Azusa never found herself to be the kind of woman who hesitated when knocking on her friend's door, but she supposes she can make an exception, considering the circumstance.
She wasn't surprised, after all. Azusa'd known Marie since they were pre-teens: of course she expected for the other woman to chase into her own graveyard in hopes of saving Stein. She wouldn't be Marie if she didn't.
Quitting the DWMA, though, that wasn't nearly as expectant. Everyone who knew Marie knew there was no way she was going to take the news of the search being called off lying down, especially after Spirit let it spill that she was absolutely furious when he told her she had other Death Scythe duties to attend to, that she stood up and yelled at him when he dared imply that Stein wasn't her primary responsibility.
What was that song Marie was so fond of? "Hopelessly Devoted"?
It was telling.
No, they all realized she was going to do something. But they didn't think that something would be marching to Lord Death with the most determined face Azusa'd ever seen to tell him, without even the slightest of stutters, that she was quitting.
Quitting.
Really, it was like Death knew that she was a Death Scythe in name, alone. She wasn't his weapon, not anymore, perhaps not for a long time. Even carrying the name of one of the oldest weapon families in existence, a direct descendant from God's Hammer, it was not in God's hands that she found herself wanting.
She was going to wander back to the palm she truly felt she belonged in, and it was away from the DMWA.
Away from her.
Marie's decision to quit was smart, considering the circumstances: it was the only way they could bypass the deal Lord Death made with Medusa. It was the only hope they had to get Stein back.
Her choice to chase after him in the first place, however, that was stupid.
And it stung.
Her best friend was about to face off against one of the strongest witches the DWMA had ever seen with nothing but Crona. She had no Meister that could wield her, though she could do fine on her own, no genuine battle strategy, no advantage.
No sense of direction.
If Franken "Best Meister to Walk the Halls of the DWMA" Stein and Spirit "Strongest Death Scythe" Albarn weren't enough to defeat that witch…
Of course Azusa was worried.
Marie was the girl who met her, Queen of the Tattletales, whilst lost in the hallways and late by twelve minutes to her class and struck up a friendship anyway. Marie was the girl who packed extra cupcakes to share with her. Marie was the girl Azusa took six days off of work for, the girl who cried miserably on her couch after Joe dumped her, telling Azusa 'I really thought this time…'.
Marie was the girl Azusa held hands with and brought pints of ice-cream to, the girl who told her 'Man, 'Zusa, I should just marry you' and Azusa'd felt something in her chest stutter because she thought so, too.
That was the problem with women like Marie: they never knew when they were giving just enough hope to keep that one-sided flame alive.
Azusa sighed, finally knocking on Marie's door (or was it still Stein's door, despite the fact that he was AWOL? Was it Stein and Marie's door, Stein and Marie's lab, Stein and Marie's home?).
She knows too many people who would say yes. She thinks she would, too.
When Marie answers, she looks worn out, tired, and her cheeks are red, probably from that terrible face slapping habit she got into after boyfriend number 6 told her she got too emotional, and Marie forced her tears down as best she could.
Azusa's eyes, ever-seeing, take note of how her eyepatch looked darker, wet, despite the fact that the tear-duct barely worked since she lost her eye. Azusa refrains from wincing. It must run deep, then, deeper than she wanted to think of, for Marie to cry so harshly. But Marie's face softens when she spots Azusa in her doorway, a single second of gentleness before she frowns slightly.
"If you're here to try to convince me not to go, you're a little late. Nygus already stopped by."
Azusa sighed. Nygus should have known better than to try to convince Marie "More Stubborn than a Mule" Mjolnir not to follow through with whatever was in her head.
"No," Azusa began, tempted to chew her lip but refraining. "I brought you a map," she said, instead, and when she held out the handwritten coordinates, Marie's eyebrows went up before her face broke into the smallest of smiles, something that hadn't happened since Stein's disappearance all those days ago. For the barest of moments, she looked like everything was fine, like they were just about to go on a stroll or that Marie would invite Azusa inside and they'd talk for hours.
But it wasn't any of those situations. Marie's smile turned watery, her beautiful face looking puffy and sad and so relieved that someone was supporting her. Marie had always been a gorgeous woman, warm and gentle, and as she leaned forward, Azusa couldn't help but feel her heart pound harder.
Of course, a kiss wasn't what had happened. Azusa should have known better. Marie had been in love with Stein since middle school. Marie had been in love with Stein for seemingly all her life, doodling hearts with their names, calling herself the "Bride of Franken Stein", baking him cooking for holidays and wishing, every year, that they'd end up under mistletoe together. No, a kiss wasn't what Azusa got from Marie.
But she couldn't help but admit that she had been hopeful before she felt the breath knock out of her when The Pulverizer's arms came around her, the stronger woman's embrace nearly crushing her ribs.
"Thank you," Marie whispered, an entire ocean held in her voice, her cheek coming to Azusa's shoulder, squeezing her slightly harder. "Thank you so much."
Azusa wanted to tell her that just because she was giving her a map didn't mean that she was condoning her actions. It didn't even mean that Azusa cared about what happened to Stein. He made his own damn bed and Marie wouldn't let him lay in it unless she was with him.
Giving Marie that map wasn't an act of support: it just meant that Azusa cared about her more than she cared about her pride.
"Marie… if you get lost, please, you can always call," Azusa told her, almost proud that her voice didn't break. It was familiar when Marie's slapped her on the back, hard enough to pitch her forward if the blonde wasn't already holding her.
The giggle was sweet and genuine, but still heavy. "Don't be mean. I won't get lost."
"I said 'if', and we both know you will," Azusa clarified, already preparing for another harsh smack on her back or shoulders and closing her eyes in anticipation.
When none came, Azusa looked down at the far smaller woman, for once not in heels since she was undoubtedly packing for her trip, and found herself meeting Marie's golden eye dead on, taking in her gentle expression.
"Thank you," Marie told her one more, finally letting go and stepping back enough so that the light from inside the lab was illuminating her.
Marie had always been incandescent: an electric woman with small hands and a big heart. Of course she knew how to paralyze Azusa, how to take her breath away, even if it wasn't intentional. She was…Marie.
She was just amazing like that. Women like her never knew just how amazing they were.
Or, perhaps, they did. But they never knew how amazing they were to women like Azusa. They only knew how amazing they were to the men they loved, who clearly loved them.
Azusa wasn't surprised that Marie was going after Stein, who lit her up from within. She couldn't be surprised. She wasn't allowed to be so naive.
So she just nodded. Everything else that had to be said, that Azusa wished Marie wasn't going, that Marie was needed with Death, as his weapon because that's what she was first and foremost, that she could be safe at the DWMA, with her, that Azusa could make her light up from the inside just like Stein could, all of it was swallowed down. If Nygus already tried and failed, Marie was sure to have heard the entire speech already.
Or most of it.
Enough of it. It didn't matter. Marie knew what she wanted, who she wanted, and Azusa had to swallow that down. If Marie wanted the white picket fence that Stein could never give her, if she wanted his hands, his hold, his heart, she could chase after him into the dead of night. She was a grown woman. She had the right to make her own choices.
Marie lifts her chin up, and from behind her, Azusa can make out two packs with plain cloaks on top of them, one for Marie and one for Crona, and in the dim light further illuminating marie and the wind blowing her hair, she looked like some sort of painting.
It stings. It stings to know how much love Marie had and that the kind Azusa wanted from her would never come. Azusa thinks it will always sting so she says goodbye, so she turns around, and when she hears Marie's mezzo calling out "I'll come back, 'Zusa. I promise!" Azusa lies and says she knows.