Yay fourth chapter! Alright, here's the deal, folks: I've decided to make this an eight-part story in honor of Kidd (who, I'm sorry to say, will not make his appearance in this story. Darn). The story was supposed to be nine chapters, but I guess I'll just make the next update extra-long.
By the way, I used the English translation of Shinigami's "mirror" number, or at least the translation used by the scanlators in Chapter 63.
A quick thanks to Raven AK and narsaksas, and to all of my second-time reviewers. Thank you so much, guys, I really appreciate your thoughts!
"It's the Black Blood," Tsubaki announced, closing the book she and Blair had retrieved from Maka's room. "It's formed a presence within his soul and taken possession of him."
"A presence?" Black Star asked from his perch on the arm of Soul and Maka's couch. For a moment, the ninja-in-training forgot that he was dabbing a wet cloth on Soul's forehead, and let the cloth slide halfway down his friend's face as he thought, finger posed dramatically under his chin. Then, noticing the cloth again, Black Star returned to wiping Soul's forehead and asked, "You mean like another soul?"
"Not quite," Tsubaki explained. "It's not a separate soul, at least not yet, but that's why it's possessing Soul. It's trying to break free and create its own corporeal form."
"A body?" Blair asked. The cat had resumed feline form and settled on Maka's chest, intent on keeping her technician friend warm during her mental ordeal.
"Exactly. You see, the Black Blood inside of Soul has already proven to produce a rather large presence, such as in the case of Ragnarok. Even so, it shouldn't be able to break free on its own. An enormous stress must be applied to weaken the host soul. Again, going back to Ragnarok's case, Medusa's abuse weakened Chrona's soul. With Soul, though, I think the cause lies in how vulnerable his soul is."
"Vulnerable?" Blair asked.
Tsubaki thought for a moment. "Well, here's how I think of it. I've never visited Black Star's soul, and he's never visited mine." Black Star spluttered at the sudden comparison, beginning to volunteer to visit her soul when Tsubaki shushed him with a glance. Blair stared at the girl, amazed that the weapon could silence her loud-mouthed meister like that, and Tsubaki smiled a bit to herself. "There's a reason for that. Allowing someone into your soul, even someone close, poses an enormous risk. Even a casual comment from the visitor can cause a change in the soul and damage it. Even so, Soul allows Maka into his soul on an almost regular basis, with practically every resonance and now, apparently, through his dreams."
"What? They were sleeping when they went into his soul?" Blair asked, intrigued.
Tsubaki shook her head lightly. "Well, that's what I think. How else do you explain them laying on the couch in their pajamas? Anyway, Soul is especially susceptible to the Black Blood because of Maka's visits to his soul. It appears his soul is exceptionally vulnerable at the moment— why I'm not sure— so the Black Blood is acting now." Well, Tsubaki had an idea as to why Soul was vulnerable at the moment, but she couldn't be sure....
"I see." Black Star nodded to himself. Then he perked up. "So, if the Black Blood does get its own body, I can just kick its ass, right?"
Tsubaki stared at her tech for a moment before turning away and bursting into exasperated tears. So straightforward... and dumb... "Sure, Black Star, but I'm not sure we want it to go that far…."
Blair suddenly perked her ears. "Hey, Tsubaki, shouldn't you tell Shinigami about this?"
"Oh, yes! Black Star?"
The meister, who had been striking some sort of pose on the arm of the couch, looked over at her and then grinned hugely. It sent a shudder down Tsubaki's spine.
"Umm, could you watch these guys for me while I report to Shinigami, please?"
"Leave it to me!" Black Star half-shouted, throwing her a rather theatrical salute. She smiled, thinking to herself how glad she was that Blair was there, as she walked into the bathroom to look for a mirror.
What Tsubaki did not tell Black Star was the possibility that the presence of the Black Blood could actually devour its host soul, or any other available soul, for that matter. Even if that happened, she and Black Star could do absolutely nothing to stop it, not without weakening Soul even further.
Tsubaki fought back the tears that came unbidden with that thought. No, she had to believe in her friends. Maka would never allow something like this to beat her, and Soul would stand with her until the very end.
Nevertheless, the ring accompanying Shinigami's number sounded more ominous than ever:
Kill. Kill. Kill. Die. Die. Die.
Maka felt exhausted. Whether she moved her body, or her body moved itself, her body was still moving. This dance was draining her of strength. As she twirled past Soul for what seemed the thousandth time, she exchanged covert, anxious, frantic looks with him. Her hands had been stained red by now, making her stomach flop to even look at them, but still he played. Soul was fading fast, she knew; his eyes had dimmed, and he no longer struggled feebly against the red chains on his wrists. Maka had to do something before they both ran out of energy.
As she sashayed past the imp once more, Maka glared at the beast. The imp slid his finger back and forth, his eyes and teeth glittering with the light from the room's many candles. The imp seemed to enjoy toying with his dancer and piano player, as if she and Soul had volunteered to perform this private show for him. Anger burned hot in her chest as Maka gritted her teeth.
"What do you want from us?" Maka demanded.
The imp's eyes slid over to focus on her. "That's easy enough. I want out."
"Out?" Maka asked, eyes narrowing.
"Out into the real world, with my own, unshared body," the oni said. His voice seemed to curl menacingly in the air, like snaking trails of invisible smoke.
Soul growled from the piano bench, "I'll never give you my body! I'll never let you out of here!"
Suddenly, the oni's finger stopped moving, and he clicked his fingers on his other hand. Soul's hands slammed against the piano keys, ending the seething song with a sudden attack of sound. Only after his fingers crashed against the keys did Soul let out a cry of pain, and Maka's heart seized, wondering how he had endured it all until now.
Maka suddenly stopped spinning, her body returning to her control, although her feet remained planted firmly on the ground, anchored there by some unseen, unbreakable force.
With an expression colder than ice, the oni slowly stood and walked toward her. Every one of Maka's nerves screamed at her to run, but she found that she could not move, could not even turn away as the oni approached.
"Maka, run!! Get away from him! Maka!!" When she didn't move, she heard Soul switch tactics. "If you touch my tech, you bastard, you won't live long enough to regret it! Get away from her!"
In the background, Maka heard her heart pounding in her chest, heard Soul spluttering threats, thought she heard Black Star talking with Tsubaki… but for a moment, all she focused on was the approaching sound of the oni's ragged breath.
When the imp stopped just two feet from her, he lifted a giant finger and gently touched her forehead. For a long second, Maka stared at him, uncomprehending.
In the next second, the imp had disappeared, leaving Soul standing in front of her in his usual pinstriped suit. The visage was flawless, down to every unkempt white hair, except this wasn't Soul. Soul remained sitting on the piano bench, manacled and pajama-clad. Maka swallowed air; something about this second transformation made her knees weak.
The imp, however, found it hilarious. For a long minute, the Black Room was completely silent except for the imp's raucous rendition of Soul's laugh. Maka could only watch as these loud guffaws subsided into amused chuckles. This counterfeit Soul glanced at his real counterpart, who was straining against the manacles to see what was happening. "Lucky Soul," the oni grunted. Soul's teeth ground together in a grimace.
The Black Room was silent, the air practically soaked with apprehension, for the next few minutes as the oni returned his apprising gaze to Maka.
"All I need is right here," said this Soul-who-was-not Soul.
Maka struggled in vain to back away.
Then the oni leaned in and stole a kiss.
Author's Note: Yes, I realize that the imp looking like Soul is not a particularly original idea, and neither is that ending for that matter. BUT! There are original reasons behind these actions! (No, it's not just a dramatic flourish or because I wanted Maka to squirm.) So don't give up on me yet because those reasons will be explained... da da da dum... in the chapters to come! (That, my friends, is a dramatic flourish!)