Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“No... I failed again...” Homura contemplates as she stares up at the darkened, stormy sky that Walpurgisnacht rips asunder with its mere presence. A tube of rebar pierces her left shoulder, preventing all movement of that arm. It's too long to work up. She's out of strength. Another timeline failed but some stupid glancing blow. Pitiful.

And then, a familiar shadow appears above her, blurred. “Madoka...” Homura imagines the details of her face that she can't clearly make out.

Her soft and gently voice comes through, “Homura...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let you endure this.”

Homura grasps the hand rested on her cheek with her right hand, the only thing she can still move. “It's not your fault.” she tries to console her.

But Madoka doesn't let her. She shakes her head, “I'll make everything better, now. I'm sorry, but I'm going to become a magical girl. Please, trust me. I'm going to save you.”

“No...” Homura tries to plead. “No! Please! Madoka!” She reaches out as Madoka backs away.

“One more thing, Homura...” Madoka is about to go, but has second thoughts as she crouches back down and kisses Homura on the forehead. “I love you.” she says. Then, another kiss, this time on the lips. Softly. Not lingering. Solemn.

Then, she backs away for real and turns her back, walking calmly towards Kyubey. Homura is left streaming tears, trying to scream something but unable to formulate a coherent thought.

Then, Madoka begins her wish with something strangely familiar, “I wish to go back to before Homura and I first met, before she became a magical girl...”

“No...” Homura quickly recognizes the words, and begins to panic. “Madoka, MADOKA!”

“But this time, instead of her saving me...”

“NO! NO, NO, NO, NO, NOOOO! MADOKA, DON'T DO IT! DON'T DO IT!” Homura screams at the top of her lungs, trying desperately to break the rebar pinning her down.

“...I want to be the one to save her.”

Kyubey asks for confirmation, “And is that the wish that will make your soul gem shine?”

Homura continues to let out a bloodcurdling scream, her own blood rupturing through her mouth in sputters, “ NOOOOOOOOOOO!!! MADOKAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! ”

But it's no use. A pink light envelopes the landscape, blinding her. In a last ditch effort, she grabs her shield and reverses time once again.

Madoka wakes up in her bed, as if that entire experience had just been a dream. But alas, when she glances at her alarm clock and puts it to sleep, she notices her soul gem sitting there on her desk, shining like a beacon of hope that had just been waiting for her to awaken. She rises silently and picks it up, deciding to test it out by transforming. Her outfit is disturbingly accurate to how she drew it in her notebook, but with one caveat: It has a slight resemblance to Homura's. Instead of being excessively poofy, it's a bit depressed, with a collared capelet adorning her shoulders and collar instead of the open one she had initially sketched. It goes just to her chest. Honestly a bit cute. The skirt goes lower and is a bit longer, but still looks the same. Instead of the poofy ribbons she had initially imagined, the ones she has now look a bit more like they normally are, albeit longer and wider, tied to look like hearts rather than bows.

But the most striking difference is her bow, which looks like she thought it would with one exception: a shield. And not an unfamiliar one; it looks almost exactly like Homura's did. Instead of being affixed to her left arm, it's a part of the bow itself. Instead of silver, it is gold. Instead of violet gems, its are pink. Instead of the strange, alien swirls, it has ornate and almost floral ones.

It takes her a couple minutes to figure out exactly how to operate it, but she eventually figures out how to activate time-stop, and spends some time just gawking at the world as it is, frozen in time. “So this is her world.” she thinks.

But eventually, her father calls up to her, asking why she isn't up yet. She's forced to go back to normal for now and act like nothing weird happened. The rest of the morning follows as usual. Of course, today is the day that Homura transfers into their class. She prepares a few different greetings, but doesn't quite know what to expect given she never knew her before she became a magical girl. It couldn't be that much different, right?

She could not have been more wrong. After a whole morning of trying to act like she hadn't just watched all of her friends die (for the record, it was very difficult), the teacher finally announces the incoming transfer student. Sayaka reacts as she would expect, but she doesn't. Because the girl that walks in isn't the Homura she knew, but a timid and frail little girl. Homura before she ever contracted.

It's surreal . How in the hell did THIS girl who can barely even utter a word in her introduction evolve into the cool-headed bombshell that had tried to save her? God only knows, but she was about to find out. Maybe. Throughout the day, Madoka decides to keep a close eye on her to observe exactly how she acts in this state. Big surprise, she isn't exactly social. Or good at...well, anything. She breaks down into tears upon being asked to solve one math equation, nearly passes out during PE, and everyone starts mocking her behind her back despite how friendly they were at first. She even catches Sayaka making a dig at her, which she gets elbowed for.

Madoka tries to console her, offering compliments to how cute she is, but Homura isn't particularly responsive at this point. “No I'm not.” “You don't have to say that.” “I'm okay.” and all of those dismissals. It's a little frustrating, especially given that it completely contradicts the Homura she...well, the one she THOUGHT she knew. Apparently she had barely even scratched the surface.

And it's about near the end of the day that she realizes how she's been thinking. Not like she usually does, with uncertainty and suppressed emotions, but now with some level of methodicalness. It's almost scary, she thinks when she catches herself just combing through every level of this girl's behavior. She makes a note to be more personal from then on.

But one other matter presents itself thusly: The presence of a witch. She had been following Homura as she went home that day, discreetly. Needed to make sure she didn't do anything regrettable. But then, her soul gem began to quickly pulse with light, something that she recalled from the initial timeline that means a witch is nearby. Thank Mami for her lessons.

The witch had effortlessly ensnared Homura in a trap, making her repeat self-loathing mantras over and over while wandering unwittingly into its gaping maw. But Madoka wasn't about to let that happen. The issue presents itself, then, when she finds herself standing behind a terrified Homura alongside Mami, who she has yet to meet in this timeline, about to blast a witch into oblivion. They both share nervous glances at each other, Madoka's moreso than Mami's, and silently agree to combine attacks.

“Tiro...Finale!” Mami calls out that familiar name, blasting a gaping hole through the archway that the witch had created. Madoka busies herself with clumsily blasting volleys of dozens of arrows at the familiars in order to destroy them. Most of the shots miss, but she doesn't take it too seriously. It goes down with absolutely minimal effort, leaving Madoka to wonder how that thing survived for any length of time with how weak it is.

But another thought occupies her mind: Mami. Looking at her is painful after knowing what happened last time. She had died when a witch side-swiped her in the head. That's how they learned about a shattered soul gem equaling death. Homura wiped out that witch without a second thought in a glorious display of explosives. Homura...

Oh, right. She goes to check on the girl, lying on the floor completely paralyzed in fear. It's strange to see her like this, in a way she never could have even imagined the previous Homura in. She reaches out with one hand and simply asks, “You okay?”

Homura reluctantly reaches back, “Y-Yeah... Kaname, is that you?”

Madoka smiles at her for what feels like the first time this timeline, even though she knows it isn't, “It's me. Don't tell anyone in class, okay?”

“Okay.” Homura nods as she stands.

“And one more thing,” Madoka adds “just call me Madoka.”

“Madoka...” Homura tries to say, but ends up getting embarrassed, “I-I'll try! But, this is...uh...”

She is...adorable. For lack of a better word. Well, there probably isn't a better word. But the only thing running through Madoka's head right now besides an overwhelming sense of dread is “She's cute.” From the glasses to the braids, it seems like Homura's appearance can hit every single one of her buttons no matter what form she takes.

Then, another voice comes in to interrupt their exchange, “I think we need to talk.”

Oh, right. Mami exists. Madoka clears her throat and turns her attention, “Uh, yes? Ma--- Er, who might you be?” Right, she isn't supposed to know her name yet.

“Tomoe Mami. A magical girl, like you.” she introduces herself. “But you probably already knew that.”

Madoka clumsily tries to think of something to say, “Uh, yeah! Right. I'm a magical girl.”

A silence ensues until Mami reminds her, “And you are...?”

Madoka jumps a bit when she realizes she never introduced herself, “A-Ah! Madoka. Madoka Kaname! Second year!”

“Third.” Mami replies. Then, she takes the grief seed they acquired from the dead witch and tosses it to Madoka, who nearly fumbles it. “Truce.” she explains briefly.

“Truce?” Madoka asks.

“Let's work together sometime. Maybe talk over tea? Tomorrow, maybe?” Mami invites her.

Madoka considers it. She looks at Homura who's still awkwardly standing there, then back at Mami, “...I think that would be fine. Can I bring her with me?”

“Are you two friends?” Mami asks.

Madoka tries to not give too much away, “You could say that.”

“Then of course!” Mami giggles. “See you then, and happy hunting!”

Madoka waves goodbye, then turns back to Homura to try and talk with her more, only to notice that she's started walking away on her own. Madoka reverts back and goes after her, “Hey, wait!”

They get to talking as she escorts Homura home. First, Madoka asks her about where she came from before transferring in.

“Well...” Homura reminisces “...I was in the hospital for a long time. They said my heart sort of...grew wrong. I needed a surgery to fix it, so they brought me here because these doctors were the only ones who could do it. Before that, I was in a christian school and...” she pauses, looking down a bit sadly before she continues “...I haven't been to school in a long time. I don't really miss it back there. They weren't any nicer in Tokyo.”

Madoka pats her on the back, “Well, you're okay now. I'll be your friend, even if nobody else will.”

Homura gives a weak smile. Not like the type she gave Madoka in the previous timeline that reeked of inner turmoil. No, this is something more melancholy. She decides to ask one question that's been nagging her for the past month, “So what are your parents like? Can I meet them?” She gives her a wide smile.

Homura averts her eyes, still looking down at the ground, “I... I don't...”

She stops in her tracks. Madoka does as well. She closes in and places a hand on Homura's shoulder, “You okay?”

“I live alone.” Homura whispers.

“Oh.” Madoka initially says. Then she thinks about it and repeats herself more drastically, “Oh.”

Homura looks to the side. Having been injected with guilt for merely asking, Madoka feels the need to apologize and hug her, “Sorry. I shouldn't have asked.”

“It's okay.” Homura insists.

“No, that's personal.” Madoka also insists.

“Uh...” Homura tries to repeat herself, but realizes what would happen. So she just stands there stiff as a board and lets herself be hugged. Soon enough, they're on their way again. More quietly than before, but still making small talk. Madoka learns that she likes to read and play handheld games, never having really had a life beyond those two pastimes. Just going on and on about the wonderful thinly-veiled romance stories she read while in the hospital, which she thinks are about a mere friendship. It's cute in an oblivious, innocent sort of way. She starts to kind of like this version of Homura, even if she isn't quite as cool as before. Cute or cool, either way it's still good. Because they all share the same fact: It's her.

Once they arrive at Homura's apartment, she tries to awkwardly bid farewell. But before she can go in, Madoka stops her and pulls her into another hug, “It gets better.”

Homura looks confused, “Eh?”

“Things will get better,” Madoka tells her, nuzzling into her shoulder “I promise. I'll make it better.”

Homura's about to reject her habitually, but thinks better of it, “...Okay. Uh, goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Madoka whispers “I love you.”

Homura freezes completely. “Wh-What?” she squeaks.

Madoka also freezes as soon as she realizes what she just said. She jumps back and looks away, blushing, “Ah, I mean... Well...” Finding an explanation or excuse for this seems impossible. She completely lacks the smooth talking skills she wishes she had, or which occur to her after the fact. Then she remembers something. She transforms and immediately freezes time.

“This is bad.” She says to herself as she stares directly at Homura, now frozen in time. “This is very bad.” she repeats. She starts pacing back and forth, talking to herself, “...And this is really convenient! But... Anyways! What do I say? I can't just say that I meant it like a friend, that's just not true! I can't lie to her like that, can I? And if she actually likes me back, it will break her heart! I... I can't...” She pinches the bridge of her nose, “This is harder than I thought. But I need to be cool. Calm and collected. Yeah, just like she was! But not like that. But still so I can be friends with everyone! But especially her. But...” She turns back and looks at Homura again, lingering there for a moment. “Okay, focus! I'm going to... Wait, can I just...run away? I mean, I can't stay frozen like this forever, it must be using up magic, but I still need to think about this. Maybe it would be best if I just disappeared for now. I could explain things later. I don't want to keep her up all night thinking about it, but... Yeah, I think...”

She stares at Homura for another few moments, “...I'm sorry, Homura. I need to go, now.” she says as if she can hear those words. And then she runs back outside, reverts back, and takes the short route back home.

To Homura, it's as if she had just suddenly vanished into thin air. It leaves her worried and confused, but she doesn't go looking for her. “She can take care of herself.” or something along those lines.

When Madoka gets home, she can immediately tell what's for dinner. Her personal favorite and a welcome smell; cream stew. It was this same dish in the last timeline as well. If that's the case and they're all the same, she'll be able to guess what each day will have for her. She makes a mental note to get a notebook to keep track of all of these things so she can sort out the month's events. She doesn't talk much this time around, and immediately excuses herself after dinner.

So far, she knows a few things.

One: Homura is WAY different than she first thought.

Two: Mami is still friendly even after Madoka contracts.

Three: Homura gets attacked by a witch on her way home on the first day, and either her or Mami need to rescue her. Crucial detail.

Four: Mami has a “new friend”. It's probably Sayaka, since she knows that Mami was interested in both of them in the previous timeline.

Five: Sayaka probably knows what magical girls are by now, or will tomorrow. Also, they'll all probably be at Mami's apartment tomorrow.

Six: Sayaka probably knows that she's a magical girl by now, unless Mami is better at keeping secrets than she lets on.

Seven: Homura is lonely.

To that last one, she picks out a stuffed animal from her massive collection and stuffs it in her shield like she saw Homura do with a few things, last time. A big one. A big, stuffed bear that Homura can hug when she's not there. Yeah.

She tries to tell herself that she'll go to bed early to have time for things like preparing the day, but actually ends up staying up a few hours past bedtime trying to draw up plans for said day, overly worrying about each detail of how to approach each problem. Of course, those all get thrown out when she inevitably doubts herself. She ends up falling asleep at her desk.

Chapter Text

“...Why?” Madoka contemplates as she looks around slowly, upon the broken bodies of her dead friends.

“Why?” she repeats, looking up at the blackened sky, finally clearing after a long day to the evening sky.

“What did I do wrong?” she asks fate itself, wandering through the damp city rubble.

Tears start to stream down her cheeks as she makes her way towards the destroyed storm shelter, “Why can't I...?” she tries to continue, but trails off. She thinks for a moment about sifting through the rubble to find any possible survivors, but it wouldn't matter. Everyone is dead, and she knows that.

And Homura... Gone. When she finally caught up with Kyubey, he revealed that she had already made her wish and vanished. She just about stopped right there to go back, but at least wanted to stop Walpurgisnacht. But now, the aftermath speaks for itself.

Of course, it would be stupid to assume she'd succeed after only one loop. She knew that. She went in knowing that, after what the original Homura had told her about the past. Or future. It hardly matters anymore. All she has now is her notes, knowledge, and another opportunity. As many as needed. In the face of such crushing defeat, she somehow manages to find the strength to stand back up, open the shield, and twist the clock back.

After the shock and surprise that was the first of her loops, she had to go into this one with less awe and more planning. She never got through school just by winging it like Sayaka always insisted on doing, but by carefully studying. And that's exactly what she intends to do this time. She begins with a list of things to do:

One, immediately get close to Homura. She lacks confidence, and acting distant will only make her more likely to contract with Kyubey — no, the Incubator as the original Homura called it. Make sure she doesn't get bullied.

Two, make proper contact with Mami as soon as possible. Don't act like such a stranger, even if she saw her die twice now. Homura will be attacked by that witch on the first day, so that will be a good opportunity. Not any others before then.

Three, make sure Sayaka doesn't contract this time. All she's done is witch out, so far.

Four, pacify Kyouko. She seemed to have a soft spot for Mami and Sayaka last time, so that could be a good angle.

Five, gather more grief seeds before the battle. They ran out last time at the worst possible moment.

Six, practice time stop more. She was overly reliant on her bow this first time, which ended up being weaker than she thought it would be. To that effect, find more effective weapons. And finally...

She transforms upon getting up out of bed, then grabs her favorite stuffed animal off of her bed and stuffs it in her shield for later. The following morning, being identical to the previous two, carries with it an air not of warm familiarity but of eeriness. Eerie to see her mom doing the same things, giving the same advice. Eating the same meal. She makes sure to eat quickly this time, and otherwise doesn't say much despite her parents' comments on her haste. She doesn't bare it any mind.

Sayaka doesn't seem to notice a difference, however. To her, Madoka being energetic is good and fun. This time, Madoka anticipates her antics and doesn't really react to them. Sayaka's predictable attempt at tickling her is met with (to her) uncharacteristically swift and careless evasion. Somehow, her magical girl powers seem to have made her body more keen, or she'd not be able to just leisurely avoid someone like Sayaka. She finds it odd, but doesn't otherwise say anything and just bothers Hitomi for the rest of the walk to school.

Again, that ridiculous rant about eggs. The third time she's heard it, and it's already lost its charm, crossing from funny to somewhat annoying. Then again, that might just be the anticipation. Finally, it's time for Homura's...third introduction so far. It goes as she would expect, the exact same as before, but this time Homura seems even quieter. At least the last time she made an attempt to introduce herself, but this time she's totally silent.

“It's kind of cute.” Madoka thinks.

This time, when everyone is convening around Homura, Madoka makes a bee-line towards her before things get out of hand: a marked improvement over her delayed response last time. Recalling her heart condition which actually exists in the past, she decides to just directly escort her to the nurse's office for medication and then a tour around the school.

And as they begin to pass through the connecting hallway, Madoka feels a strange pressure building up in her. The mere being in this place strikes her, as the first place she had any meaningful interaction with Homura. The original, anyways. That odd thing she said there, about if she cared about her friends and family. About how she shouldn't “change”. When she looks back, what she said actually makes sense in hindsight. But if she can save this girl, her love, and everything she cares about, then perhaps changing isn't such a terrible fate to bear. No, she endured far worse than this, clearly.

Without knowing what exactly to say, she turns around and faces the timid Homura and opens her mouth. Nothing comes out. She thought she would remember what she was told so she can parrot it back, but she can't remember. Staring at this girl, the entire world seems to shift around her into a haze. The hallway warps, lengthening to what seems like infinity. Everything becomes a blur except for her. Madoka shakes her head, and tries to speak again, “Hey...uh...”

Homura just stares at her blankly.

Madoka inhales deeply, then sighs as she slowly approaches, “I know this is all scary, but you don't need to be around me.” She closes in on Homura who flinches, then hugs her, “I'm sure you're no different from everyone else.”

Homura isn't sure how to respond, so she just holds her hands up in surrender and meekly utters Madoka's surname. It makes Madoka uncomfortable enough to tell her, “Just call me Madoka. Okay?”

“...Okay?” Homura cautiously accepts.

“Can...I call you Homura?” Madoka acts shy.

Homura silently nods, but still doesn't look at her.

Madoka can't quite help but smile at that reaction and quietly whisper, “That's cute.”

Homura looks shocked and starts blushing, just in time for Madoka to realize she dropped the spaghetti again. Note eight, stop doing that.

“So...that's how it is.” Mami sets down her teacup, looking conflictedly into it, clearly deep in thought.

“Yes.” Madoka confirms. “That's what happens, in the end. ”

Mami looks up, failing to hold back her silent tears, “So that's it, then...”

Homura also looks down into her cup, looking like she just saw a ghost. “The future?” she murmurs.

Madoka rubs her back gently, “It's okay, Homura. I'll be okay. We all will.”

Sayaka can't stop staring onwards at Mami, then Madoka, and then Kyouko. In horror, mostly. Her skin raises with goosebumps from her own imagination. Meanwhile, Mami stands up and excuses herself, “Excuse me for a moment.” She goes back into her bedroom.

The rest of them just sit in silence. Homura leans over and clings onto Madoka tightly, whispering, “This is horrible. This is too much...” Madoka gently shushes her and holds onto her tightly while petting her head.

Another several minutes of silence pass. In that time, Madoka apologizes to Sayaka and Kyouko for not saying anything about this earlier. They're too stunned to respond properly, with Kyouko looking like she's about to break the table in half out of frustration. Eventually, Mami comes back smiling contrastingly and announcing, “Well, I think that's enough for tonight. You can all take the leftovers, I don't want them.”

Everyone stares at her blankly for a second, but eventually accept it. For once, Kyouko has lost her appetite and declines to take any. Sayaka also does. Madoka is the only one who takes it to go, and then they hesitantly shuffle out of the apartment. Mami lingers at the doorway, waving off to them until they're not looking.

Sayaka mumbles while they walk out, “I don't know what to say. What just happened?”

Though she can barely understand her, Madoka sighs and offers her an arm just like Homura. She gladly accepts. Kyouko is left standing alone, making her kick the wall and start quietly sobbing and cursing, “Goddammit, goddammit, goddammit... Fuck this stupid life, fuck that rat, fuck this entire day. Why can't anything just happen fer once? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...”

Sayaka and Madoka look back at her worriedly. Each kick increases in strength and loudness until she's practically trying to break the wall down, until one final kick where a sudden bang far louder than those kicks makes them all freeze in place.

They all look back from whence they came, where the sound originated. Sayaka whispers in the ensuing silence, “What was that?”

Kyouko's stomach drops, and she turns white as a ghost. So does Madoka. But she looks away, back down towards the ground, then clutches Sayaka and Homura tightly. “Let's go.” she says.

“But—”

Sayaka tries to protest, only to be cut off by Madoka uncharacteristically shouting, “I said let's GO!” They all go quiet again. Madoka forces Sayaka and Homura out of the complex, but Kyouko insists on staying behind.

Once the other three are gone, she slowly approaches Mami's apartment and knocks. To no answer. She opens the door, it being unlocked for some reason. One look is all she needs, but she still stares for far longer, just attempting to parse what's happening.

“We...” Kyouko gasps “We just made up...”

She steps forward, unable to bear the weight of her own body, “We were sisters again...”

She collapses to her knees next to Mami, cradling the remaining bottom half of her head that isn't clearly eviscerated by buckshot. “Why!?” Kyouko repeatedly gasps in an attempt to hold her emotions back, but the streaming tears betray her. She looks at the table, spying a piece of paper out of her peripheral vision. She doesn't need to read what it says to realize what it is. She doesn't dwell on it for even a moment.

Instead, she hugs Mami's corpse as tightly as she can and screams like a banshee into her still-warm bosom.

Two blocks away, Madoka makes another mental note, “Twenty: Don't tell Mami the truth.”

A giant gear sinks into the ocean. The rain is still pouring, the sky is still dark, and yet the spinning gears of fate have finally stopped. And yet, so has time itself. For just a moment.

Madoka looks down at Homura as the life slowly drains from her eyes. Madoka's skirt is soaked gradually with the crimson essence pouring out of the gaping hole in Homura's stomach. If she were a magical girl, there wouldn't be any issue. But that can't happen. It just can't.

“Madoka...” she gasps, voice hoarse from screaming too much. Madoka clutches her tightly and fights back her tears. Homura reaches up as much as she can — which isn't much — and opens her closed hand, “Here...” Within it is nothing obviously special to anyone else. A little trinket, some accessory for a phone. A handmade rainbow tackle. “This...is what I wanted to give you...yesterday.” she barely manages to get out.

Madoka lowers her head into Homura's hand and holds onto her tightly. If she speaks, she knows she won't be able to hold back anymore. So she stays silent and grits her teeth.

“I...” Homura gasps again, on the verge of fainting “L-Looo...” she trails off, voice becoming inaudible before her entire body goes limp.

With nobody around to judge her, or to worry about her, Madoka finally lets out all of her pent up frustration in a single prolonged, bloodcurdling scream. She thought it would make some of the pain go away, but her entire body still feels like it's on fire. She looks around at all of the strewn around debris, the bodies of her friends littering them, and wonders, “Why? We won! We won! This wasn't supposed to happen! We... I—”

A voice from behind interrupts her, “Indeed, you won, Kaname Madoka. You beat Walpurgisnacht. And all of that dead weight is off of your chest now, so you can keep the reward for yourself. Why are you so distressed when you can take your reward and live the rest of your life without worrying about fighting? That grief seed will probably last for that long.”

Madoka stops. She rigidly stands and pivots around to face her demon, “Kyubey.” But then she corrects herself, “No...Incubator. That's what you're called, right?”

“That is the name of our species, yes. But it doesn't matter what you call me. More importantly, would you please explain your—”

Suddenly, he explodes into a red mist. Madoka lowers her bow, having fired the killing blow. Afterwards, she tells his corpse with the most lifeless, cold tone she can possibly produce, “Just shut up already. I don't care. I didn't do this to kill a witch. I did it to save Homura. If you want to mock that, I'll hunt you down to the end of the earth and kill you over and over until you stop coming back. Understand?”

He doesn't come back out to answer. She knows he's around there somewhere, but it doesn't matter.

“I'm going back, now.” she says. “I'm going back, and I'm going to fix this. Nobody is going to suffer.” She bends down upon Homura's body and takes the accessory she made for her, then stuffs it in her shield for safekeeping. Then, as she's just about to turn it to go back, she hears another person.

“Madokaaaaa!” Her mother yells from not too far away. She's running through all of this rain and dangerous debris just to find her. And then their eyes meet. Junko obviously can't comprehend what's happening in front of her, nor can Madoka explain it. But she doesn't need to. First, they speak with their eyes, and Junko thinks she understands. Then Madoka speaks.

“I'm sorry, Mom. I kept all of this a secret for a long time. I have to. I know you don't understand, but I need to do this. I'm going back to stop all of this now. Goodbye.”

Her mother tries to protest, but is powerless to stop her as she turns the shield and disappears right before her eyes.

Chapter Text

Madoka gets out of bed for yet another try. By now, she's lost count. How many times has she watched the person she loves most die or vanish in front of her eyes? 60? 70? Something like that. She shivers, still reeling from the memory of the previous timeline where Homura had wished to save her after she slipped up a single time. It was all downhill from there.

But it's a new month. A new chance. Before she realizes what's happening, she's already in the bathroom, spacing out while her mother rambles on about the same vapid bullshit as always. While she can't support how ruthless her business tactics are, you can't argue much with effectiveness. That ruthlessness showed itself copiously when she got in trouble with the cops several times.

She automatically reaches over for the choice of ribbons she gets each timeline. Yellow or red. She usually picks red. Sometimes yellow to switch things up. By now, she doesn't even care anymore. She opts to just not wear any at all and let her hair down. It doesn’t matter, Homura always loves whatever she chooses.

Her mother notices, “Madoka? What's wrong? You're not your usual self, today.”

Of course not. That Madoka died half a decade ago. She side-eyes her mother and barely answers, “Nothing.” That's right. Nothing. She shouldn't bother worrying about it. There's nothing she can do, anyways.

Junko probably said more, but Madoka unintentionally went on autopilot again for the rest of the morning, only phasing back in to say, “Bye.” as she left.

After a while, the same conversation every morning with her two friends became boring. After a longer time, it became annoying. Eventually, she decided to just avoid them altogether and take a different route to school. It's faster to get there using magic, so by the time they're at the entrance, she's already been waiting in her seat for a while.

Yes, yes, endure their mindless chatter. The voices of all the malcontents as they shuffle into their cold, hard seats. Who designed these, anyways? A sadist, that’s who. Madoka anxiously taps her foot and shuffles around the whole time. She tries to tune out everything, but can't do so with Sayaka.

“Hey, earth to Madoka! What's up? What happened with the ribbons?” Her chipper voice grates violently against the noise.

“Nothing.” Madoka dismisses, looking away.

Sayaka realizes she's probably not going to get much out of her today, so she mercifully goes away. If there's one thing Madoka's learned, it's that Sayaka at least knows when not to fuck with someone who's clearly in a bad mood. That said, she's also not the brightest light bulb in the dilapidated shed.

Again, Madoka tunes out their teacher's inane ramblings. She only comes back to reality when she finally brings Homura in. Upon seeing that adorable, nervous little face, she can't help but relax her previously tense body a little. Just to know she's safe right now is enough.

By now, the routine is rehearsed and utterly memorized. She's supposed to take Homura to the nurse now. They're supposed to talk in the hallway. The mere sight of the connecting hallway fills her with such horrific angst that she almost cries just walking through it. The words don't come out. She can only listen to this timid girl struggling to form a coherent sentence through all of her nervousness. It would be cute if it weren't so painful to listen to.

At some point, Madoka turns around suddenly to face her with rogue tears in her eyes. Homura can't make sense of it in the moment, but it's okay. She doesn't need to. Madoka's inexpressive eyes clash terribly against those tears, and they just keep getting closer. Until Homura is completely embraced without really knowing why. She doesn't struggle. For some reason, it just feels natural.

“Is...something wrong?” she asks. Three words is all they are, but they're strong enough to make Madoka weak in the knees. But she stands strong and shushes her. They stand like that for a solid minute, one too afraid to break free and the other too weak to let go.

“Idiot.” Madoka chastizes herself “Why are you doing this? She's just going to die like every other time. Why am I still so attached? She doesn't remember. None of them do. You're just some creep hugging her the day she transfers in. How could anyone care about a useless creep and a failure?”

Then Homura hugs her back. The voice disappears, if only for a little while. For that short time, it's utter bliss. When they finally part, Homura meekly thanks her, “...It was a bit sudden, but it was nice. I'm glad we can be friends so quick! I know this might sound weird, but I dreamt about you last night, so I thought it was weird that...” she goes on, but Madoka spaces out again, getting lost in her eyes.

This girl, her sole flame, never ceases to warm her heart even in the dead of a barren tundra. Absentmindedly, Madoka tells her, “I love you.”

Usually, it's an accident. Sometimes she takes it back. Sometimes she forgets. Now, it's just intentional. She knows Homura is too innocent to know what she means immediately, so she just takes it as a compliment despite how clearly flustered she is. How could a girl with such nonexistent social experience even tell the difference between love and friendship? Perhaps the first one she met did, maybe even a few after, but...

...Their classes together go predictably. Homura always fails at the math problem and everyone starts whispering. The entire time, Madoka seethes with frustration at them, the fools who doubt her for even a second. They can’t even comprehend her potential. If they saw, she knows how they would react. They would love her. For all the wrong reasons.

Lunch eventually comes. Sayaka goes on about the same joke she has for the past god-knows-how-many timelines, and Madoka shrugs it off, “Mhm. Yeah. Funny.” In truth, she forgot what it even is and just stopped listening anytime it got to that point.

But she's focusing on other things, too. Staring a hole into the back of Homura's head for example. But now's about the time she gets to one of the first items on her list. Her magic gives her much better hearing for little cost, so she's able to hear what everyone in the classroom is saying. Off to the side, she can hear one of the more troublesome girls complaining about Homura.

“God, what's wrong with her? What kind of moron can't figure that shit out? Is  she stupid or something? Why is she in a regular class like the rest of us?”

Her friends laugh about it. One of them says, “I bet she can't even run a lap without passing out!”

Despite now literally shaking to the point that even Hitomi notices that something is wrong, Madoka keeps listening. Perhaps to give herself an excuse. “No, that’s what it is. It’s pointless to pretend like it’s not.”

One of the other girls finally makes the remark that snaps her, “People that weak shouldn't even be alive. I wonder what would happen if I switched out her meds for sugar pills!” They all laugh about it. Laugh about it.

Madoka gets up and calmly, collectively walks over to them, approaching from behind the only one that's sitting in her seat, the one who said the thing. She announces her presence with a question, “You were talking about (my) Homura, right?”

They all look at her, perplexed both by the fact that it's the girl famed for her kindness, and by her uncharacteristic appearance. One of them confirms, “Yeah? What about it?”

Madoka tilts her head to the side and methodically speaks, “It's okay to kill the weak, is it?”

“Uh...” they all seem to collectively speak, at a lack of proper words.

“Killing people is terrible, you know that?” Madoka comes closer. “It's also pretty terrible to bully people just for having problems. Maybe if you didn't bully them, they wouldn't have as many problems. Maybe people don't choose to be weak. Did you ever think about that?”

They all raise their eyebrows. One of them speaks up, “The fuck are you even saying? Why should we care about what some pansy like you says?”

Madoka can't help but crack a smile and continue, “That's called Social Darwinism. Eugenics. Genocide. You cull the people you don't like. The people who call you wrong. Survival of the fittest, right? Do you just want to be right all of the time? What next, are you going to say anyone who isn't Japanese should just die? Anyone who doesn't conform to your standards?” She comes uncomfortably close to them, “How long until you're all alone and surrounded by dead people? How long until the world turns on you?”

The content of her speech being so alien to them, combined with how utterly monotonous her tone is throughout makes them react with defensive violence. Or it would, if she didn't interrupt their attempt at a rebuttal with the same question as earlier, “So is it okay to kill weak people? Are you sure about that?”

They all look at each other, unsure of what to do. The only one to speak says, “What does it matter to you!? This isn't any of your business!”

Her outburst turns more heads than were already staring at them. Just then, Madoka goes from flat expressionlessness to a wide grin. Whether or not talking them down works was always up to chance. She used to not like resorting to violence, but recently she's relished in every instance where they give her an excuse to do that. This one girl's response sends that familiar shiver of anticipation up her spine.

“It is.” are the only words she speaks before suddenly grabbing the back of the sitting girl's head and slamming it full-force into her own desk. The crack from her nose breaking is loud enough to make the collective class flinch, and all of her friends leap out of their seats in shock.

Then she does it again. And again. And again. Each time, the slam is weaker but gets the point across. Blood is smeared across the desk, but she isn't done. She picks her up by the throat and throws the poor girl through the classroom's glass wall. It shatters, and she falls onto the shards of glass that dig themselves into her back, making her try to scream, only for her voice to crack and come out silent. The others are too terrified to act by not even her sudden strength, but the sheer brutality.

Then Madoka walks over to her. The girl doesn't even bother trying to move. She knows it's pointless. Madoka crouches down next to her and tells her, “ You're weak. ”

She's about to do something else, but Sayaka and Hitomi come running from behind to restrain her. The former chastises, “What the hell is wrong with you!? You're gonna kill her!”

“Maybe she deserves it.” Madoka says while her arms are held back. She doesn't resist.

“What!?” Sayaka sounds incredulous.

Madoka tilts her head back and stares at Sayaka, “If hurting someone stops them from killing someone else, isn't that good?”

Sayaka stops for a moment to think about it, but still can't even make sense of why she's saying it in the first place. “What...the hell are you talking about?” she wonders aloud.

Madoka frowns and effortlessly breaks free from their hold. Instead of finishing the bully off, she simply walks away while they carry her victim off to the nurse. Inevitably, Madoka ends up in the principal's office for that.

“Do you understand what you've done!?”

“She's in the hospital, now!”

“I don't even know if I can let you back into this school after this!”

“I need to call your parents.”

All things he said, none of which she particularly cares about. Expulsion just means more time to prepare for Walpurgisnacht. In the end, her response to all of his threats and anger is simply, “It doesn't matter. You'll be dead by the end of the month. Everyone will. And this school will be gone, too. Wiped off the face of the Earth, as if it never existed.”

Of course, this doesn't go over well. He takes it as a threat and immediately suspends her for a week, hoping this will only happen once. Her parents, of course, are not thrilled. But she gives them the cold shoulder like everyone else.

They had tried to ground her, naturally, but were baffled to find that she had crawled out of the window around the same time school usually lets out. By the time they discover this, she's already lingering around the site where Homura always gets attacked by that one witch who she's killed so many times that she forgot what its name is. Standing atop a building and holding Kyubey by his throat until he chokes out and slowly dies, she waits for the witch to strike and trap her before she springs into action.

Initially, she had always tried to befriend Mami. Now?

Now she ends the witch as soon as Homura realizes where she is. They wouldn't hurt her. They aren't allowed to. They're not even allowed to scare her. Of course, the witch isn't what scares Homura in the first place, but instead the now menacing visage of the girl she watched pummel another person to near death just hours before. Madoka's somber smile when she looks at Homura does little to alleviate that anxiety.

So she stumbles back and onto her butt, panickingly trying to distance herself from Madoka, whose smile still persists. “Don't worry,” Madoka assures her to no effect “I won't hurt you.”

And of course now is when the busty blonde shows her chest. This is when Madoka loses her smile. The two stare at each other, one knowing exactly what's about to happen and the other apprehensive about it.

To Mami's surprise, Madoka silently hands her the grief seed she effortlessly extracted. “For you.” she says.

Mami catches it and accepts, but still seems skeptical. She asks, “Kyubey was scouting you... Don't tell me you already...?”

“That's right.” Madoka answers as soon she can without seeming suspicious.

“But you're not like what he described. Madoka, right?” Mami adds.

“We're on first name terms?” Madoka asks, tilting her head back.

Mami doesn't know what to do, and her usually cool mask cracks a little when Madoka smiles knowingly, “I-I...” she gulps “...Anyways, I guess we should work together. That's what this is, right?” she holds up the grief seed.

Madoka stops smiling. “Stay out of my way.” she commands. “That's what it means.” She then aggressively turns her gaze towards Homura, who stops in her tracks as she tries to get up and leave without being noticed.

Mami observes this and asks Homura, “Hey! Do you need help?”

Madoka doesn't let her answer, “She's fine. Don't bother her.”

Against her better judgement, Mami can’t shake how off that remark feels; as if she interrupted a mobster who was about to execute a rival gang member. So she stays and watches without saying a word.

Madoka, preferring if she would leave, just gives up without much resistance and turns her attention to Homura who is still scared shitless.

Homura runs out of backing up space on the bridge, “B-But you... You sent that girl to the—!”

Madoka interrupts, “She wanted to hurt you. That’s why I hurt her first.” She bends over and offers a hand, “Come on. I saved you twice, now. We’re friends. You don’t need to be afraid.” And more than friends soon enough, hopefully.

Mami relaxes slightly, at least enough to put her rifle away. Homura somehow finds the courage to forgo today’s nastier events and take Madoka’s hand even though she desperately wants to get away from all of this as soon as possible. All seems safe. They walk off down the road without incident, talking all the while. For some reason, Madoka stayed in her outfit.

Mami turns and prepares to tail them to see if this really is just a ruse, but stops short when she stumbles upon Kyubey’s mangled corpse being devoured by...Kyubey.

“E...Eh!?” she gasps. “Kyubey, what are you...!?” She resists the urge to vomit at the sight of this blatant cannibalism.

Kyubey finishes eating himself before he answers, “Ah, apologies, Tomoe Mami. I wish you did not have to see that. But this is merely one of my bodies that was unfortunately killed. I am merely recycling it.”

She feels like she’s about to pass out. First someone gets assaulted in her school, then she meets the assaulter who turns out to be a magical girl with an attitude problem, then it turns out it’s the same girl Kyubey was scouting, and now THIS?

“I need a drink.” is her first thought. Her second which she spits out instead of thinking is, “Kyubey! You jerk, I took care of you! Why didn’t you tell me about this!?”

“You didn’t ask.” he predictably answers.

Mami pinches her nose and groans, “I didn’t even need to clean your fur, did I? What did I even do all of that for?”

“Perhaps it was for your own enjoyment.” he hypothesizes.

Mami loses her patience. Having forgotten what she was originally doing, she just silently walks in the opposite direction.

She’s been suspended for a week before. It’s not her first rodeo. That said, it’s still a minor inconvenience to not be able to watch Homura constantly. At least, up-close. Nobody said she couldn’t watch from afar. And having taken into account those girls’ previous plans, she managed to procure Homura’s heart medication and lock it down in her own special way.

She also coincidentally decided to start packing Homura’s lunches for her, starting by abusing time stop to steal from a supermarket for ingredients. Her parents are none the wiser, as usual. It’s easy when you memorize everyones’ schedules. The girl could use more meat on her, anyways; assuming this time succeeds. Which is unlikely. Upon completion, she slips the medication into the lunch and seals it with a tamper-proof lock. No pervert would ever slip a diuretic or a laxative in there again.

And then she covertly slips into the school to deliver it to her in the morning. Of course, Homura knows everything. She told her beforehand, and Homura took it surprisingly well. Or perhaps she was just scared. Pray to god it’s not the latter.

This goes on for a few days while she spends her free time each day breaking into every available armory on the map and stealing munitions for later use. Day one: Police stations. Kill as many witches as possible. Eye Homura like a hawk. Be home in time for dinner and explain just what exactly the fuck happened the other day.

Day two: Yakuza bases. Also acquire money, for protective reasons. Day three: Get a new look. The school uniform and pink hair gets stale after a while. A girl can’t wear the same thing every timeline, right? She gets some... darker clothing and gets some black highlights in her hair. If this were a couple decades ago, the school would throw a fit over that too.

Day three: Kill enough witches to buy time for robbing a military compound. Now, you may be asking: Why would a girl with a bow need firearms too? Well aside from the obvious inspiration, the bow part was frankly a bit useless against anything that’s not Walpurgis or a familiar, for some reason. Sometimes you need more precision than that flimsy thing allows. Sometimes you just need a big fucking gun. Of course, a BFG would make this all so much simpler. Alas, it does not exist.

Day four: Mami usually fights Charlotte around this time, give or take a day. She rarely survives. It is of paramount importance that she does.

Of course, the avenue of the fight never changes, always the same spot in the hospital. In some cases, she could even catch the victim before she turned. Sometimes she can stop it in time. Now is not one of those times. By the looks of things, Mami already went inside several minutes ago. She may be close to the witch.

And her suspicions prove correct. After following the trail of familiar corpses through a maze of cake, she comes upon the entrance to Charlotte’s room and can hear gunshots going off. Just in time. When she enters, she busts down the door and seems to startle Mami who’s about to shoot off her Tiro Finale. The shot misses by an inch, thankfully, and Charlotte’s limp doll body stays floating in the air, suspended by ribbons. Behind a giant donut is Sayaka, grasping a baseball bat and ready to pounce. And to her surprise, Homura as well. A good thing she decided to help.

Before Mami can even express her surprise at the sudden appearance, Madoka freezes time and dispatches Charlotte’s first form in less than the blink of an eye. She disappears from one spot and reappears just as it explodes into shreds, revealing its true form that struggles to run from the sudden onslaught. Mami whips her head around and attempts to fight the beast, only to be borderline blinded by a rapid series of explosions going off right in its face. Madoka discards a couple grenade launchers, then quickly impales the thing with several arrows when it tries to pounce. Mami fires off, but her rifles prove to be insignificant in comparison.

And as Charlotte leaps for Madoka, she somersaults onto its head and tosses a flashbang directly into its eye. When it explodes, the witch is so reeled back that it goes flying directly into a wall and falls to the ground, now writhing about in a futile attempt to recover. But no such thing would be happening. Madoka glances back at Mami as if to tell her, “I’ve got this.”

Far be it for Mami to defy such a force to be reckoned with. Madoka then stops time again to toss a series of grenades into its throat. The witch swallows them when time unfreezes, unwittingly. By now, it realizes despite its usual delusions that this could not possibly be a piece of sentient cheese pummeling it. No, this is an intruder. One she is clearly no match for. And so when it regains its orientation, it tries to dart for it.

Only to be blasted into a cloud of shrapnel seconds later. It must have been at least 20 grenades going off at once inside of it, and it had no wherewithal to shed in time to avoid total annihilation. In seconds, the fight had gone from 0 to over with barely any fight. Madoka had practically turned its demise into an art form with how flawlessly it was executed.

And despite how terrifying the show was for Mami and Sayaka to witness, Homura had been utterly enchanted. Some things never change, and clearly Homura always had a disposition for explosions. When the barrier disintegrates and Madoka inevitably tosses the grief seed to Mami as another “peace” treaty, Homura is the first to jump out and hug her coincidental “friend”. To everyone’s further surprise, Madoka actually seems to smile for the first time in days.

Sayaka approaches cautiously, “Y-Yo...Madoka. Haven’t seen you in a uh...bit.”

Madoka, preoccupied with hugging Homura, nods along, “Yeah. Yeah. You two are friends now?”

Sayaka flounders on that question, “Well...I guess? A few days is a bit short, but I guess you two are already that close, so...yes?”

Mami, having run out of patience, blurts out, “What the hell was that!?”

Madoka nearly glares at her, only holding back slightly.

Mami continues as if it isn’t obvious, “You just...busted the door down and killed the thing! I couldn’t even tell what happened, it was just there one minute and now it’s dead! Just...what are you!?”

Madoka opts to smile at her. Uncannily. “I’m a magical girl, of course. Just like you.”

She even puts Homura off a little, “Uh...Madoka?”

Madoka kisses her on the cheek and stares right into her eyes, “Yes?”

“Nothing...” Homura blushes, burying her face into Madoka’s shoulder.

By now, Mami has retreated to whispering to Sayaka about something. Madoka’s enhanced hearing allows her to make out what they’re saying.

“You... You two are friends!?”

“Yeah!”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes! For years!”

“Did you know she was a magical girl!?”

“No! I don’t even know when it happened!”

“Has she always been like this!? Kyubey says she’s different!”

“No, she only started acting like this a week ago, when that transfer student came!”

Madoka stops listening at that point. Homura is still clinging to her. Instead of paying attention to her surroundings, she hugs the poor girl back tightly and absorbs the feeling in its entirety. By the time she’s forced to come to, it’s by Mami who tries her best to be cordial despite her outrage.

“We’ll be going, now.” she says. “If you could, we would like Homura to come with us—”

“No.” Madoka immediately objects.

Mami looks almost offended, “What?”

Madoka cocks her head to the side a bit and stares at Mami, “She’s coming with me.”

Mami hesitates to do anything at this point, but decides in the end that it’s not worth it to potentially start a fight over this, “...Alright, then. We’ll be leaving, now. Sayaka?”

Sayaka also seems to hesitate in choosing between Mami and her best friend. In the end, she decides that now might not be a great time and goes with Mami.

Homura tries to speak up as they leave, “Madoka, I—”

“Shhhhhh...” Madoka hushes her softly. “Don’t listen to them. Or that... thing. They’re going to hurt you, so just stay by my side. Would you like to come home with me?”

Homura looks away and starts to fidget around nervously, “I... Uh... Well, I...”

Madoka caresses her cheek gently, but the touch makes Homura flinch just enough for Madoka to hesitate. “Homura?” she says “You can do it.”

Homura swallows and finally answers coherently, “Okay.”

She should feel uncomfortable right now. But for some reason, when she looks up and sees Madoka’s now rare smile beaming down on her, she can’t help but melt right into her arms. “She’s really a nice person, isn’t she?” she thinks.

Before she knows what’s happening, she’s swept up into a bridal carry and brought all the way to Madoka’s house. Her parents are obviously still upset with the whole suspension thing and sneaking out constantly, but put that aside to welcome Homura with open arms and no arguments whatsoever. Madoka invites her to stay over for the night, even going as far as to tell her that going home now would be too dangerous. Of course, this Homura is too meek to argue with her. And that meekness leads to the two sharing a bed in lieu of a sleeping bag.

But that night, while Homura is able to fall asleep relatively easily, Madoka stays awake. Not quite to admire her beloved, but to indefinitely watch the window by her bedsides like a hawk-eyed meerkat, ready to pounce on any rats that show themselves.

Though she knows this month will be arduous, she doesn’t care. All she needs to keep her wide awake is the girl sleeping next to her.

Chapter Text

In the end, none of it mattered.

Sayaka: Dead. Self-destruction. Nothing new.

Kyouko: Dead. Killed by Mami, presumably. Direct shot to the soul gem. Nothing new.

Mami: Dead. Suicide. Nothing new.

Nothing new. And yet, it never gets any easier. At one moment, you blink, and you lose everything. Loss had become rote memorization, and the cold mathematical certainty of calculation replaced despair. Was it any better? That despite it she could still feel herself shaking upon seeing them makes her wonder otherwise.

“Nobody is going to suffer.”

She could not help but remember the words she told herself so many years ago. They ring hollow. Her sunken eyes drip upon her failures, and yet she cannot weep.

They had eventually let her back in school. But she declined. By then, she already knew it was a lost cause. Why waste her time with something so trifling if it would cease to be, soon? That was what she told herself. A part of her wanted nothing more than to come, to enjoy what little time of normalcy she has with those she dedicated her mission to.

But she pushes that self down and drowns it in the black ocean. That smile, those adorable eyes, her voice. All of the music of life in the world had slowly grown into a deafening silence. At times, she could swear that she could watch herself act without needing to move. Everything becomes automatic, and your soul detaches from reality. She came to eventually understand that numbness is its own unique form of pain.

All she could do now is prepare. But for victory or for the inevitable is an entirely different question, and one that she could not possibly answer. They had one before, right? Why not a second time? It should be simple.

She had boiled it down to a science, after all.

Days before Walpurgisnacht, Junko goes to check on her daughter, as any mother would want to after the insanity of the past month. She wishes she had knocked before entering.

What she finds is a completely remodeled room. Not by someone with discerning taste, but by a madwoman. Where there used to be a delightfully simple wallpaper and some wall decorations, there is now a cascade of maps and diagrams written over with marker. Maps of the city, with spots labeled in arcane calculations. Physics equations. They weren’t teaching these at her grade level.

Under her bed but clearly sticking out for anyone to see, a variety of electronics of unknown origin, though she can clearly make out some radios among them. On her desk, miscellaneous remotes. Among them, she’s appalled to find what is obviously several different C4 detonators, most of which have been disassembled and tampered with. Beside them, a brick of it.

On all of the shelves line chemicals, gunpowder, and pipe bomb components. Her beloved stuffed animal collection nowhere to be found, the bed an unkempt wreck. There’s nothing in here to even indicate that it’s owned by a young girl. At this point, the presence of several assault rifles beside the bed doesn’t even surprise her. She has half a mind to lift her pillow and find a pistol. She does.

In the midst of her snooping, a voice comes from behind, “Mom. What are you doing in here?”

Junko whips around like a deer staring into headlights, “Madoka! I was just...checking on you.”

“Does that require you to investigate my room when I’m not in it?” Madoka shoots back without hesitation.

Junko can’t even find the words. Nothing in her life prepared her for this moment. Nothing could possibly even explain it. Right?

“Well?” Madoka asks. Her words are demanding, but her tone remains flat.

Junko breathes in deep and asks outright, “...What is all of this? You’ve never been like this before.”

Madoka sighs, resigning herself, “I’ve been like this about fifty times. You just don’t remember them.”

Obviously, Junko wouldn’t be able to understand this, “Fifty... How!? I’ve never been an absent parent! Even your father is concerned!”

Madoka shakes her head as she walks back to her bed, “Of course you wouldn’t remember. It was a different you, after all.”

Junko starts piecing this all together, but still has enough missing spaces to be able to deny the incoming truth, “Dammit, Madoka, are you seriously going to tell me you did all of this because of eight grade syndrome!? Magic doesn’t—”

“Are you really that naive?” Madoka asks, completely catching Junko off-guard. “I used to look up to you, Mom. Years ago. I thought you were cool, and could do anything. I thought you were a genius. I wanted to be just like you.” She trails off a bit, only to come back around at the end and correct her at last, “Magic is real, Mom. And it let me watch everything end. Over. And over. And over...”

Junko starts to feel herself shudder, but still can’t believe the words being said to her, “Madoka! I’m serious! You’re scaring everyone, you need to—”

Madoka transforms in front of her, which cuts her thought off completely. “It’s real.” she says, standing up and slowly approaching Junko, “I’m from the future. And the past. I lived over 60 times so I could find a way to save everyone. But I can’t figure it out.”

She lifts her hand up. A holographic series of cubes form within it, which form again into circles, and reveal her memories in full view. “In a few days, a storm will hit this city. They won’t be able to detect it beforehand or evacuate anyone, because it’s not really a storm. It’s a witch. A monster. A demon. If you saw it, you wouldn’t even be able to comprehend it. It’ll destroy everything, you know. It’ll just appear out of nowhere, and everything will end.”

Despite the severity of her words, there is no emotion behind them. Junko can’t speak. Madoka continues, closing her hand and thus erasing the images, “And I can’t stop it. No matter how hard I try. It always wins in some way. Sometimes it dies. Sometimes it doesn’t budge at all. Sometimes I almost die. But the one thing that’s always true...is that everyone else dies. Even you, Mom. Even Dad. Even Tatsuya.”

Both of them are silent. Utterly and completely. The mere thought of her family perishing like this brings tears to Junko’s eyes even if she can’t form the words to describe any of this. Then, Madoka says one word, “Run.”

Junko stands up immediately and refuses, “Absolutely not! We’re not leaving without you! I don’t care what all you’ve done, you’re still my daughter!”

“Don’t you get it?” Madoka asks as if it’s obvious. “I already lost. I might as well give up. The only reason I haven’t gone back again yet is because Homura is still alive, and I can still extract some information by fighting it again. I’m telling you to save yourselves. All you’re doing is talking to a corpse.”

“You’re...” Junko begins to sob, unable to cope with the idea that her own little Madoka was saying all of this. Never in her dreams had she even imagined the possibility. “You’re not a corpse! You‘re still here!” She hugs her, forcefully, “I can still feel you, talk to you, you’re still moving...”

“Then I should still try.” Madoka retorts, her logic inarguable. “With or without,” she insists “right? I never gave up hope. It’s all just one more failure.”

Junko steps back, staring at her. Her eyes go astray, unable to look her in the eyes for more than another second. She combs her fingers through her hair, shaking her head, tears still falling, “No... No, no, no... This...” She tries to slap herself.

“It’s not a dream. I tried to wake up a long time ago.” Madoka tells her. “I told you. It’s real. And for you, this is the only chance you’ll get. I can try again. You can’t. I’ll be gone in a few days, no matter what happens. So leave. Run. And make sure Tatsuya is happy. That’s all I want.”

Even if she wants to keep arguing, Junko physically can’t stay in this room anymore. Not for being forced out, but from the sheer malevolent aura of sorrow oppressing her. With that familiar space desecrated, she can only retreat to a more pure space, and collapse into bed. She hopes that when she wakes up, everything will be normal again. It won’t.

The time quickly arrived. As Madoka exits her house while the storm sirens blare, she crosses only an empty house. Those days had been dreadful, but they finally listened, for once.

Everything had been set in place the day prior. Every trap, every weapons installation, every missile rigged to fire and the push of a button, mortars loaded, coordinates calculated with surgical precision, and a pile of grief seeds to spare. All she had to do was wait for the circus to roll into town. That, it did, exactly as expected.

She doesn’t move as the familiars of Walpurgisnacht stride past her, stampeding over each other and missing her by only inches, and yet she remains unharmed. She pulls the string of her bow back, creating a pillar of light between her arms that aims into the sky. It surges with power, evacuating from the front and back in blazing pink infernos. She holds position as the parade dies down, and the facade of fate itself shows its abyssal maw.

“ Let’s dance. ”

She lets loose her bow, the arrow quickly growing to titanic proportions as every ounce of color is drained from her soul gem in a single attack. The arrow clashes with the barrier around the witch as she collapses to her knees. The barrier stretches and warps around the intruder, its seams being made apparent as the unfathomable amount of power becomes too much for it to absorb. Like a glass ceiling, it shatters in a split second.

Just in time. Madoka rises back up, another arrow knocked, her soul gem filled again. She lets loose once more, another fully draining attack, which pierces clean through the witch.

To no visible effect.

It lunges forward with its astral spines, the very shadows of its body becoming its weapons. She dodges, her gem becoming filled seconds later as she disappears and reappears across the nearby bridge. The familiars of Walpurgis follow, only for them to be immediately engulfed in flames as the charges planted beneath the bridge explode in a cascading chain reaction. She walks away, closer to the final explosion than most would be comfortable with, not even looking back before she disappears again.

A whistling of the wind is all, then, that the witch hears before several hundred rockets simultaneously collide with its face. It lets out a shrill shriek, followed by a cacophony of laughs. Its entire body spins backwards, and snakes of fire erupt from its dress to incinerate everything around it. The ground shakes beneath Madoka’s feet, the telltale sign that it’s lifting the very earth from its throne.

Unfortunately for it, the bombs are the only thing it lifts up. Each building it lifts explodes right in its face like the mindless monster it is, blowing it back further, directly into Madoka again who launches another barrage of rockets, sending it back forward. It hits a wall of fire, knocked back and forth like a pinball before being thrown into a series of skyscrapers. Each one explodes at its base, and mortars rain down like hellfire from above, collapsing even more buildings on top of the witch as it crashes into the ground below.

She looks down upon it in anticipation. It had never been so easy to defeat, and it never would be. As expected, it explodes forth from the rubble, launching a counterattack of incredible proportions. Those buildings that had been weaponized before remain so, wielded only by a different owner. Fire erupts from its mouth, engulfing everything around it, and yet Madoka persists.

As it rocked before, 68 times over, and as it would continue to for eternity, it now quakes with an unending absolute symphony of annihilation. For every district removed from existence, another follows, each following a predetermined pattern. Each a death of indescribable magnitude. What were once rays of hope would now shine down as rays of destruction, and what was once love becomes hatred, the only remaining driving factor.

By the time the city is halfway a smoldering crater, Madoka decides it’s time to end things. She triggers the remote that she had prepared beforehand, and puts her final stand into motion. Walpugisnacht hovers over the river. Predicted position.

“Perfect.” she mutters to herself. Only one problem.

Its shield is regenerating.

Her eyes widen, realizing that she needs to finish this now. Several missile carriers erupt from the river, firing a volley of dozens of cruise missiles as Madoka grits her teeth, Walpurgis being smashed backwards and launched into a stadium where the entire JSDF’s supply of plastic explosives detonates at once. The explosion can be seen from a province away.

She looks up at her final payload. Then down at Walpurgis. Its barrier is still repairing. She looks back up. The ballistic missile that had been called in separates its final stage, deploying several warheads below, each exploding with the force of a MOAB. She ducks behind the cover of demolished AC unit as the shockwave hits, the light of the explosion being so blinding that even when she closes her eyes, it’s still apparent just how bright it is.

When the blast’s aftershocks cease, she gazes upon the horizon to see only a mushroom cloud. Almost the entire city has been leveled. Stopping time, she runs up to the wreckage to see what remains. A crater, filled with billowing smoke. Her feet soak in the cascading water that begins to fill the crater. She continues to stare, waiting for any sign of life despite her supplies having been exhausted.

From the smoke, several tendrils of darkness form and impale her before she can even react. As they retract, the smoke explodes outwards, revealing a completed barrier and a still intact Walpurgisnacht. The familiars that form around her point and laugh as she collapses to her knees.

“...That’s not fair.” she pleads. “That’s not... That’s not fair... That’s not fair... That’s...” One of them pushes her, knocking her on her back into the water. She can see her own blood flowing downstream as they simply leave her there to die. Walpurgis floats overhead, content to ignore her existence in favor of devouring everyone else.

As her vision fades, all she can think of are those words. “It’s not fair.”

When she comes back to, it’s to a familiar voice. Somehow, she had not died. Perhaps she had just enough magic left to stop the bleeding. Alas, she can’t move. She can barely see, to make out the object of her adoration, and hear her.

“I want to redo my meeting with Madoka!” she yells.

Madoka begins to open her eyes, trying and failing to gasp for air. Her lungs must have nearly collapsed by now. Those words. The same ones she spoke so long ago. The ones that damned her. If she could find the strength to cry, she would.

“But this time...” Homura continues “...I want to be strong enough to help her!”

Madoka opens her eyes fully, trying in vain to reach out to Homura, to stop her. She can just barely lift it, but it’s no use. Homura can’t see her. Can’t hear her cry out. In her head, she can hear the first Homura she met screaming, begging her to stop. But she didn’t.

A blinding light erupts from Homura’s chest. It’s her soul gem.

“The irony...” Madoka thinks. Her pained grimace begins to morph into a wicked smile.

And just like that, in another flash of light, Homura is gone. Again.

And Madoka laughs . Harder than she has at any joke in her life. Harder than her body should permit her to. Harder than any normal person could imagine a person could laugh. As she cackles, she reaches out for a piece of exposed rebar and uses it to pull herself up with nothing but sheer will and spite. Despite her state, she stands, she approaches Kyubey, and she strangles him without another word until his head pops like a balloon.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” she says, her laugh and smile instantly disappearing.

“What a horrible joke. Awful. Terrible.” She transforms again.

She grasps the shield and balefully turns it, “ Fine. I’ll do it again. ”

Loop 69

As she always has and always will, Madoka wakes up from her death at the start of the endless April. There is no longer any emotion, only ambition and rote routine. She ignores everything as she leaves for that accursed school.

Looking at her reflection in the water, she finds that she can’t recognize the person looking back at her anymore. Not that she would want to, anyways. That person was weak. Unfit even to live. So she died, destroying herself at the altar of love. A notion that fills her with nostalgia and yearning.

It’s that day again. She’s thankful that it always starts here. No need to waste time waiting. Get right to the meat. The soft, warm, slightly salty meat.

She sees her.

Her heart sinks.

And she cannot speak.

Chapter Text

As she always has and always will, Homura wakes up from her nightmare at the start of the endless April. There is no longer any emotion, only ambition and rote routine. She proceeds with her usual plans up until the day that she officially “transfers” in. So far, nothing out of the ordinary. To think that she could have made the same wish that trapped Homura so long ago... It shook her to her core to merely think about. But that’s in the past now. This is a fresh start. There could be no mistakes this time.

It finally comes. First impressions are important, and Madoka always loved her hair, so she always puts extra effort into making it look stunning for her introduction. Of course, the introduction itself is always a pain. Without fail, the teacher always spells her name incorrectly. It’s confounding, really. But that is the least of her problems.

No, the most pressing issue when she enters the room is Madoka.

When she looks her way, as she always does, she doesn’t find the adorable little mess of a girl that she saw just yesterday. No. Her eyes are dead. Her hair is loose. She looks normal otherwise, but the way she reacts...

Madoka looks up at her, and her heart sinks. She cannot speak. Her mouth hangs wide open, her eyes dilating. This isn’t her Homura. But she recognizes her. She recognizes that ring, that stone, that introduction. This isn’t the one she sought to protect.

Or was it?

Tears begin to fall.

Homura, too, grows more and more disturbed in shock as the realization begins to hit her like a truck. Under normal circumstances, Madoka barely recognizes her. Maybe she has a dream about her...but never anything this extreme. Her fist clenches. She can’t believe it. She doesn’t want to. It can’t be true. It’s never been true.

And yet she sees it. The ring. That goddamn ring. She shudders in horror and clenches her teeth. When? How? Why?

Madoka lurches forward, preparing to leave her seat. She opens her mouth to speak. A second chance, at last.

Homura takes a step forward, the grip on her bag slipping until it falls to the floor. She opens her mouth to speak. She needs to know.

“Homura-chan!?”

“Madoka?”

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【ＥＮＤ　ＮＥＶＥＲ　ＥＮＤ】