A/N: I finally got time to update! I know, I'm a few days late and I apologize for that, but my free time has been cut short lately. I'll continue to update as often as I am able to because I do enjoy writing this story. Also, I am going to start another Soul Eater fanfic that will strictly be a CroMa drama/fluff story, so keep an eye on my profile for that if you're interested! Again, thanks for reading! Reviews and feedback are always appreciated!

"Is this it?" Deshi paused before a building. He adjusted his clothes: a black dress shirt tucked into tightly fitting black pants, along with a yellow tie hanging from his neck. His golden eyes stared up at the building, a fancy restaurant with live music that could be heard from the outside. This was the nicer part of Death City, and Deshi was rather unfamiliar with it. But, this is where his mission was. This is where his queen wanted him to go.

"Yes, yes," the blonde boy muttered to himself as he stepped through the doors. His golden eyes were crazed, focused and fixed on the bar as he approached it. He sat down at an open seat, staring straight ahead at all of the glass bottles which contained glimmering alcohol and sparkling wines. Deshi licked his lips, wondering what it would taste like. Would it be sweet like honey? No, it would probably be sour…he didn't like sour things.

"Hey, kid," the bartender, a slick redheaded woman glared at him from behind the counter. "Aren't you a bit young to be here? Let's see some ID."

"Oh, no," Deshi's lips twitched into a distorted smirk. "No, I'm not here to drink." He reached towards the woman, and in a flash, his arm transformed into the drill, whirring and spinning loudly as it ripped apart her insides. Onlookers at the bar screamed and stared in horror, though none of them dared to try and stop the boy. Deshi's twisted grin grew as he turned to the next victim, excited to kill them all and swallow their souls…

888

Crona and Maka had almost made it to the academy- almost being a key word. They paused, froze, when Maka's soul perception picked up on the sudden disappearance of a dozen human souls. Not bothering to go get her scythe- seeing as Soul was probably already asleep for the night- the two rushed off towards the disturbance. As they ran, Maka kept a firm grasp on Crona's hand to be sure that he kept up with her. The small action made him blush, then scold himself as he remembered that this was not the time to be relishing in Maka's touch.

"I-it's here?" Crona panted as they finally stopped outside of a restaurant in the wealthy part of Death City. It was ironic that Kid's mansion was only a few blocks away from this place; they could see it in the distance, if it were daylight.

"Yes, I feel it…and that strange soul again," Maka nodded as she stepped forward. She pushed open the doors, and let out a gasp at the sight she saw. "Deshi…"

The walls were splattered a bright crimson, and blood pooled on the slick marble floors. Bodies, shredded apart, mangled and torn, were strewn across the large room. Bright blue souls hovered around, some of them still shivering with the shock of having lost their lives. The only one standing was the blonde boy, his hair stringy and splattered with blood, hanging over his crazed golden eyes. His dress shirt was torn where his drill arm extended, no longer spinning but still out and ready to strike again at any time.

Crona trembled at the sight…not because it was Deshi, and not because he had just killed dozens of innocent humans, but because the scene looked so familiar. The dead bodies, the blood, the floating blue souls, that crazed look in his eyes…the thickness of the atmosphere was almost radiating madness. Crona stretched out his hand, the demon sword forming in his grasp. Ragnarok's mouth appeared, but didn't speak. A horrid pain struck the meister's stomach; he knew that his weapon was still angry with him…

"Oh…it's my friends," Deshi smirked as he gazed up at them.

"You," Maka glared at him. "Stop this at once. Transform yourself back to normal. Or as a student of Shibusen and a member of Spartoi, I will be forced to stop you."

Crona glared at the weapon boy with anger in his stare. "Don't call us friends…"

"But…I haven't done anything wrong," Deshi tilted his head to the side, a bit of blood trickling down his cheek. "I'm just like you, you know…I get missions…I'm a weapon…I'm only doing what I'm told to do. I do it to please my master, just as you do."

"Do not compare your senseless killing to the will of Lord Death!" Maka threatened as she stepped forward, her hands clenched into fists.

"Maka, s-step back," Crona glanced to her as he moved ahead of her. "You don't have a weapon…"

"Oh, well…demon child. At least I can collect you now," Deshi grinned as his golden gaze turned to the pink haired meister. "You, you…your mother was Medusa. Tell me, is it true? Are the rumors true?" He slowly stepped closer as he spoke, his eyes glowing with crazed curiosity. "Did you kill Medusa?"

Crona flinched at the question, his grip tightening on the demon sword. A light flash overcame his eyes as he glared at the weapon. "Yes, I killed her," he answered in a low tone. "She's dead. Just like you're about to be."

"Now wait, wait!" Deshi leaned forward, his eyes wide. "Remember what reaper boy said! Remember? Remember he said! He said you can't kill me!"

"H-he said I shouldn't kill you," Crona's voice quavered slightly. "B-but he's not here right now...he doesn't see what you've done."

"Crona, stay in control…," Maka whispered to him as she stood by his side. She could recognize that expression on the meister's face…the way his eyes would get so frighteningly opaque, his stare focusing and shifting. His breath slipped quickly and rhythmically past his lips, and the muscles in his back and arms tightened as he clutched his arm, gripping the demon sword. It was almost frightening to see him like this, to remember how much power the swordsman really had when he was enraged or fueled by madness.

Crona nodded to Maka in response. He was trying his best to stay in his right mind, not like the other night when he had lost control. But it was so difficult, after spending his life giving in to the madness inside his blood, allowing it to take control for him. Killing was so much easier when he didn't have to think, when it became second nature, like breathing. Crona's eyes widened, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints as he stared at Deshi. The yellow haired boy seemed unfazed by the physical change in his opponent.

"Well, I've heard other rumors too," Deshi grinned as his free hand wiped a bit of blood off of his drill arm. "They're more than rumors, though…you know what they called you? Crona-almost-kishin. Almost. You couldn't even become kishin with the help of Medusa, could you? It's so funny! And you know, I guess I'm Deshi-almost-kishin. Of course it doesn't have the same nice ring to it as your title did…" The boy paused, glancing up to stare at Crona again, his eyes crazed and wild again. "How many souls, Crona? Demon child? How many souls did you swallow? That dark sword of yours…" His gaze slipped down to look at Ragnarok.

"Sh-shut up!" Crona cried, his voice wavering as he clutched his sword tighter. It was hard enough to push away the memories of his past, but now he was being reminded of them. It was horrifying, and making him anxious to the point of rage. The black blood pumped through his system faster, flooding his brain with madness. "I'll kill you!" he shouted again, taking a quick step forward.

"Almost kishin, almost kishin…demon child Crona," Deshi giggled madly as he sang to himself. "You know if Medusa and Oojo got along, we could be best friends! We could be kishin together! Wouldn't you like that?"

"I said shut up or I'll kill you!" Crona screeched, his patience wearing thin. Maka placed a hand on his shoulder, which he harshly recoiled away from. He wished that Maka weren't here so that he could let go and kill this kid already…

With a flash, Deshi's arm transformed back into its human form, though still coated with blood. He raised his hands defensively and smirked. "I changed back, see? No reason to kill me," he giggled again, his golden gaze taking in Crona's image. "Now can we be friends? You could help me slip out of these dirty clothes of mine, too…"

"I am placing you under arrest," Maka finally spoke up as she stepped ahead of Crona. "As a member of Spartoi, I am authorized to bring you in to Shibusen for interrogation. You can come willingly, or Crona can help you."

"I'll do more than help," Crona muttered under his breath. His shaky eyes still locked on to Deshi as he held up his sword, making sure that the boy didn't make any suspicious movements.

"What? You'll slice me to ribbons?" Deshi smiled as he brushed his hair back. "Oh, but…arrest? Oojo won't like that…"

"And where is she? The wasp witch?" Maka asked as she took another cautious step forward, being careful to avoid the puddles of blood that soaked the floor.

"Not in Death City," Deshi muttered as his smile twisted into a frown. "She sent me on my own this time. That means no flying away for me. No, no…I am stuck here with my friends."

"Don't call us friends!" Crona threatened, closing the space between himself and the boy then. The black blade pressed to Deshi's neck, ready to slash across his throat. "D-don't you dare…y-you don't know what I've gone through to be able to call Maka my friend…"

"Maka?" Deshi blinked, his golden eyes wide as he glanced at the girl again. "Is that who that is? Maka? What a lovely name, and yet…it doesn't sound so well when you say it with 'Crona'…"

Crona felt his face flush, slightly embarrassed by the small statement. He subconsciously pressed the blade harder against the boy's throat. Maka appeared by his side and grasped onto Deshi's hands, pulling them hard behind his back, eliciting a small squeak of pain from him.

"Wh-what do we do with him now?" Crona muttered, glancing at the scythe meister.

"We take him to Shibusen and put him in a cell," Maka answered firmly. "And then we report to Lord Death."

888

The meeting with Lord Death served more than one purpose, of course. Crona explained his experience with Deshi a few days earlier, though Kid had already expressed his opinion on the situation. Death was quick to forgive Crona as always, and so there seemed to be no harm done. Then, of course, Maka explained that they had captured Deshi, and that the boy was in a holding cell at the moment. Lord Death seemed pleased that they captured the boy before he could swallow any more souls. And with that, the two meisters were dismissed.

"At least you're off the hook for the other night," Maka offered a small smile to him as they walked down the hallway. "I think Lord Death knows that Kid can overreact sometimes."

"I-I guess so," Crona muttered, rubbing his arm nervously. He winced and looked down at his injured hand once again. Though the stitches were pulled open, and the black blood hardened around the wound, it still stung.

"So…Ragnarok has been quiet," Maka commented, glancing over at him again. She paused to look at Crona's back, half expecting the demon to emerge.

"I told you, he's mad at me," Crona mumbled, not wanting his weapon to hear him. "He hates me, Maka…a-and what's worse is he can't even get away from me."

Maka frowned, reaching to grasp his free hand. "You two will be okay…you've fought before."

"Not like this," Crona shook his head. He squeezed Maka's hand as a soft blush formed on his cheeks. His pace slowed to a stop just before they reached the academy's front doors. Before stepping out into the moonlight, he wanted to pause in the dark hallway for another moment. His gaze slipped down to stare at the floor. "M-Maka…before we left…" He trailed off, unsure of how to finish his statement.

Maka blushed as well, but kept her gaze on the boy before her. "We…we kissed, yes," she spoke softly, completing his thought.

"I-I've never…done anything like that before…," he admitted, somehow even more embarrassed than he ever had been in front of her. Despite her warm, calming wavelength, his soul was shaking as an anxious pressure sat on his chest.

"I…I've only…once," Maka let out a small sigh, slightly ashamed of herself for admitting this. Crona glanced up in surprise, his eyes wide with wonder and confusion. He didn't have to speak to convey his curiosity. Maka let out another sigh, her hand squeezing his tightly as she prepared herself to explain.

"It was a while ago…maybe a year or so after Soul and I partnered up…," she began slowly, allowing that much information to sink in. She was sure that he understood where this was going. "You know, the relationship between meisters and weapons is complicated…and though many times, partners fall in love, I guess…Soul and I misunderstood our relationship at the time. What we thought was romantic love was actually just a normal partnership, and platonic love…." She paused, glancing up to see Crona's expression twisted into one of confusion. She let out a small laugh, giving his hand another squeeze. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that Soul and I kissed…we tried to be together like that for a little while, but we both agreed that it wasn't working out like that between us. We decided to just be friends and partners instead."

Another break of silence hung between them as Crona slowly processed this information. After a while, he let out a small sigh and decided to respond. "So…y-you and Soul aren't…"

"We're just friends and partners," Maka repeated to assure him. Both of her hands clasped onto his, her fingers rubbing lightly over his knuckles.

"Wh-what does that make…you and m-me?" Crona mumbled, pushing the words out of his dry throat. His gaze shifted down again, staring at their linked hands. He watched as Maka's grip tightened around his limp fingers.

"I'm not sure…," she answered slowly. Crona flinched at the response and pulled his hand away as if it were touching a burning fire. Maka was quick to reach forward and catch his hand again, pulling it back in her grasp lightly as her eyes searched his. "What do you want us to be, Crona?"

"M-Maka, I…," he began, but trailed off again as his voice wavered. It was true that he felt so much for Maka. He admired her and adored her, he cherished every second he was in her presence. She had given him so much. She was his first friend, his first hug, and now his first kiss. She was his savior, his angel, giving him light in the dark madness that was his mind. Crona knew all of this, and he would easily admit to it, but he was unsure of how to put all of that into words.

"I still don't know how to deal with these feelings…even though I've felt them s-since the first time I met you…," Crona shifted uncomfortably as he spoke, too embarrassed and flustered to look into the girl's eyes. "I-I felt some sort of connection…because you reminded me of the…of that…" He paused, wincing at the memory of the little one, the little bunny that was so easy and yet so difficult to kill. That was like Maka. Maka was so easy to be around, and yet so difficult to be close to. His mind still struggled to put the words together to somehow explain his feelings to her. Of course, there was that one word…

"I-I'm scared of that word…," Crona breathed softly to himself, fighting back the tears that formed in his eyes.

"Scared of what, Crona?" Maka asked, stepping closer as she tried to read his expression. His eyes were hidden by the mess of pink hair that fell over his face. She reached up with a spare hand and brushed it aside, frowning when she noticed the tears welled up behind his dark blue eyes.

"Th-that word…I can't handle that word," Crona mumbled, his body shivering under the stress his mind pressed on him. "It hurts…"

Maka's expression twisted into one of confusion, and after a short pause, she finally responded. "Love?" she asked, and Crona flinched. "Crona…love isn't a bad thing."

"I-it's horrible," Crona shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "L-love is what made me stay with M-Medusa…love is what tore me apart and made me hurt my friends. It's confusing and horrible and I hate it." Salty, hot tears trickled down his cheeks in straight trails.

"But that's…you have the wrong idea," Maka responded softly. She pressed one of her palms to Crona's chest, causing him to gasp. "Love is what's beating in your heart. It's warm and comforting and friendly. It's a wonderful feeling…don't you feel it?"

"It hurts," Crona answered breathlessly. "Wh-when I'm around like this, it's h-hard to breathe. L-like there's a pressure on my chest. And I stutter a lot a-and I get so nervous and anxious and- and-"

Crona's words were cut short when Maka's lips pressed against his. He gasped against the kiss, his eyes wide in confusion, his body as still as stone. Why was she kissing him? What was happening? Why couldn't he get his final thoughts out? Why couldn't he tell her why this was so wrong?

"No Maka," Crona pulled away, blushing darkly but also looking ashamed. "I-I don't…I don't deserve you."

Smack!

Crona winced as a dictionary connected with his skull. His tearstained eyes opened to stare sadly at Maka, his lower lip trembling as he tried to fight off another sob. Maka pulled her book back, frowning as she took a step closer. Their bodies were almost touching, their chests heaving for breath against each other.

"What have I told you about hurting my friend?" she asked softly, her tone almost playful. "Crona, you of all people deserve love. You've never had a fair chance to feel it…"

"M-Maka…you're too good to me," Crona whimpered, wiping his eyes pathetically. His cheeks flushed darker, now with embarrassment. Why couldn't he be a man and stop crying? He almost wished that Ragnarok would come out and smack some sense into him…

"I love you, Crona," Maka smiled as she took his hand in hers again. "It's okay if you don't want to say it back to me yet, I understand. Just know that I love you, and like I told you before, I'm never leaving you."

Crona nodded, letting out a breathless sigh as his eyes slipped closed. Her soul was warming and enveloping his own once again. Once more, Maka's lips pressed against his own in a slow, soft kiss. As they pulled back, their foreheads leaned against each other's, eyes still closed in peaceful silence. Crona's lips parted again to whisper, "I love you, Maka."