to calm down a little, run a hand back through your hair, and force a laugh. "That was good! I'm not sure I could have taken it down alone."

"We both did it," she says, and like everything else you've ever heard from her, it's impossible to tell whether or not she's saying what she really thinks. Maybe she's just struggling to hide her disdain. She did just save your life. Maybe twice. And here you are, her senpai.

You want to feel ashamed. You should feel ashamed, you know. But... you can't help but smile. She saved you. After endless nights of saving other people from witches, often without the slightest bit of thanks, it feels good to get a little reciprocation. The world probably owes you some help by now. There are certainly times when you feel like you deserve it.

You consider saying something about the debt you owe her, but before you can, the other girl cuts you off. The cool, smooth surface of a grief seed drops into your palm, and her fingers brush yours as she pulls them back. That's... probably the first time I've touched another person in weeks. Months, maybe. The unbidden thought makes you blush, and before you can gather your thoughts, she explains, "It's yours. I have plenty of others. ... I need to take care of something tomorrow night, but we can meet up the same time on Thursday."

It takes a moment for something as mundane as scheduling to click in your mind, but you finally give a weak nod. "Right! I should be free then." I'm always free, you reflect bitterly, and your eyes turn down to the grief seed in your palm. Still, that smile returns to your face as your thoughts drift to happier topics. "And thank you, Akemi-san. For today. I'd probably be dead if—"

You look back up, and find that she's already gone.

You stare down the barrel of a musket, and you're almost proud when you realize that it's holding steady, despite what you just watched. Despite the fact that it's pointed at Homura. "A-akemi-san." You really need your voice to sound steady, to help convince yourself that you're prepared for what you're about to do, but you can't pull it off. "Why did you d-do that?"

Homura's back is to you, but you can see her shoulders tense. Catching a girl who can stop time off-guard isn't easy, but it would seem that you've managed it. She very slowly turns around to face you, and even if you hadn't witnessed the murder, you could barely have a more clear case—in one hand, Homura is carrying a slightly dented aluminum baseball bat. In the other, the mangled and unmoving corpse of Kyubey. Her violet eyes meet yours, and the lack of emotion over what she's done, the lack of remorse, is almost enough to make you pull the trigger. "I didn't—"

"I-I saw you!" Your voice is trembling with rage, now. "Kyubey told me that you'd... that you were hunting him! But I didn't... I didn't want to believe..." Your vision blurs as a tear rises to your eye, but you grit your teeth, and tighten your grip on your gun to keep it from shaking.

Homura is starting to look worried now—it might be the first time you've seen her show emotion. Good. Let her feel guilt about what she's done.

"There are things Kyubey hasn't told you. Things that—" Homura is speaking carefully now. Like she's speaking to a child.

"So you had to kill him?!"

"Mami." Your grip on the gun briefly relaxes, as you realize that this is probably the first time somebody's called you by your first name since... months. Years, maybe. It feels like forever. "Please put the gun down and let me explain."

Like it even matters. You've fought alongside her enough to know that, if she really thought you were going to shoot her, she could just freeze time. Before you could even blink, she'd be by your side, and in the space between thoughts, she'd put a bullet in your head. Maybe that's what you want. You don't want to shoot her; that much is suddenly obvious. Without even thinking about it, you nod, and slowly lower the barrel of the gun.

Kyubey regenerates, she says, and is effectively immortal. There is a friend she wants to protect—you feel a brief pang of jealousy, which is almost as bewildering as her explanations—and terrible things will happen if she becomes a magical girl. It barely makes sense, and it's obvious that she's hiding something much bigger. It's certainly not convincing. But it's enough for now.

You only met her briefly, in tense conversations in alleyways. Kyubey had told her all about you and Homura, and she had no intentions of teaming up with such evil magical girls. But now...

"Th-that... that thing was Miki-san?!" Your voice cracks as you speak, but you don't even care.

Homura kneels down to lower Sayaka's unmoving body to the floor—you can't even bear to look at it—and glances away, looking almost guilty. "... yes."

The battle comes back to you in flashes: The mermaid-witch towering over you, your shots splintering wheels that are bigger than you are, the rush of hot air as half a dozen grenades explode around the creature's base... and that was Sayaka? You wouldn't believe it if the girl hadn't been huddled over her corpse inside of the barrier. The pink-haired girl. The one Homura wanted to protect.

"She turned into a witch. But... but why...?" You raise your eyes up to Homura, and you feel your hand groping blindly for one of your muskets. It closes around one, and you find the familiar weight comforting.

Homura meets your gaze, and her expression hardens. You realize that she knew. Maybe she knew all along. And she didn't tell you. "It's the fate of all magical girls. Either you die, or..." She trails off, but her brief glance toward Sayaka's body tells you all you need to know.

The thoughts race through your head, but really, you don't even know where to begin. A sick feeling rises in your stomach. Everything you know, everything you've done... if this is the truth, you've been wrong all along. Not incorrect, but wrong. Bad. Twisted. You hear a sob come from your lips, and a tear run down your cheek, but your body feels so far away from your thoughts. The inhumanity of that creature she became, the pointless malice...

"I-if I'm going to end up like that... if we're going to end up like that...!" You barely realize that your hands are rising, with your musket resting in them. It shakes violently in your unsteady grip, but it will get the job done.

"Don't."

... and then your hands stop. Homura is suddenly next to you, and her hands are on yours. They're soft, you realize, and instantly feel stupid for noticing such a minor detail under the circumstances... but her grip is firm. You give the musket a sharp tug, a small show of defiance, and glare at Homura. For a moment, you want to continue. To kick her away and try pulling it up anyway, to turn it on her, to do anything crazy and destructive.

But, your eyes blur as more tears flow out, and your legs wobble beneath you, suddenly as shaky as your arms. Without even thinking about it, you collapse against Homura, with your face buried against her shoulder.

You cry. You sob, more like it. It's not one of those storybook ones, where you cry away the pain... you feel like your soul was ripped away and left you, this empty, crying thing, behind. At some point, Homura guides you back to your apartment and settles you onto the couch next to her, and you barely notice. Your face stays pressed to her warm body, and in your occasional flashes of coherent thought, you're aware that you're covering the shoulder of her outfit in snot and tears. But you don't care. You're just grateful to have somebody to cry against.

You wake up with a start the next morning, when you realize that you're not laying in your bed, but rather leaning against something warm. Somebody warm. You slowly pull backward to sitting, and through a thin curtain of your own mussed and matted hair, see Homura, still sleeping next to you. The events of the previous night flash back to you, and while a leaden dread settles into your stomach, it brings a flash of embarrassment. She stayed here all night to keep an eye on you.

You think back to the previous night's revelations... and your apparent willingness to kill yourself. Or Homura. In retrospect, you're not even sure which. Your fingers tighten on the lower hem of your skirt as you think back on it, and the possibility of becoming like that monster some day. What will it even be like? Will you see it coming, or...?

You feel the tears welling in your eyes again, and force a change of thought. Homura knew about it all along. Homura knew... and she's still here. You feel a temporary surge of hope. Does she know something else? Some way to avoid it? Knowing what she does, she must have some reason to keep going.

You've never seen Homura like this, you suddenly realize. She's always so intent and alert, but now, sleeping slumped over on your couch, she just looks like an ordinary girl. Almost vulnerable. If you wanted to, you could finish what you started last night, kill her here and now and then yourself...

... but she trusted you. Even after you raised a gun at her—twice, actually—she felt safe enough to sleep next to you. It would be a sin to betray that. You'd be no better than a witch. And you are. You're better than that. So, whatever you may become tomorrow, today is today, and you can still do some good.

You sigh and straighten your hair up, then push all of that aside. The first order of business: breakfast. You skipped dinner last night, and Homura probably did too. The prospect of cooking for a guest, for the first time in a year, energizes you, and before you know it, you have two skillets on the stovetop and the oven is heating. You set the table. Two places; one plate is significantly more scratched-up than the other, because a single one is all you ever need to use. You're careful to give Homura the one in better condition.

And finally, you approach the sleeping girl and reach out to shake her shoulder. "Akem—" Your voice catches in your throat. After what you've been through, after last night, and seeing her like this... well. Formality feels strange now. You shake her shoulder and try again.

"Homura... san. Wake up. I made pancakes."

It feels stupid now, looking back, that you were ever so ready to kill yourself. Homura's explained it all. You only become a witch if you use up all of your reserves, if you push yourself too far, if your soul gem looks too dark. You don't need to worry about any of those, as long as Homura is around. Your soul gem's never looked better.

A partner's what you've needed all along, you realize. Even before Homura showed up, before the revelation, you were starting to wonder if saving people mattered, if you could keep doing this for the rest of your life. Now, you're sure that it does, and you can. It's so simple. You just needed a little help. You've even saved her a few times, you think. Your embarrassment the first few times she saved your life seems silly in retrospect. It's okay that you're imperfect. She is too. Together, you more than make up for it.

You've been fighting alongside Homura for almost three weeks now, long enough to become a well-oiled team. You duck; half a dozen projectiles, colorful blobs each as big as you are, fly overhead and splatter to the floor of the barrier. As the witch continues firing at you, Homura vanishes and reappears by its side. You've trained your eye to follow her movements, and see the briefest glimpse of her appearing next to it, dropping a handful of grenades, and vanishing again.

With a volley of musketfire, you clear an area of familiars. Homura retreats to it, just as the witch explodes.

By the time the barrier starts fading, you're already hurrying to her side. You snagged the grief seed this time, and you hold up your prize with a smile. "This one's yours."

Homura meets it with a wan smile of her own. It's not the first time you've seen her do so, even. She's still not very talkative, but she's shown a little more emotion lately. "Thank you. I think that's the last of them for the night. I'll see you—..."

She trails off, as you press the grief seed into her palm, then wrap yours around it, pressing your hand to hers without thinking. Homura's eyes widen—surprise, that's one you've never seen from her—and you feel your cheeks burn with a furious blush. You have no idea what you're doing... but it feels good. You suddenly realize that you don't want her to go. It's felt like those moments you're alone, between the end of school and when she's ready to hunt witches, are just so empty.

And not just because you're lonely.

After a moment's hesitation, you tighten your grip on her hand. "A-actually, Homura... Homura-chan." You clear your throat—if you stammer like a gradeschooler while you do this, you'll regret it forever. "I'm not doing anything tonight, and if you'd like to come over..." You practically grin as you ask the question.

She says yes. She comes over to your apartment, and for a few hours, you just sit and talk like normal schoolgirls. Well, you talk. She mostly listens. You tell her about how you contracted, trade a few stories about witches you've both fought. You even tell her about Kyoko.

When she finally leaves, you lay awake in bed for what feels like half the night, clutching a pillow to your chest and smiling. You wish she were here, but just knowing that she exists, that she's out there, makes everything better. You want to know everything about her. You want to be with her in every way possible, to just leap into her and merge together until you're a single happy mess.

For once, you feel like you have something to look forward to when you wake up the next morning.

You see less of Homura over the next week. She's gone a lot—where, you're not sure, but she's seemed more concerned about the pink-haired girl, her friend she wants to protect. Kyubey has been avoiding you, but knowing what he hid from you, you can't even feel guilty. You've seen him occasionally following the pink-haired girl in the halls at school, and the only thing that stops you from telling Homura is that you're afraid it will make her spend even more time away from you.

When you're together, it's mostly business. Walpurgisnacht is coming, and you need to be ready. She goes over her plans, where her weapons caches will be placed, all of it. She makes you learn how to operate an RPG-7, in case, she says, she dies before she can fire them all. You pay attention—you don't want to disappoint her—but it's not the first thing on your mind.

Walpurgisnacht is coming, after all. Back when this all started, she said that your partnership would only last until then. It's obvious now that you can't allow that to happen. So, it's decided. You'll keep quiet for now, and enjoy these calm little moments, as Homura teaches you how to load a mortar or plans the best time for you to add a musket barrage. But afterward, when Walpurgisnacht is defeated and everything is calm, that's when you'll tell her.

The pink-haired girl shows up. In a magical girl uniform... hair in pigtails, a bow covered in roses. When did she contract? It had to be a few days ago at the most. Homura looks like she's going to cry, and you're forced to watch from a few feet away, as she begs the girl—Madoka, apparently—to stay out of this. Madoka refuses, and Homura finally asks you to keep her safe throughout the battle.

Your heart sinks, and you look over the pink-haired girl. Just how important is she to Homura. Are they...?

Before you can follow that train of thought any further, the already-impressive wind picks up, and you see a massive shape on the horizon. Walpurgisnacht. Its scale would scare you senseless, if Homura hadn't already prepared you for it. You still barely believed it until now.

You stare in disbelief for a moment, until the actions Homura drilled into you return to your mind. "Stay behind me!" you instruct Madoka as you take off running. You clear a few familiars with your muskets, but you know that they're barely more than a distraction compared to the witch. You summon a much larger musket and fire a meter-wide blast of fire toward it to get its attention, then another, and another, each one enough to destroy a weak witch, but they splash against the distant witch's skin without accomplishing anything. They're joined by Homura's first volley, half a dozen rockets—those ones are AT-4s, you remind yourself—exploding with as little effect. As if to taunt you, a high-pitched, manic giggle fills the air.

A few pink arrows fly over your shoulder and blast through familiars, and you nod backward to Madoka, grateful for the covering fire. The next step is mortars, you know, and you join Homura at the spot where they're lined up, walking toward each other and firing them one by one, with equally useless results. The witch turns to head toward you, though... and before either of you, Madoka realizes what that means. "I-it's heading toward the shelters!"

"Mami, draw its attention! Madoka, stay back!" You know that Homura is mostly out of her larger weapons, and she pulls out a rifle as she jogs away. The buildings around you are starting to groan as the wind tears at them. You summon muskets—more than you've ever made before, hundreds, enough to fill the air—and for a moment, the entire cityscape is illuminated with muzzle flashes. Homura joins in with her rifle, but the witch is undeterred.

Madoka, next to you, balls one gloved fist. "I can stop it. I know I can..." She raises her bow and readies it, making a glowing arrow materialize on the string. This one is far brighter than the others, and you can feel an electric shiver run through the air as power flows to the girl.

"M-madoka, no...!" Homura shouts, audible over the wind from dozens of feet away, and takes off running toward her. But it's too late.

Your eyes are puffy from crying, and you're not sure why. Maybe it was the look on Madoka's face, that proud smile, as Homura sobbed over the girl's dimming soul gem. Maybe it was the look on Homura's face, seeing your friend in so much pain as she asked you to give her a minute alone with Madoka. Maybe it was the brief glimpse you caught of Homura clasping the pink-haired girl's hands. Maybe it was the single gunshot, or the look of utter defeat on Homura's face when she trudged back into view.

Homura plops down tiredly on the same piece of rubble that you're sitting on. She's battered—Madoka may have won the fight for you, but Homura would still be going to an emergency room if she didn't have a magical girl's resilience. For a moment, the pair of you just look out at the setting sun. It's almost pretty, reflecting over floodwater and broken buildings. She rubs one hand anxiously over the edge of her shield as she watches it.

"I... guess it's over," you say. It's not the best conversation starter, but nothing you could say could approach the sheer magnitude of what just happened. Everything that just happened.

Homura stays silent, but after a few seconds, rises up to standing and turns to face you. Her eyes settle on you, but all the emotion has been drained from them. It's a little unnerving.

"I'm... sorry about your friend." You're telling the truth. You may not have known the girl, and you may have rued every second Homura spent talking to her, but nobody should have to go through what she just did. Homura only nods sullenly in response.

The two of you sit in silence for another few seconds. This time, it's Homura who breaks the silence. "Tomoe Mami. Thank you for... everything. But..." Her hand rises to grip her shield again, and while it's an unfamiliar gesture, her voice says it all.

Your heart sinks, but almost instinctively, you leap to your feet and wrap her in a hug, clinging closely to her. "H-homura-chan, you don't need to go! You can stay here, we'll...!" Your vision blurs, and you tighten your grip on Homura, as if you can keep her here forever by sheer force.

"Mami." Something warm and wet drips on your back. Maybe Homura is crying. Maybe it's just blood. "I should go." She's quiet now, but you hear a click from her shield.

"But Homura-chan!" You're desperate now. You need to say something, anything to keep her here. "I-I think I love...!"

"I'm sorry." There's a single click from her shield, a flash of light, and suddenly, you find your arms wrapped around thin air. Homura is gone. You stumble forward, and by the time you stop, there's no strength in your body to keep you upright.

You fall to your knees in filthy floodwater, and in the middle of the fractured and ruined city, you begin sobbing. This time, there's nobody around to hear it.