Hellooooooo! :3 Welcome to Spun by the Moon, my submission for Resbang 2016! I had the opportunity to work with an amazing and incredibly kind and talented artist, Aquabella888, who has created some amazing pieces to go with this story, so please go check out her art - I'll post a link in my profile when it pops up later today!
Some content warnings for ya: This story contains explicit sexual content, canon-typical violence/shenanigans, alcohol use, a very brief drug mention and, if you know me at all: language.
This story has been my and Bella's baby for the past six months. It has my whole heart. So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy~
The sun filtered through the gaps in the pine trees, highlighting the dust streams that floated fairy-light on the breeze. Between the trees, a sea of cabins peppered the forest in black and white dots. In the distance was a stately gate, gray and stark against the trees, with familiar words moving in an arch over its crest.
Camp Crescent Moon, the sign said, and the sight of it brought a rush of warm nostalgia. Suddenly, it was back to the scenes and scents of campfires past; back to that sweet promise of the lazy, languid days of summer.
Basking in the wistful glow that only a beautifully familiar place can evoke, Maka Albarn slowly made her way to the camp gates, duffel bag in hand, sneakers scuffing the dirt path as she walked. She was taking her time, pausing to savor the sight of the massive skull-shaped pillars adorning the sides of the gates.
She gazed appreciatively at the imposing torches that jutted out beneath the skulls. It was comforting that they were always lit.
...Well, looked lit, nowadays. The camp director was probably not interested in a repeat of the lawsuits and general distress associated with nearly burning down camp via aesthetic torchlight. During Maka's first summer, Black*Star had decided to climb one of the torches and sent it hurtling to the ground, igniting the tennis courts – and Kid's symmetry-fueled wrath – in one fell swoop. Real or not, it was more than likely that they were now lighting the way towards another summer of mayhem.
Maka reveled in the quiet closeness she felt for this magical place, and for the amazing dysfunctional home she had found here. It was a bit strange, she thought, that a place where she only spent three months of the year could be considered a home. But a home it was, with her boundless love for the lake and the campers, despite the difficulties and the downright outrageous unpredictability – normally in the form of one blue-haired loudmouth.
As she finally passed under the sign, footsteps sounded on the drive behind her.
"Tsubaki!" she said excitedly. Their duffel bags hit the ground with a thud as her co-counselor wrapped her in a warm hug.
"Did you have a good year, Maka?" came a kind and quiet voice from the depths of Maka's shoulder.
"It was fine," Maka hedged, noncommittal. "But—"
"It's good to be back," Tsubaki said with a nod, smiling at Maka as they picked up their bags and began the trek to their cabin.
They chatted as they made their way past the dining hall and the stables, taking in the familiar surroundings as they walked. Finally, a giant and jauntily scribbled number 13 greeted them with time-worn warmth on their cabin door.
Tsubaki squinted at the peeling yellow paint on the door. "Sometimes I forget how old camp is," she said, pushing it open with a creak.
"Well, Lord Death founded it forever ago, right?" Maka said as she tossed her things onto a bed. "He wanted to make sure that the values of camping would always be protected. And it makes sense – it's so nice to get away, to be part of a tradition—"
"Speaking of traditions," Tsubaki said slyly, eyeing her friend. "Are you planning on trying for any… leadership positions this summer?"
Maka's eyes narrowed. "You know we aren't supposed to talk abou—"
"Oh, Maka," Tsubaki said, ever the appeaser. "I know, but the kids aren't even here yet, and… I really think you'd be great for it."
Despite herself, Maka smiled a little.
"We'll have to see how the vote goes," she said, before her face morphed into a mask of mock fury.
"Wait a second… you're on the other team!" she yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Tsubaki.
"You've been conversing with the enemy!" Tsubaki said proudly, giggling to herself.
Maka kneeled and tossed a pillow at Tsubaki's face, though it lacked the force to do any real damage since she was laughing so hard. Tsubaki ducked, picked it up, and just as she was about to swing it back, a familiar voice rang out over the loudspeakers.
"Fools!" it declared, the speakers relaying the voice's crackly demands. "All counselors must report to the counselor house at once - or you'll miss afternoon tea and other refreshments! Don't be late!"
The two of them grinned at each other excitedly and ran outside, leaving their duffels abandoned on the cabin floor. The cabin door clanged shut on its springs with an impatient bang and as they left, the first rays of summer sun beat down on their backs.
Although the campers' cabins were scattered haphazardly throughout the forest, the staff building loomed, tall and stately, near the top of a hill on the eastern side of the grounds. Just beyond it, they could see the doctor's cabin; the counselors had always called it "The Stitch," no doubt named for camp's infamous longtime doctor who had a disturbing knack for poking his needles into places they didn't belong.
The two of them climbed the hill, slightly out of breath by the time that they got to the cabin door. The door was open, and the sounds of a hundred counselors milling about inside the hall met their ears as the two of them crossed the threshold, leaning against the wall to catch their breath for a moment before entering the fray.
Eventually the two of them headed over to a water table in the corner. As was the case every year, despite the loudspeaker's lofty promises of tea, there was none to be found.
In the crowd, she caught sight of a black and white mop of hair between two blonde ones.
"Maka, Tsubaki," came a courteous voice from the most high-strung of the mops, and they waved as Kid came into view.
"Hi, you three," Tsubaki said happily, grabbing a cup of water from the table and sipping at it.
"Good year?" Liz asked, tipping her signature cowboy hat to the two of them.
"Fine, fine," Maka said. "How are our favorite sisters? … And our favorite director's son?" she added with a nod at Kid.
"Pumped for summer!" Patty yelled, pumping her fist into the air. "All three of us get to work in the Art Center this year, don't we sis?"
Maka and Tsubaki exchanged a loaded look, wondering how exactly it was that Kid had managed to finagle his way into working yet another year as an art counselor, considering it took him four hours to wind up one ball of yarn.
This was an especially mysterious placement after last summer, when they'd had to shut down the entire center for the day after Kid had insisted on re-sculpting all of the campers' pottery to his own symmetrical specifications. She was pretty sure that they'd set the record for tear-stained faces on that day - not including Kid himself, who'd produced an impressive amount of waterworks on his own.
Clearly itching to change the subject, Liz grabbed her own water and pointed at the two of them.
"Where are you two working this summer?" she asked, tossing back another cup.
"I'm at the waterfront," Maka said, pulling a lifejacket out of her backpack. Kid raised an eyebrow at the lifejacket in her hand and she blanched; she knew she didn't have to carry the thing everywhere, but who knew when she might need it? It was her job to set the example when it came to safety, obviously.
"Back at the stables!" said Tsubaki. "But they've also got me wandering around doing random tasks on one of the days," she said, her smile faltering a little.
"Hey, that's an honor!" Maka said, and Patty nodded her head vigorously in agreement. "They only pick someone who's really dependable for that job. They know they can ask you to do anything and they know you'll get it done."
"I guess you're right," Tsubaki sighed, not looking convinced.
"Yeah, can you imagine if they gave that to Black*Star?" Liz said with a laugh.
Tsubaki smiled at that, and did actually seem to be comforted. Leave it to Black*Star to somehow bolster everyone's spirits by being completely and utterly irresponsible.
"Where is he, anyway?" Maka asked, and the group gave a collective shrug. She cast her eyes over the rest of the room, searching out the other returning counselors. There were so many faces she knew; she spotted Harvar, then Jackie, then Ox (she noted with a scowl), and it amazed her, how many of them came back year after year.
There were new faces, too. She noted one shy-looking individual in particular with a cotton-candy pink head of hair, crouched in a corner adjacent to theirs, holding a backpack with two big Xs stretching over the back pockets. She made a note to talk with them later – they looked like they could use a friend, and she was well-known for lending a hand or two in that department.
Either way, it was immediately clear that Black*Star wasn't there yet; even over the din of the room, she knew she'd be able to pick out his distinctive ear-throbbing voice anywhere. Just as she'd started to question his absence, all of the lights in the room shut off with a snap, and her face erupted into a smile of its own accord.
At the front of the room, raised up on a dais, was a tiny stage with a slowly brightening spotlight. Everyone dropped down, taking a seat on the floor.
"Hey, Hiya, Hello!" said an exuberant voice, disembodied for the moment but distinctive nonetheless. She took a moment to close her eyes, taking in the excitement and the tension of the moment, and when she opened them again, the masked man himself stood before them in all of his mysterious glory.
"Welcome to our beloved Camp Crescent Moon," he said, ghoulish face bobbing up and down as he nodded with excitement. "Another summer of fun, new experiences and change awaits. But like every summer, I want to remind you all of why you're here. Why children come back, summer after summer, and what you, as the elite group of counselors that you are, are expected to exemplify. Every new summer, and each summer that has preceded it, begins with the same story. Are you ready to hear it?"
There came a flutter of nods from all of the counselors; even those that had been there the longest were restless, excited to hear the tale retold another time.
"Many years ago, the world was full of people who talked, and played, and spent time with their fellow human beings," their masked narrator began, stepping to the side of the stage to make room for the tale that was about to take form. "For better or for worse, people laughed with one another, fought with one another, coexisted with one another."
There was a smattering of laughter as two camp nurses, one with white bands wrapped around her head like a turban, and the other with tattoos snaking up her arms, hopped on stage and proceeded to act out the director's words. It seemed they were taking care to over-dramatize the fighting, as the first nurse smashed into the ground after a particularly impressive kick from the second.
"People knew how to communicate with one another, how to engage," he continued. "But over time, things started to shift. It started with the radio, then television, and as the hypnotic pull of technology began to take root, we started to forget about the natural beauty surrounding us."
Suddenly, a giant white sheet burst out of the ceiling, cascading to the ground and creating a giant screen that stretched to the floor. As a light appeared behind it, it illuminated two figures hunched over the silhouette of a television set, as sounds of children playing in the distance echoed behind them.
"Technology began to cause rifts within humanity, and a change in our mindsets – like the whispers of madness – began to take shape as selfishness and narcissism descended upon our minds."
At this, the loudspeakers sputtered on. White noise filled the room with an unsettling rustling as a hunched figure appeared behind the sheet. It hobbled its way into the center of the frame, dragging an office chair in its wake.
"Seeking knowledge is a beautiful thing, but sometimes it can… do things to you."
The figure looked up for the first time, spine curling up slowly until it stood unsettlingly straight. Its ominous form regarded the audience curiously, as if it had just realized they were there. After a moment, it reached up to slowly twist something on its head, and the clicking elicited a cringe from the entire group.
"People were losing sight of the most meaningful part of the human experience: true bonds of brotherhood among their fellow mortals."
Another figure materialized behind the sheet. This one was taller and bulkier than the first, and it dragged its feet like a zombie as it approached its eerily silent comrade. But then suddenly they both stopped, and pulled out what looked like cell phones.
They each stared down at their phone for several seconds, and then their necks snapped upward. All of the lights were cut, plunging the room into darkness. Through the sheet, their eyes burned a deep, demonic red.
"Holy-," Liz whispered loudly, her hand shaking as it gripped Patty's arm. That was a new addition to the skit.
"But what if," the narrator continued, voice slicing through the darkness. "There were an escape from the chaos?"
The light behind the sheet shuttered back on, and the screw-headed figure suddenly dropped the phone with a clatter, hunching over and letting out a guttural scream. Liz literally jumped out of her seat at this, but Patty, being well-practiced in the art of keeping Liz on this plane of existence, threw her arms around her to restrain her.
The second figure turned, and began to approach the screaming man as the narrator said:
"What if there were a place where we could take steps into the past, into a world where goodness, and empathy and simple human interaction protected our souls from this corruption?"
When the two figures reached each other, one placed a hand on its distressed comrade's shoulder and bowed its head. As the somber stillness of the scene hung in the air, the light behind the sheet faded to black. The narrator's face reappeared against the darkness, black eye sockets boring into the crowd.
"Perhaps it's impossible to escape the madness completely, but for a time, this is what we hope to achieve."
The director took center stage again, walking stoically, looking deadly serious – a pretty incredible feat for a faceless man.
"I suppose this isn't your typical summer camp," he said, holding his hands out as if he wanted to be perfectly clear in this admission. "This is a camp that exists to protect and preserve peace – peace between all of you, and peace within yourselves. That's how we keep the madness at bay."
The crowd rustled with uncertainty, unsure of whether to applaud or to let the final words of the story echo in their heads. All Maka could clearly hear was the tap-tap of the director's footsteps as he paced to the side of the stage.
Finally, the spell was broken when Kid started a loud slow clap, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as everyone else joined in.
"I still think it's a melodramatic way to say 'turn off your phones', but whatever works," he said bemusedly through the applause. Liz eyed him with strained amusement, clearly wondering how Kid, of all people, was complaining about melodrama.
Maka was about to step in to fend off that budding argument when the director's voice rang out onstage again, causing the group to fall silent once more.
"Thank you for your attention, and I hope that you'll find this summer as enjoyable as all of the summers before it!" he said enthusiastically. "Now, if you'll give us a few more minutes of your time, I'd like to introduce our adminis–"
Before he had time to finish, the door at the back of the room burst open, accompanied by a head of blue hair so unmistakable that every single returning counselor let out a little groan.
"Hey, everybody! Are we late to the party?!" Black*Star exclaimed with such assumed superiority that even the director's shoulders seem to sag in exasperation. As he stepped further into the room, she rolled her eyes. She'd forgotten about that damn shirt.
Forever dissatisfied with the polo shirts they had to wear for counselor duties, he'd commissioned himself a muscle shirt instead, successfully freeing his biceps from the confines of traditional camp attire. Thank goodness he never went on trips. She couldn't take him anywhere.
As the entire room continued to stare at him in silence, he let out a booming laugh.
"This is perfect, it means that you all get a proper introduction! I'm the great Black*Star, the biggest–"
He continued his monologue but, as insurmountable of a task as it was, Maka was managing to tune him out. It struck her as a bit odd that he'd said "we", as he seemed to be the only one that had entered the room. Unless he'd taken to referring to himself in the plural (which wouldn't be completely unexpected, as he definitely had enough personality for two, maybe even three people), she wondered who else had come with him. There wasn't anyone else missing from the previous summer's counselors, as far as she could see. But who else would he have toted along?
As she looked more closely, however, there did seem to be someone else there with Black*Star. In the frame of the door, despite the dimness of the lighting in the room, she could barely make out a rather… well, slouchy outline, leaning against the wall outside.
She was about to whisper something to Tsubaki as the end of Black*Star's Salient Speech of Self-Importance was coming to an end ("and lastly, if you know of anyone that likes getting their ass beat to a pulp in basketball, feel free to send them my way, HA!"), but then the shadow in the door stirred, and brought its slouch out of the darkness of the hallway and into the world of the living.
"OH RIGHT," Black*Star said, waving his arm in the newcomer's general direction. "This is Soul, the most badass and chill of all of my followers, so say hi to him when you have a chance."
Soul, despite this rumored status of "most badass and chill," definitely didn't look like either of those things at the moment; in fact, he looked like he'd rather fade into the drywall behind him and disappear than be referred to as such. Maka's mouth quirked sympathetically.
Finally, what felt like hours too late, the director cleared his throat and Black*Star seemed to regain some semblance of control over himself. He caught Kid's eye and gave an exuberant wave, dragging his seemingly less than enthusiastic friend along to sit beside them.
As they settled in, the director began again. "As I was saying… I wanted to introduce the administrative staff this year. Once upon a time, they called me Lord Death, but there's really no need to be as regal as all of that! You can simply call me Director, if you please!"
"Lord Death?" someone behind them whispered loudly. "Did he go through like, a goth phase or something?"
Kid pinched the bridge of his nose. "Everyone's a comedian," he said with a sigh. Maka looked over at him, trying not to laugh. They couldn't help their curiosity, she knew, but every summer the new counselors' theories about Kid's dad's nickname spawned a special kind of disdain in him.
"Next, I'd like to introduce our assistant director, S-"
Maka sighed as the lanky, red-haired face of her father jutted out from behind the curtains, cutting off the director's words with a hiss.
"Don't call me Spirit! They should only know me as Assistant Director! If all of these disgraceful males know my real name, they won't respect me! And then I'll never be able to protect my little girl."
"Like anybody respects you anyway," Maka muttered.
Spirit stepped out from behind the curtain with a flourish, whipping it behind him like a cape.
"Where's Maka?" he demanded, putting his hand up to his eyes and gazing into the crowd. "Where's my darling daughter?"
Maka sat very still, trying to ignore all of the heads that were turning in her direction.
"There she is!" he exclaimed, so overcome with emotion that he physically jumped into the air. "Daddy loves you, Maka! And if any of you pigs try to lay a hand on her-"
"The assistant director, everybody!" Death exclaimed, cutting Spirit off, much to Maka's relief. "You know, I think that's enough for now. Let me give you a few more announcements, and then let's go ahead and grab lunch!"
As they listened to the instructions, Maka's eye kept sliding over to her left, where Black*Star and this new guy were sitting. She was always looking for an opportunity to talk to the new counselors, and anyone that hung around with Black*Star could certainly be a friend of hers, right?
When the announcements finally ended, she took a deep breath and fell into step next to the two of them.
"Hey Maka," Black*Star said, nodding at her. "Didn't you love our entrance? We were the center of attention, weren't we?"
"You sure were, Black*Star," she said, rolling her eyes, but she was in too good of a mood to really be bothered by his exuberance. As they passed through the door, she leaned a little in front and waved at Soul, who was walking in silence beside Black*Star.
"Hey there, I just wanted to introduce myself," she said. "I'm Maka."
"Uh… yeah, I know," he said, looking at the ground, and she stilled for a moment, wondering how he knew this, before his face pulled into a smirk. "Your old man gave you a pretty good introduction."
Maka flushed a little, the snark taking her by surprise. Black*Star, on the other hand, let out a hearty laugh.
"Yeah, Spirit's a pretty funny guy," he said. "He's a shit director though."
"He's basically a glorified secretary," Liz said from behind them.
"…And make sure you stay away from his little girl," Black*Star added. He winked and gave Maka a conspiratorial thumbs-up, as if she were somehow benefitting from her father's quest to keep her in a constant state of nun-hood.
Soul looked up at her the first time – really looked at her. When he met her gaze, she was caught off guard by deep, strange red eyes, and she could sense herself mentally squirming under his scrutiny. Never one to be intimidated, she stared back at him with double the vigor.
"... I'll manage somehow," he finally said expressionlessly, looking back at the ground.
Well! What the hell was his problem? she thought, still staring at him. Black*Star glanced at her and shrugged.
"Well," she continued, deciding she didn't need to decipher that comment until later. "If you ever need anyone to show you around, or need help with one of your campers or something, just let me know. I know this place like the back of my hand."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said dryly, but she could sense the insincerity that leaked from his words.
When they entered, Black*Star immediately spotted some of his basketball counselor buddies from the previous year and jetted off to sit with them. Maka had assumed that Soul would go with him, but he just stood there, so she was left to fend for herself with her inexplicably surly companion.
"So…" she said, as they went to a table and grabbed chairs, sliding them away from the table. "This is the cafeteria. The food's okay, but-"
"Look, I appreciate the whole 'lost puppy' routine you've got going on here," he said, cutting her off and stifling what looked like a very on-purpose yawn. "But I was a camper here for six years. I don't need your help."
He leaned back onto his chair, putting on a mask of lazy confidence, and finally, everything about the way he was acting made sense.
A former camper. She should have known.
The thing of it was, the kids that came here were pretty amazing – at least for the most part. But Crescent Moon wasn't the cheapest camp on this side of Death City, and over the years, the counselors had taken the term 'former camper' to be synonymous with 'rich.' Often 'spoiled' and 'entitled' worked their way in, for the more serious cases.
It wasn't fair to the kids, that was true… but occasionally there was a bad egg that brought every single stereotype back to life, and right now something smelled rotten.
She scowled at him, annoyed by the haughtiness he was displaying, and she didn't miss that he was surveying her with similar distaste.
"Just because you went to camp here doesn't mean you own this place," she said to him stiffly.
He almost looked a little hurt, for a second, but then he scowled, leaning back towards her and putting his hands on the table.
"Listen, smarty pants, I know secrets about this place you couldn't even dream of," he retorted, voice low and defensive.
She was taken aback by this, but soon her mouth curled into a savage grin, confident in her comeback.
"But you don't know the secrets that counselors know," she said, eyes glinting.
Before he could sputter out a response, someone who greatly resembled a certain bulky sheet silhouette from earlier came sauntering up to them, clutching a lifeguard's rescue tube in his hand.
"All right, I see our two waterfront counselors have already found each other!"
She glanced up to see Sid, the Athletic Director, gazing down at them.
"Sid!" she said, jumping up out of her seat to greet him. Sid nodded at her, and then at Soul.
"It's been a few years since I've seen you," Sid said, a tiny trace of amusement in his voice. "I remember when you-"
"Ah, c'mon Sid, no stories from the Good Ole Days, okay?" Soul said, scratching his head in embarrassment. Maka smiled, despite her annoyance. Maybe she could get a story or two out of Sid later.
"Well, anyway, I'm glad we'll all get to spend so much time together," Sid said.
Maka stopped as the weight of Sid's words sank in. Oh no.
They realized it at the same time, Maka's eyes flitting to Soul's just as he had started to glance at her. Startled by the contact, the two of them looked quickly apart as Maka let out a huff and crossed her arms. Sid looked between the two of them curiously.
"Evidently, the two of you did not know this," he said, his expression morphing from amused to much more stern. "And neither of you seem too happy about it."
She couldn't think of anything to say to that, and apparently neither could Soul, so they both just stared at the ground in silence.
"You know, back when I was only running the basketball program, I would have told you to just keep to yourselves and help the kids on your own," he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "That's the kind of man I was."
Maka let out a relieved sigh, happy that maybe she wouldn't be dealing with Soul as much as she'd thought.
"…But now, I'm the athletic director," Sid continued. "So too bad. Work out whatever it is you have going on, because this summer, you guys will be working as a team. No excuses."
Then he stalked away, leaving Soul and Maka to deal with the proverbial anvil he'd just dumped on their heads.
She wished she could say that their relationship improved throughout the day, but later in the afternoon, at the lake, their attitudes toward each other took another nosedive.
"Hey Tiny Tits, wanna pass me that rope?" Soul said, looking down at the inside of the boat and holding his hand out.
She'd been getting ready to pass it to him anyway, but suddenly her hand stilled, stopping before she could hand it to him.
"What the hell did you just call me?" she asked, crossing her arms unconsciously over her chest.
Soul stopped and looked up at her, instantly guilty. "Uhhhh–"
She glared at him for a moment and then, with a whip of her hand, the rope came crashing down onto his head with a whack. He let out a girlish scream that would've made Liz very, very proud. Maka smiled innocently, surveying the damage with pride as she twirled a pigtail around her finger.
"Guh," he said, rubbing his head. "Okay, I get it. No more nicknames."
"Thank you," she said sweetly, reaching down and coiling up the next rope. Perhaps the boy could be trained after all.
By the end of the day, she was exhausted. She trudged back to her cabin, eyelids drooping as she pushed the door of the cabin open. Tsubaki sat at the foot of her bed as Maka came in.
"You're back late," she said, her forehead creasing in concern. "Everything go okay at the lake?"
"Other than being stuck with the world's biggest moron, it was fine," Maka said, throwing herself onto her bed. She immediately regretted it: the mattresses weren't thick, and she could feel her knees knocking against the hard wood of the bed frame.
"Who…?" Tsubaki began, grabbing her pillow and scooting back to the front of the bed.
"Black*Star's stupid friend," she said. "Soul."
She tried and failed not to scowl as she said his name. Even his name was stupid. She didn't understand why he was such an ass. She recounted the day's events to Tsubaki, who was shaking her head by the end of it.
"Sounds to me like you shouldn't worry about him," she said. "He's an idiot for not being nice to you."
"...Yeah," Maka said glumly.
Having no further response to Tsubaki's words, Maka flipped onto her back and looked at the ceiling in silence. She wouldn't let him bother her now. Night was falling. It was her favorite time of the day, and she smiled slightly as the first sounds of the evening began to creep towards the cabin.
There were crickets, certainly. Fireflies too – she smiled as tiny yellow orbs began to make their phosphorescent debut along her windowsill. She'd always thought it strange that you couldn't hear fireflies. Maka imagined that if they did make a sound, they'd be something like the sound of a wind chime. Or maybe, she silently amended, the sounds a wind chime would make if it could whisper.
Tsubaki got up quietly and moved over to Maka's bed, and they sat and listened to the forest together. The moon, which was nearly full, leered down upon them them through the sea of tiny crescent-shaped cracks in the roof for which camp had been named.
It had always seemed like magic to her. No matter what the moon was doing outside, the moon was always a crescent inside the cabin. Unchanging, dependable, and beautiful. Just the way she liked things.
"It's so quiet without the campers here," Maka said, clutching her pillow tightly. Tsubaki nodded.
"Only one more week," Tsubaki whispered back.
If she could make it through the next seven days alive, she'd get to see them. Hopefully this unexpected new partnership at the lake wouldn't be the end of her just yet.