I wanted to write a happy scene for MadoHomu, which I know is impossible given their circumstances, but I think that there is still a chance it could have worked out and wanted to focus on that hope still being in their relationship somewhere, just that it's been unfortunately left behind for now.

For those curious, 'chaos theory' is, simply put, the study of how small changes in complex systems can have radically different results than first determined. This can apply to weather forecasts... or never-ending time travel...

Thank you very much for reading this little piece.

CONTENT WITH CHAOS THEORY

Did you see another lifetime, where I was not a part so far entwined?

The wind tried to whip her braids across her shoulders and Homura briefly wondered if her first time living this same day had been similar. Unlikely, she figured. Her magic could affect many things but weather was too complicated and abstract to be constrained by a single girl, even one with control over the equally complex concept of Time. Probably it had still been unseasonably cold that initial day… maybe. Already her memories were becoming bundled together and blurred, and sometimes she caught herself doubting if her mind's recollections even were memories. Sometimes she caught herself wondering if this was all really worth it…

Of course it is. She's worth everything.

Homura walked from school to home, just as she'd done many, many, many times before. Usually her evenings were simple: hunt and eradicate witches or complete the schoolwork that had become automatic by this point. But tonight wouldn't be the usual night. Familiars and witches were sparse thanks to the concentrated efforts of Mitikihara's magical girls, and ever-maternal Mami insisted this be a chance for the Puella Magi to enjoy some normalcy. It took all of what meagre strength Homura had in her to not scream out why normalcy wasn't an option anymore. Walpurgisnacht was little more than a week away. But she had to remain calm and believe they were prepared.

(Through forced trial-and-error, she'd become better at convincing her teammates of the upcoming threat, but there was still only so much she could make them believe. Talking of an event that had yet to happen in great detail usually caused suspicion. Talking of deaths that had yet to happen always caused aggression.)

Being normal... Her shoes marked out a rhythm on the walk home, just as many of her peers would be hearing right now, too. They would be returning to families; they'd have dinner with loved ones; they would go to sleep and imagine a tomorrow as common as today. Did she envy them? Not much. Homura had always had an uncommon life. Those memories were still clear. She remembered the hospital, the loneliness, and she remembered the day she was saved, which even after all this time- all these do-overs- still remained her happiest moment.

"H-Homura, hold on!"

That voice cut through all else and she whirled around to see Madoka running towards her. Homura waited for the other girl to catch a breath before she asked, "Is something wrong?" Even after being told to leave all that be for one night she still assumed the worst situations of a crisis that needed her attention.

But Madoka happily said, "I just wanted to talk to you."

This was... new, and the novelty of that feeling seemed to force Homura back to the flabbergasted mess she used to be because the best reply she could splutter out was "Uh- oh- okay, yes."

Composure soon regained for the both of them, Madoka walked alongside Homura, their strides mirrored, schoolbags swinging akimbo.

"Sorry for intruding on your evening like this," Madoka began, "but I always see you walking home alone, and I... I guess I just started to worry you'd be lonely, especially on a night where we have nothing to do. So I thought maybe you and I could spend some time together tonight." She added hastily, with a meek glance to Homura, "If that's alright with you, of course."

Homura gave her a gentle smile. Madoka's timidity was a trait that wouldn't change no matter what (or when). Homura could relate. But, even more than that, Madoka held an innate sense to do right and no other piece of her personality could compete with that.

It was unfair, Homura thought for not the first time. Madoka should have just been a normal girl with her own esteem to be the biggest worry in her days. She'd never done anything wrong yet now she was stuck in a life where the whole world was against her. It was all wholly, horribly unfair.

(Of course Homura could voice none of this. She'd made that mistake one too many times, sharing her thoughts on experiences that no one else knew of, and they reacted in confusion, and sometimes a little fear. They must have thought she was going crazy. Eventually she learned to say nothing at all.)

"I thought you would be with Miki tonight," Homura commented.

"I thought so too," Madoka said lightly. "We were supposed to study but she gave up on that almost immediately and told me she was going to be busy with something else. She didn't say what but that's okay, she's always been like this, ever since we were little."

The jealousy tore into her, as it often did whenever Madoka or Sayaka mentioned their childhood together. Homura stamped the feeling back down, as she usually could, but the bitter taste of it still remained in her throat. She never had the opportunity to know a different Madoka; at least Sayaka can remember times before they knew of magic. She and Madoka could never have the same. They must have shared thousands of moments together, yet only one half could remember most of them. They didn't have a past to speak of yet. All they had together was the Now and that was so fragile and tenuous.

She was brought out of her thoughts by a humble query. "Homura? Is something wrong?" This, again, caught her off guard- her expression must have given her away- and her tongue froze for any sort of reply. Before she had the chance to form a word, however, a soft and sudden raindrop hit against her nose. Just as sudden came an influx of rain and both girls, squealing from the cold and holding their book bags over their heads for makeshift umbrellas, ran to the nearest shelter they could find. A short sprint away was a floral shop with an awning stretched across its storefront that made for a good quick sanctuary.

Shaking water off her bag, Madoka said without any sign of sarcasm, "This night has an interesting start."

"It could be worse," said Homura while wringing out the ends of her braids. They'd be heavy for the better part of an hour now. Times like these lengthy hair was a nuisance but she wasn't about to get rid of her most complimented-upon feature any time soon. "I'm sure this won't last long."

But last the downpour did, and for a few minutes the two of them stood beside each other, trying to bring some warmth into their damp limbs, staring at the rain obscure the city street, listening to the natural made staccato rhythm against the vinyl above them.

Their silence was broken when Madoka asked, "Would you mind if I told you something?"

"Of course not." Homura answered before Madoka barely finished the last syllable.

"It's a bit silly, though. Promise you won't laugh?"

"I promise. Otherwise I'll swallow a thousand needles."

This elicited a giggle from Madoka. "You don't need to do that." She looked off into the rain before she spoke. "It's just... How can I say this in a way that makes sense? I know what we do is dangerous, and there are times, even if we're only fighting Familiars, that I get so scared I can't move... But these last few weeks have been some of the greatest in my life. For the first time I feel like I'm finally contributing to the world and making a real difference."

"You are. You've become so strong."

(She should have noticed. With every re-meeting Madoka's magic grew in scope, so incremental to be unnoticeable at first, but by now her powers had doubled in comparison to the first time they'd met. She should have realized the cause. But she only saw Madoka's growing strength in fervent optimism. Strength meant survival.)

In response to the compliment, Madoka gave an embarrassed little smile and watched her shuffling feet. "Aw, I don't add that much. It's all of us working together that really matters." She continued to shift around and fidget while saying, "That's not all I wanted to tell you, though. I- um- I- Well- Even though I'm glad to work with everyone in our team, I'm happy to be part of this team at all, it's just that I... sometimes feel like you're the real reason I keep going. You're the only one I don't need to call out to during our battles and no matter how scared I get I can find courage knowing you're behind me somewhere and won't let anything happen to me. I just feel that, more than anyone else, you and I were meant to meet." She tried to distract from the sudden bright flush overtaking her face with a self-deprecating laugh. "Pretty silly, right?"

A myriad of emotions flooded and overflowed in Homura's chest: joy thumping through her heart that Madoka would put such trust in her; the underlying fear she could never escape that there would be a time she would be too late to play her part as protector; maybe some pride and hope mingled together because her efforts had been noticed and that Madoka might be able to return her affectionate feelings; and, in the middle of it all, there lingered a hole, a void, an unknown. If Madoka knew... But what would that mean? She couldn't focus on those possibilities, good or bad, they would only distract her.

So she summarized her thoughts by merely saying, as promised, with no hint of laughter, "I don't think it's silly at all."

Madoka breathed a relaxed sigh. "Thank you."

The rain had lessened to a soft shower and now they could calmly wait to leave rather than feel trapped. Their hands brushed against palm sides but, excusing the initial embarrassed recoil, neither one minded and had no objection to loosely lacing their fingers together, each sharing in their warmth.

A thought suddenly came to Homura. "We'll still be together, won't we?" she asked. "Even if there are no witches to fight?"

She couldn't be sure what the reply would be, which made her all the more relieved when she heard "Always."

With that, Homura gently leaned against her closest companion, almost tall enough to rest her temple against the other girl's crown, and -perhaps this part just being her imagination- Madoka leaned into her as well.

They talked of what to do once the rain stopped, then what they would do to pass the night, to pass the week, the month, then they wondered how they could enjoy the next summer vacation. For the next short while an entire future laid before them.

Tomorrow would be another normal day, witch hunts and barely staying alive, and in a week's time she might (only might, she reminded her faith) lose all she'd fought for all over again, but, for right now, everything was perfect.

This time, she told herself. This time for certain.

It might have seemed so ridiculous to anyone else, to dedicate her life to protect the happiness and well-being of a girl who constantly forgot about her, yet this was Homura's own contribution to the world and what gave her days meaning. She needed to keep Madoka's life safe. She needed to keep the hope that such a want was eventually possible. Because if she didn't have that belief, that objective... then what else did she have?

(Homura thought of Madoka as many things… a classmate, a friend, a pacifist, a goal, an ideal, a soul more precious than all of the world's gems and jewels, her whole world and reason for being…

But, deep within her heart where she couldn't see, she couldn't think of her as simply Madoka Kaname. Not anymore. She'd fallen in love with the idea of a person, an instance of what could have been. And that was the one action she could never rewind or erase, no matter how many times she tried.)