A.N: So yeah. I did this. It was in my mind for weeks, and layed in my computer for days. I worked my ass of on this one... Hope you will like it. Warning: Mayor character death. Or maybe two. Sorry.
When she left him everything died with her. Everythinge was silent. Without life. Everything was dull, because there was no more vibrant green that would enlighten his day, or lift his darkness and keep him going on.
When she died he wished he could go too, to the place where she was, where he could hold her and kiss her again.
It was true, that they shared a beautiful life blessed with children, filled with laughter and happy memories. It was life full of hope, hope that one day, their children will live in the good world, world worth of living in.
He remembers, all those years back,when they were still fighting the evil, how she woud talk about her hopes of better world, her hopes of living a life without nightmares, of dying old in her bed without scares. Beside him.
Even if her hope had left her sometimes, she, they, still managed to get it together again. Restitch it togethr after Blackstar died. Restich it after her Papa and after Stein left them. After Kilik did. After Liz.
Restriping it again and again, and again, and again, until it was only a thin cobweb in the back of her mind. But it still was there, and it grew as their peacefull years progressed. Because one day, there came a breaking point. The lifethreatening fights grew more rare. The witches settled down. People, normal people, were educated about corrupted souls, trained to see the symptoms, to see the bad in others. And after, everything went better. It was life that they wished for themselves, even if some of them weren't there to see it.
They had their first kid after four years of peace. He remembers how Maka's eyes shone brightly when their daughter came to this world, as he holded her for the first time. He remembers how her eyes shone as she saw their daughters daughter. Remembers bright light, light that leaked from her very soul, when she holded her grand son for the first time.
Because her soul was the only thing that hadn't changed not a bit throught the years. Her hair did. Her face did. Tt had wrinkled and gotten splashed with little freckless. Her hands shook sometimes, when she worked too much in their little garden, the skin on them paper-thin and old- so old. Even her eyes changed- telling a story of life full of battle and bravery and her sacrifices, she had to make.
She died like she wanted to. Peacefully. Not like Star or Liz did- not in fight.
The memory was still fresh, oozing pain whenever he dared to get closer to that sacred little space in his mind. Even with all the years that had gone by, it still hurt.
They were sitting on their werand, on comfortable plastic vowen bench, sun slowly setting in front of them. It was late summer, one with warm air, full of bees and birds flying around. She was reading a book, one he had seen her read thousand times, her hair pulled into low bun on her scalp, glasses riding low on her nose.
He watched the sun set in the reflexion of her glasses, watched as it dusted the silver strands of her hair, rimming her head with gold. He hummed one of his tunes, little something he picked from her soul earlier that day.
She looked up at the sun and then at him, smiled softly and asked for a cup of tea. He brought her one, green tea as she liked, and an orange juice for him. She used to make fun of him because, because, really, they were supposed to be serious war veterans, who by absolutely no means could drink juice. Only Tea. Or coffe. Maybe hot chocolate?
She set the book down, in her lap, carefully marking the page, and craddled the mug in her palms, blowing of the steam. "Beautiful, isn't it?" She asked him, eyes trained at the smiling sun. It was quite unusual to see it that way, without it's stupid looking, tired and drooling face.
"Yeah," he breathed out.
There was a comfortable silence, in which they watched the sky coulour all the shades of red and orange. They didn't need words to say what the wanted, because they were one soul. One mind.
"I love you, Soul." He still had his eyes on the sky, but reached over and took her small palm in his hand, intervining their fingers.
"Love you too." He didn't see her smile, but he knew it was still there, her soul giving a small tug on his.
"Let's just watch."And they sat like that, quietly, recalling special memories and sending them back and forth to each other throught their link. Time passed like that-calmly, until the bottom of the sun touched the horizont.
Then it came. A sharp pain, mindnumbing, coursed throught his body. Only a moment, a second that left him out of his breath, gasping, fighting to get air into his lungs. His vision blanked, only seeing black with red dots for a moment...
He knew what happenen, beacuse he couldn't feel her anymore, and he knew what it meant. He hated that he knew.
He didn't want to look, didn't want to, but he knew, and he had to see, and at the same time didn't want to confirm the obvious, confirm what his soul told him. That she wasn't there anymore.
She was leaning softly ahgainst the backrest, her head lulled to the side. No.
No. He refused to believe...No, just NO.
He shaked her, softly, even when he knew it was futile.
He didn't, he couldn't stop himself from calling out her name. Maybe he believed that she would lift her head and smile at him, tell him that this was only some cruel joke, he didn't know. Everything but not this, please.
He took her in his ams, pressing her against his chest and cradling her face in his palms. His tears ran freely down his face, his shoulders shaking with the force of the knowledge.
Her book fell out of her lap, landing on the wood with an resonating thud.
"Maka? Maka. Hey..."
No, please, no. No. Maka, come, come here, come back, I'm still here, please come, come back. Don't leave me, no. No. NO. No, no, no, no...
"Maka!"
He shouted it, her name, letting the world see his pain, see that she was no longer with him. That it broke him, left him shattered to pieces, bleeding and cut...
Their children came, mourning with him. Their friends came, saying their condolescences. Her students came, old and younger ones, to see her for the last time. There were so many people on her funeral. Her students, people they once saved, their friends, even shinigami came to say goodbye to his long-term friend. But it was all lost to him. They weren't what he wanted to see the most again.
A week later, he had finally gotten himself together enough to go back to their house. Everything was as he left it. Even the book, her book, was still lying where it had fallen so, so long ago.
It took him another week and half to pick it up. Because everything he had seen reminded him of her, and he was hurt, so hurt. He bended his old knees, reaching out for the hard-cover, when something slipped from between the pages.
It was a letter. Many letters. One for each of their kids, for Sam and Chloe, and Alex. One for Tsubaki and Patty, For Kid... But the first one was for him.
He could't help but smile, as his blurry eyes followed each word. They were words of goodbye, but also hope. That one time, they will see each other again. He believed it, because Maka, his Maka was always the one with true and good words.
Even now, ten years after, he still cried when he readed it. Like now. The paper was fondled so many times, getting wrinkly and thin, yellowed by all the times he caught it between his fingers to read her last words again.
He knew them from heart, each one burned in his mind, but he stilll had to see them. For they were something she created with her hands, wrriten with her own soul. He looked at it trying to find what he needed, to figure this out.
Soul,
I know that this hurts. But you need to stay strong for me, okay?
I love you, I love you so much Soul. It pains me to leave you like this. Behind.
I knew what would happen. Let me explain...
Her imaginary voice told him in his head, that Kid came in earlier that week, when he was out with their son. That Kid came to tell her that she would need to go, go to the place far off, even if it was strictly forbidden for him to do so, to tell a mortal the date of their death. But Kid felt it would be right to give her time to prepare her farewell, to write what she needed to be said.
I used to be so good with words. Now, I'm left, looking at the blank pages. My head is so full of everything I want to tell you. But nothing feels worth enough of you, for you...
The same as nothing that came for him ever felt good enough for her. So much things they had in common.
I hope you can forgive me...
He did, he already did, all those years ago.
I hope for so many other things. I hope that one day you will be happy again. I hope that nothing happens to our grand kids.
I hope... No I believe that we will meet agian. In the sky perhaps? In stars? I don't know, I never asked anyone...
He hoped too, that they would meet again. It didn't matter where or when, just that it would happen. Her letter continued with words of love, of what he meant to her. How his soul had never let her down. How he cared for her, played out his soul to her and protected her and just how much it meant...
This is not a farewell, Soul. This is only a little goodbye, for the time that would keep us apart.
Kid had wisited him three days ago. What he told him made his soul shudder, because what if she wasn't right about the meeting again part? But maybe, maybe, it was finally time to reunite again.
He had readed her letter countless times these days looking for something, a clue of what he was supposed to do, how he was supposed to say his goodbye. And then his eyes landed upon them, on his salvation, on his key:
Your music was full of anger and bitterness when we first met. Full of despair. But at the same time it was raw, and beautiful- it was you. It filled me with what I needed most at times: with will and power to figh, with hope and confidence, and as the time progressed, it insinuated me the words I needed. It made me realise just how much of nothing I was without you. Your piano always told who you were..
And just as that he realized. He knew how. Because. just as much as Makas ace were words, his were music notes.