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Chapter Text

Madoka Kaname walked to school with a spring in her step and a smile on her face. She always tried to appear cheerful, as she didn’t want anyone to worry about her, or be brought down if she was in a miserable mood.

As it so happened, she was feeling genuinely cheerful on this particular morning. Her mother had woken up in time to chat with her daughter, and had lovingly tied ribbons into her hair. Madoka tossed her head slightly, to see the flash of red, and smiled. Her friends had even complimented her on the new hairstyle.

Now Sayaka and Hitomi were chatting about boys, Madoka didn’t listen too closely, until her name was mentioned.

“That’s why you started wearing those ribbons isn’t it Madoka?” Sayaka declared. “You want to be popular with all the boys don’t you? Well I won’t let you.” She laughed and chased her friend around. Madoka laughed along, but felt pained inside.

They don’t actually think the ribbons look nice do they? Even my friends think I look a fool. I could never be popular, the very idea is laughable to them. Why did I even think I looked good?

Any good feeling she had had about the morning had vanished to nothing. Madoka knew her friends weren’t being unkind at all, in fact they spared her feelings by not saying what they really thought of her; but Madoka knew. She didn’t deserve such good friends.

She quickened her pace, getting inside the school and into class as soon as possible.

Their teacher droned on about her personal life. Sometimes Madoka would giggle with Sayaka about their teachers bizarre tangents, but today she could barely hear the words.

Madoka’s head was buzzing, she get like everyone was staring at her, laughing at her. She picked at the skin around her nails, trying to focus on that rather than her frantic thoughts.

I need to pay more attention. I’m already stupid enough without zoning out in class.

With immense effort, she dragged her brain back to the present, just in time to hear the words: “…a transfer student who will be joining us.”

Homura Akemi hovered nervously, outside the classroom door. Going back to school was a daunting task, she had been convincing her parents to put it off for weeks, but now there was no escape. 

She heard the teacher announcing her entrance, and quickly shoved the door open, stumbling inside.

There were whispers as she crossed the classroom, she ducked her head, not wanting to hear what awful things her new classmates might be saying about her. 

The teacher continued talking 

“Miss Akemi  was in the hospital for a while, due to a heart condition. She hasn’t been in school for some time, so it may be difficult for her to adjust. Make sure to help her out.”

Homura sighed in silent relief. She had begged her parents to give a fake reason for her being in the hospital, she wasn’t completely sure if her teacher knew the truth and was simply covering her for the other students, but she was grateful either way. 

Going back to school was bad enough, there was no way she could let anyone know she had been on a psychiatric ward before.

She winced at the thought of her classmates “helping out”, she wanted as little attention on her as possible.

Homura awkwardly shuffled to the empty desk indicated for her. Trying to ignore the burning of eyes from all of the students, she sat down, wanting to disappear.

At break time, several girls got up, and quickly surrounded Homura’s desk. They began to ask question after question.

“Where were you at school before?”

“Were you in any clubs?”

“Do you like sports, or art?”

“Your hair is really long.” One of the girls reached out as if she was going to stoke Homura’s plait. Homura grabbed her own hair defensively, giving it a small, nervous tug. She opened her mouth, wanting to answer at least one question, so they’d leave her alone. But she couldn’t make any words come out.

“Excuse me.” A bright voice rang above the others. People parted slightly, revealing a small girl with pink hair. “Sorry girls, I promised the teacher I’d give Miss Akemi a little tour.” She gave a friendly beckoning gesture. 

Homura stood up automatically, her legs wobbling slightly. A few of the kids sighed a little, but they let her pass. Homura felt unsure, but the girl in front of her just smiled brightly, and led her out of the busy classroom, into the hallway.

Chapter Text

Madoka was intrigued by the new transfer student. So, it seemed, was the whole class. Whether by her good looks, withdrawn demeanor, or the simple novelty of a new student; everyone was fascinated by Homura Akemi. 

The surprise of the new student’s sudden appearance had temporarily distracted Madoka from her dark thoughts, but now they returned with avengeance. She ducked her gaze to avoid catching Akemi’s eyes.

I bet she’ll think I’m shy, and stupid too. Madoka thought gloomily. She quite forgot to pay attention for the rest of the class. Pulling anxiously at her hair and ribbons, and glancing furtively at Akemi.

The ring of the bell startled Madoka badly. She looked at the clock, and felt a great weight come down on her. The school day had barely begun, how was she going to make it through the whole day?

She looked back to Akemi’s desk without even thinking about it, and saw the girl surrounded by chattering students.

She’s only been here an hour, and already everyone likes her better than me. Of course they do. Anyone’s better than I am.

Still looking at Akemi, she noticed when the girl pulled back from the crowd. Her hands pulling at her braids. Curiously, Madoka stood, seeing at once that Akemi was properly surrounded. She wasn’t responding to anyone, and seemed to be shaking. No one else appeared to have noticed. 

She’s fine. I’m just projecting because I would hate to be crowded like that. Anyone else would appreciate the attention. 

Despite her thoughts, Madoka couldn’t bear to just stand there. She pushed forward impulsively, and automatically plastered a smile on her face.

“Excuse me.” She blurted out, taking care not to flinch when everyone stared at her. “Sorry girls, I promised the teacher I’d give Miss Akemi a little tour.” She lied fluently, and beckoned at Akemi to follow her. 

Surely there’s no harm. Maybe she’ll even like me, and want to be my friend.

Madoka shook her head to get rid of such an idea; but quickly made it appear as part of her “carefree, bouncy walk”. I already have two wonderful friends, that’s more than I deserve and I’m lucky they put up with me.

Swallowing to push down the fear of her friends leaving. Madoka turned to face Akemi in the hallway.

“So would you like a tour? We don’t have to, I was just offering.” She laughs, hoping it doesn’t sound nervous. She feels stupid for even saying anything.

“Oh-um-I, uh, that would be great, thank you.” Akemi bowed hurriedly in gratitude. 

Madoka was slightly taken aback by the stammered response. She quickly returned the smile to her face, and walked on.

Madoka took Akemi around the school, pointing out different classrooms, the gym, and the cafeteria. The lack of response was slightly disconcerting, but Madoka was used to putting on an act, she kept her voice bright and light. 

Eventually, Akemi spoke up. “Sorry, but I-um, didn’t catch your name…” 

Madoka winced, how could she have been so stupid as to forget to introduce herself. “I’m Madoka Kaname.” She tried to smile even wider, to gloss over the mistake. “But you can call me Madoka.” She continued automatically, she wanted to appear friendly, and not stuck-up, so she always let people call her by her first name.

“Oh, isn’t that a bit…informal.” Madoka winced, of course this new girl wouldn’t want to address her in such a friendly manner. Her smile dropped ever so slightly.

“Sorry, you don’t-”

“You can call me Homura!” Akemi blurted out. 

Madoka smiled again, she wasn’t sure if this was an acceptance of her offer, but she decided to take it. 

“Of course! You have such an interesting name, Homura.” For once she spoke without thinking. Homura gave a tiny, but noticeable smile.

Homura was initially terrified when she had been brought out of the classroom. Although she was glad to escape the gaggle of girls. 

She was intimidated by the pink-haired girl. She seemed so bright and cheerful, Homura was sure she was the most popular girl in class, and who knew how she would treat someone as stupidly shy as Homura.

To her surprise, Miss Kaname had been nothing but friendly, and hadn’t forced her to be chatty. Homura wasn’t sure if she was bold enough to call the girl Madoka, but was happy to offer her own first name.

“So, are you the class rep?” Homura asked.

Madoka laughed her bright laugh. “Oh, no. No one would want me for the class rep, I’m not really popular.” Homura was startled by the way she spoke about herself. “I’m just the health officer. Not a very important job, to tell the truth…” She looked a little embarrassed, “I wasn’t actually told to take you on a tour. I just thought that…” She paused again. “I thought you might want a break from everyone asking you so many questions.” 

Homura didn’t know what to say. Thank you? That’s just what I needed? How did you know? She didn’t manage to get any of these words out before Madoka started up again.

“That was probably silly of me.” Her laugh was even higher pitched than before. “I’ll leave you alone now, to make friends with the rest of the class.” At that moment the bell rang, and Madoka turned abruptly, hurrying them both back to class.

Chapter Text

Madoka was exhausted. In mind if not in body. Her brain was whirring so much, any sort of conversation seemed impossible. Hitomi and Sayaka asked her to hang out after school, but Madoka couldn’t face it. She knew that being with her friends could make her feel better, but the weight of fear that they might realise she wasn’t happy enough kept Madoka away.

She smiled and laughed, saying she had plans with her family. Hoping desperately that they wouldn’t hate her for refusing, that they wouldn’t realise she was a terrible friend.

“Your mum is so cool Madoka.” Sayaka grinned. 

“She’s so fashionable, and hard working. I wish my family was as nice as yours.” Sighed Hitomi.

Madoka nodded modestly. Her mum wouldn’t even be home yet, not for hours. 

It’s for the best. So she doesn’t realise what a disappointment her daughter is.

When Madoka got home, she managed to shoot a smile at her dad, busy in the garden. Making the excuse of homework allowed her to escape to her bedroom. 

Madoka laid on her bed, unmoving. She didn’t sleep though. The voices in her head got louder, and louder. But she couldn’t heed them, she didn’t have the strength.

Get up! You’re so lazy. Everyone else is having a great time, why can’t you? Your mum and dad are both working hard, and you're just lying here getting fat. You’re so stupid, you should be ashamed.

She lost track of time, and didn’t hear the door or footsteps until a little body landed on top of her.

“Madoka! Madoka!” Her little brother cried cheerily, shaking her to get up. 

Madoka lay still as a corpse, she didn’t even have the energy to cry. I’m a terrible sister.

What finally roused her was her father’s voice, he came round the door. “Madoka, is everything alright?” 

I can’t let him see me like this . She jumped up and clutched her brother. “We were just playing.” 

Her dad smiled. “Well it’s dinner time now. Don’t bother your sister, Tatsuya, she’s working hard.” 

I never work hard. I’m stupid and lazy. You’d hate me if you knew.

Madoka’s mother was home for dinner, a rarity, but Madoka couldn’t muster up true excitement over it. Sometimes it felt like she had lost the ability to feel anything. Maybe I’m a psychopath, not caring about anyone.

Her mum drank wine with her food. Madoka eyed it enviously. She had had a few late night chats with her mum after she’d been drinking. She always seemed happier then, and had praised the numbing effects of alcohol. Madoka had once dared to ask her for a glass, but her mum only laughed. ‘When you’re older’ she said.

Madoka wanted to feel numb. Not in the drained, empty way she did now. But in the light, carefree way. She wanted to forget all her fears and laugh in earnest.

When Madoka excused herself, she changed into her pajamas quickly, not looking at herself. But when she lay on her bed in the dark, she slipped her hand under the collar of her shirt, feeling her upper arm. 

There were lines there, she could feel them, raised slightly, and rough. She was always grateful for her long-sleeved uniform.

It was about a week ago now, when the voices in her head wouldn’t shut up, even for a moment. She felt horrible, evil, like she deserved to be punished. In the past, she had slid her hands up her sleeves, and scratched at her forearms. It focused her mind away. But soon it wasn’t enough, she was scared people might see the red marks if she rolled up her sleeves, and she needed more. She had snuck a boxcutter out of the toolbox, and gently pushed it into her skin. It hurt, but it was a relief, everything was quiet, just for a little while.

She made a few more cuts, but after a while, she felt worse. She felt lighter for a few days, but now everything was terrible again. Her moods had always come and gone ebbs and waves, but now it felt like the ocean was crashing down on her, and there was hardly any time to come up for air.

Madoka thought about searching in the back of her draws for the boxcutter, she had washed it, secretly and ashamed. Her head was a mess, she didn’t know what to do. Madoka scratched with the hand still on her scabs, picking away at them. She focused completely on her task, able to block out the rest of her thoughts for a few moments. She clawed at it, until the skin was ripped off. She felt a great sense of relief, but when she saw the blood on her hands, it was overwritten with shame.

Chapter Text

Homura felt rather in shock after her first day back. Her mum had texted almost the second she left the building.

How was it? X

Homura sighed deeply, clutching her phone to her chest, and avoiding the eyes of people around her. Her parents had been particularly interested in her, since the hospitalisation. They came to visit every time they could, and were constantly asking doctors about her progress and other possible therapies or medications. 

Homura was grateful, some people on the ward never had family visit. But she also felt smothered, even now. 

Homura remembered the weeks before her hospitalisation. Her parents had been so worried about her, and relieved when she had finally got her antidepressants. Homura had been relieved too, but a few weeks after she started her medicine, she attempted suicide.

That part is a bit of a blur, but it’s how she ended up on the ward. It was soon decided that the medicines weren’t working for her, so there was a pivot to new strategies. 

Homura wished that antidepressants could have been the miracle pill her parents had expected, or at least worked for her like they did for others; but things were better now, and she liked her new therapist.

She responded to her mother with more cheer than she felt.

New school’s great :)

She put the phone back in her pocket and began to walk. There was still something weighing heavily on her mind. 

None of the people at her old school had visited her while she was in hospital. Nobody even messaged. It confirmed in her head that nobody would care if she was gone.

These thoughts swirled round as she thought about her new school. Nobody there would like her either, they only talked to her because she was the new kid, nobody cared.

Homura slumped as she walked, watching her feet step one in front of the other. She stopped suddenly, looking up to realise she was on a bridge that she had seen before.

Mechanically, she walked up to the railing, and looked down. The world seemed to tilt, Homura was gasping for breath. She spun around and sat down on the ground, trembling.

She fished her phone out with shaking hands. She didn’t want to talk to her parents, or worry them, but there was someone she always felt she could talk to.

Mami Tomoe. She was a bit older than Homura, but they’d been on the ward together. Mami had apparently been suffering from depression for years, and had been in and out of the ward a few times. Despite this, she always seemed to put on a brave face.

H: I feel awful

Homura cut straight to the point with her message. Soon Mami responded.

M: first day back at school right?

H: yea

H: everyone hates me

M: do you know that or just think it

M: you can’t trust your brain remember

Homura sighed, Mami was always right about these things, but pointing it out didn’t make it go away.

H: just because they dont say ‘i hate you’ to my face doesn’t mean they like me

M: wasn’t there anything good that happened today?

M: not one person was nice? Try to think of something good that happened

Homura thought. She sieved through her spiralling, anxiety ridden memories, searching for the positive. 

The lessons weren’t too hard. People did act like they were interested in me.

But one thought stood out. The memory of Madoka Kaname’s smile. Not the strained, omnipresent one; but the one she gave when she admitted to helping Homura escape the classroom.

H: there was this girl, she seemed nice I guess

M: well there you have friend already

H: she’s not my friend 

M: why don’t you talk to her tomorrow? think about that while you’re walking home

M: and remember what your therapist taught you

M: stay safe Homura

H: you too

Homura closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She stood, shakily, but she was standing. She worked on her breathing exercise as she walked home, careful not to look back over the bridge.

But she also thought of Madoka, the name forming in her mouth, unspoken.

Chapter Text

When Madoka awoke, she didn’t open her eyes at first. She had been roused by the sound of her brother’s voice. Not in her room, but one over, attempting to wake her mother. Madoka would usually partake in this endeavour; she tried to get up, but it felt like a huge weight was crushing her. Pinning her on her back. With a great effort, she managed to push off her covers, get one leg on the floor, then the other; at last she sat up.

Moving any further was a daunting task, but she couldn’t stay in bed, she had school. Her brain had already started up. You don’t deserve to go to a nice school, you're too stupid for it anyway. Your parents would be ashamed if they knew how lazy their daughter is.

Getting up and dressed became a blur. She found herself in the kitchen, slowly spooning food into her mouth. 

“Somebody’s sleepy.” Her mum chirped cheerily. “I’d better be off now.” Madoka blinked sluggishly as her mum kissed them all goodbye. She realised now, she had gotten up too late for them to brush teeth and comb hair together. Spending time with her mum was the only way she’d been managing to keep on with these tasks lately. Madoka looked at the clock, she would be late soon anyway, so she just left.

Madoka wasn’t present for the walk to school, she was hardly aware of time passing, she only realised she was almost there when Sayaka dropped in, slinging an arm over her shoulder.

“Hey Madoka. You didn’t hear me calling, got your head in the clouds?” Madoka forced out a laugh. “What? Were you thinking about a boy?” Sayaka teased, drawing out her words.

“No.” Madoka unstuck her throat at last. “What boy would be interested in me?” She joked.

Sayaka’s face dropped ever so slightly, Madoka winced. “Aw, don’t be silly Madoka. You could have all the boys fawning over you if you wanted.”

Madoka laughed along. Sayaka is right, I am silly. Of course she’s laughing. Any boy liking me is a laughable idea.

When they got into class, time started slipping away again. Madoka tried staring at the words on the board, but they seemed to be gibberish. Sayaka tapped her shoulder, and Madoka jumped, realising that it was lunch time already. 

“Y’know that new transfer student?” Actually, Madoka had totally forgotten Homura until this moment. She felt dreadful. Why did I even act like I was going to be her friend? I’m a terrible friend.

“She keeps staring at you.” Madoka tuned back in, she looked around. Homura wasn’t looking at them, but her shoulders were hunched, perhaps in awareness that she was being watched. “She’s kinda weird, I hope she’s not a creep.” Continued Sayaka.

“She’s not.” Madoka’s voice came out forcefully. “She’s just new. I told her yesterday that we could be friends.” Without waiting for a response, Madoka stood and walked over to Homura, tapping her shoulder. Homura jerked to look at her.

“Will you join me and my friends for lunch, Homura?” 

Homura looked so shocked, Madoka almost regretted her impulsive action, but then she gave a shaky nod, and stood up with a tiny smile.

Sayaka stared open-mouthed at the pair, as they walked off together.

It was slightly awkward when the four of them; Madoka, Homura, Sayak Miki, and Hitomi Shizuki, all sat together in the lunch hall. Shizuki attempted to make lighthearted conversation, but it was hard for Homura to chat naturally. Miki enthusiastically spoke to Madoka, essentially ignoring Homura’s presence. 

“So, Miss Akemi, what school did you go to before you came here?” Shizuki seemed nice enough, but Homura dithered; fearful that any mention of her past would somehow reveal the whole truth to everyone.

“I was living in Tokyo before.” This wasn’t really an answer, but Homura avoided eye contact, looking around the room, hoping she wouldn’t be called out for her vagueness.

As her eyes scanned over the room, she suddenly latched onto an all too familiar face. Mami Tomoe.

Homura stared at Mami in a daze, she knew the older girl had left the psychiatric ward just before her, but they had never discussed where either of them went to school. School felt like a whole different world to the hospital, it felt wrong to bring it up, but now here was Mami, in the flesh.

“Uh, Homura.” Madoka’s voice cut through Homura’s thoughts at last. She turned to see the whole table staring at her. 

“You space cadet! You're just like our Madoka.” Miki exclaimed.

Homura laughed along, timidly. She glanced at Madoka, her smile seemed strained.

Seizing the opportunity, now that the table had come together, she turned to Madoka.

“What is your favourite subject, Miss Kaname.” Perhaps that was a boring question, but Homura just wanted to know more about her.

Madoka laughed her shrill laugh.  “Well I’m not very good at school.”

Homura frowned. “Really?” 

Madoka smiled wanly. “I’m not very smart, I don’t have any special talents. There’s nothing really special about me.”

There was silence. Briefly, Madoka stayed with her placid smile, seemingly unaware as to the affect of her words. But the air grew tense.

“Uh, Madoka.” Miki gave a slightly nervous laugh. “Don’t be daft, you're good at loads of things.” She seemed rather taken aback by the sudden proclamation.

Madoka looked blankly between their faces, then she stood. “Sorry, I have to go now.” She was walking away before they could say anything more.

Homura stared desperately at the retreating Madoka, when she looked back at Miki, she was met with a glare.

Chapter Text

Madoka stumbled home from school, her ears ringing. 

How could I be so stupid!

I never should have invited Homura!

I should have kept my mouth shut!

They all hate me!

When she reached home, she walked straight to her room without saying a word, and collapsed on her bed. A concerned voice buzzed around her, but she didn’t heed it. She could not see nor hear clearly anymore.

It was a long time before something cut through the haze, her mother’s face.

“Oh dear, Madoka.” Her features were twisted in concern. “Do you feel ill?” 

It was difficult to decide which would require more effort, a word or a nod. Eventually a quiet “yeah” slipped out of her lips. 

Madoka’s parents fussed around her, but she didn’t stir, steeped in self-loathing. You’re worrying your parents over nothing. They don’t deserve such a rubbish daughter.

Madoka didn’t get up the next day either. Her parents called the school to tell them she was sick. Madoka felt like crying, but she didn’t have the energy. 

Soon her mother left for work, and her father took Tatsuya out. Madoka was left alone. She made no movement, or sound, she looked like a corpse.

When her parents returned late, she managed to rouse herself enough to speak. They asked if she had eaten, she said yes. They asked if she felt better, she said yes.

She stayed in bed until late at night. Undercover of darkness, she could not sleep, but the voices in her head grew ever louder. 

- - - - -

Madoka staggered to her feet and searched in one of her draws. She didn’t care anymore if it would make her feel better or worse, she deserved to feel awful, she deserved to be in pain. She pulled out the box-cutter, going for her right arm, that hadn’t yet been touched. She made a cut on her shoulder, then another, she slashed again and again, until she almost reached her elbow, then stopped.

Madoka felt hollow, she stared at what she’d done. Blood was oozing out of the cuts, down her arm. She felt a sudden panic. Rushing, she grabbed some tissues and pressed on the stinging wounds. She sat for a long time, maybe hours. She kept checking her arm and replacing soiled tissues. The cuts weren’t gushing, but the blood just didn’t seem to stop. Her breath came fast and frightened. 

When Madoka at last felt that the bleeding had slowed, she got some gauze, and tightly bandaged up her arm.

- - - - -

Chapter Text

Homura was devastated. Everything seemed to be going so well, but then Madoka had left in distress, and now she wasn’t in school.

Homura had been glancing anxiously at her empty chair all morning, but by break time it was pretty obvious that she wouldn’t be showing up. She desperately wanted to go ask Madoka’s friends if they knew whether she was alright, but stopped herself, remembering Sayaka Miki’s glaring.

As it turned out, asking wouldn’t’ve done any good. Homura watched Miki, and Shizuki talking quietly and urgently with each other. After a few moments they walked to the front of class. Homura stood and sidled forward, trying to listen.

“...wondering where Madoka is, Miss.” The teacher frowned a little at the pair, then looked at her computer.

“Madoka Kaname is off sick today, ladies.” Miki and Shizuki mumbled a word of thanks, then walked back, looking woebegone. Homura bit her lip, anxiously. At least she knew now, but it didn’t assuage the worry. 

The next morning, Madoka was back in class. She appeared as smiley and bouncy as ever, chattering with her friends. Homura tried to listen, but was too reluctant to get too close. Madoka never glanced her way.

During class, Homura resisted the urge to turn around to look at Madoka. Will she still be my friend? Does she hate me now? Homura was worried about Madoka.

There was no invitation to lunch that day, not that Homura was surprised. For once, she allowed her other classmates to crowd her into a group, sitting on a busy table with lots of people talking. This allowed her to stare at Madoka and her friends’ table, without being too conspicuous. 

Madoka had stopped her lively talking, and was sitting listening to her friends, slightly hunched over. As Homura watched, Madoka stood. She braced her hand on the table, and stumbled slightly. Her friends looked, and she waved it off with a laugh. Then she started walking in Homura’s direction.

Homura ducked her head, looking only out of the corner of her eye. She’s not coming to talk to me. It’s just a coincidence. It was; Madoka turned and headed out of the lunch hall. 

Homura looked around. Madoka’s friends weren’t looking her way now. The people on her table had lost interest in her after attempting conversation for a while. Homura wasn’t sure why she made the decision, or what she planned to do, but she stood and followed Madoka.

When Homura exited the hall, she looked around. The corridors were long and spacious, she couldn’t see Madoka anywhere. There weren’t many places she could be going at the time anyway. Homura took a few steps forward, then pushed open the door to the bathroom. 

It was quiet, Homura looked around, the room seemed empty. She walked forward until she came to the one closed cubicle. She bunched her hands into fists, hesitating, then knocked. 

There was a small noise, a scuffling, a rustle, then the lock clicked. Madoka pushed the door open, her face was drawn. When she saw who it was, she seemed to try for a smile, but it fell before she spoke. 

“Homura. I’m sorry.” Homura was startled. By the statement, but also the situation. “I’m sorry, I said we would be friends but… I haven’t been a very good friend.” Homura had no idea how to respond, she felt very concerned. 

Madoka seemed like she was going to say something else, but then her face went eerily blank. She stumbled forward, then collapsed against Homura. 

She gasped “Miss Kaname?” She gently dropped to the floor, Madoka’s head in her lap. She stared, looking for a sign of what had happened. Then she noticed the growing patch of blood on Madoka’s sleeve. 

Homura began to shake, she began to unbutton and roll up Madoka’s sleeve. Madoka was conscious now, and tried to weakly protest. Homura just held her other hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” She tried to soothe. 

Soon Homura found what she had feared, a bandage was around Madoka’s upper arm, blood had soaked through it, and it was wet to the touch. Homura didn’t have to remove the wrapping to know what kind of injury was underneath. She had seen it before.

Madoka’s eyes were glassy. Homura took a deep breath and yelled “Help! Somebody help!” It only took a few moments. A student burst through the door, and Homura cried at them to get the school nurse. 

She lay on the floor with Madoka, putting a hand to press on the bandage, not minding how her hand was stained. Madoka’s eyes fluttered, Homura wasn’t sure if she would stay awake or not, but she wanted to help, to ease the pain, even a little.

“It will be okay.” She whispered softly. “Everything will be alright, Madoka.” To her surprise Madoka smiled.

“You called me by my first name.” Her voice was breathy, slightly dreamy. “I’m so happy.”

Homura just held her, until the ambulance came.

Chapter Text

Madoka wakes up confused. She’s in a bed, but it isn’t her bed. She tries to blink away the sleep, it takes longer than usual. She looks around, trying to make sense of the room that isn’t hers. She looks at the sheets and the bed, and realises that this is a hospital. 

Madoka pushes herself up, and strains to remember. Then she thinks of that terrible day, the cut that wouldn’t stop bleeding. She had walked around all day feeling weak, and dizzy. During lunch she had felt nauseated, she went to the bathroom, and pushed up her sleeve. Madoka feels dizzy again remembering the soaked bandage, and then, and then…

The door opens and Madoka jumps. A nurse smiles at her sweetly. 

“Don’t worry dear, it’s good you're awake.” He says, sitting beside her bed. “It wasn’t a life-threatening injury, we stitched you up, and gave you some blood, now you’re good as new. The doctor will come check you over soon, but I think you’ll be staying for a few days to monitor for infection. Then…” His smile dropped a little, but just for a moment. “I think somebody will be coming to have a little chat with you, just to make sure you’re doing alright.” 

Madoka shrinks away, she knows what that means; they all think she’s crazy, that she tried to kill herself. She doesn’t want to talk to anyone.

Homura was allowed to have a day off after the incident. Well, her parents had demanded it. They think she’d be distraught after witnessing something so horrible, and so similar to her own past. Maybe Homura should be in pieces, but she doesn’t feel it. She’s just sad.

Homura expected everyone to swarm her when she got back to class, but it seems that nobody is really aware about what has happened. As much as she was dreading it, it seems strange to her that nobody knows.

Well, almost nobody.

“What happened to Madoka?” Sayaka Miki has her pushed against the wall and is practically spitting in her face.

“She was hurt, and got taken to the hospital.” It seemed pointless to deny it, Miki clearly knew something about what had happened. She glared at Homura.

“I can’t stand the way you act, totally blasé. You don’t care at all, do you?” 

“I do care. I’m upset about what happened.”

“What did happen?” Miki emphasised every word.

“I told you.”

“No.” She practically growled. “I know she’s in hospital, her parents told me. But what happened? She was fine at lunch.”

Homura hesitated, biting her lip. She wondered whether Miki truly had no idea about her friend’s mental health, or if she was trying to be discreet for Homura’s sake; she tried not to judge. She couldn’t divulge the truth, it wasn’t a conversation that the two of them should be having. But she also couldn’t refuse to answer, Sayaka Miki was a force to be reckoned with.

“Well,” Homura started slowly, “I’m not completely sure, but Madoka had an injury on her arm, it was bleeding a lot so she passed out, that’s when I called for help.” She tried to keep the statement impersonal, but she shook slightly at the recounting. 

Miki let her go. Worry seemed to be overriding her anger. She took a few steps away, then paused. “You know more than you’re telling me. I will find out.” Then she walked away before Homura could respond.

Madoka couldn’t face her parents. Their expressions were filled with pain and fear, and she cowered away from their gentle hands. Guilt and shame crashed over her in waves, she felt sick.

“Oh my goodness darling. Are you feeling better? This is so terrible, but don’t worry we will get you the best care.” Her mother’s voice was full of emotion, but Madoka kept her head bent, avoiding her gaze. When her mother took a breath, her father came to pat her shoulder. 

“Everything will be okay in the end.” He spoke softly. “I promise.” That did make her feel a little better.

Her mother still had to go to work, but her father stayed with Madoka a lot of the time. She felt even more guilty when she finally remembered to ask about Tatsuya. 

“He’s staying with one of our friends for a few days. We didn’t want to upset him.” His voice was kind, but Madoka shrunk further. 

You upset him. You upset everyone. You’re a disgrace. You should have died.

Nurses came in often to check on Madoka, sometimes very briefly, sometimes for a more thorough exam. They would change her bandages and check her IV drip.She was often asked questions about how she was feeling; about her pain, and nausea. 

Madoka would only mumble in reply, if that. Some of the nurses seemed concerned, others were irritated by her lack of cooperation. 

A doctor had been in to discuss her treatment with Madoka and her father. Madoka couldn’t take in what she was saying, she didn’t want to hear the details of her surgery anyway. She managed to gather that she would only be staying in the hospital for a few days, to ensure there wouldn’t be any complications. 

She had also heard the doctor saying privately to her father that the hospital had an excellent youth mental health department, and that she could be admitted if necessary. 

This, at last stirred something in Madoka, fear.They all think I’m crazy. I’m going to be sent away. I’ll be locked. I’ll never see my family or friends again. 

The next time a nurse came, Madoka was alone. Her father had stepped out to take a phone call.

“Alright dear.” Her face was bright and cheery. It hurt to look at. “It’s time you got out of bed, you won’t get better if you keep lying around.” Madoka felt sluggish, getting out of bed seemed an impossible task, but it was clear that ‘no’ was not an acceptable answer. “Come on, sit up.”

Madoka got her arms underneath her, and pushed up into a sitting position. The nurse hovered around her. “Are you feeling alright? Any pain?” Madoka shook her head, she was a little shaky, but felt fine. 

The nurse pulled back the covers, Madoka manoeuvred her legs around, then stood. It was surreal at first, after lying for so long. “Are you sure you’re alright?” The nurse persisted. 

“Yes.” Madoka’s voice was rough, she felt irritated, didn’t the nurse believe her? She seemed to take Madoka’s word for it, though she glanced suspiciously back at Madoka as she went to write something in her file. 

Madoka took a few deep breaths, she thought maybe she should try to walk, but as if the mere thought of it was a strenuous action, her head began to spin. She felt her breath quicken as a dizziness came over her. I need to tell the nurse, I might faint. She thought.

The nurse had her back turned. Madoka looked around, she was light headed, she tried to call out, to the nurse, to her dad. Help me.

She thought that she’d said it, but nobody moved. Maybe they couldn’t hear her over the rushing noise that seemed to have started.

Madoka’s ears were still roaring, but she could hear voices. She blinked, and above her she saw the nurse and her dad, they were trying to speak to her. Madoka tried to make sense of it. The words floated around her, as soon as she had a thought she seemed to forget it; then all at once things solidified. I fainted.

As that thought came through, the rushing in her ears cleared just in time to hear the nurse say. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

Madoka was still confused. “Huh?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?”

I tried to. By the time I realised it was too late.

Madoka opened her mouth to say that, but instead she just burst into tears. The nurse leaned in closer. “Why are you so upset?” She seemed genuinely confused, but Madoka just sobbed. She barely noticed as her father firmly led the nurse away, speaking to her quite sharply, in a way that was unusual for him.

Soon he came back, and sat by Madoka. He didn’t say anything, just sat there as Madoka cried. 

It took a long time for her to stop, but the first thing she managed to say was “I’m sorry.”

Her father grasped her hand. 

“Oh Madoka.” He spoke so gently. She began to cry again. “Madoka you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you’re hurting. I’m sorry that we didn’t notice before. I’m sorry that it took so long for us to help you. But I promise, we will help you now, we will do everything possible to make sure that you’ll be okay.”

“But what if I’m not okay?” Madoka sobbed.

“We’ll still love you. No matter what. I promise you Madoka, you don’t have to worry about anything anymore, or be sorry about anything. I don't want you to suffer or cry anymore. All you have to do is stay alive. We’ll take care of the rest.” And they hugged each other.

For the first time in a long time, Madoka felt hope for the future.

Chapter Text

Madoka’s parents had been looking for child therapists all day. They were thoroughly vetting each option, then consulting Madoka for her opinion. 

Madoka wasn’t sure about her opinion, she didn’t want to talk about her feelings, not to anyone.

Well perhaps that’s not completely true.

Although it would take weeks before they could actually book a therapy appointment, Madoka was given an appointment with a hospital psychologist before she could be discharged. 

Madoka was nervous, would the psychologist try to act like a friend, so she’d tell all her secrets; worse, would they decide she was crazy, and needed to be institutionalised straight away.

It’s ridiculous. Thought Madoka. This appointment is supposed to make me feel better, instead I’m just more stressed out.

When the psychologist came, she asked if Madoka would like her father to leave the room. She dithered, knowing that she wouldn’t be allowed to not answer questions properly, but she couldn’t be honest in front of her father.

I don’t want to upset him.

Madoka’s father laid a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m here to support you, whatever you need. It’s okay if you want me to leave.” 

Madoka breathed deeply, then nodded. 

The psychologist smiled at her, a small smile. Madoka made herself smile back.

“So, would you prefer if I called you Miss Kaname, or Madoka? Or perhaps a nickname?” Madoka was thrown by the first question.

“Madoka.” Everyone called her Madoka.

“Well Madoka, what’s going to happen today is that I’m going to ask you a few questions, then we’ll have a short conversation. You know that tomorrow the doctors will be checking you over, to make sure you can leave the hospital safely?” Madoka nodded.

“Well I’m doing the same. They’re checking your body, and I’m checking your brain; together we’ll make sure you won’t be in any danger by leaving.” 

Madoka thought this was a rather drawn out explanation, but one question was gnawing at her mind, filling her with fear. It tumbled out. “What if you don’t think I’m safe?” She wished she hadn’t said it, worried that asking would put her at more risk. 

“Don’t worry about that right now. We want you to be able to go home, so we’ll do all we can to make that happen. Your parents are looking for a therapist for you, right?”

She nodded again. 

“Well that’s a great start, I would certainly have recommended it. Now why don’t we start the questions?” She paused for a moment, Madoka waited, tense. “I’d like you to know that you don’t have to answer any of the questions if you don’t want to. I will mark down a non-response, but I will not force you to speak.”

Madoka felt relief, even if very slightly. 

So the questions started. The psychologist asked about how often she had a now mood, or stress, anger. She asked about sleeplessness, tiredness, and lack of motivation. Madoka decided early on to be honest. She didn’t feel that she could lie convincingly anyway, she was too tired. 

Madoka bit her lip when she was asked about substance abuse, thinking of the times she had wished for her mother’s alcohol, or even something harder; just to silence her thoughts, to get some relief. But despite her urges, she never had the opportunity to follow through, so she could reply honestly that she hadn’t. 

When the questions about her self-harm came up, she felt strangely proud when she was able to say that she had only done it a few times, but winced when she had to admit how frequent the urges were. 

Then the psychologist asked what she had used to hurt herself. Madoka couldn’t answer, her mouth stayed open, silent. She couldn’t say it. I need it. I can’t tell them. They’ll take it away. What if I need to cut again? 

She bowed her head in shame, when she looked back to the psychologist she expected a look of anger, or disgust. Perhaps even pity, but none of that was there. Instead she was staring straight at Madoka, solid and serious. As if she could wait forever for the answer. 

Madoka scrunched up her eyes, then managed to whisper out an answer about the box-cutter. It was written down, and she was rewarded with a smile. 

But then came the hardest part.

“Madoka, when you cut your arm, what was it that you were thinking?” 

Madoka shrunk, she didn’t want to go back to those thoughts. Didn’t want to remember.

“I was upset. I thought I deserved it.” She managed to stammer out, eventually. 

The psychologist nodded, but didn’t seem satisfied.

“And when you did it. Did you plan to die?” Madoka shook her head, she didn’t look up, but she knew it was the truth, she hadn’t planned it to be so bad.

“Okay, Madoka. But did you want to die, at that moment?” Madoka opened her mouth but nothing came out, she wasn’t refusing to answer, she just didn’t…

“I don’t know.” That might of been the most honest answer she could ever give.

The psychologist smiled kindly, she put her notebook down. 

“Do you want to die now?” 

“No.” Not right this second.

“Have you been having thoughts of suicide?”

This is it, this is when they lock me up.

“Yes.” She was so sure this was the final question, she barely heard the next one.

“Do you have a plan to attempt suicide?” Madoka shook her head, earnestly. The psychologist nodded kindly.

“Well that’s the end of the questions.”

Madoka blinked in surprise.

“I’s there anything you’d like to ask me now.”

Madoka was stumped.

“How are you feeling about going home soon?”

She shrugged.

“Are you excited to see your friends again?”

“They won’t want to see me.” Madoka blurted out.

“Why do you say that.”

“Well…they haven’t come to see me, they haven’t tried to contact me at all, they probably didn’t even notice I was gone.” Her voice trailed away in horror.

“Are you sure that’s true?” Madoka stared. “Do they know you’re in the hospital?” She shook her head. “You don’t have a mobile do you?” She nodded. “Do you think maybe they’re actually worrying about you, waiting for you to come back, but just aren’t able to get in touch.” Madoka hadn’t considered it. She was so convinced that nobody would care if she went missing. “Why don’t you ask your parents if you can call a friend, you might be surprised.” 

The time for the appointment was soon up, and Madoka was left alone to her thoughts. If therapy is anything like that, maybe it won’t be so bad.

Chapter Text

“Dad.”

“Yes Madoka?” 

Madoka breathed deeply, clenching her fists in the hospital blanket.

“Did, um…did any of my friends ask after me?” She carefully scanned her father’s face. She’d been working up the courage to ask for almost 12 hours now. 

If he says no. I’ll know it’s all true. What I’ve been thinking. They don’t care. They don’t-

“Of course. Your friend Hitomi called us, and her mother; and Sayaka has been badgering us almost non-stop.” He looked closely at her face. “Sorry Madoka, we didn’t want to stress you out, or make you feel pressured to talk to anyone.”

“I want to talk to Sayaka.” She spoke more confidently than she felt. Her father nodded.

She hadn’t spent her time in bed doing nothing. At a suggestion from her psychologist, Madoka had written out all the things she wanted to say to Sayaka. As the time of the call approached, she wasn’t sure that they’d all be said, but still she held her notebook in hand, as her father handed over the phone and left the room.

“Madoka! Are you alright? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for ages, but they said you couldn’t see anyone. Nobody will tell me what’s happening. Are you really hurt? Were you unconscious? Didn’t you want to see me?” Madoka was overwhelmed by the barrage, and by the genuine distress in Sayaka’s voice. She felt choked up.

“Of course I wanted to talk to you. I just…I didn’t know you would be asking after me. I didn’t think…” I didn’t think you’d care. But that was a horribly unfair thought, she didn’t dare say it.

But Sayaka seemed to realise. There was a pause, and then the sound of a muffled sniff.

“Oh Madoka.” Madoka was horrified to hear her friend in tears, Sayaka was always so strong and lively. “Madoka, whatever's wrong? No one will tell me. That new girl; she knows something, but she wouldn’t say, even though I’m your best friend. Won’t you tell me? Whatever it is, I’ll be here for you.” 

Madoka felt her own eyes tear up. “You’ll think differently of me.” She whispered. There was a pause.

“I think differently of you every time I think of you. That’s life isn’t it? But I’ll never stop loving you. Being a true friend means I should know the important things about you, even if it’s hard.” 

Madoka looked at her notebook, she took a breath.

“Well, I…I’ve been feeling really down lately. Not for any particular reason, I’m just sad a lot of the time.” There was a small sound of acknowledgment. “And…well, I started to…um…hurt myself. A few days ago I cut my arm badly, and, uh, it was bleeding a lot. I fainted and I had to go to hospital.” She exhaled, she’d done it. It was hard, but now it was done. She waited. Then she heard a sob.

“Madoka, I'm so sorry.” Sayaka cried. “You’ve been hurting all this time, and I didn’t even realise! You got seriously hurt, and I wasn’t there to help you. I’m a terrible friend!” 

“No!” Madoka exclaimed. “You’re not, you’re a better friend than I could ever deserve.” But that just made Sayaka cry more. 

“I haven’t done anything to help you at all.”

“Just you being there was help. Somedays, I could only get myself to school because I knew you’d be there. I was the bad friend, because I kept on thinking that you didn’t really like me, even though you always tried your best to be a good friend.”

“But it’s my fault you thought that!” Sayaka persisted.

Madoka was about to argue back, but then she paused.

“It’s nobody’s fault.” She hesitated. “Not even mine. Listen, I’m going to make a promise. I promise that I won’t always think that you don’t really like me, and I’ll come to you if I’m struggling again. Does that seem fair?”

“Only if you let me promise that I’ll try to be a better friend, and always help you if you come to me.”

“Okay, then we both promise.”

After that there was more chatting. Even though it wasn’t about important things, Madoka felt happier than she had for a long time. She missed Sayaka; how long had it been since they had talked like this? 

But there was someone else she was missing.

“Sayaka…You know Homura?”

“The transfer student?”

“Yes, will you give her this number? I want to speak to her, but only if she wants to.”

“You want to speak to her??”

“Please Sayaka.”

Homura had been unable to remove Madoka from her mind. She hadn’t been back to school, but after the last disastrous conversation she’d had with Miki, Homura didn’t dare approach Madoka’s friends for information.

As it turned out, Miki was the one to approach her. Homura cowered nervously, expecting another interrogation. But the girl looked slightly ashamed as she walked up.

She thrust a piece of paper under Homura’s nose. She grabbed at it instinctively, seeing that it was a string of numbers.

“This is Madoka’s number. She said she wanted you to call.” Miki got some of her old glare back. “You will call won’t you?” Homura nodded frantically, and Miki turned away. But then she paused. “Sorry I was a bit short with you before, I was just worried.” Then she walked away, before Homura could respond.

Homura was always nervous about phone calls, but she was so eager to hear from Madoka, she dialed the number as soon as she got home. It picked up after a few rings, but for a while, neither end spoke. 

Homura had no idea what to say, she almost thought about putting the phone down, until there was a voice.

“Homura?”

“Yes, it’s me. Sorry, Miki, I mean Sayaka, I mean your friend said I should call.”

Madoka laughed a little. Homura smiled at that, even if she was laughing at her, it was still nice to hear.

“And you did. I’m glad. I thought you deserved a bit of an explanation.”

“I don’t.” Homura said in a rush. “You don’t have to tell me anything, it’s none of my business, I mean we barely know each other.” But I feel like I know you. She didn’t say.

“That’s alright. I wanted to tell you.” There was a pause. “Well I’ve been struggling lately, feeling very down. I guess I thought that doing…what you saw, would help. But it didn’t.” She gave another laugh, less amused. “So now I’m here.”

“Have you been committed? To a psych ward I mean.” Homura asked hesitantly. 

“No! I mean I hope I won’t, I should be leaving the hospital today, and then I’ll get a therapist soon.” 

“Well that’s good news. But it’s not so bad, on the psych ward I mean.” There was a long pause, Homura realised what she had said. She didn’t wait for Madoka to ask; she had already overshared, might as well go all in.

“I was in one of those, not too long ago. I…well I tried to kill myself. It sucked, but I met some nice people.” She bit her lip, that was definitely too much information, but Madoka’s secrets had already been shared with her without the girl’s permission, so it only seemed fair. “I’m just saying this because I get it, a bit. And you can always come to me if you want to talk about something. I mean we’re friends right?” She hadn’t meant the last part to sound so hopeful, but she realised now that this whole time she had been afraid that Madoka would never want to talk to her again; that the whole thing was ruined. But when Madoka spoke up, Homura could hear the smile in her voice. 

“Yeah. We’re friends, and I’m glad to have someone to talk to, someone who understands.” There was a peaceful, friendly silence. Then a muffled noise from Madoka’s end of the call, somebody else talking to her. “I have to go now, Homura. But see you at school, okay? Soon.”

“See you soon.”