A Cursive Memory:

Further Seems Forever

In the end, my wish—

'to become someone she can depend on'

—just wasn't granted.

"There's no way you could understand how I feel."

My mask of indifference shattered into a beautiful mess back then,

right along with all semblance of composure I'd been maintaining.

I stumbled towards you, my deepest emotions exposed by what was probably a desperate, anguished expression.

'I wonder how pathetic she thinks I am.'

I threw my arms around your neck, despite knowing I had no right.

You stood stiff and silent, and didn't return the embrace.

From the start, I understood that my own weakness was my only obstacle.

And, naively undeterred... I believed I could become strong enough for you to rely on.

Only while I held you during my confession did I 'accept' that I would never be.

... Even knowing I had no right to act like I deserved you...

My grip tightened around you.

Protectively.

Possessively...

Ironic, because I can neither protect nor possess you.

"You think I'm weird." I mumbled into your hair, while thinking thoughts too honest to voice.

'You... should hate me. I'm... I'm poison. I slaughter your friends without remorse. I watch you suffer...

and... I make you suffer.'

Your lack of reaction was reaction enough; proof, in my eyes, that I was always

and would always be

Hopelessly good for nothing.

"I... probably lost my way a long time ago... You became my only guiding light."

I felt you tense even more in my arms, and tried not to care.

'...How dishonest.

For me to say such things now,

pretending to be unaware that this is really a 'farewell...'

is truly unforgivable.'

I felt like drawing you closer, but pushed away from you instead. Keeping your surprised, anxious, confused expression at least an arm's length away was probably best.

That action was almost like a symbol for the distance I purposely forced between us, now.

'I don't need to be her friend. I don't need to be her lover.

I only need to be her guardian.

And after this...'

Acknowledging those things, I could finish smothering my selfish feelings.

And with that, I looked you dead in the face and told a blatant lie, like "I don't care if my words reach you anymore."

The flicker of emotion in your eyes at those bitter words brought the dawning of a cold comprehension:

Armed with nothing but my useless ability and useless prescience, something like this is beyond impossible.

In the end, someone like me would never be enough

to save you from yourself.

I planned to say something serious, like

"Hey.

After I finally rescue you from 'destiny,' or 'god...'

Forget about me.'

But those words died in my throat when I noticed how sad you looked...

"... Homura-chan."

After that...

I couldn't meet your gaze anymore.

"Don't you get it? All I've done is create the persona of someone that should have been strong enough to support you...

I wanted to become a Knight who would save you from every danger.

Never failing, never looking back...

I have the likeness of such a person now, but... not the substance.

By now, my original wish—

'to redo our meeting and subvert fate's plans for you...'

—at this point, that dream has already decayed beyond all recognition.

I was only given enough power to fight endlessly for an unattainable future...

To make you suffer unfairly.

Forever."

...

...

A few seconds passed in silence.

I felt warm, slender fingers slide onto my face. I let you tilt my head towards you, because who could resist a touch so gentle?

You slowly, softly, brushed away the last of my tears, though I hadn't even realized I cried.

And then.

Looking straight into my eyes, you smiled as if I hadn't said anything so cheerless.

You trailed a finger over my cheek and whispered

"That's fine. I believe in you."

Hey—

Is this kind of life

really acceptable?

"Hey, Homura-chan..."

I wasn't a masochist.

Putting myself through this was the least I could do, every time I failed her.

"I guess I was... really selfish, huh?"

Over the years, I grew coldly accustomed to watching cruel, brutal deaths... Even more so to the act of murdering former friends without remorse.

But, the soft sound of her groans stubbornly refused to become any more familiar to me.

They pervaded every fiber of my existence, seeming to permeate the very air around us.. I would hear them in my sleep, later, wake up and run to her house at some unholy hour.

"So... Forgive me... for not regretting it? Ha ha..."

Madoka was hurting, so everything was wrong with the world.

Now, she thrashed violently in my arms. She cried out into the acrid air, her agony ripping through the stillness of death in this ruined part of town.

That awful sound was haunting me already. Her screams were an eternal echo in my mind, ever-slicing at the fragile threads that held me together.

I closed my eyes, trying hard not to look. She groaned and I squeezed them shut tighter, not wanting to see her face contorted in unimaginable pain.

I couldn't breathe, and I felt like my skull would split open at any moment.

'How does she feel, then?'

Her hand was clammy and cold. Her lips were dry and cracked, her breath hot and ragged on my skin.

My hope, my resolve. The remnants of my humanity.

Cracking as sharply as her Soul Gem.

'Could I really call it living if she doesn't exist in this world?'

I was falling into oblivion right along with her.

But...

Because someone like Madoka could never die with regrets.

I couldn't let myself be her first.

I opened my eyes, and black spots dotted my sight.

Another deep fracture cut across her soul gem, and another fissure ripped itself painfully deeper within my heart.

Four... five... six... seven, eight, nine,ten,eleven,twelve! All those Grief Seeds I'd acquired and saved just for her and this awful, godforsaken moment... no match for Kriemhild Gretchen.

Fate had decided and its judgment was final: Gretchen would be born and Madoka would die, and then the world would die and be 'saved.' Or Madoka would die, and the world would die another day.

If I had my way, every life on every world would end before any harm came to Madoka.

She called my name, her voice a broken, breathless gasp that hitched as yet another tremor shot through her body.

She cried out again, panicking as it became harder for her to breathe. I squeezed her hand, and she asked me to hold her.

Didn't she remember she was already in my arms...?

I wasn't a masochist. There was no way to comfort her and trying only made letting go that much harder. There was no way to soothe a hollow, surreal pain that had nothing to do with nerve endings or heartache.

I could have, should have left.

The options available to me were more than clear: I could either lose myself to despair here, or I could save Madoka in the next timeline.

Staying and watching this would only make rational thinking harder... it would only make looking back to find a better way more heart-wrenching.

'She's... getting worse. It'll be time, soon...'

As if to confirm that thought, she sharply twisted and squirmed, arched her back and her legs... I held her firmly, and she struggled against me as if wanting to thrash harder. Helpless to escape the source of her torment, like a caterpillar being torn apart by a swarm of ants...

'Why couldn't it be me, instead.'

I was vaguely aware of my bones splintering as she squeezed my hand with inhuman strength.

The pain was dull and muted, and in spite of everything, I gave her a gentle squeeze back.

I wasn't numb. I was struggling to keep my head above a deeper, emotional pain as it washed me away.

In response, she stopped crushing my hand and called my name again.

Softly, weakly, hoarsely.

But not desperately, anymore.

I opened my eyes and reluctantly looked down at her face.

My head spun and my heart sank at the sight of her smile.

She tried to comfort me.

Typical, typical Madoka.

My throat tightened, my chest tightened, my stomach tightened. I was sure that I was losing my own struggle with Despair, if not surrendering. That I was drowning in that pain, now.

The very kindness that defined her made me nauseous.

That signature smile of hers made me suffer, made me hate everything. For the first time, I felt only spite towards the world she wanted to save, and I wished only for the total annihilation of all that she sacrificed herself to protect.

Tears, angry and bitter, dripped harshly onto Madoka's face. She reached up and gently brushed the wet streaks on my cheeks away.

"I'm sorry..."

"Why?" Was all I could choke out.

Amusement shone dimly in her clouded eyes, as if we were having a normal, playful conversation, and I had just said something she wanted to tease me for.

"It hurts me... to hurt you." And her voice was laced with nothing but honesty, and...

I didn't want to hear that.

It hurt too much to hear that.

"But... in the end, it was okay... So... I'm happy..."

Her words were a whisper, audible only to me. I was holding her so close and she was clinging to me so tightly, and... Suddenly, she was too calm, too limp, and I couldn't bear to see her already-strained smile waver like that.

She whispered something into my chest, but I didn't want to make another promise.

Another promise I would surely break.

She asked if she could ask me something. I bit my lip until I tasted copper, but nodded nonetheless.

I could have, should have left already...

I didn't want to be the one holding a gun to her chest, vision blurry and hands trembling.

"Homura-chan... I'm really glad, you know...?

Because... I..."

I wasn't worthy of whatever she would have said next.

And stopping her there didn't satisfy me. It wasn't enough, and I wasn't okay like she thought, because my name didn't deserve to be the last thing on her lips.

But I had to stay with her until the end.

When you make those selfish decisions

I wonder—

Do you consider my feelings at all?

This world was now devoid of color as its only shining light flickered out.

I stood, and strained to tear my eyes away from the peaceful expression the pink-haired corpse wore.

With a seemingly-casual gesture, I forced the damned, worthless world around me to dissolve into white lines and grey light.

I took a shaky step forward, followed by another; My destination was clear, but the path to reach it was uncertain.

'Don't look back.'

It always amazed me, the indescribable clarity that overwhelmed me as I walked this lonely tunnel.

'Don't ever look back.'

Amidst the deafening roar of silence... surrounded by the spinning, raging turbulence of time, space, and chaos... My thoughts were somehow robbed of my otherwise ever-present anxiety.

I was formulating plans, evaluating strategies, analyzing failures, knowing that I wouldn't carry any of what I figured out here over to the next timeline. I would only have a massive sense of loss, like I forgot something that was profoundly important.

What do I need to focus on to keep Madoka safe? The question was simple, and its answers were obvious as ever.

Kyuubey? Even when I manage to keep it away from Madoka for the entire month, on that day she always-

Oh... It had to be Walpurgisnacht, then. But... my powers were so limited. I couldn't defeat it on my own and Madoka wouldn't survive even if she succeeded-

Of course. I only had to successfully manipulate those three so we could defeat Walpurgis together, and Madoka wouldn't be so exhausted afterward... But ultimately, they were all so unstable, so unpredictable, so unreliable... There was no way we could depend on any them when it mattered most.

So... what then? What other factors could there be? What was I missing?

My pace slowed ever so slightly. In the back of my reeling mind, an alarm told me that was dangerous. If I didn't keep a certain speed, I'd arrive too late. And if I got there after my month was over, that was it. I couldn't go back again. Similarly, if I ever stopped completely, when I started again an eternity would have passed and I'd awaken to the abyss of space...

Those facts were as plain to me as any other basic instinct.

'I need to eat. I need to sleep.

Within this tunnel, I need to keep walking.'

There was something else there.

It was hiding in plain sight, bubbling beneath the surface of my understanding, festering just outside of the range of my awareness.

Different variations of Madoka's last words floated into my mind from seemingly nowhere, and my next steps faltered.

"I don't know, Homura-chan... I don't know what'll happen, but... I can't let you get hurt because of me."

My body felt heavier as the gravity of a sudden realization seized my mind.

"I'm glad you were safe in the end... So it's alright, okay?"

I staggered a bit, but just shook my head slightly upon regaining my balance.

"Don't cry... We did our best, right...?"

I stopped walking, unable to help it.

"Hey... Smile?"

The irony almost made me angry. Almost made me cry.

All this time, and there the answer was.

Right there. All along.

My mind kept repeating the same thing, spitefully ignoring the redundancy of doing so... because as obvious as it was it hadn't occurred to me at all.

I smiled bitterly at the thought of someone - God, or Alien, or whatever - looking down, amused. Laughing at my ignorance.

And then I remembered that I wasn't supposed to stop.

Horrified and terrified, my feet were like lead, and it took more strength of will to get moving again than I realized I had.

I staggered forward, my footsteps slow and heavy now, my arms outstretched towards a light that had quickly grown fainter.

All this time...

I'd already known the answer.

I reached the light just as it flickered out. Whatever surface I'd been plodding forward on vanished at that moment, plunging me into what seemed like an endless expanse of empty space.

Infinite, abysmal darkness.

I automatically knew I was falling into an eternal sleep. Permanent death.

And my final thoughts were of you.

I've always sworn

'Things will definitely be different...' so carelessly.

And nothing has changed.

Now... for just once,

I'll believe in this promise.

A/N

Was that a cliffhanger?

Please excuse the following ridiculously-long author's note. I just haven't been posting much of anything of late, so I'd really like to talk to you guys.

Honestly, this was nothing more than a way for me to flush out some of my emotions while trying to break an awfully persistent case of writer's block. Intended to be purely cathartic. I'm currently debating whether I should actually publish it here, in fact. Soooo, I was really less concerned about writing something "good" and more concerned about writing something. That said, please review this as honestly and as critically as possible; I promise that my massive ego can handle it, and even if I was sensitive, it never hurts those who want to improve to be humbled once in a while. I think I write better when in an emotional state, so I'd like to get an accurate idea of where I really am in your eyes. Whoever you are.

My style has undergone yet another substantial change here... at least, it's noticeable to me. I'm not sure I'm a fan of it, so I really want to know what you thought. Did it seem melodramatic, or cliche/trite? Did you stop reading and start skimming at any point? I ask because I find myself doing that a lot while reading good but overly-wordy writing. I didn't want to bother anyone with beta-ing something that isn't formal at all, so yeah. Everything about this was just completely raw, and I only made the barest of attempts to censor myself in terms of self-insertion.

Anyway, about the story. This is a prologue that was written after I wrote a mildly fluffy first chapter. I wasn't very comfortable starting the story off with Homura meeting Madoka in a new timeline, so I thought it'd be better to introduce Homura as she's leaving her latest failure behind; for me, this was less about direct action, and more about psychology and emotions.

In my opinion, this is a slightly different spin on Homura's feelings than what I've usually seen... I do hope this wasn't be boring to the point of being unreadable. That said, whether or not the actual first chapter of this story gets posted completely depends on whether or not this style I've adopted is good enough at conveying emotions in a way that actually connects with readers on some level... hopefully, I'm invoking some genuine sympathy (or empathy, if I did really well). It's probably hard for most to actually relate to how Homura feels about Madoka, so I'm not even expecting that much here.

Pathos, pathos, pathos. Using pathos properly. That's what I was trying to do.