"I always have nightmares," her mother suddenly confess out of the blue one day.
Sayaka kept her eyes on the screen, voice was nothing but static in her ears.
Something was wrong. Something was lacking.
"Mom, it's just a dream."
Is it?
Her mother was sobbing now. "Sayaka, I have a dream where you died!"
Good grief, Mom, Sayaka rolled her eyes. I have nightmares like that too.
But telling them wouldn't help anyone. It wouldn't help her mother's depression and it certainly didn't ease Sayaka's own nightmares. See, life just kept going, even though Sayaka could still remember the taste of death, could remember falling into a void, she still woke up everyday and went to school.
Life just kept going.
(She started to hope it would stop already.)
Her mother was still sobbing, calling her names.
Your daughter is still alive, Sayaka wanted to say. Except, she wasn't. She felt like she was supposed to be dead. So what was it that she should say in this situation?
"Mom, look, I feel like I haven't watched this show in a long time so why don't you just sit down and let me watch in piece."
Her mother sat down. She was still crying but she was no longer a mess like a before. "Sayaka, I'll keep quiet so please don't leave me. Don't disappear."
I am still alive, Sayaka put a hand in front of her chest, listening to her own breathing. Right?
.
.
"You're driving me crazy."
The little girl started to cry. Sayaka glared at her. She really hated this girl. That was one question solved on why she always suddenly felt like a murderous urge to destroy this white mush. Yet, somehow, something was still lacking. The adults were all turned at her, eyes judging and mouth formed a thin line of exasperation.
Grow up already, those judging eyes said.
"I don't do anything wrong!"
Sayaka snorted. "Listen, Sunshine, not everybody in the world is born to like you and your ridiculous white hair. I, for example, really really hate you."
"But why?" the white-haired little girl was positively wailing now.
"I don't know."
There was a glass wall in front of her but Sayaka could only see unfamiliar shadow. And coiling around the shadow like a snake was the darkness that for some reason reminded her of a red ribbon.
This urge was here again. The murderous urge to kill someone.
"Bebe, are you sure you haven't done anything wrong?"
The little girl stopped crying then. This girl too, was coiled around intoxicating darkness. She had such perfect white skin, this girl was. Perfect container, someone had said. A little red wasn't gonna hurt, right?
How fascinating. Right now, all Sayaka could think of was a sword.
"I haven't, but maybe I've just forgotten?"
"You were running happily that day," Sayaka got down on her knees, staring at the girl right in the eyes. "I was talking to someone. You've forgotten that too?"
"Please," The little girl was trembling now. Smart child. She realized that Sayaka wasn't gonna take her bulshit just because of her childish form. "I am sorry, Onee-chan. I haven't done anything wrong."
"Look at me, Witch."
The little girl screamed.
The funny thing was, when Sayaka looked at her reflection in the little girl's eyes, she clearly saw a monster.
.
.
"Your mother called me. She said you were trying to pick a fight with that elementary schooler again."
Sayaka snorted. "What do you mean again?"
Hitomi just stood there. Ah, Sayaka really hate those eyes. Just a little, she understood the feeling of the boy in the wheelchair.
Wait, who was that again?
"The boy in the wheelchair..."
"What?"
"Hitomi, do you know any guy who use wheelchair."
Hitomi's teeth clenched. "I don't know."
That was some good expression she made. She knew something. If it was Sayaka's lucky day, surely she didn't get to have nightmare again. Surely, Hitomi understood this?
"Sayaka," Hitomi's voice felt like it came from entirely different world. She gripped her shoulders, like a madman. Had Hitomi gone mad just like her mother? Was it Sayaka's fault? But she just wanted to remember. She had to remember.
Something was wrong. Something was lacking.
If Sayaka knew what it was, then maybe...
She pushed Hitomi aside, looking for another drink.
"Sayaka, what's wrong with you?"
"I asked that question every morning," she tiptoed sluggishly to reach the counter. She was sure her mother kept a very expensive drink there.
"You're not even legal yet."
"What do you know," Under Hitomi's watcful eyes, she opened other bottle of whisky then gulped it down. "I feel old. I might be really old inside," She laughed. "Rotten. Know what I mean? I'll go to school once I get the answer."
"You already said yesterday."
"The world. Has it always been like this?" She took another drink. "So twisted. Broken."
It wasn't like this before.
But Sayaka couldn't even remember what before was supposed to be.
.
.
The sky looked normal today. Not bloody red, drops of wine falling down, the clouds that look liked they watch everything you do. Just normal blue sky. Sayaka took this chance to properly see her face in the mirror.
When the shadow didn't cover up everything, Sayaka saw a knight, wearing a blue dress like the color of the sky. She sat in front of the mirror for hours, until the shadow returned, that was how her mother found her.
"What are you doing?" her mother sounded tired.
"How do I look like, Mom?"
"Like a madman."
Sayaka stiffened. Either the world have gone crazy or it was herself. She peeked outside the window. The sky was all black, no light, a bleak picture of hell. When the morning came, the sky was a painting of blood, the color of war. She already missed the normal blue sky.
But then again, what did she knew about normal?
She pulled her mother's hand and wrapped a blanket around themself, she curled up beside her like a big ball. Usually, her mother would tease her at how she would never grow up. Today, the old woman just quietly embraced her tightly.
So warm, Sayaka thought. Surely, even though that day was just an illusion, this warmth was real. Even though everything else was nothing but her imagination, this alone was a prove that Sayaka wasn't a monster.
Who am I kidding.
"Sayaka?"
"Hm..." Sayaka nuzzled closer.
"Don't cry... I won't let you go, so please, don't cry..."
Sayaka opened her mouth to reassure her mother that she wasn't crying, but it turned out that she was, in fact, really crying. "I don't know why I am crying."
"You probably just forget the reason."
"Will I remember?"
Her mother gigled. "Of course, silly."
She never brought up the whisky. And Sayaka never spoke of her own nightmares.
The sky outside was deep purple.
The color of that person's eyes.
.
.
"Hitomi said she's worried."
The boy in the wheelchair. Sayaka shook her head. No, Kyousuke wasn't the boy in the wheelchair. He was a good boy. He knew how to play violin. There was no way, right?
Unless, Sayaka had forgotten about it.
"Have you always been this perfect?"
The boy laughed. "What are you talking about, Sayaka?" Then, his laugh subsided into a really sad smile. "Have you forgotten?"
"Ah, I..."
What was it again?
The monster in the reflection. If it wasn't the boy in the wheelchair then it was... Sayaka?
"Ah, ah..."
"Sayaka, what's wrong?" Someone rushed to her side. How warm. Sayaka wanted to cling to this person.
"Kyousuke, I am..." Sayaka looked at the mirror. Red sky outside. The color of her blood. Darkness coiling around her shadow. "What am I?"
All this time, she felt like she was drowning. It was hard to breath. This body that Kyousuke hugged right now, it wasn't her actual body.
"It's okay, Sayaka," the boy of miracle pulled her closer. How warm. Surely, this wasn't just another nightmare. "You always look confused whenever you see me. I am confused too."
"You too?"
"I feel like you will go somewhere far away if I let go."
The strange thing was, Sayaka knew she should go. If only she remembered where.
.
.
"Ah, we're back to this point again, huh?" Sayaka looked down, even without mirror, the darkness was clearly visible. They were choking on her, drowning her down, pulling her leg to the void. Sayaka was, to put it very bluntly, really tired.
This was what they called despair. From the first time she came down to this town, a part of her stolen, Sayaka was just an empty container. It was gone, the dirty thing that used to fill up her soul gem. But since the law was rewritten, Sayaka couldn't go anywhere. She couldn't go to where the hope was, but she couldn't turn into a Witch either. She was right about everything.
This world was twisted, broken.
Everyone just sort of forgot. Even Mami. Even Kyouko.
Even Madoka.
"How long are you going to keep this up?" She pinched her nose. "This is pointless."
"What about you?" The sinner responded. She looked just like a normal girl right now, sitting in a cafe without her magical suit. "How long are you going to keep this up?"
"This world is hell to me. To that little girl too. This isn't right, Akemi Homura."
Sayaka remembered now. She remembered everything. But now that the world finally made sense, she also came to a certain point.
This couldn't be the first time they talked like this face-to-face.
"That's right, because you're that kind of person," Homura was smirking now, that Witch. One day, Sayaka would definitely smacked her head. "Why don't you just get used to this place already?"
"You make me forget. But I'll always remember everything in the end. It's a proof that Madoka never give up."
Homura's eyes twitched. "I will never give up either."
"Because you're that kind of person," Sayaka sighed. "You'll make me forget again, right?"
"I'll make sure you never remember this time."
Yeah, good luck with that.
Sayaka sipped her tea. "Madoka will never forgive you when she remembers."
"She won't remember. And you will forget too."
"I wonder how many times we talk like this," Sayaka chuckled. "I wonder how many time I break your heart already? How many more times it will be?"
She laughed, like a madman.
She remembered now. The darkness, it wasn't Homura's. It was herself. It wasn't even the Witch. Sayaka was a girl of Misfortune. Just like every other Magical Girl.
"That red ribbon," Sayaka played with Homura's dark beautiful hair. "It really suited you."
When she woke up in her home, she felt like she had forgotten something important. The sky outside was dark purple, the color of someone's eyes.
.
.