Chapter Text
There were times when I was weak, and when I wondered if traveling through time was even worth it in the bitter end. Was my pain truly so worthless compared to the faint chance that I could prevent Madoka from contracting? Some part of me felt like it was just that. Worthless. The end wouldn’t matter anyway.
When I first started this decades-long loop, hope blossomed in my chest like it was the beginning of spring. I had reverted the universal constant of time, and now I was a true Magical Girl! My power changed everything, I could change everything. My buckler was the one weapon that could sort out fate and make destiny sway.
I could save my dear mentor Mami from her cruel, cruel fate. I could be there for her, be the pillar of support she relies on! Madoka, my best friend, I could save her from the death that awaited her when Walpurgisnacht came. Together, all three of us could save Mitakihara and live happily ever after!
Sayaka, Madoka’s childhood friend, would end up joining us too. She was a really good person, with strong ideals, and a sense of justice that wouldn’t compromise for anything. Kyoko, despite the rough first meeting, was a loyal and compassionate girl, someone who would fight for those she loved.
We formed the Holy Quintet, Mitakihara’s Magical Girl Team. Me, a time traveler. Madoka, the heart of our group. Mami, the leader and a veteran. Kyoko, a close quarters veteran. And Sayaka, the paladin that both healed and brought retribution. We could do this. We could win!
That’s what I thought.
Then, we learnt the truth about where the Witches came from. Mami broke before my eyes, Sayaka had died before that, but her death hadn’t been as heart breaking as what came next. Mami killed Kyoko. And Madoka killed Mami, before she could kill me. The betrayal was something that burned me bone deep.
When Walpurgisnacht came, we were forced to sacrifice ourselves to stop it from destroying Mitakihara. The world was supposed to grant us our happy ending, but no. It left me and her in a puddle of our own failure and tears. The request to destroy the world, the Grief Seed that was once Sayaka’s, and the deed that came after.
Why was our ending so cruel and bitter and unhappy? I rewound time, and I rewound it again. Over, and over, and over, and over. A spiral that I kept at bay only because my love for Madoka and hundreds of Grief Seeds overwhelmed my despair. The question of why we had to suffer was one I asked thousands of times, until it was background noise.
Something happened over the loops, I believe it was because of temporal fractures or just slight variations happening to the timeline, but they started to believe me less and less. Each little hint of doubt and rejection hurt, hurt more than they could ever understand.
Sayaka was a bit more hostile. Less trusting. She didn’t call me Homu-chan anymore, just “transfer student”. My friend whose ideals of righteousness was the first to become my enemy. What did that say about me? I didn’t dwell on that long, I didn’t like thinking about our relationship after the thirteenth loop.
Mami, because of that damn rat Kyubey, no longer held the same belief in me as she did in the earliest timelines. Always doubting me, thinking I didn’t want others to contract because it meant less resources for me. I wanted my mentor back. I hated how the Incubator came before us.
Kyoko became harder to convince over the course of my two hundred loops. Before, it only took Mami to bring her to our side. Then it started taking free meals. Then I had a roommate. Then I had to steal more because she demanded more. Then, Kyoko just didn’t believe me anymore. I was alone. My most reliable ally? Gone like that.
Madoka. Oh, Madoka.
Her smiles became less frequent around me, she stopped trying to be my friend after the hundredth twentieth loop. I stopped trying long before that, but it hurt. It hurt so damn much. I don’t think she liked me after that timeline, she looked at me with cold eyes. And that hurt more than anything.
More than being impaled by the Spear Witch, more than losing an arm from the Sweets Witch, more than watching Mami lose her life at Charlotte’s hand again. Kirika tearing my head off was less painful. Oriko turning me into cheese was less painful. Even Mami, Sayaka, and Kyoko slashing, tearing, and slicing me apart hurt less than that.
It was on the hundredth fiftieth loop that I started to consider just giving up. To put down my Soul Gem, shatter it, and move on. Maybe even just run away, go to Hawaii? I could live for a long, long time. Maybe centuries if Oriko’s words were truthful. Would it even matter? What was I even fighting for anyways?
My best friend, the love of my life, stopped caring about me. It was clear how dismissive she was. Mami and Sayaka were attempting to assassinate me most of the time. My most reliable ally, Kyoko, only helped me every one in eight timelines. Was it worth it anymore? To continue this cycle of pain?
It didn’t matter.
I had to continue. I just had to. If I stopped, then what would that mean for my pain and efforts? Over two decades of continuous attempts would be completely, utterly, and absolutely worthless. That I spent twenty four years trying to save a girl who stopped caring, and that it was all for nothing in the end.
I hated it. I hated, hated, and hated it all. As the bright, pink light filled the skies, I could only watch as Madoka, whose potential could rewrite the fabric of reality and erase the concept of entropy forever, I realized something. Watching her arrow come down like divine judgement upon Walpurgisnacht, rending it to ashes.
“It just doesn’t matter anymore.”
The Incubator turned its red gaze on me, tilting its head in a way most girls would find cute. I found it disturbingly calculated. It waited for me to speak, so I elaborated.
Twenty four years, Kyubey. Two hundred timelines. Just trying the same thing over and over again. I hate it. I’ve spent decades doing the same thing. Is that insanity?”
Yes, Homura Akemi. When you attempt the same action numerous times, expecting different results each experience, that is considered insanity by mankind. That is your secret, then? You are a time traveler. You revert the timeline to change something. No wonder Madoka has the potential of what could only be called a God. It was always-
“-considered a theory that time travel could exponentially increase karmic potential. Yet, you kept it on a shelf for a long, long time because of how unfeasible it was. The amount of variables needed to be calculated was too many. You only imposed it on me because you calculated I, all of the time, would choose to anchor timelines to her.”
It had repeated this tens of times before when it realized what I was. Kyubey hopped on my shoulder. I didn’t kill it.
Very well. What will you be doing then, Homura Akemi? Repeating this timeline again? Insanity, remember?
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. Did I even want to repeat the same forty five days once more? Watching Madoka turn into a Witch that rivaled entire continents, laying waste to billions of lives, a worldly calamity unlike any other. Some part of me whispered.
Was Oriko right?
The moment that thought passed, I flinched violently. Enough that even Kyubey took a curious second look at me. I ignored it. How could I even agree with Oriko? She killed tens of thousands at her worst. Yet, another, quieter part of me was hesitant to call her wrong.
My buckler waited for me to reset time once more. To revert the temporal river to a state prior. It was a pain to do everything over again. Crying would make me feel better. Had made me feel better in the early timelines. But even the seas run out of tears at some point.
With a frustrated look, I slammed the reset on my buckler. The hourglass cracked, but who cared? Maybe this time I won’t go back, maybe I’ll finally rest for once in my damn life.
Ha.
As if.
One of the universal constants, like time and gravity, was that Akemi Homura could never rest.
／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼
March 16th, the 201st.
I raised my head to the same ceiling once more. The sterile, white tiles looked down at me like I was worthless. I agreed. How worthless could I be in this timeline then? Oh, well. My head felt like it was splitting at the seams, but I forced it down for the moment. No point in thinking about that anymore.
The same calendar met my- wait, what. Who the fuck was that!? In the corner of my room, blocking the same calendar I see every time I awake is an older man. He looked somewhat like me, with the same jaw and colored hair. Dressed in a suit I knew was worth millions, the only thing that came out my mouth was-
“Papa?”
No. No. No. What the fuck. What the.
This can’t be happening, why was the variation so much different? Usually it was small, subtle things. This was not subtle. Not at all. Was this punishment for cracking the shield, for destabilising the rift of time? If so, then I apologize. If not, then I want a refund, Incubator. Why was my buckler so fragile? How was I to make battle with this?
My “papa” opened his eyes to reveal piercing irises the same color as mine. He looked at me with concern and joy, it was heartwarming. It felt like some part of me thawed out right at that moment. The same feeling I had with Madoka, but less romantic, and more in the warmth of the matter.
I couldn’t react in time, because of my surprise and shock, before he held me in a tight embrace. Murmuring prayers to a God that I knew didn’t exist. If God did exist, then why were the Incubators allowed to roam around? At least, if He didn’t exist then I could pretend to understand why no miracle was bestowed upon me.
Closing my eyes, I let myself melt into the warmth of the embrace. A hiccup escaped me, and then the tears started flowing. I wanted to stop myself, to distance myself from this man I called papa. Yet, after two decades of continuous failings, I was just tired. So, damn, tired.
I hugged him back.
Tears streaked down my face like a fountain. After tens of thousands of days of insanity, I didn’t want to be strong anymore. I didn’t want to be a pillar of might against Walpurgisnacht. I wanted to be weak, just for this small moment. To remind myself how it used to be.
I wanted to dream, I wanted to remember, I wanted to hope. So many things I wanted yet could never have. I wanted Madoka to be friends with me, I wanted her to hug me close. I wanted Mami to be my mentor, I wanted her to bake me a cake. I wanted Sayaka to be my friend, to hear her invite me to hang around with her and Hitomi. I wanted Kyoko to be my closest ally again, I wanted her to bug me to go to the arcade again.
I just wanted my friends back.
And that was what left me broken at that moment, but not in despair or grief. Just warmth and the feeling of being weak. I cried, wailing into a familiar stranger’s luxury suit with the hope that one day I could find my way back to the Holy Quintet. My heart shattered- no, it’s long been shattered, that I don’t doubt.
The only thing left of Akemi Homura, the one who wore glasses and smiled awkwardly, was her body. And the only thing left of Akemi Homura, the time traveler girl in love, was her sheer will keeping a broken, bitter soul together because no one else would. And no one else will.
My papa held for what felt like hours. For the first time in a long, long time, I didn’t feel so alone.
／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼
March 17th, the 201st. And I haven’t quite gotten out of the hospital yet. No, I hadn’t. My Soul Gem was there, and I made sure to repair my eyesight and heart with the efficiency of a campfire providing warmth and light. Though, my papa- or Hiroshi, as the nurses and some other suited men called him- was still worried.
I can’t lie, it felt nice to be cared for after so long. Being independent was something I had come to terms with. Being alone was something I knew I had to be. The last time I ever had a remotely positive relationship with someone was Oriko and Kirika, but that was after they killed Madoka. Timeline a hundred ninety four was something different.
Regardless, I had to take some time to gather my thoughts. Maybe, just for this timeline and this timeline only, I’ll stop. I’ll take a break and whip out my plans for after Walpurgisnacht. I had made it in loop three, but stopped adding to it after loop fifty eight. I could spend time just doing what I want.
Avoid Madoka, and her coldness. Avoid Mami, and her distrust. Avoid Sayaka, and her hostility. Avoid Kyoko, and her unreliability. Avoid the Incubator too. I’ll have to stock up on my Grief Seeds, though. Taking a nice, long vacation to Hawaii with Hiroshi and Rei- my mama, as I learned- would be amazing.
With a quiet exhale of oxygen, I let light wash over me, and completed the transformation. My costume had become a bit more like a suit, but I liked how it looked after so long of seeing the same thing.
Alright, time for a witch hunt.
／人◕ ‿‿ ◕人＼
What.
Where are all of the Witches?