The Miki Residence (technically the Langley-Soryuu Miki Residence, but please don’t make me type that every time) was lively this sunny afternoon.

While Sayaka was in her kitchen making some lemonade, Madoka laid sprawled out on the couch and Kyoko sat on a chair with her legs kicked up on one of its arms.

A real nice day to relax.

Over in the side yard garden Makoto was out running around with Asumaru, Sayaka’s nine-year-old son. Seeing as the Mikis subsided on a diet mainly consisting of Flandre Burgers at McScarlet’s... well, it was good the boy was getting some exercise.

That wasn’t to fault Sayaka for anything-- being a single mom who also worked full-time saving Mexico and the rest of the Caribbean Rim from evil, she didn’t have enough time to raise her own son with the utmost of health concerns.

....Besides all the time she spent on drugs and alcohol... But that was supposed to be a comical character trait, so it should be ignored...

Sigh.

That’s what Kyoko was talking about when she said the zaniness of her life had waned since she grew older.

Being a manic alcoholic party animal when you’re a 14 year old girl is a source of comedy but when you’re a thirty year old mother, it’s a source of drama. Oh how the times change.

Kyoko really hated it when depressing real life stuff interfered with what should be funny and insensitive comedy.

Well, anyway, Kyoko was one to talk about eating poorly, tossing two mochi balls into her mouth at this very moment. She still had the metabolism of a rabid chipmunk, though, and with any hope she’d remain that way the rest of her life.

Sayaka came over to the living room with a pitcher of lemonade and some plastic cups (recyclable and reusable, of course! Do your part!). She poured a glass for Kyoko, and she immediately gulped it down with the power force of a vacuum sealer.

“That’s pretty good, Sayaka,” Kyoko said. “What recipe did you use?”

Sayaka smiled blankly for several moments. “...Recipe?”

Madoka over on the couch groaned. “Being pregnant suuuuuuuuuuucks.” She put her arm over her face and continued making an annoying deep-pitched yell.

“Have some lemonade,” Sayaka said. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“No, I’d just feel sick to my stomach. I already feel so ‘egh’ about everything right now. You wouldn’t understand.”

Sayaka and Kyoko looked at each other, and then back at Madoka. “We do,” they said in unison.

“Oh fine,” Madoka said. She sat up and sipped on her glass.

“Hmm.... this is actually some really good stuff. What’d you put in this?”

Sayaka once again seemed to freeze for a moment. “What’d I... put?”

Makoto and Asumaru darted back into the house and scampered up to Madoka.

“Aunt Madoka, look what we found!” Asumaru presented to her a quivering little furry animal, “A mini-chupacabra!”

“A mini-chupacabra!” Makoto parroted.

Look at that poor.... chipmunk or whatever.

“Oh, Asumaru,” Madoka said. “That's not--”

“You better put that baby back, you two,” Sayaka said. “If you mess with a chupacabra’s child, the mother will hunt you down to the ends of the Earth!” She even started wiggling her fingers.

The two children’s mouths dropped open and they ran back outside to return the woodland creature to its original location.

Madoka giggled. She was so adorable when she giggled. “Your parenting tricks certainly are effective,” she told Sayaka.

Sayaka took it in stride and posed with her hands on her hips.

...Oops. Kyoko had just finished off the entire pitcher of lemonade.

“Oops,” Kyoko said entirely genuinely. “I guess you’ll have to make some more, huh? What a shame. It’s too bad I can’t follow your secret technique and make my own--”

Sayaka put her hands to her face and yelled, “Alright! I admit it! It’s store-bought! Fine, are you happy?”

...Oh.

Sayaka ran off crying loudly, leaving Madoka and Kyoko alone.

Which was always nice.

“I’d like it if my hormones weren’t raging out of control at random arbitrary frequencies. What did you do to cope with this garbage?”

“Honey, I’m sure you remember,” Kyoko said. “I ate. I ate a lot.”

“I... I remember now. Those were...”

“Dark times, yes.”

Dark times indeed.

Mexico’s Great Junk Food Famine of Seven Years Ago... It devastated the North American snack stocks and plunged the world into a churro-less existence for half a year.

And she didn’t regret it one bit.

“Well what do I do? I’m not an unstoppable hunger vortex like you,” Madoka whined.

“Watch trashy reality TV and yell at the screne when the characters do despicable, awful stuff?”

“Already on it.” Madoka picked up the remove and turned Sayaka’s TV on to “School Counselors: Miami Beach Edition.”

A lot had changed in the fifteen years since she joined the Kaname family. They created an organization to train magical girls worldwide; they faced off against an inter-universal psychic psycho; they started piloting giant robots and faced off against furry terrorists; and most importantly, Kyoko and Madoka had been given a wonderful daughter, with another on the way.

Kyoko sometimes missed the wacky antics that used to constantly pervade her life. But life was still mostly the same; she still had Madoka, Sayaka, and all the others. And that was enough.

And then the Chupacabra burst through the window.

It roared. “WHERE IS MY CHILD?!”

終わり