Chapter Text
Homura’s world was covered in static. She was on the ground in a ditch half filled with water, the destroyed remnants of a city she couldn’t recognize stretching out into the distance. Rain poured from the sky, the droplets sticking to the lenses of her glasses. A bizarre gem was in her hand, coated with a darkness so thick you could see it through the haze. She turned her head.
There was a girl beside her, form obscured by the same static as the rest of the world. Homura could not remember a single thing about her. The color of her eyes, the color of her hair, the sound of her voice, absolutely nothing. All Homura knew about the girl behind the static was how important she was to her.
She began babbling, the words making no sense to her. Something about… Becoming monsters and ending the world? Homura was torn from her nonsensical rant when the girl rolled over and touched something to the jewel in her hand, the darkness sliding off it like oil. A spike of sheer dread struck Homura as the girl began to speak. Grimly, Homura accepted her duty, reaching into her shield and…
Homura jolted awake, eyes filled with unshed tears. That dream again, she thought as she rubbed the tears out of her eyes. Homura’s nightmares had been getting worse recently. The early afternoon sun drifted through the windows, the soft sound of the train’s movement following along with it.
A voice rang out over the train’s intercom, “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for riding with us today. We will be arriving in Shibuya shortly. This is the last stop for this line…” Homura stopped listening after that.
Stepping out into Shibuya Square was overwhelming for Homura. She had spent most of her life in cramped hospitals and schools. Being around this many people at once made her anxious. She did her best to not panic as she walked through the square, weaving in between people in an attempt to not bump into anyone. She focused on the directions her phone was giving her to distract herself from the crowd.
Suddenly, Homura noticed an app appear on top of her map. It was red and black, with a pattern resembling an eye. She tapped at it to try and make it go away, all that happened was that it got bigger, covering most of her map. There’s no way she got a virus on her first day in Tokyo… right?
Click.
The world stopped dead around Homura as the color drained from her surroundings. Her eyes darted back and forth, trying to make sense of just what was going on. She could feel her heart thump painfully in her chest, as her breathing grew more erratic. What in the world was going on here!? The sound of crackling fire drew her eyes to the center of the square.
A pillar of blue flame burned in the square, surrounded on all fronts by people frozen in time. The flames coalesced into a vague, draconic figure. Black scales with a light grey underbelly, its webbed wings were a light purple. Fine fabrics were draped over its form, a veiled, conical hat resting on its head. Twin molten gold pinprick eyes stared at Homura, gleaming alongside a flash of shiny obsidian teeth.
Until a moment later, when a gout of surreal, multicolored flame consumed the figure.
And Something stood in its place.
It was massive, standing easily half as tall as some of the buildings surrounding Shibuya Square. Its frame was cloaked in cloth blacker than the night. It stood on a single point, its body under the cloak almost resembling a top. The thing’s bone white hair was pulled into twin braids, which was further connected at the ends by a series of bright, blood red pins. Atop its head sat a witch’s hat, its brim made of a spinning vinyl record, revolving endlessly.
Static slithered its way into the corners of her vision.
The monster just stared at her. All it was doing was staring at her and she felt like she was going insane. All its eyeless gaze contained was despair. Despair that squeezed its way under her skin and wrapped its tendrils around her throat. Homura couldn’t breathe, could barely even think under the sheer weight of the Thing’s presence. Not even her vision blurring with tears was enough to save her from thewitchthesymbolofherfailureawishunfulfilledherdespair-
Click.
Homura was back in the square, back in reality. It took everything the girl had to not crumple to the pavement and sob.
The rest of her journey from Shibuya Square was a haze. Her steps were shaky and she still hadn’t quite regained control of her breathing but she was managing. She was still trying and failing to process her… vision from the square, and it was eating at her from the back of her mind. Homura grasped a street sign and took a deep breath, she needed to focus and get where she needed to go. She knew she needed to find Sakura-san’s house, but she wasn’t given an exact address.
The small city street she had found herself on was packed with buildings, all built close together. Homura could’ve asked the police officer she saw earlier but…
“Damn brat! I’ll sue!”
There was no chance she’d do that, not after her last encounter with the police.
Homura settled for just checking the nameplates on the houses as she went, she’d find the place eventually that way. It also helped that that method didn’t force her to interact with anyone. As she walked, her mind couldn’t help but drift back to her episode in Shibuya Square.
Homura had been having strange visions and nightmares like it since the accident 2 years ago. The doctors at the hospital had always called them “hallucinations” and “trauma induced nightmares” but she just knew they were more than that. They were far too vivid to be mere hallucinations, the emotions attached too real and painful to be just nightmares. Homura had proof that the dreams were memories, that she existed.
That was what it always came back to, what her nightmares revolved around. The Girl in the Static. Homura had absolutely no idea who she was, or what she did. Her appearance was coated in static, her voice garbled into nigh incomprehensibility. All Homura had left to attribute to her were the vague feelings that remained in her mind.
Homura was certain the Girl was real though, there was no doubt in her mind. Her hand reached out and lightly grabbed one of her twin braids, moving it so she could see its tip and the bright red ribbon tying its end. The ribbons were all she had left of the Girl. She woke up in the hospital after the storm with them, and the clearest memory she had of the Girl featured the ribbons.
She was being comforted in that memory. Her tears blurred her vision even more than the static already did, but even that couldn’t stop her from carving this moment into her mind. The girl was right in front of her, tying Homura’s hair into braids from the other side of a hug and Homura could do nothing but drink in the sensation. It made her feel warm and safe and loved, in a way she couldn’t remember feeling anywhere else. The red ribbons laid beside them, on the bed they were sitting on, a shock of red in a sea of featureless static.
It was probably sad that something as simple as a memory of being held was so precious to her.
Her search took a while, but she eventually managed to find the house. She probably spent two whole minutes standing there trying to work up the courage to ring the bell. Homura breathed deeply, reached out her hand, and rang the bell…
Bing-Bong…
Nobody answered the door. She had read the nameplate, this was the “Sakura” residence, she’d found the right house, right? Did she make a mistake somewhere? Had she read the address wrong and ended up in some random neighborhood in Tokyo? Had Sakura-san changed his mind and decided not to house her anymore?
“Hey kid!” A voice from behind her called out. Homura barely kept herself from shrieking as she turned on her feet, finding a delivery guy.
“Oh sorry, didn’t mean to spook you! Anyways, are you looking for Sakura-san?” He asked, looking genuinely apologetic.
“Y-Yes…” Homura mumbled.
“You won’t find him at his house at this time of day. He’s normally at his café, Leblanc,” He showed her the address, “You should be able to speak with him there.”
“Okay… Thank you.”
The delivery man cheerfully waved at her as she left, making her way to café Leblanc.
Homura made sure to take in her surroundings as she entered the establishment. The place was compact, with only 3 booths on her left and the bar table on her right. It had a homely feel, with white walls outlined by wooden beams. The floor was a combination of white patterned tiles near the booths with hardwood flooring around the bar table. Behind the bar table sat multiple shelves, each lined with jars full of ingredients. A bell attached to the door rang as she entered. A news station was playing on a TV stationed behind the bar table.
“A public transit bus was driven down an opposing lane with its customers still in it! The citizens can’t live in peace if this keeps up.” The show’s host said.
“How frightening,” An elderly man sitting in one of the booths said.
“What could be going on? Didn’t something similar happen just the other day?” The elderly woman sitting in the booth with him replied.
A man was sitting on a stool in front of the bar table, reading a newspaper. He mumbled something to himself about the crossword puzzle he was in the middle of, before he finally noticed Homura’s presence.
“Oh right, they did say that was today,” he said, getting up from his stool and leaving his newspaper on the counter. At that moment the elderly couple got up and left, leaving their payment on the table. The man, who was seemingly the store manager, thanked them as they left.
“Four hours for a single cup of joe,” he mumbled to himself, before turning to speak to Homura directly.
“So you’re Homura?” he asked.
“Y-yes, that’s me.”
“I’m Sakura Sojiro, you’ll be in my custody for the year,” he replies, “I was expecting a more unruly kid, but appearances can be deceiving.”
“U-um, I-”
“Follow me.” he finally said, his tone brokering no argument.
Homura swallowed the lump in her throat, and followed him up the stairs. She found herself in a lofty attic, coated in dust. It would’ve been much more spacious if not for the assortment of old things filling out the space. There were trash bags, cardboard boxes, a desk covered in a plastic tarp, alongside other such things. A small, couch-like bed filled out the far corner, with a thin mattress on top. No sheets or pillows either.
“This is your room,” Sakura-san said.
All in all, the place was very messy. It was more than Homura expected she’d get (more than she deserved) but it would do. She wasn’t the type to complain, especially as she was a guest in Sakura-san’s café.
“I’ll at least give you sheets for your bed and your luggage is in that box in the middle of the room, but otherwise it’s on you to clean the place up, alright?”
“I understand Sakura-san, thank you for letting me stay here.” Homura replies. Sakura-san hummed to himself at her response.
“I’ll be leaving after I lock up each day. You’ll be alone at night but don’t do anything stupid, I won’t hesitate to throw you out if you start causing trouble.”
“I won’t.”
“Good, now then…” Sakura-san trailed off at the end, seemingly thinking of what to say next, “I got the gist of your situation.”
Oh no. Homura’s grip on her bag tightened as she tensed up, she couldn’t look him in the eyes, they were firmly directed towards her feet.
“You had an episode and attacked a man who was walking home. You got expelled from your school and now you're here on probation. I’m more understanding of conditions like yours than most people will be, but if you can’t control yourself I’ll toss you right out, understand?” Sakura-san’s eyes were steely as he explained this to her.
Homura wanted to argue, wanted to explain herself. She wanted to tell him that the man wasn’t just walking home, that she was trying to protect someone, trying to be a good person. That she wasn’t unstable, that she certainly was not crazy-
“Yes sir, I understand.” She said instead, eyes stinging with tears.
“Just don’t be a pain in the ass and everything will be fine,” Sakura-san sighed. “We’re going to your school tomorrow, so don’t stay up too late,” The man started walking down the stairs, “What a waste of a Sunday.” he sighed to himself as he left, leaving Homura alone in her room.
She sighed and grabbed a brush and dustpan from the top of a nearby box. She couldn’t even begin to process today, so she might as well make herself busy.
Homura laid on her new bed, staring up at the ceiling. She had exerted herself a lot cleaning the room earlier, her heart felt like it was sputtering in her chest. It was disappointing that even after her surgery she was still so weak…
Her heart eventually settled down, as the emotions of the day started to sink in. That dream, that… horrible vision in Shibuya Square, her new residence. Homura was so overwhelmed by everything that happened so far. Exhaustion quickly followed suit and she found herself slowly drifting off to sleep.
Homura’s eyes opened to find an unfamiliar ceiling, a deep velvet blue ceiling. Homura tried to push the covers off of herself, but found that she couldn’t move her arms. They were crossed over her chest, almost painfully so. Her head ached a little as she took in her surroundings. The walls were that same velvet blue, but were covered in a plush like material. The bed was that same tone, covers and all. Slowly but surely, Homura’s mind put together what this was.
A padded cell.
Homura’s breath was ejected from her lungs as she forced herself to her feet. Looking down, she saw what her arms were caught in.
A straitjacket.
No no no no no no no no no no no no-
Panic began to bleed into her mind as she tried everything in her power to escape the jacket. She thrashed and pulled, all to no avail. Hyperventilating, Homura desperately searched the room for any exit, or anyone. She had barely escaped being committed after the case, the thought sent a railroad spike of fear down her spine. Finally, she caught sight of the door, that same infuriating velvet blue with a small, barred window at around eye level. Homura tried to run to it, but she stumbled and planted face first into the ground. The plush floors softened her fall. It took her maybe a full minute to get back to her feet with her arms in the straitjacket, her heart pounding all the way. Homura was going to call for help once she peeked through the bars, but what she saw stopped her dead in her tracks.
Three people stood past the door. A pair of young girls, obviously twins, stood in front of a desk. They both wore velvet blue dresses over black undershirts, dress shoes and socks and velvet blue nurse’s caps with a gold cross emblazoned on them. The one on her right wore her platinum blonde hair in twin buns, had a medical eyepatch over her right eye and wore a sneer on her face. The one to her left had her hair in a low braided ponytail, that same kind of eyepatch over her left eye and a more taciturn expression. Their visible eyes burned gold, almost unnaturally so. Sitting at the desk behind them was an even stranger man. He was almost grotesque, with bulbous eyes, a nose longer than her forearm and a perpetual hunch. He wore a well tailored suit and white gloves.
“Greetings Trickster…” He said, meeting Homura’s eyes, an unkind smile on his lips.
“Welcome to my Velvet Room.”