Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Goodnight sunshine!”

Monika’s voice crackled through Sayori’s phone,

“Night Moni, I love you..”

Sayori replied, “Love you too.” Monika’s voice was clearly dripping with affection even despite being barely audible through the telephone noise. There was a moment of silence before the ‘VVPH VVPH’ that signaled she had hung up, Sayori curled up and pushed her phone off the bed, she wanted to cry and she had no reason. Monika calling her was supposed to make her happy.. but it didn’t anymore. She wanted to say Monika moving off to college hadn’t changed their relationship but it had. And she hated it. Monika had always been one for words, whether it be a simple ‘love you’ or a long winded poem. But Sayori liked to touch. She liked to hug and cuddle and hold hands and.. other stuff… and this, it just, it wasn’t the same.

Only hearing her girlfriend’s voice over the phone, only seeing her in pictures or on a pixelated video call, seeing her in person only every few months for breaks.. it was eating her alive. She still loved Monika, she knew Monika still loved her. But every moment when Monika wasn’t holding her, every moment of her life, it was so.. empty. She yearned for nothing more than to just go back to last year when everything was normal, when Monika lived a short walk away, when Nat and Yuri didn’t have jobs to worry about and hardly talked to her anymore.. the club. She wanted the club back so badly.

The tears were thick, they stung while they wormed their way out slowly as she fought them back, it wasn’t fair, none of this was fair. She wanted her friends back, she wanted her club back, she wanted her fucking partner back.

But she didn’t have a ‘partner’ anymore, a partner is someone who is by your side through all your struggles, a partner is someone you get to steal clothes from and laugh when they ask why you’re wearing them, a partner is there. What she had was a long distance girlfriend. And it was miserable.

She just had to stick it out a little longer. For.. wait how long do you have to go to college to be a psychologist..? She fished her phone off the floor to look it up….. the tears stopped, she was angry now, this new kind of upset made the hair on her neck stand up, her breathing was heavy and she couldn’t feel her face. “Eight to ten YEARS!?” She shouted out loud to herself and threw her phone across the room, listening to it strike the wall and land on her carpet with a ‘pmf’

“I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS FOR A DECADE!” The tears were back now, plentiful and easy flowing down her frustration red face, “I DON’T GET MY MONIKA BACK FOR EIGHT TO TEN FUCKING YEARS!?” She repeated to herself in disbelief, surprised her Mom hadn’t screamed at her to quit yelling at this hour, she picked up a stuffed animal from her bed and tossed it at the wall to fall abandoned by her phone.

Her door creaked open and the silhouette of an older woman in a robe blocked out the hall light,

“Sayori..? Are you alright?”

At the sight of her Mother the anger all seemed to melt away into bitter heartbreak as she let out a struggling sob, “No!” She cried as the older woman rushed to her side. She felt so.. selfish, Monika was out pursuing a career she really wanted and here she was blubbering about it like the whole world revolves around her, she was horrible. She curled up to her Mother’s lap and whatever tears she had left poured out like a flowing waterfall, “She- Monika’s go- she’s gon- na be g- gone for ten years..!” The words fell out in a jumbled mess, she just couldn’t keep it in anymore, she couldn’t take it.

Hitori sat in her closet but she played no music, instead she thought, thought through everything she wanted to say but just.. couldn’t. But that was normal, what was different today aside from the silence was the subject matter.

Kita, one of her best friends, the outgoing, energetic, bubbly girl that seems not to have a fear in the world.

She set Hitori’s teeth on edge since the moment they met, the way she carried herself, the way she looked at her while waiting for her to talk, her voice, her beautiful yellow eyes, listening to her sing on stage, the look of determination she had while trying her hardest to learn guitar. It all set a flight of flaming butterflies alight somewhere deep inside her, and she just.. she couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted her so bad. She just, needed to get the words out, speak what she wanted into the universe!

But even now, in her soundproof closet, in the dark, where she was most at ease, she couldn’t say anything. She almost choked every time she tried, it was making her sick.

So she thought.

And thought.

And maybe took a couple stress naps.

Until four pm became two am.

Then it finally hit her! She’d write it down, knowing Kita would read it was still humiliating, but there’s a couple positives, Hitori had solid evidence that Kita liked girls. So that hurtle is already jumped, she just had to hope that she would let her down easy when she rejected her.

And so, she wrote it down, poured her heart out. It honestly felt similar to writing song lyrics. And then she waited, sleeplessly. She would give it to her after guitar practice because she can easily run away and not have to hear her read it.

Plain and simple, this was going to be easy.

The final strum of practice had wrung out and faded away when Kita sighed,

“Alright! The bell will probably ring soon, I should get going, thank you as always!”

She smiled, that glowing smile that actually seemed to pull away the shadow of the staircase they sat under, Hitori nodded and watched in silence as she packed up her guitar and started away, she gathered every bit of courage for her entire life past present and future and reached in her pocket for the letter.

“Kita w- wait.”

She stopped and turned around, that smile still painted on her face. “Yeah?” She asked, head tilted.

And it was all gone, every drop of courage immediately erased. She held the letter behind her back, “I.. um, nevermind I forgot.” She mumbled, Kita laughed, a small exhale really.

“Alrighty! Try to remember before we meet at starry okay?” She asked, Hitori hoped she couldn’t hear the letter crunch in her hand, “O- okay.” A complete lie.

As Kita left Hitori carefully placed the letter in a nearby trashcan. It was a stupid idea anyway.

Homura stepped inside her apartment, a cold, empty place, and set her soul gem on the kitchen counter as her magical attire faded away.

Another night out fighting wraiths with the quartet, another exhausting night being the only one to remember. She stood, considering making something to eat but with a deep breath decided to put it off. She gently picked up her gem and went to her bed instead, she sat of the edge, and began to pray.

“Hey Madoka.. I survived another day without you, I’m sure you’ll be happier about that then I am…”

She took off her shoes and laid down, laying her arms weakly over her stomach.

“Since you can see all the timelines now I’m sure you remember when I took you out to that nice cafe? I talked like it was about important magical girl business but I was freaking out inside that it felt like I was on a date with you.”

She laughed to herself.

“I went there today, skipped school to go and order what you did… is it weird that I memorized your order..? Oh well, it was good. You have good taste.”

Another laugh, more embarrassed this time.

“Do you remember the letters? I must’ve wrote like forty before I stopped seeing a point, stupid gushy love letters. I signed the first few with ‘Your Secret admirer~’ but I wasn’t getting enough satisfaction from that and just started taking credit…”

She shifted onto her side.

“I’ll never forget your face when you opened the first one I signed.. ‘Madoka Kaname, from the moment I laid eyes on you I knew I’d fallen deeply in love, any wish you have is my only command, at the snap of your fingers I’ll be by your side, I am a hopeless slave to my affection. -Akemi’ I was watching as you read it from around a corner, and like you knew I was there.. you looked right at me.. red like a tomato and jaw slack. And I ran. But you caught me…”

A long heavy silence.

“I want nothing more than to see your face again…”

She paused again as if waiting for a response that never came.

1 FLO4T 1N 4N 3NDL3SS S34RCH FOR YOU, UN41D3D, UNPROT3CT3D, UNS4T1SF13D, 4LON3. COUNTL3SS SW33PS W4ST3D FLO4T1NG 1N 3NDL3SS SP4C3, STR3TCH1NG B3YOND TH3 B4RR13R OF T1M3, 1T TRULY COULD B3 NOTH1NG OR 3V3RYTH1NG.

1 KNOW 1M W4ST1NG MY L1F3 4S 1 W4ST3 4W4Y, YOUR3 GON3. BUT 1 C4NNOT L3T YOU GO, 1 WORK3D SO H4RD TO F1X 1T, TO F1X 3V3RYTH1NG, BUT YOU ST1LL 3SC4P3 M3. Y3T 1 S34RCH 4NYW4Y B3C4US3

1 H4T3 YOU,

              1 N33D YOU,

                                 1 M1SS YOU,

                                                            1 LOV3 YOU.

I remember thinking with all my heart that she was guilty, and I was wrong. I remember feeling remorse beyond my years for that, and I remember it coming to a head, I remember that little girl telling me how wicked I was to accuse her, and it broke my heart. I remember forty eight hours of monotonous silence as I tried every single combination five times over, my nose feeling stiff with every freezing breath, my fingers numbing against the locks, I remember the fervent frustration that kept me warm with every failed attempt, determined because it was her. Determined to apologize, even if not with words.

I remember that look she gave me, and when she called me by my name, such a small gesture that was but it broke down my last wall, as I caved and broke to come up with something nice to say about that imbecile I accepted that she was my friend.

We kept in contact after that, a wonder telephones are to keep friends close despite an ocean between them, she sent me funny little pictures and videos that I didn’t entirely understand, but still was amused by. Before I realized it I looked forward to them, I treasured the light hearted escape from my complicated adult life, and on days when I received no communication, I was almost devastated, off my game for the remainder.

It was about seven years after that look that I realized I had fallen in love with her. We'd met each other in person again three times since then, twice by coincidence for work, and once as a meeting for pleasure we’d agreed on.

It was on that third trip to America that it hit me harder in the face than anything ever had and a shiver overtook me, luckily while her back was turned.

I was deeply in love with Maya Fey.

I’d only been too caught up with my duties to realize it.

It made me think back to Papa, since his death sentence his name had been slandered so deeply into the mud that it could never be recovered. Countless tabloids and articles, social media theorists and simple civilians all claimed the same thing despite my statements that they were out of their minds, that he abused me. They really were steadfast in their conviction that my path in life was determined by the raised hand of my loving father. It disgusts me, I cannot claim a convicted murderer was a good man, it would be against my very nature, but he was a perfect father.

I was spoiled rotten, treated with love and respected in my words even as a child, not so much as his voice was ever raised to me or my sisters, or even Miles.

He supported me in everything, even when I quit, like gymnastics for example, I was not good right away, I became frustrated and I quit. And he was not angry, he was not disappointed, he understood I was a child, when I told him at the age of twelve that I did not enjoy the idea of the company of men he said to me “Then a fine daughter in law I expect to meet one day” and he smiled, I loved Papa.. though I suppose I am getting very distracted from my point, apologies.

It took me four months after that realization to say something and even then it took me being rather inebriated from a gentleman’s party I was mistakenly invited to for my name to send the following text message:

Maya Fey, my dearest friend.

It is with a heavy heart that I must tell you that I have kept your friendship under false pretenses.

I am madly in love with you and should have told you right away, I am so so sorry, I hope with all my soul that this does not sour your opinion of me.

~FVK

Waking up the next morning to discover that she had not only seen the message before I could delete it but replied that she was catching a flight to Europe to talk about it in person sent me into my third ever, and worst, panic attack.

Of course that did stop her coming, or arranging a place to meet.. needless to say I wanted to curl up and die.

But for my manners and my name I decided that would not be the case, I would meet with her, inform her gently that I meant none of it, a lie. But I was afraid damnit! And that I was drunk.

That is not how it went.

She greeted me sweetly as I sat down across from her, offering pleasant words about ‘how long it has been’ but I assume after seeing how tense I was she dropped it and cut to the chase.

“You wanna talk about the message Franny? Or should I?”

“I was, as I attempted to call and tell you this morning, drunk. There was no meaning behind it, certainly not enough to travel for.”

“You wouldn’t have said it if there was no truth in it, Franziska, please. Talk to me.”

“I have, I told you, I was not in a clear state of mind.”

“Please don’t butt your head about this, it’s important, at least to me.”

“I am not butting my head, I’m sorry to have given you the wrong impression.”

“Can I at least tell you what I thought about it?”

“I see no point, as I have said the words meant nothing.”

Then, in an instance, she became angry, more upset than I’d ever seen her, even when being falsely accused of murder she’d never cried in front of me. That ever holding childlike immaturity that I had found so endearing, that I had loved was being twisted into a muted tantrum, and it hurt me deeply enough that it felt as if I’d been physically assaulted, I wonder then how much it hurt her…

“Fine Franziska! If you’re too stubborn to say you love me then that’s your call! But know I was ready for you! And this is your fault!”

She screamed at me as she stood up from the table and stormed away, not hearing me calling for her to wait, I leaned back in my chair, utterly defeated.

All I wanted was becoming a smaller and smaller speck of purple fading away, and it was nobody’s fault but my own, I’d ruined everything, I doubted she’d even want to be my friend any longer.

I felt the eyes of the other cafe patrons on me and without thinking or even trying I slammed my fist into the table, trying not to make the tears streaming down my face the most obvious part of my appearance.

“WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT!?” I shouted at the top of my lungs and they all returned to their own lives quickly, leaving me to my misery.