Café

The moment that school was over, Madoka gave a hasty excuse to Sayaka and Hitomi before dragging Homura to the nearby café. Homura followed behind in a daze, and Madoka couldn't blame her—both of them were wondering when they would wake up from this strange dream.

But neither wanted to wake up from this beautiful reality.

At a corner table for two, Madoka smiled sheepishly at the girl across from her. "Sorry about, um, pulling you all the way here."

"Don't be," Homura said, though it was clear that her mind was elsewhere. "I got excited."

I, not you, Madoka thought. That's a good sign, right?

Madoka cleared her throat. "S-so, I'm not crazy, right? We…we actually know each other?"

Homura's lips parted slightly as she considered what to say. "We do," she said at length. She cast her eyes downwards. "Or, at least, we once did."

"We still do," Madoka decided. "That's exciting, isn't it? I never thought that I'd get to be friends with someone like you, Homura-chan."

Homura's eyebrow twitched at that. Madoka— being used to the expressive Sayaka, who wore her heart on her sleeve—didn't pick up on it.

A silence fell upon them. Madoka wished that it was one of those companionable silences that she read about in fiction books, but this one just felt awkward.

Madoka had messed it up, didn't she? She had assumed that they were friends, but who would want to be friends with someone like her?

I shouldn't have said anything.

She slouched her shoulders and tucked her head in, looking somewhere off to the side. She'd just wait for Homura to do the talking.

Two minutes passed. Nothing was said. Perhaps this was a test? No, that didn't sound like Homura. Madoka only had one memory of them together, but that gentle, sensitive girl didn't seem like one for such sly—not to mention manipulative—behavior.

Maybe she's just shy like me.

For some reason, that made her feel a bit better. Gathering up her courage, Madoka mumbled, "Maybe you could…explain all this? Please? Um, that is, if you know anything about it."

Homura brought a steaming-hot mug of tea to her lips, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. She looked around them, making sure that no one was in earshot. "I do know what happened, yes," she confirmed. "In the defunct timeline, that is, though I don't know how your memories came back instead of just mine."

"Timeline…Homura-chan, are you—"

"Yes," she said with a clipped tone. She winced at her own voice, but Madoka didn't mind, nor did she seem to notice.

With stars in her eyes, Madoka said, "That's so cool! To think that magic and time travel are real…You're incredible, Homura-chan!"

Homura wasn't sure what she hated more: her racing heart or that she was setting Madoka up for disappointment. Any moment, those wide, sparkling eyes would dull with grief.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder, letting it cascade down her back. "You're wrong," she said coolly. "I am a monster and a failure. Nothing more."

Madoka sobered, but this time, she didn't look away. "Weren't you listening earlier?" she asked quietly. "You don't need to be so distant, Homura-chan. You're not alone anymore."

Homura grimaced. Clearly, Madoka didn't recall anything more than their "date." Had she remembered anything more, she'd hate Homura for failing to save her so many times.

Then, Madoka—kind, precious, gracious Madoka—surprised her yet again.

"A lot of that memory is kinda fuzzy," she admitted, "but there was a promise that we talked about, right? The fact that we're here now means that I broke it, didn't I?"

Homura swirled her tea with a small, silver spoon. "A quick deduction," she murmured. "Don't ever let anyone tell you that you're not smart."

Looking down into the murky depths of her tea, she didn't see Madoka's fiery blush.

"But please, Madoka, don't blame yourself. You broke your promise to save my life. If anything, I need to apologize for failing you and putting you in that position."

Madoka shook her head. "I won't accept that apology. You did everything you could."

"How can you say that without your memories?"

"Because I still remember you."

Homura's hands shook so bad, she almost dropped her tea in her lap. She set it down, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

This wasn't something to lose her cool over. They were just words. They shouldn't rattle her.

But…hearing them in Madoka's voice, and having that earnest face looking back at her with such overwhelming faith for someone that she had technically just met…

She smiled thinly. "I suppose there is a reason why I keep coming back."

"Right…I need someone to fix all my mistakes, don't I?"

"No. I just can't live in a world without you."

It took Homura a moment to realize what she had just said.

Madoka's mouth formed a silent "oh," and she blushed furiously. "I-I, um…Homura-chan, you can't just—I mean, you can? I'm not worth—that is, someone like you—but you're so—and I'm so—how can you—just a dream, definitely—"

Homura wasn't faring much better, but what amounted to years of practice helped her keep her cool, at least externally.

That was a lie. She covered her burning face with her hands and tried not to scream.

Ten seconds later, she attained a modicum of composure. "A-anyway, my…my warning. Yes, I have not given it yet. If you, um, if you meet a cat, say, er, no. Please."

Homura, of course, had planned to say something like, "If a demon in the night preys upon your hopes and dreams, reject it." Naturally, being around Madoka had the nasty habit of ruining Homura's attempts at eloquence, leaving a puzzled look on the former's face.

"S-sorry, a cat?"

"…Yes. Sort of."

"I, um, don't really understand, but I trust you, Homura-chan." She placed her palms on the table and leaned forward, the confusion wiped from her face as stars entered her eyes. "Anyway, I don't really remember much, but you do, right? Can you tell me about all the cool stuff we did together?"

Homura couldn't meet that open and honest expression. How could she think of "cool stuff" when everything else overshadowed it?

Then again, how did she have such lovely memories of Madoka if everything was dark and gloomy?

"There were many nice moments," she admitted at length. "We spent a lot of time together."

Madoka's eyes widened further. "Are you saying we went on more dates?"

Homura nearly spat out her drink. It was going to be a long day.