Chapter Text
“All right. I’ll play the game with this endless June. As much as you wish.”
“I'll do it over, no matter how many times it takes... I'll relive it over and over again. I will find the way out. The one path that will save you from this destiny of despair.”
It was another sunny day in Hinamizawa.
Again.
Rika had been getting tired of those back when the loops lasted years, and that had been how long ago now? There was a time when Hanyuu had been able to take the two of them back all the way back past the first year, but that had been a long time ago. These days she had two and a half weeks, three tops.
One of these days Hanyuu wouldn’t be able to take them back at all, and Rika didn’t particularly want to think about what would happen after that.
Oh well, it couldn’t be helped. There wasn’t even anything Rika could do just yet to try to avert that looming catastrophe, futile or just maybe otherwise. For all the little variations between fragments most of them fit into one of a few categories, and it would be a couple of days yet until the first of them started to rear their heads. At least that gave her a couple of days more to enjoy time with the rest of the Games Club – but that wasn’t exactly helping right now. Mion had been called over to help with the family trade for the day – probably observing the loan sharks, if Rika had to guess, given the timing – and given that everyone else had dispersed. In theory Rika could have done stuff with Satoko, but it sure looked like Satoko was off making her traps again. Of course, Rika sometimes helped make the traps, but Satoko hadn’t invited her and, well, Rika wasn’t terribly interested in hanging upside-down from her ankle just then. Even Hanyuu was off somewhere; Rika hadn’t seen her since school had let out. In theory there was a certain upside to that, but while Rika had long since started ridiculously underaged drinking it still felt uncouth to head for the old bottle while the sun was still up. Which it was, technically. So instead Rika perched herself by the railing next to the Furude Shrine and looked down on the village.
After a minute, motion caught her eye. Ah! Hanyuu is back!, she thought.
Although… why was Hanyuu hovering a few meters to her left? That wasn’t like Hanyuu, usually she kept quite close to Rika when not on her rounds around the village.
Actually, now that Rika took a closer look… was that even Hanyuu? It was hard to tell, from this angle; the goddess was a little further forwards than Rika, and facing away. But the hair color was a little different than Hanyuu’s, and that wasn’t Hanyuu’s usual hakama – the figure was wearing a long white dress instead.
In fact, now that Rika took a closer look that definitely wasn’t Hanyuu, was it? Rika had gotten so used to ignoring Hanyuu’s horns for Hanyuu’s sake that it had taken her a moment to think about them, but they definitely weren’t there; instead, this other woman had side ponytails. Also, Hanyuu’s breasts would have been visible at this angle (one of these days Rika would actually get old enough to get big breasts of her own) and this newcomer’s weren’t. In fact, if Rika was being honest with herself she wasn’t sure “woman” was the right descriptor here? She wasn’t actually sure this other woman – girl? – was any older than Rena, let alone Mion or Shion.
Ah, well, Rika thought. In theory one of her parents was probably supposed to handle this sort of thing, but seeing as they were dead and Rika wasn’t it kind of fell on her to offer proper offerings, didn’t it?
Rika headed over to the other woman.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” she asked her once she got to a respectful distance, “but… who are you, honored one? And are there any offerings you would like me to set out?”
Madoka Kaname turned and stared.
“Ah, man, I’m getting hungry,” Kyoko complained as the two of them walked through Okinomiya.
“We’ll have to look for something,” Homura agreed after a moment. “Maybe there’s someplace cheap, or else your talents might come in handy. We didn’t exactly bring that much money with us.”
Homura’s family was actually reasonably well off, to be fair, but it wasn’t like her surviving parent had ever really cared about her all that much, even after he had been forced to admit that Homura was right and that boarding school he’d once sent her to was literally killing her. She got a nice apartment and a monthly allowance, these days, and if she wanted anything else the answer was probably no. On a good day, at least. On a bad day it would be “hell no” and a rant about how Homura was a dishonor to the Akemi name. She’d used a couple of months of savings and fenced an ill-gotten good in order to make sure the two of them had enough for this little expedition. Most of that had been spent on the two bikes and camping gear currently stored in Homura’s shield – Kyoko had plenty of experience sleeping rough and Homura was more than happy to do the same for a few days rather than pay for a hotel – and the train tickets had eaten a chunk too. There was probably enough yen left to last them a few days without resorting to petty thievery, but the two of them would need to be careful. Besides, if they were going to have to resort to stealing food Homura preferred doing so here rather than their actual destination. Hinamizawa was the home base of the local Yakuza clan, and drawing their attention would make it harder to operate and also harder to loot their stockpile on the way out. Okinomiya was also in their territory, but as an actual small city it was better suited to anonymity.
“Yeah, yeah. I just don’t feel like solving mysteries on an empty stomach,” Kyoko sighed.
There was a reason the two of them had come here, Homura reflected. In the last couple of months, apparently the Incubators had detected some sort of strange effect encompassing Hinamizawa and its surroundings. That much had been widely circulated among the Puella Magi community. What had convinced Homura to investigate in spite of her dislike of those little bastards, however, was that the Incubators had dated the start of the effect to right before the first of May.
Homura was more than a little curious why an effect would have started up here right after Madoka had made her wish, yes.
She’d managed to get a little more information out of the Incubators before actually making the trip. There had been something strange in the area for years – apparently the Incubators were somehow unable to approach closer than a few kilometers of the village, and had been for at least a century before this new effect showed up. A few Puella Magi had investigated the anomaly over the years; none had returned. Honestly, if the timing didn’t seem to be strongly connected to Madoka that alone would have convinced Homura to stay a long way away; as it was, the two of them were going to have to be very careful indeed. It wasn’t out of the question at all that the problem was a Wraith, or worse; Hinamizawa had been an insular place for a very long time, and the town’s original name of Onigafuchi was… suggestive. But Homura had her doubts. None of what limited evidence she had been able to find meshed well with either of those possibility. Perhaps it would be better of she was wrong, though; if the problem wasn’t a Wraith’s miasma (or something similar, like an old Witch’s barrier), then that meant something new, and the thing about entirely new things was that they were impossible to properly prepare for.
“Oh, hey, an arcade!” Kyoko yelled happily, jolting Homura out of her thoughts. “We should stop by, maybe they’ll have DDR, I haven’t gotten to play in a week.”
Homura saw it herself after a moment, on the other side of the street and a couple of blocks down. Hmm. It wasn’t actually a terrible idea, now that Homura thought about it. It wouldn’t help them find food in and of itself, no, and the games frankly weren’t that interesting to her. Which meant Homura wasn’t exactly good at them, either, since she’d never bothered to practice. Well, except when she busted out the time stop in short intervals to cheat – she’d done that to Kyoko twice so far, and the look on her friend’s face had been worth it. Of course, that also meant that Kyoko was absolutely sure that Homura was holding back the rest of the time – which Homura admittedly was, in a sense – and kept wanting to challenge her. Facing such an uncertain situation and with no guarantee of defeating any Wraiths soon, of course, Homura couldn’t afford to spend magic on that today. On the other hand, Kyoko had another reason she liked the arcades – focusing on a game kept her mind off of her stomach, on those days when she had enough money to play but not to buy food. That would give Homura time to look around and see if any of the food places nearby were either affordable or not keeping a good eye on their stock.
“Actually, that is not a bad idea,” Homura conceded.
They headed over and in, and looked around at the assorted games.
“Wait, what is up with this place?” Kyoko sputtered after a moment. “No DDR?”
It was more than just that, Homura saw. There were far more old-fashioned festival games than Homura was used to from the arcades at Mitakihara, and the video games were… old. Really old. The newest cabinet looked suspiciously like the original Street Fighter; most of them were things like Space Invaders, Asteroids, and even an ancient Pong cabinet.
“It’s like this place never left the Showa era,” Kyoko muttered.
“Now that I think about it, the machines aren’t the only old thing about this place, are they?” Homura said quietly.
“What do you mean?” Kyoko asked,
“Were you looking at any of the cars we saw outside?” Homura asked her in turn.
“Yeah, kind of. They were kind of old, weren’t they?” Kyoko conceded.
“From what I saw, they were all about the same age as these game cabinets,” Homura agreed. “That Kyubey told me that this town was kind of old-fashioned and they thought it was related to the effect, but I thought it was just referring to rural life along with its warnings about cell phone coverage, not... this.”
“I know, at least they could have…” Kyoko started, then trailed off, looking behind Homura.
Homura turned and looked behind her. Uh-oh. There was another girl in the arcade, taller than Homura with blond hair shaped into two long drill-tails and a rather fashionable costume.
Homura knew that look well. Old timelines or no, the last two times she’d met the girl who wore it things had ended on rather unfriendly terms.
“You know,” Mami Tomoe said, “I knew it sounded like you two, but I didn’t actually believe it until you two mentioned Kyubey. "So,” she continued, pointng a very level stare directly at Homura, “what are you two doing here, anyways?"
It was widely known, in Hinamizawa, that those of House Furude were able to see the kami.
Exactly how much of that was reality and how much of that was just reputation was honestly a fair question, Rika thought. Her mother, certainly, had never been able to see Hanyuu, and frankly the difference between the village’s usual image of Oyashiro-sama and the rather shy goddess Rika knew as Hanyuu suggested otherwise. But Rika, certainly, had that ability, and had since she had very young.
Up until two days ago, however, Hanyuu had been the only kami that Rika had seen.
Now, for the first time in a thousand loops, she had met another.
The other kami called herself Madoka; Rika might have wondered at her blowing off the more formal address of O-Madoka-sama, if she hadn’t been used to Hanyuu doing the same thing. She seemed young, and almost desperately happy to have someone new to talk to. Formally introducing the visiting goddess to Hanyuu and having her oldest friend receive the newcomer would have helped with that too, on top of being the formal and hospitable thing to do. Unfortunately, Hanyuu had been almost completely absent for the last two days, and the one time she had shown up she’d left before Rika could talk about the issue.
On the positive side, this Madoka seemed somewhat more blasé about Rika’s occasional bad habit of getting herself drunk with the old family cooking sake late at night. She’d been almost wistful about it, actually.
When Madoka had suggested heading over to Okinomiya after school today, then, Rika had agreed after only a moment’s thought about the possibility of this backfiring and getting her killed. She’d tried to round up the entire Games Club and make this an official activity, for a given value of official, but once again half of them had been busy – Rena was doing something with her father, and Mion was getting called in on family business again. The latter was unfortunate, honestly, if Rika was remembering someone’s schedule correctly.
Rika had, after all, recognized the restaurant that Madoka had wanted them to go to.
She kept pedaling, trailing Keiichi and Satoko, as they reached the crest of the road and started the long downhill towards the larger city.
Somehow, Homura reflected, the situation hadn’t come to blows.
It was probably Kyoko’s presence that had done it, Homura mused. She and Mami Tomoe weren’t as close as they had once been, but they were still on amicable terms and Miss Tomoe was probably reluctant to get into a fight right in front of Kyoko, especially when it would clash with her preferred elegant image. As it was, Homura and Kyoko had explained why they’d come and promptly gotten a little elegant laugh out of Miss Tomoe; Homura’s first instinct, once the shock had worn off, was that Miss Tomoe was here for the same reason the two of them had been, and it had taken little time to prove her correct.
Then Miss Tomoe had offered to buy Kyoko lunch, and Kyoko had taken her up on it. It figured. Every time Homura offered, Kyoko turned her down. Actually, no. Now that Homura thought about it, that was exactly why Kyoko kept turning her down, wasn’t it? It reminded her friend of her time with Miss Tomoe, and while Homura and Kyoko were close these days they weren’t close like that.
Miss Tomoe had taken them to a place called Angel Mort in a different part of town; apparently it was regionally known for its sweets. Homura wondered about the name, honestly; the owner had named it in English to sound exotically foreign, but if Homura was remembering her English classes correctly didn’t the name mean something like “angel of death”? Angel was a lock, that had come up in some Sunday school lesson once back at that accursed school, and Homura kind of remembered “mortal” coming up as something like “able to die” in English class once.
She also wondered about the uniforms, once they headed inside. This was clearly intended to be a maid cafe of sorts, but something about the outfits the waitresses were wearing struck Homura as weirdly reminiscent of a magical girl costume instead, especially on one waitress Homura could see who had green hair. Hell, Homura’s own costume was less flashy than those waitress outfits were.
They settled in and looked over the menu; Miss Tomoe went for something that looked dainty and elegant, while Kyoko had predictably gone for what looked like the biggest thing on the menu. Homura herself took a minute to decide, warring between her ambivalence about sweets and her hunger, before her eyes lit on a concoction mixing ice cream and coffee (“Like an American ice cream soda, only with coffee!”, the menu explained) and curiosity got the better of her. They’d also ordered a curry off the savory part of the menu for the three of them to split; the sweets would provide a quick energy boost, but Homura was keenly aware that they wouldn’t stop any of them from being hungry later.
“So,” Kyoko spoke quietly as their waitress (the green-haired girl, which Homura found vaguely amusing) headed back into the kitchen, “Mami, did you have a plan for how to investigate whatever is going on here?”
“Head into town, blast any Wraith that shows up,” Miss Tomoe shrugged.
That was unusually reckless of Miss Tomoe, Homura thought – the other girl was not half bad as a strategist when she set herself to it. Admittedly that wasn’t always, especially when she was also trying to show off for other people, and that had bitten her in more than one timeline. But… Miss Tomoe hadn’t exactly known either of the two of them were coming, had she? Not by the way she’d reacted to them at the arcade, and if she’d come with someone else then why hadn’t Miss Tomoe linked back up with the other person before lunch? No, Mami Tomoe had come here alone, which meant she’d had no-one to show off for. And yet she’d still gone for the reckless approach. That was suggestive.
“Would I be right in guessing that means you tried to figure out a better idea yourself and wound up drawing a blank?” Homura asked her.
Miss Tomoe bristled briefly, but she deflated after seeing Kyoko’s look. “Okay, okay, you caught me. I looked up stuff before coming here and checked the local library for anything useful but got nothing. Can you believe the library still doesn’t have any computers? Either way, the problem is that there’s basically only three or four ways into Hinamizawa because of the mountain passes.”
“I am unsure whether I should be relieved or worried a better strategist than I could not think of anything either,” Homura admitted. “I had wondered about just trying to skirt the outside of the area by following some of the local roads.”
“That would have been a better plan if I’d thought to bring a bicycle,” Miss Tomoe said ruefully. “But I am unsure it would have worked anyways. I did have a thought like that, so I made sure to take a bus here that would take one of those outlying roads. No luck.” She sighed. “I suppose it makes sense. If there were Wraiths that far out, those roads wouldn’t have regular bus routes.”
Homura had to admire Miss Tomoe’s faith in the bureaucracy, naive as it was.
Miss Tomoe started to speak up again after a moment, but noticed something and fell silent. Lo and behold, it was the waitress returning with their order. Homura took her coffee soda and started to see just what it tasted like, but was distracted by their waitress failing to conceal a start. Huh. The green-haired girl wasn’t looking at them, so what had caught her attention? Unfortunately it would have been impolite to look.
Homura’s curiosity was answered irregardless a minute later, as the waitress returned to the next table down with three customers in tow. Fair enough; perhaps they were regulars. It made sense, given their ages, especially if the boy was being a protective senior; he was clearly older than the other two. He was quite probably older than Homura herself, at least physically; he looked like the boys the next grade up, or maybe a grade or two past that. His clothes also stood out; the red tank top and long cargo shorts somehow looked even scruffier than Kyoko’s, uh, well-worn hoodie and shorts, despite being in better condition. The two girls with the boy, meanwhile, looked young enough that Homura wasn’t sure they were in middle school yet. The pink shirt and jeans shorts one was wearing were overshadowed by her appearance – her hair was blond verging on white and her eyes were visibly reddish. Something about the combination seemed unpleasantly familiar, though Homura couldn’t immediately place where she’d seen it before. The other girl was much less striking and frankly looked something like Homura might have a couple of years before contracting if she’d had the good sense to get rid of those twin braids before she could. Ugh. Homura still couldn’t believe she’d ever thought that hairstyle were a good idea. Admittedly Homura wasn’t sure she could pull off the princess-cut yamato nadeshiko look the way this girl did. At any rate, those three were vaguely interesting but not Homura’s problem; she took a bite of her order.
Or rather, Homura started to until the second of the two girls turned and started to stare directly at her.
It was impolite to stare, Rika knew, but for a moment she just couldn’t help it.
“What’s wrong, Rika?” Satoko asked beside her.
“I’m not sure anything’s wrong, actually, sir,” Rika thought out loud. “It’s just… something caught my eye, that’s all.”
It wasn’t anything about any of the three girls she was looking at, per se. Yes, the blond one was wearing the kind of curled drill pigtails that spoke to either an upper-class upbringing, an unusual amount of work each morning, or more likely both, but that hadn’t been what had caught Rika’s eye, and frankly the other two basically looked like ordinary schoolgirls.
The way that O-Madoka had draped her arms around the black-haired girl and was hugging her protectively? That got Rika’s attention.
“Have we met?” the girl seated next to the girl Madoka was draped around asked them, apparently blind to any subtext.
“Not that I know of, no,” Keiichi responded from next to her. “Of course, I’m still pretty new around here – Rika, Satoko, do either of you know these three?”
“Negative.”
“No, sir.”
“Well, I suppose we can fix that,” Keiichi decided. “I’m Maebara. Keiichi Maebara.”
“Satoko Hojo.”
“Rika Furude.”
The blond girl’s eyes narrowed slightly at Rika’s own introduction, interestingly. Rika was frankly lucky to have caught it, she’d only noticed because she’d been looking that way for a second, but it was there nonetheless.
“I’m Mami Tomoe,” the blond-haired girl introduced herself a moment later.
“Homura Akemi,” said the black-haired girl who Madoka still hadn’t stopped hugging, “and this is Kyoko Sakura.”
“Dude!” waved the red-haired girl who was apparently Kyoko Sakura a moment later, after she finished taking a large bite out of her dessert.
“Do you three want to share our company for a meal?” Mami asked, to Rika’s considerable surprise. It wasn’t exactly the polite thing to do, after all, and this Mami struck Rika as more likely to care about politeness than most.
“Well, when three pretty girls ask me to keep them company, I suppose I can’t really say no, can I?” Keiichi grinned, wearing the same smile he always got right before he earned his way into a club punishment game. “Rika, Satoko, do you mind?”
“Perhaps it would be for the best,” Rika said thoughtfully, mindful of the seventh person at the table.
"Well, if you two are for it I don’t see why not,” Satoko concluded.
“There’s no establishment rule against that, is there?” Rika asked Shion.
She wasn’t actually going to call Shion by her name, no sir, not today. Nothing against Shion, but Keiichi didn’t know that Mion had a twin sister yet and Rika wasn’t going to pass up that source of entertainment, especially not considering that Keiichi was terrible at keeping his thoughts off his face. His confusion had already been evident from the moment Shion had shown up to lead them to a table. Admittedly, it could blow up in the worst way, but that wasn’t new in more ways than one. There was a reason Rika sometimes described herself as killing time until the end of the world, after all.
“No,” Shion denied.
“Then it’s decided,” Miss Tomoe stated decisively. “Here, let me switch sides. Better to keep a young man on the other side of the table from the older ladies, just so he is not Tempted, yes?’
There was a little more reshuffling than that; the other two girls over there – Homura and Kyoko, yes? – switched their seats as well. By the looks of things, Rika suspected that Homura and Mami were not on the best of terms.
Rika herself claimed the seat closest to the window on what was now their side, with Satoko on her left where Miss Tomoe had been and then Keiichi closest to the aisle. They ordered, and while Shion took the order back to the kitchen Rika took the chance to take a closer look at their new acquaintances. Miss Sakura had red hair similar to Rena’s but darker; under the present lighting she almost looked like she had streaming flames instead of a ponytail. Her clothes were also weird. They were quite shabby – they reminded Rika of the types of clothes the three Great Families collected for charity periodically – but they were also just weird, what with that hooded sweatshirt thing Miss Sakura was wearing. Admittedly it looked Western and Western fashion took a few years to get this far out, but still. It also had to be quite hot in full summer weather. Miss Akemi, meanwhile, looked… well, to be honest, not that different from Rika herself, except for the red ribbon she was wearing as a headband. And the clothes. It was like Miss Akemi had gone for looking as indescript as possible. Miss Tomoe, on the other hand, stood out in more ways than just her hair; she was dressed up almost like some of the women the club sometimes saw out on the town in Okinomiya, though exactly what fashion the other girl was going for Rika couldn’t tell. Something new out of Tokyo, no doubt. She would ask Rena about it later; her father was a fashion designer, he would know even if Rena didn’t. The other thing that stood out about Miss Tomoe was that she was the only one of the other girls with much of a chest, like the Sonozaki twins had and Hanyuu had and like Rika was going to have if she ever managed to live past her twelfth birthday. (Or so Rika hoped. She was really tired of being treated like a kid, after all.)
At the moment, Miss Tomoe was also scribbling something on a napkin. After a moment she finished and pushed it over the table.
“When you called yourself Rika Furude,” the older girl asked, “by any chance did you mean Furude like this?”
Rika looked at the napkin. Sure enough, there was her family name, written just as it should be.
“Yes, sir,” Rika confirmed. “How did you know?”
“Actually, that is a good question, Mami Tomoe,” Homura spoke up from the other side of the table. “How did you know that?”
“Wait, are you telling me you two didn’t think to look that up?” Miss Tomoe retorted, turning to face the other two girls on the other side of the table. “Okay, I’ll admit I wouldn’t have been surprised if one of you didn’t think of that piece of research, but I’d have expected one of you two to think of it. Probably you, Miss Akemi, you always tended to be well-prepared.”
“I checked the local geography and the news reports,” Miss Akemi responded. “I am not sure why I would have run into a reference to a Furude family.”
“Didn’t think to check the society pages?” Miss Tomoe said, with the slightest trace of a smirk. “When I was checking the area it mentioned that Hinamizawa was effectively run by three prominent local families – the Kimiyoshi, the Sonozaki, and the Furude. The Great Families, as they’re apparently called in local parlance.”
“This is true, sir, though there’s admittedly not much of my family left these days,” Rika admitted.
“Not much” was an understatement, really. To the best of Rika’s knowledge all of the branch family had died in the war, and Rika’s parents had died from a terminal case of not listening a couple of years back… well, “couple of years” as the era passed, anyways. Really, Mom, Rika thought, you were tangentially involved with a research program you’d come to believe was shady and you didn’t expect them to kill you if you got in the way? But they were dead now, and as an only child that meant that Rika was to the best of her knowledge the last surviving member of her family anywhere. Well, unless you counted Hanyuu.
“So… Miss Tomoe, I think you said your name was?” Keiichi said from beside her. “I’m curious now – why were you looking up the area anyways?”
“I’d heard the area was quite pretty at this time of year and we had a couple of weeks off school for reasons so we all came here to take a look for ourselves,” Miss Tomoe answered.
“Yeah, and more importantly there’s supposed to be these strange occurrences in the area and we wanted to check them out,” Miss Sakura blurted out beside her. “We honestly weren’t entirely sure it was safe, but if you’re from Hinamizawa itself it can’t be too dangerous, eh?”
“I’m not sure I would quite use the word safe about Hinamizawa this time of year, sir,” Rika muttered darkly in spite of herself.
Nobody else caught it, though, for good or ill.
“Hinamizawa is a nice place, you should be able to stay for a couple of weeks if you need to,” Satoko said brightly.
“Well, if you can find a place to stay,” Keiichi laughed. “My family weighed visiting overnight when Mom and Dad were considering moving here, we wound up renting a room here in Okinomiya overnight for that reason.”
“Oh, we’re good there,” Miss Sakura laughed. “I’m used to camping anyways, and we weren’t sure we wouldn’t need to hike the mountains for a day anyways. Homura here brought gear for us two; I’m guessing Mami did the same.”
They thought they might need to hike the mountains? Okay, that’s kind of confusing, Rika thought.
“I did, though I’ll admit I was hoping not to have to resort to that,” Miss Tomoe confirmed.
“It is probably for the best that you didn’t try to take the mountains by foot,” Satoko laughed. “The workers who run the forest preserve do not seem to care as long as you respect the trees and avoid cutting them down, but I hear that people who walk through unwarily sometimes fall victim to… traps.”
Satoko was bragging, of course, but Rika frankly wasn’t about to spoil her friend’s fun.
“We should probably run this by Mion and have her check with her family just in case, sirs,” Rika pointed out. Admittedly it made sense that she had to be the voice of reason here – Keiichi was still a newcomer, and while Satoko was technically older than Rika that didn’t take into account the better part of a century of relived experience. Rena would probably have caught the issue, but she wasn’t here.
“Hmm,” Satoko thought out loud. “That is a good point, actually.”
“Mion?” Miss Tomoe asked from the other side of the table.
“Mion Sonozaki,” Rika explained.
“From the third Great Family?” Miss Tomoe prompted, catching on.
“Heir to the family,” Rika confirmed. “She goes to school with us.”
“I see,” Miss Tomoe nodded. “My research pointed out the Great Families and their names, but not their current members.”
“Well, it’s not exactly like it’s going to be hard to talk to Mion and get her to make sure it’s okay for our visitors to stay,” Keiichi grinned. “When Mion said she was helping with one of the family businesses today, I didn’t expect her to mean she was working as a waitress here.”
Heh, Rika thought amusedly, there it is. Though admittedly keeping her friend in the dark had sounded like a better idea before three newcomers had mentioned they wanted to visit Hinamizawa for a while. Should she bother to speak up now?
“Ah, Mion,” Keiichi said as events made any of Rika’s thoughts moot. “Apparently these three girls sitting with us are looking at visiting Hinamizawa for a few days.”
“Can you contact a certain family member and tell her that we have some guests who would like to stay in Hinamizawa for a few days, sir?” Rika asked Shion, smiling innocently – Shion was smart, she’d know what Rika was really asking. “Nipaahh~,” she added smilingly, part puppy-eye manipulation and part injoke. Also part cover story for Shion, at that.
“I think that can be arranged,” Shion replied, winking quietly at Rika as she took their orders.
The table was quiet for a bit after that, probably because everyone on the other side of the table was busy eating. Miss Sakura stood out – it sure looked to Rika like she was trying to eat like a lady but wasn’t really used to it. She was also eyeing their side of the table… and now that Rika thought about it, it was pretty obvious what was going on, wasn’t it? Kyoko seemed to have the same look on her face that Mion and Rena got around Keiichi. Hopefully that wouldn’t turn out to be a mess. Miss Tomoe was also eating more formally, but to her it came much more naturally; the way Miss Akemi was eating, somehow, felt ridiculously controlled. It was like how Satoko ate when she didn’t trust everyone she was sitting around, which admittedly wasn’t all that often these days. Of course, today she was going to be eating with three visitors…
Their own orders arrived shortly – around the same time that Miss Sakura spilled something, leading to a farcical sight as she tried to politely eat the food off the table – and they started to eat as well. Lo and behold, Satoko was eating almost like Homura across the table; unless Rika was very much mistaken, Homura had caught that as well. The other side of the table also all noticed Keiichi’s eating habits, or perhaps more accurately couldn’t help but notice; the newest member of the Games Club had a very teenage boy sense of table etiquette.
Eventually they all finished up and started to pay the checks. Except something seemed to have Miss Sakura’s hackles up…
“Oi! My good sir,” she said, eyes pointed firmly at Keiichi. “Are you really going to just leave all that perfectly good curry on the table? You shouldn’t waste food, you know!”
Sure enough, there were a few bits of rice and vegetable left in the bottom of Keiichi’s bowl.
“Eh. I figured I could eat all of it when I ordered, but apparently not?” Keiichi shrugged. “It means I spent a little more money than I needed to, but I’ve been careful with my allowance this week.”
Miss Sakura visibly twitched at that.
“I mean, if it bothers you, you could always just finish it yourself!” Keiichi teased Miss Sakura. “Wouldn’t be an indirect kiss at all…”
Miss Sakura tried and utterly failed to suppress a blush at that, though Rika wouldn’t have been able to peg it the second source of embarrassment if she hadn’t been watching the other girl earlier. Really, she shouldn’t have been able to catch onto these things at all, not at her physical age. Whoever kept killing Rika had much to answer for. Well, okay, that and Hanyuu actually answering her questions, but really now. Meanwhile, Miss Sakura positively froze for a few seconds. That was surprising to Rika, actually – Rika would have expected the other girl to just leave the food be rather than succumb to the implication of an indirect kiss. There was something more to that dislike of wasting food, wasn’t there? Rika’s impression was reinforced by how Miss Sakura finally resolved the probable cognitive dissonance – she poured some water from her glass into Keiichi’s unfinished bowl, washed the remains of the curry with it, and promptly wolfed down the remaining curry bits – sacrificing the sauce, no less.
“Uhh…” Keiichi trailed off beside Rika, shoe firmly on the other shoe now.
Oh, Keiichi was in for it now. Satoko wouldn’t let up on him for a week. As for Rika herself, she suppressed the urge to grin at a fellow Games Club member losing. No, this called for something better, and making it too obvious would mean the game was up for the foreseeable future. Instead Rika reached up and gently patted Keiichi on the head – well, as best she was able, anyways. Which was better than she might have, since Keiichi had slumped in his seat a bit at Kyoko calling his bet. On the other side of the table, Miss Tomoe had this wickedly polite smile on her face. Miss Akemi, meanwhile, was either completely unimpressed or very good at keeping a deadpan impression. She swiftly flagged Shion down for the two checks, which the six of them promptly paid.
“I wonder,” Miss Tomoe said as Shion started to walk away. “How long will it take before the Great Families give their approval for our visit?”
“Probably tomorrow, sir,” Rika answered.
“I thought that might be the case,” Miss Tomoe nodded. “Where, then, should we stay for the night if we want to be polite?”
Rika thought about it for a moment. “I think you could probably stay on my family’s property for the night, sir? It's not like my parents are going to bother us. If you are not welcomed, I can apologize to Mrs. Sonozaki for my presumption.”
“I think that will work for us, yes,” Homura spoke up.
“Right, it’s decided,” Keiichi said decisively beside Rika, clapping his hands impolitely as he stood up and started heading for the door.
Well, when he put it like that… the rest of them followed suit and headed out the door for where the Games Club had stored their bikes. Rika couldn’t help but swing her umbrella on the way over; sometimes her body needed to show its age, sadly.
“You brought an umbrella?” Keiichi asked her.
“It seemed like a good idea, sir,” Rika smiled sweetly. A lie, that. Most of the time Rika liked summer weather because unlike everything else the thunderstorms were unpredictable, but today was June 4, and Rika had seen the clouds before heading over. As it was, by her assessment there was at least even odds a thunderstorm would sweep in in a few minutes.
“That’s Rika-chama for you,” Satoko laughed – she’d noticed Rika grabbing an umbrella when they’d left the house and promptly grabbed one herself. “She’s known as the village weatherman for a reason, you know.”
“Perhaps we should make haste to Hinamizawa, then,” Miss Akemi stated, a bicycle in hand. Which was interesting, actually – Rika hadn’t seen her untying it. Where had she been keeping it?
“Wait, you two brought bicycles?” Miss Tomoe asked the other two newcomers.
“Yeah?” Miss Sakura said. “Homura had the idea and managed to find these two.”
“Now that I think about it, it would probably have been a good idea, wouldn’t it?” Miss Tomoe sighed. “I suppose I can’t tease you now about not researching the Great Families.
As it is… would you three happen to know a bicycle shop nearby?”
Rika did, fortunately – actually slightly cheaper than some of the other local places, actually, since it was a money-laundering front for the Sonozakis. The bikes weren’t great, admittedly, but they would do, and Mami apparently could afford it. From there it was just a matter of whether they could get across the mountain before the rain hit. Rika had her doubts, but frankly it was worth the attempt.
The answer, as it turned out, was in fact no, though luckily it was mostly rain and not lightning. It was still too heavy to keep going for long. Luckily, they found a place to pull over before the road got too slick for the bikes, where they promptly huddled under the three umbrellas they’d collectively brought. There was some consternation at who would have to pair with who, and not just from the question of who Keiichi would be paired with; eventually, Kyoko paired up with Mami, Keiichi held up Satoko’s umbrella, and the girl who looked so much like Rika did the same for her.
Rika eyed Miss Akemi as they stood and waited for the worst of the rain to pass.
Had Miss Akemi always been wearing those clothes today?
There was no denying it now, Homura thought.
Something was wrong about Hinamizawa.
It wasn’t the people, at least as far as Homura could tell. Admittedly sometimes you couldn’t tell, but Mr. Maebara had seemed fine, and Miss Furude and Miss Hojo – the latter of whom apparently lived with Miss Furude – had invited the two, er, three of them over and made dinner for them. Miss Furude even offered to let Homura, Kyoko, and Miss Tomoe stay at her place overnight while everyone sorted through the formalities of informing the other Great Families about new visitors.
No, the issues were more subtle than that.
Like Homura’s clothes.
She’d arrived in Okinomiya in a casual outfit, having concluded that her school uniform might draw too much attention when she was planning on arriving with Kyoko on Saturday morning. It was something reasonably bland, unlikely to stand out and draw attention. She hadn’t changed clothes since. And yet… well, when she looked down she was wearing something completely different. Not quite her Puella Magi outfit, but something that could only be described as a slightly simpler version of it, with the white-patterned blouse, the black skirt, and the argyle leggings. Naturally, once she’d gotten a chance to haul it out she’d checked her luggage; Homura had found that the other two casual outfits she’d brought had changed to another copy of the same. Weirdly, the school uniforms she’d brought were unaffected. Since she’d been using her shield for storage, she’d also helped Kyoko by storing her sparse possessions for her for the time being, and those were weirder: the Mitakihara school uniforms she’d gifted Kyoko were also untouched, just like the hoodie and shorts Kyoko was wearing, but now there were also three dresses there similarly reminiscent of Kyoko’s transformation. Homura couldn’t just check for Miss Tomoe the same way, but she didn’t need to; after all, the clothes Miss Tomoe was wearing had morphed just like Homura’s had, including a corset that rather stood out relative to the villagers’ clothes.
Regrettably, Homura had not been the one with the bright idea of trying a proper transformation just to make sure it still worked. That had been Miss Tomoe, who quickly realized that most if not all of her abilities simply weren’t functioning. Likewise for Kyoko, which frankly made it rather strange that Homura could still access her shield at all.
Somehow it did not strike Homura as coincidental that they’d run across a foursome of yellow gymnastics ribbons on the way over to Miss Furude’s residence.
They’d perched around the TV after dinner at the house where Miss Furude and Miss Hojo lived, watching some variety show that was apparently Miss Houjou’s favorite. Homura found it… inoffensive. On the one hand, it was a variety show and those were reliably boring. On the other hand, it wasn’t one of the handful of programs that Homura had seen far too many times over the last… few years wasn’t really the right term but Homura couldn’t think of anything better. The only thing worth noting about the TV show, really, was how old it looked. Not necessarily because of its apparent oldness in and of itself, in Homura’s opinion. It looked like something out of the end of the Showa era (the 1980s, by the Western reckoning she saw sometime online), but then so did everything else around here, including the TV set itself and the honest-to-goodness landline phone. It was technically noteworthy, but it wasn’t new. There was a nostalgia to the program, though, that Homura would not have expected. It reminded her of the shows her father had put on when she was very young, back before he’d shipped her off to Catholic school. Still, basking in that fleeting feeling wasn’t enough to actually make the program fun to watch. Honestly, Homura wasn’t entirely sure that Miss Hojo wasn’t the only person here who actually enjoyed the program. Kyoko had been visibly bored even before excusing herself to head outside for a minute, and while Miss Tomoe’s upbringing meant she was far too well trained to let it show Homura suspected she was feeling the same way. Even Miss Furude was barely watching the screen, to Homura’s vague interest – interest fueled by how Homura had seen Miss Furude sneaking looks at her a few times.
As Homura watched, the show wrapped up and cut to the ending credits, and Rika promptly got up and turned the TV off.
“Aww, Rika, it’s only ten!” Miss Houjou whined. “Tomorrow’s Sunday, can’t we stay up another hour.”
Miss Furude just turned and stared at Miss Hojo, her expression reminiscent of a schoolteacher’s disapproval.
“I know, I know, we need to keep up good habits,” Miss Houjou sighed after a moment.
Rika’s stern expression softened, and the two girls broke into laughter a moment later. Not a concession, Homura noted silently as the TV remained firmly untouched. An injoke, then?
“Let’s get out the spare futons for our guests,” Miss Furude said, getting up briskly and heading for what was probably a closet.
“That will not be necessary,” Homura spoke up, drawing an elegantly raised eyebrow from Miss Tomoe. “Well, at least not for Miss Sakura and I,” she added a moment later, “Mami Tomoe here can speak for herself. But the two of us were expecting to need to stay outdoors, so we brought camping gear with us. It is a bit wet to stay outside, I suppose, but sleeping bags work perfectly fine indoors too.”
Miss Furude just nodded, after a moment. “There should be room around the edge of this room, or if you want there’s the concrete porch outside.”
“I will go see where Miss Sakura headed off to,” Homura said, bowing slightly and turning for the door. There was more than one reason to go check, really; Homura wasn’t sure she could get to sleep yet, and heading around the woods for a moment might help with that.
Homura stepped out the front door and looked around. Hmm. That was the most likely Kyoko spot, right there, but no Kyoko. Not there, either. Where was—?
And that was when Homura heard it, a familiar voice on the wind.
“Help!”
Homura considered heading over directly, then thought better of it. Reinforcements were always useful.
“Something seems to have happened to Miss Sakura,” she said as she headed back inside. “Can I get some backup here?”
“Ah, yer Miss Sakura probably fell for one of the traps, didn’t she?” Miss Hojo chuckled as she got to her feet.
“Traps?” Homura asked.
“I warned ya about them earlier, didn’t I?” Miss Hojo explained as everyone in the house promptly headed out the door. “Woods are infested with ‘em.”
She seemed entirely too happy about that, somehow.
“Right, that sounds like she’s in the trees over that way,” Miss Houjou said, pointing to a spot somewhere ahead and to the left.
They followed Miss Hojo for a minute until they arrived at a small clearing, wherein Kyoko was suspended in midair, wrapped up in a bamboo rug that had been attached by ropes to a tree limb.
“Help! Ah, hey, there you guys are,” Kyoko said, wriggling. “I’ve been calling for you for twenty minutes! Mind helping me down?”
Miss Hojo, Homura saw, had the most enthusiastically gleeful smile on her face. “I’ve dealt with these before, let me help ya,” she said. “Everyone else, stay where you are. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was another one of those around here.”
It took a couple of minutes and the careful help of both Homura and Miss Tomoe to get Kyoko back safely on the ground, but Miss Hojo managed.
“See?” she said when she was finished. “You three said you were originally thinking about walking the mountains here? Lucky you ran into us so we could warn ya, eh?”
“I suppose you have a point—” Miss Tomoe started to say, but Miss Hojo interrupted her.
“STOP RIGHT THERE! Don’t move back! I recognize that spot now!”
Miss Tomoe heeded her, stepping forward and only then turning back to look. It didn’t look off, to Homura’s eyes, except for a few more leaves than were to be found on other parts of the path. Hmm. Then again, that was more leaves than someone would expect to see during the summer, wasn’t it?
“Follow me back, everyone,” Miss Hojo smiled, turning to head back to the small house.
It took a little while for everyone to get ready for bed, after that, since everyone was coming down from an adrenaline high. Well, almost everyone. Miss Hojo had gotten less worked up than everyone else, and once the two girls who actually lived in the house got out their futon she was out like a log in a couple of minutes. Which was usually Kyoko’s forte, though a few years on the streets had taught Homura’s friend not to sleep too deeply, but tonight she’d needed to pace a few minutes right in front of the house before finally coming inside and managing to get to fitful sleep. She’d also abandoned her original plan to sleep outside, not quite trusting the surroundings, and instead perched herself in an out-of-the-way part of the house. Miss Tomoe? She’d made a cup of tea to soothe her nerves, albeit by the other girl’s admission not a very strong one, and then stayed up for twenty minutes before finally laying down in her sleeping bag and drifting off.
And Homura? She’d been laying in her sleeping bag for an hour, to no use.
It wasn’t just that trap that was worrying Homura – although the fact that there were traps so close to these girls’ house and it didn’t seem to bother them was odd. Still, it was nothing compared to how the three of them had somehow had their outfits changed and yet couldn’t transform. Or just how old everything seemed to be around here. Or just the look of the place in general. Miss Furude was supposedly the heir of one of this village’s leading families; why was she living in a place like this? Were her parents like Homura’s, the kind to ignore their daughter and ship her off where they wouldn’t bother her? But if so then why was she still here, as opposed to shipped off someplace like that execrable place Homura had been sent to for a few years?
And, now that Homura looked around the room, another question came to mind. Why was there what looked kind of like a traffic sign in the corner of the room, weirdly reminiscent of Kyoko’s spear? And why hadn’t any of them noticed it earlier?
Homura concluded this was too interesting to just ignore, and got up to take a look at it.
She was, she noticed shortly, not the only person who had just gotten up.
“Mii~” Miss Furude murmured as the girl noticed Homura looking at her. “You are up too, sir? If you’re having trouble finding the bathroom in the dark, the stairs to the second floor are over to the left.”
“No, not that,” Homura whispered – though part of her whispered that she might need to make a detour there now, now that Miss Furude mentioned it. “I was looking at that pole thing over in the corner. I do not remember seeing it there before?”
Miss Furude turned to look at where Homura was gesturing towards. “Huh, I… guess that was always there, sir? I don’t remember Satoko bringing it home with her, and I wasn’t really paying attention to the furniture when I moved in here. How strange, how strange.”
Moved in here, huh? Well, that might explain one thing that had been on Homura’s brain.
“When you say you ‘moved in here’, I take it you mean that you did not always live in this house?” Homura asked softly, careful not to wake anyone else. “I suppose I had wondered about something like that. Miss Tomoe said you were a member of one of the most prominent local families, but this house seems small for such a family to be living in.”
“Ah, well, th-that’s a little private…” Miss Furude stammered – and then as Homura watched her face seemed to get more serious, far too mature for her age. “But if you’re going to be around here at this time of year, I suppose you need to know, don’t you sir?” she continued in a sad whisper. “I used to live with my parents up in my family’s main house up the hill, but then they died a while back, sir. Actually, it was actually exactly two years ago in a couple of weeks, they died on the night of Watanagashi – that’s the big local summer festival. This house is better sized for me, so I’ve been living here ever since – I was alone, at first, but then Satoko moved in after last year so that’s nice.”
Well, that explained the mature expression. Homura could sympathize far too well, though she kept it off her face – she had far more experience than she wanted with losing people she was close to, these days.
“I suppose I should say I am sorry for your loss,” Homura said softly, her mask ever so slightly broken, “but between you and me somehow I always felt those words were hollow compared to the kinds of tragedy that elicit them.”
All Miss Furude had to say to that was a soft “Mii~”.
“Although,” Homura continued as her brain caught up to one niggling point, “I am curious. Why did you say I will need to know this? It is an awfully private thing to bring up, and I imagine you would not do so without need, but I cannot see why it is needed.”
“Because,” Miss Furude said after a moment, “you said that you were coming here to investigate things, sir, and my parents were not the only people to die on the night of Watanagashi these last few years. There were a couple of workers on the dam, and then Satoko’s parents, and then mine, and then Satoko’s aunt dying and Satoshi transferring. Better you hear it from me now, sir, than find out on your own later, I think.”
“I see…” Homura trailed off quietly. “Thank you. Now… I believe you were mentioning the stairs to the left heading up to the bathroom? It sounds like a better idea the longer I keep standing.”
It was politeness, not strictly need, and thus Homura did not need Miss Furude’s parting gesture to find those stairs. While she was in the bathroom she took out her shield and used it to stop time, just to check. It, at least, still seemed to be working, though moving through the time stop was ever so slightly sluggish compared to what Homura was used to. Still, working sluggishly was still working.
When Homura headed back downstairs, Miss Furude had gotten back into her futon. More comfortingly, if also more annoyingly, Kyoko had started to snore. Typical. Homura got back into her sleeping bag and once more tried to drift off to sleep.
Before Homura could actually do so, she heard soft footsteps once more. Opening her eyes just a crack, she noticed Miss Furude head over into the kitchen and get a bottle out of one of the lower cupboards. From her angle she could barely see what kind of bottle it was – some kind of cooking wine, by the looks of it.
As Homura watched, Miss Furude carefully got several ice cubes out of the freezer, placed them into a glass without making a noise, then quietly poured a little of the wine over them and diluted it with mineral water. Then she placed the bottle back where it belonged, silently padded over to the window, and started to drink under the moonless night.
On the one hand, Homura couldn’t really approve – not just because Miss Furude was too young, but also because Homura had very carefully stayed away from alcohol because she suspected that if she started to drink she would never stop. On the other hand… given what the other girl had just told her, while Homura didn’t approve she could understand. Oh, could she ever understand.
At least the other girl had only had to live through her loved ones dying once.
Homura finally started to nod off to sleep after a while, eyes finally closing as she drifted into troubled dreams.
It had been the better part of a day since Rika had bared more private than she would ever have ordinarily talked about to someone who was still nearly a complete stranger, and she was still unsure of the decision.
She hadn’t meant to, not at first, no. But this Miss Akemi had started talking about things, never noticing the friendly goddess perched behind her, and the goddess had looked up at her words and stared at Rika pleadingly. And after a moment Rika had found the words spilling out. Maybe in the end she had just needed someone who she could unburden herself to, at least for a little while. Her friends all knew the ugly story – well, except maybe one, had Keiichi learned this time around? – and talking about it would just make everyone sad for no good reason.
Rika perched herself on the windowsill of her house, glanced at the stashed wine bottle in the cupboard, then decided against it. She’d gone for it three days in a row, after all, best not to overdo it. Besides, the sun was still up.
It would have been easier today, Rika had to admit. Satoko had headed off with a couple of the other kids their age after meeting them at the market, and their guests last night had moved on. Godmother Sonozaki - as Mion's grandmother always insisted Rika call her - had consented to their stay; from what Rika had heard they had set up a camp in one of the old abandoned houses on the south side of the village. Heh. It had been a while, but Rika seemed to recall that one of those had been where the minister’s grandson had been found all those years ago. Would they wind up in the same place? Moreover, from what Rika had gathered those three were also going to be temporarily transferring to the school, so she’d be seeing them soon enough for sure. Possibly quite a bit, since three of five members of the Games Club had already agreed to offer them honorary club membership while they were here; that just left Keiichi and Rena, plus the three new girls agreeing.
But no, there had been one main reason Rika had taken advantage of last night and the night before and apparently it hadn’t changed: Hanyuu still wasn’t around. Rika was starting to get worried about that, she had to admit. It wasn’t like Hanyuu to spend the better part of four days away from Rika.
Rika turned back to the window and gazed out on the sunset. It was a pretty sunset, prettier than usual. The only thing distracting from it was the soft noise she was hearing from behind the house.
After a moment, it occurred to Rika that she recognized that noise. She didn’t have to worry about where Hanyuu was anymore.
Instead she had a new question. Namely: why was Hanyuu crying this time?
Rika padded around to the back, eyeing the surroundings carefully. There she was, her oldest friend – and, to be honest, surrogate mother as well, especially these days – sobbing behind the corner of the house.
Rika waved uncertainly and headed over to put a comforting arm around Hanyuu – or at least as close as you could get when dealing with someone without a physical body. Hanyuu “pushed” her away, though – apparently Hanyuu wanted to be on her own for a moment. So Rika sat down in the dirt and waited.
After a little while Hanyuu stopped crying for a moment, as if starting to speak, and then started again. Something was apparently too much for her.
“Can you tell me why you’re crying?” Rika prompted her after a moment, hoping that would be enough to let Hanyuu master her voice and speak.
“It’s— it’s those girls…” Hanyuu said slowly after a moment, between sobs. “I… I… I can’t really describe it… it’s them… and the other one with them… and it’s all going wrong…”
One part of the blubbering in particular caught Rika’s attention. “The other one with them… you mean Madoka?” she asked, curiously.
Hanyuu flinched at the mere mention of the name. Hmm. Perhaps asking Hanyuu to formally receive Madoka is not the best of ideas right now, Rika thought, and knew as soon as she had that it was an understatement.
But why, then, would Hanyuu be afraid of three teenage girls and one polite visiting goddess?
Perhaps Rika had accidentally mumbled that thought out loud, because immediately afterwards Hanyuu turned to look at her.
And suddenly, for a brief moment, Rika had the impression that it was not Hanyuu looking at her at all.
It was like she was looking at something else entirely. Something that was similar in shape but weird and angular.
“There may come a time where you must remember, if you are unlucky,” said the thing sadly, tears somehow streaming from the jaggedness where its face should have been, “but not today.”
Then it was gone, and Rika was once again looking at Hanyuu’s familiar form.
She backed off after that, and indulged in the dash of wine after all before turning on the TV.
After a little while, Rika headed over to where they kept Satoko’s medicine syringes and claimed one for herself. Just in case.
Hopefully it was an unnecessary precaution, but false alarm or no that had not been a good sign. That had not been a good sign at all.
It had been quite a few rolls of the dice since Rika had last succumbed to the Syndrome, and she intended to keep it that way.