#because third being yanked around to emotional highs and lows was horrible to watch already regardless of whether or not khai meant it…

[deliriousblue]

is it good or bad that we don't have a memory eraser like in MIB?

THEORY OF LOVE (2019) episode 6

[carolnein]

cleaned up some old pmmm fics for reposting. got three homura-centric rebellion ones in here, under the readmore

1) Kyoko finds Homura’s earring, worries about her once she hears it

2) AUish/continuation. Everyone regains their memories, Homura and Madoka talk about it some

3) Same continuity as 2. Homura convinces Kyoko to join her (cw for emotional manipulation and intentionally triggering someone)

[1, Kyoko and Homura]

“Homura!” Kyoko pounded at her door, the lizard earring clenched in her fist. This thing could break for all she cared, it didn’t matter that it didn’t belong to her. Nothing good was going to come from the little monster. “Open the door before I break it!”

Kyoko was seriously considering smashing her foot into the handle when it finally opened, and Homura stood in the doorway with that silently-angry expression. “Give it back.”

“Not yet.” Kyoko opened her hand just enough to show that she had it, and used up nearly all of her willpower to not drop it in disgust when it started wriggling. “We need to talk first. What exactly is this?”

“It’s mine.” Homura reached out to try and grab it, but Kyoko held her hand up above her head, too high for Homura to reach. “Kyoko, I’m serious.”

“I’m being serious, too. Explain.” Kyoko made her face as stern as she could. “What the hell are you doing to yourself?”

“Inside.” Homura yanked Kyoko through the door by her collar and locked the door behind her. “It’s magic, I can’t explain it all.”

“Then what can you explain?” Kyoko’s remaining composure was spent not falling apart under Homura’s withering glare, and she tossed the earring back. “I’m not leaving until I’m satisfied.”

She watched with mild horror as it crawled its way up Homura’s shoulder and settled around her ear. That thing was just creepy.

“It’s… part of my contract. You know I won’t talk about that.”

"What could that have to do with anything?” Kyoko crossed her arms. “Is this why you hate yourself so much?”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t give me that crap.” Kyoko was absolutely not in the mood to put up with Homura’s denial. “I heard the things it says. Why are you putting yourself through that?”

“Because I have to.” Homura turned away to take a seat, but Kyoko followed her to the couch. “I’m not telling you any more.”

“Then let me talk. I know you have my number, we’re arguing all the time,” Kyoko said. Arguing was fun, but now she worried that their bickering might’ve pushed Homura closer to the edge. “So when you have to listen to that thing, just call me instead.”

Homura raised an eyebrow. “So I can listen to your chewing?”

“Make fun of me all you want, it’s better than hearing that thing.” Kyoko narrowed her eyes at the earring. “Is it talking to you now?”

“It doesn’t always.” Homura didn’t give a real answer, but Kyoko didn’t bring up how suspicious that was.

“I’m gonna call you, and you’d better answer.” Kyoko was going to call her five times a day, just to make sure she picked up at least once.

“Why?” Homura looked confused; not upset like Kyoko thought she might, just confused.

“Because you’re my friend, you damn moron.” Kyoko stood, letting Homura know she wasn’t going to pry any further right now. “I’m worried about you.”

Homura looked away, not acknowledging it. “I’ll lock the door behind you.”

--

It was the third time Kyoko tried calling since that afternoon, and Homura finally picked up with a blunt, “What do you want?”

“Nothing, I’m just calling. What are you doing?” Kyoko was nursing a large bag of chips while watching TV; maybe Homura was doing something more entertaining.

There was a pause on the other end before Homura answered. “TV.” So not anything more fun. “Is there a point to this call?”

“You’re not allowed to go for 15 minutes, then you can hang up.”

There was a load groan on the other end before Homura said, “I’ll be counting.”

Neither of them said much for the time, but Homura faithfully waited until exactly 15 minutes had passed to hang up without warning.

“Heh, moron,” Kyoko said to the dial tone. She would have to do this tomorrow, too.

[2: Homura and Madoka]

It wasn’t even eight PM, but Madoka laid in her bed, facing the ceiling. She tried counting all the little dots just to focus on something, but never made it past five. Her eyes would glaze over, or she would just completely forget the next number like a child who was still learning to count to ten. If something changed and all that mattered in the world was counting every speck on the walls and ceiling in her bedroom, that would be an improvement.

She remembered. Not once did she think that there would be a memory so awful that she would rather forget it, but today she learned that happened. And she couldn’t figure out what she did wrong that caused it.

Counting some barely-visible dots in the dark was more appealing, anyways.

Her phone rang, the cheery ringtone directly conflicting with her mood and almost bringing it down further. If it didn’t display Sayaka’s name she probably wouldn’t have answered it. But Sayaka remembered, too.

“Are you okay?” Sayaka’s voice was aggressive and sudden. It was supposed to be a comforting question, but she sounded as angry as Madoka was tired.

Madoka wanted to say yes, but the word wouldn’t leave her throat. “I don’t know.”

“I still can’t believe this.” Her voice held a rough grumble from keeping it low; her parents would still be awake at this time. “I can’t figure out what we can do to fix it.”

“Me neither.” She didn’t tell her that she hadn’t even thought about it. Every time she tried her mind and body froze, stuck in some feeling between drowning and crying so hard it was a struggle to breathe.

“You don’t sound okay.” It was like a threat directed at no one. That was wrong, though; Madoka knew every single bitter word Sayaka said was aimed at Homura, even though she wasn’t there. Sayaka had insisted that this was all Homura’s fault, but Madoka didn’t agree.

“I’ll just go to sleep soon, it’ll be okay.” When she woke up, surely she would still remember all of this. The world was still messed up. She wasn’t going to be okay.

“No, I’m coming over.” There was a brief silence. “When my parents go to bed, I’m coming over. Leave your window unlocked.”

“Sayaka-chan, it’s fine. Stay at your house.” She just wanted this horrible day to end. Sleeping wouldn’t fix anything, but it might refresh her mind enough to do anything except lay in bed and wanting to cry.

“I mean it. I…I just think both of us need some company right now, you know?” It wasn’t just an offer, Sayaka needed her. This was a confusing request; Madoka had already proven to be completely useless when relied upon. Sayaka could have gone anywhere else.

“I’ll see you later….”

“Be ready for me.” Sayaka hung up first, thankfully before she would hear Madoka’s breathing become unsteady as she was left with her own thoughts again.

If she didn’t unlock the window, Sayaka would probably break through. It took that fear to drag her out of bed to flip the lock open. When she went to return to the comfort of her blankets, she noticed someone else in the room.

Madoka couldn’t tell if her heart was racing out of fear or excitement. Her mind tore at her with past memories and new memories, ripping her in different directions. The new fear that drove her to hide or scream, but the old habit to happily rush forward. She was frozen instead, pained by her inability to move or even know how to feel.

“Homura-chan…”

“Isn’t it dangerous to leave your window unlocked at night?” Homura couldn’t have looked any different from her. Calm and composed despite the many, many things wrong.

“It didn’t stop you from coming in.” Madoka wished that sounded as threatening and accusatory as she intended, but the way her voice cracked gave away how unsure she was.

“Wouldn’t it be a shame after all this, it was just a simple burglar that ended it all?” She sat in one of her chairs, with the posture of a queen right out of a storybook. It matched the twisted expression that Madoka only now realized wasn’t just from being tired.

“Why do you look like that?” Madoka asked, with nothing else to say. Those dead eyes and cruel smile were uncharacteristic of the Homura she thought she knew.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t make that face.” Her hands clenched into tiny fists and she looked down, unable to stare at Homura any longer. “I…I don’t like it.”

“Then why don’t you do something to fix it?” Madoka wasn’t looking, but she was sure she held the same expression. “Didn’t you always like to help others?”

“I can’t….” Everything she did, and everything still turned out like this. “I can’t help you.”

She wanted Homura to say something to distract her, but she was quiet for a while. Eventually, she just said, “Why not?”

“I lost my chance. I ruined everything. And I tried to save you, but I couldn’t.” Her wish was to save magical girls, so that Homura could live a normal life. And she really did mess that up, so badly that Homura had to take control. “Just leave and do what you have to.”

Again, silence. Madoka didn’t risk glancing upwards when she heard a shuffling noise and soft footsteps. Homura stopped in front of her — Madoka could see her legs from there — and touched the edges of her hair. “You kept my ribbons.”

“They were mine,” was all Madoka could say.

“Of course, they always were.” Homura’s hand lingered there for just a moment too long before she pulled back, frozen in the space between them. “What is it you want?”

“I just want us to be happy again,” Madoka said, voice wavering. “I can help you, if you don’t think I’ll get—”

“No.” Homura never raised her voice, but it was forceful enough to stop Madoka from speaking. Normally Homura was emotional, and the new memories showing Madoka her old role as her rock only supported that. But not now; Madoka wasn’t used to Homura being so together. “I want you to do nothing.”

Madoka couldn’t force out a confirmation. Homura thought she was useless. She really was, but to have someone so important to her agree with it, she was speechless. Homura’s hand started to move towards her face, and Madoka backed up with a squeak to shut down a shocked cry, and squeezed her eyes shut.

Unexpectedly, she didn’t feel Homura’s hand against her. So, so quiet, nothing but the sound of their breathing. She cracked an eye open to see her holding it in place, only inches from her face but respectfully distant.

“Now that you remember,” Homura spoke first, “are you going to oppose me?”

“I….” Madoka said, thinking it over for the first time. Sayaka immediately decided they needed to fight. But they were happy in Homura’s version of the world. When Madoka ruled, Sayaka was dead and Homura had just died. But they were all here now, and everything was happy until she remembered the time it wasn’t. It would have been better to forget, and not know how badly she ruined everything. “I don’t want to fight you, and I don’t think you should have to do this alone….”

Madoka flinched when Homura lifted her hand to touch her chin with her thumb and forefinger, not forcing her head up, only resting them there. “I have to do this alone, because nobody else can.”

She gulped hard before speaking again. “I think it’s my responsibility to help you, since I caused it.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Homura said gently. Madoka expected to hear something more accusatory, to drive in the point that it was her fault. “I’ll take care of everything now.”

“But you don’t look happy with this.” Madoka stopped when she felt Homura’s thumb move along her jaw, but mustering the tiniest remains of courage, she continued. “It’s not fair that we can’t be happy, and if you would just let me help, we could be.”

Her hopes were only as high as she would allow them to be, but even that small bit crashed down when Homura finally said, “I can never be happy with you, Madoka.”

Homura’s hand dropped, but Madoka wanted her to stay. She needed an explanation, or any sort of validation. All she wanted was Homura’s happiness even above her own, but…. “Why?”

“You could never understand.” She stepped away, and Madoka snapped her head up to stop her. “Your friend Sayaka Miki is coming soon, correct?”

“She is later.” That wasn’t going to be for a while. “But Sayaka has nothing to do with us right now, you don’t have to go.”

“Goodbye, Madoka.”

“Please, just tell me why!” Homura disappeared in a short flash of darkness, exchanging no further words.

In the back of her mind, Madoka hoped her parents hadn’t heard that outburst. Most pressing on her thoughts was that she wasn’t sure what to do with the sudden flood of emotions. Couldn’t call Sayaka, she was coming over for that exact reason. Couldn’t call Homura either.

She was too stunned and exhausted to cry, although that seemed the obvious course of action. This wasn’t a problem she could bring to her mother, no matter how she tried to phrase it to sound mundane. It was too early to sleep, but she was sure she couldn’t even if she tried.

Before this, she was lying in bed. That was a good place to start. Just lay in bed waiting for Sayaka, so that she could tell her the other ways she messed up.

[3: Homura and Kyoko again]

Fighting with Homura had never been unusual for Kyoko. Starting from the day they met, it escalated from passive-aggressive jabs to petty arguing, and occasionally sparring taken a little too far. She wished she could say there had never been any hurt feelings involved, because until recently that was true.

The emotional pain should have been enough on its own, knowing somebody out there was horrible enough to have taken down their god figure like that. Kyoko hadn’t decided if it was worse that, that person was such a close friend, or that she hadn’t noticed a close friend was in that kind of trouble. Every conversation came back to her, from Homura insisting that she just couldn’t sleep because of school, to some blatant statements about what God meant to her. It was inexcusable that Kyoko didn’t force an answer out of her.

She stood in front of Homura’s apartment door now, too long after their last fight. She lost track of how long it had been since they last saw each other; Sayaka said it had been about two weeks.

Kyoko was still in front of the door, paralyzed by her thoughts. She wanted to trust that she and Homura could have a calm talk about this, but here she was, already transformed, with the tip of her spear pointed at the ground displaying the most trust that she possibly could. After what she heard, she lost all faith in her ability to predict Homura’s actions. Madoka and Sayaka couldn’t have been making any of that up.

Still frozen. She touched the bracelet on her wrist like it could give her some sort of magical courage, as if she wasn’t already aware of what magic was and wasn’t capable of. It was meant for a child’s wrist, and the elastic pressing into her skin was going to leave impressions in the shape of the plastic crosses and beads.

The old memories of her family were a happy place for Kyoko, like Momo was holding onto her hand to face a monster in the closet. “Lord, lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” With a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

As tense as she was, she expected some grand dramatic entrance, or to immediately fight her way to safety. But it was just an ordinary door opening to reveal someone standing in the doorway, still in her school uniform like a nerd who was too lazy to change after school. Homura looked as tired as ever, maybe even more so now, knowing what was wrong.

“That was probably the quietest I’ve ever heard you knock,” Homura said flatly.

Kyoko acted like nothing was wrong, or like they’d just seen each other a day earlier. “You, uh…” Kyoko wanted to break the ice, but anything light she could say wouldn’t come out of her mouth as such. “You look like shit.”

“I appreciate the input.” Any sarcasm that would have been in Homura’s voice was gone, replaced by a terrible bitterness. “Were you planning on putting that away?”

“Not really.” Kyoko only tightened her grip on her spear. If Homura was going to be on the offensive, then so was she. “We need to talk.”

“I agree. I was about to come looking for you.” Homura opened the door wider and beckoned Kyoko inside. The inside of Homura’s apartment didn’t look any different, as bare and tidy as ever.

“Really?” Kyoko hoped Homura didn’t notice how sweaty her hands were, making it hard to hold her spear properly. It was risky, but even if it was a trap, she trusted that she could escape. She trusted her ability to fight past Homura more than she trusted Homura herself.

“Would I lie?” Homura picked up the intention in her glare. “Alright, I know. But I have no intention of fighting right now.”

“Yeah, I’m more comfortable like this.” Kyoko didn’t take a seat; this was going to be a short trip. Knock some sense into her and get out.

“You are aware that a quicker access to magic won’t help you defend yourself anymore, aren’t you?”

“Tch. Cocky bitch.” That wasn’t out of the ordinary for a conversation, but normally Kyoko would challenge Homura right then. Now she was afraid that calling the wrong bluffs would put her in real danger for the first time. “What’d ya want?”

Homura crossed her arms over her chest with a distasteful stare. “You showed up at my door. You explain first.”

Kyoko grumbled again, but that was fair. It didn’t change her plan any, at least. “I wanted to talk. Make ya come back.”

“Hmm?” Homura’s face was unreadable.

“You did some dumb things, but…you can be forgiven.” The tip of Kyoko’s spear rested against the carpet so it wouldn’t shake. “If you wanna talk yer problems out or somethin’.”

Kyoko didn’t think that would work, but she definitely didn’t think Homura would start giggling. “Oi, what’s so funny?!”

“I was going to make the same offer, actually.”

“You…wanna come back?” If she wanted that, she didn’t need Kyoko to do it.

“No, of course not.” Something about Homura’s dead-eyed, unsatisfied smile gave Kyoko chills throughout her entire body. “I wanted you to help me.”

“Oh hell no.” Kyoko instinctively held the pole with both hands, raising her spear just off the ground.

Homura didn’t seem phased. “Funny you should bring that up.”

“What’s that?”

“Hell.”

“It’s where yer goin’ if you don’t cut the crap!” Kyoko wasn’t even referring to Homura’s declaration of being a devil now. Even without that, she had done some terrible things.

“Kyoko…Sakura.” Homura’s face still held that unnerving expression. “Do you honestly believe all people who acted wrongly go to Hell?”

“That ain’t on me to decide. But… come on, this is wrong.” Kyoko grit her teeth. “Ya get that, right?”

“Do you think your father was allowed into Heaven for what he did?”

“This ain’t about that!” Kyoko impulsively widened her stance to stabilize herself and pointed the sharpened end of her spear directly at Homura. “You gonna get some sense in that head or no?”

Homura, unfazed, pushed her spear to the side and walked closer. Kyoko only glared harder the closer she came, but if Homura wasn’t on the offensive, Kyoko wasn’t going to provoke her. Silent and ignoring her aggressive stare, she took Kyoko’s wrist and held firmly enough that she wouldn’t be able to pull away easily.

Homura looked at the bracelet, face again expressionless. “Isn’t this a little small for you?”

“S’not mine.” Homura reached up to touch it with her other hand, but Kyoko yanked backwards, still not broken free. “Don’t!”

After a tense few seconds, Homura let her go. “Was it Momo’s?”

“I’m here to talk about you and me, nothin’ like that.” Kyoko held her hand close to her chest and out of Homura’s reach, weapon still out in case she needed to collapse it into a chain and buy a few seconds.

Homura’s smile came back; Kyoko couldn’t remember a time when Homura smiling wasn’t something to be happy about or laugh at. “No, it is related.” Homura then explained herself unprompted while Kyoko was still collecting herself. “Were you happy?”

“Whaddya mean?” Of course Kyoko wasn’t happy; right now, at least, on the verge of a fight.

“In your past. At any point in history, actually. Tell me about how you felt.”

“We already talked about that.” Kyoko frowned, assuming there was a point to all this. “Guess I was pretty happy as a kid. Then uh… not, later. And I was doin’ pretty well now until ya pulled this!”

It was absolutely infuriating how Homura’s face never changed. She was never an expressive person, but right now, being watched with an unchanging, almost-accusatory stare was only stressing Kyoko out and making it harder to answer. “And the memories you retrieved?”

“What about ’em?” The fact that Kyoko didn’t want to linger on them should have been enough of a sign that they weren’t great. It wasn’t normal to remember your own multiple deaths.

“Were they happy memories, under a god you were defending?”

“It’s just the past, that don’t matter.” Kyoko was angry right now, and Homura was trying to divert her rage anywhere but at herself.

“That’s all that matters right now. Sayaka Miki is alive now, isn’t she? Don’t you remember what happened to her under Madoka’s laws?”

Kyoko grit her teeth. “She just used up her magic or somethin’, that Law of Circles thing.” Sayaka had died before they had the chance to talk very much. “That could happen at any time.” If the world never changed, Kyoko would never have been as close to Sayaka as she was now.

“But it hasn’t. I was able to bring her back, unlike Madoka.” Homura hadn’t changed expressions, Kyoko was sure. But she looked different now, like she was more empathetic. “So what’s wrong with this arrangement?”

“Because Madoka wasn’t a damn nutcase.” It was wrong accepting a divine gift like that from someone so twisted.

“I think we’re long past the point of morality by now.” Homura smiled, more intimidating than warm. “It made you happy, didn’t it? I’m your friend; you can trust me.”

“Friends don’t do…anythin’ you did.” In truth, for the very first time it was hard for Kyoko to refer to Homura as a friend. Her arm twinged with the light ache of holding a weapon outwards for too long, but she didn’t dare put it away.

“Then what about God? Would you say He is fair?”

Kyoko wanted to hit her to see if that would put a more tolerable expression on her face. “Of course.” She didn’t even bother asking what the point of the question was. This entire conversation was Homura spouting senseless crap and turning it to her favor.

“Including your family?”

“No, I already said this, we ain’t talking about that.” If Kyoko could glare any harder, she would have. Her hand was around the pole of her spear and tightly as she could grip. Her jaw was clenched, knees locked, every muscle flexed and stiff. She couldn’t possibly express any more anger even though rage was building further.

The corners of Homura’s mouth tugged into a tighter smile. “You always sounded confident in your family’s devotion. And can you remind me how they were repaid?”

“That wasn’t Dad’s fault or God’s.” Kyoko couldn’t say whose fault it was, but it wasn’t either of theirs.

“Nothing happens without reason. What would you say caused it?”

“It… it was his followers, they didn’t understand.” There was no excuse to not listen to Kyoko’s father. “They drove him to…” It wasn’t fair.

Homura moved in the tiniest bit closer, and Kyoko found herself fighting intimidation from someone smaller than her, in every sense but her overwhelming presence. “Drove him to what, exactly?”

“Already told ya.” Kyoko tried to sound bitter, but only came across as reluctant to her own ears.

“Then I’ll remind you. Your father was hanging from the chandelier, correct?”

His body was still limp when she walked through the doors. It wasn’t moving at all, he was dead long enough that the chandelier wasn’t swinging.

Kyoko took a step back, succumbing to whatever fear Homura was putting out. “Stop it.”

For every step she took back, Homura closed in equally. “And your mother and sister, burned to death.”

They had only recently been bringing in money again. She wasn’t used to smelling meat cooking when she walked up. It was darkly amusing to think that her mother was so out of practice with cooking that she burned it. Never could she imagine humans could smell like that.

Kyoko couldn’t even look at Homura. “Stop it…”

“Could you see their faces? Did they look peaceful like everyone says? Or were they scared?”

Her father looked surprised, drooling, eyes nearly bulging out of his head. She didn’t look at him for long, but her gaze found her mother and Momo next, charred beyond recognition and only differentiated by size. Even if she could look at them long enough, she was sure she wouldn’t be able to identify an expression.

“Stop!”

“Was anything I’ve done any worse than those memories?”

Kyoko didn’t answer; she only yelled. She dropped her spear to the ground, took a step back, and swung her fist as hard as she possibly could towards the center of Homura’s face. It hurt her hand, but she looked back to see that Homura never even moved. Her fist deflected off something unseen between them.

Surprisingly, Homura didn’t return the attack. Kyoko would have been able to handle a fight better than facing such restraint. “I don’t know why I expected you to think about this logically or quietly.”

“Damn you!” Kyoko’s eyes stung, a culmination of the frustration and fear that had no other outlet.

“Curse me all you like, I’m only explaining that I’m correct.” Homura knelt down to pick up the fallen spear, passing it back to Kyoko shaft first. “And I have an offer.” Kyoko answered by taking the weapon and not attacking her again. “I want you to join me.”

“Like hell!” Kyoko could barely stand being in the same room as her; she couldn’t help someone who had done so much wrong. “Why would you think I’d do that?!”

“You’re strong, intuitive, and you’re loyal.” Homura smiled wider this time, more natural and familiar. “And you’re my friend. I trust you. I’d enjoy working together with you again.”

“Then get your ass back from whatever fantasy you’ve been living and come back with me. We’ll work together on something right.” Kyoko was just sick now. Tired. Wanted nothing more than to go home and bring Homura with her, and maybe take a nap.

If Homura noticed how close her voice was to cracking, she didn’t mention it. “Promise me you’ll think about it.”

“Whatever.” Kyoko transformed back into her shorts and jacket, not looking to draw any more attention than she already might have.

“I mean it. I’ll be waiting for an answer.”

Kyoko slammed the door before Homura could hear the strangled crying fighting its way out of her throat.

--

Kyoko didn’t plan on thinking about it. She left Homura’s apartment angry and vowing to never talk to her about it again. But every time she spoke to Sayaka, she couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like without her. When she was bored with nothing to do, she remembered having little free time because she had to fight so often.

It wasn’t wrong to passively enjoy this kind of gift, was it? She wasn’t thanking Homura for it, or doing anything to further whatever heretical plans she had in mind. Her only sin was selfishness, by not changing her lifestyle knowing that things were different. Kyoko could handle being selfish.

Another day passed, and another. And with each one, she thought more and more about it. It was impossible to not change her life knowing that she could have lost even more than she already had. Sayaka complained that she was too clingy, but she didn’t understand.

She couldn’t talk to Sayaka about her internal conflict either. The only answer she would get was that of course Homura was wrong, everything she did was wrong. But Sayaka didn’t understand. The only thing she lost in the gap between their memories was that musical block of wood, and Sayaka was long over that guy now that she had Kyoko.

That’s how Kyoko ended up standing up in front of Homura’s door only three days later. She knocked on the door as politely as she was able, dressed casually. Her soul gem was held firm in her fist; she was willing to risk the seconds it would take to transform this time.

Homura didn’t look any different from the last time she was there, and unfortunately just as intimidating for someone who was previously a quiet loser. “Have you made a decision?”

Kyoko didn’t waste any time saying it as soon as the door was closed behind her. “You were right.”

“Hmm? What about?”

Kyoko was too tired to argue over Homura’s feigned naivety. “Everything. We’re all happier now.” It was hard to admit it, but she was so wrong before. The instant she thought about the proof Homura showed her, everything made sense. “Even Sayaka. She won’t admit it, but we’re all happier.”

“I’m glad you were able to see reason.”

“Yeah…” The back of Kyoko’s mind still yelled at her that it was wrong. But the only thing wrong about it was that it was new. The whole world was different, so she needed to adopt a new philosophy to match it.

Still lost in thought, Homura came up to her for a strong hug, stopping her mental processes short. “You’re a good friend,” Homura reassured her.

“You are too.” Kyoko hugged her back, maybe a little too tightly due to her shaking. But she was going to help make the world better, like she always wanted to.