Story 16: Sunset

"So this is it?" Chiaki asked, closing the door.

"Yep." Midori nodded. "This is our flat!"

"It's pretty nice." The short haired girl walked into the living room after leaving her shoes by the door. The flat was sparsely decorated, but what was there warmed the room. Midori blushed, waving the compliment off. Most of the decorations were from Mirai, she said, her eyes darting between a few wall hangings.

She had lost Mirai, only to discover her in Chiaki's barrier. It was a miracle that she managed to save both her and her sempai, let alone one of them. Her heart smiled at that thought, a silent, sincere thank you going out to the Blessed Lady.

"Speaking of, where is she?"

Midori spun around, hands still behind her back, a smile on her lips. "She went shopping for food. We're low."

Chiaki nodded, smiling ruefully. "My stomach doesn't appreciate hearing that. Do you have any food in this place?"

"Well then! Lets go check to see what we have!"

The two magical girls entered the kitchen. Cupboards were opened, fridges too, all for the lookout on what they could consume. Midori was the one to find something.

"Looks like all we have is pancake mix. Hey, want me to make you some pancakes?" Midori flashed a grin, turning to show off the box, and herself. She even shook the box a little as a tease.

Chiaki stared at her, then at the box, the smile turning into a ghost, her eyes partially glassing over. Something was drawing her attention elsewhere, and from how her face looked, that something was unpleasant memories. But then she smiled again, shook her head, and stepped toward Midori.

"Nah, Midori," Midori's heart skipped a beat. Chiaki didn't want her pancakes, but she also said her first name in an intimate manner. Conflicting emotions rose in Midori's bosom. Chiaki grabbed the box, her laid back eyes staring into Midori's confused ones. "I'll make it for you, okay? I promise I won't burn them."

Midori blinked, then giggled, feeling her cheeks heat up. "You have never cooked once when I was around. Usually it was me that cooked something. Can you even do it?"

"Yeah, I can. That one instance I wasn't able to, and for the rest... I just didn't, since someone else had. Now, gimmie the box, and I'll treat you to some Chiaki Matsuda Cooking."

Midori blushed. "Al-alright, treat me to your cooking right now." She let go of the box. Chiaki thanked her, and then said she could use some help getting the table set up. Midori did so, with happiness coloring her movements.

The two made some halfway decent pancakes, Midori's trust in Chiaki's word not misguided. They sat at a round table, plates empty except for some crumbs scattered. All the windows were open, letting in the warm spring air. The sun came in as well, brightening the room up considerably. Overall, the atmosphere was utopic.

Midori was happy. She had Chiaki, Mirai and a month's rest ahead of her. Of them. Maybe her feelings would finally be answered, despite that being a far away illusion. Her eyes darted over at Chiaki, seeing her lean back in her chair, staring out the window. Those purple eyes, often times dead from the constant let down that life gave them, sometimes determined, but only once did they reflect the abyss, and never did they reflect any love for her.

Those purple eyes pivoted to stare at her. Midori blinked and looked at her plate, feigning a search for any considerable crumbs, feeling a bit nervous. She was caught sneaking looks at her like some love struck teenager. Then again, she could be considered one.

"Hey, Midori."

"Y-yeah?"

"You were a good subordinate, and, well, friend, dealing with all my emotional baggage." Chiaki's hand touched hers. She could feel the coolness in her fingers, but then the warmth. That was Chiaki's warmth that her body drew in. A small smile graced her lips. "You were one of a kind, and I can never replace you."

"Thank you, Chiaki." Midori's face illuminated.

"I will miss you, and I'm sorry for being unable to save you."

Midori scrunched her eyebrows. Were her eyes wet...?

Chiaki's hand disappeared, and up she rose, a revolver aimed straight at Midori's heart. Midori's eyes widened.

Everything slowed down. With a few tears in those purple eyes, harboring regret, sorrow, and duty, Chiaki's mouth moved, her gun's report drowning out all noise.

.

..

...

..

.


The barrier collapsed, disappeared like a mirage, leaving Chiaki alone in the abandoned warehouse, gun still aimed at where Midori had sat.

All alone, save for Midori's grief seed, standing inches below the gun's barrel; bathed in moonlight.