Hair

At times like these, Madoka couldn't help but wonder how she had gotten here.

Oh, sure, she could figure out how Point A led to Point B which brought her to Point C, D, and E, but it was the principle of such things. She was the least intelligent, least capable out of all her friends. She wasn't quick to act like Sayaka nor did she have Hitomi's interpersonal skills. She didn't have her mother's drive nor her father's caretaking abilities. She was just Madoka, the tag-along.

And yet, she was the only one in the world who got to see Homura being so…vulnerable.

She hummed to herself with a silly grin on her face. "Your hair is really pretty, Homura-chan," she said, brushing through it once more. Not too long ago, she had thought that her mom had the nicest hair in the world, but there was something about Homura's long, silky locks that appealed to her even more. "Have you ever tried braiding it?"

Homura sat in front of the vanity in Madoka's bedroom, but she kept her eyes trained directly on the floor instead of the mirror. "I used to," she admitted after a lengthy pause, "but that was a different person. That Homura is dead."

A finger was lightly jabbed into her cheek. "We talked about this," Madoka chided. "No 'Edgy Homura-chan' when it's just the two of us, 'kay?"

Homura didn't directly respond, but she reached up and placed her hand on Madoka's, giving it a few pats before letting it fall to her side.

With an even wider smile than before, Madoka put down the brush and began to interlace Homura's hair into a braid—one on each side, she decided. It would look cutest that way.

She hummed to herself as she worked, marveling that the silence was now companionable. Even Homura seemed to relax, which was a huge win in Madoka's book.

Upon finishing the left braid, Madoka—after careful deliberation—spoke. "Kyubey visited me again last night."

Homura stiffened. "And?"

"I said no, of course. I have everything I could ever want right here."

"Keep it that way. For your sake."

Madoka nodded and resumed braiding Homura's hair.

If Madoka had it her way, there wouldn't be anything for Homura to worry about. There wouldn't be a downside to being a magical girl, which Homura insisted there was aside from just fighting Witches, and Homura seemed to know everything. One of the other magical girls that they had met, Mami, corroborated this story, though it was more along the lines of how violent and dangerous the Witches were.

When it was just the two of them, Homura had said that the truth was much, much worse, and doubly so for Madoka herself.

"The whole thing kinda scares me," Madoka said. Her eyes lost a bit of their luster as she considered it. "Well, it really scares me. Dying, obviously, but something even worse than dying? I didn't think that was possible."

Through the mirror, she saw that Homura's eyes were dark slates, gazing into an abyss that no one else could fathom. Instinctively, Madoka wanted to shy away from the uncomfortable topic, but it was even worse knowing that Homura felt so…sad.

"Hey, I made a promise, didn't I, Homura-chan? I'm not going to become a magical girl."

Homura let out a rather aggressive grunt. "You can't promise that," she said coolly. "To me, it was less than two weeks ago that you made the same vow."

"You mean during our date?" Madoka teased, but Homura didn't have the desired reaction.

"Exactly. The day after, you broke your promise and died in my arms."

"…O-oh."

Sometimes, Madoka wondered how she got here. She wasn't as intelligent as her classmates, but surely, she should have already processed that the girl in front of her had seen her die. She wasn't sure if that was worse than knowing that she had died in the first place.

…No. That wasn't the worst thing.

The hardest part of all this was knowing that she was the one who had caused Homura so much pain.

"But not this time," she swore. "You won't be alone ever again, Homura-chan. You and I will get through this, together."

Homura shook her head. She ran a hand through her hair, undoing her braid with practiced ease. "You were always too optimistic," she murmured. "Naive, idealistic, kind, and self-sacrificing—all fatal flaws of magical girls."

"But—"

"No buts. One of these times, I will save you, but this one is already doomed."

A deep frown marred Madoka's face. "And why not? Are you already giving up?"

"It's not a matter of giving up," Homura stated matter-of-factly. "You and I are closer in this timeline. That's another bond that Kyubey can and will manipulate."

"Well, I won't let him," Madoka decided. "You being here has taught me that, with enough effort, we can change destiny itself."

"But not our ultimate fate as magical girls."

Madoka smiled thinly. "Ultimate fate, shmultimate rate. Have you met my mother? Us Kaname women are nothing if not tenacious. If I'm ever forced into a position where I have to become a magical girl to save your life, then it'll be on my terms and mine alone."

After thinking about that for a while, Homura raised her eyes, looking up at Madoka through the mirror. "I don't deserve you, Madoka."

"Mhm. You deserve better. I'm just happy that you're choosing to spend time with me of all people."

Homura let out a short laugh. Madoka decided that it was the prettiest laugh that she had ever heard.

"Of course, I'd spend my time with you. There's no one else I'd rather be with."

Madoka's fingers fumbled alongside the raging butterflies in her stomach. "If th-that's the case, you may as well ask me out on another date, Homura-chan."

Homura gulped. "A-and if I do? What would you say?"

Madoka giggled. "Is that even a question at this point?"

"…Maybe?"

"Well, the answer would be yes, silly…but only if you let me braid your hair beforehand."

Homura popped out of her chair, spun around with a furious blush, and shoved a finger out towards Madoka. "That's c-coercion! An ultimatum! You can't just put a girl in that position!"

Madoka placed her hands on her hips, acting as if her face didn't match her hair color. "Th-then can we at least have matching ribbons? You'd look so cute with them! N-not that you're not cute already, of course—y-you're really pretty, I mean, I just thought that…that, um…I really like braids. And ribbons. And you."

Silence.

Wait, what was that last thing I said?

Apparently, it was something really embarrassing, because Homura seemed to be on the verge of fainting.

Madoka looked away with a sheepish expression and wrung her hands together. "S-so, is that a yes, or…Actually, who was even asking who on a date? Is this about the date or the braids? Wait…is this a date?!"

This wasn't like with Sayaka or Hitomi, where it was totally fine to have another girl in her room. This was Homura. How did Madoka's parents allow this to happen?

She didn't have time to ask, as she found herself wrapped in a tight hug.

"Tomorrow," Homura whispered, her voice shaking slightly, "I-I'd like to take you to a spot that's important to me, if that's okay."

At that moment, what Madoka wanted was a damp washcloth to cool down her burning face, but being alone with Homura sounded pretty amazing, too. She nodded before realizing that Homura couldn't see it from this position. "Yeah, tomorrow, good, um, school, and, um, place, yes, important place, very nice, you're nice, I like—"

"Madoka?"

"Y-yes?"

"Please be quiet and let me enjoy the moment."

"O-okay."

She returned Homura's embrace, burrowing her face in the crook of Homura's neck and idly playing with a strand of unbelievably soft, dark hair.

Madoka may not know exactly what the future would hold, but she was most certainly excited for tomorrow.