( sayaka had slept in this morning. not a lot, not, you know, dangerously, but she'd been up late because she's starting to forget what sleeping on time is, and her mother had apparently peeked in and decided to do sayaka a favour, making her lunch for her to give her a few extra minutes of rest.
and she's grateful, really, she is, but sayaka has been making her own lunches since she was twelve (it's the principle, you know?), and anyway, her mom isn't a bad cook but they have pretty different tastes in food. she's hungry, so she eats the egg salad anyway, putting the crusts down to the side to be discarded later.
(she hates eating alone.) where is everyone today? she likes the days they all eat together the best — of course, that can't happen all the time, but since hitomi and kyosuke have started dating, she can't fall back on them, and the others have things too…
she grits her teeth and opens her can of orange juice with determination, throwing that train of thought balled up into a corner. with probably more flourish than is needed, she takes a long drink. )
[ As soon as Sayaka's eyes are closed, focused intently on her drink, a pair of hands clasp her shoulders from behind, push down like someone is trying to lift themselves up, leaning over her to make her teeter between falling back or falling forward from where she sits.
Who else would it be? Kyoko expects to see everyone else make their appearances, too, hasn't heard of any special lunch dates happening, decides to use Sayaka as leverage to catch sight of them. There's no one in the distance. Her feet hit the ground again and she sighs, like that whole thing was a disappointment. ]
Hey, this isn't some new loner persona, is it? [ Of all people to be concerned about that. ] You're really eating by yourself?
( she makes a sound, half eep and half yah!, very nearly spilling her drink all over herself as she's shoved forward. she scrambles not to drop it, pushing herself back up and elbowing wildly at the space behind her, hoping to catch kyoko in the gut. )
I could ask you the same question! ( she retorts, all worries forgotten as she sits back up, carefully slamming her can of juice down beside her. ) You're late! Lunch started ten minutes ago!
[ An elbow eventually lands against her side and she makes an unnecessarily indignant noise. It doesn't hurt, obviously, but Sayaka has to know what she's done. With all the maturity she can muster, she doesn't start up some fight, just gives another shove and takes a snack out of her pocket. It's some chocolate mess that's terrible for lunch and normal for her. ]
Obviously, 'cause I was looking for you. You're always running off like some kid. [ And Kyoko will usually chase after, but her treat was more important this time.
She moves to sit in the spot next to Sayaka, the one that's taken up by her leftovers, and frowns at them like they're some offense. ] What's this, seconds?
( who is calling who a kid, now? she's all ready to be very indignant at that — it's amazing how much ones maturity increases when you have someone like kyoko around to be better than — but is momentarily distracted by kyoko sitting down and eyeing her sandwich crusts.
even though she honestly has no desire or plan to eat them, she knows how kyoko is about food (weird. that's how she is.), so she sighs inwardly and straightens her back. ) That's right. I was thirsty. They're not going to waste!
[ She nods, of course, why would Sayaka waste perfectly good food? They're apparently pretty appetizing, too, because she lifts a piece of crust to stuff in her mouth, then motions for Sayaka to take the rest. ]
What kinda person saves the crusts for after? [ Not that she's complaining. ]
( what kind of person eats them at all? but it's too late to back off now, so she picks one up and nibbles at it daintily without much appetite. suddenly, she sighs. ) Seriously! Where is everyone!
( the sounds of the city all blur together from this height, an incoherent rush of wind and engines and far away music. the rooftop isn't intended for visits, a low wall surrounding a field of gravel and air vents, and sayaka picks her way across on top of the wall, because she can, because she will not fall, because even if she would she wouldn't be hurt. her hair, skirt, whips in the wind, but her balance is perfect and the cans in her arms, held tight to her chest, bead with cold moisture.
(what is she doing?) she doesn't give herself pause for self reflection, because then she might regret it. turn and run, leap right off the roof. she ought to just stay far away from homura, but it's like a bruise or a missing tooth, and she keeps getting drawn back, prodding despite the discomfort and distaste, able to find her even though she wishes she was harder to find.
she doesn't know if homura can hear her approach; she calls out a short distance away, walking one foot in front of the other as though on a balance beam, ) I brought coffee. ( and not a sword. )
( there was a time where homura cared for sayaka miki-
perhaps it was because she was friends with madoka, or perhaps because the two were similar in some ways long ago. they were both naive, and they both had made their wish in hopes of saving someone else.
with each and every timeline, almost the exact same fate consumed the other. she would wish for that boy to be saved, her heart would get broken, and it would end in death.
homura did try and save her from herself on many occasions, but as always the other struck back with vile hate and suspicion. by the time homura witnessed the same ending for the other more than once, she had given up hope on her.
that wasn't to say she didn't try and plant little seeds of hope here and there. she just wasn't very successful and it took away time that could have been used to save madoka.
when sayaka approached homura, she had been on top of building, watching the world unravel before her eyes. to anyone else it might have seemed as if she was planning on jumping, but she wasn't. although she had thought about it once or twice....but she wasn't selfish in that sense.
when the sound of footsteps grew louder, homura did not turn, she simply looked up and spoke. )
I appreciate the gesture.
( as the wind lifted her long hair up and gently dragged it across her face, she remained absolutely still, waiting for the next move. )
( she halts her progress and hops down from the ridge, landing lightly atop the gravel. for a moment she doesn't move any closer; for a moment, she wants to rush closer, place both hands against homura's back and push, send her wheeling and toppling through the night sky, but that won't fix this universe, and that isn't the reason she came.
it pulls at her, it twists around in her, focusing on homura's back. sure, they'd never really gotten along, had they? but they'd still been allies, supposedly, and she'd almost let herself hope when that dream world sprung up — that maybe, underneath it all, there was someone worth fighting for —
but now she knows better, and now she has to fight the urge to fight her, rend her apart to try and change things back to the way they ought to be. (she should be a good person, like madoka, but she is not, and that twists and tears at her too.)
finally, sayaka takes the last few steps, sitting on the wall beside homura, facing in — the gravel, the air ducts — instead of out at the night.
she doesn't say no you don't, but she doesn't do anything else, either. )
They've warmed up a little on the way here. ( she shifts the cans out of her arms and into her hands, left and right. ) I have a milk coffee and a black. ( she traces a finger through the condensation, two diagonal marks, caesura. )
Let me guess, since you're evil, you only drink black?
( perhaps that's how it would end for homura; her death by someone else's hands. maybe then she wouldn't feel about not saving madoka and she could be released from her pain in the most innocent of manners.
multiple timelines suggest that it probably won't happen, though.
homura eventually turned her head towards the other and scoffed a bit at her comment. there was a time where she enjoyed bitter things, but as time went on, she found a rather odd taste for sweeter things. perhaps it was because of madoka. )
( she hands it over, crossing her arm over her body to offer it to her but not otherwise shifting her position, except to tilt her head — not to look upside down at homura, but at the sky. she can't see the moon from this angle, and any stars are obscured by the city lights and clouds. )
You only said that because I said the thing about black coffee.
( homura stepped off the ledge and reached for it, taking it gently. this was one of those rare moments where she recalled what she was liked before, and what the old her would have done. she would have laughed and said 'sayaka-chan, stop teasing me.' that girl was long dead and many lifetimes away.
so instead homura remained silent and still. she was like this for a good while until the sound of an opening can disrupted the silence. )
No....I find that black coffee stains your teeth.
( that's all she could say about that.
as she took a light sip of the drink, her eyes turned towards the sky again and she wondered what exactly sayaka was trying to accomplish here. she couldn't be saved, and she often times didn't want to be. perhaps she was here for another reason....homura needed to figure it out. )
( she's silent, too, not responding to homura's comment on her teeth, even to remark how strange it is. she doesn't move, looking up at the sky, holding her unopened can in her hands on her lap. her neck begins to hurt. (it doesn't have to hurt if you don't want it to.)
she turns her head at last to look at homura, her expression almost — just about — neutral, except for the tightness around her eyes, a slight pursing of her mouth. things to do tonight? oh, yes, thousands. she could do homework, she could play games, meet with kyoko, meet with madoka, meet with anyone she likes. she can talk to her parents, she can text hitomi, she can find something to fight or break and break it, snap it into pieces and feel none of the backlash at all. she can't find the moon, but she knows it hangs unnaturally in the sky; everything does now. she could do those things, but she shouldn't be here to do them. )
Maybe this is the thing I have to do tonight. ( she says loudly, with a thin thread of bluster; what are you gonna do about it? she lowers her head, looks ahead and away, swings her legs out and hits her heels against the wall. )
( she placed the can aside and then she held her gaze upon sayaka's for a while. soon her eyes scanned the area around them, and she found herself truly calm for the first time in the longest.
it was as if the world they inhabited was a joyous and happy one instead of one stained in blood and sadness. )
Well it's certainly different from all your other nights.
( this was very new. even when there was a time they got along, they were never alone with each other, at least not for this long. also they had never really spoken much outside of her trying to convince the other that there was danger in trusting in kyuubey.
her eyes soon drifted up towards the sky and she spoke again. )
Is this how you wish to spend your night? At my side, drinking coffee?
Are you kidding me? No way. ( she says, rather unthinkingly, because it's true and she's a little surprised she has to say it. she doesn't apologise after, although she does fall silent, realising that that might have been somewhat thoughtless, that she should explain, that she has no idea how.
there had been a time, brief, not long ago, where she had cared for homura. had had sympathy. after all, sayaka had once also been a witch. but… well, but. but then, she'd ruined everything, torn it and twisted it, and she can't and won't forgive that, and will never like her, not even for a second. and yet — it's up to her, somehow, isn't it? to, to fix things, to find a way, to do what madoka would do (but she can't, and she won't, because she is not that good of a person!), and between 'fight homura to the death' and 'avoid her forever' there has to be a third choice somewhere.
she cracks open her can of coffee and takes a gulp, the bitter taste causing her to wince. )
But Sayaka-chan has decided to visit with you anyway! ( she says, bluster again, because it's easier and better to hide behind a wall of good cheer. ) After all, we're similar now.
( there is nothing more to say. she knew what her answer would be, but still decided to ask, just to ask. what she got was what she deserved, and homura didn't have much else to say.
as they both fell silent, she thought about what would happen tomorrow. sometimes the continuum surprised her; the day would be considerably different than before, but the next day would fall right back into place. usually the same thing happened; occasionally an outside power would vary homura's day and that sometimes caught her by surprise. it was those little things that still filled her with hope.
the sound of the coffee opening brought her back, and she soon turned towards sayaka. as much as she wanted to keep this little gathering peaceful, she couldn't help but find herself slightly annoyed with that suggestion. 'we're similar now.'
she couldn't be more wrong. )
Sayaka-san, we have a few similarities.....
( she took a turn towards the other, her hair lifting up in the movement, and she closed in on her.
with her eyes narrowed and her mouth slightly twisted, she spoke once more. )
( she presses her tongue against the sharp edges of her teeth, pressing her fingers into the can until she feels it begin to dimple. what is her problem? can't she see, doesn't she understand? it's taking every bit of restraint sayaka has, to keep from yelling, to keep her emotions from bursting out — cold, not warm, and she hates homura like this, all cold and better than. she's not. she never will be. she can't.
there's a waver to her voice, still loud, less strong; her smile up at homura is tight but she still tries to play it as a joke because the other alternative is to veer it into something sharp and cold. )
( she might have seen her as that, pretentious, cold, calculating. the reality was that homura saw herself as an intruder, an outsider.
in order to protect those around her, she had to distance herself from them all and become the mature one. it was a terrible burden, and in a way, she felt as if nobody could understand her. nobody would ever, so it was best to keep herself distant. previous timelines taught her that when she tried to open up, she was met with the cold hand of ignorance and disgust.
so now she remained silent, taking in the other's reaction. it was surprisingly positive, and for that she would reward her with a simple nod. )
I suppose that's the way it is. The way it will always be.
( in a way, it'd be easier if homura had argued. she doesn't know what to say; she can't continue the joke if she agrees, because she fundamentally can't understand. why would she say that so openly? why would anyone? she can't look at her anymore, swinging her gaze back to her warming coffee. )
( well that certainly was new. like it was mentioned, it was these little things that took homura by surprise.
she had expected her to become red at the face, huff and puff, and retaliate at her. instead she simply offered what was in a way, a solution.
homura turned her back towards her, and placed her arms behind her. she was a professional when it came to masking and hiding her true emotions, but for once she felt like saying what she felt.
she didn't. instead she looked up at the sky and spoke the truth. )
Sayaka, it does not matter where we are, what time it is, or what has happened. I will always be this way. There is no changing what is written and set in stone.
I'd advise you not to try and change things, for your own good.
Or what? ( she says, a little more heat in her voice, ) I'll vanish, or die?
( it's not like that hasn't happened before. it's not like she doesn't expect that to happen again. no matter how many thousands of things she could be doing instead of sitting on this rooftop, the fact is that none of this is right. this world, this fake, stupid world, it tears at her, peels at her in tiny ways, and how can anyone suggest she not fight it? fight for what's right? (fight for madoka?)
she doesn't spring to her feet, but her entire body is tense, her can denting with a soft noise. ) Or are you saying you'll kill me if I try?
( there was a sudden awkwardness plunging the space between them. homura wasn't sure if she should indulge the other and flat out say 'yes' or just bide her time.
not that she missed the way it was before, simply that she didn't want to argue much with the other.
what had to be done, had to be done still. so she slowly turned again and looked down at sayaki.
in a soft and almost godly voice, she spoke again. )
It is not in my nature to kill beings who have not brought it upon themselves to be killed.
However I am not opposed to ending your life if I needed to.
( for less than a second, she wants to say then go ahead and end this world, make it a challenge, give it a bite — but she pushes it back, her shoulders pulling up and in, keeping the words from coming out. no, that's not what she's here for.
she can't sit still anymore, she jumps to her feet, placing the can on the ledge and leaping forward, past homura, sure-footed on the gravel, turning and swinging back around. be like madoka. be good, but it still comes out as an angry accusation; itching for a fight. ) We used to be a team. ( not friends, never friends, but she'd trusted homura to watch her back in a fight, and she'd fought as hard as she could to save her in the dream, and that's something, right? she keeps her fists clenched tight, she twists back around, away from homura, anxious and taut. )
You really think you're that much better than me? ( than everyone else? it's that cold arrogance, that apathy, that she really can't stand. )
That's bull! ( she's so surprised that it just slips out, the phrasing unconsciously lifted from kyoko, because her own words are not strong enough right now; if that was true, they wouldn't be here. here wouldn't even be a thing. isn't that right?
she remains turned away, but continues after a moment. ) There's no way… but … ( be good. be nice. be kind. ) Okay. If you do think that, then… ( all these little pauses, these little breaks to breath and force out the words; she knows what she came here to do but it's so hard. ) okay… that's a first step.
( homura could automatically sense that those words were kyoko's influence upon the girl. that didn't mean they stung any less.
homura walked closer to sayaka, watching as her back curved in a bit and how her hair looked in against the night sky. she would not kill her unless it was asked for, and even then she would still consider madoka's feelings about all of this.
for that was the main reason these two were even speaking to each other. )
I do believe that I know more than you when it comes to certain things. That is all I have over you.
( she takes in a big breath, her shoulders rising and falling like waves. ) I know something that you don't know, too. ( that she's right. not just correct, but right, that the truth is this world needs to end and until it does, until that moment, until homura finally understands it too — well, that's why she's here, isn't it? )
But… ( she forces her fingers to unclench. ) I didn't come here to fight today.
( she flinches, straightens her back, at homura's correct assumptions; growing stiff and lifting her chin, groping towards defiance, no-way melding with so-what-if-you-are? she can't help but lean back slightly when homura gets too close, but she squares her shoulder and forces herself to use the few centimetres she has over her to her advantage; she's physically the stronger, she tells herself. )
I'm not afraid of anything you could do to me. ( she says, straightening again, shifting herself slightly towards homura, widening your stance. ) Even if you killed me, I'm already supposed to be dead. Even if you made me forget, I'd remember. There's nothing you can do to make me change my mind! ( the bluster, the threat, whatever it may be — the funny part about saying things, sayaka has found, is that it becomes easier to do them once they're said, the act of speaking closing off roads to doubt or hesitation. )
( the stairs go down, not up, like drill-bits driving into the earth, a series of dark holes scattered haphazardly in the empty room of the labyrinth; deep and dark and exuding their own pressing force. with more passages than there are people, they split up. sayaka goes down the first, the closest, lead by example (not that she's — ahaha! no, obviously!).
takes the first few turns at a run, trying to balance speed and balance, then slows, looking down into the blackness and up into the whiteness, shifting her head, closing one eye and then another — above her is pure white, below her is pure black, and try as she might she can't spot the horizon; she shakes her head and decides it's an optical illusion; takes the next few turns (when will this end?) at a run and — it reverses, and now she's heading up, up into the black, but when did it switch around? did it switch? she turns on her step (static, lightheadedness, her vision darkening in the corners; then clearing, her ears ringing) and gives a startled cry, despite herself, when she touches the railing and sticks to it, the ice of the metal reaching through her glove, the white cloth turning grey and brown from rot.
she yanks her hand away with a startled — it gives easily — and the excessive force sends her stumbling backwards, tripping and almost tumbling down; she lands hard on her bottom (it sticks, she sticks, like everything has been coated in something sticky and spilt, something filmy like hairspray and dark like mould) and finds herself breathing hard, calm down, sayaka, jeez, it's nothing, be better than this, you have to be; everything is white now, and she doesn't know which way she's come or gone. the stairs she's sitting on are the same as the stairs below her and the stairs she just came down; the bottoms of the stairs she sees above her look just like the tops; she has the sudden, certain idea that she fell to the ceiling, that if she lets go she'll fly up and up and up and up, to the floor.
stand up, she tells herself. (but she'll fall/fly.) ) Stand up! ( she orders herself, this time aloud, the word echoing thinly in the endless white space — twisting and bouncing off of nothing until it comes back. maybe it's her mind twisting on itself, maybe there is another sound, but she does stand, her cape soiled from contact, twisting around to the stairs behind (above) her. ) Who's there?
( the labyrinth of invisibility and insanity capture those who have a history of self-martyrdom. this particular one was not set to capture sayaka personally, but that it happened to, was a treat for the demon. corridors and stairs that twist and turn, cycling into each other were the deal. anyone who got trapped would stay trapped unless homura personally choose to liberate them. would she liberate the magical girl from this torture? not yet, not until she's had her twisted fun.
as the sound of crashing fills the void, homura finds herself melting into the stairs, following after the girl. she is everywhere, filling the space of the void, and the void filling the space within her. her purple eyes glare, almost piercingly into the blue-haired girl, and they observe everything. her eyes, the way her hair bounces in the air, and the way she falls on her behind. she can't say she's too obsessed with her, but they share something deep-
they were both witches.
when sayaka screams at herself to stand up, homura transmutates into a physical matter. she's still hidden, cut up along the dotted lines, turned inside out. on the edge of the labyrinth, she takes a step, finally revealing herself to the other. she is [thankfully] alone. )
It's you walking home all alone. The sounds of your feet pitter-patting against the cement floor. Echo across echo, all alone.
( when a glimmer of light beckoned across homura's face, she tilted her head back and gave a somber glance. this girl, did she retain her memories as a witch? homura didn't feel like prying into her just yet. )
You're still the same, getting sucked into things you don't belong in.
( she stands up, not due to willpower or resolve but in reaction to the voice, something pushing her from behind into action; she overbalances, forgetting where she is, sure she's about to fall, but her feet remain underneath her even as her vision smears grey and her heart pounds; she sucks in a breath and turns in the direction of the
(threat) — no, it's homura's voice. something thrums in the back of her mind, warning of danger and darkness; does that make sense? it's just homura. hard to trust, prickly homura, yes; sayaka'd be lying if she said she liked her, but they're teammates. allies. (but. but.) (something moving in the back of her mind, seeping like the film on the metal beneath her feet.) she moves her hand as if to hold the railing and thinks better of it, hesitates, her hand extended, and curls her fingers into a fist. looking up at homura. (something seeping in the corner of her memory.) )
What are you talking about? ( harsh from surprise. hold on, she thinks, and frowns.
there's nothing here to hold on to. ) What are you doing here? We all split up… ( up top, she is going to say, but which direction was that again? homura was there, wasn't she? yes, they were all looking… all of them, right? overcome with a sudden doubt, she trails off, sets her jaw and straightens her back. ) We split up to look for the witch. ( with more conviction, conviction that is only bluster. )
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and she's grateful, really, she is, but sayaka has been making her own lunches since she was twelve (it's the principle, you know?), and anyway, her mom isn't a bad cook but they have pretty different tastes in food. she's hungry, so she eats the egg salad anyway, putting the crusts down to the side to be discarded later.
(she hates eating alone.) where is everyone today? she likes the days they all eat together the best — of course, that can't happen all the time, but since hitomi and kyosuke have started dating, she can't fall back on them, and the others have things too…
she grits her teeth and opens her can of orange juice with determination, throwing that train of thought balled up into a corner. with probably more flourish than is needed, she takes a long drink. )
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Who else would it be? Kyoko expects to see everyone else make their appearances, too, hasn't heard of any special lunch dates happening, decides to use Sayaka as leverage to catch sight of them. There's no one in the distance. Her feet hit the ground again and she sighs, like that whole thing was a disappointment. ]
Hey, this isn't some new loner persona, is it? [ Of all people to be concerned about that. ] You're really eating by yourself?
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I could ask you the same question! ( she retorts, all worries forgotten as she sits back up, carefully slamming her can of juice down beside her. ) You're late! Lunch started ten minutes ago!
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Obviously, 'cause I was looking for you. You're always running off like some kid. [ And Kyoko will usually chase after, but her treat was more important this time.
She moves to sit in the spot next to Sayaka, the one that's taken up by her leftovers, and frowns at them like they're some offense. ] What's this, seconds?
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even though she honestly has no desire or plan to eat them, she knows how kyoko is about food (weird. that's how she is.), so she sighs inwardly and straightens her back. ) That's right. I was thirsty. They're not going to waste!
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What kinda person saves the crusts for after? [ Not that she's complaining. ]
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