I finally got around to watching the anime and it's not bad. I mean, I'm frustrated by how all the kids keep going, "Is this what adults do?" because (1) I'm sorry kiddies but the world can't always go perfectly and (2) SAY SOMETHING DIFFERENT PLZ. Also I'm wondering just WHY Bones is letting Shinigami seem as strategic challenged. 800 plus years of experience constitutes idiocy in the anime world? I mean, send a bunch of unneeded fighters out in unknown territory and die? This isn't World War One people! This isn't trench warfare where the generals basically were bumbling idiots and sent a bunch of young mindless boys out and explode.
Well, I'm done with rambling. I'm one of those kids who think kids are too arrogant. We teens are getting smarter, but at the same time more arrogant, which really frustrates me.
I don't feel like making with A/N any longer than it should be so I'm skipping the usual heading…thing…yeah.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the shirt on my back. Whether I'm wearing anything else is up to you.
(SE)
In a way, he felt it was his fault.
Or course it wasn't exactly his fault for what was happening.
Yet, he still felt that his long absences did something to instigate these unfavorable series of events.
Crona was stuck in that room, alone, accused of betraying Death City.
How stupid it was for him to not even be there for a good friend. He could have been Maka, standing in front of that metal door everyday despite all mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion.
But he had a more important job. All of those jobs. Eibon, his father, all these questions.
He had a more important job to do, and Crona could wait…
Is…what he hoped to be the truth.
His feet led him there that was all. There was no lingering, no longing. It was just his feet, his shoes; the ground was pulling him there.
His nose met the big tall heavy metal door. Fingers lingered on the cold gray smooth surface. His feet shuffled, he cleared his throat, he clenched his hand in a loose fist and gently knocked the door with his bare knuckles.
The metal resonated and rapped with each tap. A hollow and empty sound.
"Maka?" A meek voice followed.
From the other side, he could hear gentle shuffling to the door. Crona was sliding from Mr. Corner to the door, hands probably pressed to the same cold door. It was the only thing separating them.
"No…" Kid replied, unable to say more. It was a simple and removable obstacle, but rules were rules. It was taboo, a rule, conformity he must oblige loyalty to.
"Kid?" Crona's voice echoed through the metal door to his ears.
He could barely hear the softness, and kneeled to the floor where he hoped Crona was. He pressed his hands where he thought Crona's hands would be and pressed his forehead to the door. It was a connection, that door, a separation that forced them to connect without seeing.
"Yes, it's me. I'm sorry." Kid closed his eyes, imagining Crona shuffling closer to the door, maybe turning around and leaning that bony and bent over back to the door.
"Oh…no…it's okay…" Crona whispered, shuffling, moving, doing something.
Kid wanted to see Crona. This door, this simple obstacle was suffocating. He was dieing from a form of asphyxiation, untreatable, unpreventable.
"No, really," He meant it. It was his fault. "I…should have come sooner. I never would have thought that this would happen."
"But…I did do it. I…did put that…" Crona shuffles once more, and more than anything at that moment he wanted to see that downtrodden face.
"I see." And he could say no more.
A long and excruciating silence followed.
Say something, He hissed to himself. Say something, anything! About the sky, the clouds, that stupid sun, symmetry, Maka, Crona's feelings, my feelings—
Kid turned and slammed his back to the metal door. It rattled and shook in its hinges, and sighed as he slid his back down the door until he sat on the ground. His suit, it was probably dirty. The way he looked, probably asymmetrical.
"Kid?"
"I'm still here," he breathed, "I'm still here."
"Where…were you…before…?"
"Chasing something is what I guess you could say." Kid smiled (almost). He imagined himself chasing a wild good and screaming as it turned and snapped at him.
"Oh…I see…" More shuffling. He could imagine Crona bringing in those knobby knees into that flat chest and sighing, as there is nothing to say.
This separation.
This connection.
Which one was dieing? Which one was growing?
Kid could almost feel Crona's back on his. This warmth, this addicting comfort, this lingering longing for something that could probably never come.
He will probably never see Crona.
Never.
Never ever never.
"Kid."
"Yes?"
"I'm leaving." Crona's voice is so strong it's almost painful.
Kid felt as if his lungs collapsed. He was drowning in shock, pain, confusion—just why?
"I…need to see her, Madame Medusa—no—my mother." Crona is breathing so carefully, so calmly.
How?
How?
He could barely see, barely feel, barely anything at all. His fingers were numb and hanging to his side, his feet lopsided and lazy. "W-Wait,"
But there is no hesitation. "I'm going with Ms. Marie. I need to settle this…with my mother."
"…Are you…sure?" What else could he say? Tell Crona to stop, tell Crona to let him come with them? How could he? It was Crona's decision, Crona's destiny.
Kid laid his face in his hands and pressed his eyes deeper into his sockets. His eyes hurt so much that they were watery.
His absence, his absence, his absence, his absence.
Will this always happen when he goes away?
Will they all disappear?
"Don't go," he whispers so quietly that Crona can't hear him. "Don't go, please, don't go."
"Kid?"
"Don't go…"
"I…talked to Shinigami…he said…yes, and Marie even…agreed to come with me…I…need to do this, I really do. Not just for me, but for Maka—Kid? Please…don't tell her."
Don't go. "Come back in one piece."
"Yes…I will."
Don't go. "Good luck."
"Yeah."
You don't have to go, let me handle that snake witch. "D—We'll…I'll be waiting for you. We'll have a party and everything." What the hell was he saying?!
"Yeah…yeah…"
"I'm going now." Please tell me to stay so I can tell you not to go.
"O-Oh…okay…bye, Kid."
"Good-bye, Crona."
The next day, Maka would not even lift her head. Her gaze was glued to the ground as she repeated to everyone and anyone who asked what exactly was wrong with her. "Crona is gone." Was always her reply.
Kid was not around. He was down in front of that door, that door that separated him from Crona just the day before.
He opened that metal door, hearing it groan and moan as he roughly pulled it away from its frame. And inside was…
Nothing.
Sunlight decorated the desolated ground, shaped like the window, glistening and shining upon him.
Teasing him, the sun laughing as it rose higher and higher into the sky.
"I told you not to go." Kid hissed, slamming the door shut with a rough kick. He stalked away like a child, finding a concerned Liz and a quiet Patty and leading them far away from the damn city, from the damn school.
In all that time, he had hoped Crona would have flat out said. "You plus me is bad news. It's done, gone, bye-bye loser."
But Crona is not like that, and Kid would absolutely die if that were said.
Yet, that was how that night felt. Almost like a break up scene straight from a high school drama.
It was disgusting, greasy, slimy and wrong.
"I told you not to go…" Kid absent mindedly whispered.
"Did you say something, Kid?"
"…No…no."
(SE)
Did you see me attempt to add that theme in the end? I wrote this and realized that I made no effort to refer to the theme.
Anyway, yeah, emo fic.
I've wanted to write something more…sentimental. You can interpret the relationship anyway you want. I see it more as friendship in this than love, but it could go either way.