[A/n] Written for the Twelve Shots of Summer challenge, which also happens to be filled with ridiculously talented authors and a range of spectacular one shots. If this sounds like your kind of thing, you should check it out - we'd be delighted to have you :)
In the meantime, have this one-shot. For something that's supposed to be written for the 'Tea Party' prompt, this definitely went in an unexpected direction.
Tea Parties, Time Loops, and Fate
1.
At first, Homura regarded the magical girls with an awestruck wonder. Madoka and Mami flew through battle gracefully, scarcely touching the ground as they evaded the witches' attacks like winged angels with the mission to vanquish evil. They were invincible, surely - Mami, the friendly veteran who left countless bullets in her wake and exuded golden elegance, and Madoka, the talented rookie whose arrows struck true, would defeat Walpurgisnacht and save the city.
As soon as she met Madoka, Homura liked her immediately - she's impossibly kind-hearted and amiable, and she...well, Madoka is her first true friend. Homura feels privileged to share in their discussions, to be part of their lives. She's so...ordinary, she thinks, so shy and awkward compared to them, that her presence in such a spectacular setting is an anomaly. She has stepped into a fairytale and finally found a place where she belongs despite the obvious fact that she doesn't.
Mami seems to have a particular fondness for tea parties, and the three of them sit near the glassy windows of Mami's apartment, enjoying the spectacular view, and talk. She wouldn't give this up for anything, Homura decides, as she savors the warmth of their camaraderie and the teacup in her hand. Mami often jokes that this is the perfect way to prepare for battle, since there's nothing nearly as calming as a good tea party.
"This is it," Mami says one day, with a tone of finality hovering in her voice. Kyuubey, the adorable white fluffy creature that had allowed Mami and Madoka to become magical girls in exchange for making a wish, sits beside Mami and lazily licks his paws. The dazzling sun plays brightly on the lines of the table, reflecting off the liquid in Homura's teacup.
Madoka turns to Homura and smiles, excited but not nervous. "Walpurgisnacht is tomorrow!" she says. "It's going to be tough! It's the biggest witch we've ever faced."
"I think you're ready, Madoka," Homura says timidly. "You and Mami have been preparing for so long."
"Of course we can do it," Madoka says brightly, sipping at her tea with cheer. "And then we'll all celebrate with lots of cake, just the three of us. The best tea party ever! We'll put up balloons, and lots and lots of pretty decorations, but the best part will be the cake!"
"As long as it's not fruitcake," Mami says.
"It won't be," Madoka promises. "We'll pick something everyone likes!"
But the next day, Homura knows that they will never have another tea party. That conversation becomes an all-too-distant memory as Homura finds herself staring at Mami, stricken lifeless to the ground by Walpurgisnacht. It can't end this way - it can't - ice runs in her veins, a sudden cold constricting in her chest - aren't the magical girls supposed to win?
This is unreal, and abject horror mushrooms violently in her heart. She hadn't known that she would finally choose to become a magical girl until she saw Madoka, lying dead in a pool of grey-purple water. This time, she had a wish - to be able to change things so that she could protect Madoka, to not be so useless -
2.
This time, Homura had stumbled her way through obstacle courses, fumbled with her shield, blushed profusely at all of these terrible errors, tripped over her own feet while running from the mop that was supposed to be a witch, and, all in all, failed miserably at being a magical girl. It's beyond sub-par, but Homura can't keep a foolish smile off her face – her friends mean everything to her, and she feels untouchable, as if they can defeat any evil together.
"I'm sorry – I'm probably not too useful," she apologizes, clutching her hot cup of tea. "But I'm really glad to have met you guys!" Or, rather, to have re-met them. The afternoon sunlight is warm on her back, the city skyline darkly striking against an orange-gold sky.
She is met with an understanding smile from Mami. "We're ever so glad to have you, Homura," Mami says. "And with a bit of practice, you'll be wonderful."
"Ah, I hope so!" Homura says, remembering Mami's elegance on the battlefield. Being that skilled would take months if not years, she imagines. At least she has a second chance, and she intends to use it.
"Of course!" Madoka smiles, good-natured and sweet. "We've got your back, Homura! You can count on us!"
"Thanks," Homura mumbles gratefully, warmth emanating from her chest. She can't believe that Madoka's alive and real beside her, and her stomach rises with giddiness. "This is an awfully nice tea party you've got here, Mami," she manages, her head still bowed.
"Can't go fighting witches without tea," Mami laughs.
This time it will work, Homura tells herself. After all, they have easily defeated a couple of witches together, and Walpurgisnacht will be no different. This time, she'll be there to protect Mami and Madoka, and she'll make sure that Mami isn't beneath the building that had crushed her, and she'll make Madoka doesn't go off all by herself. No, they're going to stay together, and this time, they'll win.
Only later does she realize how foolish she'd been. Homura gasps as Mami is skewered, her amber soul gem struck to pieces. She can do nothing to help - a terrible feeling roils in her stomach - she's barely defending herself as it is -
And then there is Madoka, her soul gem darkened into oblivion, lying helpless and hopeless beneath a gloomy purple sky.
Homura's muscles are shaking as she watches Madoka's witch form materialize. Homura's thoughts are disoriented, and she feels as if she might scream, as if something within her has broken.
5.
"Hush," Madoka says, "It's all right, Homura, it's all right. I promise. Please don't cry. See, we've gotten so far, and I'll protect you. We'll defeat Walpurgisnacht, and when all this is over we can go back and have a nice tea party, just like old times-"
But all Homura can do is stare bleakly at Walpurgisnacht. It's going to kill her again, isn't it -
6.
These paths have led to nothing but destruction. When she decides to tell them what she has come to know - that while Kyuubey looks like a cute, vaguely alien kitten, he's actually a lying, manipulative bastard of a mascot and one terrible mentor to boot - she is instantly shot down and the group disintegrates from distrust.
She can't tell all of the magical girls at once, Homura says to herself. That's just fertile ground for doubt and miscommunication. And especially not to that Sayaka, who practically thinks she's demon spawn. No, next time she has to confess the truth one-on-one to someone who might trust her, someone who would listen.
When Sayaka falls prey to the demons within her and becomes a witch, the remaining magical girls are too disconcerted and distraught to take on Walpurgisnacht without making costly, fatal errors. Homura's attempts to warn them go unheeded.
Teeth clenched and despair pounding through her soul, Homura surveys her fallen companions and leaps into another time loop.
9.
"Sorry," Homura says. "I just had to talk with someone."
"That's perfectly all right," Mami smiles, extending a steaming cup of tea towards Homura.
"I don't know what to do," Homura confesses, utterly distraught. She's been through at least eight timelines now, and her efforts have been fruitless. Her heartbeat thumps fiercely in her ears. "What would you do if you had a huge secret, and you didn't know whether to tell people or not?"
"Let's see," Mami says mildly, setting her tea down on the glass table. "If telling the secret means hurting someone else, I would keep quiet."
Homura hesitates. Mami has always been the mature, calm one, the magical girl who has her act together and her shots on target. If Homura can just ask for advice without burdening Madoka, and maybe plan a way through this fiasco…
"Tell me, then, and I'll see if I can help you," Mami offers.
Homura tells her everything. She stammers a bit, but she's thorough and takes care not to leave anything out so Mami knows, from the detail of her story, that she isn't lying. Their teas sit, cold and forgotten, on the table.
"Homura," Mami says, as composed as ever, "surely this isn't true."
"It is!" Homura says, desperate to convince Mami that she's telling the truth. Again and again, the rest of the magical girls have withheld their trust and cast her out. If she can just get someone to believe her, she wouldn't feel so isolated. "I swear it! I swear, Mami!"
Mami stares at her, a terrible despair written in her face. And then, she begins sobbing wretchedly.
"So all magical girls are destined to become witches when we fall into despair – we're no better than dead – you mean to tell me our souls have been ripped from our bodies and stuffed into soul gems? just so that we can fight without injury? – by Kyuubey, who kept lying to us – and all of this is pointless – so you're a time traveler and you've been through countless timelines and I die first in every single one? Homura! How could you..." She looks up in stricken anguish, golden eyes suffering.
"No, no, no-" Homura says, panicked, but she can't think of what to do.
"It's all pointless," Mami cries. "It's all so pointless. I die no matter what - and you know, it doesn't even matter -" She gasps for breath, still weeping.
"NO!" Homura screams, reaching to stop Mami's hand as she reaches for her gun. She is too late.
A bang. Homura stares in horror.
A thousand shards of Mami's soul gem fly through the air, brilliant and jagged in the sunlight.
15.
In any timeline that Mami finds out, directly or indirectly, she snaps and someone gets killed.
Sometimes it's Madoka. And Homura won't stand for that.
22.
Sayaka doesn't take this revelation much better.
Stupid girl turns into a witch and usually someone else gets killed. As if it wasn't difficult enough to defeat Walpurgisnacht.
No, Homura is much better off bearing the burden alone.
28.
Homura holds the warm teacup against her palm. "Let's work together," she says evenly. "We have a better chance of defeating witches that way."
"Sure," Mami beams, flattered, as she sips at her tea. "I think that's a great idea."
"I'm glad," Homura says, shaking off the tone of apology in her voice. She needs to practice if she is to sharpen her battle skills. "I think we should also work on improving our speed and accuracy. We do both use similar weapons, after all."
"I'd be delighted," Mami exclaims, delighted at the prospect of a companion to keep her company.
And, over the course of a couple more timelines, Homura's aim with her stolen guns gradually improves until it is nearly perfect. Her skill with the grenades steadily climbs as well. But Madoka keeps dying, and Homura keeps failing. Now she lives with that failure. It laughs at her, sits on her chest at night and taunts her with menacing whispers until she can bear it no longer. But she must.
I will find a way, she thinks, and presses on. There has to be some escape, right?
If she could just save Madoka, this nightmare would be over.
32.
"You can go back in time, right?" Madoka asks weakly, her strength completely gone. She's fighting for the last of her energy as she lies in that accursed grey-purple water, Walpurgisnacht towering above them. "You can go back in time, right?"
Homura nods. Her chest feels as if it is being rent into pieces.
"Go back so we don't end up like this," Madoka pleads faintly. "Save me from being tricked by Kyuubey."
33.
That is when everything changes. From now on, she can't sip tea in comfort with the rest of the magical girls. Homura has a mission: she cannot allow Madoka to contract with Kyuubey and become a magical girl. Maybe that will lead to a timeline where Madoka survives. She sees Mami, Madoka, and Sayaka sitting together in the orange-gold sunlight of the afternoon, and her heart gives a pang.
Time has whittled Homura into a creature of sharp edges: smooth, stoic, and efficient. She is no longer that bumbling girl who tripped over her own feet. Out of desperation, she kills Kyuubey right before he can talk to Madoka, before he can fill her ears with false propaganda to persuade her to become a magical girl.
As if to spite her, the damn alien regenerates, looking all pitiful covered in blood, and now Madoka thinks she's a monster. Homura reaches out to the other magical girls when she can, though -
34.
- once, unable to keep herself away, Homura appears at one of their tea parties. Mami is as demure as ever, Madoka unsure and frightened. But Sayaka stands up and aims her sword directly at Homura's chest.
"What's she doing here?" Sayaka demands. "I don't trust her. You're probably in league with that Kyoko girl." Her words are so familiar that Homura sees them telegraphed in her face. But something about the scenario leaves her breath cold, her mind uncomprehending.
"You're playing dumb, aren't you?" Sayaka says. It isn't a question.
"Sayaka, maybe she doesn't mean to be-" Mami begins, but Sayaka cuts her off. "Are you kidding? Appearing out of nowhere as if she's spying on us? Don't tell me that she's got you convinced she isn't hiding something."
Madoka looks genuinely worried, taking furtive glances at Homura as if she's a potential threat. Which, Homura has to admit, she hasn't done a terrific job of convincing them she isn't. The late afternoon sun cuts through the glass and carves their shadows into the floor.
Homura opens her mouth, but then closes it. Without another word, she stalks away. She can't even begin to fathom what Madoka must think about her.
She has started routinely killing Kyuubey. He won't die - she discovered that a while ago - but it's strangely satisfying, and it momentarily prevents him from nearing Madoka. Each time, he reappears with that same bland, amused smile, and Homura curses under her breath. She hears Mami's cry from several timelines ago echoing in her head - It's all so pointless -
When she sees Sayaka's witch-form, all she can feel is guilt.
40.
Some part of her has faded past caring. Every attempt to reach them has failed miserably. On the rare timeline that they do understand her, she can't save their lives, much less Madoka's.
Or her sanity.
The tea parties don't matter anymore. Homura has no time to sit in a campfire circle singing the joys of friendship.
43.
She has seen them die too many times. She is going insane.
46.
She has lived these conversations, she has walked these streets, she has fought Walpurgisnacht, she has killed that conniving alien, and all of this more times than she cares to count. Every rule of this time frame and every nuance etched in her brain, and it has done her no good. This torturous hell repeated again and again, clawing at her with the knowledge that never, ever has she succeeded - the timelines have begun to blur in her mind, and she has become numbed to their deaths.
She watches with a bleak resignation and leaps into another time loop.
At first it was heart-wrenching each time, but now-
47.
-now it doesn't matter. The other magical girls don't matter anymore. She understands that she has to make sacrifices if she is to save the one thing she holds most dear.
But Madoka! She keeps dying at the end of each timeline, and Homura rewinds the clock frantically, unable to accept defeat.
51.
Well, then. She doesn't care. She'll just kill all the witches herself.
52.
Except when Madoka, desperate to save Homura from Walpurgisnacht, finally becomes a magical girl and obliterates it.
She also becomes the most powerful witch to ever exist.
Homura tries to cry, but her tears are frozen.
55.
Homura is losing the last she has of herself. She has sacrificed everything, everything, for Madoka, and that girl keeps dying, or turning into a witch, again and again and again...
62.
Homura kneels to the ground, spent, broken.
"I killed them all for you, Madoka," she whispers through a barely controlled sobs. "All the witches I could. And you became a magical girl anyway out of guilt, because of Sayaka! I should have killed her when I had the chance."
Madoka, unmoving in grey-purple water, does not answer.
67.
At first, Homura didn't believe in fate.
That didn't stop it from existing.
Fate is real, and it has trapped her into a mind-numbing, soul-sucking loop.
71.
It is a summer evening, dusky shadows falling over the city, and Mami seems genuinely surprised to see Homura when she opens the door. It is too early in the timeline for her to be alarmed.
A barrage of memories. How many times had they gathered together for a tea party, only to splinter and crumble beneath the crushing blows of fate? Can't go finding witches without tea, Mami laughs in her memories. I don't trust her, Sayaka growls, stormy-faced. Save me from being stupid, Madoka pleads desperately. And Homura hears her own voice speaking, pushing through that curtain of timelines past.
"Can I..." Homura hesitates. "Can we talk?" Mami detects a deep, forlorn sadness in the other girl's blue gaze.
Homura can't pour out her deepest secrets. She can't confess the truth. Failure has claimed her for its own. And Madoka stopped trusting her dozens of timelines ago. But she can collect the last vestiges of her sanity. She can still hold on to that dusty remainder of who she once was, the naive Homura who laughed and giggled with Madoka and Mami in the brilliant afternoon sunlight.
She can sit and clutch a cup of tea while her world is falling to pieces.
"I'm glad you stopped by," Mami smiles. "I was just making some tea."
Fin