"I need to run a few errands," Tsubaki says later that afternoon as she tosses a cashmere scarf over her shoulder. "It may take me a while, so please don't be alarmed if I don't return until late tonight."

"Do you need any help?" Soul asks. "Maka's back at the books and she's probably going to be dead to the world for a while, so I could tag along if you wanted -"

"No, no I'm sure I'll be fine," Tsubaki says quickly. "Thank you for the offer though." She finishes lacing up her heeled boots and straightens up, accepting his offering of an umbrella. "There is lasagna in the fridge if you'd like to heat that up for dinner."

"Sure," Soul says, "thanks," and with a brief smile she's off, closing the door behind her.

Well, now what? It's raining, so the plants don't need to be watered outside. He's already finished all of the other little assignments Tsubaki gave him for her business. Maka's holed up in Tsubaki's study, pouring over the history books, and he has the sinking feeling that it would result more in him staring at the furrow in her brow and trailing his gaze up and down the curve of her spine instead of actually being useful.

Which normally wouldn't be that big of a deal - lord knows that there'd been enough times in the past where he'd abandoned research for napping, lulled to sleep by the boring passages and the sound of turning pages, and Maka tends to block everything out when she's reading. But she hadn't really spoken to him all morning, not after Tsubaki's very unnecessary suggestions, and he's too afraid to approach her about it.

He should have never fallen asleep beside her last night. It only left him feeling more lonely when he woke up without her there.

Head muddled with conflicting feelings of longing and uncertainty, he decides to head to the basement to dig out the bulbs that Tsubaki had mentioned wanting to plant later this week in the rain-softened dirt.

The light fizzles and blinks before glaring bright, illuminating the tidy piles of junk and neatly stacked boxes. His eyes scan for the bright green container she described to him, and fall upon the trapdoor.

Something has him walking to it and unlatching it - a suspicion that has been brewing in the back of his mind for a while now. Trust your instincts, Maka always tells him, and he's had enough experience by now to know she's right.

He descends the ladder, hand feeling for the pouch of salt on his belt. The passageway is much the same as it was before, though a little colder, and it's not long before he comes to the small room at the end. The wood of the door is well-worn under his palms, and he prays that he doesn't find what he thinks is behind it as he pushes it open.

The slant of light reveals the same shelves, bookshelves, writing desk -

The jar is gone.

Maybe she's just moved it. Maybe it's not her brother that's been killing people lately - but where would she put it?

He begins to move around the room, noting shards of glass from knocked over vials of herbs and the scratches on the wall that bisect some of the warding symbols, which no longer glow or pulse with magic. Someone broke in and took it, he deduces - someone who knew enough about witchcraft to know exactly how to disable the spells guarding her brother's soul.

Why did she keep this a secret? Who would have taken it, and why?

He rushes back to the basement, back up the stairs to the house. "Maka?" he calls, making a beeline for Tsubaki's study. "Maka?"

She hasn't even heard him, still zoned out in a book. "Maka," he says urgently, striding over to her.

She jumps as he slaps a hand down in front of her, and glares up at him. "What, Soul, I'm trying to -"

"I know who the ghost is," he interrupts, already tugging her up out of her chair.

"What? Who?" she asks as he pulls her along the hallway. He doesn't answer, just guides her quickly down to the basement and further to the small room. He pauses at the doorframe, and points at the conspicuously bare stand.

Maka stares, darting quick glances back and forth between him and the distinct lack of soul on the table. She's about to say something when they hear the garage door open above them.

They freeze, looking at each other with wide eyes, before whirling to face the ladder as someone comes down it.

Tsubaki turns, and Soul watches as her expression cycles from shock to anger to fear before it melts away and forms the impenetrable mask he's learned to associate with her. "What are you doing down here?" she asks, almost sadly.

"Tsubaki..." Maka steps forward, and Soul can see the way her sleeves come up to cover her hands as she reaches for the pocket knife she stores in them. "Where's Masamune?"

Tsubaki regards her, face impassive, looking not at all intimidated as Maka takes another threatening step.

"I'll ask you again - where is Masamune?" Maka demands. Soul's drifted alongside her unconsciously, her wariness making him finger his own blade.

"I had this under control," Tsubaki says quietly, ignoring them. "You didn't need to get yourself involved, but you insisted -"

"Tsubaki. Where. Is. Masamune."

"I'd suggest you stop there," Tsubaki says suddenly, halting Maka's slow advance. "I don't want to hurt you."

Maka swells with anger and Soul places a hand in front of her, blocking her progress. "How long has he been gone, Tsubaki?" he asks lowly. "Why didn't you tell us?"

She lifts her chin, the arch of her neck a proud line, but Soul can see the tremble in her lips as she says, "I told you, I had this under control. I didn't need your help -"

"Under control?!" Maka bursts out. "A man and one of your witches murdered, and you call that under control?"

Tsubaki's eyes are bright, too bright, but no tears grace her cheeks as she glares back. "That wasn't -"

"Or did you know it was going to happen, if it was all 'under control' -"

"No!" Tsubaki spits, and both of them take a step back at the venom in her tone. "This is why I didn't tell you - because I knew, despite all I've done for you, despite advising you, and taking you in, and saving your life, you'd immediately decide I was the culprit, all because I'm a witch!"

She raises her hands, and a powerful force pushes them back down the passageway, shoves them into the small room. "I'm sorry," Tsubaki says, and invisible chains cinch Soul's wrists to Maka's, forcing them back to back. Tsubaki steps past their struggling and picks up the spellbook on the writing desk, sounding genuinely contrite when she says, "I just don't have the time to explain it to you, not right now. I promise that when I come back after rescuing Masamune from Mabaa, we'll be able to talk."

"Tsubaki -!"

The door clicks behind her, and Soul and Maka are left in the darkness.

"Good going, Maka," Soul gripes. "Fucking piss her off more, why don't you -"

"I wasn't accusing her!" she snaps. "I was just trying to point out that she clearly didn't have anything under control, and that we could have helped, not - not call her a murderer!" He yelps in pain as she nearly wrenches his shoulder out of its socket trying to pry her wrist away from his. "Ugh, why did she have to use magic? There's no way we can break free of these."

"Guess we're stuck then," he says, sighing.

"Don't sound so nonchalant! She's clearly going to do something dangerous - we have to help her!"

"How?"

"Just - follow my lead."

Sharp boney shoulders press into the middle of his back as they attempt to stand up, using each other to balance against. She tugs them over to the door, shuffling so she can get a hand around the doorknob, and the back of her wrist brushes against his as she attempts to twist it.

Unsurprisingly, it's locked. Maka swears, and kicks the door hard. It doesn't budge.

"Soul, help me," she demands, smashing her foot against the wood.

"It's not gonna work," he points out, but gives a halfhearted kick. Unsurprisingly, the door remains as solid as ever, though his toes aren't happy about the abuse.

"Argh!" Maka cries, leveling her frustrations out on the wood. "She doesn't understand how dangerous poltergeists are, and thrown spells don't work against ghosts like they do people! She's going to get herself killed!"

"Hey," Soul says sternly, fumbling for her hand. He can't really hold it with the way their wrists are held together, but he manages to partially lace his fingers with hers. "Tsubaki is pretty powerful, and she was there when we told everyone how to deal with ghost. I'm sure she'll be able to hold her own."

She pauses, knee half-raised to kick again. "…Am I that bad?" she asks, sounding hurt and vulnerable. "I didn't - I know I wasn't the nicest when we first met her but if she had told us I wouldn't have - I didn't think it was her -"

"You do kind of have a thing against witches, and other monsters," Soul says truthfully. Her shoulders slump, and he adds, "But I think Tsubaki is also dealing with issues of her own. I thought that she'd been acting a little…weird, jumpy and distracted, but we don't know her well, so…"

"I'm such an asshole," she mutters. "It's all my fault that she didn't talk to us -"

"Maka, no, stop it." He gives her fingers a little shake. "Tsubaki decided whether to tell us or not. She knew we wanted to help, and she chose not to use it. It was her choice. And I'm not sure if she would have said anything even if we weren't hunters - she didn't say anything to her coven, even though they -"

Footsteps sound above them, and they look at each other, before attacking the door with renewed fervor. "Help!" Maka yells, Soul adding his own voice to her cries. "We're trapped down here!"

Presently they hear tumping down the rungs - many of them. Voices float through the crack at the bottom of the door, sounding like arguing.

"Hey! Let us out!"

"-if Tsubaki left them in there, then -"

"Eruka? Jackie?"

A pause, and then, "The hunters?"

"Listen, Tsubaki locked us up and bound us together and she's going after the ghost herself, you have to free us so that we can help her!"

There's a muttered conversation outside the door, then chanting and the door springs open. He squints in the sudden light, trying to make out the three witches in front of him. All of them look terrified, staring at them with wide eyes. Jackie favors her left arm, Kim's hands are crumpled into furious fists, and Eruka's face is pinched with fear and anger.

Kim reaches out for their wrists, and adopts a look of concentration; the invisible chains loosen, and Soul's able to pull his hands away from Maka's, wringing them out.

"We have to go after her," Maka's saying, already moving towards the ladder. "She doesn't know what she's getting into -"

"What are we getting into?" Eruka asks somewhat meekly as they follow her up.

"What happened to your arm?" Soul asks Jackie as Maka disappears into the main part of the house.

She looks shaken, face pale, but her voice is steady when she says, "The ghost. It showed up at the tea shop when we were closing up - we couldn't salt the area there, obviously. It took a swipe at me before we were able to make it disappear."

"We called Eruka, tried calling Tsubaki but her phone was off, so we came here instead…"

"She's going after the Mabaa coven," Soul says. "She thinks that…" He hesitates. "She thinks they're connected with the ghost, somehow."

"It didn't sound like it was going to be a social visit either," Maka says, returning with their weaponry and equipment. "Do you know where the coven's headquarters are? Or where Tsubaki would most likely head for?"

Jackie nods. "We can take you with us. But you need to promise that you won't hurt any of the witches there."

"You don't think that they might have something to do with the murders?"

"No way! They're not that bad." Kim crosses her arms. "I know Tsubaki has something against witches who borrow their powers from demons, but not everyone is as lucky as she and I are, or have as much time as Jackie does to learn."

"And they really do take care of their apprentices," Jackie adds. "There's enough of them so there's always one senior with one or two beginners, and I know their experiments can be dangerous but they've been doing a lot of good too -"

Maka's frowning at Kim, and Soul jostles her, giving her a look as he says, "Okay, okay, no killing unless they attack us." He grabs his shotgun from her. "Right, Maka?"

Her expression doesn't lift, though she says, "Right."

"T-that's a real gun," Eruka stutters, eyeing it with trepidation.

"It's loaded with salt rounds - it's for the ghost, not for Mabaa. Speaking of which." Soul digs out a couple of pure iron items Tsubaki had on hand, and passes them out. "Keep these with you."

Kim smacks the fireplace poker into the palm of her hand, while Jackie makes a couple of swings with an antique lantern. Eruka clenches the cast iron skillet and says, "We can take my car -"

"The jeep will be better, it'll fit us all," Maka says, still frowning. "I'll go ahead and get the car started, it's cold outside."

"It's not that -" But she's already gone, and Soul's tasked with herding three nervous witches into helping him carry the gear up the stairs.

The rain has thankfully stopped by the time Soul and the three witches arrive back in the living room, and Maka's already waiting outside for them, arms crossed. She watches intently as they file out the front door, Kim and Jackie struggling to lift the heavy duffel bag between them, Soul watching to make sure they don't drop it.

"Come on, Eruka," Maka says, and Soul turns to see Eruka still hovering at the threshold of the doorway. "We've got to get going."

"Y-yeah." She fidgets nervously. "I um, th-think I might have left something back -"

"You can't, can you?" Maka asks, certainty in her voice. There's a predatory look on her face as she crosses the lawn, and Eruka takes a further step back, cowering. "Didn't happen to notice my line of salt above the doorway, did you?"

"W-what? No, I just -"

She lets out a shriek as the salt hits her, fizzling and leaving scorch marks on her skin. Maka smirks. "Here's another lesson for you witches," she says, crossing her arms. "Demons are just as vulnerable to salt as ghosts are, and higher ones aren't affected by iron."

Kim and Jackie gape at her. "How did you -"

Tinkling laughter erupts, drowning out the sizzling hiss of flesh. Eruka looks up at them, wide grin on her face. "It took you long enough," she mocks, and gone is any trace of the timid witch that stared at the gun in Soul's hands with apprehension. Hatred twists her delicate features, and she sneers at them. "And here I thought you were supposed to be one of the best, Maka."

"Found you out, didn't I?" Maka says, waving off the insult. "Now, who the fuck are you, and how long have you been parading around as Eruka?"

"You don't recognize me?" she pouts, and Soul knows that flash of red that flickers in her eyes.

"Medusa," he growls, and a smile spreads over her face, slow and coy.

"My dear Soul," she purrs. "You know, I haven't heard from you in a while. How cruel of you to kiss and leave." She shakes her head. "But then, I have heard you've been busy. Haven't you, my little prodigy?"

He ignores the outbreak of gasps from Kim and Jackie. "Shut the fuck up, Medusa. What are you doing here?"

"Well," Medusa says, inspecting her nails, "I decided that I couldn't just wait for you to call on me. A girl needs to be independent, you know. So, I decided to see what was up with my old contractor Masamune." She clicks her tongue. "Always was a strange one, you know. Much like yourself, but more angry and wild. You've got far more will and spark than he ever had. Anyway. Since you two had so kindly showed me where he was being kept when you came here the first time -"

"How -"

"I keep a close watch on my investments, Soul," she interrupts, waving a hand. "Or at least, I used to, until you got that ghastly thing." She gestures to the necklace around his neck, then continues. "It was a simple thing to use Eruka to sneak in and disable the wards. I could have just freed him, but then I thought - why not have a little fun? Why not torture that bitch that denied me the soul that is so rightfully mine?"

From the corner of his eye, he can see Maka moving as slowly as she can towards Medusa, hand buried in the bag. "So," he says loudly, trying to keep the demon's attention on him, "you used Masamune to murder Mizune and that man."

Medusa beams. "Precisely. Tsubaki herself sold me the ingredients I needed to bind him. Lovely, isn't it?"

"Where is he?" he demands. "Where are you keeping him?"

"Hmm…" Medusa regards him thoughtfully. "I know. Let's have a race. Tsubaki should almost be at Mabaa's, ready to rain hell upon those she thinks are using her brother. And I have a feeling that at the same time she's threatening them, other witches will be dying around her - murdered by someone who looks very similar to her that appears to be under her control." She tilts her head. "Why don't we see who gets to her first - you, or Masamune?"

Eruka's mouth yawns open before they have a chance to react, oily black smoke ripping free from her body and escaping upwards through the ceiling. The vacated body thumps to the ground, and a low groan of misery follows.

"Shit!" Maka cries, hurling the holy water she had been sneaking out of the bag at the ground.

"What - what the hell just happened?" Kim demands, eyes wide as she clings to her girlfriend.

"No time to explain," Soul says, moving towards Eruka, but Maka's already there, helping her up.

"Listen," she's saying, using the low, calming voice she usually reserves for these situations. "I know this is all really confusing and scary right now, but I need you to work with me, okay?"

Eruka takes a hiccupping breath, then rubs at her eyes. The look on her face is fierce and determined when she takes her hands away. "Tell me what you need from me," she says.

"Do you know where Masamune is being held? How we can break this binding?"

She nods. "My house. There's a - a secret passage, behind one of the walls. She made it using magic and set up an altar there, with the soul as the focus."

"Good," Maka replies, giving her a brief encouraging smile before reverting back to seriousness. "You and I are going to go after Medusa and destroy that altar," and Eruka nods again. "Soul, you, Kim and Jackie go after Tsubaki. Convince her that Mabaa doesn't have Masamune, and come to Eruka's place as quick as you can."

"Right," Soul says, and Maka catches his arm as he turns to go.

"Be careful," she says quietly, green eyes searching his.

"You too," he says softly, but there's no more time to lose, and they break apart.


Maaba's headquarters are located on the outskirts of town, in a seedy-looking area dominated by boarded windows and faded signage, squat buildings sharing lots with dry desert scrub. Soul's so preoccupied with looking out for murderous ghosts that he doesn't realize they've arrived until Kim's leaping out of the Beetle, Jackie close behind.

He takes one look at the establishment and groans. "You're kidding me."

"Shut up, get inside," Kim snaps, shoving him through the doors of the strip club.

Neon pink and blue lights blind him, and he winces as he's pushed further inwards, nearly slipping on the checkerboard tile floor. Hearts are everywhere, curled coyly on the barstools, blinking suggestively above leather couches surrounding tables and poles. A few patrons watch them curiously as they pass by, and one or two of the strippers wink at him, prompting him to scowl and hurry faster towards where Jackie's leading them.

He ducks through a door, Kim and Jackie prodding him further on, and the cutesy decor vanishes. They barrel down an ordinary looking hallway, passing dressing rooms and cleaning closets.

He can hear the sound of arguing getting louder the closer they get to the end of the hallway, and presently they come to a door. A tall, heavily made-up woman leans against it and straightens up as Soul approaches. She takes one long look at him, eyes raking him up and down, before asking, "You applying or paying?"

Soul sputters something incomprehensible, feeling embarrassed heat rise in his cheeks, before Kim says, "Shut up and let us in, Taruho. I can hear Tsubaki from here, we gotta talk to her."

Taruho snorts, but runs her manicured fingers along the doorframe. The door springs open, and they walk through to heated conversation.

"- know you have him, do not make me tear this place apart -"

"Please, you couldn't even flip this table with the wards we've put up -"

"Would you like to bet?" Tsubaki snarls, and the male witch gulps as the objects in the room rattle ominously.

"Tsubaki!" Kim yells.

She startles, tables and chairs settling back in their places with a thump. "Kim? Jackie? Soul?"

"It's not here," he says quickly, "Masamune, they don't have him -"

"That's what we've been trying to tell her!" the man exclaims, setting his hands on his hips. One eye glows a red brighter than Soul's, and stares fixedly ahead as the other, a normal green, sweeps through them. "She burst in here, threatening us - how do we know you're not the one killing witches, huh?"

"How did you -" Tsubaki begins to ask, looking like a rug has been pulled out from underneath her.

"Eruka was possessed by Medusa, she's been the one using Masamune, we have to get over to her -"

"Eruka?" she repeats, looking more lost than ever.

"Eruka?" The man tilts his head, looking concerned. "Is she okay?"

"Come on," Jackie says, pulling on Tsubaki's sleeve, who offers little resistance as she's dragged to the door. "Maka and Eruka - non-possessed Eruka - they're heading over to her house right now, we have to help them -"

"Hey!" the man shouts, hurrying after them as they run back into the hall. "Hey, wait!" Long legs mean he catches up to them quickly, and he says, "I'm coming too!"

Tsubaki stops, and Soul nearly runs into her. "You all should stay here," she says firmly. "It's dangerous, and Eruka -"

"Oh shut up Tsubaki, if Free wants to come, let him," Kim snaps irritably. "And you're an idiot if you think we're just going to let you go by yourself! You're going to need all the help we can get -"

"This is my - my fault," Tsubaki cuts her off, and Soul can see the fear that crumbles her mask, the desperate scrabble for control to keep the overwhelming despair at bay. "I have to -"

"Tsubaki." Soul lays a hand on her shoulder, and waits until her deep blue eyes meet his. "You don't have to do this alone," he says, making sure each word reaches her. "Let us help."

An inhale. "...Okay," she says finally. "Okay, but please just...let me take care of Masamune."

Soul begins to say something, but stops at the meaningful stare she gives him, and finds himself instead repeating her words back to her: "He's your brother."

"Yes," she whispers. "He is."

Somebody shrieks behind them, and they all whirl around to see a scantily-clad woman bolt out of the dressing room. Another one follows, screaming, "G-ghost!"

Witches begin to pour in from both ends of the hall. Some of them halt, staring at Tsubaki, and look at each other briefly before walking purposefully towards them, lips moving to form words.

"Go!" Kim cries, tossing him the keys. Her iron poker glows red hot in her hands as she takes a stance in front of them. "We'll handle this!"

"Masa -" Tsubaki begins.

"He's bound to the altar, come on Tsubaki!" Soul yanks at her, making brief eye contact with Jackie. She nods at him and swings her lantern on its chain before squaring up on the other side of Kim.

"This way!" Free says, pointing to a nondescript door. He lopes ahead of them, holds it open as they burst out into the fresh, cold air. Soul quickly directs them back to the Beetle, and Free slides in the front seat. "I'll get us to Eruka's in record time," he promises, and Soul barely has enough time to put on his seatbelt before he hits the gas.

The car tears down the street, loose garbage fluttering in its wake, and Soul can only pray that that Free can make good on his promise.


"Kaerogu gekoru," Eruka whispers, and the smooth surface of the wall melts underneath Maka's fingertips. The passage beyond stretches downwards, flickering blue light studding the roughhewn steps.

"Wait," Eruka says as Maka makes to go down. She traces a symbol out on the floor; it glows a faint green, and Maka can't help but admire its shape, the perfect curves and elegant sweeps -

Eruka gently turns her head around, back towards the passage, and Maka blinks. "Don't look at it."

"What is it?" she asks, shaking the strange magnetic pull away.

"A marker." Eruka takes the lead as they descend. "Medusa put up a lot of charms and wards to hide this place, since we sometimes hold our meetings here and she didn't want to be discovered. But as soon as the others get within range it'll call out to them, and they'll know exactly where to go."

"Oh," Maka says, and concentrates on watching her footing, trying not to slip. The scraping of their feet against the stone sets her teeth on edge, and it feels like the shadows are watching them as they pass. The eerie lights seem to leech color out of their clothing and skin, and more than once Maka has to stop herself from startling and lashing out at the fluttering of Eruka's dress, so primed is she to look for spirits.

"How did you know?" Eruka asks after a while. "That I was possessed?"

"You made a contract, didn't you?" Maka replies. "For your powers," and Eruka looks away. "Kim implied as much, when she said that she and Tsubaki were lucky to have their powers come naturally, and that Jackie had time to learn as a student. You weren't included in either of those categories."

"Tsubaki doesn't know," Eruka says softly. "I was afraid that she'd ask me to leave if she did." She frowns. "But what does that have to do with being possessed? It doesn't mean we're in the league with them or that they have access to our bodies - Medusa wasn't even the demon I contracted with."

"I've been doing my research on witches," Maka explains. "Borrowers like you have more powerful magic, at least initially, right? So you could have stolen the soul jar, and Tsubaki wouldn't have suspected it because you were keeping your actual powers hidden."

"But - why possessed? I could have just been another witch, trying to get one up on a rival, or just wanting a free soul for a spell..."

"Yes, well..." and it's her turn to look away. "I didn't want to jump to conclusions." She shrugs. "It was a lucky guess, either way. We've been up to our eyeballs in demons lately."

The stairwell broadens near the end, and shortly afterwards Eruka leads her into a dimly lit room. There's a strange heady smell to the area, something musky and overpoweringly sweet, covering up the faint hint of rot underneath. Candles line the entranceway, blue flames pinching upwards towards the ceiling. Images of snakes slither on every surface, tangled around walls and curled up on the tiles, paint gleaming a dull, dark red.

Tucked into a corner is a wooden structure, twisted limbs of trees lashed together to fashion a sort of triangular table, festooned with herbs and bleached bones. In between puddles of wax and decaying plants sits Masamune's soul jar, pulsing gray below the runes on the glass.

"That's it," Eruka whispers. "Ugh, it's going to take me forever to clean this place up."

"Do you know what we have to do?"

"Not sure, but it's tied to the altar..."

"Good. Watch the door." She advances, raising her crowbar.

"Oh, no no no, this won't do at all."

The breath is knocked out of her as she's slammed against the wall, crowbar clattering to the floor. She hears Eruka yell before being flung across the room.

The painted forked tongue of a snake caresses her cheek, slitted eye staring blankly at her. The image convulses, somehow, and the lines begin to move, sucked away from the wall and down to the floor - she follows them with her eyes as all the drawings in the room seem to coalesce into a dark blob to her right. It bubbles, then stretches upwards from the ground and forms solid curves, features...

Medusa shakes her head at them as the color returns to her skin. "The two of you, against the Queen of the Crossroads? This is just sad."

Maka can hear Eruka struggling against Medusa's hold, saying, "Tsubaki will -!"

"Never find her way here in time to rescue you." Cruel, mocking laughter bounces strangely off of the walls. "Or did you think your little beacon was going to slip past me? Really, Eruka, you're just as stupid as your teachers said." She moves out of Maka's vision, heels clicking as she crosses the room. "Though," she continues, "not without your use, I suppose. Who would ever believe timid little frog-freak Eruka would be capable of stealing a soul and killing people? Not anyone, apparently, not even Mizune."

"Don't you dare talk about her!" Eruka shouts, heels drumming against the wall. "She didn't deserve what you did to her!"

"You mean what you did," Medusa says. "Whose magic shorted out those wards? Whose hands were on the altar later, when you commanded the spirit to kill her -"

"Leave her alone, Medusa!" Maka yells, still trying to twist around to face her.

A pause, and then her chin smashes back into the wall. "Ah, Maka Maka Maka," Medusa says as the metallic taste of blood fills her mouth. "Fine. Let's talk about you. Did you really think you could just waltz on in here and ruin all my fun?" She clicks her tongue. "Of course you did. You've always been stupid. You still think you'll break your precious Soul's deal, still think you can somehow save him from going to hell." A hand seizes the back of her head, and pain explodes along her face as her nose is ground into the concrete. "He's mine, you smug bitch," she hisses into her ear, fingers digging into her scalp. "He's far too precious and talented to be with a waste of space like you."

Rough concrete takes a layer of skin off of Maka's face as Medusa drags it against the wall. "You're just a weak little girl, aren't you?" she sneers. "Still crying out for Mommy to save you from the bad monsters in the closet. Pathetic. She wouldn't have fucked up, you know. She would have killed that djinn before it got a hold of Soul or Wes. She wouldn't have dangled the promise of rescuing his brother over an innocent civilian's head in order to entice him to keep her company because she was so loooonely." Warm breath brushes past her ear. "You're nothing like her, and you never will be, you pathetic excuse of a daughter."

The world spins as Maka's flipped around, back scraping against the wall, and Medusa's eyes glitter. "I'll do Soul a favor," she declares. "I'm always looking out for him, you know, far better than you do."

Unbearable pressure crushes down on her heart, and she gags, doubling over, clutching at her chest. "I'll kill you - slowly, and painfully, of course." She can't breathe, can't expand her chest enough to get air - "Soul will mourn for a while, but he'll eventually give up and go back home." Black spots begin to dot Medusa's white, perfect teeth, wavering in and out as she grins - "And he'll be able to live out the rest of his short life back with his loving parents, playing the music he misses so much, being happy in the way you'll never be able to make him -"

Medusa shrieks as holy water splashes over her, and Maka's granted the briefest reprieve from pain, canister falling from her weak grasp as she sucks in a lungful of air. "You fucking bitch," Medusa screams, and hands close around Maka's throat, lifting her in the air as Medusa rages, "I'll fucking kill you right now, I'll tear you to shreds, they'll have nothing left of your body, just like your fucking whore of a mother -"

"Let her go!"

Medusa's grip suddenly goes slack, and Maka crumples to the floor, coughing and gasping. She blinks away the darkness from her vision, and looks up.

A pale man stands in front of them. A tangled mess of long hair frames his face, and his eyes bore into Medusa, flat and dull. Hands fist at his sides, and his existence seems to flicker at times, like a television on the fritz.

Eruka points a triumphant finger at Medusa, other hand flat on the altar. "Kill her!" she commands Masamune.

He takes a step towards Medusa, then many, movements sped up like a fast-forwarded tape. Hands reach for the demon's neck, his lips peeled back in wordless tormented rage.

Medusa backs away, then turns and runs towards the altar. Masamune disappears and reappears in front of her, cutting her off. She snarls, and reaches through him, ice forming on her fingers, to grab Eruka's wrist. "I knew I should have just killed you, you little brat," she hisses, wrenching the witch's hand away from the altar. Masamune disappears, and Eruka cries out as darkness slithers down Medusa's shoulders and winds its way up Eruka's arm. It rings its way up her chest, to her neck, and plunges down into her gullet as she opens her mouth to scream.

"I shared your body, you miserable freak." Eruka whimpers, eyes bulging in terror, and Medusa forces the shadow snake further in. "I know all about your nightmares, the things that make you scream and shake in the middle of the night - the feeling of soft teeth scraping away at the inside of your belly, the pain as they devour you from the inside out -"

Loud footsteps on the stairs, "- here, I can see, down -" and a man bounds into the room. Red glints from one of his eyes as he assesses the situation for less than a second before immediately charging forward.

Medusa drops Eruka's arm in surprise as he bowls her over and pins her up against the wall.

"F-Free?" she hears Eruka stammer.

"Get off of me, you gigantic imbecile," Medusa grunts, and Free is hurled backwards, knocking into the altar. Wood crunches and bits of it scatter underneath his weight; the jar slips from its perch, but Eruka lunges and catches it, settling it gently on the ground.

Free staggers to his feet, and ice begins to form around his clenched fist as he growls, glaring at Medusa. She merely smirks, and flicks a finger – both he and Eruka yelp in terror as their feet leave the floor, clutching at invisible hands closing around their throat -

"Hey!"

Medusa flinches as the shotgun pellets hit her, and they thump to the ground. Eruka immediately crawls away to where Tsubaki stands, furious and intimidating, while Free quickly makes his way over to Maka and helps her up.

"You lose, Medusa," Soul says, staring down the barrel of his shotgun. He doesn't take his eyes off of the demon, but Maka can feel the concern and worry leaking off of him as she limps over with Free's assistance.

Medusa smirks. "Have I, Soul? I still get the grand prize in the end, don't I -"

She rears back again as Soul fires another spray of salt. "What was that?" he asks, calmly reloading.

"I see you're in no mood to talk," Medusa says. "Very well."

Quicker than they can react, she leaps at the jar and displaces the glass bell from its base. "No!" Tsubaki cries, reaching out, but it's too late - Masamune reappears, still with the same dead-eyed stare.

"M-Masamune," Tsubaki stutters, taking a step back.

Something becomes aware in his cold eyes, warming. His eyes travel around the room and land on her. His lips part and a deep, rasping voice intones, "Tsubaki."

He takes a step forward. "Tsu -" Another rapid sequence of barely seen steps. "-baki." A flickering and he reappears in front of his sister, looming over her. "Tsu-"

"Masamune," she breathes. "Brother."

A pause. "Sister," he says, rolling over the word in his mouth. Then - "Murderer."

"Have fun," Medusa says cheerfully, and disappears with a snicker.


Masamune looks a lot like Tsubaki is the first thing that Soul thinks. Same long black hair, same high cheekbones and precise wrists. But there's nothing similar in the way they carry themselves - Tsubaki always holds herself rigidly, as if she's a bomb that will explode if she moves the wrong way, whereas Masamune looks as though he's only waiting for someone to set him off and give him an excuse to tear everything apart.

"Masamune," Tsubaki's saying, hands out to calm him, "we have to get you back, back into the jar - the wards will hold you -"

"You always did want to confine me," he remarks. His eyes burn like the cores of cold stars. "It was never enough for you that you were the only one that inherited the Nakatsukasa clan's powers, was it? No, no someone like you wouldn't be satisfied with merely casting spells - you needed power, you needed someone to lord over, like you lorded over me..."

"Masamune, I never - no!" she yells, thrusting out a hand. Maka pulls her swing in just in time to avoid crunching down on Tsubaki's hand. "He's my brother! I will deal with him!"

"That's not your brother!" Maka argues back, still clutching the crowbar. "It's just a crazed, dangerous poltergeist! One that will kill us all if -"

The spirit flickers, then winks out. A yelp near the crushed remains of the altar and the bell jar slips through Eruka's fingers as Masamune takes it away and places it gently on the floor. Then he's shoving his hands in her heart, frost trailing across her face, her lips pale as he squeezes -

"No!" Tsubaki sweeps a hand, and Eruka flies back towards the group; Free catches her in his arms, and she shivers in his grasp.

"Get them out of here!" Tsubaki orders, and Maka ushers the two back into the stairwell.

Masamune stalks forward, and Tsubaki crouches in front of them, hands splayed out on the ground. She doesn't move as he gets closer, and closer, and he seems to savor her stillness, a cat toying with a mouse.

"That's it, I don't care what she said," Maka mutters as she reappears next to Soul, sniffing away a string of blood from her nose. "We're taking out that jar."

She makes as if to run to the it, crowbar held aloft, but doesn't take more than three steps before meeting resistance. Blue flares around the room, encompassing the dueling siblings. "She's locked us out," Soul realizes, and Maka swears.

Tsubaki straightens up. "Brother," she pleads, spreading her hands in a gesture of peace. "Please. Return to the jar. I know I cannot bring you back to life but I can at least spare you the torment of hell!" Her face crumples as he ignores her and continues to advance. "Please," she begs again. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh, but sister," Masamune purrs, and his chuckle sends shivers up Soul's spine. "Oh, how I want to hurt you."

He grips her chin, pulling her towards him, and Soul can see how she shivers as he runs his fingers down her throat. "Spare me your false tears and pleas. You've always, always looked down on me, even before you manifested your powers. Always giving me the best prize, always going along with whatever I wanted to do, because you knew it was the only way I could succeed, wasn't it? Only if you allowed me to. I could see the laughter and pity you hid behind that empty accepting smile - you knew, knew I couldn't stand your pity and yet that was the only emotion I ever had from you!"

Tsubaki's breath makes clouds of condensation as she gasps, "Masamune, no, I -"

"And finally, finally when I had received the power that was rightfully mine, what did you do?" She cries in pain as his grasp on her jaw tightens. "You shunned me! You rejected me! You couldn't stand it, could you, that my powers might exceed yours? You selfish, selfish brat."

The heat in his voice abruptly vanishes, and those cold, dead eyes, a lifeless void, seem to suck all resistance out of his sister. "It was your fault I made a deal," he says, monotone. "Your fault that I'm still here, that all those people were murdered. Mizune's death is on your head, and my own death as well."

Tsubaki's face is frozen in a mask of despair, blue tinting her lips. Tears ice her cheeks as Masamune breathes, "Give it to me. Your soul - your life. It would only be fitting. You've always been so selfish, even as a child, and now is your chance to make things right."

The words unlock something within Soul, something that has him banging against the forcefield, crying, "Tsubaki, don't listen to him!"

Her eyes flicker over the ghost's shoulder and meet his, and he holds her gaze, putting as much empathy as he can into it. "You need to let him go," he whispers, knowing that she can understand him.

She closes her eyes.

"That's not your brother!" Maka's yelling next to him. "Your brother died ten years ago, that's not-!"

Soul dives, tackling her to the ground as a bright, wicked blade nearly slices her in two. "This is a family matter," Masamune says tonelessly, raising for another thrust. "Interference will not be tolerated."

Maka shoves Soul away and the sword sends up sparks against the ground between them.

"Masamune!"

Tsubaki's holding his jar aloft, runes madly swirling on its surface. "Get away from them," she says, voice low. "I'm - I'm giving you one last chance. Please return so I can help -"

"I won't go until I see you roasting in hell beside me!" Masamune screeches, face made inhuman by fury as he flies towards her.

"So be it," Tsubaki says softly, and lets go.

The jar shatters, glass splintering into shards. Masamune's wordless shriek of rage rises higher and higher, and Soul claps his hands over his ears, wincing -

Then, everything is silent.

He opens an eye cautiously. Beside him, Maka's eyes are widening, lips parting in surprise, and Tsubaki's in the middle of throwing, tears trailing into the air and hovering there, frozen in time.

"What -" Soul begins, but there's a sudden movement and something's in the middle of the room now, a dark figure crouching over the small gray-purple soul.

"Hey," he shouts. "Hey!" There's no resistance anymore as he pushes his way towards the stranger. "Get away from him!"

The figure straightens up and turns, revealing itself to be a man. A blink, and suddenly the man's face is close, too close. His skin is pale, almost ashy, standing out starkly from his jet-black hair, and there's something…strange about one half of his face, something that at first glance Soul can only describe as a shimmer - but all of that fades as the man's molten golden eyes bore into Soul's.

"Who -" Soul begins to say, when the man's face changes from a neutral frown to a snarl.

"You," he hisses, voice dripping with scorn. "Abomination."

He grips Soul's face, fingers as cold and as strong as steel. Soul attempts to fight back, but his body isn't responding to him anymore, limp and numb, and he hangs in the man's grasp. The world goes gray, and life retreats from his limbs, crawling into his esophagus and he coughs, feeling it stick in his throat as the man towers above him -

But just as Soul takes his last breath to vomit up his soul, he feels the hands withdraw from his face, and he collapses to the ground. Fire spreads across him as sensation returns to his body, and he risks a glance upwards. The stranger is staring off in the distance, frowning. Soul tries to follow his gaze, but sees nothing, and when he looks back, the man is gone.

"Soul?" Maka's voice trickles through to him, and he blinks. Her bruised and bloody face swims into view. "Soul, are you okay?" she asks again.

"Who -" He attempts to rise, Maka assisting him as his body makes a concentrated effort to sink downwards again. "Who was that man?"

"What man?"

"The - the man, the one who attacked me!"

"Masamune's gone, Soul, Tsubaki broke the spell tethering him here -"

"No, not him, the other -" Confusion refuses to clear from her face, and he sighs. "Never mind. I'll tell you later," he adds hastily at her stubborn look.

She accepts this, and then says, solemnly, "Eruka's going to stay at Free's place for a while. They're going to go back to Mabaa's, check on Kim and Jackie. I told him we'd take care of Tsubaki, and not to call until we call them."

Soul nods, looking over at the witch, slumped to the ground amongst the shards of the jar. "Go start the car," he tells Maka, accepting her hand up. "I'll get Tsubaki."

Her back forms a shield against him, and he knows better than to touch her. She doesn't acknowledge his presence as he crouches next to her, just continues to stare at the inert glass littering the floor. Each reflects a scattered piece of her features, stamped with the same broken expression.

"Goodbye, brother," she whispers.


Twelve hours later, hunters and witches together gather in Tsubaki's living room, waiting for Tsubaki and Free to emerge from the study. They're all looking a little worse for wear; Kim nurses a sprained wrist, Jackie sports a black eye, and Eruka keeps jumping at the shadows cast by the lamps. Soul looks immeasurably tired, face still drawn and pale, and Maka holds an icepack to her nose, doing her best to ignore the stinging of her chin and elbows.

There's the jostling of the doorknob and everyone straightens up as Tsubaki comes into the room, Free grinning behind her. He drops down next to Eruka, throwing a casual arm around the back of the couch, but Tsubaki remains standing, looking at them all in turn.

There's a moment of silence, during which Tsubaki attempts several times to break it, before she seems to shrink into herself, staring at her shoes.

"I have failed you all," she says, quietly, and waves off the many objections that arise from her simple statement. "No, please, allow me to speak. I have, in so many ways. I have failed as a sister. I have failed as a witch. I have failed you as your high priestess, and worst of all, I have failed you all as a friend.

"I did not tell you when my brother's soul was stolen. I did not allow anyone to contact witches that I knew had more experience than me in wardings and spirits. I did not notice when you, Eruka, were suffering, and I allowed my anger and prejudice to blind me when I went after Mabaa, alone."

She sinks into a chair, looking every one of them in the eye as she says, "Much of this could have been avoided if I had put my doubts and fears aside and trusted any one of you. If I had allowed myself to be vulnerable and ask for help when I needed it - if I had recognized that I never had any control over the situation." Her voice is low and haggard as she whispers, "Mizune and two other innocent people died because of my arrogance, and for that I cannot express my sorrow."

Eruka shivers, tears slipping down her cheeks, and leans into Free as he puts an arm around her.

"You're allowed to make mistakes, Tsubaki," Jackie says softly.

Tsubaki's lips curve upwards in a grateful smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "I didn't call you here just to apologize, however. I also wish to inform you that I am stepping down as the leader of the coven."

Three voices squawk in outrage, then immediately begin to argue. Tsubaki raises her voice over them, saying loudly, "This is a decision that I did not make lightly, but I believe is the correct one. More than anything, what we went through today has taught me that I have much to learn, and as such I feel unsuited -"

"But you're more powerful than any of us, Tsubaki!" Kim exclaims. "And - and you're always so patient, you never get angry when I accidently set your curtains on fire -"

"And you practice pronunciation with me over and over," Jackie chimes in, "and you go out of your way to make me study guides -"

"And you care," Eruka says, fiddling with her dress. "You let me stay here until I was able to find a place when I joined, and you listen to us when we're worried or angry even if it doesn't have anything to do with the coven -"

Tsubaki holds out a hand, waiting for their protests to die. "That's kind of you all to say, but this is as much for me as it is for you. There are many issues I need to work out for myself before I feel able to take responsibility for others." She smiles, and this time her gaze is warm as she says, "Don't worry. Free has extended an offer to take you three on in Mabaa's coven, should you wish to join them."

Free shrugs. "Y'all are pretty talented, and were trained right too," he says. "Kim and Jackie really impressed the others with how they were able to fight the ghost and take out a couple of ours at the same time, and I know Eruka's a whiz with constructing stuff." He nudges her. "Still owe you one for helping out with the eye, anyhow," he says, winking as her cheeks dust with pink.

Later, after Kim and Jackie leave with their arms wrapped around each other, after Eruka and Free head back to his place, holding hands, Maka finds Tsubaki, alone, sitting on the back porch. The hinges of the hanging bench creak as she settles down beside her, and they watch the clouds chase each other under the cracked eye of the moon.

"I'm sorry," Maka says eventually. "About your brother. And Mizune. And…everything really."

Tsubaki's breath curls out in the cold air. "Thank you," she says simply. "And…I'm sorry too. For - for what I said, when you found out."

"I wasn't - I didn't think you were controlling him, Tsubaki," Maka says, feeling awkward. "I - I know I have issues, and I understand, kind of, why you would be afraid of telling me, but…" She rubs a finger along the bench chair. "I don't think that way, about you. And I'm trying not to, about other people too. Even if they're not, um, fully human."

"I know," Tsubaki says. "That's not the complete reason I didn't tell you though. It was because I knew that as hunters, it would be your duty to get rid of him permanently, and I just couldn't..." She trails off, toeing the porch tiles, making the bench swing slightly. "Besides," she continues. "I'm not much better myself, about not making assumptions about people." She graces Maka with a small smile. "I guess we both have a lot to work on."

Maka returns her smile. "How does it feel?" she asks. "To no longer have your own coven."

Tsubaki hums as she thinks. "Sad, a little," she says finally. "Concerning, for them and for me. But…honestly?" She turns to her with a girlish grin, looking far younger and happier than Maka's ever seen her. "Right now, it feels so…freeing."

The wind ruffles the leaves of the young plants and bushes in her backyard, bringing with it the promising smell of rain and the bitter taste of cold, but Tsubaki's hand is warm as she touches Maka's wrist. "I hope you find out that for yourself, someday," she says gently.

Maka closes her eyes, and the endless road stretching off to the infinite horizon is still stitched on the inside of her eyelids, a tattoo she knows she can never remove.

And yet...

"Me too," she whispers. "Me too."