Homura woke up in her hospital bed, just like so many countless times before. She sat up, in no hurry. Summoned her shield. The first time in an eternity that she was unsure. Not wanting to face this. Anything but this. A hesitant reach inside and she pulled.

Tink, tink

She had succeeded.

And failed utterly.

It will be okay Homura, I'll fix everything!

Madoka ran through the twisted dream-scape. Checkered doors that went backwards. Patterned floors only half there. Spiral hallways that ran up-side down. The world changed but nothing truly moved. She could hear the cries for salvation and could do nothing. Madoka pushed open a wall marked 'go back' and the universe broke in. A thing. It looked like a gear with a doll pinned to it. A clock gear larger than a building. A doll silently crying, hurting, causing other to feel her pain. A girl in purple and black flew against the creature in the distance. She would fail. A nightmare of meaningless colors, noises twirled in the morning sky. Madoka did not watch alone.

Another girl, she knew it was herself, watched the two combatants not ten meters from where she should. A victory and loss already decided. She wore a green, filled and ruffled dress with black trim. It looked like something an anime character would wear. The other Madoka had known of her coming and turned to face herself. Silence reigned. She couldn't see anything in her doppelgangers face, but somehow the agony was clear. Held in her right hand was a wire-frame sphere with a thin spike coming from the bottom. The other whispered something too quiet to hear.

And Madoka woke up.

She was not sweating but felt like she had. The sensation of a painful decision that she would see through to the black end slept in her heart. She was shaking. The dream would not leave her. She got out of bed. She felt strong and weak. Expecting to hurt for some reason. Nothing was unusual. The sun shone in it's cheerful way. Nothing would ever be wrong. The glass walls seperated the light into a prism of magnificent colors. The dream was a dream she could ignore it and go on with perfect life. Nothing would ever change.

Madoka's day went by like any other. Waking mom up. Getting ready for school. Her dream lurked at the edges of her mind. It didn't feel like a dream. It would have faded by now. If anything the details were clearer. The patterns on the dress. Like a current in the ocean. The pain in the others eyes. The fight behind her back. It was not like a premonition, but a statement. Something beyond horrible and chosen had happened and now there was only the living with the decision.

Sayaka and Hitomi were just ahead. Madoka tried to push the dream aside. She didn't want her friends to be worried. As best she could, she smiled for them.

School went it's normal boring path. Poor Ms. Satome still had no luck with men. The last one complained of undercooked rice. One day she would find someone that appreciated her for being herself. A small break in routine roused Madoka from the same-old doldrums.

"Class we have a transfer student today. Her name is Homura Akemi." The transfer student walked in the class. Purple hair flowing behind her as she walked, she wore the standard uniform of the class with black stockings. Madoka felt like she should know Homura. A cloud of weary apathy hung over her. She stood as a testament of strength and beauty that had been taken outside and beaten with a golf club.

"She looks terrible", Sayaka whispered to Madoka.

Homura said her name and wrote it on the whiteboard. While she looked over the class her eyes fled from Madoka again and again. For her the pain was too raw and near. She took her seat. Whenever she was called to the front to solve a problem she obliterated with the same non-concern she gave everything else. She was noticed by all and did nothing to notice them. Gym fared the same. For all of Homura's fragility the school records were no match for her. Even the crowd of girls and boys that surrounded her didn't rouse her attention. She ignored everyone. It was only after gym that she spoke to Madoka.

"I'm not feeling well", Homura was noticeably paler than when she first walked in, "you are the health officer right? Could you please take me to the nurses office?"

"Of course!" Madoka chirped, happy to be of help. The pale girl nodded and walked along beside Madoka. The new girl looked like she needed a friend, and a shoulder to lean on. Madoka chatted with the non-responsive girl. Not caring if Homura was not answering back. She was new and needed a friend, that was all. Homura looked shy. She'd feel better once she got used to the school.

Madoka saw her reflection in the glass beside herself. The whole school was visible to anyone looking around. The glass reflected everything. A class across the building, people walking just outside. Sometimes at certain times of the year the sunlight would bounce through the windows just so that everyone would be color-shifted. For many it meant wearing a mask at all times to show people want they wanted to see. To hide their true selves. Madoka never wore a mask. She would always be herself.

She'd seen the small pains that could make people do things they'd later apologize for. The little triumphs and defeats that changed outlooks and behaviors. No-one was really bad in her mind. Just that bad things happened to them.

Homura walked like she knew where she was going. A feat she managed with her eyes closed and in obvious pain. "Hey, are you okay?" Madoka put her arm on the miserable girl's shoulder. Homura might not be used to someone who was friendly to her. Madoka didn't expect Homura to snap around and with barely an inch between them whisper:

"If someone gives you something too good to be true, it is." Homura refused to say anything more. Nothing Madoka tried would get the pale girl to open up.

After school at lunch, Madoka and her friends the new girl, Homura, was the center of the discussion.

"She needs some sleep." Sayaka declared. "She looks awful." The tom-boy normally liked to joke and be silly, but pain was off limits.

"She acts really sad. Like no-one talks to her." Madoka said. Sayaka scoffed. More than a few tried and got nowhere.

"Was she supposed to be released this soon? She looks very ill." Hitomi demurely asked. Madoka shrugged. Hitomi was a complete opposite to Sayaka. Gentle and empathic. Yet, they were best friends.

"She did great in gym. I think she just needs a friend."

"Uh oh, Madoka likes the sick ones! To bad! You're mai waifu!" Sayaka declared, hugging Madoka and pulling her close.

"Sayaka."

"Oh fine I'll invite her over for a burger tomorrow", she grumbled and went back to eating. Until she looked at her watch.

"Ah! I gotta get that CD for Kyousuke." Reluctantly the friends broke apart for the day. Sayaka so hopeful for the future, Madoka worrying over the new girl and Hitomi scared she would lose her best friend soon.

What did you do?

I-I made a wish.

In the past Homura made plans, equipment and careful attempts at friendship. Now she made excuses. One more day and I'll do it. Just more time. Not here someone might see. Before long weeks past and she was running out of time.

Time. Once she had so much of it.

Time to talk with her friend, her only friend. Time to share their pains and joys. The time to fight for things. Time to struggle against the inevitable. Time to hurt. Time to watch her die. Time to see her friend, her only friend, be twisted into something horrible. Time to make her only friend hate her. Time to drive her away.

She knew that Kyubey, that little rat that caused all this, would be here. Under the mall. A witch would be by soon. Along with Mami, once someone she longed to be. Mami was as damned as Homura was. Waiting to trap her only friend. She told herself just a little more time. She marched over to where the alien hid. He never moved from that spot. With no small amount of joy she shot him. Just a little more time.

Kyubey watched the Puella Magi approach. Pure scientific curiosity his interest into her identity. He was about to greet her when she shot him. A spawn immediately. Plans for how to incorporate this development were already in place. She was faster. Homura snatched him by the neck and jammed her gun into his smiling face. Kyubey waited for the shot that never came.

"You want to contract Madoka and I don't. I've stopped you several times now." She stopped momentarily. A heavy blink, "Here's the deal. If you don't try to contract her for," another pause, "the next week I won't stop you after that." It took the alien a split second to decide.

"Agreed." Homura dropped him and walked off, determined to face Madoka's choice with the week she just bought. Kyubey had little interest in the forced promise. It would be easy to work around it and even following it would not impact his work any.

But it could prove a useful asset.

Madoka and Sayaka walked out of the mall. Their shopping was finished and ready to separate until tomorrow.

Then reality died.

The walls and floors melted, replaced by jigsaw of insanity and caution tape. Faceless men flew by in the distance. Like photo-scraps pasted along invisible planes. The two girls inched closer as the world faded away. They were not alone. Things, demented parodies of men, inched closer. Like cotton balls with mustaches glued to the front, they gibbered something unseen. The babbling horrors drew black scissor-like blades and cavorted at the frightened pair. Madoka and Sayaka backed into the other, the last vestiges of sanity begging them to flee.

The closest one exploded. The two jumped, the gunshot echoing in the nightmare. A flare of yellow light surrounded them. Another bang, one more nightmare exploded. Madoka looked about, hoping to find the familiar in the madness. The new girl from school, Homura, clad in black and purple drove in from their right. A gun in her hands, staccato bangs heralding her drive to the trapped pair. Grim hate burned into her eyes. Sayaka's attention was taken from the left. Another girl, dressed in a yellow, white and black blouse and skirt strode towards them. Muskets appearing from nowhere, firing and vanishing just as quickly.

Caught between the two, the horrors crumbled and broke. As they creatures ran the world shimmered and the place they knew, sanity itself, poked back in.

The witch fled, reality asserted itself. Homura and Mami faced each other. Once they'd been close. Not friends, but they once fought along side the other. Homura remembered her smiles, her laughter. The lunches the three had shared at her apartment. She remembered Mami's tear streaked face as she pointed her musket at Homura, crying that this was the only way. So much had happened, so many aeons of time had past. If they could ever not be enemies again Homura didn't know the words.

Homura did the only thing she could.

She left.

Next Chapter: A Lack of Understanding