When Maka got home two days later, Spirit was sitting in his favorite armchair in the living room. A cup of Maka's favorite tea was sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch, and she took it and sat down without missing a beat. "You knew I was coming?" she asked, hoping that it sounded offhanded enough.

"I did," replied Spirit, and he took a sip of his own tea. "I had someone be on the lookout for you."

"Noah?"

"Good guess."

Maka gripped her cup tighter. "So you've known where I was the whole time?"

Spirit sighed and set down his cup. "Yes, sweetheart. I wish you hadn't met him, though."

She took a long sip out of her mug before responding, taking the time to choose her words. The tea burnt her tongue, grounding her thoughts. "He's not a danger to me, papa, no matter what you did to my soul."

Again Spirit sighed. "So you found that out? Is that what you were doing at Stein's place yesterday?"

Maka nodded. "Just to confirm." Her eyes stayed trained on her father. "But he's not going to hurt me. If you just reverse it, take the recipe off of my soul, you wouldn't even have to worry at all about it–"

"It's not about the recipe."

Their eyes met, daughter to father, and what Maka saw in Spirit's eyes was frightening. He was steeled and unwavering, unlike the father she had known all this time; the Spirit that Maka grew up with was a flake, noncommittal and skittish to the core. To see him in this light, as such a different person, made her heart sink and her head spin.

Or... was something else making her head spin?

Even after taking a deep breath, Maka's world still was hazy and tilting. A jolt of adrenaline was pumped into her bloodstream, and her eyes snapped back up to Spirit's, focusing away from the spinning floor. "You didn't...?" she asked, question unfinished.

Spirit stood up and walked to Maka's side just as she slumped onto the couch, barely conscious any longer. Her mug slipped from her loose fingers, smashing on the floor. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, sounding truly remorseful. "It isn't about the recipe. It wasn't, at least. It never was supposed to be, but somehow I got more invested in this life than I expected." His fingers gently brushed Maka's bangs away from her eyes. "I'm sorry, princess. Everything just fell into place so suddenly."

The last things that Maka could process before slipping into darkness were the warmth of her father's kiss against her forehead, just like he used to do when she was sick, and a whisper of "I'm sorry."

Then it was all black, the same color as Soul's blood.

"Hey, Soul!"

Soul startled slightly, broken out of his thoughts as he wandered through Death City. He looked around, and down the street he saw Kilik. The demon waved his arm at Soul, trying to catch his attention, so he sighed and walked over. "You need something?"

Kilik scoffed. "You looked like you were about to walk into traffic, man. What's eating you?" When Soul shrugged as his only response, Kilik took a different approach, one that he suspected would push a few buttons. "Where's your human girl, by the way? Last time I saw you, it looked like you weren't ever gonna let her out of your sight."

Judging by the way that Soul tensed up, Kilik could tell that he had hit a nerve, exactly as he had planned. "She's gone for a while," grumbled Soul, making a point to look away from the other demon. "She went to try to make peace with her dad."

"Her dad?" echoed Kilik, looking at Soul strangely. "Then what's got your panties in a twist? She'll be back soon enough."

Soul flinched again. "It's not that simple," he ground out between his teeth, now glaring at Kilik. "Her dad is the one who fucked with her soul–" Kilik whistled and grimaced. "–and he's somehow tied in with the guy who made me, too. Last I saw, he wasn't thrilled that she was spending time around me. There's a good chance that shit's gonna go down one way or another, and she's gonna be smack dab in the middle of it. And I'm not there." The last phrase was spat out as if it tasted foul, as if it was something that Soul couldn't stand.

"So, why don't you just go to her? Even a blind guy can tell you're head over heels for her."

Soul groaned. "Am I that transparent?"

"Like water, man."

"Lovely." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Maybe I'm just overthinking it. Maybe Eibon, her dad, whoever, isn't gonna do anything to her, she'll spout her sappy friendship stuff at him, and all this is gonna work out okay."

Kilik watched Soul's hands fall limp by his sides after finishing his thoughts. He didn't even believe what he was saying. "Soul, listen," said Kilik. "I think you should follow your instincts on this one. You haven't survived this long on just luck. He jeopardized her soul, played with it for his own gain, whatever the reason. Are you really sure he's just got her best interests in mind? Can you actually believe that?"

He really couldn't. And that was terrifying.

It took three hours to find them.

The sun was setting over the desert horizon, a few miles outside of Death City, when Soul found the entrance to Spirit's hideout, shadow masters and Kilik in tow. Maka's house had been predictably empty, although Soul had held out a bit of hope that he had nothing to worry about. There were, however, slight traces of spells lingering throughout the house, remnants of observation charms Spirit had clumsily put up before disappearing.

It was those traces that led them to Spirit, thanks to Tsubaki. She had gathered all the remnants of the spells and used them to gather Spirit's magical "essence," unique as a human's fingerprint. False positives popped up all over town, in places that Spirit had been within the past few days, but it eventually led them out of the city and into the desert.

The hideout looked more like a bomb shelter than anything else from the outside.

Soul pried open the wooden door in the ground, letting it fall open to the dirt with a loud thump. Sparing only a moment to look inside, Soul dropped down, landing inside and glancing around.

Huh. It really was a bomb shelter, or it started as one. Go figure.

The inside was extremely bare, spare for a few shelves filled with dusty books. While the others dropped down, Soul made his way to the other side, where a metal door stood out against the wall. Without waiting, he wrenched the door open and pressed forward into a dark tunnel. The four had walked for less than a minute before Soul hit another door in the dark. He swore quietly and the whole group stepped back so the door could swing towards them.

It led to a surprisingly spacious room that resembled a mix between a library and a laboratory. In the center was Maka, still and on her back on a table littered with glyphs and runic circles.

Without hesitation, Soul closed the gap between them and lifted Maka's shoulders off of the table. Her eyes were shut, as if she were asleep, but her skin was still warm. She was alive. That was a good start. He pulled her tight against his chest and thanked whatever was out there that he had gotten there in time.

"You're a bit earlier than I expected, but that's more than alright."

Soul gently laid Maka back down before snarling and turning to face the source of the voice. "Eibon," he spat in greeting.

Spirit stepped out from behind a bookshelf on the far side of the room. "Soul," he replied. "Whether it was for her or for the recipe, I'm glad you could make it."

Soul's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth. "What did you do to Maka?" he growled, standing protectively in front of her. His companions shifted to stand closer, within acting distance if anything happened. "She's your daughter, or was that an act, too? That's a dick move, you know. She really loves you."

"She's just asleep right now," said Spirit, walking toward some sort of table-length box covered with a sheet. "And it wasn't an act; I love her, too. The circumstances are just unfortunate. It was bad luck that I am in the position of her father, and worse that she met you." Soul flinched back, but Spirit continued. "You're right, I am Eibon. But this body has been mine for sixteen years now, so for the majority of Maka's life, I have been her father. I wasn't ready to die when I did seventy four years ago, and when Spirit Albarn had a heart attack while visiting my old home with his wife... Well, I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity."

Soul's stomach lurched. "So you stole his body?" he asked, feeling ill at the thought.

Spirit tilted his head and grimaced. "You could call it that, I suppose," he mused. "But Spirit Albarn did die back then; I simply... moved in to an empty space. Of course, I was not him, and try as I might I couldn't be him, good at acting or not. His wife –my ex-wife, I suppose– was unable to stay in love with me when Spirit's personality changed so wildly, so I ended up tearing apart Maka's family. Soon after the divorce, I transferred the recipe to Maka's soul. She was still young enough to not notice much of a difference in me, and she trusted me blindly. She was supposed to be a pawn for me, a means to an end and nothing more." He gazed forlornly at Maka then, still and spellbound. "I didn't mean to get attached to her, to care for her, but it happened anyway."

"Then why are you doing this?" ground out Soul, gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to lunge at Spirit, to tear him apart. "If you care about her, you should have just let her be!"

"I can't do that," stated Spirit, and his warm tone turned chilly. "I may love Maka, but she is not my child. I must save my child."

It felt like time froze for a moment, and then Soul was shouting. "What the hell are you talking about?! You don't have a child! I was there! I never saw you with a kid, and you never left your goddamn lab! All you wanted to do was experiment on me, and you were mad. Absolutely bonkers, off your rocker. It was a fucking miracle I managed to escape, you had so many things designed to keep things out!"

Spirit watched Soul with a collected expression. "You're not entirely wrong," he said, and his fingers brushed the edges of the cloth covering the box. "When you were there, my child was not. They couldn't be, that's not how it worked." He leveled his gaze at Soul once again. "Would you like to hear their story?"

There was no other choice but to say yes, was there?

So Spirit began.

"You weren't there to see what led up to your creation. I had been dabbling in all things demonic for years before, and being human, that drew all sorts of attention to me. One such source of attention was a female demon named Medusa. She seemed very interested in my experiments, and she spent most of her time in my lab with me. It was an amazing time; I had never had someone understand my research before that time, and I'm sure I'll never experience it again. I fell in love with her, and she led me to believe that she was in love with me, too. But she was just using me for her own experiment.

"It turned out that Medusa had an interest in halfbreeds. She wanted to have a half-human half-demon test subject, something to experiment on until she was satisfied with the results. She used me to get that child. And she deemed it a failure. The child, my child, Crona, was not satisfactory to Medusa. They were chaotic and unstable, even from birth, thanks to their halfling body; you see, a half-demon body cannot handle the strain of a demonic soul, and it drove poor Crona to madness. There was very little chance to mold and control them, and this was not what Medusa needed. She wanted a pliable subject, something she could twist into whatever she needed. So, she disposed of Crona and left me crying over my child's body.

"That's when it dawned on me. I had a vast collection of demonic parts from past experiments. I could give Crona a proper body, one that could support their soul. I set to work before their soul could decay, and within a full day I had a shell ready. Crona would live again. Crona could have a proper life in a body that suited them, and they would not have to bend to Medusa's abuse. I introduced their soul into the body.

"You, Soul... the unwanted soul, as you pulled your name from... you were the hitch in my plan, an unaccounted for possibility that should never have happened. The shock of Crona's soul being introduced to the body let off unexpectedly large amounts of magical energy, and with it all being forced into one body's worth of space, it condensed into what became your soul. You stole my child from me, became the dominant of the two souls in the body, and eventually suppressed Crona completely. That is the story in the recipe, Soul. Not only what parts created you, but how you came to illegitimately be."

Spirit jerked his hand, and the cover flew away, revealing a glass case beneath. In it laid a pale body with lavender hair swathed in conservative black robes. Spirit placed both hands on a spell circle that was etched into the top of the glass, and blue sparks erupted against his palms. "Today," he breathed, "I take back my child's soul."

Maka shot upright, suddenly breathing heavily. "Soul?" she gasped, eyes wide as they swung around, taking in the room. "Why are you here– where is here?" Soul simply gathered her in his arms and glared at Spirit without answering, waiting for him to explain his actions.

"I'm sorry, princess," said Spirit, and his voice was truly remorseful. "But to free my child's soul, Crona's soul, from that mistake of a creation, your soul's power is necessary. The recipe and your soul; together they are enough to eliminate Soul from existence, finally letting Crona be free again." He smiled sadly, opening the glass case and hoisting Crona's body into his arms. "I'm sorry that your life has to be forfeit for this."

Soul snapped.

He lunged at Spirit from across the room, teeth ripping into his own arm and preparing blood blades mid-dash, but Black*Star was faster. He hooked his arms around Soul's and yanked back, pulling Soul down to the ground. Spirit looked down at Soul with disdain before stepping past them, past Maka, past Tsubaki and Kilik, to stand in the doorway that led to the shelter. "I'll be waiting up there," he said. "The rest of you may kill me later if you wish. I'm sure I deserve it. But Crona will live again." With that, Spirit disappeared into the shadows and the door swung shut.

It was quiet in the room. Soul no longer struggled against Black*Star's grip, Maka sat stunned on the table, and Kilik and Tsubaki looked at each other hopelessly.

Soul broke the silence when he stood up. "Thanks, 'Star," he grunted. "I appreciate it."

Black*Star sighed and pushed himself off the floor. "Man, this is just the shittiest situation," he groaned. "I wanted to let you tear him to shreds –he's such a scumbag, nothing would've made me happier– but man, whenever you planned on breaking your vow to not actually kill in front of Maka, I don't think that her old man is the one to do it with."

"Yeah," muttered Soul, and he scooched next to Maka on the table. Black*Star shot Tsubaki a helpless look, and she gestured for him to come to her side.

"I think we need to let them have a bit of privacy, or as much as we can," she said, and it was clear that she was fighting back tears. Kilik and Black*Star nodded numbly, and the three fell back to a far corner.

Before silence could really settle back in, Soul explained to Maka what Spirit, Eibon, had revealed. Maka closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Soul," she whispered. "If you hadn't met me, you wouldn't be in this situation. You would've moved past Death City by now, and my papa would be none the wiser. We wouldn't be waiting for my soul to expire and kill us both." Her voice hitched, unable to fight back cracking any more, and the first of many tears spilled down Maka's cheeks.

Soul shook his head and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away Maka's tears. "Shhh. No. Don't be sorry," he said. His lips pressed against her cheek, "I don't care, Maka," her nose, "I don't want to have left Death City," and her forehead. "I don't regret a minute of it, okay? Because I got to meet you, and you taught me so much. You taught me what it was like to be accepted, to actually relax, to care about someone. And I wouldn't trade that for anything. I stopped caring about the recipe a while back, as long as I have you near me." For the second time, his lips brushed against hers, soft and pleading for her to understand. "Okay, Maka?"

Through her tears, Maka nodded. She tried to touch Soul's cheek, to cradle his head against her, but her arm flopped limply by her side. Soul grimaced and lifted her arm for her, leaning into her touch.

"There's probably not much time left before your soul burns itself out," he sighed, pressing a kiss to the inside of Maka's wrist. "I guess I should get started now." Soul hopped off of the table after setting Maka's arm back down gently onto the table. "Kilik, could you give me a hand over here?"

Maka stammered, trying to ask what Soul was planning, but her head felt woozy. The words simply didn't come out.

Kilik ran over, quickly standing by Soul. He nodded at whatever he was told, secrets whispered in hushed tones, but his expression was pained, as if he wasn't completely confident in whatever Soul planned. Still, he took Soul's hand when it was held out for a handshake, and Soul sincerely thanked him.

"Thanks, man. It means everything to me."

Before Maka could register his movement, Kilik was behind Maka, hands on her shoulders steadying her. In front of her, Soul unbuttoned the his shirt halfway down, then carefully cut his left arm with his fingernails and smeared the black blood into his right hand. The blood was then wiped across his clavicle.

Before he did any more, Soul smiled at Maka, and it was then that her stomach plummeted.

It took a colossal effort, but Maka forced out words from her throat. "What... are you doing with that blood, Soul?" she gasped, eying the fresh amount he swiped onto his index finger. She raised one shaky arm and grabbed his, futilely trying to stem the bleeding.

His left hand covered hers, and somehow it didn't feel so cold to Maka's touch. "I'm sorry I didn't do this earlier," he said. "You're suffering, and it's my fault." His right hand moved to write on his chest, the black streaking ominously across his skin. "This time with you really was the best it could've been for me, Maka. Just... remember that, okay?" He sighed as he finished writing the spell. "Even if my name was a mistake, just like my existence, at least I can go feeling good about myself." He locked eyes with Kilik, who nodded and tightened his grip on Maka, and a faint golden glow surrounded his hands on her shoulders.

She saw the writing too late.

Before she could cry out, Kilik had already absorbed and projected the Grigori Soul's protection onto Maka, fortifying her soul against the backlash of Soul's decision, and the spell was cast.

Frailty, thy name is Soul.

His body collapsed to ash before her eyes, and even through her exhaustion, Maka screamed.

Kilik released her shoulders, and Maka scrambled forward –when had she gotten that strength back?–, dropping off the table to kneel in front of the pile of dust that was once Soul. She screamed obscenities, cursing his name, her father, the world, and her tears pooled on the floor.

Tsubaki and Black*Star cautiously approached, and Tsubaki laid a hand on Maka's shoulder. "He broke the spell," she whispered, but even whispers couldn't hide the hitches in her voice as she cried. "Maka, he saved you."

"I don't care!" Maka's scream was shrill, and her voice cracked harshly. "It doesn't matter if he saved me, he isn't here!" Her fist slammed into the concrete floor, and she keened. "Soul, you bastard!"

Maka's cries abruptly halted when a round bubble, glowing a pale blue, shimmered and rose up from the ashes. Tsubaki's breath caught in her throat, and Black*Star voiced what she could not say. "It's... his soul." With that, Maka's hands shot out, grabbing the orb and cradling it against her chest. Instead of screaming, instead she began to hiccup, tears streaming freely down her cheeks.

Tsubaki opened her mouth to speak, to comfort Maka, but a black mass burst forth from the ashes similar to the previous soul but more chaotic. It didn't float gently upward, instead flinging itself around the room, knocking into anything in its way. Kilik was almost knocked aside by its erratic flight, but as quickly as it appeared the second soul disappeared through the door out with a shloop.

Far away, a scream could be heard.

Maka tried to stem her tears, wiping them away with one hand while the other cradled what was left of Soul. Her tears mixed with the drying blood on her hand, smudging black across her cheeks and letting it drip down her wrist.

His blood?

Maka's head snapped up, eyes wild, and she looked up to Tsubaki. "His blood," she cried, waving around her hand for emphasis. "We have his blood. Tsubaki, if you help me, we might be able to–!"

Tsubaki caught on immediately, although she spared a concerned glance to the door. "It could work," she breathed, eying the blood on Maka's hand. "It could, if there's enough blood. My soul isn't compatible with his spell I'm sure, but if it just has to be the catalyst to fix something, return it to how it was, just maybe..."

Maka nodded furiously, and with a bit of reluctance she buried the soul back into the ashes, covering it carefully. Both hands now free, she let her tears, still flowing, fall into her bloody hand while the other mixed them, creating a dark mixture of tears and blood. Maka's hand trembled as she wrote, but the letters were legible. Tsubaki held her palms over the makeshift spell target, and they glowed a warm yellow.

"Please," whispered Maka, "come back. Soul, please come back."

Frailty, thy name is Soul.

There was no reaction for a few seconds, and Maka was ready to redouble her efforts in crying, but then the ashes began to shift. And swirl. And take a form.

"Soul!"

Just as he fully emerged, barely put back together again, Soul was knocked over by Maka throwing herself onto him. His breath, hardly restarted, hitched for a moment, and then he pulled her tightly against himself, hugging her just as snugly as she did to him. "I'm back," he murmured into her hair, and Maka nodded against his shoulder, nestling her head against him.

Kilik cleared his throat after a minute had passed. "Ehem. Sorry to interrupt, and I actually mean that since this is pretty touching, but we probably have a situation to deal with upstairs." He looked toward the door, and faint crashes and screams could be heard through it. "I think Eibon is having a rough time."

Tears barely halted, Maka untangled herself from Soul and they both stood.

It was time to face Spirit, alive and well.

But they didn't expect him to come to them. The door suddenly slammed open, making everyone jump, and Spirit stumbled through. He looked absolutely ragged; his black jacket was torn down one sleeve, his pants were coated in dust and similarly ripped, and blood dripped from his temple and down his arm. His eyes were wild, sad and frightened. "Crona," he gasped, and then cried out in pain. "I was too late. Crona is– they're gone, this isn't them, it's nothing but madness–!" Spirit then collapsed onto the floor, writhing. Maka ran to his side, Soul reluctantly following. Spirit looked at Maka and winced. "I'm so sorry, Maka," he groaned, eyes screwing shut. "It was a mistake, it isn't even a soul anymore, I should never have..." His voice trailed off and his eyes snapped back open, staring at Maka and then Soul. "You're both...?" he coughed, and then he smiled. "Good. Maybe I didn't make as horrible of a mistake as I had thought. At least I can go knowing that."

Maka shook her head and grabbed at Spirit's hand. "Papa, you aren't going anywhere!" she cried, seemingly forgetting that this same man had tried to kill her and had killed Soul. "What happened? What happened to Crona's soul?"

Soul answered for Spirit. "It went in him," he croaked, throat feeling tight. The way that Spirit writhed was all too familiar, reminding Soul of how he used to lose control of his body in his first few years. "Crona's soul is taking over Spirit's body, and it's going to kill him. And then it will burn out itself; it can't survive in a human body."

Maka looked wildly to Spirit, pleading for him to deny Soul's words, but he grimaced and confirmed it. Crona's soul had missed its target body with its erratic movements, and it had forced its way into Spirit's body instead. "I came down here hoping that your friends would have mercy and kill us together," he rasped. "I didn't expect to find either of you alive, but I don't have the time to listen to how this came about. I'm just... glad."

Black*Star stepped forward, pushing past Kilik to stand at Spirit's feet. He eyed the man coldly, and waited for a spastic fit to subside before he spoke. "Old man, you're a gonner," he said, and while Maka protested tearfully Spirit nodded. "And you want to let that other thing die, too." Another nod. "I'll help you. Not because I give a rat's ass about you, or because I think you deserve it, but because I don't want that thing to escape, and I don't want Maka to have to watch." Shadows began to slither from the hallway into the room's light, and they lashed Spirit to the floor. "We'll make sure it burns out, so you can go resting easy." He looked to Soul, and nodded his head towards Maka. "Take her. You don't want her here for this, right?"

He was right. Soul gathered Maka in his arms despite her protests, and he left through the door, slamming it shut behind him.

In a way, three beings died that day. Spirit Albarn's body was finally put to rest; the scientist Eibon was released from his personal life in purgatory; and Crona, the half-demon that was not meant to exist, fizzled out of existence.

In the moment that Spirit, Eibon, however he was to be seen, passed on, Maka was overcome with what felt like decades of mourning being lifted away.