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Mouikkai Musume Mohitotsu
After weeks of strange dreams about another life, Madoka has a series of encounters with supernatural beings that will change his life.
Author(s): Rellawing | Editor(s): Trismegistus Shandy | 3 Warnings!
Content Keywords | Status: Completed | To Disqus!
MyReviews: 0
Emi and Tatsuo wrap up their date in the arcade. Meanwhile, Madoka-chan has a disturbing vision.

Chapter Eighteen : The Girl Who Learned What It Means To Be Miko
Posted: 2018-09-15 12:40:30 | Updated: 2018-09-15 12:43:04
Words: 5791

Tatsuo walks out of the theatre, his arm in Emi’s. He grins broadly at her and in general.

“I take that big smile to mean that you had a lot of fun.” Emi laughs softly, eyeing Tatsuo.

Tatsuo nods and winks. “It was absolutely amazing! I’ve never had an opportunity to see an idol group performance in person, and it was a great experience,” he enthuses.

“Ehe… I’m happy that you enjoyed it, Tatsuo-kun. I thought to invite Madoka-chan to this performance, but I thoughtlessly set our date for today, not even thinking about the tickets. I really think that this experience would have been great for her, but finding that you’re such a huge fan of AKB48 makes me decide that this was the best way to spend the time.” She smiles.

“Oh? Why Madoka?” Tatsuo asks, squinting one eye with an incredulous expression.

“Why? Because she is a friend, and she’s gorgeous.” Emi grins, covering her mouth. “Perhaps it is best that I didn’t invite her after all, given…” she trails off, looking around. She looks at Tatsuo again. “Never mind that, Tatsuo-kun, why don’t we go down to the arcade?” she suggests.

“The arcade? That sounds great.” Tatsuo smiles. “I was thinking that maybe we should conclude the date tonight at a natural place like a park.”

Emi smiles warmly at Tatsuo. “That is a wonderful idea, but Akihabara doesn’t have much in the way of parks. There are a few walking areas that have greenery but given that it is so late, I question the wisdom of going walking in a park around this time?” Emi laughs, holding up her cellphone to show him that the time is 18:45.

“I expected that. These shows go for a while, but vary.” Tatsuo looks at Emi. “I know what you mean. Alright, I suppose going to the arcade would be best.”

“I can’t stay long, perhaps for an hour,” Emi points out.

“Oh… I understand, Emi-chan.” Tatsuo grins. “It was fun, the time we had so far. I’ll walk you home when you’re ready.”

“That will be unnecessary.” Emi laughs softly. “In any case, let’s go.” She gestures and leads the way to the escalators, and they make their way quickly down to the floor that contains arcade machines. Tatsuo grins as they pass a bank of retro machines and stops to play. Emi giggles and stands, leaning against the machine and watching his progress.

“Awww… it’s been a long time since I’ve played a shooter,” Tatsuo complains, focusing as he opens fire on zombies as they leap at the screen. After five minutes, he runs out of health and the machine prompts him to pay for additional time.

“Oh, you’re not very good at these kinds of games, Tatsuo-kun,” Emi teases him.

“Nah… I just need to warm up! I just got started!” He rolls his shoulders as he swipes a card through a reader and resumes playing. Emi watches, smiling slightly. He continues firing on the zombies that wander onto the screen, and seems to do a little better after being called out on his bad aim. He lasts for another eight minutes this time, until a zombie smashes the screen; rotten smeg and blood roll down the screen as it gnashes at the player.

After a moment, Emi slides a card through the reader on the second player side and lifts the gun, assuming a militant pose. Tatsuo gapes as she takes over the game, and as she plays, she summarily disposes of her opponents, in most cases with shots to the forehead. In a rush, he swipes his card again and smashes the start button on his side and joins in. He manages to shoot a few here and there, but Emi carries him all the way to the end of the stage.

Tatsuo stares at Emi, his eyes wide, and his jaw drops. “I didn’t expect that you’d be a crack shot in these games. Wow, you sure know how to make a guy feel weak.” He laughs ruefully, running his fingers through his hair.

“Oh, not at all! Tatsuo-kun. You’ll get better with practice,” she teases with a grin as she starts the next stage. Tatsuo shakes his head and gasps again as Emi once again leads the way, scoring much higher than he. About halfway through, Tatsuo’s side of the screen prompts him once again to rejoin. He scowls and swipes his card again, and Emi giggles as she continues to fire on the zombies.

After a while, a girl comes over and leans against the arcade machine; she’s wearing a large tan hat, her hair gathered behind her. She wears large sunglasses with a blue dress and a large cardigan over that, its sleeves coming down to her elbows. She has it belted at her waist, brown leather with a gold buckle with hearts on it. It has a fanny pack, also made of the same rich leather. Her hair is styled to show her forehead. She looks at Emi and smiles at her, looking at the screen.

“You’re still amazing, Emi-chi!” she exclaims, claiming her mouth and smiling warmly at Emi.

Tatsuo looks at her and pales. He focuses on the game with extra effort and seems to improve slightly, but after a while he stumbles and zombies savage his side of the screen. Emi laughs softly.

“Oh, it’s nothing! How are you doing, Riri?” she asks with a smile. Riri leans in towards Emi’s ear and whispers.

“Oh…” Emi leans towards Riri’s ear and whispers. Tatsuo watches, blinking at their whispering. They look at Tatsuo after a moment, and Emi blushes, laughing. It’s not obvious, but Riri comes across as being older than Emi, though she doesn’t look it.

“Ah, well. This is Tatsuo-kun, Riri,” Emi introduces Tatsuo.

“Your dirty crow looks interesting,” Riri comments with a soft laugh.

“Eh, don’t say that, Riri!” Emi exclaims, embarrassed. Riri laughs and smiles.

“I’m envious of you.” Riri winks, whispering. “Do you have a moment to play a dancing game with me? I don’t have a lot of time, but I thought it would be fun when I noticed that you are here.” She laughs.

Emi’s lips twist and she smiles and shrugs.

“I don’t have great rhythm, but okay!” Emi makes an okay sign with her hand. “Are you alright with it?” she asks Tatsuo.

“Of course I’d love seeing two cute girls dancing, particularly you, Emi-chan. I can’t say no to that.” He grins.

Riri laughs aloud and shakes her head. “Such a flatterer, your crow.”

“Why is she using that joke now?” Tatsuo asks, looking at Emi. “What did you tell her about me?”

“Nothing,” she replies with a small grin, and leads him away from the shooting bank. Riri walks next to Emi, and her poise and aura put Emi’s own to shame. Tatsuo notices it and shakes his head. Riri looks like an extremely high quality girl, way beyond his level. Even so, he has eyes for Emi, mostly. They reach a bank of dancing games; in the low light they glow magically, and the dancing floor connected to the machines flashes. Riri reaches into her waist pack and pulls out a magnetic card and Emi swipes hers on a magnetic reader on another.

They look at each other’s screens and the song starts, and they start to dance. Tatsuo gapes as he notices that Emi does far better than he expected given her demure response to Riri, but her moves are unpracticed compared with Riri’s. Riri moves with incredible grace. He can’t help noticing it. It’s like the difference between himself and Emi at the zombie shooter, but neither of them misses a step; there is still a quality to Riri’s movement that demonstrates intense practice, whereas Emi is fast and hits the right pad buttons at the right times, but clearly does not know the routine by memory.

When the song concludes, Tatuo cheers, grinning broadly at Emi.

“You’re amazing altogether, Emi-chan!” he exclaims. He notes that they have the same score.

“You still have an amazing amount of talent, Emi-tan! You should reconsider a career as an idol. If you start young, you’ll do very well,” Riri praises Emi.

“I can see it.” Tatsuo’s grin is silly as he gazes at Emi. Emi blushes and laughs, flustered.

“I’m sure I’m not remarkable.” Emi waves her hands.

“I disagree.” Riri grins.

“I’m not interested in anything like that. I’d rather find more interesting things to do with my life.” Emi laughs. “You flatter me, though.” She smiles, bowing.

Madoka yawns as she pads up the hallway into her bedroom. She closes the door behind her, then stretches and looks around. Her jaw drops as she notices that there have been a few changes while she was gone. The bedspread is green with flowers on it. Madoka shrieks as she backs against the door. She looks around with wide eyes and notices that there’s a full body mirror in a corner of the room that was previously empty.

Hanging up on the closet door where her uniform had been is a new uniform. It’s a ridiculously high quality uniform; a dark-pink ribbon hangs over a white shirt with a ruffle at its throat. Buttons go down the front and the sleeves are pleated to be poofy. The collar is crisp and starched. Next to it hangs a black dress with buttons going down either side in front. The fabric is similar to the fabric of her previous uniform but is much higher quality, like corduroy. She notices that there are grey stockings folded up nearby. She doesn’t see shoes, supposing that they will be waiting downstairs for tomorrow morning.

“Oh, Kami… where am I supposed to go?” Madoka gasps, her eyes wide. She looks at her study desk and notices that there’s a manilla folder on it. Madoka sits at her desk, the towel wrapped around her as she looks at the folder. She examines it and notices that it contains a detailed schedule, the school rules and policies, and a map of the campus, with instructions about where to go and when. She peruses the instructions and rules, finding that they’re generally typical, but she notes that there are rules about boys or men not being allowed except during school events that are open to the public.

Tatsuo, Emi, and Riri step outside Don Ki, and around the corner. When they get around the corner, a car pulls in behind them, pulling ahead. It comes to a stop in front of them as crowds of people walk past in the diminishing light. Riri gestures towards the car and smiles. “I understand you two live in Nakano; would you like a ride? My home is on the way,” Riri offers.

“I have it covered, Riri. Thank you.” Emi smiles,shaking her head.

“I’m sure you do, Emi-tan. Lets not trouble your family, since my car is here and you are heading home.” She gestures again with a smile.

“I’d hate to take advantage of you, Riri,” Emi murmurs. “We can take the train, at least.”

“I’d be worried for you if you did. The train is a very safe way of traveling, but I would feel better if I saw you home, Emi-tan.” Riri smiles sparklingly.

“Wow, are you sure?” Tatsuo asks, and walks up to it to open the rear door for them. “If it’s too much trouble, I don’t mind taking the train. I’ll be fine, but I’d look out for Emi-chan.” He grins broadly.

“I trust that you would.” Riri smiles at Tatsuo. “Come along, it is no trouble.” She gestures and steps into the car. She scoots over to the far seat, and Emi climbs in after her, looking at Tatsuo pointedly. Tatsuo blinks and looks at her. I wonder what she’s thinking? he wonders.

Tatsuo climbs into the car last, and closes the door. He finds that he’s seated behind the driver and can’t see him clearly, but sees that he’s a man in a suit with sunglasses. He turns to address Riri briefly. Tatsuo bows to the man, and the man nods as he pulls the car forward.

What kind of person is this Riri girl? Tatsuo looks towards Riri, who smiles and leans towards Emi’s ear, speaking animatedly in a low tone that he can’t make out. Emi looks back at her and laughs, nodding a few times to her, leaning toward her and whispering a reply to her words. And who is Emi-chan to be so casual with someone like this? Is she really… he wonders, staring. It can’t be that she’s…

Madoka sighs and settles down onto the bed, and as she does, she dries her hair with a towel. She yawns and looks at the pillow, thinking about going to sleep. In the next moment, there comes a knock at the door of her bedroom.

“Mistress,” Kozuke’s voice comes from the other side of the door.

“K-Kozuke-san… no… wait a moment…” Madoka gasps, leaps to her feet and vaults to the closet. She slides it open and looks through the clothes hanging up in the closet. She thinks about the clothes. She sees something hanging up that she recognizes: pajamas, in a shade of green that she approved of in the store with white polka dots and cartoon dog faces on them. She sighs and ignores them for now, not certain why Kozuke has knocked.

She picks a sundress instead with giant flower patterns on it in red and orange and yellow. Madoka pulls it on, rubbing her eyes. She looks at herself in the mirror, smiling. It still looks good, but I should probably wear a bra if I go outside in it, she observes. She notes that her breasts are pretty perky, though, and as she turns to her side she smiles at how she looks in it. Oh, Kami… I’m already using the mirror!

Madoka covers her face and sighs. “Mistress? Your food is getting cold. Please hurry,” Kozuke calls through the door.

“Food?” Madoka asks. “Oh! The hot pot! I forgot!” Madoka exclaims. She fiddles with her hair and frowns, seeing how it clings damply to her face, but she still looks cute in the dress.

Madoka chews her lip and walks over to the door of the bedroom, opening it quickly.
“Kozuke-san!” Madoka exclaims, noticing that he’s holding a tray with food on it. He smiles at Madoka.

“Oh, I didn’t expect anything like this,” Madoka gasps.

“I thought that since you are drying up and are likely exhausted, bringing your meal to you would be a good idea. May I bring it in?” he asks her.

Madoka nods after a moment and gestures. Kozuke follows her inside and she steps to the side as he steps to the desk, and lifts the manilla folder with a free hand. He eyes it and smiles, noting the Japanese characters on it.

“Your school information, I take it?” he asks. “Your honored father truly came through for you.” Kozuke grins and sets the tray down, removing a cloth napkin laid over it. He gestures for her to seat herself, and Madoka hesitates only a moment before doing so, blushing as he pushes her chair to the desk and sets the folder to the side.

“Do you require anything else, Mistress?” Kozuke asks her.

“No, I don’t think so. Thank you, Kozuke-san.” Madoka smiles, and thoughts come to her mind of a scene in a posh European-style dining room with Kozuke setting a meal before her. She looks to her side and notices a familiar-looking woman in a maid outfit and an old man sitting at the head of the table with a severe expression. When she sees him in the vision, her stomach flutters. Memories of the people in the scene are faint, but when she looks at the woman in a maid costume, she feels close to the woman, however her name won’t come to her. She thinks of where she’s seen that face, and remembers a cozy kitchen with a small dining table in it. She shakes her head, blinking away the cobwebs in her mind.

“Are you well, Mistress?” Kozuke inquires. “Perhaps there is something I can do for you.” He gestures and after a moment warm air rushes through her hair. He lifts his hand and a comb extends from his hand. She looks over her shoulder at Kozuke, shocked. “Where did that come from?” Madoka asks as he turns her face forward and combs her hair out. She feels a familiar comfortable cozy feeling. There has been a certain amount of distance between them, but she feels… strange.

“It feels… so nice and… and cozy,” Madoka murmurs. “Kozy…” Madoka murmurs as he combs her hair out, wondering at the feelings she has.

“I… have been called so when I was much younger,” Kozuke murmurs, finishing his job on her hair. Madoka looks over her shoulder at the mirror and notices that her hair is dry and looks shiny.

“Who called you that?” Madoka asks.

“I don’t recall. My memories slide away from me as time passes.” He looks away. “It only comes in glimpses now and again when I’m reminded of…” he trails off. “I hope you rest well tonight, Mistress,” he murmurs as he turns and strides to the bedroom door.

“Oh… you too, K-Kozy…” Madoka calls after him. For some reason, that nickname seems right for him.

“Thank you, Mistress,” Kozuke murmurs, his expression turned inwards. He pauses a moment, and then opens the door, bows and leaves the room.

Why do I feel connected to him as well? Madoka wonders.

The world is monochromatic. She sits up, moaning softly. She screams at the pain that spasms throughout her body, but what hurts the most is her head. She reaches up, running her fingers through her hair and rubbing her temple. She blinks, realizing that her hand is wet and warm. She gasps and stares at her hand, shocked. She can’t see the red of the blood, but she knows somehow that her hand is covered with thick blood. She whimpers softly and notices that her legs are pinned by a beam. She grunts and struggles and yells as splinters lodge in her legs as she wrenches her legs free from the shattered beam.

She stands slowly and moans again as the world shakes violently around her. She falls to her knees, feeling more intense pain in her knees this time. She looks around and shakes her head until her vision clears again. She feels incredibly sick as she looks around, seeing other people’s bodies. She doesn’t recognize them, but something occurs to her as her eyes fall on the ragged bloody priest’s robes and she notes the bodies of women in robes that are familiar to her. She looks down to herself and sees that she’s wearing the same clothing. “That’s right… I’m… a miko,” she murmurs, and after a moment she averts her eyes, turns her head towards the rubble, and loses control. She retches and vomits violently. Her eyes fall upon the mess she has littered the ruin of the shrine with and there is something about it that is extremely disturbing to her, but she can’t think of what about the vomit disturbs her so.

She grits her teeth around the foul taste in her mouth, and forces herself into action as she runs through the ruin, touching the bodies of the others. She touches them all, every one that she can spot, sometimes struggling with rubble, but every time she touches a body she finds it is cold. She knows distantly that this means that they’re dead. She cries softly, not understanding why. She knows these people and works with them every day, but she can’t remember their names, their faces. She cries, dashing the tears away with her bloodied hand, and desperately runs through the ruin, finally moving on outside. The whole world, it seems to her, is in ruins. Buildings are heaped, wrecked piles. Faint memories of the buildings as they were come to her mind, but the memories hurt her head. She feels her heart pounding hard as she forces herself to move on up the street. Now and again she sees others, but their faces are dispirited.

She runs past someone curled up on the pavement, noticing that it is a child. She smiles and the girl looks at her with a horror-filled expression. “Priestess…” the child gasps. She smiles reassuringly to the child and runs her hand gently over her face, unintentionally smearing blood on the child’s face in her effort to comfort her.

“It… it will be alright. W-where are your parents?” she asks softly.

“M-my mommy… I don’t know...” She realizes the child is a girl, no older than seven or eight years old. She looks over the student, checking her body, and realizes the child is clutching her stomach. When she tries to move her hands, the child cries and moans, and the miko chews her lip, wincing. She puts her arm around the child’s shoulder, unable to tell what color her hair is. It seems light in coloration. She looks around and gasps as she sees other bodies around under rubble. The miko moans and rushes from one spot to another, struggling fiercely to lift rubble where she can. Her desperation, or perhaps a blessing, grants her the strength, and she notices that the bodies of the students are all warm, though they look severely hurt. She frees them one by one, periodically turning to vomit from time to time as the need overcomes her.

They look at her with dazed expressions filled with fear. When they come to themselves, they cry uncontrollably. The first girl returns to her side and she tugs on her torn skirt. The miko looks down at the girl and chews her lip. She runs her hand over the girl’s head and pets it comfortingly. “It will be okay…” she says, her voice echoing in her ears. “Take my cellphone, child… call emergency… call for help… I will do what I can.” She reaches into the sleeve of her top and hands the girl her cellphone. She doesn’t remember what color it is, but she sees the flowered pattern on the cell phone wallet case wrapping around it. The girl groans and clutches her stomach, taking the phone and nodding, crying. “Good girl,” the miko tells her softly. She stumbles onwards, desperately spotting more bodies under the rubble; to her relief they’re all alive, until unfortunately she spots one who’s been crushed. She lifts the beam on the body of the child and cries as she realizes that this body is cold. She sobs softly as she turns the body over, and turns and vomits as she sees the face of the child.

The child is a cute boy with an adorable face, his clothes disarrayed. She touches his face and shakes her head, hot tears falling from her eyes. She stumbles to her feet.

“M-my best friend… Priestess… please save…” the girl from before trails off. Other students gather around her, seeking her comfort. They look up into her eyes hopefully, desperately. She smiles warmly at them, but her eyes focus on the girl who she has given her phone to, and she notices that the girl is unconscious. She reaches down and checks her pulse, and she screams as she notices that her pulse has stopped. “No!!!” she screams, then moves the girl into a prone position on her back and begins to perform CPR, pressing on her sternum. The steps come to her mind, but no matter what she tries, after fifteen minutes of attempts, the girl doesn’t start breathing. The miko cries and the students around her cry loudly, realizing what has happened. The disheveled children crowd around her and she sobs as she wraps her arms around all the injured children, hugging them tightly to her.

The miko turns her head and gestures desperately for children to move. They stare at her, shocked. Eventually she firmly parts them, and leans down to vomit again. The vomit in her mouth tastes coppery and hot and terrible. She presses her hands to her stomach. The children around her tug on her skirt, looking worried for her. She smiles at them and gives them an okay sign. The children smile up at her, hope in their eyes. The miko looks around her and falls to her knees amidst them. They embrace her, clinging to her for comfort.

Madoka wakes up screaming, feeling sweaty. Her sheets feel like they’re sodden. She puts her hands to her face and cries. After a moment, her door slams open and Mana comes running in. She wraps her arms around Madoka, comforting her. Madoka sobs and sniffles as the dream fades. Is that what it means to be a miko? Madoka gasps.

Mana strokes her hair, petting it comfortably. She sits down next to Madoka, holding her. “What happened, Madoka?” she asks gently.

“A-a bad dream… oh Mama, oh Kami!” Madoka cries out, hugging her like one of the children had hugged the miko in her horrible dream. She sobs against her chest.

“Ara… I’m so sorry you had a bad dream, Madoka. What happened?” she asks softly.

I don’t know what to tell Mama… Madoka cries softly.

“I-it was terrible… people died,” she gasps.

“Died? What kind of a dream was that? What kind of a person dreams of people dying? Maybe doing all of this spiritual sort of thing… could it give you horrible dreams?” Mana trails off sadly, questioning.

“I don’t know why I dreamed of it. I… I don’t know what to say,” Madoka murmurs.

“If you think it’s related to your spiritual abilities, maybe we should tell Kozuke-san that you need to quit,” Mana suggests.

“No, Mama… I want to be a miko… I want to be stronger. I want to help her…” Madoka sobs softly.

Mana cradles Madoka gently, comforting her as much as she is able. She rocks her in her arms and strokes her back and head. Madoka leans against her and cries softly. After a moment or two, Madoka nods off in her arms, crying softly.

“If you feel you need to do it, I believe in you,” she says softly to Madoka.

“I’m so sorry, Goshujinsama,” Kanna murmurs as she sits in front of Madoka in a dark place, looking like a patch of color in nothing.

“Kanna?” Madoka asks, feeling disembodied.

“She is a noble spirit, one that we give our devoted service to,” Kanna responds, looking sad.

“A miko?” Madoka asks.

“Yes, a miko, Goshujinsama,” Kanna adds, nodding her head vehemently. She fades away in motes of green light to her side, motes of blue gather and Aoi takes a form. Madoka feels Aoi wrap her arms around her; even though she has no body, she feels the arms around her.

Goshujinsama. I’m truly sorry for your pain,” When she seems to step away, it seems as though Aoi’s eyes shimmer with unshed tears. “The vision was horrific. That is what the real world is like. It’s full of pain and misery. People die for no apparent reason.” Aoi says bitterly.

“What the real world is like? The world is a bright and wonderful place,” Madoka responds, her voice full of emotion.

“I think it could be, if one is fortunate;” Aoi says softly. “Don’t worry about the vision you saw. Don’t think on it; smile and be happy. I want you to become stronger to protect yourself; don’t be concerned with us, Goshujinsama. Make the most of your opportunities. We believe in you,” she murmurs softly.

“There is yet another spirit who wishes to help you and serve you Goshujinsama,” she continues. “When the moment is right, Kanna will pass it on to you. There are many souls somehow connected with you. We pour our faith into the miko.” Madoka wonders at those words whether or not Aoi is as emotionless as she pretends.

Madoka wakes up the next morning, her sheets still damp. She looks around and doesn’t see anyone else. She chews her lip, thinking. Her pajamas are damp like her sheets, particularly in her armpits. She looks at her smartphone to check the time, and notes that it is 05:24. Madoka yawns and stretches, realizing that she should be getting ready for school soon, but she decides to sit at her desk; picking up her manilla folder to move it, she sets it to the side, eyeing the food tray that Kozuke brought to her last night on the floor by the desk. She pulls her laptop from its cubby and folds up its screen. She presses the power button and waits for it to boot up.

The Windows logo appears; she waits a bit longer and the welcome screen comes up. It scans her face and mentions that it does not recognize her face. Madoka winces and laughs. She hasn’t used the computer since she changed. She sighs and enters her pin number, and it plays the sign-in chime. Madoka opens up her browser and chews her lip, worrying it uncertainly. She searches for ”mikos,” but she doesn’t find anything helpful. She thinks about her dream and searches for “miko hero.”

She paws through the results. She sees fiction work, cats of course, since the Internet is full of cute cats. Madoka smiles a little as she clicks on one of the videos impulsively and giggles softly as she sees them playing and scampering. After a while she closes the window and looks through the search results. A Facebook page of some person around the world whose name is Miko. Madoka shakes her head and giggles. She sees a lot of entries, going from page to page, but nothing she sees draws her attention. She sighs after a while, turns her computer off and stands, stretching again. She chews her lip and pads over to her towels; throwing them over her shoulder, she opens her door and heads to the bathroom. After that dream she needs to wash. A bath again might relax her, but she doesn’t have time for that.

She quickly undresses, sits on the bath stool and runs the hot water from the hand sprayer to rinse off the sweat. She runs her loofah over her body after soaping it up, rinses it and sighs when she finishes. She turns off the water and checks her hair. She looks at the hair dryer that only her mother uses in the house, but she turns it on and laughs softly as she turns it toward her hair. She runs a brush through it and nods as it dries, and she’s able to style it somewhat. She frowns looking at her reflection, deciding that others have done better styling her hair for her than she has done. She has much to learn about how to make herself look better. When she looks acceptably nice and is dry, she walks into her room with the towel wrapped around her body and closes the door.

She walks up to the uniform anxiously. She goes into her closet and removes a bra and pair of panties, both matching white lace over blue. She pulls the bra on and as she was shown, she pushes her breasts into the cups, examining herself and noting how her breasts look better when they’re pushed from the sides into the cups. She lifts one leg at a time and pulls on the matching panties, blushing and smiling, at her reflection. She takes down the button-down shirt with ruffled sleeves and buttons it on. It looks cute. She takes the dress and pulls it on over the shirt, buttoning it down the front.

Madoka picks up the grey knee socks, then sits down and pulls them one at a time up her legs, rolling them on. She stands again in front of the mirror and grins, looking at the ribbon, thinking that it’s something like a tie. She struggles with it, pulling it under her collar and forward, and looks down at it, not sure what to do. In the corner of her eye, motes of green sparkle and Kanna appears. She looks at her in the mirror as the girl with blonde twintails reaches around her and hugs her for a moment. Madoka smiles, surprised.

Goshujinsama. I will not waste your energy. Turn around. Please allow me to help you,” she murmurs. “Aoi might struggle to try to show you how to tie your bow.” She smiles wryly and turns Madoka. She reaches for the ribbons and gently ties them for Madoka, a caring expression on her face. “I hope you slept well, Goshujinsama. I hope you feel better and energetic for your day.”

I could show you how to do it. Stupid Kanna. Tell her not to make assumptions about me, Aoi says in Madoka’s mind.

“You know I heard you just fine, Aoi-chan.” Kanna grins and finishes tying Madoka’s ribbon, then winks at her as she turns her back towards the mirror. “Do your best today!” she cheers for Madoka behind her and dissipates into green motes. Madoka looks at herself in the mirror, noting that the ribbon looks amazing. Kanna has tied it beautifully. When Madoka wasn’t looking, she even styled her hair, making it look great as well, sweeping her bangs to the side, putting her hair behind her ear on one side. It’s untied, but somehow it stays in that style when she shakes her head. Madoka feels overcome by her emotions for Aoi and Kanna.

I apologize if this chapter triggered you. I hope you don't hate it if it made you cry!!!

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