Mami's large, frightened eyes darted around the restaurant, scanning the counter, the tables, and Agung's broad frame. She looked like a trapped bird. The warm smell of spices and the absence of any magical signature—or even the metallic tang of blood and gunpowder that often clung to her world—seemed to momentarily confuse her.
"I... I don't know," she whispered, her voice fragile and thin. "I just... I ran. And then this door... Where am I?"
She took a shaky step back, her hand instinctively moving toward her waist, searching for the magical girl weapon that wasn't there. The nullification field rendered her Tiro Finale useless, leaving her utterly exposed and vulnerable.
Agung kept his movements slow and steady, projecting a quiet calm. He recognized the profound distress of someone who had recently seen the true horror of their fate.
"You are safe here," Agung repeated, walking around the counter and gently pushing a chair out for her. "This is a neutral space, a haven. My name is Agung. Please, sit down, Mami Tomoe."
Hearing her name spoken by a stranger in this impossible place made her flinch.
"How... how do you know my name?" she stammered, her breath hitching.
"I know many things about those who come here," Agung said with a melancholic sigh, his eyes reflecting the painful knowledge of her existence. He lowered his voice, the warmth of a counselor replacing the detachment of a chef.
"You are very brave, Mami-san. You are a Magical Girl who has shouldered an immense burden alone for too long. You fight Witches to protect the innocent, exchanging your very soul for power. You've been trying to be the perfect hero, the reliable senior, but the constant fighting and the isolation must be exhausting."
Mami sank into the chair, tears beginning to well up again, the weight of the hidden truth crushing her.
"It's true," she choked out. "The others... the newcomers, they rely on me. I have to protect them from Kyubey and the truth, but..." She trailed off, staring blankly at the tabletop.
Agung knew exactly what she needed right now was not an explanation, but physical comfort and validation.
"You need food that is warm and gentle," Agung stated, moving back to the kitchen. "No fighting. No Witches. Just rest. I am going to prepare you a very simple, warm rice porridge called Bubur Ayam. It's easy on the stomach, and it tastes like a mother's comfort."
He pulled out a pot and began stirring rice and chicken broth, the gentle bubbling sound a peaceful contrast to the psychic scream of her life.
"While I cook, please tell me what you ran from, Mami-san," Agung requested, his hands working efficiently. "Tell me what weighs on your Soul Gem right now. Was it another fight? A betrayal? Did someone teach you the true meaning of despair?"
He knew she was likely reeling from the revelation that Magical Girls turn into Witches, or perhaps the trauma of losing a friend. He waited for her to articulate the terror that had driven her through his door.