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She dreamed about Madoka sometimes.
Each dream was so incredibly vivid. She could see the stars glittering in the background, the colors of the galaxy swirling behind them both. Pastels swam in her vision, dancing around her as she made her way down an invisible starry path.
It was all so beautiful.
Nothing ever compared to Madoka herself, though. It never had, and it never will. Because of this, Homura found it hard to look at her. A part of her knew that Madoka was supposed to have two cute pigtails, be in a normal schoolgirl’s outfit, just be ... herself. Madoka -- the one she knew and loved so dearly beyond all comprehension. The one that mattered more than anything else in any universe, the one that she’d break time for.
But things had changed.
Instead, she looked radiant. Breathtaking. She had a beauty that couldn’t even be described by her pathetic words. Homura always found herself staring, even when she had to shield her eyes from the light Madoka emitted.
She took a few steps forward, terrified that if she moved too quickly, that this would all be over. Homura never wanted this to end -- she wanted to stay here with Madoka. This piece of space was her own little slice of heaven,
“Homura.” Madoka’s voice had an ethereal quality to it now. It was here, there, everywhere -- much like she was now. She opened her arms to Homura, slowly, methodically. With purpose. Nothing else had ever looked as inviting to Homura.
Homura took one step forward.
Another.
She then rushed into Madoka’s arms, hugging her as tightly as she could manage. The fabric of Madoka’s dress nearly overwhelmed her form, but she didn’t care. Nothing mattered as long as Madoka was here with her -- and stayed. ‘God, please, let her stay.’
“It’s good to see you!” Madoka sounded as chipper as ever now, and giggled as she held Homura even tighter than before. Homura nuzzled up to her, smiling dreamily as she melted against her beloved. “You’ve been fighting so hard.”
“It’s worth it.” And it was -- every single scrape and bruise was made worth it because it made Madoka happy. Seeing the world she loved defended and protected ... if it helped Madoka be at ease, Homura would fight to the ends of the Earth. She’d never stop.
“You’re not going to have to fight that far,” Madoka said with another giggle. “Just do your best for as long as you can, okay?”
“Mm-hmm.” Homura dared not speak anymore. If she stopped focusing on how Madoka felt against her, how her hair brushed against her, how warm and safe her arms felt, she might wake up.
Space around them shifted and warped. The pale pastels danced around them, almost like they were celebrating their temporary reunion. The stars twinkled, shining down upon them with a smile. Homura found dim comfort in all of it.
“Please don’t make me leave,” she eventually whispered. Her voice trembled. “I miss you so much. I love you.”
“I love you too, Homura.” Madoka squeezed just a bit tighter. There wasn’t a trace of sadness in her voice. Initially, it stung -- but then, Homura remembered that it meant they’d see each other again. “I’m always with you, even if you can’t see or hear me. I’m always by your side, cheering you on. Okay?”
“Okay.”
They might be ripped apart again, but they’d find each other. Madoka knew that, and Homura had to trust in Madoka. If she did that, it’d be much easier to go through the motions of life. Eventually, this wouldn’t be a dream anymore; they’d be reunited for good. She wouldn’t have to leave -- she could stay with Madoka forever.
Homura let herself smile at that thought.
This sense of peace would stay with her when she woke up -- Madoka would make sure of that. Worrying about it ending would only worry Madoka, so ... Homura would let herself just exist for now. She'd stay close, focus on the good, and just enjoy her time here.
It was all Homura could do. And, for now, she was okay with that.