Chapter 9: How to kill Thanatos
Though she knew she didn't act like it, Kyouko was actually the deep thinker type.
She was walking home from the grocery store one weekend, a small clump of plastic bags hanging from the ends of her fingers. It sort of reminded her of her older days when she had still been out on the streets, when she would have stolen the sweets of her choice from a convenience store or jacked it from some unfortunate passerby if fortune allowed it. She didn't do stuff like that anymore, of course, as the past couple years had matured her past that, not to mention that Homura would never approve.
The more she thought about it, she doubted any of the few street rats she had associated with back then would recognize her immediately anymore. She had started dressing better, for one, though this was mostly upon Homura's insistence. It wasn't like Kyouko hated dressing well or 'looking nice.' It just took more effort than it was worth. But beyond that, she had taken up the habit of cutting her hair occasionally, and though it was still long it wasn't the waist length mane it had been in the past. She didn't always put it up in a ponytail, either.
If anything, she didn't appear as threatening as she used to, though this didn't really bother her. She could still hand out an ass kicking to mostly anyone who decided to pick a fight with her.
Swinging the plastic bags on her fingers as she walked, Kyouko hummed as she looked forward to eating all the sweets she had bought. She had inadvertently ended up getting way more candy than Homura would have wanted her to, but the time traveler should have been aware of the risk that came with sending the redhead shopping without supervision. Besides, she knew that when it really came down to it Homura could never resist her.
Deciding to hell with patience, she dug out a small box of Pocky and began chewing on one right there, before making a turn around the next corner.
Something caught the corner of her eye, and she felt herself stopping to look.
A small knot of people was gathered around the edge of the sidewalk, staring down at something on the road, their feet and bodies hiding what it was. Frowning, Kyouko turned and walked up to the onlookers, wondering what was going on. They were also whispering and murmuring to each other, shifting nervously as if unsure of what to do.
She elbowed her way to the front, though no one seemed particularly insistent on staying where they were.
When she finally got to the edge of the sidewalk, she understood why.
Roadkill. A dead dog was splayed across the tarmac a few feet from the gutter, its entire body a mess of bones and entrails. It was immediately obvious that the animal was the victim of a speeding vehicle, from the way the center of its spine depressed where the tire had crushed it, the way its blood had sprayed around its corpse. It was a sorry sight, to be sure.
Kyouko continued to gnaw on her Pocky, taking in the view. It was disgusting, no doubt, and she definitely felt sorry for it, but it didn't elicit any visceral response from her. She had seen worse at a closer proximity.
The people huddled behind her continued to murmurer amongst one another, debating whether they should do something, whether they should move the dog's body off the street. It was awfully close to oncoming traffic, after all. There was no point in letting it get run over again. Kyouko tried to ignore them. She knew none of them were actually going to do it. Ordinary people were all talk.
Still, she thought, it was sad that the dog had to go out like that. The animal had probably had plans for the day. Food to eat. Cats to chase. Maybe even puppies to take care of. She would be pretty pissed if her entire life had to end just because one asshole in a car wasn't thought enough to swerve out of the way.
Well, not that a car would be enough to kill her, but still. The more she thought about it, the more unfair it seemed that the animal had to die. It didn't even get to die for a good reason. If that was her mangled corpse sitting out there on the road, would Homura just pass by without doing anything?
That particular thought motivated her, and she swallowed the last of her Pocky before dusting her hands off.
She could feel the people behind her staring as she stepped out onto the street, keeping her hands jammed in her pockets. She didn't why they were looking at her like that. She was just doing what they had suggested earlier. Was she just strange because she had the ability to act?
Squatting before the dog's body, she scooped it up in her arms, standing up so that she could cradle it gently against her chest. It really had been hit hard; she could see inside the animal's carcass, and she was getting blood all over her shirt. But luckily nothing was actually falling out of the animal, and she turned back to the sidewalk a moment later, parting the onlookers standing there like the Red Sea.
As she walked away from them, she wondered why they had even stopped to look in the first place, if they weren't going to do anything. And then stare at her for actually acting, to boot. Were they just struck by an unapologetic display of death? Were they thinking the same thing she would have thought, which was shit, I'm gonna die one day too? Maybe that wasn't their literal thought. But it was probably some part of it.
In a way she couldn't really blame them. Death was fucking scary. The thought that everything, the ability to see, to hear or move or love, was merely temporary was undoubtedly terrifying. One day everything you took for granted was going to go black, and there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it.
There was a park near the place where the dog had died, and she reached it a few minutes later. Ignoring the playground scattered with a few stray kids, she walked to the largest tree in the area and set the animal's body down, before twisting the ring on her finger.
A smaller version of her spear extended from the piece of jewelry, and with it she began to dig. The kids on the playground were still there, but what were they going to do? Call the cops because some chick had a magical ring that could spit out a super sharp shovel?
She kept digging until she had made a big enough hole to fit the dog in. Dismissing her spear, she picked it up and set it down in its new grave, taking the time to position it so that it looked like it was just sleeping. After giving its head a brief pat, she began filling the hole back in, until there was just a pile of upturned earth sitting in front of her.
Then she sat there on the grass, staring at the grave.
She wondered why she cared so much. It was just a dog. She had never even had a pet before. Animals probably got run over every damn day in Mitakihara. In the grand scheme of things it didn't really matter. She wasn't in a particularly bad mood today either. If anything she had been looking forward to eating sweets.
Or maybe that was why. It was a moment where she had been so caught up in living life that she had forgotten about death. That was how most people went from day to day, probably. Otherwise they'd all go completely insane. Thinking about the fact that you were definitely going to die one day would probably make her more than a little bonkers.
Sighing, she dusted her hands off again and stood up. Her work was done; there was no point in hanging around here.
Kyouko was about to leave when she noticed the kids staring at her.
They were standing still beneath the monkey bars, their wide irises fixed on her form. Only then did it occur to her that her entire front was stained red by the dog's blood, and her hands were similarly soiled. Shit, to them it probably looked like she was the one who killed it.
Even without that thought, she probably still looked like hell. Covered in blood with a weird look in her eye. Anyone would fear her instinctively. Why though? Because it was blood? Because bleeding meant death?
Turning away from the kids, she left the park.
It occurred to her on the way home that she existed between two planes.
The first plane was, obviously, the one of mortals. Ordinary humans. People. Whatever. Though Kyouko considered herself to be largely human in many aspects, she also knew that a scientist would never officially classify her as a 'homo sapien.' She was something other than human. Whether she was more than human or less was another question entirely.
The second plane, then, was the one of gods. Take any god you like. The ones people still believed in or the ones no one worshiped anymore, it didn't matter. Maybe if she had been born a thousand years ago she would have seemed like a god to normal humans. A spear wielding, flame haired maniac with superhuman endurance and a ravenous appetite. Yeah, she probably would've had a couple shrines here and there.
People like her existed between these two worlds. They were like gods but mortal. The most important difference between a man and a god was mortality. Humans were transient while gods were forever.
So what did death mean, to the puella magi?
Then she remembered, quite suddenly during her bus ride home, that there was another plane, one that existed between men and gods; it was the plane of humans who had become gods, though at this point she was only aware of one.
Madoka Kaname.
Throughout her years as a magical girl, she had heard countless snatches about the mysterious Goddess, most of them from Homura, but she had never heard the entire story. All Kyouko knew was that Madoka probably existed, and that she offered salvation to magical girls, which to her felt more than a little too convenient to be true.
Could Madoka die?
Her brain was rattled when the bus hit a rough spot, and she swayed gently in place, her arm hanging from a handle attached to the roof.
There was an old man sitting near the front of the bus. The first thing she noticed about him was just how incredibly ancient he looked. His bald head was so wrinkled it looked like a desert from far above, its sands rippled by the wind. He was bent over with age, and his hands shook passively even when they weren't doing anything, like his body was struggling immensely with the singular burden of life.
That old man was going to die one day too. Sooner than later, no less. Was he afraid of his imminent death? She had no way of knowing. She had never been old. She had never known anyone old intimately enough to ask. Would she feel fear if she ever reached that age? She wasn't sure. After all, she wasn't even sure of magical girls were mortal.
This is so stupid, she thought, closing her eyes again. There was no point in her thinking about this so much. She was never going to find an answer. Where had this even come from, anyway? Was it because of that dog?
Or maybe it went back further than that. Maybe it went back to the fact that she was going to church again, even though she didn't really believe in a god anymore. Maybe she was trying to understand her place, their place, in the universe. Puella magi had originally been created to destroy demons and combat entropy. If they weren't doing that, for what reason were they supposed to exist?
The bus stopped near her apartment, and she got off after letting the old man go first.
Maybe it was time for her to hear the story from its source.
Homura was on the second floor balcony when Kyouko got home, which was where the time traveler usually was. The girl was working intently on something, and didn't seem to notice her lover approaching from behind.
But of course, it was impossible to sneak up on Homura.
"Welcome back," the girl murmured, not taking her eyes off the task at hand. She was making one of those models of a toy robot, the ones that had like a million pieces and required actually crazy glue to put together properly. It seemed like a ridiculously menial and time consuming hobby to her, but Homura enjoyed things that required intense concentration.
"Hey," Kyouko grunted, sliding the screen door shut behind her. She lingered by the table Homura was working on, not sure of what to say, fidgeting in place.
Her lover's eyes flitted briefly in her direction. "Did you get the groceries?"
Kyouko blinked, then realized she had left them on the sidewalk before she picked up the dog. Pressing her forehead against the railing and cursing, she said, "Uh…no. I sort of forgot."
Homura frowned at that, using a tiny brush to dab glue on an even tinier piece of plastic. "What do you mean you forgot? Isn't that the whole reason why you went out?"
The redhead didn't respond, instead pacing back and forth, obviously restless.
Homura was growing impatient with this strange behavior. Putting down her brush, she turned and said, "Kyouko-"
"I want to hear the story," Kyouko said, suddenly interrupting her. She had tossed her bloodstained shirt in the wash before coming up here, and was in nothing but a tank top. She was shivering in the April chill.
Homura paused. "What story?"
"The story you promised you would tell me. You know what I mean." the redhead walked over and put her hands on the table. "The one about Madoka Kaname. The one about the Goddess."
Homura gazed back at the girl for a moment, then pursed her lips and leaned back in her chair. "What brought this on?"
Kyouko bit her lip. "Nothing, really. I was just wondering."
"Mmm. I don't believe you."
The redhead hung her head in defeat. She should have known. Homura knew her too well. Grabbing the second chair, she took a seat across from her lover, wringing her fingers thoughtfully.
"I don't know. I've just been thinking a lot lately, you know?" she said, sighing. "I guess that's what happens when you don't have demons to kill. You start getting weird thoughts in your head. You start thinking about stupid shit."
Homura just frowned at her, slipping her glasses off her face, which she had been using to work on the robot. "What are you talking about, Kyouko? Did something happen?"
"Well, there was this dog. Roadkill. And then this old guy on the bus." When Homura just blinked at her, the redhead scratched aggressively at her head and grunted. "Never mind that. I've just been…trying to figure out our place in this life, you know? Like, what's the end game for people like us? Where do we end up? What does death mean to us?"
Homura watched her for a moment, then sighed softly. "Okay, I'll tell you," she said. "It isn't something I like to remember, but you have every right to know. But I'll have to warn you that it isn't a nice story by any means. Some of the things I tell you might not make you very happy."
Kyouko clenched her fingers.
"That's fine."
Some minutes later, Kyouko blinked, only to realize that a tear had fallen from her eye.
Homura cast her a sidelong glance, smiling blandly when she saw the redhead crying. She had just finished the main brunt of her story, explaining why multiple timelines had existed, explaining the reason why she had to save Madoka, and the endless cycles of suffering she had endured to meet that end.
"I…" Kyouko said, but she didn't know why. She wiped absentmindedly at her eyes, still trying to wrap her head around what she had just heard. "I…oh my god, Homura. To think that you actually went through all that…I can't…"
The time traveler just smiled again, reaching over to take the other girl's hand. "It's fine. It was a long time ago."
"That doesn't matter!" Kyouko snapped, before checking herself. But still, she couldn't believe it. It was such an unbelievable amount of pain that Homura had shouldered for countless repetitions. She didn't even care that Homura just told her that there really was a Goddess, or that there had been multiple timelines where she had died.
She had always known that Homura was strong. But there was always sort of mystery as to where that strength had come from. Now Kyouko understood. She understood, and it hurt so much to think that Homura had felt such despair in her life.
Leaving her seat, she yanked Homura out of her own chair and pulled her into a tight hug.
Homura just laughed softly, hands coming up to grasp her lover's waist. "Why are you the one crying? It's just a story, Kyouko. In this universe, none of it ever even happened."
"Shut up. You know it happened," Kyouko growled, still crying a little bit. She might be weeping over something that was already said and done, but she didn't care. People cried over gravestones all the time, and there was nothing they could do about that. "I can't believe you could just carry that around for this long without telling anyone."
Homura smiled and laid her head on Kyouko's chest. "It wasn't that hard. I knew She was watching, always. So I was never alone. And I had you. That was more than enough for me."
They stayed like that for a minute, swaying gently back and forth. A sensitive Kyouko wasn't so bad either. Homura loved that she could adore multiple sides of the redhead.
"And as for what you asked earlier…" she continued, rubbing small circles into Kyouko's back, "There is an afterlife. Madoka's creed is to save all magical girls from ultimate despair. She is the Law of the Cycle. You can trust her, Kyouko."
"But what sort of afterlife is it?" the redhead asked, resting her chin on Homura's head. "If we both go there, will we be able to see each other? Or are we just going to be suspended in some sort of limbo?"
Homura's fingers paused briefly on Kyouko's back before continuing. "Well, I'm actually not so sure about that," she admitted. "I don't know the specifics."
"If we aren't killed by despair, will magical girls live forever?" the redhead wondered aloud. "Will we ever die? Do our bodies age?"
Homura sighed against her. "I don't know, Kyouko."
"I know. I'm sorry." the redhead pursed her lips. "I don't expect you to know. It's just…I don't want to die before I've done everything I can with this life. Magical girls are the epitome of desire and regret. I don't want to add to that truth. And sometimes, I feel so out of place. I don't want to leave you alone, either."
Homura slipped away from her, turning to look out at Mitakihara. "Unfortunately, Kyouko, no amount of life is ever going to be enough," she pointed out. "No one ever reaches a point in their existence where they decide they've lived for long enough, and are completely fine with dying on the spot. It's natural instinct to want to live. The benefits of that are obvious, of course, but it comes with the side effect of giving us a morbid fear of death."
She paused for a moment, as if considering the validity of her next words.
"And if it gives you any measure of comfort, our souls are eternally linked now. So if one of us passes on, the other is likely to follow soon enough."
Kyouko had never thought about that before. But it made sense. If their life force was synonymous, it should be impossible for one of them to live without the other. It was poetic, in a sense. And a great relief, strangely enough.
Homura leaned back against the railing, pushing her elbows up onto the metal. She regarded Kyouko lovingly, in a way that was only possible in life.
"If you ask me, being afraid of death means you've got something special in life that you're afraid of losing. And that's a good thing. It means you're living your life properly. When we were hunting demons, it didn't really matter to us whether we lived or died, did it?" she said. "So don't worry about it too much, Kyouko. We're just afraid of death because we don't understand it. And at least we know there is an afterlife. Right now, I'm here. Right now, we're here. And I'd rather be caught up in living life than obsessed with fearing death."
Kyouko thought back to what she had experienced earlier, the jarring feeling of seeing the dead dog when she had been thinking about nothing but her sweets. In a way it was where two extremes had met. The intoxication of life and the inevitability of death.
"If you think about it, death is the natural state of life," Homura pointed out. "Our existence, the fact that we're breathing right now, is on its own a struggle. Death is equilibrium, and so it is inevitable. But that's what makes living special."
Kyouko found herself smiling. "Yeah, I guess."
Homura sneered. "You guess? Is that all I get for my philosophical musings?"
"Why, did you have something else in mind?" Kyouko asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
Homura just rolled her eyes. "Does your mind only have two tracks?"
"Which tracks do you mean, exactly?"
"Food and sex, namely."
"I can live with that," Kyouko murmured, before tugging Homura back inside, to their shared bed.
She really could.
A/N
I don't really know where I was going with this. Just some random musings that came out, since I mostly just started writing this chapter without any plans in mind. I hope it was an interest read, nonetheless.
I might update again within the next few days.
Also, as a side note, thanks for the positive reviews on Mami and Kiku's arc! I happy some people enjoyed the closure on their story. They'll appear sporadically in this story from now on. (Maybe even a "first time" one shot?)
Thanks for reading!
~Banshee
