✝ic inbox.

[invocation]

[The melodious sound of chewing can be heard.]

"Leave a message, if you want.

If it's something stupid, don't waste my time with it."

Beep. _

text | voice | video

image edited by squeaks.

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[fortissimos]

That's okay. [ Or so she's convinced herself. Her own Soul Gem forms, and she gives it a strange, detached kind of look. ] The world doesn't need a magical girl who can't even do her job.

[ They're already dead, after all. Living on borrowed time. The only way she can justify her existence is if it's being used to prolong that of others. ]

[invocation]

[Kyouko dimly wonders if this is what it feels like to watch someone die. Sayaka's alive, in the physical sense, or animated, anyway, kept breathing and moving by the Soul Gem, but with the way she's talking...she might as well be dead.

What was the point of even living, if that was the way you thought? Burning yourself out for other people who didn't even care about you, wouldn't give a damn if you lived or died, didn't even bother to remember your name. She has an odd feeling of weightlessness, of the ground sweeping out from under her feet. It makes her feel helpless, and she hates that feeling most of all. How was she supposed to fix this, she wonders...to keep the same things from repeating themselves, over and over again? It's like staring at someone bleeding out and not being able to stop the blood flow. Just holding their hand, making them comfortable before they got cold and the light faded from their eyes.

Hidden from Sayaka's view, Kyouko's mouth twists in pain. She wasn't going to cry, hadn't cried in years. But it's hard to listen to this and pretend everything was normal, that this was the right way to think.]

...

I changed my mind. [She sounds tired.] I'm gonna go find the kid. She's probably got free food anyway. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone.

[fortissimos]

[ A few months ago, Kyouko going near Madoka would have been cause for a fight. But Sayaka trusts her with this much now (which is a feat, in all honesty), and so she just shrugs; the movement jerky and unnatural.

Dimly, she's aware of the problem. That what she's doing is unhealthy, and far beyond what most people would be prepared to do. But Mami had done it — Mami had given her life for the cause, had died without ever once putting herself first, and if someone so perfect had to suffer...

A person like her has no right to complain. ]

Yeah.

[ No elaboration, no real promise. The ring on her finger reforms, and she walks away without looking back. ]