Archive of Our Own

Homura awoke to a feeling like that of being absorbed, assailed on all sides by warmth and comfort. She blinked the fog out of her vision.

As per usual for the past few weeks, her sleep had been dreamless. A restful darkness, free from awareness, the poison always seeping through her unconscious mind contained. Warmth had swallowed up everything.

Thus, in awakening, she found herself feeling slow, unaware. Always taking a moment to remember where and who she was. She blinked, something fuzzy against her chest.

She idly took in her surroundings, the pink cushioning she had sunken into, vague pink shapes towering around her.

Right, she remembered who she was now. She was Homura Akemi, a defector from humanity. A Magical Girl, one who had given herself over to the love of Witches. She had abandoned her purpose twice now, first by turning her back on her humanity to become a Magical Girl, then by choosing to hold on to what monstrous happiness she could manage to grab and hold onto instead of eventually disappearing under the weight of her own despair.

Homura squinted, before trying to raise herself up. The fuzzy weight at the base of her collarbone stayed in place as she struggled to move upright, the spongy and soft ground beneath her offering little stability.

Warmth besieged her, tempted her to simply fall back asleep for a little while longer. Homura, with effort, batted the impulse away as she rose to sit upright.

The room around her came clearer into focus, pillows and cushioning and blankets and truly enormous stuffed animals limply flopped about. The ceiling rose up as a dome, like that of a circus tent.

The space gave off the impression of a pillow fort expanding outward, overtaking everything around it to form its own enclosed world.

Ah, yes, Homura's mind was working again. This was her and her Sabbat's nest. A product of necessary compromise.

For all Sayaka had made a fuss of the complications brought about by her size and metal body, expressed a willingness to make the sacrifice of not inserting herself into that which didn't accommodate her, Madoka had been equally firm, unyielding, in her stance that it was very important all of them could join in her perfect 'cuddle pile' whenever desired.

To that end, using Madoka's bed as a basis, not a bedroom, but a bed-pavilion, fitting even Sayaka's looming form comfortably. Sturdy enough to support the weight of her metal flesh and enormous tail, soft enough even she could sink into the cushioning comfortably and curl up.

Homura, for her part, was on Madoka's side. Sayaka had seemed worried about her body, hard, giant and sharp, chafing and crushing Homura, but Homura didn't particularly care about any of that. She wasn't such a coward that touching a body like that scared her, not when she knew the girl beneath so intimately. And she was a Magical Girl to begin with, with a body which wouldn't fall apart so pathetically easily anymore.

Homura had already had plenty of Sayaka's usual nonsense in previous timelines, insistencies that her body was that of a monster and made her unworthy and undeserving of love. She'd rather just embrace her, hold her close, and prove her wrong, as that was the quickest way to get Sayaka to knock it off over futilely trying to convince her with logic.

So yes, Homura understood the need for the nest and was fine with it, at least in theory. In practice, it was leaving a little to be desired in its current iteration. A floor made of mattress and pillow fluff was lumpy, uneven, and difficult to walk across. Not dangerous, certainly not for a Magical Girl, but just a bit too inconvenient to just learn how to adapt.

For the moment, the nest was a work in progress, Madoka working on finding a solution which would strike an acceptable balance between being comfortable and being workable. Practical. Maybe just slightly less ridiculous.

…Or more ridiculous, as Homura wouldn't really mind. This was Madoka, after all, and after everything she had been put through, Homura was just glad to get the chance to watch her act so indulgent, confident in how she conducted herself and unburdened. Of course one of her first priorities in rebuilding the Labyrinth was something as pure, selfish in the way a child is selfish, as an appropriate venue for cuddle-piling.

Madoka, in those small handful of timelines where she became a Magical Girl without reason to suspect anything regarding the reality of the role, had proven to be a very physically affectionate girl, just as much if not more than Sayaka. Fundamentally, not much changed between 'that' Madoka and the more shy, anxious and withdrawn Madoka who became much more common for Homura to deal with. Madoka without an outlet to help her overcome her self-doubt simply ended up caring about what others thought at the expense of being herself and doing what she wanted a lot more. Both were the real Madoka, but the prior, the Madoka which had left such a strong impression on Homura, which she had first fallen in love with, was a lot closer to the 'true' Madoka.

Madoka as she was now was that physically affectionate Madoka, but even moreso, clinging tightly to Homura and the others whenever opportunity presented. It had felt threatening to Homura at first, unable to recognize the Madoka beneath the Witch she had feared more than anything else for what it had represented, but now it was much easier to understand and recognize. Witches lacked much of their human restraint, which was the reason most of the time they were so dangerous, but for Madoka and the others, unique existences, this was them at their most undiluted and yet still them beneath. A Madoka truer to herself than ever before, surrendering herself to her selfish, unfettered love. And the others were similar in that way, now that Homura knew what to look for.

Case in point, the itchy, soft thing clinging to Homura's upper chest, at her clavicle. Homura felt it tickle her as she reached the edge of the nest. To swallow down the impulse to peel the ribbon-bodied creature off, she focused instead on the sensation of her bare feet finally touching not mattress but carpet, soft but not swallowing.

Becoming a Witch had brought out Madoka's innate clinginess, but even still, there was barely room for comparison to what it had done to Mami. A girl so touch-starved that her unique magic specialty was based around binding things to her, but who nonetheless still wallowed in self-restraint, no longer had any incentive or desire to hold herself back, and as a result, a demon of snuggling had been released out into the world. Mami was almost always clinging to one member of the Sabbat or another with an almost parasitical devotion. Even now, asleep and letting out soft snores, Mami still clung to Homura, feelers wrapped around and behind her neck in an embrace like the loop of a necklace, her tiny body stuck against Homura's skin with all the insistence of a piece of tape.

…Well, she was fuzzy, soft and lightweight now, so the worst of it began and stopped at making Homura a bit itchy. Homura had always felt a bit uncomfortable with being touched, but, bizarrely, the other members of the Sabbat becoming more recognizable as monster than human had made that a bit easier for Homura to mentally deal with, and she was quickly getting used to it already.

Homura brushed some strands of hair out of her eyes with a finger as she reached the exit of the pavilion. She took a breath, light shimmering around her as she manifested her Magical Girl outfit in place of her pajamas, sans the usual leggings and heels. Mami made a clinking sound in response to the flash of light, but otherwise stayed still. Now looking slightly more presentable, Homura stepped out onto the grass, allowing herself a moment to take in the feeling of dew between her toes.

The Labyrinth was picturesque, as to be expected from a static, enclosed world. Freed from the existing instabilities and weight of emotional turmoil, both some of the good and all of the bad had been wiped clean, leaving this dreamlike stretch of field without much to fill in the gaps. The beauty of a small moment on a spring morning one wished could last forever, captured and preserved.

Of course, it was a bit shallow as it existed currently, with not much in the way of points of interest. But between the five of them, with nothing but time, they would build it up to make a proper world of things soon enough.

A world of their very own, after so long spent never truly belonging to the one they were bound to.

Homura afforded herself a small feeling of satisfaction at the thought as she continued to walk, making her way up and over the edge of a small hill. She looked down at the fenced off garden, seeing some movement from inside, and rolled back her shoulders to feel her joints pop before heading on down.

Homura walked up to the garden gate, wind blowing through her hair, and looked inside to see a shadowed silhouette, somewhat blurred and indistinct, with tense body language crouching down in front of a small stalk. She seemed, to Homura's limited ability to read, lost in thought or otherwise frustrated.

"Madoka."

Madoka startled, shooting up and looking over to Homura. As she did, the tension filling her seemed to deflate, and she walked over, claws swaying beside her. A familiar telepathic voice echoed inside Homura's head as the Witch nodded in acknowledgement. "Good morning, Homura-chan. I'm sorry I stepped out before you woke up… I figured you'd be fine being left with Candeloro, so…"

"I didn't mind. Only one of you is enough to deal with the nightmares, I've found."

"Ah…" Madoka said, a bit taken aback-seeming. "And you're not… having any issues with that?"

"Mami had it handled this time… even though that doesn't seem to have necessarily been her priority." Homura gestured to her passenger as she spoke, tinge of exasperation leaking into her tone. "Passively draining my grief buildup while I sleep, while keeping the mental link from the Witch's Kisses open… it seems to fully stop it from being an issue."

"Ah, I see." Madoka let out a soft giggle, slowly extending a pair of talons out to give Mami a soft, affectionate squeeze, before peeling her off of Homura's body. Mami let out a half-asleep gurgle of discontentment before relaxing as Madoka moved her over and sat her down on her own shoulder. "Well, I'm sure she's getting a bit itchy, so I'll swap with you. I don't have skin properly to worry about something like that, after all."

Homura narrowed her eyes. "That's going to make her mad, if she wakes up and I'm not here."

Madoka hummed to herself. "It'll be fine. I'll convince her it's my responsibility more than yours, and if she feels the need to take out her anger, I'll let her get it out of her system. Besides, she's cute when she gets a bit huffy, isn't she? I'm just feeling the need to tease her a little, is all."

Homura frowned. "I can't help but feel you're being a bit blasé over the fact she's probably going to literally attack you."

"That's the human part of you talking, Homura-chan." Madoka hummed, rubbing the back of a finger against Mami's sleeping form. "It's in her nature to lash out occasionally over fears of being abandoned, and it's in mine to affirm others even as I draw out their worst. We both understand that."

Homura felt the urge to ask if that meant the rest of the Sabbat only ever were truly themselves around each other and not Homura, but bit it back. That was a petulant little anxiety. Homura had no reason to doubt they cared for her at this point. She'd been on the receiving end of enough dark and twisted love herself to be convinced of that.

They literally abducted her because they'd feel incomplete without her, and Homura still was worrying in her head over not being good enough for them. Thinking about it that way, she really couldn't help but feel like a bit of an idiot.

"Besides, Candeloro-san only attacks with intent to kill in self-defence. Otherwise she never does anything worse than tie another up and force them to go along with her whims for a while. It's really not that big a deal."

"…I feel like if you said that around Kyoko or Sayaka they'd make fun of you by calling you a pervert who likes being tied up."

"Wha—" Madoka stuttered, starting in place. She sadly had no proper face to redden anymore, but the impression of something akin to it still came across. "That's… that's… hmph! A-anyway, the tomato plants…"

A clumsy attempt at changing the subject to save herself from the embarrassment, but Homura would play along. She didn't savour teasing Madoka nearly to the extent of the others… even if she occasionally succumbed to the temptation, and did understand the appeal.

"The tomato plants." Homura repeated with a nod, as Madoka walked back over to the plants of the garden. "How have things been going with them?"

"…Not great. I'm still trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong." Madoka frowned, crouching down next to a half-dead looking stalk. "Even if its sourced by magic, it should be comprehensive enough that there shouldn't be problems with the soil, the water or the false sunlight… I'm doing it like papa showed me when I volunteered to help, but they just aren't growing like they should."

"Can't your magic just fix the problem?" Homura asked, leaning against the fence as she shifted to get a slightly closer look at the plant stalk.

"Probably, but it could also skip things entirely and let me just summon fully-grown tomatoes outright with my Labyrinth. I can get what I want easily… but for this, the process is more important than the result. It's to remind me of what it was like to be a person, to work for something and achieve it through trial and error."

And Madoka chose starting a tomato plant garden for it to deepen the reminder, Homura could only assume, so tied up as it was in the memory of her father. A concrete, deeply human memory of hers, but rather than just copied outright like the Mitakihara recreation, this was something put together and brought into form with her own hands. Built and grown in the human way, for just this small part of the Labyrinth.

"But… it's frustrating. Water, sunlight, nutrient-rich soil, and they still just aren't really moving past flowering and shriveling up. I'm not bunching them together too closely, I don't think, but for whatever reason, they're just not growing like they should… is it a problem with the air in the Labyrinth? It shouldn't be different from the atmosphere of Earth, at least that much…"

Homura paused for a moment in thought, before speaking again. "Pollinators."

"…Eh?"

"Plants don't usually grow in isolation. They're supposed to be part of a wider ecosystem, with all sorts of minute interactions with other organisms.

But this is a world with no animals. No insects digging through the soil, or partaking of the flowers when they bloom… shifting the pollen between different parts of the flower."

"Ohhhhhh." Madoka made a psychic noise of realization. "So because there aren't any bees or anything to move them around, they're struggling to fruit as well as they should… even if they technically can, it's still making them pollinate less than they would otherwise."

"…That's my best guess." Homura said. "I'm not sure it's actually correct. You're better with gardening than me thanks to your personal experiences with your father… all I can really offer is things I vaguely remember from science class."

"No, no, it's fine. Even if the problem ends up actually being something else, that's still a very helpful observation that I overlooked, Homura-chan. I think tomatoes self-pollinate, but still benefit from bees, and if I grow anything else then having proper pollinators will be even more important." Madoka stretched out a talon, and after a few seconds of waiting, one of her familiars, those scale-birds, landed atop it like a large bird at rest on a falconer's glove. "Plants are easy, but using magic to make animals which work like they should… that'll require some practice. But I think I should be able to modify and command some of my Familiars to act like bees or hummingbirds for now."

"I see." Homura said idly. "…Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Oh, don't worry about it, Homura-chan. They'll have to grow a bit more before we really need to worry about trimming the leaves or anything. I know you want to help, but gardening involves just as much waiting as it does hard work sometimes."

"I suppose that makes sense." Homura said, after a small pause.

"…Are you worried that you're not doing enough?"

Madoka had always had occasional moments of startling perceptiveness throughout the timelines, and now that she remembered all of them, hiding things from her was nigh-impossible, Homura had quickly learned.

"…Maybe. I'm not sure, I know it's not rational, but…"

Homura trailed off. Madoka stood back up and walked over to Homura, placing a paw on Homura's shoulder. Despite the thin layer of soil covering it, Homura didn't push it away

"It's fine. I know it's difficult to ask you to just do… nothing, after so long feeling like doing so would let others die. It's hard to feel safe and secure in what you have here and now after years of everything being temporary, right?"

"…You know me better than I know myself sometimes, it feels." Homura said, a tinge of bitterness leaking into her tone.

"Of course. All of this is for you and us to share, after all." Madoka whispered, and even with featureless darkness in place of a proper face, Homura knew Madoka was smiling reassuringly.

The small moment was interrupted by Mami making a noise like a snore by way of clinking glass.

"Well, I don't need help here, but Oktavia-chan and Ophelia-chan would probably appreciate your help." Madoka said. "Something was bothering each of them a bit earlier this morning before we separated, and I think they'd appreciate talking things out and getting advice from you."

"…I'm not very good at talking to people, Madoka."

"I think you're better than you'd think, at least for what they're looking for." Madoka said. "You're very perceptive, understand them better than anyone else, and for how blunt you can seem, they understand that what you say comes from a place of wanting what's best for them. They respect your opinion more than you know."

The notion of any version of Sayaka respecting Homura's opinion would have been laughable to think about even a few weeks ago, but Homura didn't really have any option but to take Madoka's word for it. Things were different now, between the two of them, just as things were different between all of them.

"I know you wouldn't lie to me, so I have no choice but to take your word for it." Homura sighed, giving Madoka's paw a squeeze before moving it gently off of Homura's shoulder.

Madoka giggled. "Well, of course. Now, if you do actually want a break from Candeloro, you should probably get going. She seems about to wake up."

Homura nodded with perhaps more seriousness than warranted, and began to walk off. She didn't ask for direction before doing so, as the with the odd way things worked in this Labyrinth, she'd end up finding what she she was looking for sooner or later.

Sure enough, after a few minutes of walking, Homura heard familiar music in the distance. Sighing to herself, she turned to walk in the direction of it, following the increasing noise of the performance.

As she approached, she looked into the distance to see Sayaka laying on the ground with all the grace and suitable setting of a beached whale, sprawled out, grumbling to herself. A few familiars stood by, playing their violins, dancer-type spinning about more like a top than a choreographed human and circling Sayaka. She simply laid there uselessly rather than respond to the provocation, clearly not focused on the music but not gesturing for it to stop.

A few paces away from her and her retinue stood the entrance to a familiar ampitheatre. One of the first few unique areas added to the Labyrinth proper not part of the atrium which Homura had first woken up inside. The stark-white marble was clear and distinct in the sea of green grass spread out around it. Rather simple and minimalist.

"Sayaka." Homura called as she approached, but she found her voice snuffed out the noise of the rather screechy violin.

Homura sighed. She continued her approach, her footsteps unheard even as she was mere meters away from Sayaka's looming form.

"Sayaka."

The reclining Witch reflexively snapped out her arm, punching one of her playing Familiars hard enough to send it flying through the air. It soared for a few seconds before arcing back down, splattering into nothing more than puddle of questionable ink-like substance which quickly soaked into the grass.

The rest of the playing Familiars stopped. The dancing one didn't, seemingly oblivious.

"For the love of… can you not sneak up on me like that, transfer student?"

"I wasn't intending to. You were simply too occupied to hear my approach."

Sayaka twirled around, snaking her body upright as she levitated slightly off the ground, iron mask of a face looking down at the much smaller Homura with indeterminate emotion. Sayaka's telepathic voice, on the other hand, rather clearly showed how she was feeling.

"Uh-huh. You always were like that, popping out of nowhere all of a sudden to say something in that flat, dead-sounding voice of yours. Guess even now, some things don't change."

"Thanks, Sayaka. I really appreciate it." Homura drawled sarcastically. "…You're still calling me transfer student, really? I thought we were past that, and neither of us are students anymore. We are so divorced from anything even close to being students it's laughable."

"Oh, come on." Sayaka said, cheer in her voice contrasting exceedingly with her giant mermaid form. "Just think of it as a little term of endearment. 'No matter how much time passes, you'll still be my transfer student to me', or something along those lines."

"Fft." Homura clicked her tongue. "You really need to work on your nerves. I'd rather not be on the receiving end of getting punched like that unfortunate familiar of yours, ability to heal or no."

"Sorry, I guess hearing your voice just sets my heart racing or something." Sayaka teased, lazily leaning forward ever so slightly.

"…Or, more likely, something was bothering you."

Sayaka paused for a second, before letting out a sigh, seeming to sink back down to the ground just the slightest bit.

"Is this seriously what we're doing now?"

Homura narrowed her eyes. "I didn't need Madoka to point me in your general direction for it not to be obvious. Even before they swallowed you up and made you a Witch, you were always horrible at hiding your emotions."

"Okay, I guess. Feels like a bit of an uncharitable way to phrase it, though." Sayaka sighed. "Sabbat rules, share everything, even all your personal crap."

Sayaka floated over to the side of the amphitheatre, pressing a gauntlet against the side of it like brushing away dust from a plaque in a museum. She for just a second seemed tense, shivering, and the air got colder and moist around Homura.

"This should be enough, right?"

"That's unhelpfully nonspecific." Homura grumbled.

"There's only four others here now, besides me. If I ever do perform again, this should be more than what I need."

Sayaka sighed, bitterness, ice-cold, seeping into her voice.

"But I'm looking at it, thinking about my Labyrinth, fusing it to this greater one, and I can't stop thinking back to that stupid concert hall. It came into existence to torment me, to forever remind me of how lonely I was, and even so…"

"…Even so?"

"Part of me prefers it. Part of me wants to bring it back, even knowing on an intellectual level there's nobody to fill the seats. I should have enough. Four people… well, 'people'… who understand you perfectly even at your worst and still love you is more than most people are ever lucky to get, especially for someone as screwed up as me, but…

I'm still so pissed off constantly deep down, and I still can't stop thinking about Kyosuke and Hitomi even now that I understand how small and meaningless it was in the grand scheme of things. It shouldn't matter, we never were and never should have been more than just friends, him and Hitomi not being wrapped up and intertwined in this web like us is a good thing, they don't belong here or deserve any of it… so why can't I just let it go?"

"It's natural to be hung up on it, though." Homura said. "You're a Witch. Even if you understand something intellectually or not, you're still driven by your emotions first and foremost."

"But I'm the only one dealing with this." Sayaka spat bitterly. "All the rest of you seem perfectly content with just our Sabbat to direct your love towards. Meanwhile, here I am, still not having moved past a fixation on something that was always one-sided and self-destructive."

Sayaka floated backwards, continuing to stare at the amphitheatre with a quiet sorrow, so muted compared to the Witch's usual symphony of despair Homura had bore witness to time and time again, and yet nonetheless still as deep.

"Are you stupid?"

"What?!" Sayaka snarled, whipping her head around to look down at Homura.

"Sayaka, the reason you're the only one dealing with that isn't because you're somehow a worse person than us. It's because you're the only one here who ever lived a normal enough life to have had a relationship like that to get hung up on."

"That's—"

"Mami, Kyoko and I are all orphans. I never had anything to live for before meeting Madoka, Mami hadn't developed a meaningful friendship with anyone besides us ever since her parents died, and Kyoko has spent a not-insignificant amount of her life focusing on her own self-interest at the expense of normal people. You and Madoka are the only ones who had normal families, normal friends, anything approaching normal, shaping the direction of your life."

"…And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Of course you have complicated feeling about your friends who weren't related to the world of magic, even after you became part of our Sabbat. You having friends unrelated to the world of magic, in itself, is unique to you given our collective circumstances. We're not superior to you for not having a relationship besides each other to shape us, we're just more unlucky. You're the normal one here for having the ability to feel something like that."

"…But Madoka was right there alongside me, and Gretchen isn't dealing with it nearly as badly."

"Madoka misses her family horribly, even if you've been willfully ignoring the fact she's been trying to hide that out of respect for her." Homura sighed. "Honestly. How little some things change. Still as stubbornly fixated on the same sorts of things as before."

"Well, screw you too." Sayaka grumbled. The two of them stood silent as the dancer familiar continued to fumble about, spinning out of control before dizzily slamming face first into the wall of the amphitheatre.

"You know, I've always disliked Kyosuke Kamijo." Homura said, breaking a moment of silence. "I should, by all accounts, be sympathetic to his circumstances, as I personally know what it's like to be stuck in a hospital unable to envision a future for yourself. He, objectively speaking, isn't a bad person for having acted as he did, timeline after timeline."

Sayaka didn't speak up to interrupt, even with Homura making it clear where this was leading. Taking the silence as cue to continue, Homura opened her mouth again.

"Even knowing that… I still grew to consider him contemptible. He was self-pitying, clueless, inconsiderate, and overall loathsome. He thought his life was over because him losing his hand put an end to his dream, when many others stuck in that hospital were lucky to have enough hope to muster up a dream to begin with. Suffering or not, he couldn't even be bothered to try to pretend to be okay for the sake of those who clearly care about him.

Perhaps it's unfair to judge someone when I've only known them at their worst, seeing them forever replaying one of the worst months of their life without room to change… but the same could be said for me dealing with you, and even at your most frustrating or difficult, I never felt as much anger and frustration for you as I did Kamijo."

Sayaka cocked her head to the side. "Well then. And you wondered why I always instinctively disliked you timeline after timeline. I've been friends with him since my first year of grade school, you know, and you're still saying this to my face." Despite what she was saying, her psychic voice projected into Homura's mind didn't show any signs of anger.

"…The worst part of it was that it was him of all people you were willing to stake your life on and become a Magical Girl for. He didn't, couldn't, love you, and it was him you were throwing it all away for time and time again."

Homura let out a sigh. She was about to get teased for what came next, but ah well.

"I didn't understand what you saw in him, and I thought you deserved someone better than that."

Sayaka cackled. "Really! Were you jealous of him, transfer student? Is that what it was about?"

"Perhaps." Homura said exasperatedly. "Feelings are a difficult thing to navigate. I know now that I'm in love with you, but I certainly didn't at the time, if that even factored into my impression. I certainly never had a childhood friend who visited me in the hospital nearly every day even as I tried to push them away."

"Heh. If you had been more honest and confessed to me sooner, maybe I wouldn't have given you such a hard time."

Sayaka floated down, the ground shaking slightly as she fell down and laid back prone. Homura joined suit, collapsing back into the grass, the two of them looking up at the swirling colours in the alien sky.

"…Going back to a previous point, feeling bad because you were a bit luckier than the rest of us for a while is idiotic, you know."

"Haaaaaa…" Sayaka said. "I get it, I get it. That's not the sort of thing it's productive to feel guilt over. It doesn't really matter anyway now, since we all ended up in the same place at the end."

"I'll be upset with you if you make a point of trying to move on, since we both know that would only hurt you. That music is burned into your soul now, as things stand. And perhaps that makes you angry or melancholic, perhaps you still feel that need for more and more people to look at you… but just as well, you can use that music to fuel your own. It doesn't have to be purely a bad thing."

"Probably, yeah."

"If what your heart is telling you is that you need something grander than that amphitheatre, I'd say go ahead and follow it. Hahhhh, really, only you would ever make a point of somehow ending up a Witch who holds herself back."

"…Oh, come on. You're way worse than me when it comes to that, miss '100 timelines of bottled up romantic feelings for four different girls at once'. And even if I would like a nicer place to perform, there's not much point in someplace bigger when my audience is going to stay at a maximum of four others. And Familiars don't count, those things are closer to, like, organs than people."

"Hm." Homura said, smiling softly to herself. "Well, if you need more audience members, we've already agreed we're returning the Earth with full willingness to do bad things for our own satisfaction, just as much as for the greater good. We'll leave Kamijo and other normal people out of it, of course, but I'm sure we can still find a way to… fill seats."

"…I hate my stupid Witch brain giving me a knee-jerk positive response to that offer…" Sayaka groaned, slapping her tail down against the ground. "Ugh, we really are screwed up, aren't we? A gang of monsters corrupted by despair and love, and their pet masochistic freak who's fine with getting stained by it all when she gets too close."

"I am not a masochist." Homura said firmly, hoping the heat filling her face wasn't visible.

"Uh-huh." Sayaka scoffed, a single finger of her giant gauntlet coming down and stroking at Homura's hair and face, leaving her to freeze up. "Keep telling yourself that, transfer student. If you really want to replace Kyosuke in my heart so thoroughly I forget about him, you're going to have to be a bit more honest with yourself."

Homura bristled, eventually managing to push away the salt-smelling metal of the Witch's hand, hair thoroughly a mess.

"…You know, it kind of pisses me off." Sayaka said, voice softer than the words would imply.

"What does?"

"Over and over, nearly every single time, you rubbed me the wrong way. Obviously having some ulterior motive, obviously hiding things from us. Never bothering to explain anything until it was already too late. Never doing anything to dissuade me from thinking the worst of you.

And then, I get all of those memories back, and it turns out that you're not actually just some creep or weirdo, you're just stupid. You never communicated because you don't know how, and you were so unemotional seeming because you're a traumatized wreck. And now I'm left feeling like an asshole for things this version of me never technically did.

How am I even supposed to deal with that? Learning that I hurt someone I never meant to that badly, and learning that I care about and love that same person horribly, all at the same time?"

Homura huffed. "It's not my fault that your response to learning about all the previous timelines was to fall in love with me. I certainly didn't intend for that to happen."

Sayaka reached over and abruptly, albeiting gently, picked up Homura, causing her to let out a yelp of surprise.

"No, it is your fault. You're the one who made a point of being all stubborn and determined, and then being so caring and loving and earnest beneath it. Timeline after timeline of you worming your way into things until you screwed me out of the ability to imagine a life without you in it. You're just too cute and precious for your own good, so I didn't have a choice but to fall in love with you, you know?"

Homura managed an uneasy smile even with her quickly growing embarrassment. "You're just trying to get a reaction out of me, aren't you?"

Sayaka raised up Homura to her face, long hair falling down around Homura's head, and leaned slightly closer like a child appraising a doll of theirs. "And too clever for your own good, too. C'mon, can't you just play along a little and squirm all cutely for me?"

"I have other things I was intending to do today, Sayaka…!" Homura gasped, shivering slightly as a metal fingertip pushed up gently against the curve of her jaw and insistently raised it upward, rubbing it gently like one would pet a cat beneath the chin.

"Well, too bad. You belong to me now, which means I'm going to do what I want with you, as is natural for a Witch. So you'll just have to sit there and indulge me for a little while longer."

Homura grumbled to herself as a giant gauntleted finger poked her cheek, overpowering smell of saltwater filling her nose. Sayaka's mental laugh had a melodic quality to it.

"You understand, right, Ho~ mu~ ra?" Sayaka chuckled.

…Homura exhaled, swallowing back her nervousness and flusterment. This was just what it was like to belong to Witches, something she had known and still chose to accept, so she had already forfeited the right to complain in earnest.

Sayaka really was always a pain, no matter what form she took.

Homura grumbled, running a hand through her hair to pull apart the tangles, as she continued her directionless walking.

At least Mami wasn't that obtrusive when she got all touchy-feely outside of when she resorted to binding others in place. Sayaka being of such size she could easily pick Homura up and handle her like a doll was much more embarrassing than even the worst of what Mami could subject her to.

Well, that's just how things went sometimes. Homura's hair being such a frazzled mess now was irritating though.

Homura had made it to the edge of the Labyrinth now, looking up to see the stick-like trees, coloured unevenly with a texture like pencil crayon. It seemed like the most likely place Homura would find the only member of the Sabbat she hadn't seen yet today, and so here she ended up.

Homura walked amongst the hollowed-out conceit of a forest, no usual ambience to break the maddening silence. It was out-of-place before, but Homura felt it even more keenly now, with this Labyrinth not just her prison but her home.

If things did end up with them dragging other Magical Girls or Witches into their twistedness, actually putting effort to making a proper entrance or exit rather than the placeholder here was probably a good idea in the long-term.

"Hey, Homura."

Homura heard Kyoko clock her presence before she even saw her, which was impressive considering how her Witch body meant she was perpetually on fire and thus rather easy to notice. Luckily, she had enough control over herself that said fire didn't burn things around it unless such was her intent, because otherwise her sitting on a log in the forest as she was would be a fire hazard in and of itself.

"Kyoko." Homura said in acknowledgement, a simple greeting. She steeped through the mulch over towards the log and sat next to her.

Silence, save for the cracking and popping of Kyoko's flame.

"Lemme guess. Here because you're wondering what I was doing?"

"I'd say that's accurate, yes." Homura nodded.

"Well, it's the usual reason. Nothing greater or more meaningful than some stupid compulsion." Kyoko sighed.

"I see." Homura replied flatly. "…As for myself, I've been thinking about what sorts of things I would like to add to this Labyrinth. Things to truly make this feel like not just a world in itself, but our world."

"You'd probably be better off hashing out ideas with one of the others. Oktavia's the artist, and Gretchen and Candeloro have plenty more artistic sense over me."

Homura leaned slightly to the side, pressing her shoulder up against the Witch's own. "And maybe that's reason enough for me to want to talk to you, isn't it? You have a unique perspective compared to the others regarding things like this."

Kyoko's mental sigh rubbed up against Homura's mind as the Witch stiffened for just a moment, before relaxing. "Ugh. So, you're not gonna back down, huh?"

"You and I know both from personal experience how determined I can be." Homura said firmly.

"Fine, fine. I get it, I get it." Kyoko grumbled. "Yeah, I've got some crap that's been bothering me. It's like… more I think of myself relative to the others, more I feel like I'm the odd one out here."

"Is that so?"

The hollow kimono sleeve whipped out in some gesticulation as the fire got slightly hotter against Homura's skin. "Not like, in a superficial way, it wouldn't bother me if it was something meaningless like that. It's more like… why am I the only one who keeps feeling these urges to run off and be alone?"

Kyoko's body leaned backwards slightly as she stretched out, small patches of fabric slightly buffeting against Homura's body, as she expanded like a balloon filling with heated air. It made her suddenly seem almost twice as large, giving off a definite impression of agitation.

"The others get it. They're all about, like, holding those you love close no matter what, even if you hurt them or drag them down with you in the process. My human part can easily look at that and recognize it as love, even if screwed-up.

But then there's me, the only one here who can't even act like this is something they want. If Witches are supposed to be creatures all about twisted love, why do I have to deal with this push and pull of leaving and insincerely coming back, instead of just being, like, insane about expressing how much they mean to me like they are?"

Homura exhaled. "For what it's worth, I've never felt need to doubt the sincerity of your intentions. To me, you were just as much part of my captors as the rest of them… and now you're mine just like the rest of them."

"Well, I'm glad you feel that way… but the problem isn't how the rest of you feel, I know how you feel, you make it pretty obvious. The problem is how I feel, and how it's self-contradictory and stupid. Why am I the only one who has reason to doubt their feelings even after I became a Witch?"

Homura stayed silent at that, uncertainty regarding what to say leaving the question to hang in the air. She sighed, flipping back her hair as Kyoko both literally and figuratively fumed.

"…You're not as unique as you think, not knowing how to say the right thing to make your feelings clear or how to be sure of them. If anything, you're much better at being direct than I am most of the time. And Sayaka was in just as much of a rut as you are now when I talked to her about an hour ago."

"Well, Sayaka's always about been about making herself out to be worse than she actually is. I think that just means she's a bit of a dumbass rather than that we're the same here." Kyoko scoffed.

"…If you were only Ophelia, with no Kyoko mixed in… you'd be more assured of what you are. But you'd also be a monster incapable of doing anything but stewing in regret and lashing out over unrealized or unfulfilled love. Those feelings about this… I'd say it's proof you are actually happy."

Kyoko laughed. "And it's making me freak out and run off like a jackass without explaining myself?"

"Maybe so." Homura hummed, leaning further into Kyoko's warmth. "We're all practiced liars who struggled time and time again to recognize our own feelings and express them in a way that could be understood, after all, so it's not like you're unique in that way."

Homura felt a bit more emotion seep into her voice as she continued.

"Maybe for a long time, love for you was abandoning others, turning your back on things. Maybe it still is. But you're here, and you're mine, and I have no reason to doubt the truth of it. We're all broken, but we took the pieces and put each other back together into things which can be happy… and some of the pieces got mixed up. You have pieces of me, as I have pieces of you. So, please, don't think you don't belong. You complete this, you complete me, us. We couldn't be here without you."

"Okay, I think you're being a bit too much of a sap." Kyoko grumbled lightheartedly. Homura felt the fabric of a sleeve meet her face and push her back. "Really, all that distant cool girl act, and the moment I get you going, you're a bigger damn romantic than Oktavia."

Homura pushed away the sleeve, affixing Ophelia with a glare. "I'll say what I want. I don't need your permission."

"Pfft." Kyoko scoffed.

"Maybe you're self-contradictory and cowardly. But you're also a bad liar, and we both know that you've proven what you really want beneath it all many times already since the Sabbat formed. So of course you belong here, and always will, until the end of time."

"Man. You're real pissed off on my behalf about this, beneath it all, aren't you."

"Is it unwarranted?"

Even without a proper head, Kyoko managed to communicate the idea of shaking one through her body language. "Nah. I'm the biggest dumbass I know, and my policy on dumbasses has always been to thrash them until they see sense."

Homura allowed herself a dry chuckle at that, before letting out a yelp as Kyoko collapsed down onto her, suffocatingly warm fabric covering her and pushing her over to fall back onto the log.

"Kyoko, give me some warning before you—" Homura shouted.

"My bad, my bad. It's a reflex, you see. I saw a dumbass and felt the need to pounce."

"Oh, shut up."

The log was hard and uncomfortable as it dug into Homura's back, but the fine fabric making up Kyoko's body was warm and soft enough that she still struggled to build up the will to move. Kyoko's nozzle head was nestled up against Homura's shoulder, and even with the flames from atop it licking at Homura's hair, the sensation was still only comfortably warm, nothing catching alight from Kyoko's fire.

Homura simply stayed there, limp, trapped beneath Kyoko for a minute or two, before a voice pressed up against her mind again.

"Hey, so, change of subject, but… do you still believe in God, Homura?"

What an absurd thing to be asked while being pinned down to the ground and embraced by a Witch, an existence that traditional wisdom would have considered in league with the devil.

"What makes you think I ever did?"

Kyoko let out a giggle which quickly grew out of proportion, her body shaking against Homura as she laughed wildly.

"Tch, okay, sure, chuunibyou." Kyoko said snidely after she finally managed to stop laughing. "Nice try. You having gone to Catholic School is one of the few things about yourself you didn't bother to hide during the timeloops, and even if I wasn't attending, don't think I didn't sniff that out more than enough times to know what I'm talking about."

Homura sighed, furrowing her brow. She pushed herself up, forcing Kyoko back upright alongside her. "Calling it a Catholic boarding school was mostly just a way to frame things less depressingly than calling it an orphanage." She said bitterly. "Nicer, not nearly as underfunded compared to most other places in the country from what I'm given to understand, but still… not the place people usually come out of with fond memories. Or particularly functional."

"And that time you told me you were baptised?"

"Not old enough to have had any real say in that."

Kyoko's nozzle-head cocked to the side. "That's great and all, but you're avoiding giving me a straight answer to the actual question."

Homura let out a long sigh. "I did at one point. I attended Sunday service, I learned about bible stories, everything expected of me, and questions or not, you're inclined to believe things you're told at that age. But being on your own from the moment you can first remember when most kids weren't, and then getting diagnosed with a congenital heart defect you're told has a quite high chance to kill you before you can even get to attend high school… it's hard to feel like the world really is being looked over by someone with your best interests at heart when it's that unfair."

"Mmm." Kyoko offered a hum, perhaps not of agreement, but of acknowledgement.

"And then things did get better. The surgery was a success. I met Madoka, giving me a reason to live for the first time. I don't remember it well, the exact things I thought at the time, but I can imagine myself having thought 'so there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe things do all happen for a reason.' at the time."

"And then Kyubey."

"Yes, and then Kyubey. More real, more vile than any demon in any story I was ever told about. Some uncaring alien thing telling me that it is right and just that me and everyone I care about will die young or suffer something even worse, because that's the real higher plan the universe is based upon."

"Heh." Kyoko laughed darkly, without anything in the way of warmth.

"…As far as I see it, either God isn't real, or he is and he created the Incubators along with everything else. The former is more comforting, so I'll choose to believe that."

Kyoko stayed quiet, seeming to be taking a moment to take in Homura's response.

"Anyway, you're the pastor's daughter between the two of us. You have much more reason to have an opinion on this, and it's only fair to share it after asking me mine."

Kyoko sighed. "I think I'd find it easier if I could just say I don't believe anymore. World certainly put me through the wringer enough to warrant losing one's faith, even before taking into account the timeloop I didn't know about."

Homura closed her eyes. "I get the impression there's an unspoken 'but' in there."

"…I prayed. Whenever I was pushed to the brink, whenever one of you who I felt like I needed to save was on the verge of disappearing… I still prayed. Certainly wasn't living in a way God'd approve of anymore, didn't care about my own salvation. And yet more than once… right before the me in a timeline died, I prayed. Never for myself, always for another. Like muscle memory."

"…I was never there to watch you die, more often than not." Homura mumbled bitterly.

"It's screwed up, isn't it?" Kyoko growled. "I was warned about it. Always told by my dad about how the devil was a deceiver who would make false promises of power and fulfilling desires to lead humans astray from God's light. I, more than anyone else, was warned about Kyubey's exact methodology… and I still took the bait."

"You were a child, and your family was starving." Homura said firmly, angrily. "I already know you regret your wish, you made a point of taking it out on Sayaka plenty of times. But as far as I see it, your father refused to compromise, and rather than just suffering the consequences of his excommunication on his own, he dragged you and your family into it. He refused to ensure his family, his still-growing daughters, were having their basic human needs met, because he was too prideful to reconsider his stance and decided it was more important to stay firm on it than do his job as a parent. He wouldn't make sure you all were fed, so his daughter had to make a decision nobody should have to to help protect his pride and feed her younger sister. Even if what he preached was as good as your childhood memories dictate, even if we take the least charitable interpretation of your own actions… you're still a significantly better person than your father ever was, Kyoko."

"I mean, yeah." Kyoko said. "It's just… I don't know. He was my dad. You can't be that to someone and not screw them up in a way that sticks with 'em. The way things ended up there was why I resolved myself to only look out for my own interests and not care about anyone else, to try and leave him and mom and Momo behind… but we both know at that point just how embarrassing of a lie that resolution ended up being. So here I am, still stuck with all the things he imparted on me. And just as much as him, I can't let God go either, even though I really just wish I could."

Kyoko leaned back, nozzle-head affixed skyward, to the smear of colour forever melting together overhead.

"I guess… gun to my head, I don't really know anymore, but I, very slightly, still believe in God more than I don't. But even if he does, the salvation he offers doesn't extend to us. Maybe mom and Momo are having a good time in heaven, and that's a comforting thought, but I'm never seeing them again regardless."

Kyoko gestured down at herself. "I mean, honestly. Body made in God's image? Dead and buried by now, instead I got whatever this is supposed to be. My immortal soul? Had it taken out and put in a rock, then stained it with so much sin whole thing turned inside out. For all God's supposed to be able to save anyone, honestly can't blame the guy for writing me off as a lost cause."

"Maybe so." Homura said. "…Your dad's in hell, then, and you're not."

Kyoko let out a small chuckle at that. "I guess that's what that would imply."

"Ha." Homura smiled. "God didn't grant us salvation after one hundred timelines, but Madoka did. Maybe we should just start worshipping her instead."

Kyoko cackled, less strained, more her this time. "Right, yeah. You certainly worship her a lot with your eyes already. Next we should have you do it with your tongue."

"…Why do I even bother?" Homura bemoaned. "Moment I let my guard down or give you a centimeter of leeway, you all descend on me like vultures. Do you really think that's the right way to treat your girlfriend?"

"Maybe not every possible girlfriend, no." Kyoko said gleefully. A limp sleeve flopped against Homura's side in a rather ineffectual attempt to elbow her in the ribs. "Certainly the right way to treat my Homura, though."

"…Is there any particularly reason you asked me if I still believed in God?"

"Oh, uh." Kyoko instantly deflated, becoming sheepish. "I mean, you asked me about adding things to the Labyrinth, and I didn't really have any ideas, so I figured… if you said yes, I could build like a church or something. Then Mami wouldn't get on my case for not pulling my weight."

"Really then." Homura said. "If you're really feeling that hopeless, maybe I'll just have to stay here and help you brainstorm."

"…I don't like the way you said that for some reason."

Homura let her smile widen ever-so-slightly. "Oh come on, Kyoko. What do you have to fear from me?"

Madoka, as it turned out, was not able to convince Mami it was solely her responsibility like her confidence suggested. And so Homura found herself spirited away back to the bed pavillion at a moment of letting her guard down, tied up spread eagle, the smallest Witch among the Sabbat crawling atop her body like a tarantula as she hummed to herself.

"I like the way the sky looks now, of course, but I still think I'd like to try making it blank and permeable, so you can see outside of the Labyrinth from it. It would be a waste to be out here in space and not be able to see the stars, no?"

"I guess not." Homura said unenthusiastically.

"Beyond that… an outdoor flower garden, similar to the atrium but with so much more room for flowers. With a nice big open-air gazebo for enjoying tea with a large group. And a nice lakeside to swim in."

"That all makes sense."

"That's about what I'm thinking of adding to the Labyrinth. Did you have any ideas, Homura?"

Homura sighed. "Given our plans, we're probably gonna end up dragging some Magical Girls or Witches here sooner or later. Since this place was built with the main focus already inside, rather than to draw prey to it, the actual barrier ward is simple. I was thinking… a proper entrance hall. Statues to command respect, awe. To let those who set foot in here get an impression of who we really are… those who overcame the limits of the system we were trapped in."

"Something a bit self-aggrandizing… perhaps I should disapprove, but given your low self-esteem, I really can't. Very good, Homura. I like this idea."

"That's good to hear. …Can you untie me already then."

"Ah, ah, ah!" Mami said playfully, swaying in place from atop Homura's torso. "Your punishment isn't over yet."

Homura felt like mentioning the story of this being Madoka's fault, but found herself unable to. Even now, hopelessly in love as she was, she couldn't throw Madoka under the bus.

"I feel like you're having a bit too much fun for this being supposed to be a punishment."

"Unruly juniors have to be properly trained." Mami sang. "Don't worry, I'm not really that upset. I've found that, if anything, having people who cause me trouble is a lot more fun than those who always do what I say."

"…You're the scariest out of all of us, you know."

"Well, no need to be mean."

Homura sighed, leaning her head back slightly on the mattress beneath her. "You know there is such a thing as too much, right?"

"Yes." Mami said, voice turning stern and serious on the flip of a dime. "I do need to compromise, I understand. Having everyone close to me at every hour of the day isn't good for any of us."

"…Okay, so you're just doing this because you find making me feel uncomfortable fun, then."

"You know Madoka sold you out, right?"

Homura glared. "She would never."

"How unfortunate, Homura." Mami cooed, a feeler sliding up and rubbing against the exposed skin on Homura's neck affectionately. "She set a trap, a test of your loyalty, and you failed. Now I get to do what I want to pay back that betrayal."

"You're in a better mood than the others were today." Homura noted calmly.

"Oh, were they… alright?"

A moment of showing one's weak spot capitalized on, but not by Homura.

"Alright, Candeloro, you've had your fun. Can you please release Homura already? It's too much work to figure out how to make a cuddle pile with her tied up on the ground to the mattress, unable to move."

For all her performative dominance, Mami folded nigh-instantly. "Yes, Gretchen." The ribbons attached to Homura's wrists and ankles retracted so quickly they almost gave her friction burns.

Despite being now free, Homura was too tired to get up, leaving Madoka to crumple down next to her, wrapping her in a hug. Other collapsed onto the mattress alongside her, the only one heavy enough to make a noticeable impact being Sayaka.

Homura's statement from earlier seemed to have worked as intended, as Mami was fussing over the other two for now, distracting them in turn, leaving Homura to be only targeted by Madoka.

"Is it time to sleep again already?" Homura asked.

"No, I just felt the urge to cuddle with everyone." Madoka hummed.

"…Of course you did." Homura sighed fondly.

"The rebuilding is coming along nicely, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Homura mumbled. "Still very early on, though."

"It'll be great." Madoka said with complete certainty.

"Madoka." Homura said, listening to the chattering of the other a few meters away. "You don't need to try to entice me anymore. If you want to do things that aren't… recognizably human, with this place, you shouldn't worry about how I'll react to it."

"I…" Madoka said uneasily, before swallowing. "Alright. I understand."

Homura smiled. "Good." She rolled onto the side, looking at Mami slinking along the side of Sayaka, Kyoko folded up flat in one of her raised hands.

"I'm sure it'll all be great." She reaffirmed.