Chapter 3: The hour strikes chrysalism when her strength returns

chrysalism. n. the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to waves of rain pattering against the roof like an argument upstairs, whose muffled words are unintelligible but whose crackling release of built-up tension you understand perfectly.*

*not officially a word, it's cute though right?

The wind settled down on the other side of his window. It no longer howled rebelliously, smoothing over its temper tantrum like it never happened.

Summer storms were like that. They didn't linger. Pity, Black Star thought, that life didn't work the same way. Stuff like childhood abandonment and trust issues follow you around forever, and good things like friendship drift away with time. What a fucking rip.

Rest assured, when he one day transcended his moral existence and rewrote the laws of the universe, that was one of the first discrepancies he was fixing.

But for now, the best he could do was damage-control. Which honestly wasn't a whole lot. Though at the same time, maybe it was enough.

Upon hearing his question, her rage seemingly disappeared, melting away her insults mid-sentence. His charged line quelled her fury, sparking another emotion he hadn't known existed within her. Was this what she looked like when she was vulnerable?

She was impenetrable for so long; it was time for her to let go. So she cried again. Yes, again. Because sometimes you cry over nothing, because everything collides all at once.

In her blubbering, Black Star could only pick out a few phrases out of the cascade that flowed from her mouth. She complained about her apartment, how it was dirty as shit because Soul trashed it just the other night and still hasn't cleaned his mess. He's still in a pissy mood over how he couldn't part his hair right. Her mom never answered her calls- had never answered her many, many phone calls Maka has left for her in her voice mail. It was always the same monotone voice. "Please leave your name and message after the beep." Spirit was getting pushy. Can't he leave her alone? Go bother mama instead- maybe he'll get an answer. Kid wanted progress. None, sorry boy. Blair hasn't been home. The flowers by her kitchen window died while she was away on a mission, and no rain came in this desert city to save them. Last night, there was hair in her food. It wasn't even her hair; her hair is blonde dammit. Why is her hair blonde?

And Star, it's just not a good day.

It's just not a good week.

It's just not a good time at all , Star.

And all she did was take it. The pressure. The pain. The feeling of responsibility as it crumbled through her fingers. She wasn't strong enough to change things for better or for herself, and she still isn't strong enough to pick up the broken pieces and to fix it up. "Good as new."

No, let her be.

Let her run from these problems and pretend like nothing was wrong. Let her be safe and calm and act as if life weren't ready to strike her where she stood. Let the things, the stuff, the to-dos fall away. Please- just let her be a child once again who took cover from storms and who hid away from rain.

Black Star heard this; he heard the hurt in her soul and her vulnerable heart as she removed the illusions that coated it. Now that he knew her worries, he could fulfill his role again. Her familiar distraction. He reached out with his wavelength, and although he couldn't truly touch her with his aggressive force, he emitted comfort and warmth. With his own body though, he turned around to allow her privacy.

He hoped he reached her.

Interlude 3

"Nothing is gonna change after tomorrow, right?"

The question came out of Maka's mouth, but it surprised both of them. It was a thought the two life-long friends had danced around ever since their EAT class enrollments became final. It just took until this moment, sitting side by side on Sid Barrett's couch with the TV on, that the fear became tangible enough to speak aloud.

Black Star stuffed his face with some popcorn. Chewing and fishing kernels out of his teeth gave him extra time to mull the question over. When he swallowed, salt and butter still simmering on his tongue, he could only hazard another question.

"What do you mean?"

Maka shrugged. "I dunno." She folded herself deeper into the cushions.

"Bullshit. You never say empty stuff."

Maka stared at the television, but it was clear that she wasn't watching. Instead, another future was playing in her mind. "Mama says things change when you get paired with a weapon. You spend a lot of time together. Sometimes you even live with them. I guess I'm just wondering...do you think that's going to change us? "

The question sounded like ripping a tablecloth off of a fully set table and sending every plate and glass clattering to the floor.

Black Star's guffaw was the shattered glass. "Are you kidding? I'm Black Star. I can do anything. And that includes having more than one best friend at a time." He didn't know if those words were for her, or if they were meant for him. "Plus weapons are wimpy noodles."

-somewhere else, Tsubaki laughed along side him, handing him a photo of them during their previous hike up (insert Japanese mountain). Somewhere on the other side of the world, Maka sat curled up against Soul, reading her classics aloud while he played his guitar, listening to her heart as it played its own tune...

"Right," Maka muttered with a nod, still uncertain.

"They can't punch for shit, and they'll be in different classes than us. I'm offended that you think there is a weapon out there cooler than me."

- feverish. She giggled in the way only he could draw from her voice. Black Star was indeed the coolest one now, Tsubaki agreed as he shook off the snow. He was radiant against the white…

"Oh please, I already know that will never be true." Maka leaned back against the couch cushions in a more comfortable position. She was more relaxed now that this was out in the open, but some unease remained. "So we'll still have movie nights?"

-her freshly popped kernels to the couch, dodging her partner's attempt to swipe a few before she began to shovel the buttery mound into her mouth. As she ate, Soul took the chance to put on their Friday favorites, absentmindedly plucking a fallen piece in between their laps...

"Yup," Black Star said, popping the 'p.' "No partners allowed."

-none. In the emptiness of the dark, she was the one who brought light to his night. As if no other could enter their world, Black Star lowered his shield for her as she took him in her waiting...

"And we'll train together."

-crawled out of bed. But he did it for her. Even if the sky pissed and even if the earth cracked under him, Soul would run behind her through disaster. The hardest step is the first, he reminded himself as he willed for her back to come closer...

"Obviously. You think there exists a weapon that can keep up with me? Or put up with you?"

- shred of hope. Oh, but there was nothing. Nothing but each other as she effortlessly stole his breath, wearing it as if it were her own. He in turn gave her his utmost attention, eyes never leaving her as she danced through the harshness…"

She punched him in the arm. He didn't flinch. "Then it's settled."

- and there, they stood suspended in time...

"Settled like your mom." Black Star felt her punch this round.

-months passed before Black Star and Maka had a chance to see each other between missions, and even then, they only briefly nodded in the hallways before heading to their next one…

"Tale as old as time," the song sang, beginning a sequence that both kids knew from heart.

They returned to the movie, but it was an empty peace. Relationships don't change like the seasons in a constant repetitive cycle.

"Will you be ok though?"

They pushed forward like boulders on a hill, progressive down their own path in the direction gravity pulled them.

In that moment, Black Star and Maka were suspended on a precipice, standing in place. Tomorrow, they would fall over the edge.

"With or without you, I will be."

It was in this blissful moment of ignorance, before either Soul or Tsubaki expanded their worlds like the big bang, before the kishin tore it all down again, that Black Star fell asleep on Maka's shoulder and she on his as the rain fell outside.

"Same shit, different day, huh?" he finally said.

Maka turned away, this time smirking. "Shit Star, you act like you were there."

In return, he smiled, turning with her to lean against her back as he looked outside his window.

The sky was still gloomy, and it was still pouring rain like it was trying to wash the world of its sin. But Black Star swore that a certain part in the sky was lighting up where the full moon should have been that night, and that was where he looked as Maka's hand found his.

He believed she was strong, stronger than him, stronger than anyone else in this world. And even now as she poured out her soul like the passing clouds, even as she was weak within his walls, she was still the strongest person he had ever seen.

Since they were young, they knew: If Maka was lightning, he was thunder. If Maka was rain, he was wind. But if Maka was a hurricane, well… he was a tornado.

They were parallel, carving their own ways. Though their minds clouded with doubt and their soul rained in misery, he knew they were still connected. She covered her face with his scarf, and their hands gripped each other's tighter as she unleashed a little more of her wrath, harder, and harder, and harder until she had none left to spill. Until she was chrysalism with him.

The storm didn't pass quite yet. It didn't need to pass since she thrived in its eye.

He had faith she still does- with or without him.