It's dark. In an older Homura's apartment, that is. Lights turned down to their dimmest setting while still letting her see, computer still on, lingering though she doesn't sit at it, on a Google search page for mixed drink recipes. She sits on a hard couch nearby, two bottles on the table and a cup in hand, resting. She stares down at it, in silence, and thanks god that it's too dark to see her reflection. She must look like shit with those dark rings.

"She's getting married." she says to herself, as if she can't believe it. Barely even moves, nor intones in any way. Flatly, she continues talking to herself, "...Getting married. To that..." her hand clenches and threatens to break the glass "...bastard." There's a hint of emotion, at least.

Her phone starts ringing.

"Idiot" the caller ID says, below a picture of Sayaka making an annoyed expression.

She lets it go to voicemail. Also lets it distract her for a second, for the heavy metal she set her ringtone to was pretty much her only respite from agonizing loathing, at this point. Besides the drinks.

"How do you even get those?" Sayaka would always ask. Trade secret, of course. Same way she got that pistol.

She glances over at it, laying on the table to her right. Glancing between it and the drink, she sighs heavily and reaches for the gun, planting it to the head as casually as one eats their dinner. For the past month at least, doing this had been a fatalistic ritual of sorts. One bullet, one in five chance to die. Same time, every day. Honestly, it was a miracle it hadn't worked yet. Maybe she forgot to actually load it sometimes, but going more than a week is still highly unlikely. Yet, she sat here still. Somehow, fate had decided that it wasn't her time.

Come to think of times, that only reminds her of the current hopeless crisis. So, she repeats to herself like a mantra, "She's getting married..." Her hand starts to shake as she puts a very slight pressure on the trigger. Her teeth grit, and her eyes grow ever-so-slightly wet.

Sayaka calls again. Somehow, Homura hesitates for just a second. Hearing that music again puts those thoughts into another context. She pauses just long enough for a coherent thought to formulate in her head. A stupid one, sure, but not AS stupid as the alternative. She goes from about to crack to frowning and stagnant again in moments. Lowering the gun, she looks back down at her drink. Then the gun.

"One in five." she says. Somehow, it feels much more heavy than it has the past however many times. Yes, this was supremely stupid idea, but...

And as the ringing ends, her lips threaten to curve into a grin. And she silently resolves: Should this shot be the one that would kill her, she would take this new idea and run with it. If not? Well, it's just a matter of rotating the cylinder a little. She opens the cylinder.

There it is. That stupid bullet was right about to enter her head if she was stupid enough to actually do it. Finally, her frown cracks as she starts to chuckle to herself. It quickly evolves into a full-blown hysterical laugh, after which she regains her composure enough to say to herself, "Of course! I'm such an idiot!"

And she stands up, invigorated with a new, possibly terrible resolve. "I don't care if they hate me for this." she declares. "It's just like that idiot said; have to at least try! I won't stand by, anymore!"

She's just about to get ready and walk out when she realizes something else. She looks down at the gun again, then tosses it aside with the comment, "...No, that would be too easy."

She gets ready, dressed in the typical fare of jeans, an ordinary white shirt, steel-toed boots, and a leather jacket. She had first donned these just to seem cool, but they actually grew on her. The bike did, too. She grabs her helmet on the way out and marches down to ground level; hops onto her motorcycle and rides away so fast that it leaves tire marks on the pavement. Silently, she also thanks god that she had the wherewithal to ditch the glasses for contacts when they started high school.

Meanwhile...

"Goddammit." Sayaka explicates as she nearly throws her phone down after two failed calls.

"Just let her do her thing. It'll be alright. Now, could you help me with this?" Madoka says, trying and failing to reach the back strap on her wedding gown.

Sayaka sighs and tightens it up for her. "Aren't you even a little worried?"

No answer. Doesn't help that she's facing the other way and just fiddling idly with her hair.

"I can see your face in the mirror." Sayaka points out, mostly at the aggravated frown Madoka's making. Still, no answer. Sayaka tries a different angle, "How long has it been since you spoke to her?"

She prepares to answer, but either doesn't know or doesn't want to tell. Either way, her previous expression only intensifies.

"I mean, is this even really a good idea?" At this point, she's basically being given the silent treatment. "I mean, you two are like, the last people I would ever expect to fight like over...?" She tries to finish, but can only manage to palm her face and groan.

They both stand there silently for a good while before Sayaka continues, "...You're losing a lot, you know. Are you sure—"

"I can't." Madoka finally replies.

Sayaka glances back at her, but stays quiet.

"I can't stop, now. I already put too much into this."

For some reason, Sayaka finds herself getting instinctively angry.

"I...I love him. And if she can't handle that, then..." Madoka trails off as Sayaka cuts in.

"Do you?" Sayaka asks, tone growing incredibly cold.

Madoka whips her head around, looking clearly offended.

"Because I think you would have fallen for anyone who confessed to you."

Before Madoka can entertain the notion of kicking her out for that remark, Sayaka shows herself out without another word, leaving her friend speechless.

Outside the fitting room, Hitomi runs up to Sayaka, having heard everything, "Ms. Miki! That was a rather harsh, was it not?"

"Someone had to say it." Sayaka claims as she tries to put her hands in her pockets only to remember that evening gowns tend not to have them.

"Should you have not held back at all?" Hitomi continues to pester her.

"Why? She's too stubborn if I don't say it directly."

"I..." Hitomi tries to think of a response, but only conjures another question, "But isn't this supposed to be a happy day for her? I think you may be ruining it."

Sayaka stops in her tracks to retort, "And? It's a bad idea. There, I said it. I don't like him, I don't like all of this; and frankly, I'm more worried about Homura!"

"You two seem to have gotten awfully close, to be saying that. I thought you didn't get along."

"Times change. Guess this gave us something in common." she says.

Hitomi can't help but smirk, "You know, you're starting to sound like her, now that I think about it."

"That's the last thing I want to hear." Sayaka scoffs.

"Ah, there's the healthy antagonism." Hitomi teases.

"Would you just cram it and help me with the arrangements?"

Hitomi's smugness magnifies, "And there you go, talking like her again."

Sayaka tilts her head back as she turns around and begins to threaten her, "Hey, Hitomi..."

She runs away before anything can happen. Barges straight into the fitting room. Arguing ensues, as well does another groan from Sayaka.

Some time later, it's the time. As everyone gathers around the arc and all of that, Madoka walks down, and Junko starts doting on her to the other patrons. Though, she can't help but notice that something's a bit off. She turns to Tomohisa sitting beside her and asks, "Say, where's Homura? Didn't we invite all of her friends?"

He just shrugs, "Hitomi handed the invitations out."

She looks around, but the girl is too far away to just ask, and she can't really get up in the middle of the ceremony. But by the looks of it, she's the only one who's really worrying about it. That and the weird droning sound coming from afar.

As the ceremony goes on, it seems that other people start to hear it, too. First Sayaka, then the guests, then Hitomi, and the rest. Madoka is the last to hear it, and only as she's given the ink pen to sign the contract with.

But she hesitates. Not due in small part to the distraction. For a second, she seriously considers what Sayaka had said. Starts to doubt herself, like always.

And her fiancee (a pretty ordinary fellow, all things considered) asks, "Anything wrong?"

Of course she stammers and denies, "No, I'm fine. Just..."

It grows louder. He looks up and asks, "Damn gardeners need to keep it down..."

Sayaka overhears him and quietly says to herself as she wonders, "Gardeners? That sounds like..."

Suddenly, it sounds a bit...harmonious? Or something like that? Not noise, but...

Finally, it dawns on Madoka. There is only one person she knows who listens to fucking Five Finger Death Punch.

Straight down the path to the aisle, a blazing tornado of dust, metal, explosions, and excessively loud music reeks havoc on the decor. Homura and her motorcycle blaze through everything in their path and skid across the grass and stone so harshly; crash the party so goddamn hard that they may as well have set the ground on fire. She nearly spins out of control coming to a stop, creating a massive cloud of dust and exhaust that practically explodes out of her landing area and washes over half the crowd. By the time she stops and dismounts, the only thing anyone can hear is the blaring sound of heavy metal coming from her custom-made speakers. And yet, her form in concealed by the smoke.

Everyone knows who it is, but that doesn't stop her from striding forward in full biker regalia, fists clenched, each step heavier than the last, and nearly ripping her helmet off as the music reaches its climax. It falls against the ground as if made of lead, and she flips her hair to let it spring forth dramatically. Halfway down the aisle, she stands steadfast; entire body spread broad and eyes staring flaming, serrated daggers straight at Madoka's fiancee. He can practically feel the heat of her conviction from her presence alone, but the glare truly burns through him.

Now, Sayaka looks like she's about to burst into laughter at any second, but doesn't out of respect for how much courage that entry must have taken. Quietly, she says to herself, "Homura, this is the stupidest thing you have ever done. And I love it."

Hitomi adds her own comment, "Well, this is rather rude."

Junko also comments, "Oh. There she is."

Madoka is kept covering her mouth, which is hanging vastly agape in sheer astonishment. "H...Homura!?" she squeaks, though nobody can hear.

Homura doesn't deign her with an answer, as her furious and tired eyes naturally suggest. Instead, she merely raises her arm and points directly at the man.

He points at himself.

She transitions from a point to a thumbs down, and an even more fiery glare to match.

It takes a moment for him to get it, "...Are you challenging me?"

Homura takes one step forward for emphasis and shouts in her most confident voice, "You bet your ass, I am."

He takes a step back, "Sorry, I don't pick pointless fights."

Sayaka instantaneously facepalms, "Oh shit..."

Homura's eyebrow twitches. She takes another step forward, "This is happening, whether you like it or not!"

It seems as if he considers it for a second, "...And what happens if you win?"

"I'm taking my girl back. And I'll dare you to ever show your face around here again." she declares, rather aggressively.

"And...if I win?"

"You won't ever see or hear from me, again." Homura answers, less enthusiastically.

"Hmph," he scoffs as he steps down, holding his arms out to grandstand "I didn't know we were still living in the feudal times! I suppose you'll tell me to honorably end myself, next?"

"Ha ha!" Homura fake-laughs "Funny, I was considering going medieval on your ass when I realized it would be a lot more fun to just beat the ever-loving shit out of you, instead." As if to exemplify this, she cracks her knuckles.

He pretends to take her seriously, or tries. Ends up laughing, instead, "Please, please! Just spare yourself. She doesn't love you like me, and no amount of teeth flying will change that. Just let it go and we won't have to call the authorities. Run along, n—"

Homura spits on his face. It lands right on the left side of his jawline. Mildly surprised, he touches it lightly to see if that's really what he thought it was. "What...?" he asks, now getting slightly annoyed.

Homura takes a threatening step forward and announces, "That's where I'm going to knock you the fuck out!"

"Holy shit!" Sayaka comments, holding back incredulous laughter. She nudges Hitomi, "She took another level in badass, didn't she? Right? Right!?" she keeps nudging.

"Yes!" Hitomi irritatedly gives.

A short silence ensues, in which Homura finds it necessary to announce her reasoning just to make sure everyone knows, "Look! Madoka, you listen, too! I don't care if I get to sweep you off of your feet after this! I don't care if you hate me, or never want to be my friend again! I don't care if you ignore everything I've said, or the agreement! Whether I live or die, there's just one thing I want back! And that's my fucking dignity!"

She points at the guy, "You hear me, you bastard!? I never got the chance to confess to her, and yet you come and take that from me! I didn't even get to fight! Well, I've had it! The outcome doesn't matter, this is a fight for its own damn sake, and I'm not leaving until one of us is dead or unconscious!"

He looks shocked and appalled at first, as does everyone else in the seats. Except Sayaka. But slowly, he starts to grin until he's laughing just as much as the former. "Alright!" he says "I can see you aren't leaving without one, and this just got interesting. You know what? I accept."

Everyone starts murmuring and making way for them; pulling chairs away and such. Homura offers no response, merely the acknowledgement of acceptance.

Madoka buries her face in her hands and sits on the ground, "This can't be happening..."

Hitomi sits down with her, "There, there..." she literally says.

The guy throws his suit down, leaving only the lower layer as he marches forward. A bunch of girls whistle.

Homura throws her jacket to the side, leaving only the shirt as she approaches. A bunch of guys whistle.

And then they deck each other in the cheek so hard that they both nearly lose balance and topple to the side. Everyone goes "Ooh!".

The guy expects a dramatic mouth wipe and tries to copy it, only to be caught off guard when Homura lunges right forward and uppercuts him in the gut, then grabs his arm and just starts pounding it right in there like a goddamn meat tenderizer. With each punch, she heaves so hard that it almost sounds animalistic!

After a few, he grabs his bearings and counters by elbowing her in the chest and grappling her back, then throwing her over his shoulder. She lands flat on her back and grunts, but somehow rolls over and gets right back up as if it were nothing!

"Shit, you've got a heart condition?" the guy says in disbelief, raising his fists back up to defend.

"Who the fuck cares?" Homura groans as she leans back in and practically tackles him, grabbing both of his wrists in a surely adrenaline-fueled grip that he finds impossible to break free of. Instead, he's stuck fighting to just keep her away from him, as she persistently pushes and tries to throw him to the ground. They keep swinging back and forth in a rhythm of momentum, only stopping occasionally to struggle against each other. Eventually, Homura gains the upper hand by headbutting him in the nose, making him tumble to the ground easily as the crowd yelps from the sight of the blood.

"Fuck you!" she yells, running up to him and punting his body as it rolls on the ground in pain. Not just one, but she just keeps kicking. Normally, it'd be dirty, but she can't find the effort to care at this point.

He points this out, "Ah! Playing— Agh! Dirty, are— Ghck! We!?"

"Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!" Homura chants, still kicking and stomping on him with all of her might.

Eventually, he has enough. He rolls around and endures another kick to his legs just to get a shot at her: He kicks up, right at her groin. She growls and bends over, letting him strike again at her face, knocking her down as well and allowing him to get back up.

Sayaka is still giggling to herself, quietly cheering Homura on and shadow boxing to the beat of the fight, "God, this isn't even a fist fight anymore, it's just brutal!"

Hitomi scolds her, "Sayaka!" and then shoots a squirt bottle at her.

"The hell?" Sayaka asks, becoming mildly damp.

As the fight goes on, they eventually devolve into just trading blow after vicious blow, pulling at each other's hair, stepping on toes, taking crotch shots, strangling, and all sorts of other things. As the fight grows more and more violent, the initial cheers of side vs.. Side fade into worried gasps. And all the while, the radio on Homura's motorcycle is still going on in the background to feed her aggression.

Eventually, they both stand across from each other, clothes torn and ruffled, faces bruised and beaten to a pulp, noses bleeding. Homura spits blood out, and a visible tooth in the mixture of red elicits cringe from more than a few people.

"You gonna give up, yet?" he asks, tauntingly.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you."

"You can try."

They run at each other again, but he makes the fatal mistake of trying to end the fight in single blow. She tanks right through it and tackles him again, but changes things up by lifting him up and suplexing him into the ground. The crowd practically screams from how painful it looked, but her own sloppy execution made it less than a finisher.

"Damn." Sayaka says "She's not called 'Homura' for nothing..."

Homura exhaustedly backs up a bit and catches her breath while he gets up and does the same. They make the exchange again, this time with her arms being too weak to land an effective hit. He gets several free ones on her and only stops when she grabs him and throws him back a ways. Practically all of her orifices are dripping with blood by now, but she continues to stand.

"What the fuck are you made of!?" he asks incredulously.

She keeps gasping for breath, but manages a sentence in the midst of it, "Heh... Your worst nightmares come to life."

"What?"

He doesn't have time to ponder the answer. Within the next split second, Homura rushes him down in one last burst of energy and slams her fist right into his left jawline with the force of thousand suns! The uppercut could have easily broken his neck, but he luckily only stumbles backwards and falls cold.

Homura is left gasping for breath. Both of them are drenched in sweat and blood. The entire congregation is traumatized. Her last words of the ordeal? "I win." she says before his family comes rushing to his aid.

It's when she begins stumbling towards her motorcycle again that Sayaka comes running down to stop her, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait!" She grabs the weakened Homura and holds her up, but back, "You don't need to be driving in that condition."

"I do what I want." Homura groggily argues.

"Shut up and sit down, you amazing dumbass." Sayaka commands.

"How FUCKING ironic!" she yells back as she's forced into a chair.

"Yeah, yeah, just stay here and I'll get an ice pack."

Homura is suddenly distracted, "...Madoka?"

Sayaka looks behind to notice Madoka having walked over, now looming over the two of them and not looking particularly thrilled.

"Ma...Madoka, I did—!" Homura tries to speak, but gets smacked in the face with a bouquet of flowers that deal the finishing blow.

At least an hour later, at the Kaname house, Homura finds herself waking up, wrapped up like a damn mummy, and unclear as to what exactly just happened. As soon as she awakes, she's greeted by Junko and Sayaka, the latter of which is pretty leisurely about everything, "Oh, crazy bitch's awake."

"Shut up." Homura immediately says.

"Hey, how much did you drink to think that was a good idea?" Sayaka relentlessly teases.

"I'll have you know that I was completely sober."

"That's even worse."

Junko interjects, "Sayaka, please. Let me handle this."

They switch seats. Junko immediately repeats, "Homura, what were you on?"

Homura answers in a sarcastic tone, despite being serious, "Love and righteous fucking fury!"

Junko sighs, "...You used to be such a sweet girl, too."

Homura rolls her eyes.

Junko chuckles, "Okay, I'll be serious. You feel better?"

Despite the gentle face being presented to her, Homura can't help but keep up with her fatalism, "Yup, I can die without any...mostly any regrets, now."

Sayaka slaps her leg, "Hey, quit that."

"Ow."

"You won, you know." she adds.

Homura lifts her head up, "What?"

"You won:" Sayaka explains "those people don't want anything to do with us, anymore. Not after that stunt. I mean, not that I'm complaining."

Homura sighs, "When you say it like that, it makes me sound like the villain."

"You kind of are." Sayaka chuckles.

"Yeah..." Homura "unexpectedly" agrees. "Madoka probably hates me now, too."

Sayaka rubs the back of her head, "Well...uh...she—"

Junko finishes for her, "She's still pretty upset, but I don't think she could ever hate you."

"But..." Homura tries to argue.

"No." Junko preemptively answers. "She's not that type of person. Yes, that seeing two people she loves fighting is going to hurt, but that passes. What's important is that—"

"You're here." Madoka finishes, standing behind the other two.

Homura darts her eyes up, "M-Madoka!"

Sayaka and Junko hastily make way as she kneels down to eye level with Homura, giving her a difficult stare. She avoids eye contact.

"Homura." Madoka says, softly.

"I'm sorry." Homura apologizes automatically.

Madoka shakes her head, "Me too."

Homura raises herself up a bit, "What are you sorry about? I'm the one who—"

Madoka puts a single finger on her lips, "Shh. I'm the reason you went and did that, in the first place."

Homura lies back down and listens.

"Sayaka was right. I didn't think about you. I just went with the first thing, and everyone got hurt because of it." She looks down, "I put you through a lot. If it were me, I don't know if I would have been able to handle it like you did."

Homura stops her, "Quit apologizing! You don't have to blame yourself for my sake; you didn't do anything wrong! It was my fault for not telling you, sooner!"

"And it was mine for being selfish!" Madoka yells back. "I... We all were, really. I guess that's why Sayaka kept telling me not to do it." She looks over at her, "She has that sort of intuition, after all."

Sayaka rubs the back of her head, "Ah, it's nothing. Just life experience, you know. I've been through shit like this...just less crazy."

They both chuckle. Madoka continues, "Besides, some things happened after that fight, and I guess you could say that they never really cared about me. I'm wondering if he never did, either. But it's over now, so I'll never really know."

Homura sighs, "It doesn't matter."

Madoka rolls her eyes, "Yes it does. It took you doing that to make me realize that this has all been too much, too fast. I should have at least waited, but..."

She trails off, and their hands clasp together. For a moment, they just stare at each other. Then she finishes, "Anyways, let's just start this over. Okay?"

Homura seems to instinctively recoil at the idea, "No." She shakes her head, "No, we can't just start over."

For a moment, Madoka goes from a lax yet sad smile to shock and fear.

"We're continuing." Homura says as she lifts herself up out of the bed, despite the pain in her joints.

The fear all but vanishes. "Eh?" Madoka says, looking dumbfounded.

Homura looks her dead in the eye, "You can't just erase this like it never happened, but we can walk past it. So instead of forgetting, let's just remember this as an accident."

Madoka can't help but smile, "That's..." A few different things pop into her head. "Beautiful" is one. "So like you." is another. Maybe "You're right."

Doesn't matter; Homura continues, "So, whatever you're blaming yourself for, I'm over it. Of course I forgive you, no matter what. So quit it, already."

Madoka can barely form a proper response to that. Only agreement comes, "Yeah. Same."

And for the first time in what seems like an eternity, Homura looks at her with the biggest, stupidest grin she can possibly make. Before Madoka knows it, she's taken in a tight hug that she doesn't hesitate to return.

Junko can barely hold back going "Aww." or something similar, and Sayaka just has the most satisfied and smug look on her face.

After their embrace, Homura suggests, "So... Now that everything is calmed down, how about a party at my place? Plenty of drinks."

Junko quickly intervenes, "Absolutely not. I don't know how you keep getting alcohol, but I can't in good conscience let you keep doing that."

"Too late." Homura says. "Already did it a million times."

Everyone sighs. "That's not the point..." Sayaka tells her in vain.

"Well..." Madoka starts "...you need to rest, anyways. You both got beat up pretty bad. So don't move; just let us take care of you, for now. You can party, later."

"After all the trouble I caused?"

"Haven't we been over this?"

They both smirk at each other. In a change of topic, Homura promises, "Hey. I'm going to make up for this. We're going to have a wedding twice as good as that. Just you wait."

"A bit soon, don't you think?"

"Madoka, I've been thinking about this since we met." Homura explains, completely seriously.

It makes Madoka giggle uncontrollably, "That's adorable!"

Sayaka immediately stands up, fake-stretches, and announces, "Well, time for me to get home! You two try to get along, alright? And no need to thank me."

"Way to pat yourself on the shoulder." Homura quips.

Sayaka flips the bird jokingly as she walks out, "Yeah, yeah."

Junko excuses herself, as well, "I'll go ask your father what's for dinner. Leave you two alone, for a while." She winks as she follows behind Sayaka.

Once they're alone, Madoka rests her head on Homura's leg. For a while, they just sort of stagnate there, absorbing the atmosphere and silently making up to each other with their mere presence. Eventually, she falls asleep right there, and Homura caresses her head.

"I love you." she says, not expecting a response. Years of cowardice and repression, years of that feeling building up inside of her like a shaken soda all put into that single statement that couldn't have possibly been more sincerely, softly spoken. This wasn't "Homura the Badass Biker Chick" talking and trying to sound cool, but just "Homura".

She may not have expected an answer, but she got one anyways. Not words, but a light nudge of acknowledgement against her leg. She could almost cry, right now. And she does.