My personal sequel to the manga and my attempt to wrap up some loose ends (especially regarding Crona, though I'll try and give the others plenty of screen time). I'd like to thank AkireRosales, whose story My Happy Ending inspired me to write this. Also, Crona's a guy in this story, so please, no arguing. Also, in case shippers are on deck, this is meant to be platonic, not romantic. Only my second fanfic (my first is Crona meets Excalibur). Sorry if it sucks. Please review after reading.

Darkness, that's all there was wherever you looked. Things which once had shape and form before being taken by madness were now a part of this darkness. Yet, among this dark void, there was a very distinct shape and form. A curled up shape and form of pink hair on a slim, pale body. This was the shape and form of the Demon Swordsman, Crona, and to him, this darkness was not at all strange. He'd lived most of his life in it.

Yet, even so, his mind did not occupy itself with the pain, loneliness, and self-loathing to which he was most accustomed. No, instead he often found his thoughts drifting back to that place of warmth, love, and acceptance. No matter how long he spent in the darkness and the cold, his memories of welcoming emerald green eyes were strong as ever.

Maka. Of all the years of his life, only the time spent with her and her friends seemed worth remembering.

"How long has it been?" He thought to himself.

How long had it been since he began this lonely vigil? How long since he last saw her? How long since he imprisoned himself to save her? What were those words he'd heard? "I'll definitely come back for you! So wait for me!" How long since he'd smiled and so calmly spoken those words? "I believe in you." These were the questions circulating through his troubled mind. A mind he tried to keep strong in order to suppress Asura. Should he sink too deeply into despair, that man, that force of destruction, would return to shatter the lives of his friends. So, he hovered here, kept strong, and wondered if he'd ever see them again.

After a moment of contemplation, he put his head to his knees (a position all too familiar to the young swordsman) and let out a sigh. "It doesn't matter" he spoke out into the darkness, just to hear the sound of his own voice. "As long as it takes I'll stay here, keeping you safe." He sighed again, clutching his arms. "I just wish it wasn't so hard...being alone." He rested his head on his knees.

Silence returned.

"Feeling sorry for yourself, again?" A cold voice cut through the silence.

Recognizing this voice, a shudder radiated through his spine as he lifted his head from his knees and took in the figure before him. He remembered it all too well. The arrow design on otherwise black nail polish, the sadistic smile, and most of all, those eyes, with a gaze colder than ice.

"M-Medusa-sama?" Crona stuttered out, his eyes wide with fear, a throb within his mind as he wondered if this was just another illusion created by the kishin in order to weaken him.

Her eyes narrowed in contempt. "Still as pathetic as ever, aren't you, my child? Waiting for friends that will never come, nor do you even deserve."

Crona squeezed his arm tighter. "N-no, it's just...I miss her is all."

Medusa laughed. "Really? Admit it, you expect her to come back. Isn't that just like you, forcing Maka to waste her time with you, even after everything you've done."

Crona's head sank, his eyes looking down in guilt.

Medusa continued, the intensity in her voice rising. "Your whole life, you've been nothing but a failure. You failed as a friend, a son, you couldn't even become a proper kishin."

Crona's head sank lower, into his knees.

"You don't belong with her. You're not part of her world and you never will be. You're nothing but a worthless mass-murderer. Someone like Maka shouldn't have to waste time with someone like you. No matter what you do, you'll just wind up hurting her. You should do the selfless thing and let yourself fade away like the rest of life's failures." Medusa's features sharpened and elongated as a red eye appeared in the center of her forehead. Her voice becoming closer to that of a certain kishin. "Give in, resign yourself to the madness and despair you so rightfully deserve." Her face tightened into a twisted grin.

A tear fell from Crona's eyes as his hands gripped his knees.

"No, I can't."

Medusa's features took on a look of anger.

"What?"

"Even if you're right about me, I can't give in...if I do, Maka will be sad and I don't want that."

Medusa's teeth grit.

"Will you forget her?! Don't you get it?! She's abandoned you! Moved on!" Medusa hissed.

Crona remained still, seemingly not listening.

"DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

Only silence came from Crona.

"Ridiculous." a new, yet also familiar voice chirped out.

Crona lifted his head and opened his eyes to see Medusa gone and a new shape and form in her place. The shape and form of a black figure with two giant foamy looking hands and a skull mask.

"Shi-Shinigami-sama?" Crona asked, shocked as he straightened up, wiping away his tears.

"Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous?"

"Hmm?" Crona let out, puzzled.

"Why, the idea that Maka would abandon a friend, of course. Talk about ridiculous."

Crona blinked.

"Crona" the death god called, pulling Crona from his thoughts, "I'm a Shinigami, I've been around for over 800 years and have seen my fair share of truly horrible blunders made by humanity, yet no matter how horrible the things they've done, there is still always some good worth fighting for." He gestured a large gloved hand to Crona. "You are no different, Crona. The mistakes of your past are beyond horrible, yet your future is not set in stone. You are not irredeemable or a failure. If anything, you should be somewhat proud of yourself."

"P-Proud, me?" Now Crona truly was confused.

"Of course, you saved your friends and are still the same person Maka loved so much. You should be proud that you managed to hang on to yourself, despite everything you did."

Crona rubbed his arm, unsure of what to say.

Shinigami continued. "You've come a long way and you're a little wiser than you were before, you found something you could believe in, or should I say, someone?"

Crona blushed, thinking about a pair of pigtails and a smile that he missed very much.

"Now you just need to go a little further and try believing in the things that she believed in. After all, despite what the rest world thought, just as I've always believed in humanity, Maka has always believed in you."

Crona smiled at the death god's comforting words.

"Thank you, Shinigami-sama."

"Don't mention it."

This moment between them was broken by a single noise.

"Crona!" A voice called out from somewhere both near and very far away. A voice Crona had been wanting to hear for quite some time. The voice continued to call as it was joined by the unmistakable sound of piano music. A glowing sheet of music materialized before Crona.

"Crona, I'm here now! It's time to go!"

Crona looked back between the death god and the music sheet.

A wave of fear overtook him at the prospect of leaving. After all, this was a world he'd betrayed and tried to destroy. Could he deal with returning to it?

"Please, Crona! I know you're afraid, but we all miss you! I...I miss you!" The voice called out, filled with want and desperation. For a moment he considering ignoring the voice, waiting for it to leave him to the darkness he belonged in and go back to it's own home. He could just picture the sadness on the face the voice belonged to. As wary as he was of the world and his place in it, he didn't have it in himself to turn his back on that face, not again.

"I think someone wants to see you." The death god advised.

Crona's eyebrows narrowed as his expression became serious. He nodded his head. Having done this before, Crona added his soul to the symphony, connecting his with souls all around the world.

"Oh, and Crona..." Shinigami called as Crona was carried away by the music.

"Hmm?" Crona turned his head back.

"Tell Kid he's doing an excellent job!"

Crona nodded his head again and smiled as he waved back at the death god. Shinigami-sama returned the gesture with a wave of his own, a blue glow emanating from him as he dissolved into dust, making Crona wonder where death gods go when they die.

Turning back to the task at hand, Crona began to resonate his soul with the others, letting the tune of Soul's music fill his ears as he felt warm light consume him, the song of millions of souls filling his ears, the darkness and silence dissipating. He focused on one note in particular, the gentle, strong note of a certain scythemeister. Crona could feel the resonance increase, the tune reaching its' crescendo, the light of the souls becoming brighter, warmer, louder until...