"This was a fantastic battle".
You're grinning happily from ear to ear, shining eyes reflecting the joy of winning, and I wink approbation. But the moment I make it to the dormitory, I'll drop dead on the couch to pierce the ceiling with my blank stare, allowing the bittersweet ache to seize my whole self...
They say three words can change your life. For me it's two, the ones we scream in the face of a danger.
"Soul Resonance!"
Those who have seen us do it were striken by our might and professionalism, still, they have no idea what they really witnessed... Except for Shibusen students like Tsubaki and Black Star who are capable of achieving the Resonance themselves, but theirs is completely different, as no two souls are identical.
When we first succeeded, I knew it was to become my obsession, a drug I could go to great lengths for.
And so it is now.
Rushing forward with infinite strength, movements synchronised, hearts beating in the same rhythm – I can feel yours through icy steel, we integrate and melt into each other for the enemy to be slain. Maka and Soul, Technician and Weapon united by a spell so strong as to wear them both out.
But there is even more to it.
Your world, always slightly alien, is open to me for a brief moment with all its secret doors ajar. It is frightening, should you contemplate it: the partner's soul is like a butterfly on your palm when you resonate. A little squeeze – and its wings are broken. A stronger one – and it no longer lives.
Complete trust and absolute vulnerability.
A shiver runs through my exhausted flesh as I recall the tart taste of your soul merging with mine.
Girls of my age tend to dream of bodily warmth, soft sensation of lips against lips, bare skin touching. I remember our will entwined, our thoughts a powerful flow, minds inseparable. After this, skin is but a colorless interface.
You would kill me for these words, huh, Soul? Luckily, you are not aware of what happens within me. There is no resonance in everyday life: we chat, argue, fall silent and get nervous over it, we clash and reconcile time and time again.
Until we are one.
And then it's over.
"Well done, Maka!" you exclaim.
"High five, Soul", the usual cheerful answer is, but downcast eyes hide the everlasting longing.
Praised for always being eager to confront our adversaries, I am ashame of my true motives.
-----------
Please leave any comments concerning language. I know I need to work on it;)