9. No More Lying: Return to Death City
"Tell me the truth," said Soul. "I wasn't at a school in Pennsylvania, was I?"
The four Evans were sitting around the dining room table, facing one another. Wes, who had just arrived from the airport, refused to look at his brother next to him, while both parents sitting across from the two boys were silent. Soul was fuming. Even sitting, he carried a threatening presence in the room.
"Well?" he demanded at the silence.
"Soul, please," said Wes. "Calm down."
"Don't tell me what to do!" Soul shouted, slamming a fist down on the table. He turned to face his brother. "You knew! You knew, yet you hid everything from me!"
Mrs. Evans's sharp gaze zeroed in on her older son. "You told him?"
Wes sighed. "I didn't say anything, Mom. I just told Soul there are some things that you weren't ready to tell him. And I was going to give him this tonight."
The whole family watched as Wes put a photo album in the middle of the table.
"She wanted him to have it," was all he could say.
Mr. and Mrs. Evans paled at it. Soul watched his parents in frustration.
"Who?' he asked insistently. "Who wanted me to have it?"
"Your roommate" Wes answered, voice flat in shame, unsure of how much he could rightly expose. "You might as well tell him the truth, Mom. This was all your idea, after all."
Everyone turned to look at Mrs. Evans. She sighed heavily. It was time to confess what she'd done, but the words were sticking in her throat.
It was Mr. Evans who spoke up.
"Soul. For the last five years, you were enrolled at the Death Weapon Meister Academy."
The Death Weapon Meister Academy.
If Soul hadn't been sitting already, he would have surely collapsed again. Instead, he slumped down further in his chair, trying to digest the news. He was enrolled at the DWMA. He'd been enrolled there for five years. He was a weapon.
"So if I was enrolled there for that long, that means I had a meister too, right? I fought, and collected souls so I could try and become an even stronger weapon. Right?"
His parents exchanged a look, obviously conflicted.
Soul was finally starting to connect the dots.
"It's the person who wanted me to have this photo album, isn't it? My meister."
"It is," said Mr. Evans. His wife shot him a glare. "What? It's true. Wes probably talked to her and got that album, right? We should just tell Soul, dear. I think he deserves to know."
"Tell me what?"
His mother finally spoke up, realizing there was nothing she could hide from him anymore. "After your injury, we asked that you stay with us again and settle down without having to go back to Death City. We also asked them to keep quiet about your disappearance from the public eye. We didn't want to shock you."
"Why the hell would you keep this from me? I had a life there! I had friends! Why did you think I didn't deserve to know about them?"
"Because we were trying to protect you!"
That surprised Soul. In anger, he held up his right hand. It flickered, a light circled up it, and within a moment there was a scythe blade in its place.
"I'm a weapon, Mom," he said firmly. "This isn't some magic trick. I can protect myself."
His mother sighed. "That's exactly what you said when you told us you wanted to go to that school. And we let you, thinking you'd be fine. Then about a year and a half after your enrollment at DWMA, we received a letter saying you'd been gravely injured on a mission in Italy."
Italy? Didn't Wes mentioned something about that?
There was a flash. Doors that opened in, not out. A black sword. Pain. A girl's scream.
Soul's hand brushed subconsciously along the scar marring his chest. His mother nodded.
"That was the time, yes. Apparently your meister had led you into imminent danger and froze in fear when the enemy attacked. You jumped in front of her to save her, and were cut cut down in the process. You almost died that night, and I heard from you later on that you'd been affected by the poison on the blade. Saying something about a demon and black blood. I didn't understand any of it, but you were scaring me."
Soul sat, soaking up the first bit of real memories his parents opened up. His arm had reverted back to its arm state.
"So why lie?"
"You were only fourteen and I almost lost you then!"
His mother's outburst shocked Soul into silence. He watched as his mother's expression slowly morphed into something akin to grief.
"You were only fourteen. We didn't know if you'd pull through for almost three days. And the moment you were released from the hospital, you went right back to work. Sixteen years old and you almost died again." This time her voice carried more grief, but she continued.
"If it hadn't been for the fact that you were adamant in becoming a Death Scythe then I would've forced you back home! But you begged, and your father and Wes sided with you. Who was I to let you give up on that dream?"
Soul paled. "A Death Scythe?"
He knew what they were, of course. Who didn't? Death Weapons were only one in a few, and to become a Death Scythe—a personal weapon to the shinigami himself—was the highest honor any weapon could have.
Something about those words made something in his mind click into place. Like a puzzle coming together, Soul realized what it all meant. The broken Japanese phrase he couldn't figure out, the photographs from the news articles he'd found online. Why he was even in Death City, Nevada in the first place.
Saigo no Desu Saizu.
Saigo no Death Scythe.
Soul felt sick.
"I'm the Last Death Scythe."
Both of his parents paled.
"How did you know that?" his mother asked. Then she gasped. "Those traders, the Japanese ones. Did they say something to you?"
"I didn't understand then, but it makes so much sense. I'm a Death Scythe. I'm the last one that'll ever be made. The alliance…"
Faces flickered before his eyes, too fast to remember. Two guns, blue hair, green eyes. The greenest of green eyes. A white dress, a piano, black wings.
Soul gripped his head in pain. The headache was sudden and blinding.
Wes was by his side in an instant, helping him sit up. Soul was doing his best to breathe, but the pain was spreading now. His vision was fading slightly. He kept hearing that voice.
Soul.
I'm waiting for you right here. We all are. So wake up when you're ready.
I'll be here for you. I'll always be here.
Angel… his feverish mind filled in. She was waiting.
"I need to go back."
Soul looked up at his family, who had all gathered around him at some point. He stood up, watching them with panicked eyes.
Mrs. Evans swallowed. "But son…"
"Mom, please. I need to know who I was...before all of this, before the accident."
Soul's father placed a hand on her arm. "Dear?"
Giovanna Evans was silent for a long, long moment. Her resolve finally broke as she stood and pulled Soul into a tight hug. The weapon, not expecting the sudden embrace, stood stiffly for a moment before returning the embrace. Mrs. Evans buried her face into her younger son's shoulder.
"Don't you dare almost die on us again, Soul. Understand?"
The morbid part of Soul wanted to joke and say 'third time's the charm,' but the part of him that was focused on his mother's firm embrace couldn't do it. Instead he held her back tightly and nodded against her shoulder.
It was the first time Soul noticed just how much taller than his mother he'd become.
Mr. Evans sighed. "I'll go ahead and contact the DWMA. I'm sure they'll want to hear you say you want to go back, Soul."
. . . . . . . . . .
Soul sat on the couch in the hallway before his mother's office. He was flipping through the photo album in slight awe, barely aware of Wes sitting next to him and looking over his shoulder. It was no surprise Soul would be immersed in what had happened those past few years.
The album was a time capsule in many ways.
Pictures taken from all around the world: Italy, Romania, Russia, China, Indonesia. Pictures with people he didn't remember but was obviously close to. They were all smiling. He was smiling.
So this was the life his mother wanted him to forget?
"Do you remember anything else?" Wes asked.
Soul shook his head. The pictures made his heart ache, but what hurt the most was that there was nothing familiar about them. It was almost like trying to remember a dream. There were feelings, sensations, sounds that he could associate with each picture and person, but Soul wasn't sure if that was him attaching what he knew to them, or if they were from his actual forgotten memories.
The office door opened. Mr. Evans left and went straight to his office down the hall. He seemed upset. Wes hesitated, but went to check on his father.
Mrs. Evans turned to Soul, who was waiting.
"I just finished speaking with Lord Death," she said.
Soul sat up. "And?"
"He would like to speak to you."
Soul was waiting for his mother to hand him the phone, but she gestured into the room.
"He's on the mirror."
"The what now?"
"They don't really use cell phones there," said his mother calmly. "Something about interfering with a meister's ability to use their abilities to the fullest capacity."
"Right…"
Mrs. Evans cracked a small smile. "I don't really understand it either. But go ahead. Don't keep him waiting."
Taking a deep breath, Soul steeled himself before entering the office.
Sure enough, the mirror hanging on the far wall had a strange glow to it. Soul swallowed. That was weird. Super weird. He took a few steps forward and cautiously peered at it.
Instead of his own reflection, there was the image of a young man who looked no older than him was there, clear as day. He looked normal enough except for his glowing golden eyes and the three white bands wrapping around his head through his hair. He was wearing a slim-fitted suit with a skull pin affixed to it. Behind him was a room filled with crosses and—oddly enough—a blue sky. Soul would have taken him for a photo if it hadn't been from the way the clouds in the background were moving or the way the young man in the mirror smiled and waved to him.
"It's nice to talk to you again, Soul."
"You're Lord Death?!"
The shinigami laughed a bit at Soul's incredulous look. "As young as I look, yes. I am. You once called me a teammate and a friend, before my father's passing. But that is a story for a different day."
"Right…"
Soul had at least a million questions about the few short sentences Lord Death had said, but decided against asking.
Lord Death cleared his throat and continued. "As I have been informed by your parents, you have rediscovered that you are a demon weapon, and have requested to return to Death City and the Death Weapon Meister Academy to help you regain your memories. Does that sound just about right?"
"Just about, yeah."
"Wonderful! It'll be great to have you back again. I mean it. Of course, there will be a great deal of training—"
"Um…"
Lord Death stopped talking immediately. "Yes?"
"Can I interrupt real quick?"
"A question?"
"A few," said Soul, a bit cautious. "If that's okay."
"Of course."
"Well, I guess… first off, is there anything that I can expect coming back? Like, some preparation? I'm not sure I'm really ready to start fighting. I mean, I just found out that… yeah."
Kid chuckled lightly at this concern. "Of course. You might be one of my weapons, but that doesn't mean you're going straight into battles you're not prepared for. According to your mother, your memories of training here aren't back yet. Am I correct in assuming that?"
"Yeah."
"Well then, you'll be reintegrated properly. Being a deathscythe, you have an extremely important role in our institution, and we're going to do what it takes to teach you what you need to know first."
"So since I'm a death scythe and all, then you probably needed to know if…" Soul paused. "Well, maybe the better question is, if I play such an important role, then you would have to know what I was up to, right? How did you keep tabs on that? How did you even know when I started regaining memories? Cuz I'm guess my parents didn't tell you that."
Lord Death smiled briefly. "We did keep quite close tabs on you during your time away from the DWMA, Soul. I heard mention you noticed a group of mice following you around your home." When Soul nodded, Kid continued. "Those were the Mizune sisters, ally witches who have done numerous undercover missions with the DWMA. I asked that they keep us posted on any sudden changes in your behavior in case there was evidence you would regain your memories."
"Oh…"
So that's why they never got rid of them, regardless of how much he mentioned it to the maids...
"Your brother was also a key factor in your memory recovery."
"Wes?"
Lord Death nodded. "Yes. He brought the photo album to you today, though we planned to give that back to you a bit later. He has another possession of yours: a guitar."
I play guitar? Soul thought.
"Aside from that, he gave us copies of your dream journals so Dr. Stein, the man who helped you during your recovery, could read over them."
Soul's head was spinning. Just how elaborate were all of their plans? How much time, effort, and resources did the DWMA put into watching him?
"Any other questions?"
"Then…do I have to train? Take classes?" Soul asked. The DWMA was a school, after all. Did they treat training like earning a degree?
"As I was saying earlier, we are currently working on your reintegration into the DWMA. Though you are now eighteen and legally allowed to make your own decisions regarding your employment, we've decided that it is best to begin by reeducating you. You will probably need to review the basics of transforming into your weapon form, syncing with a meister's wavelength, soul and ectoplasmic theory, and laws and regulations surrounding the legal limitations of being a weapon in today's society, so long as you are willing to do so."
Soul nodded, overwhelmed. Employment? So he could stay by Death's side for the rest of his working life if he wanted to. There had to be something about that sort of life that drew him away from his family's traditional line of musical performances, risks of dying and all.
"Good. To make sure we don't lose you again, we will ask you to sign a contract. It will be non-binding, but this means only you and those you choose to include will be given rights to any decisions we make in regards to your participation."
"So I don't need to let my parents in on it?"
"Essentially, yes. Though I know you have some family you're quite close to."
Soul nodded. "Wes, yeah. So he can get a say in it?"
"If you let him, then yes. We'll go over all the finer details upon your arrival to Death City. And we will give you some time to settle before reeducation."
That sounded fair. Soul nodded again. Lord Death smiled.
"Excellent. Now, I've just discussed this with your mother, but I will go over it briefly with you again. As you are probably aware, as a weapon you had a meister from before your memory loss. We have already talked to Miss Maka Albarn about what the future entails if you were to return, and she had agreed to help us in reacquainting you to Death City then."
"Um, Lord Death?"
"Call me Kid, please. All my friends still do."
Kid…
Something about that felt right to him. Soul nodded. "Kid, then. I just had a couple of questions. Well, a couple more."
Kid laughed a bit. "I'll do my best to answer them, but I'm sure being back here will allow your other friends to answer them in greater detail. I've been busy these last couple year."
Friends.
Hearing that word made Soul pause for a second. Wes had mentioned it and he'd seen the photos, of course, but hearing Kid say it cemented the truth further. He had friends. He had people in his life he called friends, and they knew who he was and he (at some point) knew who they were.
The questions could wait, then. All except for one.
"Can you tell me more about who Miss Albarn is? Is she a teacher? Another student?"
Kid's eyes went soft. His voice was quieter too.
"She was your meister and one of your closest companions for the last five years. You two were also housemates. She has your room still left from before the accident."
Hearing that made Soul's heart clench. He knew he'd had a life in the last five years he'd forgotten, but it never occurred to Soul how the people he'd forgotten must be feeling. A part of him figured they were just a bunch of stuffy rich kids who would take advantage of a friendship of him to get connections into the Evans family. But at the DWMA, that didn't matter as much, did it? It was all about combat and strength.
That was cool.
"So Miss Albarn and I were close?"
"Very much so. You two were the strongest pair in Death City. Weapons and meisters alike looked up to the two of you. Your partnership was an odd one at the beginning, but became a stable one over time."
Soul nodded, thoughtful. Could this Albarn person be in his memories somewhere? She had to be! But maybe his weird dreams could be explained better by her.
"Do you think if I met her, things may get better? Like, my memories come back faster or something?"
"I'm no expert on amnesia," Kid admitted, "but I believe meeting your meister again may help. Dr. Stein was certain that remaining in Death City would have helped more than going home, since this is where you spent your last five years."
"That makes sense."
"I'm glad." Kid glanced at his watch. "Soul, I'm afraid to say that I will have to conclude our conversation here. I have other meetings to attend to."
"Right." Soul cleared his throat. "Thanks, I guess. I'll see you soon?"
"Give us three days to prepare for your arrival."
Three days. Three days and he would be in Nevada again. Soul felt giddy, like a child getting a prized present. This would be great, he was sure of it!
"Thank you!" he said.
Kid seemed to hesitate for a moment. Soul frowned.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"Oh, not wrong, per say. It's a silly little thing, really. I know you don't remember me or the things we'd been through," said Kid, "but it really is good to talk to you again, Soul. I mean this both as a shinigami who employs weapons, and as a man who had the honor to call you my friend. I feared we wouldn't be able to ever see you again. Until next time."
The call ended with an echoing click.
Soul left the room with a thousand and ten thoughts rushing through his mind.
His whole family was by the door now. Soul tried to ignore the mix of emotions he felt. They'd agreed to let him have a personal conversation with Kid. He knew he owed it to them to tell the truth, but something held Soul back.
They'd done enough damage hiding it away in the first place.
"They said it'll take about three days to get everything ready."
"And then?" asked his dad.
"Then I'm leaving. I'm going back."
His father sighed in defeat. "I'll be in my office then. We'll have to make sure everything is ready on our end too."
Mrs. Evans nodded. "I'll let the staff know. Wes? Come with me?"
Wes gave Soul an apologetic smile and followed his mother. Soul stretched and decided to head up to his room to pack, leaving his father alone in the hallway.
With nothing else to do. Mr. Evans called his secretary.
"Odette? Clear my schedule for the next three days." He smiled sadly. "I owe it to my son to explain everything I know."
. . . . . . . . . .
Kid left his office, loosening his collar slightly. Screw symmetry, he needed to breathe, though he did end up taking off the tie entirely so it would not be lopsided on one side. Liz took it from his hand, folding it with practiced ease.
"That went well."
"It did."
Patty giggled. "Ready to tell everyone the good news?"
"I am." Kid clipped his cloak around his shoulders. "Shall we invite everyone over for dinner?"
"Let's eat out. There's that awesome pizza joint near Black*Star's place Harvar keeps recommending," Liz suggested.
"Pizza it is then."
. . . . . . . . . .
The group of meisters and weapon sat at a makeshift large table, rigged together with four smaller ones by their waitress. To Kid's demand, it'd been arranged in a perfect 2x2 square, every line matching up and requiring a near total rearrangement of their section in the diner. Everyone knew better than to question or object to the insistence though. Perfectly in the center were pizzas to each individual's requests, some sharing similar preferences.
Black*Star began reaching for a piece until the shinigami shot him a glare, standing up to gather their attention. "Before we eat, I'd like to say something. We've gone a long two months without our friend. I know that you, as much as I, have been anticipating news of him…"
Everyone, save for Liz and Patty, paused to glance at each other. Was this topic appropriate to bring up when Maka was right there with them? Even mentioning this had the possibility of striking a nerve when they were supposed to be having fun.
Kid firmly looked ahead, ignoring Maka's steely stare. He knew things would be better in a moment. He just had to say it.
"I'm happy to say that he has reawakened his weapon form, and while not necessarily regaining all his memories back, he's voluntarily decided to join us at the DWMA again."
The reaction was immediate. There were shouts of joy and hands thrown in the air with fists of celebration.
"YAHOOOO!" Black*Star shouted, not holding back on eyes of other customers in the diner immediately darted their way.
"Black*Star, you should keep it down," Tsubaki reminded him.
"Let em' hear me! About time he came to his senses! I'm gonna have to teach that rat bast—"
Instantly, Tsubaki interrupted him. Her sweet, soft voice was one that could make anyone smile. "That's wonderful news! I'm so happy for you, Maka."
Meanwhile, Maka couldn't do anything more than smile. Tears almost welled in her eyes, and she swiped them away immediately, covering the motion in a disguise of celebration.
Kid waited until the commotion went down before continuing.
"That's not all. Furthermore, I'll be looking to you all to help Soul with his reintegration. I've already arranged the agreements for his return, so your help is crucial."
"And?" Kilik asked.
"We have three days to prepare for Soul's arrival." Kid let out a little, breathless laugh. "He's coming home."
"So what all needs to be done before he gets here?" asked Kim.
"I must inform the Witch Order of this update, naturally. Knowing we've secured all remaining death scythes will be a relief for them too. Kim, Ox, I trust you two will be able to make sure the information makes it to Mabaa."
"After dinner?"
"It can wait until morning. I think this has been enough excitement for one day."
Ox and Kim nodded.
"Maka," Kid continued.
"Yes?"
"This isn't an easy thing to ask, considering everything that has happened, but I was wondering if you would be comfortable with Soul living with you again?"
There was a moment of silence. Everyone's eyes were trained on Maka for her reaction, unsure how to react. The meister had a thoughtful look on her face.
"Why?" she finally asked.
"Soul and I spoke about it," Kid said. "He doesn't have any recollection of you from what I was able to gather, but when I mentioned you were his meister and former housemate, he seemed interested in reconnecting with you. We both agreed that your presence may help jog his memory."
"How much about our relationship did you tell him?"
"Nothing more than that. I didn't think it was in my place to do that."
"Thank you."
"Will that be okay?"
"It's fine, Kid. I want to help Soul as much as I can, even if…even if it means hiding the truth from him."
"Is three days enough time to prepare?"
Maka finally looked up. Her eyes held the same unwavering determination they did before any important mission.
"Yes."
"Enough of this chit chat. Let's EAT!" Black*Star exclaimed, grabbing the first slice.
. . . . . . . . . .
The second flight back turned out just as exhausting as the first one going away. Soul was both excited and nervous, and while he'd been given the chance to glance around the landscape below in his plane, he found it hard to truly pay attention. With so much going on, there was only so much he could focus on. He ended up sleeping for a majority of the flight, and things only hit him after he deboarded the plane.
I'm a weapon, and I'm going to attend DWMA! This is it, the life I'm missing.
Soul checked the print-out his mother had given him before he left. He was supposed to meet Kid and then be driven to Maka's apartment. No, their apartment. It was his too.
Looking around the crowds at the airport after picking up his luggage, Soul glanced around, eyes peeling for the person he'd been told to look for, the only one he would recognize at the moment.
A three-striped suit, striped hair… Three-striped suit, striped hair….
Ah! In a moment, he spotted who was supposedly the Shinigami. Seeing him in person versus in a mirror felt entirely different, though.
Instantly, he was waved over. Trotting anxiously to the Death God, Soul ducked his head a bit.
"Um, hey?"
"Welcome home, Soul," Kid said with a proud smile.
"Thanks."
Soul gazed briefly at Kid. Amazing that he was actually standing here with Lord Death in the flesh! He had to force his jaw not to drop. Every detail of his outfit was impeccably smooth, not a wrinkle to set it awry or spec of dust. He did not appear a single bit like what would be typical of a menace or all-powerful being. No, instead he was a welcoming, friendly and perfectly human-appearing individual. Heck, Soul was about the same height as him!
"How was the flight?" Kid inquired.
Soul shrugged. It wasn't his first flight, but every one of them always left him in the same state. "It was long, and tiring. Jet lag, I guess."
"I see, I see. Shall we drive over?"
"Sure."
The car, it ended up, was just a cab. Soul was completely shocked as they drove through the streets towards the center of Death City. Here he was in a regular old taxi sitting next to one of the most powerful beings on earth. How surreal. Soul wasn't sure what to do. Should he talk? Kid said they were friends before, but that was strange.
Kid broke the awkward silence. "Ah, I suppose you're wondering where we're going, then? I'm sure you're ready to settle down."
Soul nodded, a lump in his throat forming, unsure of himself in this strange new city.
"Don't worry, for the time being, we'll have you stay in your old apartment with Maka as we said before. If there are any concerns, please feel free to contact myself or tell Maka directly."
Soul nodded in acknowledgement. Being in a city he didn't remember was exciting, but the weapon, no, Death Scythe (somehow the thought was still exciting), but after today's travels, he was ready to sleep. Everything else could start tomorrow.
"Alright. Sounds good."
"We'll give you two weeks to adjust to life here before we start any training. From there we'll have Black*Star be in charge of all of your physical rehabilitation. Professor Marie and Dr. Stein will help you with transformation and soul theory respectively. After that, Maka will work on resonance training and combat."
The cab stopped. "Your stop."
"Thank you." Kid paid and gestured for Soul to go. "How much do I owe you?"
Soul got his small luggage out of the trunk, along with his guitar, which he had been pleasantly surprised to discover he could still play a bit of. Kid joined him a moment later and pointed to the apartment complex across the street.
"There's your place, on the fifth floor. Oh, I see Maka's waiting of us."
There was a person sitting on the front steps there. She stood up and crossed the street towards them. Soul recognized her as the young woman in most of his pictures.
"Is that…?"
"You meister, Maka."
Maka stepped forward.
"It's nice to see you again Soul," she said. "Even though you don't remember me."
Soul couldn't help but stare.
Maka Albarn was definitely a striking figure. Her green eyes were steady, her blond hair tied into two pigtails, her clothes suiting her. She was the shortest of the group, but the way she held herself was full of confidence. There was something more, though. It was as if her aura was bigger than her. Strong. Fierce. Her eyes met with Soul's and he shuddered a bit at the weight behind her stare.
There was something so painfully familiar about Maka Albarn, as if he'd met her in a dream and was desperately trying to hold onto those faint memories of her. It made his chest ache. He didn't even know her, not really. But it felt like it.
Maka nodded towards his suitcase. "Want me to carry it up?"
"Nah, it's cool. Um, I guess I just want to turn in for the night?"
"That's fine! You've had a long journey. I'll show you up." Maka took Soul's suitcase, despite his protests, and waved to Kid with her free hand. "Thanks Kid. I'll see you soon!"
Kid waved the two goodbye before taking out his skateboard and riding back to his own house.
. . . . . . . . . .
Finally back at the home, Kid settled back down with his friends in a pair of much-deserved sweatpants. Everyone save for Maka and Soul were slouching on the round couch in a loft. They'd previously offered to go with Kid to retrieve the amnesic weapon, but Kid was glad he kept it narrowed down to just him. He didn't want to overwhelm Soul, after all.
That didn't stop his weapons from prying, though.
"So, how'd it go? Is Maka okay, you know, seeing him after all that?"
Of course Liz would be the first to ask.
"She's taking this surprisingly well. Was very civil with Soul." Kid noted.
"Oh?"
"Yes, no outbursts or uncertainty. It's just as if they were meeting for the first time, again."
Liz gave a short nod. "I see. You know, I almost expected her to burst into tears, knowing how close they were."
"I don't know," said Tsubaki softly.
Kid turned to look at her. The weapon's expression mirrored her worry.
"Maka-chan's the kind of person who tries to see past her fear. That, or accept it and not allow it to affect her on the outside. This always worked, but now… I'm afraid she's only putting on that mask for Soul's sake and not her own."
Black*Star nodded sagely. "I see what you mean, Tsubaki. She'd better not put her needs on the back burner for him."
Patty was frowning. She turned to Liz next to her. "Hey big sis, you think they'll be okay?"
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," said Liz with a sigh, "although I'm slightly worried Soul may unintentionally hurt her. You sure he'll be okay at the apartment?"
"He'd better not."
Everyone turned to Black*Star as he practically snarled the words, his hands balled into fists in his lap.
"Maka's like a kid sister to me. If Soul so much as dares make her cry, I'll come after him, memories or not."
"Even though he's your best friend?" asked Tsubaki
"Especially because he's my best friend. Cool guys don't make girls cry, that's what he'd always say."
Patty laughed. "He did, didn't he?"
"Well then," Kid said. "Let's make sure to keep an eye on everything, and be here if Maka needs any of us."
A murmur of agreement went through the group. They'd just have to wait and see.
