A/N- In this chapter- Crona behaves like an entirely different person and is re-introduced to Maka. Crackiness ensues.
Rest assured, the Crona we're familiar with is still in there… somewhere.
Thanks for the reviews, faves, and follows! It means a ton! ;u; I've never really shared any of my writing with anyone before, so I'm not very experienced. I know my sentences are way too long, but I'm working hard to fix it. It took me a few days to write this because I've been busy and I'm mostly excited to write the chapter after this one. I had a small panic attack and erased a couple thousand words because I wanted to improve them, haha... Never ended up re-writing them, though…
I hope I don't fail you, friends!
The first thing Maka felt was a burning fear, searing past her soul and into her scrambled mind, right down into her very core.
As soon as it had come, the feeling was gone, leaving behind a dull stinging on the side of her stomach. It left her with a thin bane of consciousness, and she groaned wearily. She stirred a bit, vaguely realizing that she was in her own bed and pajamas, hair tied into buns.
Good. Everything about the moon had been some kind of sick nightmare invented by her overly-imaginative mind. It seemed so real and so long, but it couldn't have really happened. It was too silly, she thought. She was safe, Soul was safe, Crona wasn't a Kishin… everything was alright.
She sighed contentedly as her mind slowly relaxed. She moved to roll over on her side, but found that she couldn't.
Something was stopping her.
Her eyes flickered open, struggling to find see in the bright light flooding into her room. She squinted a bit, finding it hard to see anything at all. Then, they quickly came to focus, and she nearly screamed in shock.
"Hi, Maka!"
Crona's face was only a hairs-width above hers, a huge, silly grin painted on it.
He was crouched above her, wearing a ridiculously bright neon-yellow hoodie that clashed horribly against his pink hair and the green shorts he had on. His hands rested on her hips as he stared at her expectantly.
"…sup?"
"…Crona…?" She managed, staring at him blankly. She was flabbergasted into silence. How the hell was she supposed to react to something as stupid as this? Wasn't he still completely insane? What was he even doing in her apartment?
"Yeah?" He asked, unmoving. He tilted his head slightly in an oddly cheerful fashion. He was acting in a way that suggested that this was the normal way of waking up.
She quickly came to the conclusion that this was not Crona.
Maka completely snapped.
"WHAT SORT OF SICK JOKE IS THIS?!" Maka landed a hard punch in his face and he fell backwards off of the bed, screaming all the way. She was not going to believe that was Crona, no way. He wasn't like this, he was gloomy! Had the world gone crazy while she was asleep?
Maka hastily decided that she had to go find Soul and sort out this mess, if it even were possible to sort. Her mind was completely muddled and she wasn't sure what to think. She quickly threw the bed covers off of herself and swung her legs out of bed, her feet landing neatly into her pink, fuzzy slippers as she pulled herself to a standing position.
"Oww…" The 'Crona' slowly stood, rubbing his swollen cheek and sticking out his lower lip in an adorable pout. "What was that fooooor…?"
Maka didn't hear him, being much too busy staring, slack-jawed, at the mess of what used to be her room.
It wasn't really the fact that all of her drawers were pulled open with the insides spilled everywhere that bothered her. It wasn't because her stuffed animals were sadistically ripped limb from limb, and it wasn't because her books had pages torn out. Although those were all true, what was most bothersome was the fact that everything was floating.
Everything in her room was ripped into pieces and slowly flying around the room without any organization, some items colliding and bouncing off of each other. When they hit, they both emitted a synchronized "Excuse me!" before heading off in their respective directions.
What also drew Maka's attention were the three, glowing Kishin eyes floating above Crona's head. They stared directly at her, pus leaking from the edges and spilling past Crona and right onto her carpet.
Crona had long since been distracted by a book floating just out of his reach. It had a dainty, heart-shaped lock on the binding. Maka's diary. "You know, Maka, I think that this makes a nice apology gift, don't you think?" He went on, with the scythe meister hardly listening to him.
Maka was busy realizing the fact that he was the one who destroyed her room, rage boiling up inside of her gut. "STOP THAT!" She yelled commandingly, hurtling the nearest dictionary at his unguarded face.
He collapsed immediately, his head nearly knocked off by the speeding projectile. The eyes that floated above his head flickered and vanished, leaving nothing but a puddle of goo on her floor.
Maka didn't have time to celebrate her victory, as she heard the quiet click of her door opening.
"Hey, Maka. You finally decided to wake up, huh?" It was a familiar voice, a friendly one, and one she was overjoyed to recognize.
She immediately turned, eyes lighting up as she saw who was standing in her doorway. She had never been this happy to see anyone in her entire life.
(Crona's small cries of "Dear god, my face!" fell upon deaf ears.)
"SOUL!" She rushed up to him as fast as her legs would carry her, and she clutched his arm tightly. She took no time bombarding him with questions. "Soul! You've got to help me! Who is this Kishin and why does he look like Crona and why is he in my room and why—" She paused mid-sentence to stare at him with a blank look.
Her weapon partner had a dusty white apron tied around his front, over an old shirt and shorts. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and he had a white bandana tied over his spiky hair. In one hand, he held a bright pink feather duster.
"…Soul, why are you dressed like that?"
That last question seemed to strike a nerve and the death scythe flinched, scowling a bit. "Well…" He pondered for a moment, staring at the ceiling. "That Kishin is Crona, he looks like Crona because that's who he is, and he's in your room because he's a pervert." His expression changed to something more dangerous and his eye twitched. "I'm wearing this stupid goddamn outfit because I have no frigging choice, okay?!" He turned as if he was going to go down the hallway again, but he was stopped by Maka squeezing his arm. He turned to look at her, surprised to find her looking like she'd been slapped across the face.
"Soul… I don't… how did… you mean, that wasn't a dream after all…?" She was silent for a moment, staring at him with wide eyes. "…how long was I asleep?" The question was tentative, as if she didn't really want to know.
He stared at her for a moment before responding.
"A few weeks, I don't know. I wasn't counting."
Ow.
That time, he saw her cheeks turn pale as hell and instantly regretted responding.
(Neither of them really noticed Crona hugging Maka's ankles, black blood dripping down his face while he sobbed to himself.)
"How much has changed, Soul?" Her voice turned flat and serious, her rational side taking over.
"A lot," he responded. When he saw the incredulous look Maka gave him, he sighed, realizing that she was asking for a lot more than just a simple answer. "Look, Maka, I'm tired as hell, okay?" He leaned in closer to her, and she noticed that there were dark bags beneath his eyes. "Do you have any idea what I've been through while you were sleeping your ass off?"
"It's not my fault," Maka snapped, quickly stopping when she noticed that he was on the edge of passing out from sleep-deprivation. "…alright, I'm sorry, I can see that you're not doing so great."
"I'll explain everything later," he told her, seemingly satisfied by her apology. "I'm not sure how much help I can be right now, so you can just run around and figure everything out by yourself."
As much as Maka wanted to object, she simply nodded, frowning.
(Crona slid upwards and clung to Maka's hips and leaned around her to stare at Maka and Soul, crying for attention; though he remained completely ignored.)
"Maka, can you check on the others while you're gone? I've been locked in this damn apartment for weeks and I'm really worried about them."
Maka paused, staring at him. "…wait, locked in? What do you mean?"
He stared at her wearily and gestured towards the living room with the feather duster. "Check in there." He turned and walked in that direction, leaving without another word.
Maka didn't like this situation at all. With Soul refusing to answer her questions, she wasn't sure if she'd ever figure out what was going on. There was always the possibility that she was dreaming, but it felt far too real for it to be fake.
Finally, Maka looked down at the sobbing boy who clung to her waist and addressed him with a sour expression. "Look, I don't believe for one second that you're Crona. I don't know who you are or what you want, but you're not my Crona, so knock it off."
Crona clung tighter, his watery eyes widening in dismay. "You don't…?" He stared at her for a long moment, waiting for her to change her mind. She couldn't tell exactly what was going through his mind and his expression didn't reveal anything, either.
At that moment, Maka decided to take a peek at his soul to see if that told more stories than his face did. Besides, she hadn't been around him very long and didn't have any idea what his soul was like. Maka discreetly switched on her soul perception ability without looking away from his face.
She didn't look directly at his soul, and she wasn't really sure that she would look at it even if she had gotten the chance. Immediately after activating her ability, her vision was completely blurred with a deep, crimson haze. She could barely make out the form of the person she stared at, much less concentrate on it. A loud, distracting humming filled her ears and threatened to make her practically deaf. She had to stop there, blinking away the haze and abandoning her soul perception.
Was that the sensation of his soul?
What was wrong with it?
Maka saw him clearly again, and his eyes still held that childishly upset light. Suddenly, his lips tightened and the tears abruptly vanished, and it became blatantly obvious that they were fake. His voice took on a low tone, deeper than she was used to, and spoke flatly. "You seriously don't believe me?"
She was surprised by his unexpected change and stared at him. She almost felt her heart stop at that moment, frozen in shock. "…no, I don't," she managed, eyes narrowing.
"Geez, Maka!" Crona groaned, letting her go and standing up. Maka jumped slightly, surprised yet again by his constant changing. "Okay, fine! Be that way!" He stuck out his tongue at her and hopped from one foot to the other, jogging in place. "I'd think you'd recognize me of all people, even after changing just a bit. But I guess that you get what you get, right? So, I'm going to make the best of it!" He gave a quirky grin and poked her on the nose, giggling like some kind of maniac. He quickly turned on his heel and rushed down the hallway in the same direction Soul went.
As he left, he gave a shout at whatever he was heading to. "Hey, are you done yet?"
Maka glanced back at her ruin of a room, biting her lip.
The living room had better not be like this…
The TV was quickly switched on as Crona threw himself onto the couch, grabbing a full bag of popcorn from cushion beside him. The television was set on the sports channel and the volume on full blast, rattling the windows with the booming sound of monster trucks. The speakers vibrated and bulged, hardly able to withstand that much noise.
The door swung open and banged against the opposing wall, revealing one very upset Maka.
She clamped her hands over her ears and bit her lower lip, trying to block out the racket to think rationally. Looking around to survey the damage, her mouth dropped open in horror.
There was a huge pile of the remains of instant ramen styrofoam cups, some tipped over and spilling their contents onto the floor that used to be clean. The walls weren't doing any better, covered in splotches of who-knows-what. Bits of popcorn were stuck in the carpet, and Soul was busy trying to pick them out, his face pulled into a scowl. He seemed to be muttering to himself, but she couldn't be sure over the noise. Her coffee table was turned on its side and placed against the wall, a blanket placed over it like some sort of fort.
Maka finally understood what Soul meant when he said that he was 'locked in'. Piles of trash and food remains were stacked up against the door, barricading it shut. The rancid smell was barely dimmed by a bunch of air fresheners hanging from the ceiling. A note was stuck on the wall next to the locked door, written in spidery handwriting; "WORK HARDER, SOUL!" A small smiley face was scribbled on the bottom corner.
"TURN IT OFF!" Maka yelled, trying to get Crona's attention. He didn't notice at all, shoveling more popcorn into his mouth. She recollected her bearings, stomping over to him and moving quickly in front of him. "OFF, NOW," She demanded, pointing towards the TV while her other hand remained clamped over her ear.
Crona stared at her for a moment, completely straight-faced. Then, he grinned sheepishly, red-faced, and mouthed something to her that she couldn't hear.
Maka raised an eyebrow. She wasn't sure what he'd thought she said, but it obviously wasn't a correct interpretation… at all. Deciding to stop things before they got awkward, she moved and hit the power switch of the TV and the noise finally vanished. Her hand dropped from her ear and she sighed wearily. Her ears were ringing a bit, and everything she heard sounded hollow.
"Maaakaaaa, why'd you do that?!" Crona complained, the blush quickly fading and the corners of his mouth tugging downwards.
"Thank you, Maka!" Soul sighed with relief from his spot on the floor.
"Shut up, Soul! Who said you were allowed to talk?!" Crona crossed his arms, looking upset.
"Just," Maka breathed, massaging her temples with annoyance. "Just… stop talking." Crona moved to say something she knew would be snarky, but she put up a hand and stopped him. "Oh, don't even start that. I've had quite enough of you."
He sighed in disappointment.
"Crona, or whoever you are," Maka demanded, pointing at the barricaded door. "Open it. No buts, just do it."
Crona looked like he was going to object, but he decided not to. Avoiding eye-contact, he snapped his fingers. The piles of trash were suddenly gone, leaving behind nothing but a sickly odor and a puddle of mold.
Soul gave a strangled scream and flopped backwards onto the floor, clutching his head in desperation. "You… why didn't you do that in the first place…!"
Maka had no room left for surprise. She was already getting weary, and she'd only just woken up. She sighed sleepily and rubbed her forehead. "Please, no more… What did I do wrong…?" Her hair had fallen out of its buns, and there were popcorn kernels stuck between her toes. She was more than fed up.
"Maka…" Crona whimpered, using that innocent voice he'd put on earlier. "I-I'm sorry if I made you mad…"
"Can it," She snapped, turning away and going back towards her room. "You can't fool me."
Soul had since fallen asleep in the middle of the floor, snoring loudly.
"Blehhhh," Crona muttered, pursing his lips with annoyance.
Maka dug through her closet and took out some fresh clothing. She held it close to her chest as she trudged to the bathroom sleepily. Whatever it took, she was going to re-gain some sense of normalcy.
She stepped into the bathroom, making sure the door was locked behind her. She was wary of 'Crona', and wasn't going to take any sort of a risk. She knew it was silly and dumb to think that he might barge in on her, but she had a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that he was just how Soul had described him earlier.
She quickly brushed the wariness away. Even if that wasn't Crona, it was hard for her to imagine something even slightly resembling him being like that.
Maka mentally chastised herself for being such a worrywart, sighing and setting her clean clothes down on the sink.
She was about to undress, but the nagging feeling wouldn't leave her. Maybe there was something in the shower? She thought of herself as being childish for suspecting him of hiding in there or something, but it wouldn't hurt to check.
Maka yanked the shower curtain open…
…and screamed.
Three Kishin eyes poked out of the wall, red pupils trained directly on her. For the first time in ages, she was glad that she was paranoid. Swinging the curtain closed again, she picked up her clothes and stormed out of the bathroom, heading towards the front door.
Crona spotted her as she went and ran after her, sounding panicky. "Oh, Maka, y-you saw that? I mean, I can explain—"
"No." Maka spoke firmly and didn't even pause to look at him, acting like he wasn't there.
"Maka, I—"
"Just… no." She grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open, still ignoring him.
"BUT—"
"NO!" With that, she slammed the door shut in his face.
A/N- Not exactly what you expected, huh?
Well, I tried, right?
Kind of short, too. I'll make it longer if I get the chance.
Next time, Maka pays a visit to Gallows Manor and meets a distressed Kid with a serious problem on his hands.
I pretty much consider these first parts to be an introduction of sorts, but yeah.
Sorry I didn't put too much effort into this chapter, I initially wrote it in the middle of the night when I was just about ready to pass out. :( My sincere apologies. I'll work harder next time, promise!
See you later!
