The Tree Under the Moon

Everything is so faded-- Homura said not to let go or he'd be frozen in time, so Mamoru doesn't let go. Given the dating comments Makoto was making a second ago, he may be somewhat self-conscious about not letting go; he tends not to prolong contact in general, so that's also kind of offbalancing--

--but the effects of Homura's personal Timestop Judge Field are fascinating enough to distract him very quickly. Somewhere between the gates and where they are now, he pulled his henshin back for the security his mask and cape give him, but it's so silent and unassuming a shift that it easily happens while Homura's looking elsewhere.

"It's like the color's bled away," he says, then listens to the uncanny quality of his voice. "Um. So I expect this is what you did when those ghosts shredded around me in the Labyrinth. You could pull some amazing pranks like this."

Slight cough. "Not that... that's... a good use... or anything. Sorry. Questions. The only things I can think of are probably things you don't want to tell me. What was the glass thing that fell on the pavement when we came out of there? That you used on the hurt girl."

Homura is also somewhat self-conscious about holding hands, yet practically this is what she needs to do if Mamoru is to escape the crowds along with her. It probably wouldn't even cross her mind if not for the dating comment, but it's too late to not cross that bridge.

She's used to the visual effects of the timestop, but Mamoru's comments on them are still a welcome distraction.

"I'm still not sure why the colors fade like that. Maybe light travels differently here, or maybe it has something to do with the magic."

As Tuxedo asks about the ghosts from the Labyrinth, Homura looks back at him, grinning slightly after the prank comment. She does not confirm or deny the possibility of playing pranks with this. "Yeah. This is my power. I can stop time, and I can also rewind it to a certain point." She looks forward again, trying to find a way to navigate the scenery without bumping into anything. "Well actually, that's not quite true anymore. I /used/ to be able to rewind things. I can't do that anymore. Something is blocking my power, and I don't understand what."

"Generally though we shouldn't squander our powers. That glass ornament you saw is called a Grief Seed. It extracts the darkness from our Soul Gems, the source of our power. In very simple terms the Grief Seed allows us to continue using magic. It also prolongs our life."

Mamoru gives Homura the tiniest quirk of a smirk in answer to the grin, but delicately leaves the subject of pranks thereafter.

The navigational difficulties, he might be able to help with if he knew where they were going-- "Grief Seed. Haka-san or the other girl, I can't remember which, said you were dead. I was listening from above you. Especially when you three vanished, I thought maybe you were ghosts yourselves."

There's a brief pause, and the wryest tone in the boy's voice. "And then I thought I followed you into the spirit world. I suppose I have fewer questions than I ought: things were very wrong in there, but as you said it's a trap for the unwary, it's self-contained. You can only get out by slaying its maker: speed the caster, speed the spell. When you kill them, they leave Grief Seeds behind..."

His voice trails off. After a second's thinking, he queries, "You can sense them? How would I know if I were nearing one? What are the signs or symptoms?" A pause. "And where's the tree?"

Homura Akemi's expression takes on a much more solemn tone. Her eyes are hidden under her the shade of her bangs, and her mouth is a tense flat line.

"It's a figure of speech. We fight Witches. When we win, we live and gather a Grief Seed. When we lose, we die. Puella Magi live on borrowed time."

She pauses for a moment before she continues, "Though, there's a little more to it than that. It wouldn't be incorrect to refer to us as liches, due to how our powers work. The Soul Gem is our phylactery." Turning back to look at Tuxedo Kamen, she adds, "Not many Puella Magi like to think of themselves in that way. They prefer to think of themselves as magical girls."

Homura listens to Mamoru's recounting of details. She flips her hair with her free hand as he recounts. He seems to have it about right. At the topic of sensing Witches, she answers, "We can feel their despair. Their sadness has a magical presence that we can feel, and track."

"I don't know if you can detect them like we can, but if you ever start getting depressed, to the point of wanting to completely give up on life, that's a pretty strong indication of the presence of a Witch."

Homura keeps dragging Mamoru towards a place where there are fewer people. In fact, it's almost empty. There are a number of trees here. She points to one and says, "It's that one over there. You can often see a red cloth tied up in the higher branches."

The tall youth's eyes are bright and sharp behind the glimmering outline of his mask when she looks at him, and his face is solemn. "I don't think I can sense them like you can. I'll pay attention to what I notice on that front the next time."

The next time? He did say he'd help if he could. There's something in his voice that's altogether too thoughtful for someone entirely unfamiliar with despair, but it's only thoughtful, not worried.

At least with legs as long as his, it's not especially draggy dragging! He keeps up easily, trailing along behind Homura, cape drifting behind him. When the tree's pointed out at him, he glances up into its branches, but with the color as leached as it is, it's hard to see anything that should stick out as brightly as red. "So noted. Will you warn the others who use it that I might be about sometimes? --I mean, you can have my number, you know who I am, but you said it's the place 'we' use."

Finally, there's something hesitant in his manner again, in his voice. "And-- I really don't have any special power. Parlour tricks and kendo, and I guess leaping tall buildings in a single bound, but all that's really good for is clutch plays and getting people out of the way."

A beat. "And running from danger, of course."

Homura doesn't answer Tuxedo Mask right away. As she leads him towards the tree, there is a determination in her walk. Purpose carries through her hair as it swishes back and forth, each half of her locks swaying against her back as she walks. When she gets close to the tree, she pauses.

"I don't want you to worry about having any powers."

Homura stands next to the tree, continuing to hold Mamoru's hand. She reaches behind her shield, and pulls out a small pistol. "My magic... has almost no offensive capability by itself. Stopping time, in of itself, causes almost no damage. I have to use conventional weapons if I want to actually fight. I rely upon guns and explosives as much as I do my magical powers."

She puts the gun away, and releases Mamoru's hand. She spends a moment looking at him before she unfreezes time.

Colors return to their usual brightness. The moon hangs overhead, and the stars shine down upon their meeting. Homura's sillouette stands before Tuxedo Kamen, slightly lit from the side by a nearby lamp. Her purple eyes catch a bit of the light, glistening as she looks up to him.

"In that way... I guess we have that in common. We have to rely upon weapons if we want to fight."

She moves both of her hands behind her, shield-hand clasping the other, as she leans towards Mamoru, adding, "Besides, don't underestimate the value of a strong play. Being smart is just as important as having power. I don't think Haka-san and Basu-san would still be alive if you weren't there..."

Homura's eyes smile, though her lips don't. She adds, "I still think you can help, even if you are the gentle, sensitive type."

With his teasing remark tacked to the end there, Homura's still serious; he lets the humor go and watches her silently as she takes out the pistol, as he listens to her explanation. Then she lets go his hand--

--

--he doesn't, of course, notice that time is still stopped for Homura, and it's not until she drops in realtime, for her, that he reacts with an understated startlement to the sudden motion of a breeze through the leaves above them, to the sudden nighttime sounds, the sounds of the carnival air in the near distance, the color bled back into the world. He looks up at the moon and steadies, his own eyes also bright and showing much more than his face.

He looks back to Homura in silhouette, and gives her a lopsided kind of smile. The reassurance is a new thing, the commonality is a new thing. An ally. An ally is a very new thing.

So is a rival in trolling. Tuxedo Kamen grins very suddenly at Homura's last sentence. "Then call me if you need me, but be careful of my delicate sensibilities." He sleight-of-hands, of all things, a calling card and offers it to Homura. It must have come with the pretentious henshin.

Homura's left hand releases the right, and she accepts the card offered to her. She glances over it, studies it, chuckling softly at Tuxedo's joke, before looking back up at him. "Oh, I'll try not to be too rough on you."

In this moment, Homura realizes that it's been a while since she laughed. It's been a while since she even smiled. It almost seems strange, coming from her. She's used to everything being as severe as life and death. The levity is a welcome change.

"Did you get my number the other day? I know Hannah asked for it, but I don't remember if I handed it to you."

Her hand, and the calling card, vanishes behind her shield. When her hand is visible again, the card is gone, replaced by a small strip of paper with a phone number and Homura Akemi's name on it.

"Here. Call me if something comes up. We should keep in touch. More Witches, stronger ones, will be showing up. Also, it's starting to look like there are other threats to deal with that I haven't seen before."

Homura's head tilts to the side, and she asks, "I recall you saying that you had your own mission. Is it anything I could help with?"

New ground for the both of them, it seems: the girl out of time and the boy with no past. Mamoru can tell she wears a mask as much as he does -- and not the one on his face -- but he couldn't tell, if asked, what seems to have caused her to remember it's so. Abruptly he wonders, somewhere at the back of all of his caution and drive, if he should respond in kind.

He takes the number and nods firmly, but his expression is somewhat abstracted-- thinking, examining, coming up empty-handed--

--and then Homura's last question shines a bright light, starkly illuminating his sudden discomfort. There's something behind his mask, yes, but... "It's not something I can share," he says regretfully, glancing away, unable to meet her eyes and sharply aware of the unfamiliar sensation of feeling like kind of a heel. "It's not my secret to tell."

She wants to help him. That in and of itself is cause enough to make him meet her gaze again, and there's obvious gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you for the offer. If I can ever tell, I will, and I'll take you up on it."

Also, she could be the Princess.

Homura watches as Tuxedo Mask's expression changes. She caught him off balance. He can't tell her? Well, that's fine. She has her own secrets to keep from him, and she has good reason for them to. She can only assume that his reasons are just as good.

"That's fine. People like us... need to allow each other to have secrets. It's not like I've told you everything either. Though I would... if it were that simple."

Homura's eyes gaze up to the sky above. The stars shine, yet the significance of the moon escapes her.

"Anyways... thanks for meeting me. I'll tell the others about you, though I'll keep your... sensitive side a secret."

Homura spends another moment looking at Tuxedo Kamen, before half-turning to leave. "I think I should go. Good night, Kamen-san."

She finishes turning around, heading out of the park. She's on her way home.