Chapter Text
With a click of her shield, time stopped. The ground around her was sucked into nothingness, and the past ceased to exist. With a sudden stop, she was back in the hospital bed. She looked at the calendar beside her. March 16th. Homura had restarted her time loop. And she would stop at nothing to save Madoka from the chains of fate.
The cool air of early spring whistled through the Mitakihara trees. Madoka and her friends, Sayaka and Hitomi, strolled down the road to school. It would have been a peaceful morning, if not for Sayaka’s constant teasing.
“So you want to become a popular girl like Hitomi-chan, Madoka-chan?” Sayaka taunted. “And you’ve decided to start changing your images with these hair ribbons, huh?
“You’re wrong!” Madoka pouted. “My mom made me-”
“I see!” Sayaka flashed an assertive smile. “You even got your mom to tell you about the secret to becoming popular! How shameless!”
Sayaka moved in to tickle Madoka. “Let me show you what happens to bad girls like you!” Hitomi cleared her throat loudly, grabbing the attention of Sayaka and Madoka.
Once they were all in class, Miss Saotome was very irritated.
“I want you all to listen very closely!” She stomped on one leg. “When frying an egg, should it be friend sunny side-up or over hard?” Pointing her baton in a dramatic fashion, she asked, “Mr Nakazawa, what do you think?!”
“Huh?! Well, uh… they can be fried either way, can’t they?”
“Precisely!” Saotome shouted. “They can be fried either way! And it should go without saying that judging a woman’s attractiveness by the way she fries her eggs is the gravest of mistakes!” As she delivered this line, she snapped the baton in her hand. “Now, girls, I want you to remember that you must never date men who insist they can’t eat fried eggs done over hard.
Sayaka turned to Madoka. “Guess it didn’t work out.”
“Yeah, guess it didn’t.” Madoka smiled softly.
“And boys, you’d better not grow up so petty as to fuss over how your eggs are done, okay?!” Saotome breathed deeply. “Well then, now that that’s out of the way, let’s welcome our new transfer student!”
“Hey, shouldn’t that have come first?” Sayaka joked.
“Come in, Miss Akemi!”
An imposing girl, coated by elegance and wrapped in mystery strode into the room. A cold wind followed her footsteps and blew through her thick, black hair. She caught the attention of every student.
Then, she tripped. Making a loud whump, Holding her head, she picked herself back up slowly. Saotome looked at her worryingly. “Ah- Miss Akemi has been in the hospital for quite a while. Be sure t-”
“No, I’m fine.” Akemi turned to the class. “I just slipped on my shoelace. That’s all.”
“Is that so…” Saotome brought a pen to the whiteboard, and began to write the name Akemi, but the girl beside her politely took the tool from her hands and wrote down Akemi Homura. She looked back to the class, and everyone softly applauded.
During a passing period, Homura sat in silence. Usually, she was approached by the girls, all of whom would admire her sophisticated aura. But… did she mess it up this time? Would her tumble spell the failure of yet another loop?
“Uh, you had a pretty bad fall back there, miss Akemi…” Madoka approached her. “Do you want me to escort you to the nurse’s office?”
Homura nearly shed a tear. No, Madoka would never neglect her. That’s why she’d been after her all this time. It’s why she ever started in the first place.
“Yes, please. I haven’t been feeling well.” Homura stood up.
“Do you mind if I call you Homura-chan?” Madoka asked, as they walked together.
“No, go ahead.” Homura nodded. “Should I call you Madoka-chan?”
“Oh! I was about to introduce myself, but I guess I already did.” Madoka smiled. “Wait, did I?”
“I overheard it from sensei.” Homura lied through her teeth. “My apologies.”
“Homura-chan, huh?” Madoka twiddled her thumbs.
“Yes?”
“Oh! Nothing, I just… thought it was a cool name!”
Homura didn’t respond.
“It’s like ‘flame,’ right?”
Homura stopped in her tracks.
Madoka nearly bumped into her. “Homura-chan?”
“Madoka, if someone- some thing offers you a miracle, reject them. Reject them and never look back.”
“Huh?” Madoka looked confused. “Uh, sure…”
Homura turned around, and once again walked to the nurse office.
“Hey Homura-chan…” Madoka said timidly.
Homura didn’t look at Madoka.
“Are you okay?”
Homura ignored her. Madoka ran up to meet her. “It just… sounds like you’ve had a bad experience.”
Homura froze. “What do you mean?” She muttered.
Madoka brought her hand to her cheek. “Like… you got ripped off or something.”
Homura gasped.
“Or… you had a bad relationship experience.”
Homura’s pupils dilated.
“Or… maybe someone you trusted did something mean to you."
Homura’s heart beat out of her chest.
"Or-"
Homura grabbed Madoka's shoulder. "Please stop talking."
"Homura-chan…" Madoka whimpered. "I'm sorry. Was I wrong about something?"
"No." Homura sniffled. "No, you…" Homura wiped her nose. "Yes, you were wrong. None of those things happened to me."
"Homura-chan, do you need to talk to someone?"
“No, I don’t.” Homura turned around. “But thanks for asking.” Homura walked to the nurse’s office without Madoka’s assistance.
The rest of the school day passed in a blur. Homura showed herself to be unrivaled in mathematics, solving a multitude of equations without breaking a sweat. Everyone in the class watched in awe. A bit later, Homura casually broke the prefecture-wide high jump record. Not even the P.E. teacher believed it at first. Girls crowded Homura.
“That was amazing!”
“How did you do that?!”
Homura dramatically flicked her hair. “Ladies, please…” She said lustfully, glancing at Madoka.
Madoka shot back a look of confusion, and inched closer to Sayaka.
“Hey, Madoka-chan. Do you mind if we stopped at the music store on the way home?” Sayaka asked.
“That’s fine.” Madoka replied. “Buying another CD for Kamijo?”
“Something like that.” Sayaka waved her off.
On their way to the music store, Madoka saw Homura walking past them, still holding her school bag. Madoka waved at her. Homura noticed her, and walked over.
“Homura-chan! What a coincidence!” Madoka giggled.
“Yes. A coincidence indeed.” Homura responded with a monotone voice.
“Yeah, that’s crazy.” Sayaka crept next to Madoka. “Hey, you really think this is a coincidence? I mean, wasn’t she eyeing you earlier?” She whispered.
“I’m sure it is.” Madoka replied under her breath. “I mean, it’s not li-” Madoka spotted Homura’s bag wriggling.
“Homura-chan…” Madoka uttered. “What’s in your bag?”
“Nothing important.” Homura stared at her blankly.
“Really?” Sayaka scoffed. “It just moved again.”
Homura looked over to Sayaka. “Nevermind that. What kind of music are you guys looking for?”
“ Madoka. ” A small voice reached out to Madoka. “ Please, help me. ”
“What?” Madoka asked nervously. “Who said that?”
Homura and Sayaka both eyed down Madoka.
“Who are you talking to?” Sayaka questioned.
“ Madoka.” The voice appeared again. “ Help me. I’m in the bag. ”
“They say they’re in your bag…” Madoka quivered.
“Huh?” Sayaka grunted.
“There’s nothing in this bag.” Homura stated. “You’re probably just hearing lyrics to a song.”
“Hang on.” Sayaka insisted. “I want to know what’s in that bag too. Give it here.” Sayaka walked towards.
“What bag?” Homura questioned innocently.
“The one in your ha-” Homura’s bag had disappeared. “What?”
Homura, her hands completely empty, squinted at Sayaka. “I don’t have a bag.”
Madoka glanced around the store, and sure enough, there was no bag to be seen.
“Then… where’d it go?” Sayaka demanded. “Madoka, can you still hear that voice?”
“I don’t… think so…” Madoka tried listening, but no faint voice came to her head.
“Whatever.” Sayaka groaned, and leaned next to Madoka. “Madoka, I’m leaving. She weirds me out.”
Madoka nodded. “So, Homura-chan…” She began, as Sayaka creeped past them. “What are you here for?”
“I was just looking for some CDs.” Homura responded. “What about you?”
“Well I just went here with- nevermind. What kind of CDs are you looking for?”
“I’m not sure.” Homura contemplated. “I’m just bored of listening to the same songs. It gets kind of boring, doing the same thing over and over, you know?”
“Hmmmm… have you ever listened to ClariS? They just released a new single.”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Here, listen to this.” Madoka brought a pair of demo headphones over Homura’s ears.
Homura started bobbing her head to the beat of the song. “It has a sad tone, but it’s hopeful. Like love in the face of despair. I like it.” She praised, bringing the headphones down to the rack.
“Will you buy it?” Madoka smiled.
Homura looked into Madoka’s glossy eyes, and sighed. “No, I don’t think I will. In fact...” Homura turned away. “I don’t really feel like looking for cds.”
Madoka faced her. “Oh, well… Me neither, I guess.”
“Did you want to go anywhere else?”
“Come to think of it… Want to go clothes shopping?”
Homura’s eyes widened, and she drooled over the mental image of Madoka wearing an elegant wedding dress.
“Homura… chan?”
“Yes, I would like to do that.”
“Did you space out for a second there?”
“I did. My apologies.”
“Yeah…” Madoka nervously giggled.
Homura stared down Madoka from behind a mannequin display as she browsed the aisle.
“Um… is there anything you’re interested in, Homura-chan?” Madoka faked a smile.
“Not particularly.” Homura didn’t move.
“Because… you’re kind of creeping me out like that…”
Homura looked stunned in rejection. “Sorry…”
“No, it’s okay!” Madoka fibbed. She couldn’t shake the feeling Homura wanted something out of her. “It’s just that…” Madoka turned to Homura. “Homura-chan…”
Homura waited in anticipation.
“Is there something you want from me?”
Homura didn’t move.
“I just feel like…” Madoka’s eyes flickered. “You’re obsessed with me, you know?”
“Oh.” Homura shuddered. “ Ohhh…”
“I think you should… Maybe…” Madoka grinned as hard as she could. “Tone it down a little?”
“Yeah…” Homura sniffled.
Madoka approached her. “Look, do you need a therapist?”
“No. I have you.” Homura replied sternly.
“Oh.” Madoka’s face filled with fear. “ Ohhh…”
“Is something wrong?” Homura asked.
“I… think I’ll go home now.”
“...Oh.”
“Yeah… See you later, Homura-chan.”
“Yeah… See you.” Homura solemnly watched Madoka leave the store, leaving Homura surrounded only by faceless mannequins. Homura punched herself in the face. How could she mess up this badly? And on the first day?! She felt too depressed to restart the loop, and chose to stroll back to her house, with her head hung low.
“Are you Akemi Homura?” Homura was confronted by a confident, upstanding girl, who wore her hair in drills. Mami Tomoe, bold as ever, stood tall, blocking Homura’s path. Not one other person was on the road around them. Homura responded only with an empty expression. “Kyubey tells me you left him in a bag, on the roof, tied up with duct tape. Did you do that?”
“Yes.” Homura stated. “He was being an annoyance.”
“Kyubey also tells me he was looking to contract with two girls named Kaname Madoka and Miki Sayaka.” Mami glared down Homura with a serious face. “Were you aware of this?”
“Yes, I was.” Homura responded.
“Akemi Homura, were you attempting to prevent Kaname Madoka and Miki Sayaka from contracting?” In a flash of light, Mami transformed into her lacy magical girl outfit, and pointed an ornamented musket at Homura. “And if you were, what reason would you have for doing so?”
“Tomoe Mami…” Homura flicked her hair. Without another word, Homura summoned her shield, and paused the time around her. She strolled past Mami, not giving her a glance in the process.
Mami looked around. “Huh?” She exclaimed. “Where’d she go?” But Homura was nowhere to be seen. Mami grunted, and returned back to her school uniform in a bright shimmer.
“Kyubey. Do you know what that was?”
“I’m afraid I don’t.” A small, cat like animal projected his thoughts telepathically to Mami. “My best guess is teleportation magic.”
“But didn’t she contract with you?”
“I can’t say for sure. If she did, I have no recollection of that event.”
Mami groaned. “I don’t get that girl. She just showed up today, and acts like she knows everything.”
“What if she does?” Kyubey perked up.
“That’d be ridiculous.” Mami sneered.
“You never know. It could have been a part of her wish.”
“You’re not helping.” Mami sighed. “I’m gonna go drink some tea.”
Homura sat brooding upon a tall building. She looked down upon the industrial hellscape below her, the wind howling through her hair. Pulling out her soul gem, a distinct blackish mire sprouted through its roots.
“Akemi Homura.” A screeching voice was broadcast into her mind. She turned around and was met with the deep, crimson eyes of Kyubey, standing behind her.
“Incubator.” Homura greeted him with a tone of contempt.
“I recommend you hunt witches.” Kyubey advised. “Soul gem distortion can be fatal… But I’m sure you would know that.”
“Then why come all the way here?”
“Because your activity today is a phenomenon I’ve never witnessed.” Kyubey reminisced. “If I’m not mistaken, you’ve used very little magic recently. And yet, your soul gem has the stains of ten battles. That is why I am here, Akemi Homura. I would like to know what has happened to your soul gem.”
Homura grimaced. “Something like you wouldn’t understand.”
“I just said I didn’t.”
Homura moved her gaze back to the city. “It’s beyond you incubators.”
Kyubey sighed. “I don’t understand you humans.” Walking back into the darkness from whence he came, he glared at Homura. “Heed this, Akemi Homura.” The glint in his eyes flared red through the night sky. “Find a grief seed soon. This is more important than anything else. More than Kaname Madoka.” The red lights disappeared into shadow, and Kyubey warned, “Someone like you should know that.”
Homura flicked her hair, and continued looking down, giving no response.
Homura sat down for her second day of class. For this timeline, at least. Before Miss Saotome could enter, however, Madoka started glancing quickly at Homura. Homura’s heart pumped out of her chest. Breathing heavily, she sneaked peeks at her, trying to read her next move. Was Madoka thinking about how much she hated her? Or was it something else entirely? Homura thought she blew it yesterday, but something inside her hoped she was wrong about that, even if she could restart the time loop whenever she wanted.
Madoka rose out of her seat. Homura froze up. Sweat fell down her forehead. She wasn’t ready for whatever came next.
“Homura-chan…” Madoka called.
Homura creaked her head over to Madoka. Trembling, she nodded her head quickly.
“Would you like to… come to my house after school?”
Homura nodded again, her face pale as snow.
“Um… here’s my address…” Madoka said, handing her a slip of paper.
Homura nodded once again, too stunned to breathe. She took the paper, and avoided gazing at Madoka.
What just happened? Homura looked at the paper. It was Madoka’s real address, for sure. Homura would know. But… why? What was Madoka trying to do?
Homura let out a slight smile. Desires invaded her psyche. Maybe… just maybe… this timeline would be worth it.
Homura’s hand hesitated.. This is happening, right? Homura looked at the slip of paper in her hand. The address written on it was the same as the house in front of her. She crumpled it up. Now was not the time to back down. She rang the doorbell. A sweet, glasses-wearing man opened the door. Madoka’s father.
“Hello.” Homura greeted.
“Ah, you must be Akemi-san. Come in. Would you like something to drink?”
“No thanks, I’m fine.” Homura stepped into the contemporary building. Despite living the same month over and over, Homura hadn’t been in the Kaname residence in recent memory. She found it a little pretentious, but considering her interior decoration, she didn’t have much room to speak.
“Where is Madoka?” Homura asked.
“She’s just in her room.” Madoka’s father said, and gestured to a brown door.
“Thank you.” Homura bowed. She walked over and opened the door, to be met with… not Madoka.
A broad woman with glasses and short hair sat in a pink bed, who held a notepad, faced Homura. Even though the wallpaper was a pink flower pattern and childish stuffed animals sat in the bed… This was Madoka’s room, right?
“You must be Akemi Homura.” She said. “My name is Tsuda Yumi. It’s nice to meet you.”
Homura could only stand in confusion. “M-Madoka?” She asked, turning around.
“ Homura-chan.” Madoka grinned creepily, and shoved Homura into the room before quickly slamming the door.
Homura stared at Yumi like a deer in headlights.
“I suppose you may be a bit confused.” Yumi admitted. “I’ve been asked to serve as your therapist.”
“By who?” Homura asked.
“Kaname Madoka. She tells me… You seem a bit fixated on her.”
“Me?” Homura’s heart pounded. “I-I-”
“Would you like to take a seat?” Yumi motioned to the chair.
Homura’s heart beat harder. Madoka’s chair!?
“Oh, I wiped it down, so you don’t need to be concerned.”
Homura sighed.
“You seem disappointed.”
“Sorry. I just thought I would be able to smell Madoka’s chair.” Homura stated.
Yumi stared at her, unblinking.
“Joking! I was joking!” Homura was not joking.
Yumi blinked awkwardly. “Right, then. Well, I should start off by saying that everything we discuss here will be confidential. Any further sessions- if you wish to have them- will be at my office.”
Homura nodded.
“With that said, I must ask you an important question.” Yumi looked directly at Homura. “Do you, as an individual, consent to this meeting?”
“I…” Homura thought back to the store. How Madoka looked at her. Back to Walpurgisnaucht. Back to watching everyone die. Memories she thought she buried deep within. Scars etched into her psyche. Madoka’s words echoed in her mind. “ Do you need a therapist? ”
Maybe this wasn’t the worst idea.
“I do, yes.”
“Good.” Yumi gave a heartwarmed smile. “Now, Homura- Do you mind if I call you Homura?”
“Go ahead.” Homura responded.
Yumi nodded. “How are you feeling today, Homura?”
“I’m not sure.” Homura sighed. “I was pretty excited to visit Madoka’s house, but…”
“Are you disappointed?”
“If I’m being honest, yes. No offense, or anything.”
“It’s alright, I understand. Do you know why I am here today?”
“I think I do.” Homura thought back. “You were asked by Madoka, right?”
“Well, do you know why Madoka asked me?”
“I believe she thinks I’m creepy.”
“Not exactly.”
Homura’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait, what?”
“Madoka believes that you’ve become infatuated with her over a very short period of time. She assumes it’s because of something… traumatic you’ve gone through.” Yumi said, looking down at her notes.
Homura looked down to the ground. “Is that so…”
Yumi didn’t respond.
Homura stayed silent for a while. Every time she started over, she did it for Madoka. She never took any time to think about any of it. Every day, every little interaction, every death… meant nothing to her. She’d seen it all hundreds of times. The only light in this endless tunnel was Madoka, forever kept out of her reach.
Before she knew it, Homura was crying. She tried to wipe her tears, but more fell. She covered her eyes with her hands, and silently wept for a minute or two.
“I’m sorry, I-”
“It’s alright. Feel free to let it all out.” Yumi reassured, with Homura nodding in response.
Homura sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. What about you?”
“Well, I…” Homura thought for a second. She probably shouldn’t tell Yumi about magical girls, witches and Kyubey. She decided to bend the story… just a little bit. “A couple of years ago… my best friend died. It’s been a little hard, but… Madoka… in a way… remind me of her.”
Yami nodded. “It’s okay to feel that way.”
“Thank you.” Homura wiped her face. “I feel like… I just want… Madoka to be happy…”
“Why is that?” Yami asked.
Homura fumbled with her word. “It’s like… you know… if Madoka’s happy, I think I would be happy.”
“Do you feel you’re only allowed to be happy if Madoka is as well?”
“Not really... but I don’t feel happy any other way.”
“If Madoka was sad, would you be sad?”
“Yes, I would be.”
“I see…” Yami brought her hand to her chin. “You must be a very nice friend, Homura.”
Homura blushed. “R-really?”
“Yes. But I think you should prioritize yourself just a little bit more.”
“W-what do you mean?”
“Homura, you deserve to be happy. But you shouldn’t place that in the hands of others.”
“I… don’t think I understand…”
“Let’s see… Homura, do you have any hobbies?”
“Not particularly…”
“Well, why don’t you try doing something new?”
Homura pondered on that thought. “Like what?”
“What’s something you’ve always wanted to do?”
“I don’t know.” Homura replied, resisting the urge to say ‘Madoka.’ “I’ve been in a hospital for a good portion of my life, so I haven’t really had any opportunities…”
“Then now’s the perfect time, isn’t it?” Yumi beamed. “You could go hiking… or photographing… or go to a museum…”
“Hiking, huh…” Homura thought for a second. She mostly patrolled urban areas for witches. Mitakihara wasn’t completely lacking in nature exhibits, so going hiking was an option.
“Yeah, I think I’ll go hiking.” Homura admitted.
“That’s great! Ah, and looks like we’re right on schedule. What do you think, same time next week?”
“Sure. Where’s your office?”
“Oh, here’s my card.” Yumi gave Homura a sleek, plastic card, with Yumi’s information printed on it. “Need a disinfectant wipe?”
“Uh, I’m good, thanks.” Homura responded.
“Well, I’ll be seeing you, then. Goodbye, Homura.”
“Bye, Yumi.” Homura tried not to freak out at the thought of turning Madoka’s doorknob, and left the room.
Madoka’s father turned to Homura. “Hello, Akemi-san. Did you have a good session?”
“I did, yes.” Homura admitted, returning to her signature monotone voice.
“That’s good. Would you like to stay here a while?”
“No thanks. I have homework I need to finish.”
“Alright. Have a nice day, Akemi-san.”
“Thanks, you too.”
Homura already finished her homework. But something told her to give Madoka some space. And anyway, she needed a grief seed. She approached the front door.
“Akemi-san?” Madoka’s father called out.
“Y-yes?” Homura was slightly worried.
“Whatever is troubling you, I hope you can overcome it.” He said, with a tone of sincerity.
“Thank you.”
Homura exited the house, looking forward to that hike.