Eripio (v: to rip, snatch away, to escape. Latin from ex, "out of; from" + rapiō , "grab; seize.")
You open your mouth to speak as you stare at Soul, gloved fingertips brushing against his cheek. Then, with an audible click, you shut it, spring to your feet and throw off the hopelessness settling on you, narrowing your eyes. Your fist connects with the top of his head and sends him tumbling to the ground. "Who the hell told you it was okay to give up?"
He lies facedown on the ground without moving and you lower your hand, mouth running dry.
With a muffled groan, Soul raises his head, appearing dazed. It takes him a moment to find you but when he does, there's no doubt in your mind that he's looking at you.
You let out a tiny sigh before reaching out a hand. "Hey. What are you doing down there?"
"Oh," he says, taking your hand. "Right, sorry."
He doesn't let go of your hand after he rises, gaze traveling across your face before meeting your eyes. Something silent and intangible passes between you, like the mingling of breaths on a frigid day.
Then, he grimaces and the moment passes.
"What is it?"
"I don't know." His frown deepens and he steps back. "I feel like there's something I'm forgetting."
"Was it important?"
"I'm not sure," he says, running a hand through his hair. "It was something I wanted to tell you, I think."
"If it's important, it'll come back to you and you can tell me then," you say, letting go of his hand and retrieving your scythes. You hold out his, noticing the worried crease between his eyebrows. "Either way, I'm sure it's fine."
He looks like he's about to speak but instead, he nods and gives his head a shake. "Do you mind if we leave? I don't like being here."
"Neither do I," you reply, glancing around the room. Maybe it's because you found Soul here but the rabbit dolls almost look malevolent to you now, like they're waiting to pounce on you. "Let's go."
As you leave the doll room, Soul asks, "Where's Crona?"
"I-" You look up and down the corridor. "They didn't want to come in so I thought they would just they would just wait outside."
"They couldn't have gotten far," he reasons. "There's kinda nowhere to go."
"Unless they went back in the tunnels, then they could be anywhere." You bite your lip, worry knotting in your chest. "I don't think they're okay being on their own."
"We'll find them," he says, catching your eye. "Even if we have to search this whole damn building again."
Nodding, you push your worries to one side. "This way."
You arrive at the tunnels to find the door firmly shut.
"No!" You kick the stone, earning you nothing but toes throbbing with pain. "It was open, I know I left it open."
"Well, it's not now," Soul says as he bends down to examine the wall. "Looks like it only opens inward."
"That is what Crona said," you reply, heart settling somewhere in your stomach. "Now what?"
"We keep looking for another way out," he says, straightening. "Or is this you giving up?"
You scowl and make a face at him. "Of course not."
He grins. "That's what I thought."
"There was a part here that we didn't explore," you say as you re-enter the corridor. "We should try that first."
The bend Soul pointed out earlier connects to another corridor but instead of dead-ending like Crona claimed, what's left of a door lies in pieces along with pieces of the wall, the beginnings of a staircase peeking out from behind the rubble.
Exclaiming out loud, you start to break out into a run.
"Hang on!" Soul seizes your arm, making you lurch to a halt.
"What's wrong?" You glance at him and catch him screwing up his face with the same expression he had in the doll room. "Do you need to rest?"
"No, I don't know, I don't-I don't remember," he pauses and rubs his head before continuing, "What happened before the doll room is hazy, it feels like there's holes in my memory and no matter how hard I try, I can't remember anything." He blows out a breath. "But I know there's something I wanted to say to you and it just feels like I'm running out of time to say it."
"Well, I'm not planning on going anywhere," you say, nudging his elbow with yours. "So I would say you have plenty of time."
The anxiousness in his eyes doesn't fade but he nudges you back, breathing in deeply and nodding.
As you walk through the wreckage, you recognize Crona's handiwork. Excitedly, you say, "Crona has been through here."
"How do you know that?"
"The lips on their sword screams," you say, gesturing to the crumpled pieces of metal "And does stuff like this."
"All that damage from a scream?" he asks, eyeing the chaos. "That is disturbing."
You hesitate as you pick through the scattered debris. "Maybe a bit but I trust Crona. They're careful about using it."
He makes an unintelligible noise that you take for agreement.
The staircases seems to stretch infinitely and just as you feel a stitch developing in your side after ten minutes of climbing stairs, they abruptly end and you knock your head into the ceiling.
From beside you, Soul asks, "Does it just stop here?"
Massaging the sore spot on your head, you squint in the darkness. "I guess so." You frown. "But if Crona came through here, then there has to be a way out." Reaching out tentatively, you push against the ceiling, feeling it shift ever so slightly under your fingers.
You push harder. "Soul, help me!"
Together, you manage to lift up the stone, which opens up into the black and white tiled entry hall. The angel fountain gurgles quietly in the background as you climb out of the staircase, looking around for any sign of where Crona may have ran off.
"Maka!"
"Crona?" You whirl around to see them emerging from one of the hallways branching off the hall; they drag their sword instead of carrying it and it makes a scraping sound against the floor.
You breathe out a sigh of relief and begin to walk towards them. "There you are, I was worried about you."
"Sorry," they start, "I was-"
Soul lunges in front of you. "Wait!"
You jump, alarmed. "What are you doing?"
"There's a reason Crona has a sword instead of a scythe." He looks at them and then back at you. "They were never with us in the museum."
"They're a painting."