Madoka stares blankly at the ceiling, hands clasped over her stomach. Rain rattles the windows, the occasional rumble of thunder filling her ears. The room is dark, illuminated only by brief flashes of lightning, cracking like a whip across the sky. She sighs, rolling onto her side to watch the play of shadows along the wall. The bed is too wide.
The mattress should dip—two bodies squeezing into either side of her, curling up like kittens. A flash of lightning, and Lan muffling her shriek in Madoka's shoulder, Madoka smiling fondly, running a hand through her hair while Muginami laughs, leaning over Madoka to pat Lan's cheek. There, there, Lan-chan. Lan lifting her head to give a watery glare. More laughter, not just Muginami's now, and they're a tangle of limbs come morning, strands of blue and orange hair kissing her cheeks.
Madoka would admire them in the soft morning light, heart swelling to an almost painful degree, and in the darkness of her room Madoka feels it crawl up her stomach, choke at her throat.
She never knew silence could be so loud.
(Good night, Lan; good night, Muginami.)
(Good night, Madoka.) (Night, Madoka-chan!)
Madoka closes her eyes. The only thing whispering to her now is the wind.