Thank you all for reading you are all fabulous


The next morning, her usual hour of training feels easier than ever, and Maka seems to enjoy it more than ever. In fact, she's enjoying life at the academy just fine – it beat out starving and bouts of intense paranoia, anyway. It had been several weeks, but she still hadn't had much time to really explore, or introduce herself to anybody properly.

So when Stein tells her that he's happy with her progress, and that she can stop coming in for daily checkups, she's quite excited at the prospect of having a little more time on her hands.

"Once a week should suffice," he informs her, half obscured behind his giant clipboard. Maka wonders what he writes on that thing. Sometimes, she suspects that he's just doodling to himself. "You're doing well. You're acclimating to the, ahem, food we serve here," he sends her a dry look, insinuating that the so-called 'food' was anything but. "And your wound has cleared up most promisingly," he informs her, his eyes gleaming. "May I also take this time to congratulate you on the sutures you gave Mr. Evans?" he tells her. "I took a look at his injury. Very nice handiwork. You would do well with some tutelage..." he mutters the last part, something a little mischievous in his tone.

She sits up straighter and flashes him a grateful, if a little nervous, smile. "Thank you, doctor," she says, sincerely. "I really appreciate it."

He gives her strange look, like he might be analysing her somehow, and tilts his head forward in the slightest of nods. "How are you feeling, anyway?" he asks, slowly; curiously. "Mentally?"

She beams. "Mentally? I feel great," she emphasises. "Better than ever… or at least, a long time," she adds. She tries not to think about her strange tryst with Soul last night, wondering if that's why she's in such high spirits.

Stein nods. "That is normal," he tells her. "I imagine it's a result of the nutrients in the energy drinks," he informs her, with just the slightest of condescending smiles. "After all, it's been about three weeks since you have started taking it. That is usually when we…" he pauses, for effect. "…see the effects. Enjoy it while it lasts, that's my advice, Miss Albarn."

She narrows her eyes, the smile sliding right off her face. "What does that mean?"

"It means… well, in layman's terms – the nutrients in the drink are designed to induce rapid muscle restoration, and brain function. That is to say… you're making up for lost time."

"So?" she asks, not getting his point.

"We have found in the past, with other survivors, that once their brain function reaches its normal capacity, and they no longer have to worry about survival… that they begin to really process their emotions, for the first time."

She frowns. "Uh, what?"

"You may find that you are suddenly having to process the loss of loved ones, of your former life… in a way that you have not previously been able to."

She blinks, a few seconds passing as his words seem to seep into her mind and she registers his meaning. "Wait, so I'm going to suddenly feel all the feelings I've been repressing for three years?" she snorts. "Jesus..."

He gives her a sort of apologetic nod. "It's not guaranteed, but it's a well-documented side effect of our treatments," he explains. "If you… need somebody to talk to, Nygus can offer exceptional counselling and Marie is very skilled in h-" he pauses suddenly, self-censoring as he talks. "…in emotional healing, as it were," he corrects whatever he was about to say.

Maka nods. "I'll keep it in mind," she tells him. "Thanks, doc."

He opens the door for her. "Stay well, Miss Albarn," he advises.

She pauses in the door to turn back. "Oh, doctor – I had another question, actually," she remembers. "It's about my… weapon blood."

Stein glances up at her, his interest piqued. "Oh?"

"Soul and I have been practicing, but I wasn't having much luck. I did manage to turn my arm into a scythe for a split second, but then.. I don't know, it felt very strange. I couldn't hold it for long," she recounts, her voice taking on a far-away quality. "Do you have any advice? You're a weapon, aren't you?"

Professor Stein nods. "I am," he answers. "I must say, it's most unusual that you are having so much trouble. Most weapons will tell you that turning is the most natural thing in the world for them. Many I have taught first transformed by accident," he pushes his glasses up his nose, scientifically. "It is possible that despite having weapon blood… that you are not a natural weapon, Maka."

The use of her first name unnerves her. "W-what do you mean?"

"Far be it from me to dash your efforts at honing your weapon form – but there are cases in which somebody with weapon blood is just simply not naturally gifted at controlling that form," he explains. "Many go their entire lives and never find out."

Her face looks crestfallen. "So… you're saying that I should give up?" she asks, blatant disappointment in her tone of voice.

"I'm surprised that you are so deeply invested," he tells her frankly. "Considering that you had no idea that this way of life even existed, only a mere twenty-five days ago."

She sighs, a deep frown appearing on her forehead. "To be honest, I thought it would help me to feel close to my Papa," she reveals. "I miss him."

The professor nods in understanding. "I see," he replies, mysteriously, clicking his pen and scribbling something down on his clipboard. Maka yearns to know what he wrote down, but she resists the temptation to ask. "Well, I've been wrong before. Being wrong is part and parcel of the scientific method," he smiles placidly.

She doesn't reply, but purses her lips into a grim, determined line. "I'd better go…" she edges closer to the other side of the door frame, realising that she's been standing in it this whole time. "Sorry. I know you're busy."

"Any time, Miss Albarn," Stein tells her. "Oh – before you go," he seems to remember something, and Maka stops in her tracks. "You should be aware that there's a strict curfew in place, here at the academy. Only senior members of staff are allowed to be out of their rooms past ten o'clock," he sends her a glance. "I only warn you because Miss Marie told me she went to check on you last night to bring you some water – and found that you weren't in your room."

Maka opens her mouth to defend herself, but Stein jumps in first. "Nobody will cause trouble this time. But for future reference, you understand?" he asks. "I would hate to see you make such progress, only to make a silly mistake..."

She freezes.

Why does that sound like a threat?

Maka's throat feels tight. Nothing Professor Stein has said is new information, but something about the passive, low tone of his voice make the words sound threatening on his lips. "O-ok," she stammers, backing out of the door.

"You had better run along, Miss Albarn," he advises. "I have a lot of patients to get through, today."

She waits until she's out of the long infirmary hallway, and then she starts to run.


Three knocks, just to mess with him.

No… four. Four knocks or he'll never hear the end of it from Kid.

He knocks four times.

"Please come in," he hears a clipped voice come from the other side of the heavy, oaken door.

It doesn't creak like it used to, Soul notices. "Did you oil your door?" he asks Kid incredulously, as he walks into the boss's office.

Kid sighs, and smiles tiredly. "Hello, Soul. Yes, I did. The creak was bothering me."

Soul bites his lip, refraining from calling into question Kid's sense of priority when there were literally people starving, and the world was running out of resources. "Fair enough," he says instead.

Kid rubs his temples. "What can I do for you?"

"Relax, Kid. Can't you take a day off?" Soul asks. "You're going to burn yourself out."

Kid smiles at the thought, and waves to Soul, offering him a seat in the centre of the room. "Please."

Soul decides to stay standing, so as not to diminish his power in the conversation. "I mean it, Kid. You look really tired. Surely this place runs itself these days?"

Kid nods. "Usually, it does run itself pretty smoothly. Rules are well-established. Food isn't in short supply, not anymore," he glances up at Soul. "Not like it was before you left."

Soul nods, shrugging over the comment. "So what's up?"

"I've been taking on some extra training, on the side," he explains. "Those two gun-types you picked up in Utah," he pauses. "They are proving to be a most valuable asset. I meant to offer you my thanks sooner, but as you said… I have been busy."

"Oh, you like 'em?" Soul grins. "Patty takes a little… getting used to. She's certainly intense."

Kid nods. "They lack discipline, but they are incredibly resilient," he pauses. "Did they ever tell you that they grew up on the streets of Brooklyn…?"

Soul nods. "We spent the entire journey from Salt Lake to here together," he chuckles. "They probably tell you their mother's favorite brand of banana bread," he points out.

"Ah, I see," Kid nods. He doesn't laugh, but then again, Soul's not surprised by it. Kid wasn't particularly known for his sense of humor, at least not these days. "Well, you should pay them a visit. The twins told me that they haven't seen you since that first week you came back."

Soul feels a pang of guilt. "Oh… I, uh…" his brain scrambles to think of a response. "I just hadn't really thought about it," he admits. "I've been kind of preoccupied, I guess. You know I don't feel comfortable being here, at the academy," Soul shifts the subject, and Kid changes the subject.

"Miss Marie tells me that Maka didn't sleep in her room last night," he says.

Soul scowls and shoves his hands in his pockets. "So?"

"So, am I to assume that she… slept at yours? Tsubaki tells me how close you two are," Kid comments. "I don't mean to pry."

"Then why are yo-"

"-we have rules here for a reason, Soul. We have a curfew. Maka is supposed to stay in her room, where we can account for her."

Soul's frown falls lower. "I was told that four-stars were allowed to break the rules," he points out, shrugging.

Kid purses his lips. "You were a four-star, before you left us," he corrects. Soul totally ignores this. "And Maka was never a four-star. She is new."

The two young men stare at each other in stalemate for a few seconds. Soul's expression is almost akin to a glare, if he were prone to such dramatic efforts.

"Come on, Kid," Soul addresses his old boss quietly, his tone uncommonly sincere. "We're friends."

Kid is quiet for a time, too, and then his façade cracks. "Fine, fine," he tuts. "Soul. I can make an exception," he smiles, and for the first time since Soul's been back, he recognises the old Kid. "But only because we're friends," he adds.

"Really?"

"Yes. Everything I have is because of nepotism," he laughs, his mind flickering briefly to his father. He shakes the thought away, and addresses Soul with a friendly smile. "I am glad that you are… moving on, from everything that happened. With Kim."

Soul's eyes flicker down with guilt after Kid mentions the name and he shrugs. "Well, I had eventually. I doubt Ox will ever forgive me."

Kid shakes his head. "You're right, I doubt he ever will," he agrees, ever the straight-talker. "And I'm happy that you are happy, truly. Do whatever you want… within reason," Kid says leniently. "As long as it keeps you from drinking," he adds, with a little flicker of his brow. "Or leaving."

Soul's eyes fall even lower, and he doesn't attempt to reply. Suddenly the tone in the room becomes heavy, losing the light spirit it had had a few seconds prior.

Kid shuffles something around on his desk, creating white noise to fill the awkward silence, and reproachfully asks: "…did you come in here to tell me you are leaving, then?"

Soul shakes his head. "No, but…" he pauses. "I just… I don't like what you're doing here, Kid. I don't like what's happened to this place," he admits, finally voicing the concerns that have been on his mind for weeks.

There's a pause. Soul waits for Kid to explain why he's wrong; why the academy is doing everything right - but it seems that after all these years, Kid is still capable of surprising him.

Instead of launching into a public relations campaign, he exhaustedly rests his chin on his hands; propping himself up with his elbows on the hard mahogany desk before him. A protracted sigh escapes his lips, before he mutters: "I know. Sometimes, I don't, either."

Soul takes a second, digesting Kid's seeming defeat. He narrows his eyes. "Kid, Black Star told me Shibusen is encouraging weapons and meister teams take it in turns to go out 'in the field' to use his words, to fight zombies on the front lines."

"I wish you wouldn't call them zombies…" Kid sidelines, but Soul cuts through it.

"The point, Kid," he warns.

Kid raises an eyebrow. "I don't that you don't necessarily agree with this, Soul, but we're trying to undo the damage that the magical world has wreaked on the earth. We're trying to eliminate the infected so the earth can be safe again-"

"Oh, is that what it is?" Soul snaps. "What happened to trying to find a cure? You're just killing people who were unlucky enough to become infected?"

"We tried for years to find a cure, Soul, you were there. We couldn't," Kid explains. "And enough time has passed…"

"Oh, three measly years passed, so fuck all those people, that's your approach? Really?" Soul's voice breaks in anger.

Kid shakes his head. "You've killed the infected before, Soul."

"Yeah, I killed 'em. When they were a threat to my life – I think that's a little different, don't you?"

"Different than what?

"Than seeking them out. And inviting new recruits to do the same. Black Star referred to them as spare blood," Soul raises his voice a modicum as their conversation gets more heated. "Is that what you're teaching them, now?"

"I… I…" Kid stammers, unable to form a response in time.

"You're treating new recruits like…" he pauses, frustrated as he tries to think of the right words. "Like cannon fodder," he eventually chokes out.

"They need training. They need to be organised. We all do. If we all die, where does that leave the humans race?" Against his best efforts, Kid's voice raises in duality to Soul's.

"And why is it that you think you control the human race? Black Star is referring to non-weapons as humans," Soul spits. "Humans! We're all humans," his anger reaches a fever pitch now, his arm shifting dangerously into steel before Kid as he takes a step closer. "Even me," he points to his scythe with his flesh hand. "I'm human. I have no right or say in how to organise society. You force them into colonies, you give them arbitrary rules to follow, and now you're turning them into soldiers!" Soul throws his hands up in the air. "Jesus, even Maka wants to be one, now," he mutters.

Kid's brows knit together and he eyes up Soul's scythe arm a little warily. He starts of tersely, carefully. He's a diplomat above all things, and diplomats don't shout to get their point across. "I am truly sorry that Maka's current disposition bothers you. I can see that you care about her. The last thing I want is people volunteering to put themselves in danger," he starts. "But you have to understand, Soul. The reality of is that there is now a real threat out there that we must now join together to fight."

Soul rolls his eyes and steps back, turning his metal arm back into a human one. "Yeah, a threat that we created."

Kid shakes his head. "You're wrong about two things, Soul." he says slowly. "Firstly, I am not a human. I am a Shinigami," he points out, for posterity rather than for any real reason. "And…unfortunately, the infected are no longer the biggest threat to our survival. It has become evident in the last few weeks that we – the academy - are facing a much larger threat," Kid coughs. "A… magical one."

Soul frowns. "What are you talking about?" he scoffs.

"This is not a threat that we created." Kid's voice comes slow and steady, like treacle. "This is a threat that you created, Soul, when you failed to protect Kim Diehl's life."

Wait… what?

Did Kid mean that… he couldn't mean…

Witches?

Soul's chest thuds a little more dramatically, ice cold trickling into the veins on his wrist as he starts to cotton on to Kid's meaning. "Are you saying that…"

Kid nods, grimly. "Nobody can find out about this, Soul. Only a handful of us know. If it gets out… well, I just don't know how I can continue to keep control over this place. All hell will break loose. Even Black Star doesn't know, just yet. Can I trust you with this information, Soul?"

Soul sits down, a little dizzy from the sudden influx of news. He runs a hand through his hair, feeling the cold sweat on his forehead. "Y-yeah, of course…"

"Good. Now, do you have a minute? Let me explain, from the beginning…"


Woof! After last chapters fluff-a-palooza, time to move the plot along. I have a good idea where this is going to go, now. Much to come. Probably a third part. Crikey blimey