notes: i wish more people wrote/read tsustar fics because they're such cool characters, sigh.
more than flesh and bones
This is how they begin: a girl on a mission, a boy looking for center stage; he shouts from rooftops to empty courtyards below and she claps with an invisible audience. His name is The Great Black Star, he tells her proudly, short with a shock of blue hair that matches his personality so well, but you can call me Black Star.
She tells him that she is Nakatsukasa Tsubaki, a shadow weapon. She is from Japan and if he doesn't have a weapon, would he like to be her meister?
He grins at her, a sun inside a boy.
They train for what seems like forever and never get anywhere. He is reckless, rash. He doesn't listen to orders or follow the ways of the ninja like he claims to. The only thing he does properly is wield her like he was born to.
They train to fight his demons and to find hers, they train to be better than Maka and Soul, and to make her a Death Scythe, but it isn't until they meet the man Mifune that Black Star begins to take things seriously—not until he almost takes the life of a child that he starts to understand what their world is and who he is; who they are in all of this.
She cradles her brother's soul in her hands. It is soft and fluttering, but reeks of death and borrowed time and the malevolence that stuck to him like a disease. He is gone and this is all that is left. Tsubaki has killed her brother, achieved her goal, set things back into place. She is the enchanted sword and several others. She is all he had ever wanted and more, now.
Black Star stares at her when she comes back, black lines slipping down her face and shoulders, back into her soul. He is bloodied and grinning and magnificent. She hears Masamune in her heart, is he the one? And she thinks yes, he's made he strong. He's my meister.
He holds his arms out to her, and Tsubaki goes to him.
This is how they work: with long periods of mediation and answering homework questions while doing push-ups. Resonating and then soul resonating. The days grow long and the nights grow longer, and soon it isn't about making her a Death Scythe, it is making them better and stronger, leading him away from the path his father took and making his own. It is her realising she is better than people's expectations of her, she is more than a scentless flower and more than a loyal friend.
It is her knowing when he is drained and exhausted and tired with the world in general; she comforts him with his favorite food and an Epson salt bath, with Fast and Furious movies and hand massages, her fingers pressing down on battered and bruised knuckles.
It is Black Star giving her space and cleaning up after himself when nights are too long and her brother's voice is too loud in her mind. It is the soft feeling of fingers tracing the black lines that appear after awful nightmares, or Black Star telling her to rest, turning on the awful TV shows she likes and enduring Keeping up with the Kardashians.
They learn each other's motions—the way his fingers twitch compulsively when he is annoyed, or how her shoulders go taut when she is angry. They learn to speak through glances and gestures.
From anyone looking in from the outside, they are an unconventional pair—a hyper active brat with a god-complex and a shy girl who looks like she couldn't fight her way out of a paper bag—but their friends know, they know, that there is more to it than that.
This is how they fall in love: restless nights lying beside each other in a bed that feels miles long and too small all at once, patching up cuts and scrapes and feeling eyes move over unblemished skin. Resonating and knowing each other inside and out. Watching her go on dates with stupid boys and holding back his anger when they kiss her—watching his pupils turn into stars and standing her ground when he turns on her, breath uneven and gaze uncomprehending.
They fall in stages; he is strong and wonderful and she loves him but is not in love with him. She is strong and magnificent and his only equal and Black Star would die for her in an instant and he thinks that means he's in love with her. He thinks that is what love is.
And it is, only "—love is knowing when someone needs space," Tsubaki says, flushed and scared and unsure, and Black Star's hands clench into fists, his lips burning, but not pleasantly as they had when they'd kissed, "love is knowing how to wait."
So he waits and endures and pretends like her leaving to go home for the summer isn't ripping him a part, pretends like he can feel her soul beside his at night and not thousands of miles away on the other side of the world. Pretends like listening to her voice over the phone doesn't make him ache, or that his friends' gazes don't make him burn with embarrassment and anger. Because surely Maka knows why Tsubaki ran off, and so Soul must know. He knows Liz suspects something and Patti gives him these looks like he should be doing something about it and—
She needs space, right?
But he can't fight properly, can't think right or eat right or do anything right and he wonders if this is what depression is, if this is why Maka takes him to dinner on Thursdays and Soul takes him drinking on Saturdays. He wonders when he got pathetic and vows to change—starts training Angela to fight and self-control because Kim says she'll need it, starts taking more missions and centering himself and learns how to cover the hurt in his voice when he talks to Tsubaki on the phone. Because love is waiting and Black Star is good at everything, so he'll be great at waiting.
(he thinks it's not fair that she's making him wait, thinks it's selfish of her to run away, thinks he should have known better)
And then there she is one day, nose pressed to the ground as she bows to him, shoulders shaking, saying, "I'm sorry," and "please forgive me," and "I'm ready now," and "can I come home?"
He almost wants to say no. Instead, he tells her that she doesn't have to bow to him and that she should stand up, and when she does he kisses the fuck out of her, then tells her in no uncertain terms to never leave again.
"Okay," Tsubaki promises, eyes glittering like a thousand stars. "Okay."
This is how they break.
A witch who has a vendetta against the Nakatsukasa and Star Clan breaks the treaty and pulls the demon out of Black Star, ruining everything they've built. All restraint is gone with a few simple words spoken in garbled Latin, and even after Maka slices the witch in two, Black Star is still radiating power and hatred and thirst like never before. Tsubaki watches his shoulders heave, watches his eyes turn from green to black to stars, watches the grin crawl up his mouth—sharp and the same one in the picture she'd found in his drawer years ago, of a clan that wasn't human.
She is bleeding and thinks her knee is very badly messed up right now, but she is standing regardless because she won't let him kill their friends. She will take care of this because he is hers to protect, to save.
He laughs and darts forward, his hand wrapping tight around her throat before she can even blink. He is lifting her off her feet even though he is barely taller than her, hissing words at her like pretty soul, but doesn't seem to recognize her, and she remembers Nygus speaking very quietly a million years ago, there were some days White Star didn't recognize her.
He is going to kill me, Tsubaki thinks, vision blackening in the corners, wheezing for breath that won't come. Maka and Kid are yelling somewhere. He's going to hate himself.
She turns into her weapon form and surprise flitters across his face as he drops her, but she is already human and sweeping his legs out from beneath him, holding her chain scythe in her hand. She reaches out with her soul to try and draw him back to her, but there is nothing familiar there, not even a little.
Fight, she begs him, fighting with the best of her abilities. Her knee feels like it might just fall from her body, no matter how ridiculous it sounds, and in her head Masamune tells her, it is not as easy as you would think to turn away from the demon.
She doesn't care—he's not like her brother, no Black Star is stronger than that. If anyone can beat this it is him and only him—she'll help in any way she can, but she will not let him kill anyone.
An idea strikes her just as he lunges for her, and before Tsubaki can change her mind she allows him to drive his hand through her chest, and with her left arm she hugs him to her. With her right, she stabs him through the middle.
I need him close to do this, she reminds herself, trying to concentrate beyond the awful pain radiating throughout her middle. He howls and thrashes around, the hand not buried in her chest ripping into the skin of her hip as he tries to get purchase. Breathe, she commands herself. You can do this. You're strong.
They resonate, and it is either the most powerful or the worst; Tsubaki can't really decide. Pain flares up everywhere before she is suddenly standing on water and there is nothing but an echo of pain and dark, boiling water lapping at her ankles.
Several yards away, stands her meister.
He seems to be struggling, clutching his head and stumbling around. The black water creeps up his legs and over slim hips, up over his chest. It's not black blood, she knows, but something worse. Something even more sinister.
(this is part of his soul)
Tsubaki stands, struggling through the thickening mixture at her feet. He's crying now, loud, heaving sobs that sound painful and Tsubaki moves that much faster. This is the root of the problem. This is where she is needed. "I'm here," she calls out, her voice almost lost in the vastness of her soul. Almost, but not completely, it seems. Black Star turns to her so abruptly that she hears something crack in his neck, and then the noises begin anew, only this time he is begging her to run. "I'm not leaving you," she promises, only a few feet away now.
He reeks of death and anger and fear, and Tsubaki only allows a moment of hesitation before she reaches out for him, grabbing his arm. He reels back and the blackness begins to crawl up her arm, but she doesn't let go. "Let me help you, Black Star. Please."
"You'll die," he yells at her, trying to take his arm back, but it's no use, he's moving toward her. "We'll both die! Don't do this, please don't do this!"
You have to fight it, Tsubaki thinks, unable to speak because if she does she might scream. The darkness is burning and leaves an acrid taste in her mouth, and when she breathes through her nose, she smells blood. Think of everything we've been through. This is nothing, right?
"You're wrong," Black Star disagrees, close enough to kiss now. The darkness has crawled up half his face, turned his eye black as pitch. "This is my heritage."
Only if you let it be, Tsubaki says, darkness in her throat and nose and eyes. Don't let us die like this. The great Black Star deserves a better death than this.
"You deserve better than this."
Despite the fact that she can't see, Tsubaki still closes her eyes against the onslaught of emotions. He sounds so broken, so sure, and it breaks her heart. She thought that resonating would help bring him back to himself, but it hasn't, and she really wishes she didn't have to bring it to this.
You're right, Tsubaki nods, nose brushing against his and burning; it might be bleeding, now, but she doesn't know. I deserve more than a Star Clan bastard who has done nothing but make my life miserable.
He makes a noise in the back of his throat that sounds like he's choking. Maybe he is. Or are you even Star Clan? They were unbeatable, not even human and they would have never let something like this ruin them. I thought you were a god? Isn't that what you're always preaching? You don't look like one, now. You look like a scared little boy, and when I die I'll be so grateful to be away from you.
You're a monster, she continues, feeling his fear and his anger and his fight starting up anew. Somewhere, distantly, she feels his hand inside her chest moving. You're just like your father.
"NO!" He's yelling, over and over again in her face. Tsubaki feels the darkness starting to shudder, pull away from her mouth and away from her eyes. Tsubaki blinks and sees the water around Black Star turning as clear as the day she defeated her brother. He's got her by her upper arms and he's shaking her, only this time it's not anger radiating through him, but desperation.
She realizes almost numbly that he's screaming no at the darkness still on her, at the hole that has slowly started to expand across her chest. He looks panicked, desperate. He looks terrified.
Tsubaki smiles at him.
This is how they heal: eight weeks, seven hours, thirty-four minutes, and a handful of seconds in the hospital. Black Star heals in three weeks and sits at her bedside every chance he gets, because he's the reason she's in there in the first place.
(tsubaki will tell him that he's not, that she doesn't blame him, but it's different when someone tells you they don't blame you but you blame yourself)
Her chest is a mess of bandages that sometimes still bleed or leak other fluids that Kim and Nygus refuse to tell him the name of. She hasn't opened her eyes since the first day and Stein tells him that this is her way of healing, that she'll wake up when she's ready. Black Star wishes she didn't have to be ready, but there isn't any point in wishing things that won't come true.
He trains his mind along with his body, tries to build up whatever muscle he'd lost lying in that hospital bed and does not forget the feeling of her blade in his guts, because it's motivation to never let anything like that happen again. Stein teaches him to keep his monsters at bay.
Maka tells him one day, watching him from the doorway of Tsubaki's room that if he hasn't already, maybe he should try talking to her?
"Sometimes," she murmurs, picking at the fingertips of her gloves. "Sometimes when Soul is hurt we resonate. It's like…like breathing, it's so easy. You should try that, too."
Black Star ignores her, but later that night he tries it, tightening both his hands around hers and bringing it to his forehead. He concentrates the same way he would when they would do it during a fight, but all he gets is a momentary flicker of her soul scape—a great, vast sea as blue as his hair, and a flash of black in his peripheral.
It's enough.
She wakes up four weeks after the incident, meshing her fingers with his, jolting him awake. He blinks sleepily at her, she smiles warmly. Says, "I'm so glad you're okay," and he says, "I'm sorry. I love you."
Her hand tightens around his, and if the two of them cry, there is no one around to tell.
This is how they move on.
Tsubaki goes to rehab three times a week for four months for her knee, because she'd not only twisted the muscles around it, but broken it as well. Black Star tries to be at every single session, and they resonate every night without fail, because they refuse to let something like that ever happen again.
(black star buys kim two passes to the best salon and spa in Vegas, to thank her for saving tsubaki's life. kim tells him it's no problem, but if he ever does it again, she'll fucking kill him)
Black Star does solo missions for what seems like forever before Stein clears Tsubaki for active duty again, and the first time they resonate while fighting is the most euphoric thing they've ever done, and after they've killed the pre-kishin and Tsubaki has the soul, they fuck against the wall of the alley, both breathless and high off the fight.
It is almost like his episode all those months ago never happened, and for that they are both eternally grateful. Still, some nights he'll wake up shaking and sweating, and she'll wake up with the ghost of a hand through her chest. But they have each other in those moments, and their fear often does not last long.
This is how they live: through fast fights and even faster victories; through life and death and near-misses.
Black Star and Tsubaki become something of a legend at the Academy, and around the world they are known as one of the fiercest teams. He tries to erase the stains his clan left on the world, and she tries to make their mark.
(when they enter a village one day and black star is praised for being star clan, tsubaki figures they've done well)
This is how they end: a woman with a purpose, a man with a destiny as wide and bright as the horizon; there is no longer any 'ifs' about him becoming a god, and she has bloomed into her own person, someone who can be proud of herself and her partner.
He calls her his goddess, shouts it to the academy students who don't know any better and witches who already do and pre-kishin who will find out. Just the weapon for a god like me, he sings her praises.
Tsubaki's father and mother approve of him with small nods and fierce pride, and when he asks her to marry him, all straight-faced seriousness, her heart stops momentarily in her chest. The night air around them is still and cool, their fire crackling low and above them, the sky is vast and endless.
She smiles at him, eyes reflecting the stars.