Chapter III: Trembling Heart Be Damned
Black Star found himself on the middle spike of the DWMA, the usual spot for addressing his many followers or getting a view of the marvelous city. However, anyone who really knew the assassin recognized it as his safe place, a little sanctuary protruding into the atmosphere. If bothered, the young meister would often seek out his perch, drape one leg over the side, and make faces at the Nevada sun.
Just as he was doing now, wiggling his eyebrows at the blinding light before turning away with a huff. He wasn't sulking over the week's events or his failure to identify unknown feelings, because there wasn't anything to be concluded from them. There was simply something in the air, that was all. If that something was madness, then so be it. Black Star would concede that maybe, just maybe, the smallest speck of insanity had infiltrated his great fortress of a brain and had him thinking all sorts of nonsense. Because that's what madness did, right? It made people see things and feel things that weren't really there?
The assassin nodded firmly, swinging a leg through the open air.
There was no point thinking about it any longer. He didn't sit atop the DWMA because he needed an escape, oh no. He reigned victorious over his emotions. He'd figured out Asura's sneaky little trick, the delayed crazy thoughts he should have seen coming from a mile away, but so what if he hadn't right away? He was a busy guy with a lot of stuff on his mind, so if he was a little off his game, that was completely acceptable. It didn't matter anymore. He'd won. To any of his peers, he was just as he'd always been: The greatest assassin to ever live, perched higher than anyone else, daring anyone to prove him wrong.
Except there wasn't anyone else around. It was only him on that spire, making bold declarations in his head. He didn't have an audience to prove anything to, only himself. What? Did he need to prove something to himself? Prove he wasn't crazy? Prove his trailing thoughts were justified?
Black Star scoffed.
What a load of crap. He didn't have anything to prove, not even to himself. He didn't need to go retracing his steps. He wasn't lost like Patty had said, he was right there on Death Weapon Meister Academy, the brilliant man with a sound soul dwelling within his sound mind and sound body.
He knew exactly where he was.
"Had a feeling you'd be up here around this time."
And apparently, so did Kid.
The assassin turned, frowning as the shinigami swung his legs over the windowsill and dropped down onto the base of the spike. It was done so smoothly, as if Kid had rehearsed it, taming gravity and landing with all the grace of a feline.
Black Star's heart performed a concerning flip, and he glowered at the strange sensation.
"What's going on?" Kid asked, regarding his friend curiously. "Still bummed over that literature paper? You had to know writing the word cheesy on a single piece of paper wasn't going to go very far with Marie. Honestly, even with a week to think about the poem, you didn't apply even the slightest effort. You were your own downfall this time, Black Star."
Why did the reaper feel the need to taunt him right now? Why had he tracked him down, disrupting the assassin's peace and quiet with his goddamn sound reasoning? Yeah, Black Star had slapped the word cheesy onto a piece of paper and turned it in as his summary to that confounding poem. Marie had called on him after class, requesting he visit early the following morning to 'discuss his thought process', which Black Star really didn't need, because his thought process as of late was… what word had Maka used? Oh, right. Abnormal. Yet another word with a definition Black Star couldn't quite grasp, but he had a feeling 'normal' was key in its meaning.
"You're never this quiet. Really, Black Star, I think everyone else is starting to worry. You haven't broken into Gallows Manor once this week, not that I'm complaining, so I thought…"
Oh. Kid was talking again. Something about the manor, but Black Star couldn't be sure. He was staring at the Lines of Sanzu in the other boy's hair, immersed in the way the sunset cast a glowing fire across the ivory. Everything about the reaper shone from the dying light, and suddenly the thought of that dark hair brushing across his face was back in Black Star's mind.
"Are you even listening? Black Star?"
Shit, distracted by shiny things again.
"Distracted by what?"
The assassin froze, eyes widening in terror as he realized he'd spoken this last curse aloud. He opened his mouth, sputtered a moment, and closed it. When Kid said nothing, the assassin threw back his head and screamed into the open air.
"Damn it! I don't know what's going on, okay? I admit it! I think that battle under the school messed with my brain a little. I know I said my sixth sense is really bad, but I can't think of anything else it may be. I can't focus anymore! I've tried meditating, but always lose it. I even tried that tea Tsubaki's always offering me for sleeping when I'm having bad nights, but nothing! Even my dreams can't seem to decide on the plot!"
Black Star rose to his feet, raising an accusatory finger at Kid before continuing. "And now everyone's worried about me when they shouldn't because I'm the big man Black Star. You guys shouldn't have to be worried, that's just not right! So go ahead and call me weak, I dare you. I'll knock you on your ass, reaper boy. I'm not weak! I'm not lost!"
A breeze carried those last words right back at the assassin, and he resisted the urge to shiver from the chill of the approaching night. He'd stand firm against the desert's cold, against his friend's fierce gaze and taunts.
Only he didn't receive any.
Kid didn't send any jabs or poke fun at the assassin's sudden outburst. Instead, he looked down at his own feet, breaking eye contact with the other meister, but Black Star could see it. That goddamn genuine smile that made his legs weak and tied up his tongue.
"There you go shouting out nonsense like your usual self," Kid murmured, glancing back up at the assassin. "Black Star, you're not weak, and you're sure as hell not lost. Sounds like you're still an idiot, and you've gone this long without feeling any effect of Asura's madness. That's not about to start now, not with you."
Black Star snorted, turning away from the other boy, suddenly glad for the dying light that sent shadows across his uneasy expression.
"So whatever's been weighing on you, we can help you figure it out, because you're wrong about us not having to worry," the shinigami explained softly. "We all worry, Black Star. We worry about each other, especially with everything we've been through. If we didn't worry, we couldn't call ourselves classmates or friends. Take it from someone who has a hard time relying on others. Let us worry, and don't be so damn stubborn about it."
The assassin remained silent a few beats, then looked back at Kid, unable to keep a smirk from crossing his lips.
"Guess you guys are stuck with me then," he responded, shrugging helplessly. "But feel honored to worry about me, okay? Not everyone gets the glory of worrying about a man who will surpass god."
Kid shook his head in exasperation, mumbling a quiet farewell to the assassin and making to depart back through the DWMA's open window. However, just before reaching up to the wooden ledge, he turned back to Black Star, eyebrows quirked in symmetrical bewilderment.
"What did you say earlier, about being distracted by shiny things?"
Black Star faltered at the question, then raised a hand to scratch the back of his head sheepishly.
"Just this dumb thing I think of whenever I get distracted. I always think of how some birds see shiny things and get off track, you know? But like I said, it's dumb. I'm not a bird. I don't get distracted by useless, shiny stuff. I'm stronger than that. I'm a dragon. For sure, a dragon."
Kid didn't say anything to this explanation, instead dipping his head in agreement and pulling himself back up into the open window, once again leaving Black Star alone on his perch.
As the assassin returned his attention to the sprawling desert, he knew his focus wouldn't last long. He could already feel the gears in his mind turning, clanking together awkwardly, and threatening to send his thoughts into a haphazard spiral.
"You know…"
Kid's voice again. The gears stopped.
"…dragons like shiny things, too. They hoard gold after all."
Black Star stared blankly into the last rays of sunlight, processing this new bit of information.
Well, that's even dumber.
—- —- —-
Runaway trains of thought aside, the most tedious part of Black Star's ordeal was probably his meeting with Marie before class the next morning. It was one thing to know he was going to be gently reprimanded regarding his 'lack of concern' for his grades, but it was another entirely to have to show up early before the bell even rang.
"…and so with that in mind, I feel there is another word you may come to find is more appropriate to describe this poem. Using a single word to convey your feelings is quite bold, but with this specific piece of writing, I think if you gave it more time and thought, you'll learn there is much to be said about Raven Zann's work."
Black Star stared at the piece of paper, noting the smudged ink next to the 's' in 'cheesy', before focusing on Marie's words. Slowly, he looked up to see his teacher smiling timidly at him. He supposed she really did try to make things engaging for her students and genuinely cared. She wouldn't be there in the empty classroom before the day's beginning otherwise.
Regardless, the entire situation was a pain in the ass, and he found himself in a more agitated mood than usual.
"Yeah, pretty sure I'll be dead before I figure out what 'ol Zann was trying to say about souls and relish," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I'm no good at all this word stuff, Miss Marie, so stick me in a remedial course or make me write 'I promise not to drink formaldehyde anymore,' on the chalkboard or something."
At Marie's alarmed expression, he mumbled, "Yeah, Stein made me write it five hundred times once. Stuff was a little sour, but it was worth it to see the look on Ox's stupid face when he owed me twenty dollars."
"O-Oh," Marie stumbled before clearing her throat and lifting the single sheet of paper, steering back to the topic at hand. "I'm curious, why this word?"
"Because it's a love poem. Love poems are always cheesy."
"But there is so much more to be said about it," the older weapon insisted, reaching over to flip through another stack of papers beside her. "These are the reports of your classmates, and if you want to take a look at Crona's, she had some interesting thoughts on—"
Of course that gloomy, pink-haired twig had connected with the poem, but the assassin was not about to crush his spirits any further by browsing that depressing mess.
"Thanks, but no thanks," the assassin quickly interjected, raising a hand as if to ward off the few—seriously, more than one?—pages Marie slide towards him. "I'll pass on that. I'm sure her thoughts were… fine."
"I'll admit, some of her ideas were alarming, but by the end of the fifth page, I could tell what she was trying to say," Marie responded, setting aside the report. "But which line was it I had you read in class? Line four, wasn't it? The soul's surrender to vertigo? What do you think when you hear that?"
"Honestly, Miss Marie, I only just learned what the word vertigo meant on Tuesday. I know it means being dizzy, so yeah, some dude is dizzy in this poem. That's what happens in all love poems. Two people go all lovey-dovey and suddenly they're stuck thinking about each other and then it's all roses and rainbows and happy times, and it's just a bunch of crap. I don't understand it."
"Well, I suppose it may be difficult to relate to," Marie began quietly, offering a gentle smile. "But perhaps one day you'll find yourself stuck thinking about someone who makes you a little crazy, and then you'll understand it."
Her words registered with all the haste of tree sap, and Black Star's retort died in his throat as he stared back at his instructor.
What did she just say?
"Wh—" Black Star stumbled, cleared his throat, and feigned an uninterested expression. "What's that supposed to mean? Crazy?"
"Oh, some people find that love makes them a little crazy," Marie explained, busying herself with reshuffling the stack of reports. "Everyone might experience it a little differently, but I think anyone in love can admit to the common themes of it: Wondering if they've gone crazy, having butterflies in their stomach, getting a little dizzy or having trouble focusing… Once these things happen, that's when you need to consider the possibility that you may have feelings for someone."
'Have feelings.' As if it was as simple as browsing the market and picking out a particularly unique grapefruit. But Black Star didn't like grapefruit. And he didn't like the market. And damn it all, he didn't have feelings because he'd already sorted through this entire thing the night before, high and mighty on his perch, but everything Marie was saying… well, it somehow just made sense. Like a doctor, she picked out all the symptoms and now she'd diagnosed him with the sickness.
But how had he gotten it? He was Black Star! He didn't fall victim to something as trivial as—
"Yeah, whatever. That's pretty dumb, Miss Marie…" Black Star snorted angrily, startling his instructor, before continuing softly, "But say someone got sick off this nonsense or… I don't know… fell. How'd they go about finding out why?"
"You mean why does someone fall in love?" Marie echoed. "Oh, it could be for lots of reasons! Maybe they're always doing nice things for you or you admire their bravery or talents. It could be as small as appreciating their cooking or perhaps you suddenly find yourself enjoying their laughter. When I was a little younger, I met one man who took me to the Nightshade Café for our first day…"
The older weapon's words were lost on the assassin as he registered everything he'd just heard. It was all as he'd suspected, a jumble of nonsense about butterflies and sickeningly sweet things, but there was one thing she'd said that startled him.
'You find yourself enjoying their laughter…'
Suddenly Black Star found himself retracing his steps, seeking out a memory he'd originally dismissed as 'odd' and nothing more. He remembered his epiphany, the realization he'd never heard the laughter of the little reaper child, and how it echoed in his brain long after it had occurred.
As it was doing now, dancing about a heart that was beating much too fast for the assassin to handle.
He was bombarded by all of it, every detail, every stupid cliché Marie had rattled off about butterflies and being dizzy and thinking all these crazy thoughts about a single soul, and it scared Black Star to no end. The fact it scared him upset him even more, because he was Black Star, damn it! He was the greatest assassin the world—the universe—would ever see! Yet here he was, trembling and dying for air, clutching at his chest and struggling to form words as Marie began fretting over him, asking if he was okay. She murmured it might be a fever and that he should visit Naigus, but the assassin shook his head.
"Miss Marie, I'm…"
He wasn't okay. He couldn't say that, but what else could he tell her? He didn't want to admit to every fear coursing through him right now, and yet he couldn't not say anything. She'd been the one to make him understand it all, so surely she would be able to help? Right?
"I think…" He looked over at Marie, willing his heart to calm down. "I think that dumb poem is starting to make more sense, but… It's still really dumb, Miss Marie. That poem didn't say anything about how damn scary all this falling is."
Marie regarded the assassin for a moment before she broke into a gentle smile and released a long sigh. Then she leaned forward and folded her hands together, murmuring, "Black Star, I know you probably won't believe me when I say this, but these literature courses can be just as important as your classes about soul classification or your fighting lessons. You roll your eyes at me, but let me tell you one little thing, okay?"
Black Star shrugged, but said nothing.
"This poem and your feelings towards it have more in common with a kishin than you may think."
At this, the assassin gave a grunt of dissatisfaction before mumbling, "I highly doubt that."
"Really?" Marie raised a knowing eyebrow. "You're going to sit there and tell me you're not going to face these feelings head on? That's what you'd do with a kishin, isn't it?"
—- —- —-
Everyone just had to be so goddamn rational, didn't they?
She was right. Miss Marie was absolutely right.
Black Star stood his ground in the hallway outside the classroom as other students arrived, arms crossed and tapping a finger nervously. Or not nervously, oh no. Impatiently. Yeah, that was it. He was impatient to face this beast head on.
Who'd have thought the tedious literature course he'd been resenting at the beginning of the week would prove to be such a terrible foe? All these sugary poems had infected the assassin's mind more than he'd anticipated. He'd let his guard down, had left himself wide open to the cunning blade of sappy nonsense.
Marie had gushed about how sweet it was that he found himself caring so much for another person. Only this wasn't just another person. This was an infuriating, little god that Black Star had once regarded with partial disinterest before learning just how fun it could be messing with the OCD reaper. Before learning the boy wasn't as perfect as everyone had made him out to be, that he had moments of stupidity and made mistakes and, honestly, wasn't all that 'God-like' half the time. He was just an ordinary kid like the rest of them.
He laughed just like the rest of them.
A laugh that had unknowingly lit the fuse on this entire predicament, leading to the inevitable destruction of a relationship Black Star had originally labeled as 'begrudging friendship.'
It was ridiculous. Something as simple as laughter couldn't make someone crazy, right? Honestly, he'd have declared it a mistake if not for Marie's eerily accurate list of symptoms.
And if not for the way his heart suddenly seized up and he found he couldn't breath upon spotting Kid approaching from down the hall.
Everyone else had already gone into the classroom ages ago, passing Black Star without a word. It was only his friends who'd greeted him, a confused look from Maka and a fist-bump from Soul. Patty had raised an eyebrow, grinning in a way that made Black Star wonder just how much the young weapon knew? Tsubaki had asked if everything was okay, to which the assassin explained he was fulfilling an assignment of Miss Marie's, so they'd left him alone.
That's right. This was an assignment, a mission, and Black Star was going to wind up victorious, trembling heart be damned.
As the young reaper drew closer, Black Star advanced a few steps into the empty hall to meet the late reaper. Well, not late exactly, but rather stubbornly on time because it was eight o' clock on the dot.
"Hey, Kid."
Black Star planted his feet to steady himself. For the first time all week, only a single train of thought drifted through his cluttered mind.
He stared at the other boy, stared at those inquisitive, gold eyes and suddenly remembered the dragon and its love for treasure.
He took a deep breath.
"I gotta talk to you about something."
A/N: You're doing great, sweetie!
And that is the end. This one was fun to write, but I definitely love Vagus Haywire more. I had originally wanted to finish this one and get this chapter posted the last day of June, but things got a little hectic. But here we are, we've made it to the end! Thank you everyone who read this story, favorited, and left your reviews, they are always appreciated! I hope you enjoyed, and hope you will return again for the next story, whenever that may be! Until then, take care!
