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Madoka's stomach hurts.
Her knees slam against the ground along with the grief seed, holding herself up by the limb of her bow. She can vaguely hear her friends yelling her name, two figures kneeling by her side as her vision swims. It hurts.
She knows exactly what does too.
Usually she's better at predicting it. It's early this time, if the dark spots in her vision and the way it feels like her body is attacking itself has anything to do with it. She feels a drop of sweat drip down her forehead (or is it blood?), but it's quickly wiped away by soft hands and a softer kiss pressed to her temple.
Madoka nearly blacks out as her head is pushed up into a sitting position until she's finally sideways, a firm hand at her back and under her knees. The roof above her moves with each step Homura takes, and Madoka grips on tighter to her girlfriend's shirt, as if trying to stabilize the strain below her navel.
"I thought Kyubey dulled the pain we feel," Homura murmurs to Mami. Well, it sounds like a murmur. Maybe she's just talking normally. Madoka doesn't know if it’s the bleeding head wound or the debilitating cramps that make it hard to hear and think straight. "She should be feeling better by now."
Homura jostles Madoka in her arms, muttering apologies for the sting that still lingers by her forehead. That's not really what Madoka's concerned about, though. It's not like that's what has her curled up against Homura's chest, clawing at her back like she's afraid of falling despite knowing she'll never be dropped.
Mami hums in response to Homura's question, walking closely next to her. Madoka briefly wonders where Sayaka and Kyoko went before she's hit with another wave of sharp pain, curling in on herself even more. "I don't know the answer to that, really," Mami replies, glancing down at Madoka's scrunched up face. Usually she'd feel weak and unworthy at the pity in her friend's eyes. But usually she isn't keening from pain that she shouldn't be feeling anymore.
Well, the keening isn't new.
Madoka's mother had always told her how unlucky she was to have gotten seemingly the worst cramps known to man. She's been told that it isn't normal to be bedridden from pain, staring up at the ceiling like a divine punishment. She wonders how many magical girls spent their wish on that. How many stared at dimming glow-in-the-dark stars above them and begged Kyubey to just make it bearable.
Madoka holds no resentment towards those who feel no pain because of it. Only jealousy. Not the bitter kind, though; the kind that says 'I'm happy for you, but I want to be you.'
Mami stumbles.
At first Madoka thinks she hallucinates it. But Homura stops in her tracks, jolting her along with an "I'm sorry, my love." Mami walks ahead, barely taking a glance back. Her breath is a little shaky, but she seems... fine. Madoka's brows would furrow in worry if they weren't already pulled taut from pain.
The conversation between the two is clipped, and Madoka can only hear the bite in Mami's words when she says "I'm fine."
Homura holds her a little tighter. A little closer, even.
They've made it to a more recognizable part of the city, no longer dark alleyways or strangely concealed construction zones. Madoka can feel the pain dull slightly. Not in the way all pain does when it comes to Kyubey, but in the way only accomplished through a few hours of waiting for it to pass.
"Homura," Madoka asks, squinting in the slowly brightening lights of the city. The way Homura immediately looks down at her, so attentive, would usually make her smile. Her grin is marred by the pain she's in, though, looking more like her face got stuck during a wince than the comforting gesture she means it to be. "Just—Just take me home. I'll be fine.” Homura's brows furrow, almost confused at her comment.
"Fine?" She asks, a little taken aback. "Madoka, you collapsed in front of me. You can't expect me to believe you can just sleep this off." She moves Madoka into just one of her arms, brushing Madoka's hair out of her face. "I worry about you."
"It's okay," Madoka closes her eyes to hide the agony behind them. If Homura can't see it (She can. She's always been able to.) she won't need to worry. "It's nothing I haven't been through before. This is normal for me, really."
Madoka hears an indignant scoff behind her, and there's only one person she knows who could sound that offended at something not happening to her. Kyoko's voice comes out breathless and sharp as she says "Normal? Madoka, you have a head wound. Last I checked, we don't get those every day."
Madoka would usually laugh at her friend's sarcastic comment. Unfortunately, the thought of laughing right now already makes her want to curl up more in pain. "Head wound?" She murmurs instead, reaching up to the top of her head and curling her fingers when they come back dark and red.
"You didn't– Is that not what hurts right now?" Homura asks, looking at her with such concern that Madoka is reminded of why she fell in love with her in the first place.
"No, no, I'm fine, it's just– I– Well, you know, I–" Madoka glances away from Homura, locking eyes with Sayaka. She has one arm across Kyoko's shoulders, the other crossed against her stomach as if bracing for a blow that's already hit her.
What she doesn't enjoy is the smirk of understanding that crawls up her face when she sees Madoka stuttering, eyes crinkling at the corners mischievously as she maliciously butts in with, "Aw, you don't have to be shy about it. It happens to all of us, you know–" She hisses, and Madoka feels a little bad admitting that she thinks of it as punishment for her words. "Me and Madoka have been sharing a period for years."
Mami turns to glare at her, and despite no reprimand spilling from her lips, Sayaka still shuts her mouth. Madoka's sure her face would be tinted red from blushing so hard if it weren't for the fact that she's pale from the blood spilling out of her forehead and flowing to below her stomach. Homura's hands shift on her body, and Madoka doesn’t understand what she was so fearful of when she moves her hands away from Madoka's midsection, holding her by the back of her knees and her shoulder blades.
"You don't have to be ashamed of it," Homura offhandedly says, her pace slowing down. Madoka hadn't realized until now that she was walking twice as fast as she usually does. "Can I just ask you one thing?" Sighing almost pleadingly, Homura pulls Madoka a little closer to her. "Let me get you something? Please?"
There's something about the way she says it, almost like the process of getting to help Madoka is her reward, and not an obstacle. "There's a pharmacy a few blocks down the street from your house," Mami says, finally back in front of them. Madoka can't see her face, and she's afraid of what expression she could possibly be making right now. "We can stop there. They won't question us."
The walk to the pharmacy is quiet. The shuffling of two pairs of steps echo behind them as Kyoko helps Sayaka keep pace with the rest of them. If it weren't for the mind-fogging pain licking at all of her extremities, Madoka would tell them to slow down and wait for Sayaka. At least Kyoko does.
She doesn't realize how dark it was until they step into the bright fluorescent lights of the pharmacy, white lights blinding her for a moment before her pupils contract. The shop is eerily empty, cold seeping into her fingertips faster than the pain can reach them.
The cashier doesn't look up at the jingle of the door, instead nodding his head with a monotonous "Welcome to Walgreens," As he continues to read his book. Madoka thinks she must still be a little delirious, because she's pretty sure he's holding it upside down.
The clacking of their boots against the tiles accompanies the buzzing of the flickering lights above them, rows upon rows of bottles and bags filling each aisle.
"Madoka, you don't take antidepressants, do you?" Madoka grumbles, looking up from her particularly warm spot on Homura's chest to glance at Mami.
"...No? Why do you ask?" She slurs, watching as Mami puts the bottle of Tylenol in her hands back on the shelf. She picks up a smaller one before putting that and the Advil in her other hand into the basket by her side.
"This'll be fine then," She comments to herself, stalking through the aisles with an almost unsettling familiarity. "I know you can't take ibuprofen on some medications. I just wanted to make sure." Before Madoka can question her on why she knows that, she's already walked down the aisle, putting several more things in the basket.
"What's your favorite candy, Madoka?" Homura asks, jostling her in her arms. Madoka looks up at her, memorizing the shape and tenderness of her face like she's a dying man at war. She wonders if even they thought of their wives like this. If they had been treasured like golden heirlooms passed down as the only memory of thousands before them. Madoka wonders how she got lucky enough to meet her thousands of times before and how many millions more she will know her.
"Madoka?" Homura shakes her again, a smile curling up her face. Madoka's eyes struggle to focus on her for a second and she mourns the loss.
"What?" She squints up at her, blinking once. Maybe she heard her the first time, or maybe she just wanted to hear her say it again. Homura's voice has always been sweet to her ears, smooth honey to lure her awake or to sleep.
"What's your favorite candy, my star?" Oh, but Madoka's adoration of how Homura says her name could never compare to how she feels about the sound of a pet name spilling from her lips. Sometimes it feels as if she uses them more than her actual one.
"The– The watermelon Sour Patch. The ones that stick together when you leave them out too long," Madoka mutters, watching as Homura reaches for them on the bottom shelf and holds them out to her. She will forever be mystified by how Homura has the strength to carry her with one arm. Maybe the wishes they make don't just give them enhanced healing and pain tolerance. Madoka should try doing the same for her one of these days.
The basket by Mami's side fills slowly as they wander through the convenience store, and Madoka finds herself wondering where Kyoko and Sayaka went as they walk through the aisles, her friends seemingly missing until they reach the snack section, Kyoko watching as Sayaka pores over bags upon bags of chips.
Madoka hears as Kyoko asks her, "What's your favorite?", so reminiscent of Homura earlier that it makes her grin for her friend to have found someone like her.
Sayaka seemingly thinks about for a second before she finally settles on “You,” grinning back and giggling at the wide-eyed shock that covers Kyoko's features. The color of her face nearly rivals that of her hair, and even though she tries to play it off by looking away and scoffing, it only gets even worse when Sayaka pecks her lips. She looks like a deer in headlights, or like a hurricane has passed by and blown her away. Soon they're both giggling, and Mami is smiling at their antics.
"Did you find what you needed?" She says calmly, the basket by her side not moving an inch towards the two of them, like she expects neither of them to have anything. Of course Mami is right, and she reaches for a bag to put into it before leading them all to the counter, settling at the front where she was meant to be. Her gait is less pronounced now, though, a little shaky as she sets the basket down in front of the register.
The cashier finally looks up for the first time, setting his book down with a groan as he starts scanning the items. He slowly furrows his brows after he's scanned three, looking up at the five of them for a moment before his eyes widen even more.
"Are– Are you girls alright?! Oh my god, why aren't you guys at a hospital, you're– you're bleeding from the head!" He looks between the five of them, even as Mami's voice remains calm while she speaks to him.
"She'll be fine. Could you please speed this up? We have somewhere to be."
"A hospital I hope!" He yells, glancing between the wound on Madoka's forehead, her scraped knees, the bruises on all of their arms, and the way Sayaka is hunched over as she holds onto Kyoko for dear life. Madoka isn't going to lie, she can admit they look worse for wear. She’s pretty glad he's concerned enough to say something about it. But she also really wishes he could hurry the fuck up so she can go back to bed and cuddle with her girlfriend until she can forget the pain in her uterus.
He scans the items in frantic movements, bagging them with shaky hands. Mami pays for everything and picks up the plastic bags, handing the Advil to Homura and ignoring the continued cries of confusion of the man behind them.
"This situation is new, even for me," Mami starts to say, opening a bottle of water she had grabbed and handing it to Sayaka so she can take a pair of ibuprofen. "I guess we're all synced up now that we work together."
"All?" Sayaka grunts, a little clearer now that she's had some water to quench her thirst. "I thought it was just me and Madoka."
"I'm starting to feel it too," Mami admits, still leading them all to Madoka's house. It's the closest out of all of them (that have houses at least), and Madoka's parents would be willing to let them stay with the simple excuse of them being Madoka's friends. "How are you two holding up?"
Both Madoka and Sayaka let out simultaneous groans of pain. Mami smiles at them almost pitifully as she says, "I know, I know it hurts. But I need to know about these two." She points at Homura and Kyoko, both of which look affronted at the mention of their names.
"About us? I'm fine. I can feel it a little but I just thought it was a stomachache." Homura shifts Madoka in her arms again, a little finicky, like she's afraid that even a millimeter of change can make a big difference.
Kyoko doesn't answer.
She just helps Sayaka keep pace with the rest of them, carrying most of her weight across her shoulders. Mami does a good job of setting a regular speed, making sure they make it home at a reasonable time without leaving Sayaka behind. Always so attuned to other's needs. Madoka wonders how she finds the strength to manage all four of them and herself.
Madoka doesn't hear anything from the conversation Mami has with her mother once they make it to her door, only that it's short enough that she's changed and under her sheets with a warm heating pad within minutes. It's neither the first nor last time Madoka's grateful for her stupidly large bed when she feels Sayaka lay next to her, the sheets and blankets shifting away as she curls in on herself.
Homura's hand slides up her torso soothingly, almost as warm as the gaze she's giving Madoka right now, sweet enough she almost melts into the mattress. "Is there anything else I can get you, my love?"
Madoka takes her hand from her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the back of Homura's knuckles without looking away from her savior. "You, please. Just stay."
Shoulders loosening, Homura squeezes Madoka's hand in her own. "You don't need to ask me that. Not anymore. I'll always stay for you." Madoka would grin at her sappiness, if it weren't for the exaggerated sounds of disgust by her ear. And also the still not lessened pain shooting through her abdomen.
"Can you two be grossly in love somewhere else? I'm trying not to die over here." Sayaka rolls her eyes, a smile of her own already gracing her lips.
"I feel like Madoka should be able to do what she wants in her own house, don't you think?" Mami giggles at the tint in Sayaka's cheeks, giving her an apologetic smile. She's standing fairly awkwardly compared to how she usually does. Madoka would think that she'd be comfortable enough in her house after coming here so frequently.
She stares up expectantly at her three friends for a few seconds, rolling her eyes at the neutrality in their faces. "Coming here doesn't involve standing around like soldiers, y'know. There's enough room for the three of you." Okay, maybe only enough room for two people, but they can make it work!
Homura's eye twitches a little as she stares at the two of them curled up in Madoka's bed, thinking for a moment before sighing in what almost sounds like acceptance. "Fine. But let me be on the edge. If you need anything I won't bother you by getting up." Carefully, like she's afraid of disturbing a non-existent monster, Homura moves Madoka a little further into the bed, sliding in next to her.
"I'll go get a few glasses of water first," Mami announces, slipping through Madoka's door. Madoka misses her presence for a moment before she wraps her arms around Homura's waist, sighing against her neck. She tenses in Madoka's embrace for a moment before she relaxes a little bit, petting Madoka's hair with a steady rhythm that almost puts her to sleep. She has the audacity to ask "Is this good?" But Madoka decides that the hum she presses against her skin is answer enough.
She feels Kyoko settle in next to Sayaka, their bickering audible even from her space in near-dreamland. How those two can argue so much is something she'll never understand. They fight on everything from the morality of being a magical girl to the correct way to pronounce 'February'. What they're fighting about now probably isn't of much importance, at least not as much as the hand running through her hair, rubbing circles against her back to soothe the invisible wound wracking her entire body.
That, and the empty space behind her, left for someone who has yet to return.
Mami has always been the faster of the two of them. In battle, in school, in maturing—she always stays a little further ahead than Madoka can reach. So the fact that she isn't here yet, despite five minutes passing is strange.
Even stranger when it turns into ten.
Worrying almost when it becomes fifteen.
"Where's Mami?" Madoka murmurs into Homura's chest, feeling more than hearing the hum that emanates from her throat. "She's been gone for a while."
"Maybe she's having a chat with your mom." The petting on her hair grows a little lighter, almost distracted. "It has been a while since she's been here. It isn't like her to just leave someone hanging like this." They just lay there for a while, letting the quiet words that flow from Kyoko and Sayaka's conversation next to them fill the silence. "Do you want me to go check up on her?"
Madoka thinks about it for a second. Her arms tighten around Homura's body as she decides between her options. "This is nice. I want to stay here with you..."
"But?" Homura follows. Homura has always followed her. From class to class and to the ends of the Earth. Probably even further.
"But I think you should check on her. It's been a while. I don't want to seem paranoid but–" Madoka is interrupted by a gentle kiss placed on her cheek, feeling as Homura pulls away. She doesn't realize just how warm she was until she's gone, and she curls up around the heat pack on her stomach once more.
"You aren't being paranoid. I'll go check up on her." Madoka nods imperceptibly, watching Homura through her open door. She's glad she forgot to close it when she catches a glimpse of her mentor standing on the stairs, unmoving. She has no glasses in her hands, both of which are curled into fists by her side as she stares at the steps beneath her.
Madoka can't see the look on her face from this angle, but she can see how tightly her hands are clenched around the bottle of Tylenol in them, the way her jaw works from side to side as she just... stands there. Unmoving.
"Mami?" She jolts as she hears Homura call her name, tension still lingering in her face as she tries to give her a passing smile.
"You four must still be waiting for me. I'll be right up, just give me a few minutes." She says it with the ease of someone who has lied hundreds of times and will do it hundreds of times more, but now that Madoka knows there's something wrong, she can notice the small tension in the corner of her lips, the way her brows are pulled a little closer together than they usually are. Even from this far away, Mami's tells are obvious.
Homura stares at her for a moment, eyes flicking across her face. "Then let me walk down with you," She states, crossing her arms. "If you're alright, you'll be fine if I come with you, right?"
And Madoka can see the way Mami's jaw tenses and how her eyes nearly fully close, her smile lowering a fraction. "Don't you want to stay with Madoka? I'm sure she's waiting for you, and she needs you more than I do right now."
Neither of them are one to back down, and the stare they give each other is so intense that Madoka can feel it from a couple of meters away. Homura has always been one to bite until she reaches an answer for what she wants, and Mami has grown to be a fortress to stop anyone from knowing her thoughts. Complete opposites. An unstoppable force against an immovable object.
One of them has to give at one point, though.
"If you're fine, Mami, move a step down," Homura hisses, refusing to break eye contact. Mami returns the stare challengingly, moving down one step as she looks up at Homura.
"Is that enough for you?"
"Another one," Homura demands, desperation leaking into her voice. Her determination wavers as Mami takes another step down the stairs, fists shaking by her side as she once again asks, "Another one."
"How many more steps do you need me to take, Homura?!" Mami snaps, breathing heavily. The floor creaks beneath Homura as she takes a step back, and it does once more when she takes a step forward.
"One more. Just one more." Mami scoffs, the bottle in her hand rattling as she angrily points at Homura. There's something about the indignation that twists her face that makes something curl in Madoka's gut. For once, she wishes it was the cramps.
Mami takes one more step down the stairs, nearly at the bottom, when her body suddenly gets completely off balance, forcing her to grip onto the handrail as tightly as possible. A bead of sweat drips down her pale temple, and before she can stumble any more, Homura's arms are there to catch her, nearly supporting all of her weight.
It looks surprisingly easy for Homura to drag Mami up the rest of the stairs. It's probably the adrenaline from watching her mentor almost collapse out of nowhere. Before long, Mami is laid back on the bed next to Madoka, grumbling and murmuring about how she's "fine," and "it was nothing."
She's such a bad liar.
Of course, all of her complaints are silenced when a glass of water is pressed into her hand, and the Tylenol she was once holding is opened and handed to her within minutes. The look on her face is almost shameful—if it's for the hiding or being taken care of, Madoka is a little pissed she can't tell. Mami hands back the Tylenol without taking any, glancing away from Homura as she says, "I can't take any. I already took some on the stairs."
Homura's brows furrow as she takes the bottle back. "You– You dry swallowed some?" Mami nods, fiddling with the sheets in front of her. Madoka takes her hand in her own, interlacing their fingers.
"I guess you're stuck with us now, huh?" Shaking her head, almost denying, Mami tries to get up.
"I'm fine, really, I'm–" She winces as she tries to prop herself up. "I'm not as bad as you two."
Madoka smiles, squeezing her hand. "Do I look like I give a fuck?"
Mami's head whips towards her, disbelief scrawled across her features. "What?!"
"You heard me." Madoka feels like flicking her on the forehead for the confused look on her face. "Does it look like I give half a flying shitass fuck about how you're 'not as bad' as us?"
"Madoka, what are you–" Homura starts, glancing between the two of them. "I mean, you're right, but since when do you say things like that?" She gawks.
"You know you can say curse, right? No one's putting a gun to your head.” Sayaka teases, propping herself up on an elbow. "And Madoka gets like this every time she gets her period. Lord knows I've been cussed out by her enough times."
Mami sighs as Homura continues to openly stare, sitting back on the soft pillows reluctantly. "I can deal with myself. You don't need to baby me."
"We're not trying to baby you." Madoka leans further into Mami's side, partially to comfort her and partially to pin her to the mattress. "You're our friend, Mami. We don't want you killing yourself grabbing a glass of water."
"But–"
"I'm gonna need you to shut the fuck up and lock in." Madoka brings the sheets up to Mami's collarbone, tucking her in further into Sayaka's side. Her bed is slowly starting to get crowded, but she doesn't mind that much as long as there's room for one more.
"This is so weird," Kyoko mutters, staring at Madoka like she's a foreign object. She sat up at one point, and she combs her fingers through Sayaka's hair, seemingly unaware of how she's making her fall asleep in her lap. Sayaka looks perfectly content where she is, eyes half-lidded and pupils dilated.
"Your face is weird," Madoka spits, Homura's hand covering her mouth after she tries to follow it up with–
"That's enough of that, thank you." Madoka grumbles against her hand, trying to pry it off of her face with no success. "I've been in many predicaments, but even I have no explanation for how I feel about this."
"I know I'm curious. How far gone is she?" Kyoko whispers, not wanting to wake the sleeping head on her lap. It's almost comedic how soft she gets when anything involves Sayaka, like a cat with its claws taken out. The sharp bite in her words is gone, instead replaced with a hint of joy that must be seeping in to her from Sayaka through osmosis.
Madoka's eyes narrow, and Homura holds back a laugh—probably at how backwards the situation is. It almost feels like the world has been turned upside down, only if that were actually the case, Madoka wouldn't feel the roiling heat in her uterus that's the reason why everyone is gathered at her house right now.
"What the hell does that mean?" She answers first when Homura takes her hand away, seemingly deeming that an appropriate enough word. Madoka keeps a mental note of that. For what, she doesn't know.
"It means you're turning into a worse version of me, holy crap." Kyoko furrows her brows, scratching at Sayaka's scalp.
"There's a worse version of you? I didn't think you could get any bitchier." The hand on her mouth is replaced with Mami's, and for a split second Madoka thinks about biting it before deciding better of it.
"I'm going to go get some water so that this one can take some painkillers. You can handle her well enough." Homura sets a hand on her cheek, and it sobers her for a moment. Have her eyes always been that dark? "You're going to be good for me while I'm gone, right?" Madoka nods eagerly. Homura peers at her all the way until she leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.
"Lesbians and your need to flirt all the time. Pisses me off." Sayaka gives Kyoko a half-lidded side eye for the comment, not adding one of her own.
"Really, Kyoko?" Mami scoffs, clearly wanting to wipe her hand on something but being unable to due to her need to withhold the wrath of Madoka's curses. "You're making it really difficult to not let her cuss you out."
Madoka grabs onto Mami's wrist, pulling on it to try and pry it off of her mouth. Unfortunately, not only is Mami older than her, she's also more experienced and stronger, meaning Madoka's attempts are futile. She clearly still struggles though, and Madoka can admit that the pride flourishes in her chest. She'd definitely be able to push her off if she wasn't in unbearable pain. But she also wouldn't be a threat to people's emotional states, so really it's a lose-lose scenario.
Pulling Sayaka up to rest fully against her chest, Kyoko decides something that Madoka thinks is a great idea: "I mean, is this even worth it? What she said to me isn't too bad, and all we have to support it is Sayaka."
Almost fully asleep, Sayaka murmurs against her collarbone, "It gets really bad. Trust me."
"Yeah, sorry Kyoko, but I think I'm gonna have to side with her on this one." Mami's head turns around a little to look at the now closed door, and Madoka can almost see the thought forming in her head. "Actually, maybe it would be better if you could talk a little more–"
The second Mami's hand on her mouth loosens the smallest bit, Madoka is back on. "Mami, I swear to god, I might not be able to move my lower body without being in immense pain, but if your ass tries to get up and walk off to 'help me' because you couldn't handle being taken care of for twenty minutes I'm going to throw a fit." She can already see Kyoko giggling at her, so she can't leave her hanging.
"You can't say shit either, Kyoko. You wanted to hear me talk so goddamn bad, didn't you? Haven't you ever considered that maybe the reason your bitchass hasn't gotten any shit lately is because you keep running away from it? You asked for it, and now you're getting it served on a silver platter I'm gonna bash against your dense skull until you can catch a fucking hint."
Unfortunately, the choice words she has for Sayaka remain trapped as two hands slap over her mouth once more. Kyoko has turned beet red, her breathing harsh and heavy, meanwhile Mami is looking away from her like a kid stuck with her hand in a cookie jar. Sayaka laughs against Kyoko's shoulder, almost tumbling back from how hard she cackles. "I told you something like this would happen!"
Madoka expects Kyoko's hand to shoot away from her like fire, but surprisingly, she stays unmoving. "I–I didn't– I just– I–" Sayaka continues giggling, peering up at her.
"It's a shock every time it happens." She grins. "You'll get used to it eventually."
"I'll get used to having the core of my being insulted because I asked a question?!" Kyoko looks back at Madoka like she's a different person, and at this point, isn't she?
"Yep," Sayaka confirms, lying back down on Kyoko's lap and moving her hand back to her head. "'T's not like it's new or anything."
Kyoko scoffs, and yet her hand still cards just as softly through Sayaka's hair. It still feels shitty of them to be talking about her like she isn't sitting right here, but even she can admit that she deserves it a little. "Last I checked Madoka doesn't threaten to bash my skull in for asking a question about how she's feeling. I didn't even think she knew that much about me!"
"Of course she knows a lot about you, it's Madoka." Sayaka bats at the hand above her, like two hissy cats play-fighting. "What, you think her being nice to everyone is easy?"
"Uh, yeah." Rolling her eyes, Kyoko is smacked again. "All she needs to do is give people food and they'll come crawling like dogs." Madoka's silent prison is liberated for a moment as Mami takes her hand back to laugh, but a hand returns to its place on her mouth soon enough.
"You– She– She gave you food? And you took that as her way of being friends with you?" Sayaka snickers, and Kyoko looks around confusedly. "Wow, I knew you were raised on the streets, but maybe not that much."
"You're laughing at me. I didn't have food to sustain myself as a child and you're laughing at me," Kyoko deadpans, keeping Sayaka's head on her lap so she can't see the smile crawling up her face.
"Well that's because you're so strong and healthy. Clearly it did something if you're still this pretty." Madoka realizes all of a sudden why Kyoko always complains when she and Homura talk in front of her. Watching these two blatantly flirt with one another is enough to make her want to rip her eye sockets out.
"You were saying, dummy?" Kyoko nudges her, getting a shove back for the transgression.
"Madoka being nice to everyone actually takes work. She knows you, your flaws, your weaknesses, your insecurities—don't look at me like that, you know you have them—just because she doesn't say them doesn't mean she doesn't see them. Think of period Madoka as evil Madoka that's determined to say evil things at you that actual Madoka feels bad for not even ten minutes later."
"I'm sorry, minutes?" Eyes flicking between them, Kyoko gestures at Madoka. "You mean we caught her exactly when she's like this?"
"What, you want to take a photo?" Sayaka scowls, yelping as Kyoko scrambles over to her phone to do just that. "Hey, I'm still in pain over here y'know! Quit acting like I'm a rag doll!"
"Do you want me to kiss it better?" Kyoko teases, pulling up the camera app on her phone and snapping several unflattering photos of Madoka still being shushed by Mami.
"Uh, yeah, that'd make up for it." She's elbowed by Kyoko again, pouting at being ignored. Madoka thinks the prospect of biting Mami's hand to keep cussing Kyoko out gets more enticing by the second.
"Well, you offered,” Mami shrugs and Madoka has to summon every ounce of confusion and rage left in her body to give her a glare that just says 'Why.'
"I'd just have to do the same for you!" Sayaka retorts, grinning at her. For some reason, the tips of Kyoko's ears turn bright red, and she refuses to make eye-contact with any of them.
"Shut up," She shoots back, significantly more meekly.
"But I thought you loved it when I talk too much," Sayaka annoys her, staring at Kyoko who still stares behind her. Her brows furrow slightly before it seems she makes a discovery none of them could have ever predicted. "Are you— Kyoko, have you not gotten your period yet?"
She all but confirms it when her cheeks tint an even darker shade of red than Madoka thought was possible, stuttering as she tries to fight back. "N—No! I just—I'm just not synced up with the rest of you!"
Sayaka's already caught her in her trap though, and she grabs onto the sides of Kyoko's face to get her to look at her. "You don't have to lie about it! I already found you out, dummy, it's too late!"
"I'm not lying!"
"You're a really bad liar," Madoka manages to spit out from behind Mami's hand. It's pressed further against her mouth and she accepts defeat.
Kyoko grumbles childishly before Sayaka tugs her a little closer, still giggling a little bit. "It's okay, Kyoko. I don't care. I think it's cute that you're still helping us."
"Maybe I should've made you walk here."
"But you didn't!" Sayaka sing-songs.
"Yeah, yeah, because I'm so awesome and the best partner you could ever hope for, I know."
Thankfully, before Madoka's teeth clamp down on Mami's palm to argue that fact, Homura comes back in, balancing four cups of water flawlessly on her arms.
"I know the two of you already drank some painkillers, but you should still stay hydrated." Her gaze flicks down at Madoka, softening so much it's clear to everyone else. Whether Homura cares or not, Madoka doesn't as long as those dark eyes are on hers.
She stuns as she notices the three pills in Homura's palm, nearly 600 milligrams over the limit. They're stuffed into her hand along with a fairly large cup of water, which, seriously, she didn't even know she had these. Before she can fire off any comments—thankfully now that Mami's palm is off her mouth—a bag of candy is placed by her side, where she'd much prefer the warmth of the one person she isn't feeling right now.
"You haven't taken anything, and I know you're the worst out of all of us," Homura says as she rests a hand on Madoka's knee. "And as a magical girl, your digestion and decomposition is much faster than that of a regular person, which means that not only does the medicine kick in faster, but it lasts less."
Kyoko rolls her eyes. "It's no use, Homura, she's going to keep on kicking and–" Madoka swallows down the pills and water without complaint, stunning Mami and Kyoko by her side. She's a bit concerned when she doesn't see Sayaka, but it seems the medication has made her pass out again—or maybe it's the sensation of gently scratching nails on her scalp lulling her back to sleep.
Madoka smacks her once chapped lips, smiling up at Homura. "Thank you, my ungiser."
"I should thank you for being so compliant in this. I know it's hard to be taken care of." She pointedly ignores Kyoko’s glare against her skull as she mutters, "Thank you for being so good for me."
"What the heck!?" Kyoko glances at Mami, indignation scrawled across her face. "You're seeing this, right?! We get insulted and she gets called 'my universe'?! This is unfair!"
"You shouldn't be surprised by this, Kyoko. You'd be the same if it was Sayaka." Kyoko sputters at Mami's words, eventually deteriorating into a groan as she slowly tucks the girl in her lap further into the sheets. Sayaka doesn't seem cold, though, if anything, she seems almost adamant to continue gripping on to Kyoko, muttering nonsense in her sleep about apples and raspberries.
"Insulted?" Homura says to herself, slowly undoing the ribbons in Madoka's hair. Whenever she does it, the action always feels reverent in some way. Like the ribbons themselves are inseparable from Madoka, and she'd rather lose another decade trying to take them out carefully than ever risk damaging them. She slowly wraps them around her hand as she unties them, and Madoka sighs at the release of pressure from her head. "What did you talk about while I was gone?"
"Well Madoka decided that she's–" Kyoko's shut up again by Mami's hand on her mouth, which is quickly ripped off with a mutter of, "This is getting old..."
"Madoka's clearly been feeling a little rough, and she's been a little snappy at the rest of us when we try to help her," Mami recounts, smiling even more gently at the slight confusion remaining in Homura's eyes.
Kyoko laughs. "A little?"
"I kind of got that from when she started yelling at you before I left. I didn't think she'd be the type to insult you, though." It's almost comedic how Homura looks more concerned for her than the two people next to her that got cussed out a few minutes ago, but she's always been the type to worry, hasn't she? "Are you sure you don't want me to get you anything else, Madoka?"
The shake of Madoka's head doesn't seem like it convinces her, but Homura complies anyway, worry still marring her features as she tucks herself in beneath the sheets and brings Madoka close to her chest, a hand running through soft pink hair.
The perpetual murmur of Sayaka and Kyoko's light arguing is missing now, Kyoko clearly trying her best to not make any noise—as if that would ever be enough to wake Sayaka up in this state. It's almost hypocritical, how she was yelling so loudly a few minutes ago to defend her honor and has now been reduced to a tamed house cat.
Madoka chooses to watch Mami instead, and the way she fiddles with the sheets in front of her nervously. She's still wearing her uniform, looking almost overdressed compared to Madoka and Sayaka in their comfortable clothes. Or maybe they're the underdressed ones—they are in the minority, after all. She should really start to keep sets of the others' clothing at her house for situations like this. Of course Sayaka had a pair lying around, but that's just because she's been disorganized since the day they met; it's only natural for one of her outfits to be strewn about Madoka's floor like she lives there.
The tune Mami hums under her breath is almost enough to lull her to sleep. Along with the weight of Homura's arms around her, Madoka's eyelids grow heavier and heavier with each passing moment.
She doesn't know how long she stays on the brink of sleep for: fifteen minutes, an hour, two hours. All she knows is that while waiting for the pain medicine to kick in, the prospect of sleeping grows more and more enticing by the second, while also being as unattainable as possible.
Slowly though, slowly, as the pain below her stomach lessens with every passing moment, she gets closer and closer to that goal, her dreams almost within reach before her midsection is cold again, the weight pressing in behind her vanishing with the small click of a door.
Groaning and cursing under her breath, Madoka drowsily turns around to curl around the warm spot on the sheets where Homura once was. It makes her feel a little clingy, but who cares? She has an excuse at least. Even if she doesn't need it. Even if it's not even true.
She rolls back and forth on the soft sheets, possibly to the annoyance of Mami next to her if the light glare on her side means anything. Madoka will let it slide this time—it's clearly intended to be playful, and Mami would never look at her with any sort of malicious intent.
"You alright?" She mutters, pulling Madoka away from the edge of the bed and closer towards her.
(Mami has always thought of herself as greedy for things like that. They all try to show her that they'd rather her do that than nothing at all. They'd rather her clinginess and constant need for reassurance than the lack of her presence at all.)
"Homura's missing." Madoka almost sighs as Mami scratches at her back,, still worried about the now third (fourth?) absence of her lover. Then, without missing a beat, she answers Mami's unspoken question with, "No, you shouldn't go check on her. She's fine."
"You can't just expect to know what the next words that come out of my mouth are going to be." Mami's nails rake deeper against her skin, but still not enough to hurt. She's always been careful about that.
"I was still right about it, though." For as unpredictable as Mami can be in battle, she is easily the most predictable out of all of them in regular life. Madoka knows why. It isn't her business to prod, though.
"How about you just ask her once she comes back?" Madoka nods, eyes fixed to the door in front of her as she waits for it to open.
"How are Kyoko and Sayaka?" Madoka murmurs, trying desperately to fill the thick silence. It isn't uncomfortable by any means, but small talk in this state can't hurt, right?
"They're 'Sleep," Mami slurs, her hand slowing down on Madoka's spine. She debates turning around to see if what she thinks is happening is actually what's going on, but she'd rather not risk Mami sobering up. Madoka just hums in response, tracing shapes into the sheets.
Mami doesn't snore in her sleep.
It's a little scary, at first. The way her breathing slows and she stills entirely. It takes a boatload of willpower for Madoka to not check her pulse when it happens, but she can still feel the ghost of Mami's breath against her hair, so at least she's still breathing.
It feels strange to see her so relaxed like this. Even when they've slept over at her apartment on occasion, Mami's face is usually still lined with tension, as if she's waiting to be woken up by a witch rather than an alarm.
Now though, it's as if the worst of her thoughts have been put aside, replaced with dreams of something hopefully better than just friends and cheese. Madoka wonders how long it's been since Mami last slept like this, and then stops wondering when she realizes it's far too long ago for Madoka to have known her.
Although Homura tries to enter with as little noise as possible, it's hard for her to be undetected when Madoka is staring directly at the door as it creaks open slowly. Homura quickly shuts it as quietly as she can and crawls back into the bed, surprisingly fitting all five of them fairly comfortably. If Madoka had to guess, Kyoko's probably hanging half-off the bed like some sort of stray animal.
"Sorry," is the first thing Homura whispers to her once she gets back. It makes something in Madoka strangely angry. "I didn't wake you up, did I?"
"I wasn't asleep anyway," Madoka insists, tucking a strand of hair behind Homura's ear. The way Homura leans into her touch makes her heart ache, like a flower reaching for sunlight. Instinctual. Natural.
Homura's eyes drift past hers for a moment, landing on Mami's limp form behind her. It is a little terrifying how eerily similar Mami's sleeping form is to her dead body. Thankfully, Madoka knows that this time it's good.
"She's asleep," Homura mutters to herself, tugging Madoka a little closer. Why she'd do that truly feels like a mystery. Doesn't she know that Madoka wouldn't go anywhere she couldn't follow?
"Weird, right? I thought something happened." Madoka presses their palms together, seeing every point at which Homura's hand meets hers. They interlock perfectly, like they were meant to be that way. Truly, were they not? "She asked me if she could go check on you. We were worried."
And suddenly, the tension she wasn't feeling on Mami has all transferred to Homura as she stiffens like a board. "You– You were?"
Madoka nods slowly, watching as Homura stares at their linked hands. "What happened?"
Homura looks like she would be shuffling her feet if she was standing. She glances at and away from Madoka several times before letting out a resigned sigh, trying to read the worry in her gaze. "Do you really want to know?"
"Yes." Madoka's hand trails down Homura's jaw at the breathed reply. “Please,” She knows Homura likes it when Madoka's hands traverse her skin like reverent hands to a stone statue. Madoka had learned to mirror her after the first time Homura did it to her. Even now she fails to mimic the adoration in the gesture. She hopes Homura doesn't think it's because she loves her less.
Homura looks away once again, foot tapping as she thinks. For a second Madoka thinks she's taken back her decision to tell her, but Homura begins to speak. "I've never had particularly painful cramps. Of course they hurt, but nothing a couple painkillers wouldn't fix."
The ticking of Madoka's rickety ceiling fan only worsens the silence.
"In exchange for not being in pain, though, I guess I just–" Homura hisses, glancing away. Only now does Madoka realize how red she is, the warmth of her skin seeping into her fingers. "I bleed. A lot."
"A lot?" Madoka prompts, fingers continuing their path down Homura's skin. It only seems to redden her cheeks even more. Madoka almost smiles at it.
"I usually take iron pills during my period to replace how much I lose. It's not a big deal, and it's nothing magic won't fix but—" Madoka wonders how Homura's cheeks remain that tinted with the supposed amount of blood she loses, the embarrassment clearer than the discomfort in her face.
Madoka waits for her. Madoka will always wait for her.
"It's— It feels a little gross," She finally finishes.
"I don't think you're gross," Madoka murmurs, running her fingers through Homura's hair. She's finicky about that. Always touching it and flipping it behind her. Homura could never be gross. She's the opposite if anything.
"You don't think anything is gross, Madoka." Well that's a lie. She thinks liars are gross, and manipulators, and people who take advantage of others. Maybe that's not what she meant.
"Well I still don't think you're gross." Even though Madoka's being completely serious, Homura still smiles at her like she just told a funny joke.
"Whatever you say, my love."
And for once, for once during this awful, debilitating curse, everything feels... nice. It's not good by any means. Madoka wishes that they could be like this under better, not crampy circumstances. But for once during this godawful week, it doesn't feel like she's the only one suffering for simply being a woman.
Unfortunately, magical girls don't get to be that way. Especially with the contractor being around.
"How interesting," Madoka hears the grating voice whisper in her mind, and the girls surrounding her—even the ones that were asleep—groan in unison. "I've never seen something like this. It's so odd." The first ones to jump to their feet are Homura and Kyoko, both of which immediately pull their weapons out to point at Kyubey's neck.
"What about don't talk to us do you not understand, vermin?" Homura hisses, so different from her demeanor only a few seconds ago that it almost gives Madoka whiplash.
"I understand your language very well, actually. In fact, sometimes it seems I understand it more than you do." It hops down from its spot on Madoka's shelf, so reminiscent of a cat it sends shivers down her spine. Its trickery reflects its skill at its job. Its horrible, evil, manipulative job. "Talking refers to expressing emotions and feeling through spoken word. I can't feel any of those things, nor am I speaking aloud to you."
"You know what we meant, creep!" Kyoko's spear edges closer to his beady face, as expressionless as always. Sometimes Madoka doesn't know how she missed the signs.
"I'm going to need you to say what you mean." It tilts his head, as if it is confused. As if it feels anything.
"We don't want to hear from you, or see you again." The sound it makes is eerily similar to a scoff. A predation tactic. Mimicry. Imitation.
"Fine. Have it your way." It crawls across the length of Kyoko's spear, nearly making her drop it. "You won't last without me." It hops to the edge of Madoka's window, staring back at them before it jumps into the cold, dark night. "You know you won't," It says, as monotonous as it would the deepest secrets of a person. It says it the same as it would say encouragement, or secrets, or news of death.
Madoka hates no one. She thinks everyone has the potential to be good.
She despises that being with every ounce of the soul it took away from her.
"I want to kill that thing," She says, almost subconsciously. She thinks about taking it back before she receives four sounds of affirmation.
No one likes Kyubey. Only those he preys on.
Thinking about it now, though...
"You know what would be funny?" Sayaka flops back down on the bed, grinning. That has always been her way of dealing with things. Ignorance and distraction. It’s a shame she got killed because of it—she really is good at pretending everything is alright. “What if we could give all of our period cramps to Kyubey? It would be like, the perfect eternal punishment."
Kyoko laughs next to her, giving Sayaka a fist bump at the idea. "Man, that would be hilarious. Imagine him trying to explain but he's too illogical for his own kind."
Despite their laughter, Mami thinks it over seriously. Her brows pull together as she seemingly envisions the concept in her mind, the pieces slowly coming together. "That could happen, you know."
"What?!" They all cry in unison, Sayaka and Kyoko pausing in the middle of their laughter.
"Kyubey's one exchange for becoming a magical girl is fulfilling any wish. Ever. Regardless of how abstract or impossible, if it can lead to a contract being formed, Kyubey will grant it." Homura shuffles a bit by Madoka's side, so she reaches out to grab her hand. Simply because her wish was abstract doesn't mean that Homura's wish was bad. That might be the selfishness in her talking, though. For as much as she'd acted the hero by sacrificing herself in so many timelines, Madoka has never wanted to die.
"Yeah, we know this. Are you sure the blood loss hasn't affected your thinking abilities?" Kyoko teases, swinging her spear over her shoulder. It nearly hits most of them, but she seemingly doesn't care. Just because it doesn't matter if they get hurt doesn't mean they should. Kyoko should have the most experience with this. But maybe she just thinks too highly of her abilities. Her overconfidence has always caused the worst of her problems.
Mami waits patiently before saying, “Let me finish first, please,” politely, much to a slowly reddening Kyoko's embarrassment. "Don't ask me about the ethics of this situation, but," The opening already reveals some red flags, as Mami is interrupted once more by Sayaka and Kyoko.
"Ethics? I feel like we shouldn't do anything that could be a human rights violation," Madoka doesn't understand what Sayaka means by that, considering they're eighth graders that are forced into fighting monsters and witches to stay alive. Human rights are the last thing on any of their minds.
"Woah Mami, I didn't know you had the guts to ignore ethical concerns." Kyoko's comment makes Homura tsk and roll her eyes as she takes the spear from Kyoko's hands like she's afraid of being the next target.
"I didn't know you were the type to ignore basic human decency." She turns to Mami, bowing slightly. Madoka giggles at her formalities. "Please continue, Mami."
“Thank you. I was thinking, if we were somehow to find a way to contact Kyubey’s next…” Madoka thinks victim. Sometimes, Mami is nicer than her. “Subject, we might be able to use her wish against him. There aren’t any laws against what we’re allowed to ask for.”
“Like wishing all of our period cramps onto him,” Homura nods.
There is one way they can get him to reap what he sows. He may not feel emotions, but he can feel pain.
Madoka watches as they all settle in to make a plan, all eager to see the downfall of their creator.
They all hate him equally, it seems.
•—————————•
Whenever tragedy befalls an innocent young girl, Kyubey is always there.
It's why it’s so easy for the girls to track his next move. The hard part would be getting the subject on their side, which would involve getting to her before he dug his claws in. They need to be lucky for this part.
With a new mission in their sights—and honestly an entire bottle of ibuprofen downed in one go to dull the pain—they’re all ready to head back to work. To finish things. Madoka watches as the girl thrashes and writhes through the window, clutching onto her abdomen like she’s being stabbed. Judging from the pile of bloodstained clothes and the empty bottle of painkillers by her bedside, she’s been like this for a while.
Long brown hair in a mass of knots from being too nauseous to stand up in the shower to wash it, skin dry and peeling after rubbing it on the dirty tile, head aching due to dehydration and lack of sleep, she is the picture of misfortune. For once, Madoka understands what Sayaka means when she says it looks like she feels pity for someone. Truly, this is a fate that should not befall anyone, let alone someone as young as this girl.
Periods are like a monthly death sentence for most women, the anticipation of agony becoming almost as unbearable as the pain itself. But this girl’s more closely resembles a wild animal. Rearing its head at random, often skipping whole months at a time, which while may offer some extended peace, also makes for a nasty surprise. Sometimes it’s like the pain is making up for the months it’s missed.
The girl curls in on herself even further, glancing up through the window for even an ounce of respite. All that she sees is the opposite.
Before Kyubey can make any contact with the girl, though, he is speared through the heart by Kyoko, followed by a beheading by Sayaka. This is what they’ve been at for the past hour. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Another one of Kyubey’s copies attempts to sneak in through the door nearby, but he is quickly dispatched by Mami and Homura.
It’s now or never, Madoka supposes.
She fumbles with the lock for a second before unlatching the window, falling inside in a swift, smooth movement.
The girl looks up at her, eyes impossibly wide like she thinks she's hallucinating. Madoka doesn't blame her.
She needs to make this quick.
"Hello there. My name is Madoka Kaname, and I'm here to ask you a pretty big favor."
"Uh-huh..." She trails off, eventually snapping like she's figured out exactly what's going on. "Wait a minute, this is a delirious hallucination! No one is actually in my room, and I should just play along for the fun of it!"
The fact that she would rather accept that she's schizophrenic and/or having a psychotic episode than that someone actively broke into her home is a little concerning, but it's useful for Madoka's sake anyway. She hasn't been able to stop shaking since they came up with this plan a week ago. This has to work. It will.
"Listen to me. This is going to be a very short, brief explanation, but I'll explain everything to you soon. Someone is going to come up to you and tell you that he can grant any wish that your heart desires. When he does, I need you to wish that you could transfer all of the world's period cramps onto him." The girl looks at her skeptically. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but please. It's a difficult ask, but you're the only one who can do this. Save us."
The skepticism in her glare doesn't fade away, but it does lessen significantly. "And what do I get in exchange?" She asks, like a pirate bartering freedom for gold.
"You will be free from this as well. Forever."
That seems to work as enough of an incentive. She doesn't leave much room for questioning, though, instead choosing to slip out of the window she came from with an encouraging smile.
The worst part of the plan comes now. The waiting game.
She gives the signal to the other girls to retreat, and they all run into the shadows near the alleyway by her house.
Kyubey has always preyed on desperation. Girls on their last limb aren't likely to object, and they can make the most powerful magical girls. They peek in through the egress window, watching as the girl fiddles with her clothes as Kyubey explains the process to her. What he wants her to know of the process.
It doesn't take long before the girl is attempting to sit up, saying those god-forsaken words that have doomed all of them to a fate worse than death. Kyubey absorbs her soul, compresses it into a soul gem—
And proceeds to collapse on the ground, writhing in what must be unimaginable pain. The girl, who was once struggling to stand upright, now seems perfectly fine, patting herself down like she's making sure she hasn't lost any of her organs.
Kyubey continues to lay spasming on the floor, beady red eyes as unfocused as always.
It's only a fraction of what he's put them through. It's the least that he deserves.
"All in a days work!" Sayaka says, stretching out excitedly. She puts her hands behind her head, eerily reminiscent of Kyoko, and moves to walk back to Madoka's house, a lightness in her steps that once was not there.
They all follow in equal amounts of excitement and varying amounts of energy. Somehow, Kyoko and Sayaka still have enough to chase each other through the dark streets of Mitakihara, their laughter and footsteps so out of place along with the buzzing crickets in the bushes.
Madoka swings her and Homura's hands back and forth, watching them play-fight.
"Do you think we made the right choice?" She whispers more than asks. Homura squeezes her hand between them.
"It's better if we don't dwell on it too much. What's done is done." It's an ominous reply, and it certainly doesn't make her feel too much better, but it's the truth. It counts for something, right? "For what it's worth, I trust you. I think it was the right choice."
It's hard to think she's made the right choice when Homura would say that regardless of what they did. Madoka will have to trust in her almost as much as Homura does in her every action.
"If it helps," Mami adds, walking up next to them. They really to need to stop leaving her alone. "There's no one else I think would be better for the job than she was. As long as she doesn't use too much magic and doesn't experience too much despair, we can keep her safe."
"I guess you're right." Madoka doesn't know how she feels about it. Sure, the girl may be in almost no danger, but is it worth dragging an innocent civilian into this?
It's a question she's been posed before. Is one life worth billions?
Maybe she is too kind for her own good. There's no need for her to feel any sort of sympathy towards that thing. It's the least it deserves, after everything it's put them through.
"Don't think about it too much. Your brain will fall out of your ears," Mami teases.
It's hard not to think about the fact that they just subjected someone to eternal torture. Madoka tries anyway.
"What's your favorite place in the world, if you had to pick one?" Homura tries to distract her, an easy smile on her face.
"Oh, that's a hard question!" Madoka giggles. "I guess... It'd have to be the hill by the school."
Homura tilts her head. "It is? Why is that?"
Madoka watches her friends play ahead of her, happy and childish despite the horrors they've all witnessed. "There's nothing I have to worry about when I'm up there. Nothing we have to be scared of."
She gets an awed stare in response, before Homura laughs, nearly startling everyone in their small group. "You say the most surprising things sometimes."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"It never could be."