"If you were anyone else, you probably wouldn't believe what I'm about to tell you." The heavy words leave your mouth, doing little to ease your burden. What if she didn't believe you? What if this was a mistake? Even if Homura travelled through time, even if she's met you in every world, why did you expect her to believe you? What if this moment ends up erased, like all the rest? The pain and regret would've all been for nothing.
Invisible needles poke and prod your face. Your breathing becomes erratic. Sweat dampens your brow. You clutch the bed sheets, your fingers turning a deep crimson. Was it okay? What if Kyubey overhears you? He saw you. You know he was there, staring down at you, his red eyes stirring in the shadows.
You turn, expecting to see a small, dark silhouette in the window sill.
There was nothing, save for the form of the ephemeral Madoka, something only you could see. Her transparent figure blends with the light of the setting sun. Her eyes were bright, and her smile beaming. "
It's okay, Momoka. I'll be fine. Do what you think you should."
"What did you want to say?" Homura says, prompting you to jump. Homura sits in the chair just to the right of the bed. Your eyes meet. You avert your gaze, doing what little you could to stifle your anxiety.
"T-the truth is, there's something I've been wanting to talk about. Something important."
"Something important?" Homura purses her lips. She pauses, then frowns. It was her turn to look away. "More important than your sister?"
"What?" You grit your teeth. "No, what are you talking about?"
"It's a simple question, Momoka Kaname." Homura leans forward, her face hovering just inches from yours. She gazes into your eyes. A cold, piercing stare that threatens to freeze you whole. "Is it?"
"I-I…" Your teeth chatter. "I-it's for her. It was for her sake."
"For her?" Homura clicks her tongue.
"Yes, it was for Madoka! I wasn't trying to kill myself. I was just trying to help." The sheets crumple in your grip, your knuckles turning a pristine white. "Please, you have to understand!"
"What would've happened if I hadn't come along?"
"You would've--"
"You would be dead."
An irrefutable truth. It was a fight you couldn't win. If you had that much trouble fighting Kaoru, the minute Umika joined properly, it was a foregone conclusion.
"Maybe, but… you have to understand." You've yet to explain, or give her a reason to believe your words. If she knew your circumstances, then surely that would make a difference. "But, you would have turned back time, right? You'd make it so that nothing would have ever happened. So, even if I died, you would have--"
"You knew?" Homura stares.
"Y-yes, I'm sorry." You apologize, retreating into your covers. "I knew."
"How long have you known?"
"Since before you transferred."
"You're a fool." Homura pinches the bridge of her nose. "Madoka would grieve. It doesn't matter what your reason is. If you end up dead, it would have been for nothing."
"That's…" She was right. You would be dead. "But, I just couldn't sit by when I could save someone else." Your eyes blur, wet with tears. "Homura, I'm trying to save Madoka. I'm trying to…"
Homura's hands strain, her knuckles their own shade of white. "Don't use her as an excuse."
The words weren't coming to you. All you had to do was explain yourself. Tell her about the other Madoka, about shifting to a different world, about the isolation. Despite her indignant glare, you wanted to tell her everything. "I've been purifying witches."
The words catch her off guard. Homura blinks, forgetting her anger for a brief second. "What?"
"I've been purifying witches. Well, not 'me', specifically. It's more like a power I have." It was easier to explain the 'power' than it was the presence of another Madoka. "Since I knew about you, I know about witches."
"Purifying witches?" Homura's eyes narrow.
"It's… like making so they never contracted to begin with." You frown, your eyes drifting to the swaying curtains.
"That was you?" Homura brings a hand to her chin.
"Wait!" You sit up in bed, grabbing Homura's arms. "You can feel that? You notice it!?"
Homura pulls her arms free from your vice grip.
"S-sorry." You stutter, nestling back into your covers.
"How did you find out about me?"
You look to the transparent Madoka for reassurance. She nods. If Homura has experienced the shifting, then this next part was easier to explain. "Another Madoka. She's the one who purifies the witches. I'm acting as ... kind of like an inbetween."
A silence falls. Homura rests her hands on her lap, color returning to her fingers. She exhales. "For the sake of the argument, let's say I believe you, given what you've said so far. How does that change your situation?"
"That's why I was fighting. It doesn't change what happened, but it's the reason I did it." You frown. "It was for Madoka's sake. She wants to make a world without witches. If I can make that happen, then I have to do whatever I can." Your body has been pushed to the limit time and again. The only thing that spurred you on through the loneliness was the promise that it would end some day. Whether that day was soon or not, you didn't know.
"Did she ask you to fight them?"
"What?"
"You said it was for Madoka's sake, didn't you?" Homura stands up from her seat, a hand resting on her side. "Did she ask you to fight them?"
"W-well…"
"Of course not." Homura frowns. "She's much too kind."
"I didn't have a choice!" You lean forward, your body aching. "I had to do
something, Homura!"
"You didn't have to do anything." Homura sits, unfazed by your anger. "What good is that power of yours if you die for the sake of one grief seed? For one magical girl? If you die, that's it. It's over."
"But I didn't die!" You hit the mattress with an open palm. "I'm still here, and I still have a job to do! I can't let this one thing hold me back. I have to make her dream come true. I have to!"
"You're hopeless." Homura runs a hand through her hair, her braid billowing in the gentle breeze. She pivots, walking toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Out." She doesn't turn to face you. "I don't want to be here for what happens next."
"What?"
The door opens with a thud.
"Momo!" A familiar voice snaps your attention to the door. Your sister dashes in, her face wet with tears of her own. "Momo, are you okay!?"
"She's fine." Homura says, her frigid demeanor switching back to the demure school girl. "I was just on my way out."
Sayaka enters the room. "See, Madoka? The doctor said she was fine. Thanks for taking care of the idiot for us, transfer student. It was, uh, Akemi, wasn't it?"
"Homura is fine." She bows. "I'll be taking my leave. Feel better, Momoka."
"Yeah." You grit your teeth, averting your eyes from Homura as she shuts the door behind her.
"What happened between you two?" Sayaka glances between you and the door. "Were you fighting? Thought we heard yelling coming down the hallway."
"Kind of." You frown. "What did the doctor say?"
"Said you were good to go home in a little bit." Sayaka says, a hand resting on her hip. "Man, how did you end up collapsing? You not taking care of yourself?"
"I don't know." The question prompts fatigue to wash over you like a wave. You fall backward into the pillow, staring straight up at the tiled ceiling. You were, and you weren't. You did the bare minimum as far as your health was concerned. Grief seeds weren't a problem, given your circumstances -- not that they knew about that part of your life.
"Momo, what happened?" Madoka asks, her hands clasping your own. "You seemed fine when we were talking on the phone. So, when the next thing I hear is that you're in the hospital, I'm…" Tears well up in her eyes.
It wasn't grieving your death, but you still made her cry. After all of that, you had nothing to show for it save your sister's tears and a broken bond.
You couldn't win.
[_] Tell her the truth of what happened. This was no time for secrets. It may be a mistake, but it was better than torturing her like this. You would deal with the consequences.
[_] Say nothing, because you had nothing
to say.
[_] Come up with a plausible story. Madoka shouldn't know about this. This was your fight, not hers. If you tell her, she would inevitably contract and who else knows what would happen.
[_] Write-in