I don't own any characters :(
The sand whipped in the wind, forcing me to breathe through my sleeve. The last thing I had remembered was going to sleep under that withered old tree outside Tokyo. Now, all I saw around me were sand dunes and vast nothingness. I was alone.
"Homura-chan?" I called out. "Sayaka-chan? Kyōko-chan?"
It was a futile effort. I saw no-one in any direction. The gusts of wind blew harder, forcing me to cover my eyes. Where was I? There was only one explanation. This was a witch's barrier, even though it looked normal. Too normal. But then, where was everyone else? Were they all separated as well? I hope none of them got caught by the witch.
I begin to walk, shouldering my backpack. My steps kick up sand, adding it to the ever-swirling sandstorm around me. An oddity about the place strikes me. The desert is not scorching like it should be. I bend down, running my hand through the soft sand. It does not burn. It was pleasantly cool, spilling through my fingers as I lift up a handful. I continue walking. I walk. An hour passes. I walk. Two hours pass. I walk. I lose track of time. At some point, I stumble upon a small rock cluster, with just enough space for me to squeeze in and avoid the whipping sand.
My backpack feels heavier than I remember. I take this opportunity to check on what I have with me, emptying the contents onto the ground. A handkerchief, a small multi-tool (Homura's insistence), a bottle of water, some cans of food. My face finds itself in my hands. I was in a lot of trouble. Do I stay put and wait for the others to find me? Do I try to look for them?
A faint voice pushes through the howling of the wind. It sounded a lot like Kyōko.
"...Pinkie!...ver….here!"
I scramble to shove everything back in my bag and climb out of the little cave. The voice had came from my right, and I turned. Nothing. There was nothing but sand to be seen. Still, maybe I could shout back? Maybe she would hear me and come towards me.
"Kyōko-chan! Can you hear me?" I call. My voice is piteously tiny compared to the vicious sandstorm. No answer. My voice shrinks. "Kyōko-chan?"
Perhaps it was my imagination. I return to the alcove. An idea pops up in my head. I quickly search my backpack, pulling out my handkerchief and the multi-tool. After untying my hair ribbons, I cut two small holes in the handkerchief and thread my ribbons through it, tying the ribbons around my ears so that the cloth is covering my nose and mouth. I tug it a little to make sure it won't fall off easily before stepping back out into the desert. The wind is harsher than before. Sand coats my hair, getting caught deep in the strands.
Hours have passed since I woke up. The sun was still high in the sky. Plenty of daylight for me to keep moving. My hair is now hanging freely, moving with the wind. I take a step forward. The wind blows harder against me. I struggle to take another step. Sand gets into my left eye. Instantly, tears spill out of my eyes, attempting to expel the invasive particles. My throat is parched; I forgot to drink water while I was still in the cover of the rocks. Through all of this, only one thought occupies my mind.
'I have to find Homura-chan…'
About an hour later, laughing filled the desert. The sun was setting, still visible over the horizon. I looked around. Coming from all directions was laughter, but it wasn't the laughter of children. It was an eerie kind of laughter, one which brought a chill to my spine. I hear a clang of metal beside me, followed by silence. Then, the sound of blunt metal hitting flesh sounded, followed by a thud on the ground. I had no idea what that meant. Nothing good could come of it, though. Nothing good ever came from witch barriers. The laughter stopped.
The sandstorm had subsided, leaving grains of sand stuck to my hair. I kept the makeshift face mask on just in case, only taking it off once to drink some water. The sky was a soft orange, with some deep blue of the nighttime to the east. Something was off. Every barrier I've been in, which is very few because Homura always prevents me, has had familiars. I've encountered none so far. Not that I'm complaining. I find another rock formation, this one shaped like an arch. Plopping my bag down and using it as a pillow, I decide to sleep. Before I do so, I move the multitool from the bag to my pocket. It's not much, but the small knife on it is at least something if I run into trouble.
The desert is calm. No wind. No movement. Just silence and stillness. The cold was bitter, and my jacket did little to keep me warm. The sky is still bright to the west as the sun continued setting. Things were changing too fast. The sand was uncomfortable. Unable to shift into a better position, I sit up and search through my bag again. I don't know why. It was more to keep me occupied than anything, I guess. After a while, I lie down again. I toss and turn. I sigh. Minutes tick by slowly, and hours feel agonizingly long.
Sometime in those hours, I got up and continued my aimless walking. I have to find the others. I have to find the others. I have to find… the others… I… I… was no longer in a desert? The sand was gone, vanished like ghosts. In its place were tall trees, grass, and rivers. It was now a forest. Looking around, I could see a pillar of smoke in the distance. A fire. Maybe one of the others was there.
My breath hitches as I run. I stumble a few times, tripping on rocks, on vines, on roots. The smoke gets closer. Branches snap as I step on them, creating a loud cracking noise which rings through the forest. As I run, I take off my makeshift face mask that I had made in the desert. The smoke gets closer. Closer. I could see a small clearing ahead. I slow my pace down to a walk, catching my breath. The clearing was right in front of me now, just behind a few trees.
A loud snap rings beneath my feet. A flash of light blinds me, and I look away. In an instant, a blue figure is in front of me, holding a sword. It was Sayaka.
"Sayaka-chan!"
"Madoka?"
She looked dazed. We stare at each other for a moment. Then, wordlessly, we sit down by the fire she had made. She speaks first.
"So...you haven't seen Kyōko or the transfer student?"
"No. I was in a desert."
"A desert? I've seen nothing by forests. How did you get here?"
"I walked. The desert just vanished and I found myself here."
We fell into silence again, and I took the opportunity to look around. A river could be seen not too far from the clearing. Several of Sayaka's swords were arranged around the fire to hold up one of the swords hanging above the fire. On the sword were fish. She noticed me staring.
"I caught some from the river earlier. Kyōko had all our food in her bag before we met up with you and transfer student outside Tokyo. Want some?"
I nod. She takes the sabre off the fire, then in another flash of light, creates more swords to make a stand away from the fire. The sabre with the fish is placed on the new stand.
"Let it cool a bit," she says. "I'm going to go get more water from the river."
She gets up and walks away. I close my eyes again, having missed a night of sleep in the desert. I can almost hear the howling winds of the desert again. I could feel it too. My eyes snap open. Sand. Sand everywhere, but the firepit is still there. The firepit is still there, and the fire is still burning despite the wind. Sayaka's swords are gone. Her bag is gone. She's gone. Had I imagined it? I drink another gulp of water, feeling the liquid wash the grit out of my throat, before putting my face mask back on.
Then, I walk.
How long has it been? A day? A week? I don't know. I've lost track of time in here. Each day is the same: sand whipping through the desert. I don't open my mouth anymore, except to drink water in tiny sips. The sand is everywhere. In my hair. In my eyes. It even gets past the handkerchief tied around my mouth and nose. I have sand in my nose, on my tongue. No matter. I walk.
Is this really a witch's barrier? I should be dead already. I walk all day, then all night. Sleep eludes me. Something is… not quite right with my thoughts. My mind feels sluggish, as if I were wading through quicksand. At some point which I do not recall, I cried. The dried tear tracks on my cheeks are uncomfortable, and I try to rub them away. Sand. The wind howls, buffeting me with sand. I walk.
How long has it been? A week? A month? I'm out of water. I've been out of water for some time. Yet I do not collapse or die. Sometimes, the sand dunes look the same to me. Perhaps the desert is one big circle. No one in sight. No rock formations to take shelter in. No water. No food. My hair is dusted brown with sand. No pink is visible. My throat is sore. All that comes out when I attempt to speak is a croak. The sand grows heavier, and I cannot see into the distance. I walk.
How long has it been? Three months? Six? A year? The last person I saw had blue hair. I do not remember her name. The person I need to find has black hair. I do not remember her name. A red-haired figure haunts my thoughts. I do not remember her name. Perhaps, what alarms me most is that I do not remember my own name. The sand is like a dream. The sand is always with me. I am never alone. I remove my handkerchief. The sand engulfs me. The sand tells me I do not need it. The pink cloth floats away in the wind, disappearing into the flurry of sand. Two red ribbons lay in my grip, and I put them into my bag. I walk.
How long has it been? I do not know. It feels like an eternity. The sand is my only companion. I have no voice. The sand does not care. The sand will not abandon me. I cannot hear past the wind, but the sand can convey itself to me. Vague memories play in my mind, like an old silent film in a theatre. A blue-haired...boy? Girl? I don't know. An image of a toddler stabbing at a cherry tomato appears in my head. He looks familiar. The sand washes the image away. The image is irrelevant. I need only the sand. Why am I walking? I stop.
Where am I? Who am I? I do not remember. The desert is all I remember. The desert, and...a girl. With...black hair. I try to think of her name. Nothing. The sand obstructs my vision completely, but I do not need to see. The wind deafens my ears, but I do not need to listen. The dryness lines my throat, but I do not need to speak. The sand will guide me where I need to go. The sand will take me to the black-haired girl. I close my eyes.
I walk.
A/N:
I live! I have risen from the ashes of...something after being smashed to bits by university work. I spent a lot of time deleting and rewriting this one, and I'm still kind of on the fence about how I will proceed with the next few chapters, but I think this one has become something I like a decent amount. Reviews pls :D lemme know if you liked (or didn't like) this. Or just leave your reactions. Anything is fine, really. Cheers!
EDIT 29/03/2017: I'd just like to take this opportunity to remember a guy from the band I'm in who recently passed away. Won't name him, but just wanted to remember him somehow. Rest in peace, mate.