Work Text:
It's eight o' clock. She's still not back.
Miss Akemi checks her watch. She turns her head back up, noticing the thunder only increasing in volume and temperament. The skies are a sickly gray. It's been such a long time.
Ever since she left.
She remained unphased; three years ago, she might have started crying, even at the mention at her name. She breathes in deeply, then exhales. She pulls her black umbrella over her head, and begins to walk out from the apartment complex. Her eyes feel blurry, tired; or maybe the world's crumbling again? Homura clears her throat, forcing herself to look around instead of at her feet as she usually does. She feels like falling asleep. Even still, she thinks this is all some cruel nightmare. In fact, it was an inescapable reality she had found herself in, and the girl with blue hair seemed to be her only escape. She checks her watch again.
It's eight thirty. She's nowhere in sight.
Her stomach begins to tightly wind itself into a knot, dread forming near her intestines. Sayaka Miki was never one to be late; and if she was, it was always by only five minutes. Or maybe that was all a lie. The thoughts plague her mind, until she splashes her boot against a large puddle, the crackling sound in the distance breaking her from her buried memories. It keeps her up at night, how badly she'd failed her, her savior. How, after so many attempts, everything had been as futile as when she had started her journey.
I just wanted to protect you.
She breathes out from her nose, slowly. Homura closes her eyes.
Sayaka couldn't have gone far. She was at the train station. Where could she have gone that was far enough to run to?
The eyelashes flutter as her eyelids open again, cold determination set in them as worry continues to take over her body. It's burning in her torso, and a faint smell of perfume surrounds her, strangely. Almost like her's ..
Akemi begins to run. Run, like there was a big demon chasing her, and she could never escape. Run, run into Madoka's arms. Run so that nothing could hurt them ever again.
The watch. She blinks, rubbing droplets of water off of it.
It's nine o' clock. Sayaka Miki is nowhere in sight.
No .. No, no no no, NO. NO. No …
Ideas of hell and hath fury fill her head. Her breathing becomes more hoarse as she turns into a full sprint, heading now towards the Mitakihara Central Park. She almost trips multiple times, but continues in her endeavors.
Sayaka Miki. The first girl to talk to her since Madoka left. The only girl to know what truly had happened to the deity. The only girl to fully believe her, after having seen how much turmoil it caused Akemi. The girl who had stayed the night at her apartment and held her until she fell asleep, when she had been too afraid to even be in the dark anymore. The girl who had spent every waking moment with Akemi for months after what she had dubbed The Incident, the girl who kissed her tears away, the girl who she would give up her life for in a heart beat.
The girl she had fallen in love with. Sayaka Miki, the girl that Homura Akemi had fallen madly in love with.
She felt tears threatening to slip down her face, that small pout and her trembling lips, something that Sayaka herself had said made Homura, "so cute!" Listening to her voice in her head made her want to sob, hysterically, for the first time in three years. She just wanted her back. She can't lose another one. Homura couldn't lose Sayaka, or she'd crumble. She'd turn into dust and die away with the ages, she'd break. She had been running for what felt like hours, and it was. She ran and ran and ran, endlessly, it felt like.
So when she finally saw that glimmer of soaked, glowing blue hair in the distance, she almost screamed with relief. Rushing over to the other girl, she saw the look on her face. Sayaka's eyes were muddled with a slight look of sadness, and she was taking off her shoes. She was hunched against a tree, and was shaking from being in the rain.
Homura came to a stop in front of her, dropping her umbrella, and suddenly pulling Miki tightly into her arms. The other girl gasped softly, mumbling, asking what exactly she was doing. Out of her pure panic, she pulled her head away, staring into Sayaka's eyes. She used her gloved hands to brush a few strands of the blue locks out of the girls face, breathing out. Slowly, softly, carefully.
There was a silence. She glances down at her watch.
It's eleven fifty nine.
She duly notes this, as Sayaka and Homura's lips meet, in a chaste kiss that lasts for quite a while.