You're not as cold anymore, you know how to feel. Somehow, you've changed. Perhaps it was because your heart finally forgot how to feel the pain that had constantly held it in its throes. Or perhaps it was the fact that you knew that she was gone, dead, and the body you had held would not be back. You knew that you would keep on cycling through lives. This time, you wouldn't be one person. Homura Akemi would never be back, physically in appearance, at least. No longer would there be long black, wavy hair, with stormy purple eyes, and pale skin, and petit, slender frame. All that was left was a broken, empty, cold-hearted girl, (now a guy, this life, I guess it won't last too long will it? Just another life), who had lost everything and everyone multiple times.
You had seen horrors that even a hardened war veteran would cry about. You could scream tens of thousands of times worse than any tortured prisoner. You could not cry. The tears would not come, because all the pain of your life was too much for tears, all you had were gut-wrenchingly quiet gasps, and the heart pounding screams of agony from the nightmares.
And the blood. So much blood. Why would it not come off your hands? You don't know why, but you try anyway. You clean until you bleed, and it's still there.
Why won't it come off?
You know that it hurts every time you go there, every time you return to learn that wretched subject. Magic. You know it's not the same type as what you're thinking, but you can't help but compare. Every time someone says 'witch' you can't help the snarl that builds up in your throat, only to be choked back by the sobs (only the memories of them can bring the only semblance of tears, you don't cry though, you still can't cry). Of course, outwardly, all any one sees is a blank face, perhaps a small smile, you know how to hide things behind something else. After all this time, you've done something right. You never fail at this.
You've taken to humming "Sayaka's song" under your breath. You've been feeling off ever since you went to the school, you don't know why. Suddenly, one day it hits you. The feeling only lasts around certain people. Soon you make connections, cause every time you see these people, your heart cries out, and you don't feel as dead inside as you had before.
You know them.
Sayaka is a nice pureblood, outcast, named Luna Lovegood. You can tell because you instinctively know. You've gotten close to her, from afar, she does not actually know you, but you know her. You stop bullies (quietly, quickly) before they hurt her whenever you can, and you try to be nice. You offer her a smile every time you see her. Once she even approached you after you accidentally bumped into her. Her touching you made your heart lurch, you hated being touched. She apologized and you parted ways.
That night you cried yourself to sleep. After all, if Sayaka was alive, then why couldn't Madoka be alive too?
Sometimes you had fleetingly thought that maybe this life was the last, but when you woke from your death into another life you would think, I guess not. Somehow, the same hope flourished in this world. Sayaka was breathing, alive, once more.
Every life usually had a pattern. You lost anything or anyone that mattered to you, and you had to save something or someone from something. One of your favorite lives was in a the past, you were a ninja. A tool, and you enjoyed the feeling of control you felt. You enjoyed the teachings that you were taught, it was amazing. Your lives were usually sporadic. The time line changing every time, usually also the dimension. Screwing with time screwed yourself along with it. In the end, it was never worth it.