Akemi's Nutcracker

Part 2

Madoka Kaname is impossibly suspended in the air, caught dashing to Homura's apartment in the shabbier part of Mitakihara City. Unaware of the hour she had spent frozen, the captured thought within her mind was of finagling some information out of the lithe, raven-haired girl who snapped her back to reality a week ago at school. She was still curious about the strange shock that had befallen her on the tour through the school, and how Homura had known just what to say to her. Madoka considered it one of the smaller of many mysteries surrounding her classmate, however, and was much more interested in what kind of person she was. From the day she arrived in Mitakihara Middle School, Madoka had quickly learned of Homura's ridiculous proficiency in every subject. Whenever she was called to the board in Algebra, regardless of how many other students had been hopelessly stumped, she always produced the right answer quickly and efficiently as if she had written the intimidating problem herself. She seemed to be able to decipher the most complicated of syntax and grammar, her writing was always praised although upon request never shown, and Homura had proven herself a stellar athlete by breaking all the held school records in the gym class. Madoka was utterly confounded as to how a mere eighth-grader like herself had more prowess than any fourteen year old in an unremarkable public school had any right to.

More elusive, however, was how despite the way Homura entertained every student in the school and all knew and chattered endlessly about her was that she apparently had never had any friends in all her time there. Madoka would have believed it was because of the rampant rumors featuring Homura doing everything from jumping from buildings to outsmarting the science teacher to making furniture appear out of thin air, but Homura blatantly had no problem with them, engaging in even the most vapid of gossip when solicited and refusing to even deny the outrageous hearsay. When confronted, she simply said she had no need for companions and she resolved the accusations of cheating in school among other things with a dismissive flip of her waist long hair. No matter which angle you looked at the conundrum from, Akemi Homura, the girl who excelled in everything and had captured the whole student body's interest, had no desire for social connections.

With the exception of Madoka, however absolutely insane that was, for some ungodly reason.

The biggest puzzle that Madoka had endeavored to solve when she began her trek across the city by following Homura home was how in the world she was supposedly worth the near-perfect student's time, and why she cared to give it in the first place. Madoka knew she was painfully average; although Homura often complemented her performance in school and her personality, the pink haired girl couldn't possibly see what about her was so special that she merited such praise from someone who was far more deserving of it than herself. Homura could have had her pick of friends from any grade, almost all of them much more interesting than plain Madoka, but for some reason, the lilac-eyed girl's interest had focused itself on possibly the most average, pointless person in the school. The slightly more pessimistic corner of the pinkette's mind wondered if it was precisely how boring she was that had caught her attention, but based on how easily she dismissed the prospect of initiating friendships with anyone else and how efficient she was in everything she did, Madoka had quickly buried the prospect. After all, she cherished Homura's simple but pleasant companionship, despite how undeserved it was. Madoka was completely befuddled, however, by what sharp, simple, pleasant Homura even cared so much about her. Just before being frozen in time, Madoka had tried to run through a list of her qualities in an attempt to demystify Homura's friendship with her.

Madoka didn't think herself very beautiful; her complex that she was just a taller elementary schooler plagued her mind and brought an inch of shame to her expression. Her pink eyes were rather dull and had unremarkable watery color in her opinion, and her hair only went to her shoulders. She believed she had little in the way of a figure, compared to Hitomi, Sayaka, and other girls who had developed more than she had. The pinkette mentally scratched that off the list; if Homura was interested in having a pretty friend, then she would've been better off mingling with someone else. After all, someone with such pretty black hair, deep purple eyes, and athletic body couldn't have such a terrible eye for beauty to mistake ordinary Madoka for the nicest looking girl in school. There had to be a better reason.