She understands that people cope in different ways.
She understands this, but it doesn't hurt any less when Homura pushes away from her, and disappears into the bedroom to hide her tears.
She fidgets; she nervously waits, first on the couch, and then by pacing in the living room, thoughts going round in circles as she debates going in after her, or leaving her alone.
Her choice is made for her when she hears a sound down the hall, and Homura finally emerges from the room. Madoka stops pacing, and takes a moment to process what she's seeing.
Out of all things, she did not expect to see Homura dressed for the day, glasses now exchanged for her contacts as her tattered side bag hangs over her shoulder.
Her eyes flicker to the clock, and they widen when she realizes that Homura's going to class.
Almost two hours early.
"...Homura-chan."
Homura lowers her head and slowly pads over to the kitchen; Madoka follows her.
"...I'll swing by the market, after class," Homura tells her as she starts stuffing her notebooks haphazardly into her bag. "Did you need anything?"
She stands behind her, wringing her hands. Once Homura is done and her bag is zipped, she turns to Madoka in question.
"Madoka?"
Her normal pale complexion verges on almost ghostly white, and she can see traces of her tears in her still swollen eyes.
She swallows whatever trepidation she has, and finally rocks forward, arms reaching out to gather Homura in her arms.
"Homura-chan..."
Her body is stiff, and when Homura tries to pull away, she holds on tightly.
"Madoka... I—need to—"
She refuses to let go. "Homura-chan... maybe... you shouldn't go to class today."
Homura inhales deeply. Madoka tenses, wondering—worrying that Homura will push her away.
"...What—else—would I do then...? Stay here, and—" she cuts herself off, gulping in another deep breath to stop the overflow of emotions.
Tentatively, Madoka moves back, enough for a glimpse of Homura's face.
She's glaring at the floor—and who knows what thoughts are running through her mind.
Madoka glances once more to the clock, before she pulls Homura close again.
"Let's—go out then. We'll—grab lunch, and then head to the market at the plaza," she says softly.
"...You—should be studying—I can—"
She shakes her head. "You're more important than that, Homura-chan."
The seconds tick by, and she's waiting for that inevitable rejection. Instead, she feels Homura shift, before thin arms return her hug.
"...I—wouldn't mind..."
She nods, smiling sadly, "let's go to lunch then, Homura-chan."
Homura closes her eyes. "...what—about the coffee...?"
Sometimes, like right now, Madoka wants to knock some sense into Homura's head, hoping that it could somehow set her priorities straight.
"Leave it. We can freeze it later—or reheat it in the microwave. It—doesn't matter." Madoka tells her.
Hesitantly, Homura nods. "...Okay."
/
They walk in silence, Homura's hand clasped tightly in hers as they make their way through the streets.
Every so often, she glances to Homura—in nervousness—in reassurance that she's still there. She's still afraid she's going to break away from her any second.
Another glance, and instead of that passive profile with that sharp jawline, she finds a pair of lavender eyes staring back.
She jumps, startled at being caught. Homura stops walking, and brushes her hair back with her free hand.
"Is... there something wrong, Madoka?"
"Ah..." She moves to the side, letting a stranger pass. They're given a curious look, before they're ignored as the stranger continues down the street.
"Madoka...?"
Madoka shakes her head. "I—was just..."
She feels a squeeze on her hand, and then a tug as Homura resumes walking.
"I'm fine," she murmurs softly.
Madoka opens her mouth, but the small smile Homura gives her stops her words.
"...Even if I'm not, I will be." Once more, Homura faces forward, her smile dropping away almost immediately.
Madoka sighs softly and lengthens her stride to fall into step with Homura.
\\
There's only a handful of restaurants that they know of since it's cheaper and healthier to cook and eat at home. On the other side of the city, there's a small, quaint cafe that Homura had introduced Madoka to a few months back that she had instantly taken a liking to. The atmosphere is cozy, and their menu is simple, filled with sandwiches and drinks that are on par, yet different, than their usual coffee shop.
And most importantly, it's not too expensive.
It's been a while since they had last visited, and there are no recognizable workers seen when they enter. All the tables inside are occupied, and the host offers them a table on the patio. They don't mind soaking in the sunlight, and they follow their waitress out the side entrance to their seats.
Three out of the four tables are filled with customers, and they're lead to the last empty table. Once seated, they're handed their menus, and the waitress bows, excusing herself, and giving them a few minutes alone to decide.
From behind her menu, Madoka glances at Homura who's scouring over the specials.
Homura looks up, and blinks when she finds Madoka's eyes on her. "Madoka...?"
She squeaks and lowers her eyes to her menu. "Yes, Homura-chan?"
"...Would you like to split one of the lunch specials? I ate earlier, so you can have my side dish...?"
She nods. "That's fine." She flips the page, and immediately skims the drinks. "Oh, Homura-chan—they have a new drink."
"Hm...?" Homura turns her menu. She quirks an eyebrow at Madoka. "...That sounds..."
"Interesting," Madoka finishes as she nods. "I think I'll order it. What will you get, Homura-chan?"
Homura shakes her head. "I'll—order a coffee blend, just in case you want to switch with me if you dislike your drink."
Madoka sticks out her tongue, before she once again browses the menu.
It takes a few more minutes until the waitress returns, and they rattle off their orders to her.
"I'll be back with your drinks in a short while."
"Thank you," Madoka murmurs, watching as the waitress disappears back into the restaurant.
She turns her attention to Homura, who is now absently observing the few sparrows that dart around the planters surrounding the patio.
Her eyes soften, and she rests her elbow on the table to lean her chin against her hand. The way Homura's eyes seem to flicker about as she follows the agile birds around makes her smile. A small breeze can be felt in the area, lightly tousling their hair—and she has a sudden urge to run her hands through Homura's hair, wanting to feel that silkiness along her fingertips.
The murmurs of the nearby patrons, and the bright sunlight shining through the canopies fade away; she only sees Homura in front of her.
She doesn't even realize she's zoning out—until there's a light clatter on their table, and the waitress sets down their drinks. She blushes, immediately sitting up and hoping that Homura hadn't noticed.
A sneaked glance, and like always, Homura's face is unreadable.
"One mocha blend," Homura raises her hand, and the waitress slides her drink over, "and one coffee mix." Madoka's drink is set down in front of her. "Is there anything else I can help you ladies with?"
Madoka shakes her head. "No—we're fine, for now, thank you."
The waitress gives a polite smile. "Enjoy your drinks. Your food should be out shortly."
"Thank you," Madoka murmurs again.
The waitress leaves, and they both turn to their drinks. Homura reaches for her straw, but Madoka stops her, holding out her hand.
"Wait, let me take a picture first, Homura-chan." She quickly pulls out her phone, and Homura slides her drink over, placing it by Madoka's.
After three attempts, Madoka is finally satisfied with her picture. As she sends a quick message to Sayaka, Homura retrieves her drink, fingers wrapping around the cooled glass. Condensation runs down the side, and she removes her hand to drag one finger across the surface.
"Okay, let's try this one out," Madoka says as she reaches for the spoon on the saucer.
Homura nods, pulling her drink closer. As she sips her familiar drink, she watches as Madoka finally brings the cup to her mouth.
When Madoka's face twists, Homura immediately grabs her own drink into her hand, sitting up and suddenly turning to the side, pretending not to notice.
"How is your drink, Madoka?" she asks, deliberately not looking at her.
Madoka coughs. "It's—really bitter...?"
"Maybe you can add some more milk or sugar to it?"
Madoka nods, looking around for something to wash the taste away. She finally sees that Homura is sipping at her drink out of her arm's reach, and pouts.
"Homura-chan..."
"Yes, Madoka?"
"Can I have a sip of your drink, please?"
It's—a familiar, comfortable sight of the Homura that she knows, and she juts her lower lip out ever so slightly, eyes watching, and easily pinpointing Homura's cave-in.
Homura sighs, and offers her her drink.
She smiles, "thank you, Homura-chan. Would you like to try mine?"
Lavender flickers down, before her eyes narrow at the small cup. "...Alright."
/
For a while, they pretend that things are okay, easily enjoying their meal with each other's company. There's the usual teasing, the sharp jokes, and the soft laugh that Homura always hides behind her hand.
Madoka takes it all in, knowing that once they exit the restaurant, the real world will once again come crashing down.
And maybe Homura thinks the same, because they stay there a bit longer than usual, until the lunch crowd trickles out, and they're the last ones still picking at their plates.
It's only after the waitress makes another round, eyes and face maybe a bit more strained, that they finally push away from the table, and head inside to pay their bill.
A quick visit to the restroom, before they step outside, and whatever little bubble they're in slowly cracks, and fades away.
They squint at the bright afternoon sun, as the sounds of cars, and the whispers of city life re-enter their ears.
Homura's face once more becomes blank, and Madoka once more takes her hand.
"Let's—go to the market?" she asks softly, pressing her fingers around Homura's.
Homura nods, and they turn around, heading into the direction of the shopping plaza.
\\
Though Homura prefers the smaller local market for their groceries, once they run out of milk, they usually head to the larger supermarket in one of the busier plazas close to their school.
To Homura's relief, early Monday afternoon is devoid of the crowd normally seen in this area; most likely because a number of students are in class.
They cross the street, and make their way under the arc to enter the shopping center. The market sits at the end of a long path of shops, and Madoka points to the displays in the windows as Homura looks on with her typical disinterest.
When they finally reach the market, the automatic doors open, releasing a rush of cold air that clashes with the tepid temperature outside. Homura grabs one of the small baskets provided that she always insists on carrying, and too used to it by now, Madoka makes no protest. They swing right, and head to the vegetable section for their selection of greens.
Madoka is slower as she browses, and Homura leaves her side to grab the produce she had seen on sale in the ads. The first time Madoka had gone to the market with Homura, she had been confused with her choices, but now she knows that Homura merely chooses whatever is marked down for the week.
Madoka bites her lip, her eyes now searching for Homura, and finds her in the midst of choosing a bundle of scallions. She glances to the side, and evaluates the packet of mushrooms in her hands.
She quickly assesses what she can make, and, considering their heavy meals this weekend, something light like a soup would be ideal to clean their palate.
By the time Homura joins her side, she has a number of vegetables in her hand, and a few days of meals planned in her mind.
The basket dips as she deposits them inside, but Homura holds steady.
"Is there anything else you need from here, Homura-chan?"
Homura shakes her head. "No."
"Okay."
They continue shopping, and some protein is added to their basket: lean meat, and a small pack of eggs. A carton of milk is precariously squeezed into the growing pile, and though Madoka notices when Homura switches grip every so often, she pretends not to, and instead points towards the sauce aisle.
"Oh, maybe they have that salad dressing here," Madoka murmurs as her eyes glaze past the bottles.
Their basket is abandoned at their feet, and she helps Homura search.
None of them seem even remotely similar, and after a brief debate on whether or not they should try something new, they instead settle on their usual choice of dressing: a light Italian that they both enjoy since it's not as sour.
As Homura stoops to retrieve their basket, there's a vaguely familiar voice in the direction where Madoka is standing.
"Kaname-san? And... Akemi-san?"
She glances up in curiosity.
"...Tomoe-san?" Madoka blinks.
Mami's surprised face morphs into a friendly smile. "What a coincidence, running into you two here."
/
Mami is just as polite as she was yesterday, and Homura is just as off-putting.
Madoka smiles though, enough for the both of them.
As the two chat, Homura listens with only half an ear; she's not interested in idle talk, and she doesn't know Mami enough to want to pretend that she is.
Mami is dressed just as simply as she was the other day, and Homura's mind wanders briefly, wondering of the blonde's relationship with the volatile redhead.
She doesn't care enough however, and turns her attention to reading random labels as Madoka and Mami continue to converse.
Mami is disappointed when Madoka turns down her invite to a small cafe around the corner, but she doesn't press them, which Homura grudgingly appreciates. They do manage to finalize plans and arrange to meet later in the week for lunch.
They part ways with a wave and a bow, before Madoka follows Homura as they continue their shopping.
"That was... surprising, seeing her here," Madoka murmurs as she glances over to Homura.
"Mm." Homura's eyes are trailing along the shelves, obviously distracted. "Their hotel is probably somewhere in the area."
"Most likely... she's nice though."
Homura can feel Madoka watching her, and she turns to face her. "...What is it?"
"You, uhm, don't have to go to lunch if you don't want to, Homura-chan..."
"...It's fine. They're only here for another week, aren't they? The chances of running into them will be... unlikely, once they return to Kazamino..."
Madoka nods. "Yes... that's—true."
"...I want to buy a few snacks," Homura says as she leads her over to the next aisle, "and then we'll be done?"
"Oh!" Madoka claps lightly as she remembers something. "I want to get those sweet potato chips we bought last time... You liked those too, didn't you, Homura-chan?"
"Yes."
"I'll buy two—no, maybe three packs this time...?"
"...Don't blame me when you complain your weight went up—Ow—"
Madoka moves her hand away, and starts searching the shelves for her snacks. "I remember they were by these other chips... Oh, maybe I should get those instead...?"
Whatever Homura is about to say is cut off when Madoka glares at her.
Homura nods, reaching behind her to fidget with her hair. "Yes, you'll... need... snacks... to help you study..."
Beaming, Madoka turns back to the selection of items.
She does hear Homura mutter something under her breath, and her hand shoots out to smack her on the shoulder.
"Ow..."
\\
They walk now at a slower pace, bags rustling and weighing them down as they head home.
Homura has once again fallen into silence, though she occasionally responds with vague agreements to at least reassure Madoka that she's listening.
It's not beyond her typical behavior, and maybe the only thing that's an indication of her inner turmoil is the way her lips dip down a little more than usual.
Madoka's random chattering slowly fades into silence as she struggles with her words, trying to think of something—anything to keep Homura from thinking whatever she's thinking.
Distracted, it takes her a moment to register the light buzzing heard. Her eyes widen, and she turns to Homura in alarm.
Homura stares at her jacket pocket, eyes moving from side to side as she debates whether or not to pick up.
"Homura-chan?"
Homura shifts the bags from her right hand to her left, before she digs into her pocket for her phone. The buzzing stops as soon as the device is pulled out, and Madoka waits with bated breath as Homura flicks her finger to unlock the screen.
Another brief buzz is heard, and Madoka watches as Homura scans the contents.
Finally, those guarded eyes meet hers. "...Keiichi-san managed to get in contact with—Satoshi's uncle. Satoshi—is fine," Madoka breathes a sigh of relief, "and, maybe... a visit can be arranged at the end of the week—after... after things settle down..."
"That's—that's good," Madoka responds, feeling her chest lighten at the news. It doesn't last long though, when she sees Homura is still staring at her phone, gripping it hard enough that the white of her knuckles can be seen.
Gently, Madoka places a hand to Homura's wrist. Homura starts at her touch, almost dropping her phone in the process.
"It's good news, Homura-chan. Satoshi-san is fine," Madoka says softly, her own fingers working to loosen Homura's death grip.
Homura's eyes narrow briefly, before they flicker to the side. "Yes, it's—good," she murmurs as she relaxes her hand. "We... uhm, should get going..." She gives Madoka an unconvincing smile, and her phone once more disappears into her pocket.
She redistributes the bags back into both hands, and starts walking. Madoka remains in place, staring at those shoulders that slump, bearing a weight that she doesn't know anything about.
Homura stops, and looks around when she doesn't see Madoka by her side. "Madoka?"
Madoka quickly jogs to catch up with her, ignoring how the bags swing and hit her legs as she runs.
"I'm here, Homura-chan."
Homura blinks, and the relief Madoka can see in her eyes makes her want to reach out and hold her. She doesn't, but she moves as close to Homura as possible.
She knows though, that their grocery bags aren't the only reason there's distance in between them.
/
The rest of their walk is quiet, and it takes all of Madoka's will power not to glance at Homura every few seconds.
They finally arrive home, and after their shoes are off and the door is locked, it's when they're passing the couch that Homura suddenly reaches out, her hand gripping Madoka's arm tightly.
She turns to her in surprise. "Homura-chan?"
"A—bout, earlier..." Homura bows her head, her eyes now concentrated on the floor. "When—I—in the kitchen..."
Madoka patiently waits for Homura to gather her thoughts.
The fingers on her sweater slacken, and Homura's brow furrows. "Could... you—just forget," Homura timidly raises her head, eyes nervously moving to avoid eye-contact.
Madoka can see she's trembling, and it makes her heart drop.
"...could—you—forget... what I said earlier...?"
Instead of replying, Madoka places her bags down on the coffee table, keeping her eyes on Homura as she does so. She takes the bags from Homura, and also sets those on the table. Once done, she reaches for Homura's arms, and guides her to the couch to take a seat.
"Homura-chan..."
"It was—" Homura fumbles with her words, eyes flicking nervously to anywhere that isn't Madoka's face, "it was—stupid of me, to mention it. It—"
Madoka closes her eyes, breathing in slowly. Homura is still making excuses when she opens her eyes. She reaches forward, and cuts off whatever else Homura wants to say as she hugs her close.
Homura is jumpy and stiff—and it reminds her of the first time she had given her a hug.
She gently strokes her hair, fighting back her own tears.
"...You're—not a bad person, Homura-chan. Everyone, no matter who they are, thinks selfish thoughts sometimes. That—woman—" she grits her teeth, remembering that painful sight of that hand connecting with Homura's face, "she's—she's a bad person. No one blames you—for thinking those things. But that's all they are—they're just thoughts. You weren't the one who stabbed your brother—you aren't the reason why he's in the hospital."
"That's—I—"
Madoka lets go briefly to wipe her face, before she turns back to Homura with fresh tears in her eyes. "It doesn't make you a bad person—" she sniffles, her sight now blurring as she remembers how lost Homura had looked—how lost she looks even now. "You're wonderful—and smart—and kind—and—I wish you could see that a-about yourself."
Homura sits up in confusion when she sees Madoka crying. "Madoka...? Wait—why are you crying?"
Madoka shakes her head, her lips quivering as she tries to stop her tears. "I-It's just—" She squeezes her eyes shut as her shoulders droop down. "I-I'm sorry—I can't—I—don't know—how to h-help you—"
"Madoka...?"
Madoka turns to bury her face into Homura's shoulder. "Y-Your heart—and—your—family—and I—"
She throws her body forward, and unprepared for her weight, Homura falls back onto the couch with Madoka now lying on top of her, sobbing into her jacket.
Homura looks around anxiously as Madoka continues to cry. Finally, she tentatively wraps her arms around those shaking shoulders.
"I just—want to be t-there for you..." Madoka whispers.
Homura sighs, her arms now holding Madoka tightly.
She's—never known anyone so honest, and definitely no one as caring.
"...Thank you," she murmurs into her ear.
\\
She blinks in confusion, eyes trying to focus as something black floods her sight. She stares at it blankly, before she realizes that something is also moving underneath her.
A slow, steady rhythm that continuously raises and falls.
And—for some reason, her face is lying on something uncomfortably damp.
She uses her hands to brace herself up, head lifting as she tries to blink away her sleepiness. She wipes at her eyes, and is in the middle of wiping her face when she promptly freezes, finally registering Homura's sleeping face a small distance away.
Her eyes widen and her neck heats up as she realizes she's practically sprawled over Homura, and that her hand is—
She sits up quickly, face now full blown red when her actions do not help the situation whatsoever as her legs are still entangled with Homura's.
She's still panicking when a familiar voice, thick with sleep, interrupts her thoughts.
"...Madoka?"
"Ah," she swallows nervously, "s-sorry, Homura-chan... I—fell asleep...? Uhm, sorry, about your jacket..."
"Mm...?" Homura is rubbing her eyes, not at all bothered that Madoka is still sitting on top of her. "Oh. It's okay. I'm not surprised we fell asleep though, we didn't get much sleep last night..."
She nods, "Y-Yeah..."
Homura stares at her for a few seconds. "Uhm... Madoka...?"
"Y-Yes?"
"...Could you move, please?"
Madoka flushes, "yes—of course, sorry!" She scrambles off her, stumbling slightly as she tries to shake away her disorientation. She regains her balance as Homura sits up.
Homura is yawning into her open hand when she hears Madoka cry out.
"We forgot to put the milk into the refrigerator!"
Homura wipes her eyes dry, before she glances to the clock. "It should be okay still—we didn't sleep for that long."
She pushes off the couch, standing to help Madoka carry the groceries into the kitchen.
/
After they load the perishables into the refrigerator, they both change into their jerseys, before they head back to the kitchen to start their preparations for dinner.
It's a bit early, but neither of them are in the mood to work on their school work for various reasons.
Madoka hums a random tune as she packs the earlier brewed coffee away, and the familiarity of the atmosphere has Homura finally relaxing as she helps wash the vegetables. Once they're cleaned, she hands them off to Madoka.
"Thank you, Homura-chan," Madoka smiles as she accepts the bowl of vegetables. She places it down on the counter, right by the cutting board and knife that has been set out by the sink.
Homura wipes her hands dry. "What else should I help with?"
"Uhmmmm." Madoka glances around. "Oh! Could you make the rice?"
"Sure. One pot of rice, coming right up."
Instead of starting her own task, Madoka watches as Homura digs through the cabinets for a colander. She's still watching when Homura stands, and then moves to cross over the room, heading to the small pantry where they keep the dry items.
She stops when she sees Madoka looking at her. She blinks in confusion, and tilts her head. "Is... there something wrong?"
"Ah," Madoka blushes, and quickly averts her eyes. "N-Nothing. Sorry—I was... just thinking—of the first time I met you."
It's not a blatant lie, and she gives herself a mental pat on the back for her quick response.
Homura continues on her way to the pantry. She briefly disappears behind the door, only to reappear with a small bag in her hands. It's placed on the counter next to the colander, and there's the sound of crumpling paper as Homura pulls open the rice bag.
Madoka wonders if Homura had heard her—but Homura's next words answers her question.
"What—about it?"
Homura peers into the bag, locating the measuring cup already inside. Two cups are measured, before being emptied into the colander. As the grains flow and bounce off the plastic container, the high pitched twinkling sounds remind Madoka of Tora—like the little beads stuffed into his feet.
That thought is pushed aside as another one takes precedence. Madoka smiles—the coffee shop has a special place in her heart—and after that, is the almost burnt pasta dish that Homura had made on that unforgettable day.
"It just reminded me why I'm the one in charge of the kitchen," she says finally.
As expected, Homura turns to her, one eyebrow lifted in obvious offense.
Madoka responds with a grin. "You almost burned your old apartment down, Homura-chan."
Homura turns back to the rice, and maybe she's a bit more rough as she crumples the bag closed. "...None of them would have noticed regardless. In fact, it might've been an improvement."
Madoka laughs, glad that Homura seems to be feeling better enough to joke around. "That's true."
"...Truthfully," Homura says as she pads over to the sink, colander in hand, "I was, uhm, kind of nervous that day..."
Madoka blinks. "You were?"
Homura faces the sink, and the little bit of her face that Madoka can see is slightly tinged red. "Yes—it was... well, let's just say that sometimes, I wonder what made me... talk to you, that day..."
Madoka reaches out and taps Homura's shoulder lightly with a closed fist. "What? You mean to tell me that you don't offer help to anyone who spills coffee all over you in front of a crowded shop?"
She's smiling when Homura turns to her. "...No, not really."
Maybe it's the trick of the light, but Madoka sees—something—in Homura's eyes. Unconsciously, her gaze flickers down briefly, before they return to lock on Homura's eyes.
She takes a step forward. "Homura-chan..."
Homura blinks, breaking eye-contact when she hears the buzz from her phone.
Madoka barely refrains from grasping her head in frustration.
"I'll—be right back," Homura murmurs as she passes by.
"...Okay."
\\
Homura disappears into the bedroom again with her phone, and Madoka distracts herself by continuing the preparations for dinner. She doesn't trust herself with a knife just yet, and instead takes over Homura's task of making rice.
She's pushing the button to set the timer when Homura finally returns to the living room. There's an audible beep for confirmation, and she watches as Homura approaches the breakfast bar. The phone makes a small clack as she sets it down.
"Sorry," Homura says softly, glancing to the rice cooker, "I was supposed to make the rice..."
Madoka shakes her head. "No—it's fine." She wipes down her hands on a dishcloth, and nervously licks her lips. "Is... everything okay?"
Homura absently reaches behind her to fidget with her hair. "...Yes. The—anesthesia is starting to wear off, and they say that Satoshi may regain consciousness later tonight, or tomorrow..."
Madoka twists the cloth in her hands. "T-That's good, isn't it?"
"...His wound—isn't as bad as Keiichi-san initially thought. It—was in his shoulder, and they managed to repair most of the damage; he'll... have to go through physical therapy, and there may be some side effects, but, he's... okay."
Madoka knows this is good news—but Homura's reaction says otherwise.
"Homura-chan...?"
"I'm—glad—he's okay..." Homura mumbles, eyes now staring blankly at the counter top.
Madoka abandons the cloth and hurriedly exits the kitchen to join Homura's side. "Homura-chan?"
"I—should be glad he's—okay...right...?"
Madoka gently places her hands on Homura's shoulders. "...Are you, Homura-chan?"
Homura nods slowly. "I—think so... I—didn't want him to die..."
Madoka's hands move up, until they're gently cupping Homura's face. "Homura-chan? Look at me, please?"
She lifts her head, and Madoka hates—just how lost Homura looks.
"Your brother is going to be okay..."
"He is..."
"How—does it make you feel?"
Homura's mouth opens slightly, before it clicks shut. "I—don't know..."
"Happy? Relieved? ...Sad?"
Homura finally pulls back to turn away from her. "I—don't know—"
"Homura-chan?"
"Relieved...?"
"Are you happy that he's alive?"
"I—don't—" Homura whirls around, eyes angry—shining with unshed tears. "I—don't know!" She angrily swipes at her eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears. "W—hy, couldn't he—just leave me alone?" she whispers, her body bowing forward as she covers her face with her hands. "I—don't want to see them—I don't—want—" she hiccups, struggling to choke back her tears.
Madoka steps forward to hug her tightly. "It'll be okay, Homura-chan. You can cry." She kisses the top of Homura's head as hands grip her almost desperately. "You can cry as much as you want to."
/
They end up once again on the couch, this time Homura clinging onto her.
Her sobs slowly quiet down, and Madoka gently strokes Homura's back as the occasional sniffles break the silence.
"...Madoka?"
"Hm...?"
"I'm—okay now..."
Madoka pulls away as Homura does the same. She has a glance of Homura's tear-stained face, before Homura quickly hides her face behind her bangs.
"I'll, uhm... be right back..." She removes herself from Madoka's lap, stumbling slightly in her haste to head to the bathroom.
Madoka breathes out slowly as she leans against the cushions. She's lost in her own thoughts, and it isn't until she feels the couch move, that she realizes that Homura has rejoined her.
As Homura stares straight ahead, Madoka takes a moment to examine her profile. Her familiar glasses are now sitting on her face, and she can see her puffy eyes—red—bloodshot.
And—somehow—still beautiful.
Her chest tightens as she realizes just how much she loves her—and how much it hurts her to know that Homura's hurting.
"I'm sorry," Homura blurts out as she gives a timid side glance.
Anger blooms in her chest, but she barely manages to keep it in check. "...For what, Homura-chan?"
"For—" Homura gestures helplessly. Her voice drops to a whisper. "Can... we forget—about that, too...?"
Madoka remains quiet, silently counting backwards in her head to calm herself down. She grips the armrest tightly, her eyes stinging from her frustration.
"Homura-chan..."
Homura stiffens, her eyes now lowered to the floor. "I'm sorry—"
"Stop saying that!" Her words erupt and something twists in her heart when she sees Homura flinch—because of her. She places her hand to the bridge of her nose, taking deep breaths and exhaling to contain her anger.
"...It—won't happen again," Homura mumbles as she tugs on her jacket sleeves. "It was—I'm... sorry. I'll—I'll help, uhm, finish dinner..." She's moving to stand when Madoka turns to her.
"Homura-chan."
Whatever she hears in Madoka's voice has her freezing in place.
Madoka sighs softly, and somehow tries to get her body to relax. "Homura-chan... maybe—maybe 'forgetting about it' isn't the best thing to do."
Half out of her seat, Homura glances at her, and Madoka's expression has her lowering her body back to the couch.
"It's—okay," Homura mumbles. "Satoshi is fine—and, things will return back to normal soon."
Madoka's hands curl into fists. "...What's—normal, Homura-chan?"
Homura blinks. "What—do you mean...?"
Madoka breathes in deeply, letting her anger drain as she breathes out. She scoots closer to Homura to take her hands.
"Before this weekend—I didn't even know you were—" she pauses, trying to keep from choking up, "—sick. I—didn't know that you had a half-brother living in the same city as us. I—didn't know anything," she whispers. "Just—what—is normal to you, Homura-chan?"
Homura searches her eyes, not understanding why Madoka looks about ready to cry once more. "I..." She looks away.
"I told you, that I want to be here for you, Homura-chan." Madoka squeezes her hands, forcing her gaze back. "I understand, that you don't—want to be treated differently... but, when—these kinds of things affect you this much... I—don't want to forget about it—I—don't want to pretend that things are okay, when they're obviously not."
Homura's eyes nervously flit around. "But—"
"I'm right here, Homura-chan. Whether you like it or not, I'm here for you."
Homura draws back. "...Why?"
Another twist in her heart. "Why—what?"
Homura moves her hands away easily, because Madoka is no longer holding on. "Why—do you care so much—about me? Why—are you so nice to me? Why—" she swallows, "why do you care—about someone like me?"
Madoka grits her teeth in frustration—in absolutely anger, because she knows that that woman is the reason why Homura can't even understand why—anyone—would love her.
"Why? Why?" Her voice slowly grows in volume as her anger overflows. "Why?" she hisses as she drags her palm across her eyes, swiping at her tears. "Why would I care about you?"
She's out of her seat, her nervous and angry energy making it hard to sit still.
"Why?" she mumbles under her breath, her feet now moving as she paces in front of the couch. "Homura-chan—is asking me—why—I care about her—this—" she shoots Homura a glare, "this idiot here, is asking me—why I care about her."
Homura blinks in confusion. "Madoka...?"
Madoka takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds, before breathing out. She turns to face Homura, who is still watching her.
Who's—still so obviously lost.
She opens her mouth, but closes it again. She shakes her head.
"Homura-chan... we're friends, and friends care about each other."
Homura nervously glances around. "I... wouldn't know. I—have never had a friend."
Madoka steps forward to grasp Homura's hands. "You have me."
"Ah..."
A bashful Homura is a rare sight, and Madoka takes a few seconds to commit it to memory, before she gently tugs Homura up.
"Let's... finish making dinner, Homura-chan."
Homura's relief is almost palatable; the tension seems to drop from her face at the change of topic. She nods. "Okay."
Madoka squeezes Homura's hand again. "We'll... get through this together, okay?"
She pauses. "...Okay."
Madoka smiles, and Homura glances back down.
"Madoka...?"
"Yes, Homura-chan?"
"...Thank you."
"You're welcome, Homura-chan."
She leads the way to the kitchen, and though it makes her happy to see Homura feeling better, her chest feels constricted—because she knows that now is not the right time to confess her love for this thick-headed girl.
She looks behind her, and Homura gives her a shy glance.
It makes her smile, and lessens the ache—if only just a little.
/
She snaps her workbook closed, and the yawn she's fighting comes back tenfold. She wipes her eyes dry, before checking the time on the wall clock.
Fifteen minutes until 11, and as usual, Homura is taking a shower.
She drags her hand over her face; the weekend is catching up to her, and she's about ready to fall asleep.
Her books are deposited back into her bag, and after making sure that she has everything packed, she heads over to the bedroom to change.
As she's pulling out her pajamas, the bathroom door opens, and Homura emerges fresh from her shower, dressed in her sleeping clothes.
"I'm done," Homura murmurs when she notices Madoka rifling through the drawers.
Madoka stifles another yawn. "Mm, I'm just going to shower tomorrow after I wake up."
Homura nods, moving to the closet to put away her own clothes. "You should go to sleep if you're tired."
"I will," Madoka replies as she heads to the bathroom. She pauses by the door, "after you take your medicine."
Homura blinks. She turns, but the sight of the bathroom door closing stops the question from being asked. She sighs softly, and finishes organizing her clothes.
When Madoka steps out, Homura is sitting on the bed with a familiar plastic container in her hand. They lock eyes briefly, before Homura pushes off the bed, container still held tightly.
She waits for Madoka to place her clothes on top of the dresser, and then they both head to the kitchen.
As Homura starts getting her medicine ready, Madoka retrieves a glass from the cabinets to fill with water.
"Thank you," Homura murmurs when Madoka sets the cup down.
Madoka nods, and takes a seat next to Homura, forgoing her usual seat across from her.
She closes her eyes, listening to the rustle and crackle of plastic as Homura continues to extract her pills.
Many things have happened this weekend; many things that now remind her that there's an invisible clock ticking in the background.
As soon as the sounds stop, she opens her eyes, and turns to face Homura.
A glance at the time, and she catches the end of the digits scrolling down to double ones and zeros.
On cue, Homura reaches for her medication, and starts knocking back each pill, washing them down with a gulp of water right after.
Homura doesn't ask, but Madoka is out of her seat as soon as the last drop in the glass is gone. The cup is snatched out of her hand and then refilled a moment later.
"Thank you..." Homura gives her a nervous glance, before she moves to take a long drink of her water.
Once finished, Homura stands to place the cup into the sink.
Blinking slowly, Madoka follows suit.
As they pass the couch, Madoka's eyes flicker over to it, unconsciously remembering this afternoon; remembering Homura's breakdown.
Breakdowns.
"Homura-chan?"
Homura stops. "Yes, Madoka?" Her voice is quiet; unsure. Nervous.
"Do you... want to sleep with me tonight?"
"I'm..."
Madoka waits, and it's quiet enough that she can hear Homura's slow exhale.
"...Would that be alright?"
She reaches over to take Homura's hand. "It's more than alright," she replies with a gentle smile.
Homura glances down, before her eyes once more meets hers. "Thank you."
Madoka squeezes her hand. "What are friends for, Homura-chan?"
It earns her a small smile that slowly chips at her heart.
Hand in hand, they head to the bedroom.
She squeezes Homura's hand once more, and this time Homura gives her a puzzled look.
She shakes her head, offering another smile.
The growing confusion on Homura's face brightens her mood, and she walks faster, tugging Homura through the hallway.
\\
With the lights off and the blankets pulled up, they settle into bed.
Madoka faces Homura, waiting for her eyes adjust to the darkness. She can hear and feel as Homura moves around, once again trying to get comfortable.
"Homura-chan?" She keeps her voice soft.
"Hm...?"
"...You can come closer, if you want."
Her movements stop, and Madoka struggles to make out Homura's face in the waning light.
The bed dips lightly, and she can suddenly feel Homura's body heat next to her as she slides in close. Something tickles her face, and she relaxes when she realizes that it's merely Tora and Amy.
She smiles, and pats them affectionately, knowing how fond Homura is of her plushies even though she would never admit it. She also knows that Tora most likely shares the most of Homura's memories, and though it's silly, she's briefly envious of him, wondering just how much of Homura's life has been seen in those plastic eyes.
She shakes her head; she'll earn Homura's trust, and somehow unlock those memories on her own.
She can vaguely see Homura staring at her, and she extends her hand. There's no response and Madoka realizes that Homura most likely can't see. Remembering Homura's sleeping habits, she slips her hand under the pillows, and Homura jumps when she feels something touch her fingers.
"Sorry," Madoka smiles sheepishly, "that's my hand, Homura-chan."
"Oh..."
It takes a moment until their fingers are intertwined.
"How are you feeling, Homura-chan?"
"Okay. Tired..."
"We should get some sleep then. Goodnight, Homura-chan."
"...Goodnight, Madoka."
She smiles, eyes closing when Homura still holds her hand tightly.
She has a feeling that things will be far from 'normal' from now on, but, she also knows that she's willing to work through the good and the bad, as long as Homura lets her.
AN: Ahh, it took me long enough to update-perhaps...? Also, *stores the extra 1.3kwords from this chapter, and uses it for another chapter. (What do you mean it doesn't work that way?!)
Anyways, thank you for reading and thank you for your reviews ! I apologize for... the ~2 month+ delay for this chapter; I'll try and continue my usual 1 month updates from now on (hopefully... *fingers crossed in a lie?). I hope everyone is doing well, and if not, that you eventually will be. (If you're also curious, cat's cradle update most likely soon, within the week...?)
Thank you again; I hope all of you are sticking to your new year's resolutions : )) because I sure haven't : (((
