Chapter Text
All the lights in the Kaname household were out, save for one. Madoka cannot sleep. She had just learned magical girls are real and two of them go to her school! And she had the potential to become one too?
“Madoka Kaname”
The girl sits right up in bed as she hears the cat, rabbit, thing? As she hears Kyubey’s voice in her head.
“May I come in?”
She turns to her bedroom window. The glow from the lamp by her bedside allows her to easily make out the silhouette from behind the curtain. She pulls it back and opens the window a crack, allowing the white fluff ball to slip into her room without the slightest disturbance. He wastes no time making himself comfortable on the bed before asking her a question.
“Have you thought about what you’d like to wish for?”
Madoka stirs, letting out a slight chuckle.
“Heh, I’ve been thinking about it all day, but it’s harder than I thought.”
The more she pondered this new world she found herself in, one of witches and wishes, soul gems and contracts, her mind kept drifting back to the mysterious transfer student.
“Homura…” Madoka whispered.
She didn’t really know her, but she had insisted on addressing her on a first name basis. And oddly enough, it rolled off the tongue so naturally for the young Kaname.
“Do you know what her wish was?” Madoka quietly asked.
“I’m afraid that information is beyond me. Would better understanding her help you settle on a wish?”
“Maybe..” Madoka said with a humourless laugh.
She thought back to the first time they met. Miss Saotome had been ranting about eggs or something when Homura made her perfect entrance into the classroom. Her raven hair swaying to the rhythm of her gait with lavender eyes as piercing as one’s talons.
Well, not the first, first time, but she wasn’t sure if that one really counted. From the blurry depths of her subconscious, Madoka made out the clearest image she possibly could of her strange dream. There she was, standing upon the mangled imitation of a platform and railing. The blue sky turned grey, all while several skyscrapers swirled around what could only be described as some eldritch monstrosity from her worst nightmares. But then Homura appeared, perched upon the dying city, ready to make her last stand.
She wasn’t exactly sure how much of it applied to the real world, but she wouldn’t put any of it past her. From what she’d gathered, she could and would take on such a monster without a second thought.
Madoka couldn’t even meet her gaze without ducking behind Sayaka for cover. She couldn’t clear the highest rung or wrap her head around, really any of the teacher’s ramblings on integrals, or was it intervals? And she couldn’t help anyone if she tried.
But she could. All she had to do was…
Don’t change. Stay as you are, Madoka Kaname. Stay as you are. Forever.
But, she didn’t like who she was.
“Kyubey, if I became a magical girl, would I be anywhere as good as her?”
He paused.
“Madoka, if you became a magical girl, there’s no doubt you’d be much more powerful than her.”
“Huh?” Madoka couldn’t half believe what she was hearing.
“I’ve never met another girl with the enormous potential you have!”
She had to adjust her position because clearly something was amiss.
“Y-you’re joking, right?”
“Not in the slightest. Why, you could unravel the fabric of the universe if you so chose!”
That all sounded mighty and powerful, but there was really only one wish on her mind.
Madoka pulled up her blanket, tucking herself in. With a determined huff, she said:
“I wish I could be just like Homura”.
With that, she reached over, flicking out the light and closed her eyes.
-
Madoka opens them again to be bombarded by blinding white light coming from all directions. Picture frames depicting disturbing imagery and maps of Mitakihara were suspended midair, in the shadow of a massive pendulum dangling over her head. The whole atmosphere felt as if she was on some sort of conveyor belt towards her execution. The room’s colors, dull as one too. When she looked down, she was resting on a couch? In her school uniform no less?
She stands up, head still ringing from the visual bombardment of.. Wherever this is.. This must be another nightmare. The many couches are arranged in an indiscernible pattern, not too far off from all the chairs scattered around her own house actually!
White void surrounds her on all sides save for a single wall of shear black. Madoka slowly approaches her only means of orientation. She nervously runs her fingers through one another when she feels- Is that a ring? Lo and behold, a metallic ring sits wrapped around her finger, a pink tear drop engraved into her nail.
Raising her hand up to the wall, it phases right through it! Her hand looks as if it had been severed had she not been able to flex it from the other side.
With a deep breath, Madoka allowed her whole body to be submerged in the darkness.
Having crossed the barrier, she’s standing in a small room? Green, western style wallpaper lines the walls, illuminated by a dingy light above swaying back and forth to the slightest vibration.
Before she can take it all in, she stumbles over something, crashing into a pile of.. Ammunition?! Boxes, crates, and rounds practically swallow the floor. As if her rapidly growing headache needed literal bullets to the face.
Where the heck was she? Who would even live here?!
Her questions would be answered as she looked up to a rectangular mirror with plain black edges, tucked into the corner. She can see herself, locked in a cold spotlight.
That long dark hair, those lavender eyes. Mouth agape, she was the spitting image of the transfer student.
“..Homura?”
-
Homura’s eyes blink awake to a gentle sunbeam welcoming a new day. The blanket she was under was nice and warm, the walls a soft pink and an army of plushies stood guard during her slumber. She could soak in the serenity if not for the fact…
This was Madoka’s room.
Why was she here? Homura throws off the blankets and hops right out of bed, finding herself cloaked in peach pajamas.
With all haste, she crosses the room to the nearest mirror, confirming the worst. Standing before her was the object of her obsession. The shining light in this tangled web of despair. That pretty pink hair resting on her shoulders, those adorable pink eyes blinking in disbelief along with her. Her heart pounds and she forgets to breathe.
Her brain was taken out and scrambled against asphalt. All of it assembled itself as a bright red blush covering her entire face.
Her body was overcome with a million incoherent feelings she failed to place. Admiration? Disgust? This was a sin. An affront to nature.
“So Madoka Kaname, did your wish come true?”
That voice. If she wasn’t already seeing red, she was now. “Madoka” whips around, that thing is on her bed. Only the deepest eye daggers she holds reserved for this creature, staring it down with the fury of a thousand suns. Of course it would be responsible for this.
The Incubator’s own eyes remain lifeless as ever.
“I see. You're not Madoka Kaname, are you?”
“...”
“We can speak later, I have some business to tend to”
And just like that it’s gone.
A shame, really. A second longer and she’d have had her hands around its throat and squeezed until both red jewels popped out of their sockets.
-
Homura still couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She winced in front of the bathroom mirror as the ribbon she had been meticulously tying for the last five minutes nearly came undone. It didn't help that the Kaname house was practically made of mirrors. A cubic cacophony of fractals all screaming the same thing. Here Madoka was, and yet, that was a lie. She is a mockery, a stain on the divine. Everything is wrong.
“Madoka, you got in pretty late last night, didn’t-cha?” Madoka’s mother mumbles, toothbrush still in her mouth.
“Apologies, Mi-Sayaka and I got turned around leaving the CD store” Even the sound of Madoka’s voice slid off the imposter’s tongue like vomit.
“Formal today, are we? Where’d my baby girl pick up such manners?” Mrs Kaname teases, ruffling her hand through her daughter’s hair, undoing all her hard work.
-
Homura tapped her plate with her fork. She twirled an egg yolk on its end, round and round until it latched onto the prongs. She yanked the fork back up but the gold mucus stuck to it like glue.
“Not hungry, sweetie?” Mr. Kaname asks, pouring out a carafe into a mug.
“No, I’m okay..” she mumbles with a quiet voice.
“Why sis not eating?” Tatsuya questions from his high chair.
“What’s wrong, don’t you like your breakfast?” Madoka’s father asks again.
She nudges a cherry tomato, bringing it up to her face. With a drawn out bite and subsequent gulp she allows it to slip down her esophagus. Today was not going to be easy.
Homura left the house in a rush, the sooner she was not deceiving Madoka’s wonderful family the better. From here, she knew Madoka’s walk to school like the back of her own hand. The cobblestone path bordered on one side by green trees, flourishing in the first bouts of spring. The other, lined with carved stones against the calm, defrosted river.
This was bad. Very bad. If her theory was correct and Madoka had taken her place, then she would need to fight witches to collect grief seeds. Or- An image of black smoke escaping Madoka’s lifeless body was conjured to the front of her mind, then just as quickly forced back down.
But then, she could get hurt, or worse. And not only would she be gone, but Homura would be trapped in this timeline, this skin. Forever.
Homura lurched forward, turning to the river and cradling her stomach. While fighting to prevent all the tea and cake from yesterday from exploding all over the walkway, she remembered a breathing exercise Madoka taught her long ago.
Deep breath in, one, two, three, and out. In and out.
She repeated those words until the wave passed and she found the resolve to stand upright again. She needed to find her.
“Hey! Madoka!”
There’s a short blue haired girl and another with wavy green hair just up ahead. Upon closer inspection, Homura can make out the beady red eyes of the Incubator sitting upon Miki’s shoulder.
Compose yourself.
With a deep breath, the winded imposter pressed on.
“Good morning!” Miss Shizuki greets with a smile.
“Oh, good morning…” Homura grips her hands together, holding her arms behind her back, trying as hard as she can not to bury her face in her sleeve.
Sayaka performs an exaggerated twirl on the spot, showing off her new accessory with a less than subtle wink in her direction.
Caught between murderous rage and a need to crawl out of this skin, Homura decides it best to just keep walking. Much to the blue hair girl’s dismay.
“She didn’t even react!” Sayaka stresses through Kyubey’s mind. “Can she not see you anymore?”
“I assure you, she can. Try using my telepathy.”
“Oh yeah!” Sayaka looks over to Kyubey, smiling on her shoulder. She hadn’t believed him at first when he said he was invisible to most humans, but Hitomi here was none the wiser!
“Hey! Madoka! I’m talking to you from inside your own head!”
She does her best to ignore it.
“You can too! Kyubey said we can send our thoughts to each other or something!”
She stopped. If she were to answer via telepathy, they might hear her voice, not Madoka’s. How she was already this close to blowing her cover was truly baffling.
“Can you hear me?”
“…”
“Homura Akemi?”
Homura froze. She heard that thing’s voice in her head once again. A message for her only. She spins backwards, hair swaying to her motions as she looks the incubator in the eye.
“I thought so.”
She wished she could pop its head like a water balloon right then and there.
Sayaka was bewildered. Something was off about Madoka today. She was composed, focused. If looks could kill, boy she wished she wasn’t in the firing line of whatever had possessed her this morning. The two were in a standoff.
“Um, what’s going on between you two? Why do you keep staring so intensely at each other?”
They both forgot about Hitomi.
“Uhhh..” Sayaka turned, unsure what to make of what was unfolding right now.
The green haired girl dropped her bag with a gasp!
“You haven’t spoken a word to each other, but already have an entire conversation with just your eyes alone!”
“Huh?!“ Sayaka erupted, stunned by what she was hearing, unwittingly turning her face a shade of red.
“But for two people to become that intimate after one night..” She trails off.
“Hitomi, really, i-it’s not like that-“
“Girls can’t love girls! Girls can’t love girls!” She sang at the top of her lungs. Her voice slowly fading with her into the distance.
“Hey! You forgot your bag!” Sayaka finished.
Homura let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She silently thanked Miss Shizuki for saving her from her foolishness.
-
Homura’s gaze shifted across the classroom, searching for well, her. She scanned behind the foggy windows divided by golden frames then back to the digital white board at the front. Sayaka picked up on her discomfort and shot her another message.
“Hey, if you’re worried about that psycho chick approaching you again, I can punch her lights out for you!”
Homura stiffened at that comment for a second.
“Besides, Mami’s here!”
“If she gives you any trouble, just call and I’ll be there to straighten her out.” Mami’s voice echoed from the next floor up.
“Thanks Mami! You’re the best! I don’t know why Madoka’s being so quiet…”
The pink haired girl’s eyes darted towards her, as much as they could without turning her head to look. Sayaka was preparing to press further when her attention turned to the front of the room.
The transfer student had stopped halfway through the doorway. She was fidgeting with her hands and sweat beaded down her forehead. As conspicuous as ever, she leaned in, scanning the room when-
There was her. An exact copy of herself. Pink hair, ribbons and everything. She tensed up, turning on her heels ready to run away. Coming to school today was a mistake, there’s no way she can go in there like.. She stops herself.
Deep breath in, one.. two.. three.. and out. In and out.
With a shallow breath, she presses on.
Gone was the cold, elegant walk of the face she bore. In its place was an anxious, timid girl barely standing on her two feet. Sayaka’s eyebrow curled in utter bewilderment. Then pink eyes met lavender.
Madoka had to take a step back. Her own eyes were digging into the back of her skull! Then she looked to the desks to the right. The heart practically beating out of her chest slowed down at the sight of Hitomi and Sayaka. Her island of stability amidst this crazy morning. She almost walked right up to them before frantically plopping herself down at Homura’s desk.
“Uhm, what was that about?” Sayaka quips, nudging her best friend with her elbow.
In another moment wildly out of character, Madoka made no attempt to humour her. Not even a nervous laugh. Her gaze was completely transfixed on the transfer student.
“Uh, Madoka?”
Her friend shot up from her desk, standing tall and.. Was she walking right towards her? Was she insane?! Madoka jolted in her seat to find herself towering over her, an unreadable expression painted over her face.
With the cadence of a rehearsed speech, Homura said; “Miss Akemi, you look unwell. May I accompany you to the nurse’s office?”
Un huh.. The girl with black hair gives an almost imperceptible nod, gripping her skirt.
-
“Um, Homura?”
She didn’t think she was ever going to get used to that voice coming out of her own- Well, Homura’s mouth. The mysterious girl led the way down the hall, Madoka shuffling close behind. How her wish led to this, she had no idea but it was eating her up inside.
“I-I’m really sorry, I didn’t..”
Homura’s pace was unchanged.
“I-I had no idea this would happen! If I did, then..”
The pair cross the threshold onto the skyway separating the two sections of the school.
“Homura?” Madoka’s voice proved useless. All she could do was stare at the back of her own head, unnerving to no end. The girl with pink hair and ribbons abruptly turned on her heels.
“What were you thinking?” Homura’s voice attempted to cling onto its methodical edge, rapidly giving way to a boiling anger. Madoka froze. She never thought her own voice could sound so scary.
“Did my warning mean nothing to you?”
Madoka opened her mouth to say something, but the words got lost somewhere along the way. Her throat tensed up, her breath hitched and her cheeks began to hurt.
Homura looked upon the mess unfolding in front of her. She saw herself squirm on the spot. Salt blurring the eyes she just fixed. It was the face of the girl from so long ago, the one she had tried her hardest to forget. The one that got winded just from doing warmups. The one whose heart could give out at any moment. The one who couldn’t protect Madoka.
Her rage swelled into an inferno.
“Nothing!?” She yelled.
“I-” white hot tears fell to the floor one by one.
“I- I just wanted to be like you!” Madoka just barely managed to confess.
Homura was taken aback, putting one foot behind the other.
“Y-you can ace any problem, and jump higher than anyone, and- and protect people! And I can’t do any of that!” Madoka practically screamed. It was at that moment she remembered it was Madoka behind that face. She wanted to throw up inside. Of course she would end up getting hurt because of her. Again.
“I’m just.. Nothing.” She utters with a pained voice, the water works painted across her face. Her head sunk towards her feet. Homura squeezed her fists until they were white as her clenched teeth. She thought very hard about what she would say next.
“No.”
Madoka looked up in confusion. Homura flinched, then composed herself once again.
“You are worth so much more than that.” Homura’s words were softer than before. Sincere.
“Meet me in front of the school after class and I will prove it to you.”
With that, the girl resumed her measured gait as if nothing had even happened, proceeding to the next building. Madoka didn’t know what to think anymore.