I own nothing.


The stars glitter coldly. The earth is gone. Everything is gone. There is nothing, nothing at all in all of existence, except those glittering lights, and them.

Homura's lost a lot, and has thrown away even more. She cast aside friendship, happiness, all hopes for a future of her own, to save the life of one girl, one girl who has meant everything to her. One girl who she failed, over and over again. Her resolve to save her doubled for every time she watched her die and her soul explode into the Witch of Mercy.

But perhaps, somewhere along the line, she threw Madoka away too.

Back in the time when Madoka didn't cower away from her, she held out her hand. Constantly she did this, asking Homura if she wanted to go with her to the movies, or to the mall, or to just hang out like friends do. Her smiles were bright like sunlight, her eyes sparkling with the breadth of a thousand forgotten worlds, and her outstretched hand holding the promise of so much more.

And Homura always said no.

She had too much to do. She was trying to save Madoka; she didn't have time to do these things that all the other girls seemed to love so much. She winked out of existence before Madoka's eyes, and tried to ignore the hurt that shivered in her flesh.

Now, the tables are turned.

Madoka's body is no longer flesh but the host of the firmament, heaven trapped in what once was skin.

Madoka's wish has spared the suffering of millions across time and space, and to pay for it her own existence will fizzle and blink away like a candle with its flame put out. She will become hope, but she will no longer be human, and she will always be alone. Homura will never see her again.

No—no, that can't be right.

They drift away from each other, gravity finding its bearings again and pulling Homura back towards a world that won't have Madoka in it.

You were the only one…

Homura stretches out a hand desperately.

Take my hand. Don't do this. Don't leave me! Please!

Madoka smiles.

Now, it's Homura who holds out her hand, and Madoka who refuses to take it. She can only watch as she's consumed by the host of the stars, fading away into nothing and ether. Time seems to stand still in the last moment, as their eyes lock, but Homura no longer claims dominion over time, and the illusion is only her own mind clinging desperately to what's left.

Then, just like that, she's gone, and Homura is left on the wrong side of eternity.

There is pain that cleaves her heart down the middle with no mercy and no finesse, the sum of all the worlds she left burned punishing her for caring more about Madoka than she did about them. Agony burns her blood and cuts the breath from her lungs. She can't even find a name for the nature of her tears.

But she threw away this chance long ago.

So her broken heart won't let her complain.