Sunset ^beta

Sometimes Homura couldn't remember what was real and what wasn't. Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe she was still trapped in the labyrinth her witch had created inside her Soul Gem. Maybe there was no world outside the bounds of this artificial Mitakihara. But she didn't care. She was a devil, having stolen a goddess' power to create her own ideal world.

Casting a glance around the classroom, Homura rested her chin in her hand. This world existed for Madoka, so Homura had to ensure Madoka wouldn't be lonely. Sayaka and Kyouko chatted happily with her while Hitomi and Kyousuke approached. Madoka smiled brightly, every inch a normal girl.

Yet Homura's chest still ached. Sometimes Madoka's eyes flashed gold and she stared at Homura so mournfully, as if she still carried sparks of divinity within her. But then her eyes would be normal again, and she'd be nothing more than a regular girl, and relief washed over Homura. This was the world she had created for Madoka, after all.

Something dark flashed across Homura's gaze as a sudden pain shot through her body, and she nearly doubled over at her desk.

"Homura-chan?" Madoka quickly rushed over to Homura, her pink eyes filled with worry. "Are you all right? Do you want me to take you to the nurse's office?"

"I'm fine," Homura answered, trying to force a smile. "Just a dizzy spell, that's all."

A smile of relief came upon Madoka's lips as she clapped her hands together. "Then if you're not busy after school, do you want to hang out with me and the others?"

Homura's fingers tensed. It wasn't safe for her to be so close to Madoka, lest Madoka start to remember, but whenever she reached out, Homura could never bring herself to refuse. "Yes, I'd be delighted," she said, and Madoka's smile grew brighter.

As evening fell, the group began to go their separate ways, and eventually Homura was left alone with Madoka. The streets were mostly empty as the setting sun cast long shadows, and occasionally Homura spotted remnants of her witch's familiars out of the corner of her eye, but otherwise, as she walked side-by-side with Madoka, she could pretend things were normal.

Madoka mostly spoke of the time she had spent overseas with her parents and little brother, and Homura listened intently. Maybe her memories were true or maybe those memories of overseas had simply been implanted when Homura rewrote reality, but it was clear how much Madoka loved her family. In this world, Madoka could be with her beloved family again. She didn't have to leave them behind just to save Homura. This time, Homura wouldn't fail to save Madoka.

The sky colored in sunset began to crack and fragments fell away, revealing absolute darkness, the darkness beyond time. Homura froze; she knew that darkness well. She had seen it every time she failed to save Madoka, in the moments before waking up in that hospital bed yet again. She had seen it when Madoka made her final wish and ceased to be, becoming a concept like a goddess. Upon breaking free of her Soul Gem, Homura had embraced that darkness to save Madoka one more time, to make reality the world her witch had dreamed of.

As they sky fell to pieces, the darkness screamed and lurched, engulfing Homura—

"Homura-chan?"

She blinked. The sunset-colored sky hung above, not a cloud in sight, and Madoka stared at Homura, eyes wide with worry. "Madoka?" was all she could say.

Madoka moved as if to reach for Homura, but instead went still. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Homura pressed her fingers to her forehead. "It's gotten late, so maybe I should head home."

"Are you happy?"

Homura jerked her head up, and for a moment she could've sworn Madoka's eyes had flashed gold. But no, her eyes were normal, that same shade of pink as cherry blossoms. So Homura simply tried to smile and said, "Yes, I am happy."

Madoka smiled too, a smile that Homura couldn't quite place, and she walked with Homura to her lonely home, before the darkness could claim them both.

Sometimes Homura dreamed of the past. Or maybe it was simply an idealized past, her mind rewriting events over and over so that she wouldn't be crushed by the weight of countless regrets. She couldn't tell, but she didn't care. She couldn't regret her choices now. She couldn't regret turning her back on heaven so that Madoka could be something like human again.

She dreamed of all the times she had failed to save Madoka, but also of the happier moments she had shared (wished for) with Madoka. Holding hands on a sunny day, sharing kisses under a starry night sky, tender moments that existed just for the two of them. If she could relive those memories over and over, she didn't need heaven.

But then the dreams would transform into nightmares. Madoka was killed, over and over, her body crushed or pierced or torn apart, and not only her, but also Mami and Sayaka and Kyouko and countless other magical girls whose names Homura had long since forgotten. Madoka used to ask Homura how many magical girls she had seen die, and she'd always answer she had lost count a long time ago. But now she had created a world for Madoka and all her friends. She was no goddess, only a devil stealing the powers of a goddess, but it was enough. It had to be, she told herself, over and over.

When she awoke, she couldn't tell if she was still dreaming or not. Her broken familiars stared down at her, sneering like they always did, and something like black smoke tainted her vision. Maybe this whole world was just a dream, but she had created it for Madoka's sake.

She loved Madoka. Whatever came her way, whatever suffering she brought upon herself, she could endure it all for Madoka.

As she left her home for yet another routine school day, she touched the cursed earring that hung from her left ear, and still a dark fog seemed to linger around her. Her fingers tightened around the straps of her schoolbag; she was just feeling a little light-headed, that was all. She had to remain calm. If she succumbed, that darkness within her would break free, and thus all her sacrifices and sins would be for naught.

For Madoka's sake, she could not let this fragile world fall to ruin.

The path she walked to school was the same path she had always walked, over and over as she had repeated this time so often she had eventually lost count. She blinked; no, it wasn't the same. The sky was cracking again and the road was twisting like a möbius strip, and broken black feathers littered the ground. Save for her jeering familiars, there was no one else in sight, and the buildings grew distorted like computer glitches. Homura slapped her hands over her ears, but the earring of her corrupted Soul Gem burned her fingers.

Corrupted. Her magic was growing corrupted. After all, she was no longer a magical girl but a devil. She had embraced the curse of her Soul Gem to steal divinity to remake the world. Even corrupted magic had its uses.

But how many times could a world be remake before it began to fall apart?

"Homura-chan!"

She blinked again, and once more the world was normal, and Madoka stood beside her. "Madoka?" she found herself saying. Maybe she was still hallucinating.

Madoka smiled warmly, as if ignorant of the world around her growing corrupted from Homura's cursed magic. "I'm glad I was able to catch up to you!" she exclaimed. "Let's walk to school together, okay?"

Whenever Madoka looked at her like that, with such naïve, innocent eyes, Homura could almost feel normal again. "Of course," she said gently. She'd already cursed Madoka, tearing her apart from her divinity, from her wish. But she didn't remember. Instead, she seemed drawn to Homura, and Homura couldn't push her away. As long as this world held together, Madoka was just a normal girl.

As Homura and Madoka walked to school, those doll-like familiars followed, leaving darkness in their wake.

Since her clock had begun to move again, Homura didn't mind paying attention in class now, as these lessons were actually new to her. Yet even so, she lately found it difficult to listen to the teachers' words. She hadn't slept well, uncertain if she was dreaming or not. Whenever she blinked, the classroom seemed to distort, but then after a flash of darkness, everything appeared normal again. It was as if one eye saw the truth and the other saw the world she desired.

As she tapped her fingers on her desk, trying to pay attention to the lesson, one of those cursed dolls climbed onto her desk, and no one else paid it any mind. The doll wore a tattered black dress and its hair was ruined while its left eye was cracked. It jeered at Homura, revealing jagged teeth, but she tried to ignore it.

Are you happy? it asked, but nobody else heard its distorted voice.

Homura gave the doll a glare, but said nothing. It wouldn't do to disturb her classmates and teacher over something so trivial, she told herself.

But that cursed familiar wasn't deterred. You're a curse, and you'll curse her too, because—

"Shut up," Homura muttered, low enough that her classmates wouldn't hear.

Broken, the doll spat. Pathetic. Lonely. Selfish. Nothing. Nothingnothingnothingnothingnothing—

Homura stood and slammed her hands on her desk, startling her classmates and teacher, but still the doll's voice multiplied into countless voices, echoing all around her. She dashed out of the classroom, and the world began to fall apart. Pieces crumbled, revealing only that absolute darkness, and the distorted voices followed her as she ran.

Brokenbrokenbrokenbrokenbroken—

She climbed countless stairs, dark fire erupting like the collapse of her witch's labyrinth inside her Soul Gem. She could feel broken wings piercing from her back, and black feathers rained down upon her. This was her world. This was the world she had created for her beloved Madoka. But a world born from a curse could never be anything but corrupted.

Finally she reached the top of the stairs, and above were pieces of glass put together like a broken snow globe. The pieces fit poorly and between the cracks shadows gathered, as if trying to break free. She tore her burning earring from her ear and threw it to the ground, but still it didn't break. The orb glowed a dark violet, engulfing her in fire, and when the fire faded, she stood once more in the form of the devil. She spread her broken wings, but where could she fly?

"Homura-chan."

The devil known as "Akemi Homura" turned, and behind stood Madoka. She looked the same as ever, in the same school uniform and white thigh-highs and red ribbons in her hair, but her eyes had flashed gold. Homura could only let out a dark laugh. The darkness always longed for the light, she knew. "Welcome to my world," she said, and as she approached Madoka, black feathers fell from her wings.

Madoka took a careful step forward, firmly and without hesitation. "You can't keep doing this."

Dark lightning flashed across the cracked glass sky. "I won't let this world fall," Homura said. Her back ached from the weight of her wings, and the pain was almost unbearable. "I promised you I would never let you go again."

"But you can't keep taking all these curses onto yourself!" Madoka cried, her gold eyes watering. "Your magic is too corrupted! I can save—!"

"No!" Homura screamed as she seized Madoka's shoulders, and all around them broken dolls danced and laughed. "I created this world for you! I won't let you go away again!"

"Homura-chan." Madoka raised a shaking hand to touch Homura's cheek, and specks of pink were scattered in the gold of her eyes. "If you stay here, there won't be anything left of your soul to save."

"I don't care!" The sky trembled as Homura threw her arms around Madoka, and burning tears fell from her eyes. "Just stay with me, please. Let me protect you. That's all I ever wished for…"

"But Homura-chan—"

Before Madoka could utter those last words, Homura's lips silenced her, and her lips were just as soft and sweet as Homura remembered. Even if her soul vanished, even if she fell into the deepest reaches of hell, she loved Madoka too much to ever let her go again. As long as she could protect Madoka, she would have no regrets.

When Homura took her lips from Madoka's, a clear blue sky hung above, and on the school rooftop stood two girls in uniform. Madoka's eyes were that warm shade of pink Homura loved so much, and a soft smile came upon her lips. "Are you happy, Homura-chan?" she asked.

"Yes," Homura answered, and as tears rolled down her cheeks, Madoka pulled her into a tight embrace.