A/N: Have a very sad TsuStar.
"I don't think I can give you an encore this time, Black Star."
Tsubaki knew she had fought her last fight. There was no ultimate victory against all odds for her, no sudden surge of strength through her veins to stand and win.
"Shut up! Don't talk like that! Just - just hang in there, Tsu...Jesus, what were you thinking?"
Everything was red. There was so much of it. Tsubaki coughed fitfully; Black Star noticed with alarm that her lips were painted a darker red than what she'd worn when she'd dressed up for girl's night with Maka or Liz, even more so than when she drank too much merlot.
"I had to -" she coughed again, and Black Star cradled her helplessly, "do my duty. As your weapon -"
"I'm a god, Tsubaki! I would have been fine!" Black Star searched frantically for the source of the bleeding. There's so much, there's so much, it's coming from everywhere -
Tsubaki smiled weakly. "Of course…" she trailed off, sounding terrifyingly tired.
Black Star had always thought she looked beautiful without makeup. She was all softness, kindness, long ponytails and dark blue eyes. Now her face was too pale and her eyes too dark.
"C'mon, Tsu," Black Star whispered. "You get me. Tsubaki, you get me. You're...you're in my soul. We're tied together! You can't leave me here! You have to get up, Tsubaki!" He gently shook her battered body, broken beyond repair.
She inhaled shakily. Black Star thought his heart would stop when her eyes met his.
They were the same indigo blue as always, brimming with kindness and steadfast courage, a support he hadn't even known he'd needed until now, but they were bright in a way he had never seen before. They almost had stars in them.
Her red, red lips worked: he leaned closer.
"I will always be in your soul, Black Star." A hand pressed feebly against his chest, right above his heart. "As long as you need me, I'm there."
He gripped her hand against his chest when it went limp.
"Tsu? Tsubaki? Tsu, I need you to get up." He shook her, harder when she didn't respond. A numbness spread through him. "Tsubaki?!" He reached for Soul Resonance and felt nothing but a cold void. "Tsubaki…" he whispered.
He felt a switch flip inside him. He stood calmly, ignoring the dead body of his weapon by his feet, ignoring the blood making his clothes cling to him and staining his arms, pretending that it wasn't Tsubaki's, pretending instead it was his - the way it should have been, the way it would have been if she'd stayed in weapon-form, safe from harm and outside of the ring of conflict.
He felt nothing at the fall of his first victim. He felt nothing when his shoulder was pierced by a long thorn that Tsubaki would have been able to stop, wielded by his sure hands.
He felt nothing when a rogue weapon slashed his calf open, a move that would have artfully been deflected by his own weapon; the most beautiful and kind weapon of all.
He felt nothing as he ripped the throat out of the rogue meister. He felt disgust at the tainted liquid covering the precious, priceless blood already on his hands. He tried not to think how that was both a literal and metaphorical statement. Tsubaki would like that. She'd be so proud of me.
He felt nothing when Maka and Soul arrived; nothing when Kid and the sisters came to help. He felt a detached anger at how long they had taken. Nothing more.
He felt nothing and said nothing when they gasped at the carnage he had left. He said nothing when they stared at him, at who he was cradling. He said nothing at Maka's keening wail and Soul's dumbstruck expression; he said nothing when Kid asked for details, when Liz began to hyperventilate, when Patti ripped apart an already-decimated corpse, when Kid ended up pulling both the Thompsons off-scene.
He said nothing when Soul laid a hand on his shoulder, offering their place to sleep for as long as he needed. Black Star said nothing to the offer. Soul seemed to get it, leading away a still-sobbing Maka. Black Star thought he heard her whispering "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry" before they both disappeared, leaning on each other for support.
He sat still as stone. His fingers ran through Tsubaki's hair. He'd ended up taking it out of it's ponytail - she'd loved to play with it when it was down. He thought he could do this for her, if it made her feel better. He hoped she didn't mind the blood on his fingers too much.
He wished she wasn't so cold. He wished her eyes would open. "Jinx!" She'd say. But Tsubaki was never one for pranks: that was more his area of expertise. She'd fallen so easily for almost every one of his tricks…
He gently combed through a tangle in her long black mane. He knew she'd be in a tizzy over how wild her hair was; she'd try to brush it smooth for hours back at home. He knew, because he always managed to knock over and spill her expensive hair-creams all the time. She'd just sigh, shake her head, and offer him her secret little smile before cleaning it up and telling him to shoo.
He said nothing, but he thought everything. He thought about how beautiful she was when she brushed her hair in the morning and would sing quietly in Japanese, eyes wistful. He thought about how whenever she walked or ran or danced she moved with grace and poise fit for a queen. He thought about how she'd giggle when he made a joke and her eyes would widen with horror when she snorted delicately.
He thought about how, for all her strength, she still fit into his arms like broken porcelain, a tiny glass bird shattered on the ground, pieces ripping into him and tearing him apart.
He thought about how she had reached for him in the dark from her own bed to his, their fingers tangling, as she whispered about how she secretly imaged her death would be silent and unnoticed. He thought about how soft her hand had been and how her voice trembled when she was fighting off tears. He thought about how wrong she had been, how utterly ridiculous, because this was the most violent shaking of his universe he had ever felt - it made him sure his heart was being torn in two.
He realized she was his best friend, the constant support at his side, raising him to new heights with a smile.
He realized she would never stand by him again or smile at him, eyes glowing with ethereal light, ever again.
He loved the stars, but without her he couldn't see them anymore, he was blind to the beauty above him. They had gone out in the sky because Tsubaki was an entire galaxy while he could only ever hope to be one star - and he had never felt so alone, without her up there with him, keeping the darkness at bay.
But he said nothing.
He felt as cold as she was.
Her hair was so soft.
The horrible, raw emptiness inside him swirled like a black hole.
When he screamed, he was surprised the heavens didn't fall.
Soul and Maka were quiet on their way to the funeral.
It was a small event: Lord Death led it (Soul felt that was oddly inappropriate) but he appreciated the words said anyways. Sid was blank-faced; Nygus had a hand in front of her mummified mouth. She looked like she was choking.
Soul tried to keep his eyes downcast. It hurt more to look around and meet the eyes of his friends. Kid, Liz, Patti, Ox, Harvar, Kilik - everyone had a similar dead expression.
Maka was the worst of all.
She was so empty, like a hollowed-out pumpkin. She was in-between him and her father: for once, he and Spirit weren't rivals. They both knew they had to support the most important girl in their lives, together, and forget about their stupid rivalry. After something this monumental, Soul wasn't sure they would ever have the energy to be rivals again.
He felt Maka tremble next to him when the first shovelful of dirt hit the top of the coffin; he bit his lip, drawing blood. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. Together, they watched as one of their comrades - no, one of their closest friends - settled six-feet under for a good, long sleep.
Soul and Maka waited longer than the others. They waited longer than Kid and the sisters. Nygus and Sid left not long after the three: Nygus was collapsing and Sid wanted to get her home. Lord Death pressed one of his hands on the headstone and whispered some words - Soul supposed it was a godly blessing for peace and rest. Spirit went to the car to wait to drive them both back home.
The sun was setting, now, and Soul noted that Maka's hair glowed like liquid fire in its golden rays.
She turned to him, laughing and hiccupping with her tears shimmering like diamonds. "He would laugh at me if he saw me crying over him," she managed to choke out.
Soul managed a sad smile. She was radiant in her sadness, like a broken glass window - catching the sun's rays in every way, lighting up everything around her like a prism. "Yeah."
He said nothing when she wrapped her arms around his waist. She'd probably worry over wrinkling his suit and getting saltwater on it later, but he didn't care right now and neither did she. We need this.
He took a deep breath through his nose and looked down at the face of the girl he loved, the beautiful glass prism, and wondered if that was what Black Star was finally able to do with his girl now, too.
Soul gently tugged Maka away, towards where Spirit was waiting in the car. "C'mon, Maka. I think Black Star deserves a little time with Tsubaki, huh?"
She smiled. He wanted to capture her tears and hide them away, hide all this hurt and misery away. "They have eternity together now."
The two mourning friends and one mourning father drove away from the fresh-turned plot of earth and the slightly older one.
When Black Star had picked what went on Tsubaki's gravestone, it went through Maka's mill-brain, grinding out technicalities, but they had eventually reached a point where they could agree:
Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, Shadow-weapon of Three-Star Meister Black Star
Gifted fighter, strong hearted, gentle spirit, loved by all
Friend to everyone:
To her meister, she was the stars
A month prior the funeral, Soul had tried to have an evening with his friend like the old days. The shadows under Black Star's eyes and premature lines around his mouth had been brushed over in the hope of good spirits, but the one topic that had brought the smile back to his face had been Tsubaki.
"Tsu…" Black Star paused, his aged eyes distant, filled with something Soul couldn't understand.
Black Star smiled slightly from his place on Soul's floor and raised his glass. "To Tsubaki. To the woman who's the stars. And to me seeing her again someday, somewhere she can't be hurt, somewhere we'll both be happy."
Black Star's headstone hadn't been difficult for Maka to write at all.
Black Star, last of the Star Clan line, Three-Star Meister
Renowned assassin who caused laughter, never surrendered, and surpassed the gods in might
His mightiest accomplishment:
He finally saw the stars again