It hasn't escaped me that the last thing I'd said to you was that we should meet by other means in the future, but that future is now and I'm not aware of any other way to contact you.
How has your past year been? Good? No?
Well, no entire year is without ups and downs. You'll have to tell me all about it later.
Me?
Well, the beginning of high school has been a challenge to grow accustomed to after nearly two decades of middle school (oh, the stories I would tell if I could say I was held back!), but I like to think I've done well.
Not much outside of school has changed. A blessing and a curse I've self-imposed. Although I suppose not even that is new.
Myself and...
No, I shouldn't say.
Panicked? No. I'll admit my tendency to lose my temper or catastrophize under stress, but I never panic.
Madoka's in hospital. Yes, naturally I'm panicking. Myself and the others have been nervously pacing around a waiting room for what is coming up on six hours now. The only time any of us left the building is when I went to collect her gem. Nobody else understands its significance, and the staff were ready to declare her dead.
I'm sorry. I should have led with all that. It's a situation I myself am finding difficult to accept, let alone discuss. Regardless, aren't you my friend? You deserve to know such things, and I deserve the chance to open up about them before you.
Something happened to her. I don't know what, but I can't get rid of the feeling that this time I'm going to lose her forever. No reset. No undo.
You seem lost. I'm sorry, allow me to explain.
This all began the last time you were around. Possibly even before, but you remember my self-obsession at the time. It left me inattentive. The truth is that the roots of the problem had already dug their way in too deep last I bid you adieu. Do you remember? She'd forget a phrase, or trip over nothing, or something like that. I thought nothing of it then. She can be a little scatterbrained sometimes, but I like that; my nonstop clarity of purpose isn't something to be admired.
This is not absent-mindedness. As I recounted what I've seen to a doctor, I realized it sounds like neurodegenerative illness. I don't believe for a second that it could be this, either. I hope you recall the time the apparition of a dancer appeared in my teacup when she forgot a word, or a facially disfigured woman on a television when she tripped over nothing. Neurodegenerative illnesses don't make radios play sounds of people being violently mutilated that only you can hear. They... definitely don't plunge your entire house into a brief blackout the moment you suddenly pass out.
I brought her back. Do you remember that? She didn't exist, and I brought her back, and I must have done it wrong. This is almost certainly my own fault, and I know that because I can't imagine a worse scenario.
"Hey, Homura. You good?"
Before I notice, Sayaka's hand is upon my own. I hadn't even seen her move to the seat beside mine. Reflex says I should pull away, but...
I'm tired. You know I'm tired. I've been tired for longer than my younger self thought I'd be alive.
"It's just you've been staring at the wall for twenty minutes now. And your breathing..."
"Sorry? I didn't even notice I was breathing."
"That's the thing. I don't think you were."
"I'm thinking. I'm just thinking about the situation, is all."
"Yeah... me too. I mean, she's basically always been a part of my life. I don't want to think about how things might change if anything happened to her."
Life? Life, singular? Does she think she can relate to me? Pathetic.
Kyoko sits across from her. "And yet you came to the hospital."
"Of course! It would be wrong of me not to be here for her."
"Yeah? What difference does it make if we're here or not?"
"Kyoko..."
"I'm serious! Who do we think we're helping by being here? Her?"
I offer: "We're united in the fear that we might lose someone important to us. We should be here for each other."
She looks between us, then over at Tomoe and Nagisa, arriving by elevator just that moment. "Yeah. As if you'd know how that felt."
She gets in just as the others come out, then slams some button just out of sight. The doors close.
Tomoe frowns. "Is she alright?"
"Are any of us?"
My question passes over Nagisa's head. "Is Madoka going to be okay?"
"I don't know."
"Are you okay?"
"I don't know."
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know."
I don't want to deal with all these questions. I confess Kyoko had the right idea.
Cut.
We're a few blocks down, headed into the neon-lights-and-LED-screens part of town. Kyoko jumps and takes the Lord's name in vain when I appear before her.
"What do you want, sneaking up on me like that?"
"You left so suddenly."
"Yeesh, like I didn't notice? Man, I wasn't gonna talk to you of all people about this stuff. Why would I, when I'm trying to be getting less morbid and gloomy?"
"I'm also trying to keep a positive outlook."
"Yeah, alright. So how about that future vision or whatever of yours? I don't totally get your powers, but I know you've got something like that up your sleeve. How's this gonna end up?"
When I don't answer, she walks around and past me.
"Let me guess. You're afraid to look."
It's more complicated than that. All of time and space is trapped inside my head. To drown it out requires a strength of will I barely have. It's taking all my concentration not to know.
"Look atcha. So caught up in yourself thinking about the future and about the past, and forgetting the one simple fact that they're both terrible."
"So you live only in the moment."
"You call anything else living?"
"And waiting for your friend to wake from a coma is a waste of time?"
"She's not special."
"Take that back."
I want to punch her. I want to punch her, but as powerful as I am, my heart can't handle the jolt of adrenaline. If I tried, I'd fall over and look like an idiot.
"I mean it, dammit! One day, maybe decades from now, but given the situation maybe as soon as tonight, you're gonna be sitting in a waiting room just like that one, and some doctor's gonna come and tell you that one of the most important people in your life just died. And there was nothing you could do about it. You don't know what it's like to lose someone you love."
"I do."
She turns. She grabs my collar. The anger that crosses her face makes me think of the old Kyoko. "No you don't! Magic gave you a big, shiny reset button, so you're never left wondering, well, what if things had been different? You're never gonna live with facing that question, so stop acting like you know everything!"
"This power is more of a curse than you think."
She lets go. "Wow. You really are an idiot."
Cut.
Back to the waiting room.
There's no winning with her. Of course there isn't. I'll leave her to her own mercurial disposition, then, until she suddenly decides I was right.
I could skip ahead to the end of waiting to hear from someone, but I don't want to. I want to suffer this uncertainty. I want to feel the dread poison me at one second per second.
What does she think she's saying, claiming I've never lost someone? The real Madoka would never hurt like this. This one is just some mournful Galatea wasting away down a hall I don't have the courage to walk. Who have I been fooling, thinking I could bring her into a universe where she never existed?
I wish she was here with me, now. She'd know what to do. Maybe she is, in some form. But I wouldn't blame her if she chose not to be.
By the time I write this, it has been seven hours. Kyoko isn't back yet. Tomoe has had to put Nagisa to bed. This leaves only myself, and...
I like to think I've grown closer to Sayaka in the past year. She's cooled down. Everyone does when they stop being fourteen. As it turns out, I happen to enjoy her company when she's not a threat to herself and everyone around her.
And there's you, of course. I don't have you figured out at all, but you seem well-meaning enough. That's better than a lot of people can say. I still believe your taste in fiction is objectionable, but I can't imagine you're changing anytime soon.
Here's one for free, if you're still into that kind of thing. I don't know. My heart isn't completely in it.
The paradox artifacts are described as forming from the past being altered. The narration refers to them as "large, ghostly figures". One character calls them "A terrible thing. A towering, bone-thin giant, with needle-fine teeth, and a sickening gaze, and a burning light from its fingertips. Legends suggest they feed off the thoughts of others".
That's a wraith. What is being described here is a wraith. If their strength being proportional to the scale of the contradiction is true, that explains how the Law of Cycles seeding itself into every moment in history would populate a planet with them.
The Law...
Maybe that was the moment everything went wrong. Maybe it was earlier. Maybe we're doomed from the moment we're born, maybe not to death, but to something.
I don't want to talk about this anymore.
So, how has the past year treated you?
...
No, that's not going to work. But I'm hardly going to talk about myself any more than I already have. Even if I did, I feel thankful that I can say we wouldn't have much to discuss.
I was top of my class in graduating middle school, but what does that amount to? I feel almost like I cheated, anyway, even though I don't know what else I could have done.
The Kaname family... know about us, now, and I was surprised (although in retrospect I should have expected it) to receive their full support. Alright, full support minus a firm reprimanding for watching violent movies we were too young for.
Isn't that a little tastelessly ironic, given our circumstances?
"Sayaka..."
She looks up.
"We should probably find something for dinner by now, surely?"
She nods. We both stand. I'll stop writing for the time being; we should intermit until I return. So, if you'll forgive me for doing this so soon after last time...
Cut.
I... should not be so easily swayed by the pleasures of the flesh, especially now my body no longer needs for anything, but I just had some pork cutlets. I feel a little better now.
Would you like to go have something? The cafeteria is quiet at this time of night.
No? Forgive me, I still don't understand the rules of your existence.
Kyoko is back, as I knew she would be. She doesn't look at me, though. I could erase her memory of our earlier spat, and maybe I should, but I don't like to use magic anymore.
Yes, yes. Some use of the very thing I sold my soul for, isn't it? Well, while my girlfriend is comatose and I wait for that to change, I'd say it hasn't done me too much good.
Sayaka looks between the two of us. "Are we going to talk about what happened?"
We both answer an immediate no.
"Which is exactly why we need to. Kyoko, I know you're afraid."
She puts her hand on hers. I remember a world, a very early world, before I could protect either of them from themselves. Tomoe had died, and Kyoko intended to claim her territory. From the moment that happened, it was inevitable she'd cross swords with Sayaka. In the world, she'd knocked her down with her spear.
Sayaka didn't get back up.
That day, Kyoko spoke sentiments of pride and rage and hate, but when I was close enough to look into her eyes, I could see she was scared. More scared than any of us. More scared than even me. Sometimes I struggle to think of a time I haven't seen that, hiding just the tiniest bit behind her face.
"I'm fine. I just needed some air."
I chime in. "You're not fine. None of us are fine."
"I've been through worse, and look at me. I'm still holding together."
"Holding together? How long have you been getting by in life holding together?"
Sayaka glares at me. "And you need to stop taking out your dread on her, alright? We're all just responding to the situation differently. We're all suffering."
Then why do I feel so alone in this?
"But I do agree with what you said earlier. We have to be here not just for Madoka, but for each other. So, for however long she's in there, can you just stop taking your frustration out on other people?!"
Kyoko's agreement to her terms is reluctant, but I'm so taken aback I agree on the spot. Often I've found myself having to be the one to mediate between the two of them.
I ask, "Do you think we should talk about what we're going through?"
"If it's gonna get a weight off your chest."
"..."
"I mean, you don't have to."
"I suddenly can't find the words."
She sighs. "...Me neither."
Kyoko shakes her head. "Shame it had to happen to her. She'd know what to say if it was one of us in there."
Is that part of what's upsetting me? I don't know. I feel like nothing without her.
Not that I'll admit it out loud, but I really don't feel like anything if she isn't beside me. I'm just void.
No I'm not.
I wrote that half an hour ago, and it's been ample time to reflect. I don't feel empty. I feel lonely. "Lonely" is just such a terrible word that I dread to use it.
Sayaka yawns. "Well, maybe we can't find the words. But we're all going through the same thing, right? We all understand what it's like."
We aren't even remotely going through the same thing.
"Homura... I know this is difficult for you especially, but you're not the only person in the world who's worried about her. You've got to stop thinking that sitting alone and suffering in silence makes you tough."
"...Hypocrite."
She grins and yawns again. "Well, I guess that's true."
Resting a cheek on her fist, Kyoko groans. "You're not getting tired already? I only just got back."
"Heh, sorry. I've been wearing myself out worrying so much, I might have to pack it in for the night."
The two of them stand. Sayaka looks down at me.
"Are you gonna be alright if we go?"
"Of course."
"Alright, call me in the morning if you get any news before we're here."
"Naturlich."
I'll confess the stress has worn me thin too. Using magic more sparingly has meant I don't have to keep that illusion up anymore, but it does mean hours of concern wears on my appearance like it would a human. I may have to sleep soon, which I haven't needed to do in months. I rise and cross the room.
"Mrs. Kaname?"
Her husband left hours ago to put Tatsuya to bed. If he's fallen asleep himself, I wouldn't blame him. She's stayed behind, on the other hand. I'm grateful. Much as it's been a relief to see the others, the reassurance of seeing an adult in the same boat is life-affirming.
She brushes my hair out of my face. I can't remember when she started doing this. I also don't recall mentioning a lack of kinship with my own parents, but I think she's been kind enough to pick up on it anyway.
"Yes, Homura?"
"You're allowed to sleep in hospital waiting rooms, aren't you?"
"Of course. I know I will be. I brought a blanket in the car."
It looks more like a picnic rug than anything so comfortable, all rough fabric and awkward square proportions. I won't complain, though. Not to anyone but you.
"Would you like some of it?"
"Sure."
I adopt the seat next to her. She drapes it over our legs. I spoke too soon, I think; this is less like a picnic blanket and more akin to a knee rug I had when I was younger.
"Mrs. Kaname?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think she's going to be alright?"
She takes a deep breath. It's not fair of me to ask that when she's been wondering the same thing.
"Well, I've been asking around for answers all afternoon. Nothing looks wrong with her brain or the rest of her body. I was worried she'd had a seizure, but they're calling it unlikely. Really, that raises more questions than answers, but it's good news nonetheless!"
When she says that, I believe it completely.
"What's more, the two of you are still young! When you're young, you can bounce back from things like this."
"You can?"
She smiles. "She told me you were fighting something terrible when you first moved here. Some kind of heart problem?"
"I still am, I guess. But it's not dangerous anymore, and it doesn't hurt."
"See? That's exactly the kind of thing I mean. If you can recover from that, I'm sure she'll be back up and about in no time."
I nod to myself. "I see where she got her bravery from."
"And where did you get it?"
"Where did... I...?"
I wouldn't consider myself brave, but if I am, I know where I'd have gotten it from. I think you do, too.
I don't often sleep. One of sleep's main purposes in the human brain is processing memories, and with all of time inside mine, this isn't necessary. But it does feel nice to relax, now and then. My friends advise I should relax more. If this blows over, maybe.
I'm falling asleep now with my head on her shoulder. It feels, for now, as if everything is going to be fine.
Cut.
I was wrong. I was very, very wrong.
Madoka is awake. She's walking along the walls, singing something to herself, but no sound leaves her lips.
I can't see anything except her. This time that isn't a metaphor. Everything that isn't her is coated in out-of-focus noise.
Are you even getting this? Can you read this? I'm feeling light headed again. I think I might have to cut here.
Cut.
My mouth is dry. That's the first thing I notice. I sleep with my mouth open. That's a first; I imagine I'm beginning to accommodate my fangs.
I don't remember waking in the middle of the night and writing what I did. That scares me. If I don't remember it, it didn't happen at any point in time. So what's going on?
Current time I've spent in this waiting room... fifteen hours, fifty-one minutes, ten seconds.
Mrs. Kaname has already left the room. I expect that was to grab breakfast. I'm not hungry myself, though.
I pull a doctor aside.
"Any update?"
"I'm afraid she's still asleep. She's in a better condition than last night, though."
"How much better?"
"There's a system for measuring the depth of a coma, called the Glasgow Coma Scale."
He recites its name in English. It's all very technical, I'm sure.
"It ranks the responsiveness of a comatose person across three different vectors. Last night, they totaled three points."
"That's low?"
"None lower. Now she's at around six or seven, which, while still considered severe, is a much better state to be in than before."
I wouldn't get my hopes up, if I were you. This condition has been coming and going. If she falls to a four or five (whatever that means) by lunchtime, that would not surprise me.
"Is she a friend of yours?"
I don't answer. I just go back to my seat.
I think what's alarming me the most about this whole situation is that I could feel it coming. Even though it took a while to write itself into a future possibility, I knew something strange was going on. Four and a half months ago, I interrupted your story to tell you I believed things were amiss. Allow me to recount the situation for you. I imagine we have a lot of time to kill.
I entrust this information to you only because I know there's nobody you can tell: Madoka and myself have, on occasion, run off to wraith-hunt alone. Neither of us are the best at determining what constitutes a "date", and though I'm too shy to tell her as much, her way of fighting is utterly beautiful.
The wraiths gather most densely in the late evening, where the border between waking and dreaming is at its thinnest and human thoughts at their most vulnerable. On most nights, one can safely assume that late-night shoppers will be hit.
Each of our home lives provides its own challenges in sneaking out after dark, but we're both well experienced enough. We tryst outside the mall, the same mall we always visit, and transform behind a hedge on the perimeter.
"Should we go our usual route tonight, or try something different?"
I pretend for a moment that she's no creature of habit. The choice is only a courtesy.
"Let's go the normal way. Why don't we see who can make it to the other side the quickest?"
"If it's a matter of speed, should a handicap be put in place?"
She chews her lip over it, then grins in mock pride, shaking her head. "I think even with your time-stopping, I'll still be faster than you."
I privately decide to let her win for that remark. Before I'd interfered in her time stream, she'd been a pretty cocky honor student. As cute as it is to see that return with time, I am standing ready to interfere again if she does something stupid.
We stand before the glass doorway, ready to push our way in, guns and bows akimbo. As we reach for the doors they swing open automatically.
"Huh. They must have fixed the sensor today, mustn't they...?"
"That's anticlimactic. I was hoping we'd get to throw them open again."
The shoppers exist in a blur out of any physical notion of time. The wraiths are dense enough here to present a barricade. They have noticed us, and they know how much stronger we are than humankind.
True to her word, Madoka is faster into the fray than I could ever dream of. Her marksmanship is unmatched. She achieves so much in the span of a single leap that she seems to fly.
My own style is less elegant. I grow tired of embellishing battle for my own amusement; I simply rush the monsters head-on. Anything which fails to get out of the way is burned in a storm of submachine gun fire. In moments where once stood a crowd of wraiths is a miasma quickly collapsing into smoke.
In a better mood than I will have in a hospital waiting room months later, I'm not one for small talk. I prefer to meditate on the profound and the metaphysical. Shallowness bores me, you see.
So I ask, on this night, "What do you think happens to someone after they die?"
"That's sudden... has something happened to a relative of yours?"
"Not at all. It's just a question I thought I knew the answer to when I was young, but now I'm not so sure."
"Oh... I guess I just don't think about it, really." The telepathic signal comes to me in such a sweet tone, but I can tell she's slaughtering a bevy of wraiths as she says it.
"You're a Buddhist, correct?"
For all I'm implying about religious dogma, I am unloading a SPAS-12 into the chest of a Shugen Wraith. I don't recall the Holy Bible ever saying anything about that.
Perhaps I owe it to myself to study apocrypha.
"Hehe, I don't really think about that either. If you wanted me to put something on a survey, I'd probably say so, and if I was seeing my grandparents on a holiday, sure."
"I can't imagine not worrying about my own religion."
"That sounds much more dogmatic than me."
I see her on a bridge running across an upper level. She smiles down at me. I smile back.
"I can assure you: when you're Catholic, worrying is very, very dogmatic."
There's a pause of several seconds. We each return to the race. Then she bowls me over with a much more interesting question:
"What do you *hope* happens when you die?"
I don't have an immediate answer, but I manage to string together, "More of the same."
"Really?"
"One thing I honestly never understood about the Bible is its rejection of the delights of the worldly, when it also states that life on this Earth is a gift from God."
"Oh! That must have been confusing growing up, right?"
"It was. I think I'm more optimistic now, though, and that the latter point rings more true."
"Heh, it makes me happy to hear that."
"I..."
Deep breath. There are some things which need a shot of adrenaline to admit. I confront two wraiths in close quarters with a Sig-Sauer P228 in each hand. A shot into each of their three highest chakras.
(When they drop, I find myself at the exit. I should circle back, wait for her to beat me out, then follow.)
"I need to confess, I owe that optimism to you."
"Heh, it makes me happy to hear that."
"I- hang on, are you repeating yourself?"
"Heh, it m
Everything after that is just a pure tone. I sprint back. I've done a lot of running, of course, but I don't remember another time I've ever sprinted.
She's detoured through the clothes section of some B-budget department store. At first I think she's standing in the middle of it, not blinking, not breathing, just staring into the changing rooms now packed with wraiths hiding from her, hiding for their lives. Wraiths don't feel fear. They don't feel anything. That's why they have to subsist off the emotional energy of humans. Then I notice Madoka is not standing in the middle of the room.
She's standing an inch above it.
The tone cuts out, and she flinches. She looks at me as if she's seeing me for the first time.
I ask her, "Are you alright?"
She looks, mortified, at the changing rooms, then at me, then nods. She's clearly uneasy at the knees.
I take her hand. We walk out together, decide to call it a draw, and don't really speak of it again after that. But that was the moment my hunch was no longer a hunch. That was the moment I knew something was very, very wrong.
Cut.
My recount took both more willpower and more time to write than I expected it would. So much so that hours have passed and the two lovebirds are back already. They greet me in turn. Kyoko pats me on the back too hard.
"How long have you been here?"
I don't meet her eye. "Seventeen hours, forty-eight minutes, and thirty-three seconds."
"Wow. But who's counting, right? You're like the dog that died."
I'd ask her to be more specific, but I really, really don't care.
"You know? The dude with the statue of him."
She snaps her fingers.
"Hachiko, that's right! You know Hachiko?"
"Do I know Hachiko? I'm from Tokyo. What do you think?"
"Right."
"The statue's a remake, anyway. They melted the original down in the war to make bullets."
"What, so it's not the same thing? Okay, Nietzsche. I didn't realize we were only recognizing atoms and the void today."
She sits in the seat she occupied yesterday. Sayaka does the same. One of them says something or other about me having a problem. I'm not listening to them. I'm thinking. If they knew what being "deep in thought" meant to someone of my... well, I remain unconvinced they'd survive the experience.
Am I a dog?
Not literally, of course (if I was an animal, I would be something cooler, like a tiger, or a shark). But am I a dog in the (well, I suppose a wolf is a kind of dog. Wolves are cool.) sense of possessing an inhuman loyalty and obedience?
Obviously, yes. And I know this is terrible. So why don't I want for anything else? What's wrong with me?
We're only here in the first place because I took it too far. That much I feel terrible about. I think I should be feeling worse, though. I feel bad for even contemplating distracting myself from what I've done, but I feel even worse if I don't...
Distract...
Hold on. Seriously hold on here. Do people in Mitakihara not know who Hachiko is, or is Kyoko specifically just that ignorant? I don't want to believe either of those things.
Look. I'm doing it right now.
Don't look at me like that, I think she was right. I think it's a waste of time to not even try lightening up. I don't mean to. It's only instinct by now to block the things I can't change from my mind, because the alternative is a useless mindset in the confines of a month-narrow time loop.
Maybe I should think about it this way. If I'm going to vilify myself for being some selfish hedonist, I may as well give in to my impulses. There's no point blaming myself for something until I actually start doing it.
I shouldn't be rejecting my emotions. They've brought Madoka back to the land of the living in two worlds now.
It would be nice if I could make it happen a third time, though.
For the first time today, I gather the strength to ask reception if I can see her again. The verdict is an apologetic no, no visiting is permitted before 10 A.M.. I return to my seat with the bad news.
Kyoko shrugs. "Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. You've got no reason to hang around here until then, so why don't we get out? It'll be good for ya!"
"No. I need to be here, in case something happens."
"You remember what happened to the dog, right...?"
I seethe. I'd raised the possibility of letting my emotions get the better of me, and already it's happening. "I am not a dog."
"Hey! I'm not outright saying you are. All I'm gonna say is waiting around a room like this, full of people who are either sick or deathly worried after someone who is, is not the best use of your time."
Sayaka follows up, "Please, try to think of it from our points of view. What do you think we'd rather have: one of our best friends stuck in the hospital, or two?"
It's the "best friends" part that gets under my skin. I can't imagine what I must look like to them, but I know it isn't that. I haven't been kind enough to earn it.
...
Have I?
...
No, surely not. They're playing games with me.
I have a mind the size of a universe, and still there is no raw logical intuition for solving if other people like me or not.
C...
Cut?
There's always an undeserved hostility bearing down on me at the Tomoe household. I sit and drink tea like anyone else, and the dear host glares something raw and emotionless into me. Nagisa is in her room, and the other two are bickering about something inconsequential. There is no saving me. Well, there is no saving me in a slightly different way to what is usual.
Tomoe smiles. She always looks too satisfied with herself when she does. I found that reassuring when she was my mentor, but as of our stint as nemeses, deeply pretentious.
She stirs her tea. "So, how have things been since yesterday?"
I let a lack of answer speak for itself.
"You haven't come bearing bad news, have you?"
"Everything is already bad enough."
"Ah! I was only asking, because your expression made me worry things had taken a turn for the worse."
"Worse? There is no worse."
"Aren't you glad, at least, that she's still with us?"
I sip my tea. How am I supposed to answer that?
"I'm sorry. Should we talk about something else, perchance?"
Did she say "perchance"? Who does that?
"What else do we have to talk about?"
"Well..."
She looks among the three of us.
"How's high school been treating you all?"
Kyoko shrugs. "Eh, more of the same."
Sayaka smacks her on the back of the head. "Yeah, mooching my notes is gonna be the same no matter where you do it, isn't it?"
"Hey, I don't do that... as much, now."
"Yeah, sure. You mean while I'm looking, I bet."
Tomoe smirks. "Trouble in paradise?"
"I believe this is how the two of them preface genuine affection."
Sayaka crosses her arms. "And genuine passive-aggression, thank you very much!"
Dare I call her as much openly, but by now it's probably apparent - her girlfriend grins. "She can only hit my head from the back, because she wouldn't dare damage something she thinks is this gorgeous."
"I wish she would."
"Hey!"
Life in loops comes with a certain... urgency? I'm not sure if there is a word for what I mean, but despite my immortality, I've developed what I'll be the first to admit is a short temper. Annoyance, I think, overrides any other emotion. Therefore, a conversation as irritating as this provides a much-needed relief.
I'll intermit my writing for the time being to give them my full attention, so...
Cut.
It's been hours.
We have, the four of us, been back in the waiting room for three of those hours. I wanted to be back sooner for 10 A.M. sharp, but the others aren't so punctual. Still, we arrived, and I visited her, and I was reminded that happiness is such a fleeting, ephemeral thing. You remember I expected her to be back at a four or five by noon? It goes to show I know what I'm talking about.
We've sat in the waiting room ever since. The possibility that things might never get better has escaped me. If so, then the annals of our lives will forever show that the last I ever heard of her voice was her asking, "Maybe we could go somewhere for lunch on Sunday?"
And the last thing I ever said to her was, "I don't see why not."
"I don't see why not." Not "I love you," or "You are the most beautiful woman to grace my life with her presence," or "Can we just stay in this moment a little longer?" No, nothing so romantic. "I don't see why not."
I decide to check up on her again. There's still so much I want to tell her.
I...
I think it's easier to talk to her, knowing she can't hear.
Does that make sense?
Probably not, but I try anyway: "I love you."
I've said it hundreds of times before, but it's never been this easy.
"I love you in a way nobody has ever loved another before. I have laid down to die on countless worlds I left to burn, each time thinking it would let you live. I have lost track of a hundred lives to dream of just one where I can make you happy. I have rent the universe into its current shape, atom by atom, so that you-!"
Am I doing well? I was so much braver in the speech I imagined I'd be giving.
"This isn't my first life. These aren't our first lives. We've smashed and rebuilt this world timeline and timeline again, because we see... because we see such... horrible anguish in each other. And nobody else can see it. No matter how hard they try, nobody can see how much we hurt. It's just us. I thought I could save you one last time, but look what it did to you...!"
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
It takes a lot to make me cry like this. You should probably go.
"No, it's no trouble. Please stay."
Did...?
No, surely not.
"And you shouldn't have to apologize so much, darling..."
She opens her eyes.
She opens her eyes!
"Madoka! You're alright!"
I don't hug her, won't until she regains her strength. I do give her my hand to help herself sit up, at least. Her grip is frail.
She rubs her eyes. "That's funny. I could have sworn there was someone else in the room with you just now."
"They already left. A nurse."
"Oh. I thought I heard you asking them to leave. Maybe that was it."
She can't read this, can she?
Goodness, I hope not.
"It would have been. How are you feeling?"
She bites her lip. "That clock over there says about ten past one, right?"
She points. I follow.
"Yes."
"Last thing I remember... it was in the middle of the afternoon. The power had just gone out, and I felt really tired. Was that yesterday?"
"Yes. I hear you fell asleep around that time."
"So I've been asleep for about 22 hours now...?!"
I nod.
"It's funny. I don't feel very well rested at all."
On the other hand, I haven't slept since, but talking to her now has eased every ounce of tension in what I might call my body, if I had a better sense of humor.
"Everyone's been so worried about you. Is it alright if I call them in now, or do you need some time?"
"No, no, I'm fine. They can come. Does anyone have my glasses?"
"I believe your mother brought them with her."
Hadn't I mentioned? Once again, a lot has happened in a year. Some people say it makes her resemble her father a little, but she finds these comments hurtful, for obvious reasons.
Kyoko and Sayaka have resumed their earlier seating position in the opposite corner of the waiting room from where I enter. Mrs. Kaname is deep in conversation with the latter, so it's the former who notices me first. She can tell immediately by my relieved grin what has happened. I see her ask, then urge, then demand the attention of the other two. Once all their eyes are on me, I nod. They approach me excitedly. Tomoe enters, carrying some cheese-based snack just out of Nagisa's reach. Noticing the room, they both follow.
"She's awake. She's weak and tired, but she's awake. At least, I hope she hasn't fallen back asleep."
"Oh, thank goodness."
Her mother hugs me. She knows I'm no good with hugs, but I think the situation calls for it.
Tomoe frets, "Are we allowed in?"
"I went in. I've been talking to her."
"So she's lucid?"
"Yes."
We arrive at her room. She's standing at the window now, one hand on the glass. Her reflection is still in bed. The clock hasn't moved since she woke up, either. I pretend not to notice these things.
As we file into the room and greet her, she turns to return the gesture. One step over, and her legs give out.
If her mother weren't here, I'd cut to grabbing her. I don't like having to do nothing. Rather, I don't like having to help her at a pace as slow as time.
I pull her upright. Kyoko helps. We each ask if she's alright.
"Haha, I'm fine. Just a little tired."
This is Madoka's way of saying, "This is terrible, I don't understand what's going on, and I don't want to talk about it at all".
We help her back onto the bed. Her mother presents her glasses.
Look at them. They're adorable on her.
With a smile, she reassures everyone that she's alright, that we have nothing to worry about, and so forth. I don't pay much attention because I don't believe any of it.
"Hey!"
There is a nurse standing in the doorway. She's glaring at me, specifically, but facing away from the room. She must have just been passing by. "No more than two visitors at a time."
Everyone but myself and Mrs. Kaname nominate themselves to leave through giggles of unintended mischief, all telling Madoka that they'll have to catch up some time in the week.
Satisfied, the nurse elaborates, "Come on, Akemi. You know the rules."
"Do I? I never had any visitors myself."
She shakes her head and leaves. I remember her by my bedside two years ago, now. I should have remembered her: I saw her once a month for thirteen years. I'm amazed she remembers me, though, because she would have seen me only in the few days post-op.
Madoka sits completely still for a while afterwards, not speaking. My hand is on her back. Her mother has told us both something about maybe talking to a doctor shortly, but I don't think we're listening all that well. I whisper to her with a glance that makes it clear my question is private.
"How do you feel?"
"Fine, really."
"No. How do you feel?"
I admire her composure, but dishonesty has never been her strong suit.
"I can't feel my legs right now."
"Not at all?"
She frowns. "I just feel faint or numb sometimes. It's never felt this bad before, though..."
"How long have you felt like this? Slightly longer than a year?"
"I... how did you know?"
"Only a suspicion I had. I didn't bring it up because I was afraid of making you self-conscious. If I'd known..."
She pulls my face to hers and kisses me.
"You worry too much. You always have."
If anyone else said this, I'd hate them. When she says it, it's more like a statement of fact.
"Is it bad enough that I can worry now?"
I didn't mean it like a joke, but she tries to keep down a laugh. Hearing it, I begin to notice that her speech is a little unclear in parts.
"Sure, sure. Worry all you like. I'm not- why are you looking at me like that...?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know, like if you let go of me you might fade away."
"That's my way of worrying."
"Homura... I haven't had a stroke or a major concussion or anything like that... have I?"
"No."
"You answered that very quickly."
"Mrs. Kaname?"
Her mother nods.
"Reports showed no sign of any brain damage, isn't that right?"
"That's right."
Madoka flops backward onto the bed. "Oh, thank goodness. I haven't talked to a doctor yet, so nobody's told me anything. What do they think happened?"
I lie next to her. "No idea. Maybe you were sensitive to whatever caused the power to go out?"
At this juncture, everything points to her falling unconscious causing the blackout in the first place. But you understand I don't want to tell anyone that.
"This has gone on longer than that, though..."
"I really don't know, then."
She swallows. "Mama, can you please call a nurse?"
"Is everything alright?"
"I just want to know about my condition... I was just telling Homura I still can't feel my legs."
She lies, badly, but her mother is so unused to hearing her lie that it never crosses her mind she might be.
"Of course. Should I tell them that?"
She nods pensively. Her mother leaves us alone. Even secure in privacy, she can only whimper, "Homura..."
"Yes, my love?"
"Am I... dying?"
"I- I... I don't know."
She looks down at herself.
"I don't believe so. You were said to be in perfect health."
"Okay."
"What makes you ask?"
"Nothing. It's... nothing."
I lift her chin so that our eyes meet. "You know you can tell me anything, of course...?"
"I know."
Mrs. Kaname returns with a nurse, who diligently presents a cheap-looking wheelchair. I wouldn't want to be one to judge, but I know what better ones look like. This is "take this to the parking lot then go buy your own" class. Still, he's just a nurse. I can't blame him.
"Ms. Kaname?" he asks.
"That's right..."
"I've... double checked, and there's no sign of ill health we commonly find associated with comas. You have no record of epilepsy, or diabetes... we took you to the MRI when you were admitted, and there were no signs of seizure or brain injury, or anything of that sort. We have no idea how this happened."
Her mother demands, "No idea? What do you mean, no idea?"
"Well, exactly that. Of course, this comes with the good news that you're in perfect health. I myself am not a doctor, but I know enough to expect you'll be back to normal in a matter of days. Would you like to see a doctor? It would be no trouble to find one."
Oh? It would be easy to find a doctor in a hospital in the middle of the day? I can't wait to find out what other nuggets of profound wisdom he's going to bless our precious time with.
"I'm fine... I'll be fine once I'm awake longer. Is that for me?" Madoka whispers, and nods at the chair. I can see how much she dreads the answer, but I don't know what else to tell her. I only ask, "Is that alright?"
"I guess..."
She wouldn't have been any clearer if she'd said an outright no.
"Do you need help getting into it?"
She shakes her head, slides off the bed, and staggers her way over and into the chair.
Her mother asks, "How do you feel?"
"I'll be fine to walk soon, it's okay."
"Still... you look exhausted. You should relax until we get home, at least."
The nurse lifts the brake. I barge in and tell him, "Allow me to assist her."
"I'm glad to see that you care about your friend, but I'm not sure you understand how complicated it-"
"Stand up tall when pushing the chair. Always apply both brakes when stationary. Ensure the chair will not fall over when she transfers in or out of it, and if I must help carry her weight while doing so, always bend from the knees, rather than the back. Avoid crossing surfaces with sand or dirt on them. Always approach the curb from the perpendicular, but slopes obliquely. I still have an old pair of DVT compression socks lying around in near-new condition, if she's going to spend longer than expected in the chair. Was there anything else you were going to tell me?"
"I- I see! So this is nothing new to you?"
"It's rare something is."
Then, to Madoka, I say, "Let's get you home, alright?"