madoka doesn't say a word as homura speaks. she sits there in silence, sniffling and wiping at her eyes and trying to catch her breath, and listens to every last bit that the other girl has to say. private thoughts and unspoken responses fly by with each word: you're still my friend even if you've changed, and then why do you have to do it, and even i'm here right now, aren't i?
she keeps all her thoughts to herself, refusing to let a single one pass through until homura's said her piece. and then, only then, she thinks deeply, wipes her eyes, takes a breath, and responds.
And that's okay. Nobody could blame you for that. I wouldn't let them.
it's... weird to think about, of course. it's weird, and kind of sad to dwell on it. she's not the right madoka, at this point, is she? she's someone homura's just going to have to leave eventually, one way or another.
but she can accept that.
I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I know it's selfish of me. And I know I've already made you go through so much. But... when you do leave, I want to be there to wish you luck. I don't want to have any regrets when I watch you go.