Chapter Text
Grief felt a lot like apathy.
A world where Madoka had never existed was gray. Food became ash in Homura’s mouth. Joy was forever out of reach. The only reason Homura could find to get out of bed was to fight to keep Madoka’s Wish safe.
.
.
.
Grief felt a lot like agony.
Every breath Homura took that Madoka didn’t was a million knives stabbing into her lungs. Every time she thought of Madoka, acid tears burnt her eyes. Sandpaper ran through her throat as she curled up in her bed at night, frantically repeating Madoka’s name like a prayer, desperate not to forget it the way everyone else had.
.
.
.
Grief felt a lot like rage.
How
dare
the Incubators force them into a situation where Madoka had to abandon her? How
dare
Mami and Sayaka and Kyoko all die, making Madoka feel like this was the only way she could stop Walpurgisnacht? How
dare
Homura be so weak that Madoka felt the need to sacrifice herself to save the world?
How
dare
Madoka leave her behind like she was nothing, like they were nothing, like she wasn’t the center of Homura’s whole world?
.
.
.
The Incubators, sinful beasts that they were, could not allow for a world where Magical Girls didn’t suffer meaninglessly. Their avarice forced them to see the Law of Cycles - all that was left of Madoka - as ineffectual and inefficient, so they had to go back to a system they couldn’t even remember.
Homura hated Kyubey with everything she had left within her. How could he see any part left of Madoka as anything less than perfection? How dare he seek to manipulate her gift back into his original atrocities?
They tortured Homura, of course. Kyubey forced her to live through the most excruciating pain she could imagine for so long that time ceased to have meaning.
Homura without Madoka was simply a hollow porcelain doll. So who could blame her for splintering? For shattering so dramatically?
Her labyrinth was the world of dreams, a world in which she could maybe feel peace again, which meant of course it was fake. Homura had never been allowed happiness, its existence within her soul was enough to awaken her to the facade she was in.
A world where she had finally become a witch made far more sense.
But Madoka
and Sayaka and Nagisa
fought to save her; she was finally going to ascend to Madoka’s paradise.
Maybe she should have accepted that.
But hadn’t Madoka said she never would have chosen to leave her friends? And yes, Madoka had been without the memories that lent context to why she had made the choices she made, but didn’t that mean she was also free from Kyubey’s manipulation and machinations?
Homura could not live within a world that made Madoka miserable. She could never leave Madoka isolated. Madoka had to be happy, she had to be. She deserved it more than anyone.
And the thing was, Madoka was better than her, but Homura would always be her protector, her guard dog. That had been her wish.
Which made her the closest thing Madoka had to an equal.
And Madoka was a god, so to stay her equal Homura had to grasp at apotheosis too. If that meant ripping the strings of Madoka’s divinity away from her, that’s what she would do.
If Madoka was God, then Homura would be her Lucifer. If Madoka was the world’s Hope, Homura would be its Love
no she wasn’t Love, she was Despair, she was Selfishness, she was Avarice
.
Homura would twist the universe into her playground. She would change everything to allow the Magical Girls happiness, because that was how she could give Madoka peace. They would have no responsibilities, no fights, no grief.
What did it matter if Homura alone would suffer within this world? That could be put on Kyubey and his people - it didn’t matter as long as Madoka could be happy.
But she had always known this would fall apart too. She had said so to Madoka - one day Madoka would be her enemy and Homura would stand against her and her army alone.
Homura had always known that being Lucifer meant being without God. So when Madoka remembered and fought against her for freedom, Homura wasn’t surprised.
What did surprise her was when Madoka stood in front of her defeated form and offered absolution.