"It's hard to take over the world when you sleep 20 hours a day"

-Darby Conley


"So why-" The man with the demon eye paused to jab a hand through an oncoming guard's chest, "-would a Shibusen student come to free me?"

"Why would I be from Shibusen?" Countered Maka as she blocked a spear aimed for her heart. The last thing she needed was for someone to connect the dots between her and the place she made her home. If anyone ever found out about this, Soul would never be rescued, and she'd spend the rest of her days in some stupid cell wishing for what would never be.

"You've got Death's scent all over you. Don't try to fool my nose!" The man with the demon eye boasted with a grin. Maka ignored it, since responding would probably only dig her hole even deeper. What was she supposed to say? No, no. That's just my murderous intent you're smelling. I only want to kill you and the stupid witch who wanted you freed. No biggie.

Instead she focused on leading her charge towards the edges of the witch's jail, back to the entrance that she'd blown in the wall during her initial break-in. Wasn't too bad. Just more of the same. It helped exponentially that on her side was an immortal with the power to freeze men solid.

Crona was waiting just outside the hole in the wall. If you defined waiting as killing anyone who got close enough to see her face. Great. Time to get this over with. She started to tell the demon sword that it was time to bail, but never got the chance as a fist buried itself in her gut.

Maka was out before she hit the ground.


"So, you're the witch that had me sprung? Weird one aren't you?" Said witch only smiled, humoring the asset that had been stolen from a silver platter. Men. So easily amused.

Bowing gracefully, the witch presented herself. First impressions and all that. "I am Medusa. It is my pleasure to meet with you, Demon-eye."

"Demon-eye? Huh. Guess that jail took my name too." He snorted in contempt, glaring at some point on the horizon that roughly corresponded to the prison he had just escaped. "But I'm a free man now, aren't I? So call me Free."

She smiled. Idiot. He would be no more free than Mizune once Medusa had her way. "Free it is then." No harm in humoring him though. The less he suspected of his terminal employment, the better.

"So, yeah. Thanks for getting me outta there. You need anything? I don't like being in debt." Honestly, could the man be any denser? There was a price for everything in this world. In what fantasy had he dreamed that his 'freedom' was free?

"Well…" Medusa's face twisted in what appeared to be consideration for a moment. But as all moments did, it passed.

The shift of expression was abrupt and deliberate; her tongue forked, eyes flattened, and the vector snakes that made her body their home flared outwards. "Help me attack Shibusen." If Free was impressed, he didn't show it.

"Shibusen." He thought for a moment, and Medusa watched as his smile slowly expanded to be as wide as her own. Perhaps not quite as terrifying, but what could you do? "I never liked the rules set by Shinigami. I'll help."

Perfect.

"Something's bugging me though. What about her? Ain't she Shibusen?" Free gestured over his shoulder at the blond girl slumped against the rocks. Crona, for once, had not proved herself an absolute failure and had knocked out Maka once the man with the demon eye was retrieved. Hostage or no, the less people who knew of her employment at Shibusen, the better. Couldn't have dear Maka going around knowing that the witch who'd stolen Soul was actually sweet, caring nurse Medusa. Stein would probably pick up on it, somehow.

Ugh. That reminded her. She flicked her wrist. Crona understood the signal and slung Maka over her shoulder to return her to Shibusen. The blonde would probably be missed otherwise.

Medusa watched as Crona's black form vanished into the night sky. "She's an experiment." At worst, a dead end. At best?

Well, the possibilities were endless.


At some point, Tsubaki realized, she must have woken up. The ceiling had suddenly appeared above her, and there was no other way to explain its being there. And since she'd woken up, she must have fallen asleep at some point too, right?

When had that happened?

The ceiling wasn't offering any answers, no matter how the weapon stared at it. Sitting up, Tsubaki glanced down blearily as she realized that for whatever reason, she hadn't changed out of her normal clothing last night. She could practically feel the imprints that the jeans had left on her legs, not to mention the gaping dent that her belt had forced onto her hips. Right. There was a reason she slept in a nightgown.

"What happened?" She voiced aloud, allowing herself to gaze around the room dazedly. Nothing looked out of place, it wasn't like the world had suddenly tilted on its axis or anything. Drawers were closed and unlooted, lingerie wasn't hanging out the window, and her walls didn't show any signs of abuse.

Though, it was probably worth noting that her meister was snoring on top of her desk. That position couldn't be comfortable.

"Black Star?" She prodded tentatively. No response. Standing left her lightheaded at first, and a rather odd pain shot through her abdomen as well, but otherwise, Tsubaki was okay.

"It's morning, Black Star, time to wake up." Sprawled out amongst her papers without a care on his face, her meister was the textbook definition of a heavy sleeper. Sort of. Grimacing, the weapon wobbled forward towards the desk.

Tsubaki's hand had only barely grazed Black Star's shoulder when he violently jerked awake, trying to tumble out of the way and off the desk, but hitting the wall instead. She could've yelled at him all day to wake up without results, but experience dictated that once his personal bubble was breached, for all intents and purposes, her meister was awake .

Assassination attempts tended to have that effect.

"Tsu-yawn-Tsubaki?"

"Good morning." She smiled. "Sleep well?"

"Of course! Do you doubt my desk-sleeping abilities!?" Tsubaki thought of school. Of the mop she kept under her desk to wipe away the small lake of her meister's drool. Of the snore loud enough to shake books off a tabletop.

"Never." Black Star nodded at the praise, obviously pleased with himself. Obviously, he hadn't noticed the dangerous smile alighting on her features. "May I ask why you were sleeping on my desk?"

"I had to carry you in." Tsubaki's face twisted in puzzlement. While it may have explained why she was still wearing jeans, it definitely didn't cover why Black Star had camped out on her desk.

"You don't remember?" Black Star asked, prompting her to nod. "Geeze, I guess everyone can't have such a great memory as mine!"

"What did I forget?" She persisted, rightfully curious.

"Ah, I don't know actually. Maka brought you here-" He continued on after that, of course. Rambling off in some explanation Tsubaki couldn't hear. Because suddenly, like switch had been flicked, memories flooded back into their rightful place. Bad memories.

For once, Tsubaki didn't let her meister finish.

"Maka-chan-she-she! Black Star! Maka's in trouble! Horrible trouble! We have to help her!" Tsubaki was frantic, clutching at Black Star's shoulders as if maybe the knowledge she held would just magically diffuse from her to him.

"I know that! I know everything! Because I am-"

"You know?"

"Er, kinda. She wouldn't tell me, and you were kinda knocked out, and I was getting reeeeeeally weird vibes from her."

Tsubaki started shaking him. Maybe the extra blood-flow would help him realize how bad and horrible and awful this was! "Black Star, this isn't a joke! There was-in her closet-! Oh Shinigami, she needs our help!"

"What was in her closet Tsubaki? You haven't told me yet!" She didn't bother feeling stupid, there'd be time for that later.

"Maka has the Demon Sword in her closet! The one who sliced her open! And she didn't tell me why." Story told, the weapon took a step back, biting her knuckles in nervousness. "Something horrible has happened to her. I just know it."

Visibly shocked, her meister slumped backwards to lean against the wall, mouthing the words to himself as to make sure he had that right. "That would explain a lot, I guess."

"It would?" Try as she might, Tsubaki couldn't keep the disbelief out of her voice.

"Don't doubt the great Black Star's detective work! Of course it would!" The words and their accompanying laugh were too hollow for her meister. He was more shocked than he'd let on then.

Even though sigh that followed sounded nothing like the Black Star she knew, at least it fit the sudden emptiness in his tone. "Look, yesterday Maka wouldn't tell me why she came back and you were out cold. She told me to tell you that whatever you remembered was a dream." He snorted. "As if I'd listen to that." The proper wording was as if he'd listen to anyone, but details, details.

"Whatever she's doing, she's trying to protect us. And I don't need protection." Ah, there was the obnoxious ninja she knew and had had the horrible tendency to enable.

"We can't tell anyone." Tsubaki whispered. She chewed her lip, unmindful of the fact that she'd torn it so badly it bled. The next admission hurt. "If she's really working with the Demon Sword, they'd lock her up, wouldn't they?"

Black Star nodded. "We can't let them do that, Tsubaki." Another uncharacteristic sigh passed his lips. "Not until we know why she's doing this."

"Maybe…" She hesitated. "…maybe it has something to do with Soul? Maybe the Demon Sword has him? Or knows where he is?"

He glanced sidelong at her. "You mad I didn't listen to Maka and tell you it was a dream?" Tsubaki's eyes held the same steel of her weapon form. They had to get to the bottom of this.

"Right. The great god that is myself should always listen to his instincts!" Ah, there was that grin she knew. The one wide enough to split his face in two; the one he expected to split the heavens.

Her thank you was implied.

Though…that still didn't explain why he was on her desk! Ah, she hoped her homework didn't smell like feet for the rest of the day. Honestly, sleeping on a desk, the floor was probably more comf-

…homework?

Tsubaki turned to check the clock, urgently.

Oh no.

"We have school!"

Black Star absently picked some snot out of his nose. "Isn't that giant test today?" Oh Shinigami, it was wasn't it? Tsubaki had forgotten about it in favor of trying to help Maka through…whatever this was. She'd studied, sure, but now that she remembered it…

"We're doomed."


The spare key was missing or moved. Either way, Spirit didn't have a way in. Maka had confiscated his key a long while ago, and kept the windows locked for much the same reasons. As of now, he had yet to find a chimney that he could squeeze through.

But before he could even raise his fist to begin the barrage of begging and pounding that would eventually get him into his dear daughter's apartment, the door swung open on its own. (Almost smashing him in the face, but details, details…)

"Papa?" Maka was obviously on her way out, and by the way she was frantically tugging on a boot and stuffing papers into her overflowing shoulderbag, Spirit was willing to bet she was behind schedule. She'd been excused from her remedial technician/weapon courses until further notice, but the standard high school curriculum classes she'd signed up for were all still fair game.

Although why she thought that she'd need calculus later in life, even Spirit didn't know.

"M-maka!" His little girl, all late and irritable, just like her Mama!

The teen paused in the doorway for a moment, staring up at her parent as she finished jamming a notebook into her bag. But the moment passed, and Maka began to push past the man in the doorway. "I don't have time for this." She mumbled. "I'll see you later Papa."

"Ah. Ah! Maka! Wait! Papa can drive you!"

He couldn't, of course. Being the Deathscythe didn't stop the DCPD from impounding his car after one too many drinks. But in her hast, his darling daughter had forgotten her tram card, and she'd let him pay her fare, so all was right with the world.

"Soooo…" What now? Ah, um, eh, gah. Conversation with his daughter! Pull it together! He had fifteen minutes until their stop. Fifteen blissful minutes to cheer up his dearest daughter! Fifteen minutes to assure himself that there was absolutely nothing wrong, and that whatever Stein was guessing was just that; a guess.

"So how's the search?" Spirit cringed. He probably should've expected that one.

"Makaaa," he moaned, "Papa can't cheer you up if that's all you ever think about!"

"I heard that the team's down to five." Three, actually; but Spirit didn't have the heart or the gut to tell her as such. Sooner or later, the search for Soul would stop altogether. But he was determined not to be the one who had to break that news.

"Quality over quantity. Only the best for my Maka!" The trill was a little late, but, well, hopefully she wouldn't notice?

Eh, nevermind. With the almost-glare she was shooting him, it was impossible to think that the slip had been passed over. Crud. He made to initiate plan C for repairing his daughter's mood, but stopped short in his swooning at the last minute. Was that-? Yeah, it was!

What business did that bandage have being wrapped around his darling child's neck!?

"Maka-chan, what happened?" Predictably, she slapped his fingers away before they got anywhere near her neck, but he figured his point was made.

"Nothing Papa." Nothing?! Nothing?! His baby was hurt! Again! Maybe she had never healed? Oh, he never should have signed those release forms. Never ever ever. Next time, he'd make sure she stayed in bed until she was absolutely completely one hundred percent better.

"You're hurt! We need to call an ambulance! Quick!"

"No Papa!" She growled, curling up into the crook of the seat like a cornered animal. It only lasted a moment though, because then the wincing started and Spirit felt worse than awful. His poor daughter was in pain!

And then it struck him.

Of course! His dear, brave daughter hated for people to see her when she was down. Obviously, his love and care was drawing attention she didn't want. In an attempt to right his wrongs, Spirit glared at the patrons of the tram who'd taken to staring at his display. Except the pretty ladies. Eh, there was Selina-chaaaan!

No! Focus! Spirit nodded firmly to himself, oblivious to the way that Maka was trying to shuffle away.

"Maka, what happened?" He asked as gently as possible, taking care not to add in any extraneous exclamation points. "Papa's worried." Maka sighed at that, avoiding eye contact. Was she feeling guilty? Guilty for upsetting him? That was weird.

"I fell down the steps Papa. Don't worry so much."

Huh, was that all?

"Well, I'd say that we should have Stein look at it, but I don't want my poor Maka-chan to end up with flowers growing out of her back." Ah. Ah! She'd giggled. He felt compelled to justify himself.

"He did that to me once." Spirit deadpanned.


"How are you feeling?" Soul didn't bother answering. He'd figured out pretty quickly that talking back only drained energy that he couldn't afford to waste. "I think your dear meister was really pushing it last night, you look so pale." He'd fall asleep eventually. That was just how things went. Sleep, wake, drift through uncomfortable consciousness for a few hours, maybe sip some water, fall back into an equally fitful sleep.

"You don't have to answer me, Soul Eater. I'm getting everything I need from my own instruments." He could faintly hear the pad of her feet on the stone floor, circling round as she grabbed printouts from here and there.

"And I must say, these results are quite intriguing. I've never tested subjects at such a distance before. It has so many possibilities. Opens so many doors." Her feet began to walk away from the encirclement, and he fought back disbelief. That couldn't be it. She usually gloated more.

Ah, nevermind. There it was. This time, Soul felt the smile rather than saw it.

"I think you'll be getting a visitor soon."

There were a billion ways he could take that. She could have been talking about that freaky mouse witch, or the Demon Sword who'd gotten him into his mess, or his brother, or Black Star. Hell, maybe it was the guy who serviced his bike. And yet somehow, his fogged-up brain could only reach one response.

Maka…


She'd been fifteen minutes late to calculus.

She'd spent half of Mandarin snoring behind a textbook.

She'd forgotten to do her homework for world history.

She'd passed the entire English block crouching in a stall and trying not to scream as the painkillers wore off and her cracked rib reintroduced itself.

And to top off her wonderful, super awesome, just so friggin great day, Crona greeted her at the door.

"We're going to the Baltic." Sneered Ragnarok

And that was that.


Sooo, almost three months. But not quite! Ah, my new icon is of Tightrope!Maka btw. Notice the blood P:

Hey, is that the plot I spy? Sweet. It means we're getting to the part that I've been waiting to write for six months. But first, uni apps. Anybody else taking the plunge with me? Early admission results should be out in mid-december, let's all cross our fingers :P

I'd definitely like to thank SingerToPotatoes, Nenena, ElricKeyblade, Kashii Ai, and xSoulRyder for their reviews from last time. You've probably forgotten me in the last three months, but I haven't forgotten you :D