#redstringed

Homura wakes up in the aftermath, feeling only a distinct, echoing numbness. --- Madoka said she would always be with them. She thinks she can hear her, sometimes. If she tries hard enough, she thinks she can see her, however slightly. --- “There are no more witches on Earth,” the tiny girl in frilled, lacy pink says quietly. “I’m glad. I really am. But…” Homura’s steps forward in this space are tentative. But? Madoka’s expression now is so similar to another she used to wear, forever and nowhere ago. But not quite; there’s something else there. “There’s still so much despair in the world. Still so much,” she says, rose-colored eyes flashing with blue and gold-flecked determination. “I wish-” Even now, those words make Homura’s breath catch in her throat and eyes flicker around in search of telltale red and white. “I wish I could do more.” Her next words send chills running down Homura’s spine for a reason she cannot place. “I would save them all, if I could.” --- The next time they meet (if it could be called that), Homura asks (tentatively, as if she were still that girl from so many timelines ago) if she is doing okay. Madoka shakes her head and smiles gently. “I told you then. As long as I can keep smiles on those girls’ faces, I have no reason to despair.” --- This time, their surroundings look like Mitakihara. It is a far cry from the swirling eddies of white and black that made up the space last time. “What are you playing at?” It stops the other girl dead in her tracks. “Homura… chan?” the pinkette whispers, a sound so hurt and confused that Homura almost falters. No, she tells herself. She must be strong. “…You don’t trust me,” Madoka says eventually. There is a weak smile on her face that doesn’t reach her eyes. Don’t look at me like that. “Answer my question.” Please. “Homura-chan… why is it wrong to wish for people’s happiness?” Because it will turn you into a monster! Because you don’t need to sacrifice yourself! Because, because… because… A million and one and many more, but none of these are what she shouts in return: “Because that isn’t what you wished for! --- “Akemi-san?” Tomoe Mami is leaning towards her, peering into the archer’s face with some amount of concern.  Homura doesn’t respond immediately, instead sifting through the memories of the encounter and filing it away.  “Akemi-san?” Mami repeats, more insistently this time. “Akemi-san, are you feeling all right?” This time, Homura remembers reality, and bows a little in apology. “Ah… I am. I’m sorry to have worried you.” Mami’s visage smoothes itself back into a congenial politeness as her posture straightens, hands clasping themselves primly over her uniform skirt. “Ah, good. You seemed to be quite out of it for a little while. You wouldn’t respond no matter what I said…” Her gaze grows sharp despite no change in the musculature of her face. “It’s not your Soul Gem, is it? The cubes have been somewhat harder to come by as of late, and with the three of us sharing…” Homura raises her left hand to cut off the upperclassman, memories of an alternate timeline overlaying the present. “No, it’s not. Nothing like that.” “Very well,” Mami concedes. “Still, maybe you should try to take it a little easy for a little while, okay? Sakura-san and I can handle the Wraiths for the time being.” She smiles slightly. “You’re an important member of our team, Homura. It would be terrible if we lost you like…” Sayaka, Mami would finish haltingly, but Madoka is the name Homura hears instead. She bows her head once more. “I apologize, Tomoe-san. I will try not to give you reason for concern.” --- Keep it up, Gretchen croons. And in Madoka’s stead, Homura smiles the smile that Gretchen can’t.