Chapter 10

Kid examined the carefully sculpted crystal, the amber liquid inside splashing against the chunks of ice with an aristocratic tinkle. Flickering light from the ornate fireplace reflected off the cubes, distorting the flames in a beautiful display that drew the eye.

"Ice," he began carefully, tilting his hand this way and that to get a better view. With a curt smile, Kid turned his head to the frowning man to his left. "Difficult to obtain on such a dry planet, is it not?"

Tobias adjusted himself, folding the jewel-toned fabric over his arm regally. He appeared uncomfortable in the heat, sweat running off his fat cheeks. When he noticed Kid looking, his lips twitched upward in what perhaps was initially meant to be a smile, but never made it past a cringe. "Yes, well," Tobias coughed, beady eyes watching his guest intently, "it isn't every day the sovereign prince of a neighbouring planet drops by for a visit, now is it?"

Kid laughed lightly and took a sip. "Certainly not."

Tobias watched him, lips pressed together thinly and eyes narrowed. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

"I just wanted to express my pleasure with this year's gladiator tournament," Kid stated. "It's so refreshing, don't you think, that a woman is participating? I am very much a child of my mother, you see. She was such an inspiration growing up. The female reminds me a bit of her."

"I see, then you will be rooting for her," Tobias remarked, teeth grinding as he spoke.

Kid's expression was carefully pleasant. "Most definitely."

"Hm." Tobias looked Kid up and down shrewdly, his fingers tapping a rhythm on his knees. "What did you say your name was?"

"You may call me Nino," Kid said, inclining his head.

A stiff nod from Tobias. "If you insist. However, you see, the young gladiator you speak of has had a tragic loss in the family. Her father, if I'm not mistaken." He clucked his tongue, a calculated noise of just the right amount of sympathy. "With the female disposition being so fragile, it wouldn't surprise me if she didn't drop out."

"Oh, she seems like a strong girl to me. I'm sure she can handle it," Kid answered, smiling stiffly. After a moment he coughed and stood, brushing off his black clothing. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I need to speak with my attendant. Health issues, and all that. Do thank Tsubaki for introducing us, she was such a delight when we met at the party."

Tobias nodded, humming softly. As Kid left the room, his gaze never left his back.

"Watch him," he told his guard, who stood at attention behind his throne. "Something's off about him."

….

"Did he fall for it?" Liz whispered as Kid emerged from the floral scented room, his "royal" robes swaying behind him. She had been waiting just outside his office door, poised as his "servant".

Rather than stop, Kid grabbed her arm and tugged her along with him, walking briskly down the stone hallway. "I'm not sure," Kid muttered, looking behind them jerkily. "At least, not entirely. We have to hurry. I think he's going to have me followed."

"Did it work, though?" she hissed back, easily keeping up as they rushed through the corridor.

Kid nodded. "Yes. He won't kill her now, not when he has the slightest doubt in his mind that I'm telling the truth."

She breathed out in relief, sagging to the point that Kid had to jerk her upright when she tripped. "Pay attention," he snapped.

"Yeah, yeah. Now we just have to make sure she fights. Do you think she will?"

"I do," Kid replied, though he didn't sound entirely sure himself. "For all our sakes, she has to."

"Has Soul found her yet? She ran out pretty fast when she saw the body."

A heavy sigh. "Not since last I heard. He's her wisp though. If anyone can find her, it's him."

…..

The alcohol tasted sour on her tongue, but still she drank, swallowing the bitter liquid in great gulps as she chased away the memories of the past twenty-four hours. Her mind felt fuzzy and, though the smells permeating the air were painfully familiar, the tears had long since dried against her skin.

The ale must be doing its job.

Eyes squeezed shut, Maka took another swig from her father's bottle—pressing her lips together and tilting her head back against the wall as the burn warmed her throat and chest. In the back of her haze filled mind, she noticed the door creak open beside her.

"So this is where you've been..." Her eyes peeled open slowly, and she looked up as Soul crouched down next to her. He cupped her cheek and carefully turned her head towards him, brushing her hair back from her face with gentle fingers. Had he touched her like this yesterday, with such tender reverence, Maka would have cherished the moment with all the embarrassed pleasure she could muster. As it was, her dull eyes just stared straight ahead, dead to the world around her. "Maka, look at me," Soul said.

She ignored him and went to take another swig from the bottle. Before the rim could touch her lips, however, it was pulled from her fingers. "Hey!" she protested, diving after the alcohol only to have an arm catch her around the waist.

"Are you drinking alcohol?" Soul asked incredulously, holding it away from her when she lunged for it. "You told me you hate this stuff."

"Shut up," Maka muttered bitterly. "You don't know anything. Give it back."

Soul sighed, rubbing at his face wearily. "Come on," he murmured in a quiet voice, lifting her limp body off the ground with some difficulty. "Let's get you to bed." Maka slumped uselessly against him, head falling back—which would have toppled them both over had Soul not quickly shifted her body in his arms and caught her neck with one hand.

Maka groaned in his hold. She didn't want to move. She didn't want to do anything. Except drink. Where was her booze? "Let me go!" she yelled, pushing against Soul's chest. "I want to be alone." She tore herself free and glared at him.

"You're drunk," Soul accused. "You aren't thinking straight—go to bed before you hurt yourself."

"I haven't even had a third of the bottle," Maka grated through her teeth, feeling the tears pushing at her eyes once more despite her best efforts. She blinked them away miserably. "I'm perfectly fine, now give it back to me."

Soul sighed. "I know you're hurting, Maka—"

"You don't know anything!" Maka spat.

"—But you're just letting him win. Can't you see this is what Tobias wants?" Soul raised his hands in a placating gesture. "You have to fight it, Maka—use the pain as a weapon."

Maka balled her hands into fists as she snarled at him, her nails pressing half moons into her palms. "You don't know anything," she panted, gasping through tears that drained down her face. "You aren't even human!"

Soul crossed his arms, eyebrow raised. "Is that supposed to offend me?"

"You're such a jackass! I wished I'd never partnered with you!" The words were said in the heat of the moment, and she could see the flash of hurt in his eyes before Soul quickly concealed it. She wanted to take it back, but the stubborn hurt in her heart kept her lips tightly sealed.

"You need to get over yourself." Soul said each word carefully, his red eyes never leaving her own. "Talk to me when you aren't full of your own selfishness."

Maka growled, and before Soul could reach the door to their room, she jumped on his back. "You—" she punched him "—are such a stupid—" pulled his hair "—idiotic—" jammed her heel into his solar plexus "—jackass!"

Soul reached around himself, grabbed the fabric at her back, and threw her over his head onto the mattress. "You crazy—" She landed on her feet and jumped back at him, cutting his curse off as she landed in his arms. Ready this time, he caught her, twisted, and slammed her back against the wall. "What do you want from me!?" he shouted at her.

Maka's eyes roamed over his face—saw his anger and stress and weariness—and any desire to continue fighting left her. Her limbs fell limp, her body only held up now by her partner. Her hands found his face, and she was met with a spark of surprise as she looked into his eyes. Her forehead leaned down to rest against his, and from there the tears fell silently.

Soul sighed. He turned them around so it was his back pressed against the wall and he slowly slid them both down to the floor. Maka pulled back and they stared at each other silently, unspoken words passing between them in the quiet.

He moved then to press a single kiss to her brow, so gently that her heart hurt from the contact. Her eyes had closed to savour the touch, but when he pulled back she opened them again, and the hurt in her chest increased even more from the tenderness she saw there in his eyes.

Maka just wanted to forget. Everything. Just for tonight.

In that moment she could do nothing but kiss him, and so she did—clumsily and passionately she pressed her lips to his. Maka felt him jerk beneath her and, scared he would try and push her off, she clamped her thighs tighter around his hips. His lips felt soft and warm against her own, and she relished the sensation, eager and willing to lose herself in it.

His hands, hesitant at first, slowly slipped beneath her shirt and rose up to brush against the skin of her back. The feel of his warm hands sent chills up her spine as she pressed further into him—eliciting a groan from Soul.

Maka sank against him, drunk on his taste and his scent, seduced by the feel of his body beneath hers. Her head swam—whether from Soul or the alcohol, she didn't know.

All the while, her tears continued to fall. When one fell against Soul's hand, he broke off their kiss and gently pushed her back. His thumb brushed her cheek and he sighed. "Come on," Soul murmured into her hair as he lifted her up off the ground. He walked to the bed and gently laid her down, stuffing her arms and legs beneath the covers.

He sat down in a seat beside the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. "Sleep it off," he told her quietly in the darkness.

Maka covered her face with her hands and softly cried.

…..

When next she woke, the sun a warm glow on her face, she became instantly aware of the damp cloth covering her eyes—and the excruciating headache that split through her brain. With a muffled groan, Maka raised her hand to pull off the cloth.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice said, distractedly—Soul's, she realized. Out of pure spite, Maka tugged her hand away from his gentle grip and pulled off the cloth anyway.

Only to immediately regret this decision as the light burned into her eyes, making the ache in her head that much worse. Clutching her head, she screeched, "Stupid windows!"

"Told you," Soul mumbled and Maka peaked through her fingers to glare at him.

An aggravated sigh. "Would you just leave me alone?" she grumbled, curling up on her side, hands covering her eyes. She just wanted to forget everything, the loss all-consuming. The hole in her chest slowly ate at her.

"See, I would, but some crazy girl bound me to her." Maka turned to face him with a snarl just as Soul smirked. "Funny how that works out, huh?"

He was sitting beside her on the bed, looking down at her as she lay curled in a pathetic ball. She wanted to push him away, knock him off the bed with her foot and ignore all the horrible things going on in her life.

Just as she sneakily lifted her leg from beneath the ragged covers, she heard the gentle turning of a page. It was a noise she'd recognize anywhere, one she coveted within the very depths of her heart. She regarded it with a mixture of the deepest yearning, the greatest heartache, and the purest fondness.

Almost hesitantly, Maka emerged from her hiding, and slowly moved to peer over her partner's shoulder. He must have known she was there, there simply wasn't any possibility that he didn't, but his eyes remained trained on the worn book in his hands.

It was old, just as Maka remembered it, and she knew without touching it that the pages would be soft and supple. She knew every tear by heart, every indentation and perfect imperfection. Without thinking, Maka sank down against Soul's back, her chin carefully balanced on his shoulder.

"This is the fairy tail my father read to me when I was a child. It was my favourite," she murmured, pressing closer to get a better look. "Where did you find it?"

"On your father's side table—looked like he'd been reading through it." He turned the page, and the sound resonated through her chest like a memory.

"Papa was?" She reached for it, but he moved it away. "Hey!"

"Quiet, I'm reading," Soul admonished. "Although, I'm surprised something like this would appeal to you."

She glared as best she could from her angle. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Another page flipped. "It's very whimsical, with unlikely scenarios and situations. I'd assume you would appreciate something more practical."

Maka huffed, sitting back to cross her arms haughtily. Her nose tilted straight up in the air as she told him, "I was a child, of course I'd like something like this then. It doesn't mean I wouldn't like something more practical now. I would read grand novels, of the most sophisticated nature if I could."

"Hm." The noise was non-committal, amused, and Maka found herself flushing for some reason. After a moment, she cautiously returned to her previous position. His back felt warm against her front, and before she could stop herself her arms rose to carefully rest on his shoulders.

"Read aloud," Maka whispered into the cloth of his shirt, a quiet and vulnerable plea. As she waited to see what he would do, she held her breath, knowing he was just as likely to ignore her as he was to do as she'd asked. To her relief though, his warm, soothing voice began speaking the familiar tale without question.

"And so the prince, with only the slightest of hesitations, lifted the glimmering frog from the pond. 'You are awfully hideous,' said he, a grimace on his face not unlike the one he'd given his mother when she'd prodded him to eat his vegetables earlier that morning. 'And I am loathe to touch your lips to mine, no matter the promises you offer.'"

Maka, who had settled more comfortably against Soul, her cheek resting against the warmth of his back, smiled slightly. It was her favourite part.

"'But, my sweetest of princelings,' croaked the frog, 'I ask of only the smallest favour in return for wealth beyond your wildest imaginations. You would be made king, so happy would your father be!' The prince found appeal in the idea, so often overshadowed by his taller, older, and much better at fencing, brother. Still, the prince thought, his princely eyes returning to the plump frog, it was so unhygienic." Soul told the story well, Maka noted, pleasantly surprised. His voice was a joy to listen to and, to her growing amusement, he used different voices for different characters.

"'Very well,' the prince mumbled finally, and puckered his lips like a fish, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. He leaned down and pressed a single kiss to the slimy skin of the frog, lingered a moment or two - just to be sure - and pulled away with disgust. 'Egh!' exclaimed the prince. 'Egh! Wh—'"

"'What vile, distasteful blasphemy is this? That I should kiss a frog and like it!'" Maka interjected with a faded grin.

Tears were draining down her face.

Soul continued on as though he hadn't been interrupted. "And from the frog, a beautiful boy emerged, his skin as green and mucousy as ever, but perfectly handsome in the eyes of the dazzled prince." Soul paused, head tilting. "Was the mucous drugged?"

Maka snorted, taking the chance to reach around him and swipe up the book. She held it reverently, fingers tracing the ornate letters of the cover. "Don't be silly, they're in love." She sighed. "My father read this to me every night for years, always at the same time, just before the sun would set and we lost the light. He always said sunlight was the best light to read by."

"He was probably right."

Maka nodded, still touching the story book with trembling fingers. "It was Tobias, wasn't it?" she intoned suddenly. Soul looked over his shoulder at her, his gaze calm as he met her own levelly. "Tobias killed my father. The body was found abandoned in an alley, but it was him."

Soul didn't try and deny it, didn't sugar coat it, and for that she was grateful. "That's what Kid believes. Apparently Spirit had quite a debt. It could be a motive."

Maka clenched her fingers, lips pressed thinly as she shook her head. "No, we've always been in debt. It's more than that. He did it because I'm in the tournament."

"Most likely," Soul agreed, before reaching over and wiping away the remnants of her tears.

"You know, he's probably happier now," Maka looked down at the worn leather cover, feeling bitter in the worst way. "Probably glad Tobias killed him."

Soul remained silent, watching her patiently.

"He's always been unhappy," she explained, her throat horribly tight. She cleared it with a miserable sniff. "No matter what I try to tell myself. I've known for awhile that he was ready to leave but—" her words broke off with a choked cry and her face fell into her hands "—I wasn't ready! I'm still not ready. Why did that no good bastard leave me!? Rotten good for nothing father." Her shoulders shook as she cried, the tears raining down her face. Arms wrapped around her gently and she was pulled against a warm chest. "I hate him," Maka muttered, wiping the tears away, wishing it were true so badly it hurt. "I hate him so much."

Soul kissed her neck, and the action was so unexpected, Maka jerked back and looked at him in surprise.

He regarded her calmly. "Are we going to do this, Maka?"

"Wha—?"

He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Are we fighting? We're meant to be at the arena in an hour."

The words hit her hard, a reminder of the tournament, the stakes. It had all been to prove her worth to her father, to get a better life for them both. Would it still be worth it? Now that he was gone.

Yes, she realized, as she watched Soul play with her hair absently, it would be. If not for her, then for the life partner she'd found herself. And Tobias would be there, waiting for her. If she wasn't there, he would be so pleased, his fat rolls jiggling with the force of his own ego.

"Yes," she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "We are."

If not for her father, then for herself.

…

Perhaps, Maka thought, as she entered the dust coated gates of the coliseum, there had been a time in her life when she'd been angrier than she was now. However, as the violent waves of fury crashed through her, heating her chest and boiling her blood, she could not think of it.

"Ready?" Soul asked beside her, knowing damn well how she was feeling but asking anyway. The jerk.

"Don't ask stupid questions," she said simply, raising her chin and pushing her shoulders back. Without a backward glance, Maka walked to the meeting room.

"So that's a no, then."

The smart-ass reply didn't, to Maka's surprise, come from Soul, and when she turned her head it was to see the cocky grin of Blackstar. Hair as vibrant and gravity-defying as ever, Blackstar pushed off the wall he'd been casually slouching against and approached them both.

"Shut up, idiot," Maka muttered, but couldn't help the weary smile that spread across her lips. It was good to see him.

"You okay?" he asked, scrutinizing her expression.

"I'm fine." Blackstar raised a skeptical brow and she sighed. "I'll be better once this is all over."

"Fair enough," he allowed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. "Come on, people are waiting for you. They were wondering if you'd make it."

"And you?" Maka couldn't help but ask, pushing his arm away and patting down her pigtails.

A loud, obnoxious snort. "I don't have cowards for friends," he said simply, hands finding his pockets. "Now come on, dork-lords, it's time to get ready—the pre-pubescent master and commander is eagerly awaiting your arrival."

And that, apparently, was that.

…..

"The six of you will be fighting each other before the official final round to see which four will go on. You will each be given a weapon and will not be allowed to join together until the official final round begins," Kid explained carefully as Maka adjusted the stiff leather of her armour, lacing the back as best she could.

"Is that why you've made Soul wear armour too?" she asked.

"Exactly. Now, Tobias should allow it to be a fair fight, but still be aware of oddities. He is an unpredictable sort of man, and angry in a way that isn't completely sane."

Maka stopped, frowning at Kid. "You think he's mad?"

"I know his mind is sick, perhaps with madness, perhaps with something else. No man of a clear head would do the things he's done." Kid opened his mouth, perhaps to say something else, but he closed it with a shake of his head. After a moment, he simply told her, "Just be careful."

Maka gave up on the laces. "Wait! What makes you think he'd leave me alone at all?"

Kid grinned, pushing his shoulders back. "He may have had a visit from an out of town prince who had taken a liking to a certain female competitor."

Understanding dawned and Maka grinned. "You dog."

"Yeah, well, I have to take care of my assets. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave you to finish getting ready. We'll be at the gate."

Maka felt hands at her back take up the abandoned laces and start to tie them tightly and securely. "You've made friends," the warm voice said behind her, familiar to her, and stealing more of her heart each day.

She looked over her shoulder, watched as Soul concentrated on the tangle of ties that secured her armour. "It seems that way."

"Are you ready?" he asked next, quiet as his first statement.

"Not really," Maka admitted, facing forward. She took a deep breath—or tried to. It was difficult with the compressing leather. "I don't want to do this, Soul," Maka confessed silently. "I don't think I'm read—ow!"

"Sorry."

"You did that on purpose," she grumbled, her fingers twitching. "I'm just saying I—"

A second sharp pinch had her cursing.

"If you talk like that," Soul bit out, finishing up with a final jerk of the leather laces. "We are already dead." He grabbed her by the shoulders and twisted her around to face him. "And though I didn't know your father well, I do know he wouldn't want that."

"I'm feeling the urge to punch you right now," she said it through gritted teeth, glaring at him through loose wisps of her hair.

Soul smirked. "Good. I prefer you angry." He turned solemn then, squeezing her shoulders once, twice. "If you don't want to, we won't. But you'll never forgive yourself otherwise, and we'll never get a chance to show Tobias what we're both made of." His hand stroked her face. "When you bound us you made sure I would follow you no matter where you went."

Her mouth opened as the sharp guilt bloomed in her heart, but he held a hand to halt her.

"I would now gladly do so regardless of the compulsion," Soul murmured, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll be waiting with the others."

And then she was once again alone.

The quiet of the room was deafening, if one discounted the echo of cheers that reverberated through the stone walls.

Her eyes found the tarnished mirror fastened to one wall above a sitting table, brought in to help warriors prepare for battle. Mindlessly, she walked towards it, feet dragging on the cold ground as her face appeared in the dust-coated glass.

Her head raised to stare at her reflection. She looked for something in her own green gaze, perhaps a sign of strength. A sign that she was something more than a girl attempting something foolish.

All she saw was herself.

But she was enough. She could do this. Her fingers left splinters in the wood as she unclenched her grip

"Just do it," she hissed to herself, glaring into her reflection. "Just do it."

A final, deep breath, and Maka turned and left the room, opening up the door to the dark hallway. She held her head high though her legs shook. Why was it so much harder this time? she wondered. When all the other times she'd done it so easily?

Everyone stood waiting for her by the gates, the light of the colosseum ring entrance near blinding. Soul turned to her, calm and waiting.

"Knock'em dead, kid," Blackstar said, patting her hard on the back as she passed him.

Tsubaki greeted her next, wrapping her up in a strong hug before she could reach her partner. "Be careful, you two. And good luck." She gave a final, desperate squeeze before letting her go.

Liz nodded solemnly to her, while Pattie winked and gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. She offered them both a quick smile.

Kid was last in line. "You'll be fine," he told her, adjusting her shoulder pads and dusting off her hair. "Just keep what I told you in mind."

"Got it, thank you."

Maka turned to Soul with a great sigh. "Ready?"

He grinned, lips spreading to reveal jagged teeth.

It was answer enough. Her smile was instant.