Title: Doors

Summary: When one door closes, another door fools you into thinking it's open.

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater

Doors

She had always found doors to be fascinating. Whether they were figurative doors that philosophers always talked about, or actual doors. Locked doors, open doors, doors that opened inwards, doors that opened outwards. It didn't matter, really, as long as they were doors. She believed that her initial interest in doors began when she was twelve years old, Medusa had been quite demanding of human souls this year and had taken to sending Crona to small buildings and in some cases churches.

It didn't take long to slay the humans, it never did. Often times when those few lucky targets would escape the half hearted swings of her sword, they would run in a painfully desperate manner for the door in an attempt to open it up. They always screamed, they always cried when the door wouldn't budge, and like the quite observer she was she would just sit there soundlessly watching, the knowledge that the door did not in fact open the way they were pulling it at the tip of her tongue. She would watch them struggle for a while, contemplating whether or not to help, until the madness took over and her face distorted into an insane smile once again

Red blood usually coated the walls after that. The screaming would stop.

Then, like the obedient child she was, she would slink back into her cell, (for she could never possibly see it as her room) crawl to her corner and play the screams and cries of her victims over and over again in her head until the noise and gore became to much and she threw up what little food she had left in her stomach. When she was done heaving, she would lie there in silence. Maybe there would be a soft whimper here or there, but it was never enough to reach Medusa's ears. No. Medusa wouldn't like that. So she would just lie there thinking about the door in the building that refused to open for the souls. Were all doors this important? Did all doors lead to a different outcome for you if they decided to open? How many people had perished because they couldn't figure out something as simple as which way a door opened? And what about locked doors, did those affect people too?

Often times she would sit there and contemplate the importance of doors for hours on an end, never moving from her corner, and sometimes not complaining when Ragnorak came out to harass her or cut off the circulation in her arms with duct tape. After all, Medusa never let her out unless it was to take more lives. Open doors, locked doors, doors that only opened one way….they were all the same, they all promised something. Whether it was an escape, safety, or hope. They would seem like such great manners of transport, and yet when a crucial moment came they always failed.

She had witnessed enough attempts to know this.

It hadn't occurred to her that her fascination had begun a lot earlier than this however until she met the girl with the two pigtails. The girl (who she now knows is name d Maka) was confusing to say the least. She was quite weak and seemed like a relatively normal victim. She screamed just like every other target she had hunted, wasted her time opening doors in the wrong direction, exactly like every other target she had ever had. But there was something else, it just didn't seem to matter to this girl exactly how weak she was, she continued to fight with her scythe. Still, this wasn't what had confused her, not really anyways.

It was her eyes.

Her eyes didn't show the typical terror of her past kill. They didn't leak with tears, or quiver with anxiety. They were steady, confident….scary. The girl frightened her…no, that wasn't it at all. She didn't frighten Crona, she terrified her. How could she just stand there and speak so assertively? It wasn't until three nights later that she understood her own fear of the scythe technician's eyes as well as the origin of her attention to doors.

She had never seen her opponents souls through those kinds of doors before…..

That is when it had hit her, the way a child hits the concrete floor after having missed a monkey bar. She had always been interested in doors. Ever since she could remember, she had sat in her cold cell, watching the door, always watching for movement. Always watching for her mother to take her out, let her go. Freedom.

It occurred to her that she had always seen the door as her savior, the one thing that could set her free. Maka had promptly shattered this silent hope unknowingly with her visage, her doors. She had always had a negative view of doors, but she never believed anything she stated about the objects.

Now she did. Doors no longer worked in her favor, or offered hope, they weren't heralds of good fortune. They were portals of mass destruction, her undoing. She didn't know how to deal with this, she didn't know how to deal with this, SHE DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH THI-

She was going to die.

Her second opponent wasn't exactly so terrifying. He was strong, confident, but unlike before Crona did her best to avoid looking at his eyes. She went out of her way to bow her head down and stare off into space .

She couldn't see the shinigami boy's soul, and therefore, (she concluded) he couldn't see her soul either. For a while she fought him, listened to him speak, this was ok. She could handle this.

That was until he went and ruined it. When the boy jumped up and wrapped his legs around her, his eyes stared directly into hers. Her heart stopped at this, it just stopped like a car coming into contact with a wall.

It was his doors, they looked just like her mother's.

A scream ripped out of her throat with such ferocity that she was certain she had coughed up blood. How could this be? How could another have entered her life so suddenly? She did her best to fight the boy as quickly as she could and run from the situation, hide.

Her cell, she needed her cell. She couldn't handle this at all, she wasn't ready. She needed to get out now!

But he wouldn't let her go, he chased her across the sea on his floating board, (Soul explained to her much later that it was called a skateboard)why wouldn't he let her go? Couldn't he understand that she wasn't ready? Ragnorak threatened her from above and she responded with her usual pleas, her usual protests. Anything to forget about the boy with Lady Medusa's eyes.

When the boy suddenly stopped her heart started beating again, she could breath once more. He wasn't chasing her anymore, mother wasn't watching anymore.

"Bu-bum, bu- bum, bu- bum."

She stayed awake for a long time listening to the beat of her heart.

Shibusen, 3:30am

Crona sat awake in her new corner, her shoulders slightly trembled In remembrance of her past memories and contemplations. She was having a hard time sleeping, as usual, and so the movie strip in her mind had dismissed her protests and played itself before her eyes. Shoving her past mistakes in her face . Her memories were evil things, they continuously tormented her, infiltrating her mind when ever feasibly possible. There was no escape, there was no salvation.

But that was alright, she deserved this. She deserved to be tormented, beat down, suffocated, after everything that she had done. No, murderers and traitors didn't get a second chance. Which is why it crushed her heart to see Maka trying so hard to reach her. Trying so hard to break through her shell again, to reassure her of her own worth. It didn't matter how many times Crona tried to restrain her, keep her at arms length. 'What if I betray you again, what if I hurt you? 'But this never seemed to deter Maka.

And the boy with the guns…..Shinigami-kun. He had been paying an awful lot of attention to her as of late. He was probably furious with her, disappointed for having treated her so benevolently before the incident. Yes, he was angry, he despised her, wanted her gone. She was a monster, a weak, pathetic monster with black blood flowing through her veins. Nothing absolutely nothing about her was worth saving.

Tears dripped down her face, and into her lap. They felt cool and heavy on her hot, nearly smoldering on her face. What did they all see when they looked into her eyes? What kind of soul did they see? How broken and mangled was she in their eyes? How worthless was she? Were her doors locked? Broken? Or did they have neon yellow caution signs wrapped across the center of her doors? Was the sign 'Keep out' scrawled across them? She felt lost, and alone, she felt so, so….useless. She was trapped in an eternal maze with terrible memories woven into the hedges, lost in a rundown city with no directions to get home. There weren't any corners that could keep her safe any longer, there weren't any corners that could keep her hidden from the doors.

"AAAAHHHHH!"

Her head instantly snapped up at the sound of the drawn out ululation. The tears continued to cascade down her wet cheeks as she looked around the room in search of the intruder, she didn't recognize the voice, she didn't recognize who was wailing-

"AAAAHHHH!"

She quickly shut her mouth, and the noise stopped. She realized she was crying, her throat ached from the unconscious bitter hollers she had let spring from her mouth. She furiously attempted to stifle her crying, what if somebody heard? What if someone listened in through her window? She couldn't have anyone worrying for something as unimportant as herself. It wouldn't be right, it wouldn't be-

*Knock, knock*, "Crona?" A masculine voice interrupted her train of thought, veering it off it's tracks and crashing it into the ground. Fears cold spiked hand gripped her heart in it's icy blue clutches as she was reminded of who that voice belonged to.

He'd heard.

"Crona? Is that you? What's wrong? Can you please let me in?" Death the Kid continued to speak through the door, his voice firm and yet made of something else…..a silver something, a soft something.

His voice wasn't angry, or annoyed. It wasn't hateful or spiteful, it was soft and firm and….worried? No, no, he was probably just speaking to her in that way in an attempt to get her to shut up, she was probably disturbing him.

"Crona, please….open the door…." His voiced dipped into a more pleading tone. That's when something inside of Crona loosened. Before she even realized what she was doing, she slid herself up the wall and shakily brought her feet to the door.

Her arm reached out and turned the knob.

Death the Kid stood on the other side of the door. His face was a ghostly pale in the poor lighting of the room, but there was a slight crease in between his eyebrows. She nearly shut the door in his face before she realized that it wasn't a sign of irritation. Not at all, it was wonder, confusion. He didn't say anything as he wordlessly slipped inside the room and shut the door behind him. She jumped slightly when the door clicked, she couldn't very well run now….

Her bed felt cold and strange beneath her as Kid settled themselves next to each other on her seldom used mattress. He directed his line of vision to her face , but she refused to look at him. She would not stare into his eyes, they looked too much like her mother's. They sat like that for some time, Crona continued to muffle the hiccups and tears while Kid silently watched her, waiting for her to compose herself, to speak.

But she wouldn't speak. The fear had spread to her voice box, she couldn't speak. She couldn't breath. It's hand gripped her insides, made her insides churn. She couldn't speak. It felt like hours before Kid's voice cut through the tension in the room. "Crona…please look at me.." The words slipped through his lips and into her heart. His voice was so calm and gentle, she almost did look up from her lap.

She couldn't look at him, but his voice had loosened the tight grip around her heart enough to speak.

"W-why are you h-h-hereaahh!" She failed, her voice broke off at the end and before she knew it, she was back to crying. Tears streamed from her eyes, as her shoulder's shook with the pain and disappointment of it all. How could she have betrayed all of her friends? How could she have mindlessly followed her mother's orders? How! Why couldn't she have made the right choice! Why! Why! Why! WHY!WHY!WHY!WHY-

Strong arms wrapped themselves around her and dragged her towards him. Her face buried itself into his clean pressed suite, finally the sobs broke out full force and she cried out all her sorrow into his chest.

"I-I DON'T KNOW H-HOW TO M-MAKE IT S-S-STOP!" She wailed out, but he only tightened his hold on her and inclined his head to her ear level.

"Make what stop Crona?" He softly cooed in her ear as his hand rubbed soft circles into her back.

"I-I'm a t-traitor, w-worthless!" Her broken up voice pathetically stuttered the words out as she continued to sob into the young shinigami. She heard a gasp hitch in his throat as his hand abruptly stopped stroking her back. 'here it comes ,' she thought, 'he's going to yell at me and maybe lock me in this room, he's going to leave me….' But Kid just sat there, he didn't get up, he didn't leave, he didn't unwrap his arms from around her.

"He's going to lock me away….just like lady Medus-'

"Don't say that. Don't you ever say that. You aren't a traitor, it was a mistake, you aren't worthless either. You aren't worthless…you just don't realize how important you are to all of us…." His voice drifted off after that as his hands ventured to her hair and began to stroke her pink/lavender hair, twirling the loose strand between his long fingers.

"My dear…you are anything but worthless." He whispered as she felt him incline his head to look at her once more.

Perhaps it was his gentle hold on her hair, or maybe it was his tone of voice that spurred her to lift up her head and meet his gaze. Whatever it was, she looked up. Pure gold doors with specks of sunshine looked down at her dark powdery cyan ones. A startled gasp escaped her slightly chapped lips as she stared up at them.

They weren't her mother's eyes.

Not quite her mother's eyes. Medusa never held her while she cried, never comforted her with gentle words and caresses. These doors weren't spiked doors you might find in a dungeon, they were gentle safe doors you might find in the interior of a family home. Death the Kid continued to look into her eyes until her shivering stopped altogether. She was no longer crying, and the room was silent once more, but it wasn't the hard nerve racking silence there had been before.

Crona tentivly rested her head against the fifteen year old boy's chest once more as she welcomed the tranquil silence. They weren't quite her mother's eyes, and the boy's beating heart beat wasn't quite her mother's heart beat either.

"Bu-bum, bu-bum, bu-bum.." She listened to the steady beat of his heart for some time. She decided she like the sound of his heartbeat. She listened to his beating heart for a long time, until finally, her eyes closed. Death the Kid stayed, he never once left her.

And for the first time in days, Crona slept.

Author's Note: So how was that for a first attempt at a story? Feel free to leave reviews, I appreciate constructive critisism! Oh, and I apologize if the character's seem a little OC...but, well, I tried. Thank you very much for taking the time to read my story!