Just wanted to take this moment to also thank those who have reviewed as guests. I'm glad to see you enjoy this story, as well as the input you give:) (one in particular given that mentioned a mistake I'm not even sure how I've missed for so long. It has been fixed.)
Now.*Cracks knuckles* It's summer time. Let's do this.
"Ultrasound images are supposed to be fuzzy and have areas of black in it, Crona." Stein proclaimed. "You can stop worrying. I see nothing wrong."
While Stein could see the concern shaking Crona's eyes, Maka felt it within his slick grip. Judging by the hold he had on his arm and her hand, she'd dare say he was more nervous than her at this appointment.
He looked down at his feet, cheeks burning with pink as he mumbled his apologies. Maka rubbed a comforting thumb against the side of his hand, smiling. When he acknowledged her with a light squeeze, she directed her gaze back to the screen.
Wet and sticky from the gel, the skin of Maka's revealed stomach tingled ticklishly. The transducer Stein held moved slowly over her hill's peak until the baby's image was seen in full. A tide bursting with wonder and astonishment washed over her.
Baby was no longer the tiny little thing she remembered. Rather, at her five and a half months, they were now the size of a papaya. Lack of movement paired with a strong heartbeat informed the doctor that Baby may have been sleeping. Through her staring hypnosis, the other details Stein spoke of became soft, unheard words in Maka's background.
Within the grainy image, she saw Baby's head had rounded, their body barely bigger than her fist, and the tiniest hands she ever knew were idling beside their unseen face.
Elation made her heart skip in her chest. Bright jade sought and found Crona's wide onyx, his mouth partially open, as if too baffled for words. He looked so entranced like she had been, he barely blinked. The tighter grip from her caught his attention, and the swordsman's eyes fell down onto Maka's.
His smile started slow and wobbly, like a worm wiggling through the dirt, but he managed it to sprout. He was happy, she knew, and through triggering awake the focused scanning of her Soul Perception, Maka saw the light of brighter emotions shining off his soul.
"You've been dodging the question for awhile, and now would be a good time as any to make up your mind." Stein spoke up. He looked away from the ultrasound's screen to look at Maka. "It's either yes or no. Would you like to know the gender?"
Crona's caressing stroke on Maka's hand turned into a clamp. The question would have been answered quickly when she struck four months, but Crona had not yet made up his mind, fighting between whether knowing now was worse, or waiting until the baby came.
Maka was sure of her answer and Crona noticed when she glanced up at him, waiting with a soft grin. She had always known. She just wanted to make sure he had an answer of his own too.
Beneath the dark grey overcoat he wore, Maka saw his chest inflate from a deep inhale. He nodded, uttering, "Y-Yes. Yes please."
The doctor fixed his eyes on the screen, a glaze of light coating his glasses. "Tell Soul he and Tsubaki won the betting pot, Crona. You two have yourselves a girl."
Crona reddened and Maka was left stunned. Silence swept through the room with only the hum from the machine being heard.
In some odd maternal sense of foresight, she thought Baby would be a boy. She believed Marie when she proposed the possibility based off their increase in activity, how their kicks could transform from ticklish flutters to feeling like a hard heel being dug into her gut.
She laughed a little. Maka knew payback came in all sorts of forms, and she had a feeling her daughter would be sure to let her know how it felt to handle a child with a short temper.
She was as good as screwed.
"The only thing I can really be sad about is that I can't use Crona Jr. anymore." Maka joked. In the corner of her eye, she saw Baby's father breathe out a long sigh, a hand held to his chest in what looked to be relief. Her playfulness flowered. "Or, maybe I could. Your name is an ambiguous one. I just might find a way to use it for her."
Crona stiffened. A flash of fearful tension sped through his eyes, then evolved into soft surprise. He stared at her, and after a moment, Maka noticed.
She had said her.
It was the first time Maka ever attached a gender to Baby, unsure- and honestly, not preferring- if they had been a boy or a girl. Or both, as twins was one of her deeper fears.
After Stein cleaned off the gel, Crona helped pull her up, the lifted shirt flap falling down from her rise. Sitting on the edge of the examination bed, Maka ran an affectionate hand down the rise and fall of her belly.
Baby was definitely asleep. They-She made sure to let mother know when she was awake by stretching or kicking when dissatisfied with what Maka had eaten. She laughed anxiously, noticing that Baby was also picky and not afraid to show when she was upset.
Two curled fingers encased in black leather gloves placed themselves next to her hand-a tactic she helped Crona adopt to steadily grow more comfortable with his touch. He kept his smile, it seeming a little wider than she remembered. He may not have been able to be very vocal of his affections, but by his hold on her hand and soft rub on her expanded abdomen, she knew Crona loved their daughter too.
"As much as I hate to kill the moment, it's time for Crona to leave." Stein brought a small table from the corner of the room and set a chair next to it. "The appointment is over, and Maka needs to take the exam from earlier this week. You can wait in the living room until she's done."One serious green eye escaped the shield of light blocking his lenses. "And maybe while you wait, you can do a little studying. I wasn't impressed by the seventy-three percent you got. You're smarter than that, so try paying more attention in class."
The swordsman ducked his head, his smile turning nervous. He unfastened his hand from Maka's to slip into the glove he took off. He planted a soft, lingering kiss to her temple before leaving the room.
As Stein followed Crona out to retrieve her test, Maka stayed on the exam bed. Her bump was large enough to allow her hand to cup the bottom, like she could carry it. Moving her thumb in soothing circles, she thought of Crona; of his long rope of patience, his careful politeness, and gentle, non-volatile nature.
"Please, be like him." Maka whispered. Her eyes wrenched shut, as if she was a little girl again, hoping with all her might for her wish to come true. "Please. Please."
"Oh I'm so happy for you two!" Marie's arms held Crona tighter in a spine-crushing hug, his legs hovering above the floor. He gasped for breath, lungs burning as she rocked him side to side in. "This is so exciting! I can't wait to see the little darling and Henry will have a new niece to play with!" She paused. Her grip loosened, allowing Crona's body to flop backwards over her forearms, taking the form of a serving towel with his arms swaying and eyes spinning. "Although, I'm not sure how to feel about my two year-old already becoming an uncle. It does feel a bit strange." After a moment, Marie shrugged, and flipped Crona back up to squeeze him into a hug again.
His back arched from her tight hold, his spine feeling like it was being reduced to brittle splinters. "I-I'm very glad to see you're happy!" Crona gasped out. His arms throbbed painfully, yet he managed to take hold of Marie's shoulders, and gently guide her off him. "W-We're happy too. Now...m-may I please have a moment to breathe?"
He sat on the couch, resting as the animated weapon sat next to her son playing on the carpet, her eyes bright. "How do you like the sound of that, sweetie? Aren't you excited for a new playmate?"
Henry babbled, more entertained and happy by the company of his toys and movie rather than hearing the news of his niece. The stuffed monkey he cradled, a gift from his brother, was now drool encrusted with an ear bitten off. He flopped its furry limbs around the toy truck, letting out high-pitched roars as padded hands slapped the small firemen in the shape of eggs off.
Pain prickled along Crona's spine and Ragnarok came forth, sitting on his head to peer down. "Gotta admit, booger-breath has the right idea. Toys aren't fun unless you put them against each other and duke it out." Ragnarok glanced around and let out a disappointed huff. "Pheh, but all he's got are those lame-o color blocks and cars with midgets. Next time you go to the toy store for your she-brat or fudge pants over there, get some action figures. Better yet, get one of those soldiers with a machine gun and kung-fu grip. It's more exciting."
Before Crona could protest, Marie wagged a scolding finger. "Ah ah, those toys aren't suitable for a toddler, especially not an infant. Besides, Crona will probably get more dolls and stuffed animals than toy soldiers. Oh, and won't that be so cute to see you how you two play with her!"
A groan slipped from the meister-weapon pair and Crona hid his face behind his hands.
Handling the toys Henry had was easy, comfortable, and fairly easy to relate to. But hearing Marie go on about how girls played dress-up- either with dolls or themselves- and experimented with make-up made his stomach twist and lips form into a nervous, serpentine formation.
He couldn't figure out how he was going to deal with handling all of that.
Ragnarok took a hold of Crona's cheeks and lifted him up from his fence of fingers. "Just so we're clear. You put any dolls near me, I'll shove them so far up your ass, the pigtails will sprout out and people will ask if you dye your ear-hairs blonde."
Crona yanked the ball-hands away from his face, frowning. "I-If we're going to be playing, I'd rather you not be around the toys at all. Last time we played with Henry, you tried to eat some of the plastic food."
"Hey, you can't put something that looks like pizza and a burger in front of me and expect me not to eat it. What the hell were those toy makers thinking anyway? Making those kinds of foods is a big fat tease!"
"Even so, they put not edible on the box!"
"Yeah, right. Like a box is going to tell me what to do."
He could never sway the mindset of his partner, so Crona sighed, giving up. The cocky formation of blood snickered in triumph. He grabbed two of Henry's cowboy toys sitting on the couch next to him to examine them.
"Have you thought of any names yet?" Marie asked from her place on the carpet.
Sheepishly, Crona scratched the back of his head. "We've been trying to come up with something, but w-we always find problems with them. We uh…we can't really make up our minds."
"Did she want to use Kami's name? Or another name that was Japanese?"
"I'm um…I'm not sure. I haven't asked." And he hadn't for a reason. While the love was there, he could tell Maka didn't like many reminders of the mother who left her, and he feared having a baby with the same name would feed that sadness. "B-But I'll ask her just in case. Thank you."
Marie's graceful smile helped scare away the quiet creeping of anxiety within him. "Well, if you haven't decided, I know somebody who would really appreciate you using their name. It's so simple and would make her oh-so happy. It could even be the middle name and she'd still be grateful."
Her sing-song tone and wink produced a tiny smile from Crona, catching the obvious implication that she spoke about herself. "I'll be sure to run your name by her too."
Marie grinned radiantly, chuckling as she turned away. Crona watched her and Henry move cars across the colorful patterns woven into the carpet, using them like they were streets. The small boy giggled, his laughs from his mother pretending to tickle him with his own stuffed animal all Crona heard until another voice caught his attention.
"You think you're a pretty slick son of a bitch, don't you?" A shrill voice asked. "You come here on my turf, steal my shit, and expect to get away with it?"The voice changed into a lower, gravelly tone, one that's drawn up from the back of the throat. "Damn right I do. I'm the toughest bastard in this town, so I say fuck you. This is my territory now."
Crona glanced up and found Ragnarok holding the two cowboy toys in front of each other, one in each hand. "You don't get off my property, I'll pump your guts full of lead!" His voice transitioned into the low tone again. "Don't make me laugh. You ain't got the balls to face me." It changed again. "Come on then! Bring it on!"The higher-pitched tone went husky again. "Alright ya yellow-belly. Come at me! I'll beat your ass so good, it'll-"
Ragnarok then stuffed one of the small toys into his mouth, gurgling a roar while fake chewing. He made the shrill-voiced toy cry out in fear, body moving side to side in panic. "Oh god! I-It's here! It's come for me. Have mercy, oh great and powerful-!'
He feigned another cry of pain as he threw the last piece into his mouth, roaring bestially, and shaking his head side to side like a rabid dog does to dinner. He waved his arms, drool dripping down his chin and munched on his plastic victims.
The demon then stopped. He glanced down, finding Marie's eyebrow raised, Crona's lips pulled down in a baffled gape with the grey-haired toddler staring.
He took the slobbery toys out of the side of his cheeks, inquiring, "What? Haven't you guys ever seen a monster movie before?"
"Not…with that kind of setting." Crona muttered awkwardly. "A cowboy monster movie?"
"It's called using your imagination, dipwad. How else am I supposed to make a fight between two cowboys interesting without throwing some monster action into it?"
Crona didn't dare respond. He'd only feed his weapon more ideas to mutilate the cowboys and the last thing he needed was more drool speckling his shoulders and enduring more frightening acting like that.
Marie began to giggle.
"And what are you laughing at?" Ragnarok asked.
"Nothing." Marie said with motherly awe. "I thought that was very cute of you, Ragnarok. Almost too cute. You're just as imaginative as my little Henry here."
What could be taken as a scowl came over the Demon Sword's face. "I am so much cooler and creative than your little nostril digger."
Marie moved over to them, her index finger and thumb acting like a crab's pincer, as if to pinch his cheeks. "I'm not so sure about that. You're as adorable as ever."
The proud sword of evil gagged. "Pheh, don't make me sick. And get your nasty paws away from me! You dare call this face adorable and cute? Woman, my body was once so huge and badass, I could pick you up, fly you up to the moon, and drop you until you went ker-splat on the ground! I'm a hard-ass, not an adorable fruitcake."
Her eyes happily slipped shut with her smile. As Ragnarok crossed his arms defiantly, she placed gentle pats to the top of his head. "Sure you are. But to me, you'll always my cute little mini-Ragnarok."
Ragnarok gave Marie an odd look, like he saw her as a martian, then flailed his arms angrily. "I didn't come out here to be insulted, you wrinkling pirate!" Ragnarok threw the drool-covered toys to the ground. "Take your cuddly crap and stuff it up your ass. I'm outta here."
The sword heatedly recoiled into his meister.
Crona was astonished and looked to a proudly grinning Marie. "It's always kindness that steers his types away," she said. "You know it, Stein knows it, and he's no different. You and Maka might want to think about using that tactic."
A small curve lifted the side of Crona's lips. Marie always had a knack of reading people, how to approach them, talk to them, and she finally gave him a way to handle Ragnarok without violence. "Looks like I'll have to after seeing how effective it was. He hasn't run away so fast in…well, ever."
The Death Scythe gave him another wink. "First time for everything."
With Ragnarok gone and Marie sitting next to her son, Crona focused on the TV. Henry awed with wondering sounds in front of it, leaving fingerprints from where his pudgy hands touched the glass. It was like he tried to reach into the movie, and when he failed, Henry plopped back on his bottom, a pouting noise slipping out from him.
The movies Henry liked were strange to Crona. So much so, that he wondered why the cartoons sang their feelings or thoughts in replacement of talking; that seemed…so much more tedious and exhausting.
But what confused him more was the lullaby sung in the beginning of this movie, how despite being different creatures and the baby retrieved was branded as an outcast, the caretaker claimed she would always be with him, even if their bodies weren't near, she was present in his heart. Henry watched it so often, Crona saw she stayed true to her words, regardless of the troubles brought from her son's decisions.
Crona brought his legs up to his chest, hugging them. It could be that he was puzzled because unlike the boy, he had a parent related by blood, but his treatment was far from the kindness and care the female ape brought her adopted son, their bonds being as strong as steel.
Maybe he was jealous. Or maybe he just didn't understand how such a bond could exist at all.
Shivers jolted him when arms lassoed around his neck, a warm pressure settling on the side of his face. Untangling himself, he glanced to his right, and found Maka nuzzling her cheek against his. In front of him, her hands brought up a dark, grainy picture, and when his gloved hands took it, Maka told him Stein gave her a picture to keep at their side.
"And this is only the beginning." Maka spoke with more excitement towards this than he was used to. "She's only a pound now, but there's still much more to come."
That made it all the more stranger to Crona.
Everyone started out so vulnerable and small, like Baby in the picture. To him, it seemed like some never escaped that phase while others managed to break free and grow stronger; like Black Star, like Kid, Soul, and Maka. It was upsetting that he was still in that stage. Free for two years, but still too afraid.
"Crona just told me the news! Marie whizzed by Crona to envelope Maka in one of her softer, less life-threatening hugs."Congratulations! And if you have any doubts, don't you worry. I could always feel it in my bones: you're going to be an excellent mother."
Crona's muscles spasmed into a clench, crumpling the edges where he held the photo. A lightning flash of Medusa's sneer and glimmering, yellow eyes passed through his own. Cold slid through him, its bite sharp and painful, and he clenched his arm tight in hopes the memories would disappear; ones of the dark room, the Little One, of rotting, bloodied wood floors.
She wasn't here. Medusa couldn't hurt him anymore. She was long dead, yet the simple mention of what she was to him made him spiral into a tight, conflicted mess. The sight of his clenching ripping parts on Baby's photo only made his fingers sink deeper into muscle.
His grip was designed to be bone-crushing. If he had been holding Henry right now, if he was holding her whenever he was triggered…h-he would have…
Warm fingers threaded through the hair on the side of Crona's face, bringing it up. An arm encircling around his neck coupled with a long kiss to his temple made him shudder. The havoc in his brain and chatter of past nightmares quieted, and Maka rubbed her cheek against his again.
"Stein can give us another copy." she said comfortingly. "Don't worry so much. It's only paper."
Her temple touched his and Crona couldn't refuse replying with a small nudge. Taking off one of his gloves, the feel of her forearm against his hand relaxed him, his thumb moving in gentle strokes across it. He made sure to keep his eyes on the photo where Maka focused rather than glace at Marie's adoring expression or see Henry as he repeated his disgusted drawl of ewww.
Maka made a small gasp. "Oh crap, I forgot!" She shot up from Crona and looked at the clock. "We're late! I told the guys we'd meet them at three and it's almost ten minutes 'till! The ripped picture will have to do for now!" The hurrying meister grabbed her boyfriend's jacket collar, tugging him along until they reached the door. "We'll meet you two there. Thanks again for your time, professor!"
Marie warded off her gratitude with politeness, the approaching Stein giving a nod, and waved goodbye as they excited the lab to enter the cold, brisk air of the city.
"There was an actual bet on what gender Baby was going to be?" Maka asked with a raised eyebrow.
Crona made a nervous side-grin. "T-They started it after you went on leave at the academy." He made sure not to mention that others outside their friendship circle-Black Star and Soul counting down nearly the entire class- who were also in on the bet.
"And Black Star, Patty, and Kid lost?"
"Kid didn't participate. But yes, Black Star and Patty lost."
Maka's mouth curled into a content sneer. "Then I can't wait to see Black Star's face when he hears he lost something. Come on! I don't want to wait any longer!"
She pulled excitedly on his hand, and Crona let out a sound of surprise. Even with the growing dome on her abdomen stopping her from training, Maka retained enough energy and power to haul him through the city streets, fervently looking for their friends. She always did do the best with what she had, no matter what the obstacles.
Crona believed in few things. One of those few included Maka being like the mother ape from Henry's movie: caring and loving despite differences. Her treatment towards him-how she nursed his fears and pulled him up after he fell-was enough for him to see that she'd do the same to the baby sleeping in the picture his back-pocket carried.
A lone candle burned upon her desk. With its light, she sketched long, careful lines along the paper. Monitors flickered and buzzed on the rocky walls, illuminating the tunnels connecting her quarters to other areas within her anthill base.
A whisper for her attention floated in the back of her head and the scribbles she wrote upon her parchment stopped. "I trust that you finally found something worthy of interrupting me?" The witch asked flatly.
"Perhaps so, my lady." A gruff voice answered. "The streets are nearly barren with people flocking to the the city's center. I've spotted fireworks as well. Perhaps there is a festival taking place."
Indigo eyebrows plucked thin joined together. "You interrupted my work to inform me of a festival? Are you expecting me to drop everything and jump in?"
"I only wished to propose an opportunity to scout potentials, my lady. There has been talk of a tourney for quite some time, and I do not possess your prowess in stealthy observing. I was hoping you would help guide me."
The witch scoffed.
Though his mind was undeniably hers, Prototype Two managed to retain his silver tongue. He was a lackey with a semi-competent mind, yet she found it amusing when he used what was left of his wits to tip-toe around her anger.
"You're asking me for a favor?" she questioned coldly. ""Are you so inept you can't do this yourself?"
"I'm asking for a lesson." Prototype Two replied. "I can hide myself expertly. But around a large crowd of people which may harbor students who recognize my face, I feel I should seek counsel from someone with experience in these situations."
"Then perhaps you aren't fit for this task. I can find another to look for me."
"The tourney is held in the coliseum this time, my lady. They do not allow pets. Those set of eyes we have wandering about the city will have to stay outside, and it's possibly for the best. They can cause a ruckus."
Shaula frowned. While her directly infected worked, the strong willed did have a tendency to fight against the poison. They barked and screeched more, and some caring owners grew suspicious when their pets acted like they didn't recall their faces-another irritating side-effect.
But it's not like the human beasts would truly concern themselves with lesser creatures, anyway. The owners would off them if she did not kill them first.
"If I find my focus has been wasted on an insignificant carnival, I won't hesitate to drop you where you stand." she promised darkly.
It wasn't a statement. She would do it, he knew that. But through her leeched connection, she could feel her faithful follower widen his grin. "If that turns out to be so, I will accept my death gladly, Lady Shaula."
A sly sneer crept across her lips. "Good."
Shaula closed her eyes. With his mind already possessed, taking over the eyes and body of Prototype Two was simple. He was standing in the dark depths of an alley, watching fireworks burst with color in the sky, crowds of people passing by the alley's opening.
He was disguised well enough as a citizen. His eye brandishing her influence was covered by an eye patch and wore gloves to hide his index finger's stinger. She put his hood on and ordered the tool's body to follow the crowd. Weaving her way in was easy, but the frustration of being in a large throng of people was not nearly as irritating as waiting in a long line outside the coliseum for a near two hours.
She could admit that the interior was finely designed when Prototype Two entered; it was a true pity to be stationed in the vile, boring place that was Death City. Keeping Prototype Two's face hidden, Shaula maneuvered him into the highest part of the stands to take a seat. When his eyes peered at the arena, she noticed a banner was spread out over an archway, broadcasting the bold words of "Battle Festival".
The jaw of her true body wound tight. Snapping her eyes open, Shaula refused to look any longer, biting to her subject that he will continue without her; it would be the last time she held his hand, and now he will do the rest alone.
Pressing a pen back her notes, memories overwhelmed her.
They were celebrating that accursed Halloween festival again. That damnable celebration of her failure when children barely qualifying as fighters confronted her to reclaim their ditz of a friend.
Had she not been so cocky, high off her satisfaction and power, the job would have been finished. Instead, when a resonance between two girls and their pigtailed halberd jeopardized the strength of her enchanted braid, she was forced to perform a dying act, reach into a dimensional circle opening behind her back, and retrieve a witch soul she kept in storage to put in place of her own. After embarrassing herself with an outcry of feigned pain and running away before their backs could turn, she had to release her research projects, only keeping the few who came to her under control before the Soul Protect spell could close around her again.
And as she fled in shame outside the city walls, Shaula swore she had heard laughter. It was dark and poisonous, mocking her from Shibusen's infirmary all the way to the exterior of Death City.
She knew it came from her.
"I fear you'll rip your valuable notes if you write any harder, Lady Shaula." A raspy voice claimed. "It would be a shame to lose your hard work."
Shaula's head whipped around, finding the cloaked form of her sharp-toothed drone standing near a craggy passageway. "Is there a rebellion happening that goes against my order to not be disturbed?" she snapped. "You're there to stand guard, Freddy. Not feed me your concerns."
Freddy bowed his head. "Forgive me. I was under the assumption you were heated toward me after informing you of your experiment's flat-line. He has been gone for quite some time now."
The witch's sharp glance morphed into an impassive stare. That, at least, was news she had been expecting."Where did you put him and how long did he last?"
A knife replacing a finger lifted out of his baggy sleeves, pointing to the steel table across from her. "He is over there and lasted for about three hours. I thought he would last longer than the others and keep singing his little song for me. But he quit too soon." A sad sigh escaped him, directing his sharp finger to pick at his teeth. "I'm sad, really. I was beginning to enjoy his noises. He was a bit choppy at times, but it was pleasing nonetheless."
Listening to her follower in one ear, Shaula focused on the paper on her desk with hollow eyes. Where she had drawn an arm, the forearm turned into the winding body of a vector-arrowed snake. An arrow had sunk into the middle of the head, wooden ends of used arrows erupting from its back, as if to staple it to the floor. She had sketched it so hard, her lead marks were pitch black and engraved the paper.
Six hundred years gone and the hate towards her sister never faded.
Shaula stood up and walked to the steel table. A boy no older than fifteen lay on the cold bed, his veins dyed black and drew around his chest, neck, and arms like an intricate maze. The color in his eyes started to die, along with the peach complexion of his skin.
"Another toy broken." Shaula mused. She turned his head to face her. "What a shame."
Across the way, the witch caught her guard's mouth stretch wide into a dagger-toothed, Cheshire Cat smile. "Shall I help dispose of him for you, my lady? I would be more than happy to assist."
By the dribble of drool gliding down his chin, he was eager, and had she not been lacking in skilled soldiers, she would have let him for observation's sake. "No. After eating this one, you'll get more than just a stomach ache. Take the body to the burners and I want no parts of him eaten when you get there. I'll have your comrades check."
The demented cannibal's smile died, disappointed. He gave an obeying nod and carried the corpse out of the room.
"There are many other toys here, my lady." The voice in her head spoke. "If you would like, I could collect one for you."
"You are also in a heavily guarded city teeming with enemies at every corner. Try to, and I'll take off the head you refuse to use."
Shaula ignored the apologies and over admiring compliments Prototype Two spewed. She sat back on the finely carved chair near her desk, her dual-torched eyes of purple and pink blazing with thought.
They were not able to take a student, yes. But as always, they could still observe.
Shaula closed her eyes again, taking over Prototype Two's eyes.
Her drone had managed to find a seat closer to the front row. Cheers and noises howled and screamed around them as introductory music blared. An elongated mirror stood in the middle of an arena, the image of the famous Lord Death resting inside, sporting a few more fissures on his mask than she remembered. He greeted and thanked all who came to the Halloween tourney. His son, two lines complete and donned in a suit stood by the mirror's side, a pair of women standing behind him.
Her interest died once Death's son started his own long introductory speech and announced the competitors. She fought off a yawn and glanced over the heads in the crowd.
Shaula nearly shot open her own eyes. She had Prototype Two rub his eyes in replacement, and glanced again to be sure.
Forcing Prototype Two's body up, Shaula went as far down the stands as she could go. The first two rows were cut off, so she led his body around the circle barrier of the arena until she could see her target in front of her.
It was just like she had seen. A familiar tuft of pink hair sat in the front row, his face telling her that he was still the timid, gangly thing Medusa brought forth. But like the time she saw him outside her base, Crona was not alone.
A blue-haired boy whose shouts could be heard across the stadium fumed at the albino Death Scythe sitting on Crona's right. He left with a childish huff before jumping into the arena, Soul Eater smirking. Three women sat to Crona's left, a blonde who grew with child and an excited raven-head and an eye-patched blonde chatting with her. Then she glanced back to Lord Death, his son, the rows of weapons and meisters.
She released her hold on Prototype Two and brought a hand to her forehead. Sharp and breathless, a chuckle left her throat in a shudder. Then there were two more; three, before she threw her head back, her laughs rising with such volume, it traveled along the halls of her base.
"This is wonderful." She giggled, sounding unnaturally high-pitched. "Wonderful. This is quite a crowd and all of them are on display just for me."She wrapped her arms around her stomach, curling over herself as she laughed.
Within her brain, Prototype Two asked her, "Once their battles are finished, shall I gather one for you when they are alone, my lady?"
"No." She shot her head up, sternness quickly replacing her joy. "I'm patient just like all the other eager children. My gifts can wait. I have something much better in mind for you" Her lips peeled back, curling into a contemptuous smile. "Get out of the stadium. At my command, take off your stinger. It's time to see how devoted you truly are."
Her tool obeyed. Before Prototype Two exited, she focused to use his eyes again, staring at the laughing group of teenagers.
A girl with pink hair had come up to them, laughing. She pointed at her head, the other aimed to the blonde's swelling stomach. All of them laughed while Crona sat there with that ridiculous blush on his face.
The display only grew larger, and perhaps once she assigned a set of eyes to watch the raccoon witch, she'd find out where her gift to her precious knight went all those months ago.
The lullaby from Henry's movie was "You'll be in My Heart"-Tarzan. Disney always did have a way with destroying my feelings.