Disclaimer: This story is inspired by the Soul Eater manga (specifically chapter 89). It's therefore MANGAVERSED. Copyrights go to their respective owners, namely Okubo-sensei.

Heal
by. Stré

Chapter 1

A Silent Metronome

At first glance, from that far distance, it resembled an opaque speck of white. Maka knew that it was not a shining soul, and she quickened her pace to reveal the identity of that something, that someone she could feel moving. The figure grew larger as she approached closer, and the mysterious being was soon unveiled.

She locked her gaze on the hunched lanky figure. He or she was seated, tightly hugging their legs, nose to their knees, face downcast and buried in their thick off-white scarf that was looped repeatedly around their neck. Black bangs hid their eyes, but Maka was sure that their lids were probably shut anyways. A thin white linen shirt clung loosely on the figure's weak frame, while black slacks with frayed edges covered the bottom. Silently, he or she rocked back and forth, seemingly shivering in terror.

This image reminded Maka of Chrona, and a wave of sympathy rushed its way in her heart. Maybe not all hope was lost and that she was on the right track in finding her friend. This individual could potentially lead her closer to her goal, despite being entirely disoriented at this point in time.

"Hi," Maka softly greeted.

She was ignored. Silence reigned.

"Umm… Hello?" she uttered a little louder. Still no acknowledgement. This was going to be a challenge.

Maka racked her brain and tried to remember how she had first approached Chrona during their trial period as a student. Thinking back, Chrona was the one to greet her when she entered the dorm room. Having fought in battle twice and even falling into madness to better understand her opponent, Maka realised that she was already well acquainted with Chrona, so it was no wonder that their communication flowed naturally when they were reunited at school.

The current situation was drastically different. For one, she did not know this person at all. She could not see their soul nor feel their wavelength. Heck, she could not even see their face! Maka was at a complete loss.

She sat down beside the frightened being, and casually scrutinized its figure once again. Her gaze fell upon its hands and bare feet. They were thin, bony, stretched with ghostly pale skin, but Maka realised that they were definitely male.

She noticed his intensified shivers as her eyes travelled across his body. Could he feel her stare? Even though she was ignored, he must have known that she was there, especially after vocally greeting him. Maka could almost smell the fear permeating from his skin, and she wondered if it was in fact her that left him in such terror. Was her mere presence intimidating him? Too many questions were swimming in the lost girl's mind, and Maka hated it when she couldn't find the answers. Frustration flared, but she knew that she must calm her spirit.

Taking another deep breath, she closed her eyes and concentrated on subsiding her nerves. The pulse of the air, like a human heartbeat, allowed Maka to focus on something. She had already matched her wavelength with this creepily animate atmosphere when she initially wanted to ease her breath, but she now deepened the bond, further capturing its essence. It was scared, just like the boy. It told her that it wanted to be alone. It didn't want her around, but it didn't have the courage to fend her off. It was weak, pathetic, and hurt.

Maka shifted her body, and she sat at an angle where her vision was blocked from the boy, but where he could take a quick glance at her back if he chose to lift his chin. Perhaps this would ease his restlessness; he was safe from her apparently piercing gaze.

They sat in silence and the feeling of eternity returned.

.

.

.

Time is a strange concept. On one hand, it is a human construct, a tool to measure the passing moments, a guideline for recording history, a way to regulate daily life. To Maka, the inventor of the clock, the 24-hour system, was a complete genius with great organisation skills. Fusing numbers with the natural world: what a beautiful metaphor for humanity itself! Days and nights were indeed separated by the sun and moon, leaving a natural indicator for passing time, but with the 24 hours complementing this phenomenon, humans were not only transforming it into a quantitative value, but they were essentially superimposing their faculty of the conceptual realm onto natural order.

"It's just like the relationship between the human mind and body, internal with external, the symbiosis of concept and object, the mating of polar opposites…" she thought to herself. Oh gosh, was she getting philosophical and maybe even poetic.

Maka was so engrossed in her thoughts that she did not even notice the slight twitch of movement from the boy. For quite some time, his shivering had stopped, but despite being at relative ease, the tempo of his heart still beat at prestissimo. Lightly lifting his head from the confines of his scarf, he reluctantly whispered,

"Sorry…"

The girl snapped out of her reveries. Did he actually just say something?

She pivoted her body to face him, to confirm her suspicion. And indeed, her ears had not failed her: the boy did in fact speak, and moreover, his face was no longer hidden beneath the fabric. He revealed delicate features: a small nose, thin lips, with a complexion as ghostly pale as his hands. His black hair fell just above his shoulders with strands of bangs sweeping over his ruby eyes. He looked about her age, quite normal, maybe even a bit good-looking if he better maintained his health.

It only took Maka a fleeting moment to assess his facial features, but in rivalling speed, he was able to avert his gaze and hide back into his scarf. Nevertheless, Maka did not care. She knew she had his attention: she could finally use words with him. She turned around and angled herself back to her I-can't-see-him-but-he-can-see-me position, and she spoke in a confident clear voice,

"My name's Maka. What's yours?"

The boy flinched at her confidence and took a moment to respond. He kept his head down, and through the fabric, Maka heard his muffled voice.

"…shuu…" he mumbled. Maka wasn't even sure if she heard him right, but she didn't press the matter further. She simply nodded, and went straight to the point.

"By any chance, do you know someone named Chrona? If so, do you know where they could be?" Maka was eager for his reply.

Shuu shook his head, caught a little off-guard by the rapid questions. He looked up and realised that Maka had her back turned away from him. He felt more at ease.

"Sorry, I'm not sure…" he responded with reluctance. "My memory is a little hazy. I'm actually a little lost myself."

Maka somehow saw this as a good sign: maybe he really did have a clue but he simply could not remember right now. Maybe this wasn't all just a waste of time, and that she was on the right track in finding Chrona. With renewed motivation, she decided to help him open up to her.

"How much do you remember? Have any clue where you need to be?" she asked sympathetically.

"I'm…really not sure where I need to go... but maybe there are things I can remember…"

"Go ahead and voice them out. Brainstorming's a great tactic!" she encouraged with a smile that he couldn't see but that could be perceived in her voice.

The boy explained as much as he could. He first told Maka that his mind was very uncertain. Some of his memories seemed detached from his own feelings; he knew them but he somehow didn't feel them. For example, he knew that he had lost his partner, but he somehow didn't feel that he had a partner to begin with. He knew that he needed to hide, but he once again didn't know the reason why, nor did he feel the urgency of being chased.

"Is there anything that you're completely sure about? Any memories that you know are real and feel strongly for?" Maka grew impatient and turned to face him. This time, he did not cower in fear, but he still could not make eye contact. Well at least he didn't hide in his scarf.

He simply looked straight ahead, pondering and a little confused.

"For example… what do you like? Any hobbies?" supplied Maka.

At this question, he perked up a little. It had sparked his attention because it was something that he could answer.

"Oh, I really like calm things…Nature, walks, and… reading! Yes…especially reading…" He faintly smiled to himself.

"REALLY? Reading? That's my favourite hobby too!" Maka beamed and Shuu was so taken aback by her enthusiasm that he instinctively hid in his scarf.

But the girl didn't care about his reaction. She had grown tired of the shy behaviour, and if she didn't nudge him forward with her bold personality, she would never get anywhere. So he liked reading. Great! That gave her material to work with.

"So Shuu… what's your favourite title?"

He raised his head reluctantly but didn't seem to know how to respond. Maka decided to continue speaking.

"Mine is The Dark Side of the Moon by Rhoda Donseini. An absolutely riveting tale with just the right amount of romance. Have you read it?"

"N-no, I've never even heard of it… But I know another book that's really fascinating with a touch of romance. It's called Carpe Diem by K.L. Blasco."

"Oh, of course! I love that one too. It's such an old classic. I had a phase where I only read 11th century literature, and I'm glad I did because now I can see where contemporary authors have drawn their inspirations from. Have you read the Ode on the Ordinary Insanity, or how about Below the Arches of Eden?"

At this question, Shuu became even more animated, as if the engine in his brain had finally reached full gear.

"Yes! Those are really great. Those two authors were part of a group, and I've also read the entire opus of all nine writers, along with the research material they used to complete their work!" he said with some pride.

The girl was left wide-eyed and Shuu, noticing her reaction, felt that he had made a mistake. He quickly corrected himself.

"N-n-not that I'm a n-n-nerd or anything. It's just because a senior of mine that I really look up to is obsessed with knowledge. He introduced most of it to me, and out of respect, I was obliged… but of course, I also felt that it was—

"I read it all too!" she interrupted. "So don't worry."

Their eyes met. The girl smiled. The boy blushed. But his gaze did not waver.

Maka could not contain her excitement because she had never met anyone interested in medieval writing. Although her prime focus was her search for Chrona, she decided to pursue her conversation with her newfound bookworm comrade. She was curious about his thoughts and impressions which he returned with an equal amount of zeal.

The once shy and terrified boy was now fully engaged in the discussion. Voice full of life with a trace of confidence, he asserted his opinions, analyse, arguments. All the while, he never broke eye contact.

His eyes were like embers that reminded Maka of her partner. However, there was something mysterious, more unnerving, and dare she say more intense than Soul's. It could have been his pupils, shaped like a feline's. Or maybe it was the way he looked at her, the hungry look of wanting more, showing its past terror with its hope for the future.

All good things have an end, and so would their conversation. When Maka saw a pinprick of light in the far distance, as much as she was enjoying herself, she did not hesitate to place a bookmark in their chapter and call it a day.

"Shuu. See that light over there? I think we should follow it."

The boy hesitated. He better not cower in fear again or I'll seriously Maka-chop him with my bare hands. To the contrary of the girl's thoughts, the boy instead responded,

"Sure."

Maka simply smiled and was first to rise. She gave him her hand to help him up and he carefully took it. Lifting him up to his feet, Maka was now confronted with his standing form. The boy was surprisingly tall, at least a head taller than her. But more surprisingly enough, he did not let go of Maka's hand: he simply grasped it more firmly, slowly weaving his fingers within hers and interlocking their joints.

Needless to say, Maka was quite shocked by his move, but she did not pull away nor did she even shed any facial reaction. She also needed the comfort, especially with the unknown journey lying ahead.

Hand in hand, they ventured towards the white light.

A/N: I wanted to write something "heartfelt" because the manga hardly gives Asura any airtime and he deserves more flesh (especially to that super skinny bod)! I'm not sure how drawn-out this story will be, but I'm aiming it to be sensitive (at least in the beginning).

On a side note, the name Asura is formed with 3 kanji~ and the middle one could be pronounced as "shuu".

Also, as I'm sure you may have noticed, the book titles are made up. I didn't want to use things that really existed because the SE universe seems somewhat different than ours… and Maka's fave book (that was mentioned in the book of Eibon) is also made up.

Please let me know if you spot any typos or errors...or if you're terribly confused. There's method to the madness; all in good time (hopefully). ^_^