(See the end of the chapter for notes .)

Chapter Text

The Dreams We Carry



Doki Doki Literature Club: Madoka Magica!AU

Disclaimer: Neither DDLC nor PMMM are my property. This story uses elements of both series. Trigger warnings for depression, suicide, self-harm, and character death.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed

And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.

(I think I made you up inside my head.)

--Sylvia Plath, “Mad Girl’s Love Song”

Shadows moved alongside me as I made my way through the empty streets of a burning city. Ash danced around me; a flake even touched my cheek. I could feel it, a tiny pressurized spot of heat. The air was acrid, heavy. I tried to breathe through my mouth, but it was no use; it was like breathing poison.

Strangely, panic eluded me. I recognized the buildings as the ones in my own city; the bridge I crossed every day to get to school had collapsed in a fierce blaze. The sidewalks were filled with faceless bodies, people crying and cursing the destruction.

Even from my point on the ground, I could feel the kiss of the flames. I needed to hide—instinct took over, and I broke into a run. My uniform skirt flapped around my thighs.

Finally, I came to an alley, studded with trash. The bricks wouldn’t burn, right? But I couldn’t see the end of it, and it scared me. A dead end.

Static cracked in my ears. And a voice. A laugh. My eyes focused in the dark. Sure enough, there was someone there, crouched in the filth. A girl, her hair long and singed at the ends. Was she the one laughing?

Sweat gathered around my hairline. Please don’t make me go, I thought, please don’t make me look—

The laughing girl turned toward me, face stretched into a smile. She looked familiar, but not familiar enough for me to—

“This is where it all begins,” she said, and her voice didn’t match her face. It was too calm—and her eyes were manic, green like a tornadic sky. I wanted to back away from her; her presence screamed danger, almost as much as the flames taking the city.

“What?” The air tasted like smoke, trash, death.

She stood up; her skirt was torn, and her knees had scorch marks on them. The tendrils of a white ribbon floated around her face.

“This is all for you,” she said, her hands outstretched, as though she were prepared to begin praying. “All of it has been for you.”

She was wearing a school uniform. The same uniform I had on, I realized, too late. She was—

“Here. Take my hand,” she said, stepping closer. I was frozen, couldn’t run, couldn’t reach for her; everything had slowed. The universe emphasized this moment. She grabbed for my arm, but her hand simply moved through my skin, as though she were a phantom grasping at a dimension beyond its reach.

“No,” she said, but that was all she could manage before the world began to darken. Smoke streamed around the brick buildings that shielded us; the fire had taken to the sky, so that all we could see before us was a red, brilliant hell.

“Wait—”

I woke with a start, gasping for air. I was in my room; the light that poured in through my window was only morning sun.

I need to stop watching anime before bed, I thought, wiping at my eyes. My alarm clock told the same old story—7:45 am, just enough time to brush my hair and teeth and scramble out the door to school.

But when I looked in the mirror, I saw it.

A little black spot on my cheek.

I wiped it away—it was soot. It smeared across my cheekbones, a haunting gray question mark.

“Ink,” I decided. It had to be.

I couldn’t dwell on it anymore—couldn’t afford to be late to my first class again. At this rate, Sayori might actually make it to school before me.

I grabbed my backpack and scrambled for the front door.

Almost simultaneously, the door to the house next to mine slammed open. To my chagrin, Sayori was leaving her own house at the same time. She smiled brilliantly in my direction.

“Just in time, Tomi,” she teased.

“Like you have any room to talk.” I trotted to catch up with her. As usual, her uniform only barely passed the dress code; her blazer was unbuttoned and her shirt collar was wrinkled. I had to guess that her hair had only briefly met a brush that morning, but as usual, her red bow was tightly secured to the side of her head.

“Hey, it’s the first day of school! Cut me some slack.” She spun around to face me, walking backward and nearly colliding with another group of students. “So! Let’s talk about clubs!”

Ugh. This already? “I told you. I’m not joining any clubs.”

She pouted immediately. “What? But we’re fourth years now! We have to start thinking about college. You are going to college, right?”

I shrugged.

“Tomi…”

“If I say I’ll look at a couple of clubs, will you stop pestering me about it?”

She brightened at my concession. “Yes! I know a couple you could look at, if you want.”

“Fine.” Her enthusiasm was draining—especially after last night. The dream had left me restless, and my fatigue was growing by the minute. “But I’m letting you know right now that I’m probably going to join the anime club, if any.”

“What? No! You can’t do that. What good is that going to do? You can watch anime at home.”

“Yeah, but if I have to join one—”

“Besides, you’ll probably be the only girl in there! Wouldn’t that be weird?” She nudged me. I supposed she had a point—I’d seen some of the guys in the anime club, and the word “creep” didn’t quite cover it. I wasn’t even that attractive, and I’d still probably get hit on the second I walked into the room.

“Okay then. What’s your big recommendation?”

She looked at me with a secretive smile, then giggled. A warning sign. I crossed my arms beneath my breasts and stopped walking.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that! I’ll show you after school. I think you’ll really like it.” She walked ahead of me, practically bouncing out of her skin.

I watched her head to her first class and sighed to myself. I’d been friends with Sayori since we were practically babies, holding hands and tripping up the kindergarten steps together. It was a friendship of convenience, mostly; she lived next door to me, and we were both the same age, and both girls. If I had met her in high school, I never likely would have given her the time of day. Too bouncy, too clumsy, too forgetful—distractingly annoying, really.

I smiled. Well, she isn’t that bad, I guess. No one else would dare talk shit about Sayori around me, and I was the one cleaning up her messes, so I had some right.

I slid into the first empty desk I could find in my new classroom, and began to doodle as the instructor clicked through a few slides and droned about his own life.

I started drawing jagged lines with my ink pen, lines that reached towards the edges of the paper. Flames.

At the bottom, I scribbled a white silken ribbon, scorched but still intact.