"Would you want to come to Nevada?" Soul asks.
It's not as though they've never spoken of it before, because they have- in slow-moving voice calls when no one else is awake, mid-game when Soul's adrenaline is coursing strong, hard nights when he offers Maka a place of refuge from certain familial problems.
It exists as a fallback, an inevitable accumulation of their years of friendship. Yet it remains, still, devoid of follow through. Soul hopes Maka takes him seriously.
"...to Nevada?" Maka echoes in timid surprise. "Like, visit you?"
"Yeah," Soul responds. "We've always talked about it. Why not do it soon?"
"O-oh. Well, of course I want to, it's just," Maka hesitates. "A lot to consider."
A frown tugs at the corners of Soul's mouth. He didn't expect that answer. "It doesn't have to be soon, if that helps.. I have spare bedrooms and plenty of space. Or you could stay in a hotel, I don't know."
Maka's voice is quiet. "Thank you for the offer, Soul. I'll think about it."
His heart sinks. Chills breakout across his skin, and he draws his knees towards his chest.
He remembers sitting in the same spot on his bathroom floor days before, wet droplets slipping down his neck while the haunting song reverberated in his skull. In some way, he feels just as barren and vulnerable in Maka's silence as he had when wrapped in only his cotton towel.
He's cried here before, laying on the cold ground with silent tears and balled up toilet paper. He celebrated too, when he'd first moved into the house and needed a moment away from his visiting mother and brother.
Being confined by the white walls and gray cabinets brings out raw emotions that he either loves, or destroys.
"I'm not trying to overstep. It seems like you're uncomfortable right now," Soul begins slowly, "but I have to know. In the past, you've been excited about coming to see me.. Is… is there a reason you aren't now?"
The lights overhead dim momentarily, then brighten again. Soul pinches his brows together in confusion.
"Why did you have to ask that," Maka says in one breathy, but it's mostly to himself. Soul's lips part in rebuttal, and he continues, "It's not personal, Soul. Please drop it."
Sour pinpricks collect in his stomach. He knows Maka's voice too well. "Are you lying to me?"
"I'm not."
He feels sick. "Maka."
"I don't know if I have enough money, or what my dads plans look like- it's not about you," Maka nearly pleads.
"Is that really true?" Soul asks.
Maka's presence is stifled by sharp silence.
Soul;s words are small. "Why don't you want to see me?"
"I want to," Maka assures fervently, "that's the problem. I want to see you so much that I'm…" Her voice dwindles, "...scared what will happen when I do."
The wind outside roars past his window, and the air is taken from Soul's lungs. Into the stuffy room wafts the faint smell of storm.
"Scared," Soul reiterates in gentle disbelief, "Of what?"
"I don't know how to explain it," Maka mutters.
Soul wraps an arm around his knees. "Try. Please."
Maka takes a breath. "I'm not good at this- talking about how I feel. Okay?"
Soul's heart softens. "I know."
"You say whatever you're feeling, all of the time, like you don't know or care about what it'll make you look like. It's ridiculous, I mean, who does that?"
Gently, he repeats, "I know."
"I've known you for so long, and you're a great friend and I-," Maka pauses. "I care about you, because it's worked, online. It's always been online. Who's to say the second we meet in person, we won't have anything to talk about? Or, we meet and everything goes so well that… it's over?"
Soul clenches his jaw.
"That anticipated moment is over. Everything we've talked about for the last few years just… passes, and the expectations are gone," Maka continues, "and you stop talking to me."
"I wouldn't," Soul dictates calming.
"You don't know that."
"I do," he swears. "I don't care whatever happens." If you somehow want me. "I'm not going anywhere." If you don't. "I'm here."
Maka sighs. "I appreciate your confidence, but still. Everything is going to be different than what we expect it to be."
Recognition clicks in Soul's brain. He shared a similar conversation with Maka years ago, and learned that Maka considers her life a careful balance between expectations, and reality. When the expectations fall through, and she's left with sheer disappointment, it's crippling.
"Are you worried it won't live up to your expectations?" Soul prods.
"No," Maka says. "I'm afraid it will."
Words in response rise and then die on Soul's tongue, weighted by loss and confusion. He hopes that Maka doesn't expect poorly of him; what he looks like, or who he is in real life.
He hears a gentle patter pick up just beyond the clear curtain, and he lifts his head to survey the open window. The sky outside is darkened by tumbling clouds.
"Maka," he hushs, slowly rising to his feet as a feeling of child-like wonder swells in his chest. "Maka."
"What?" Maka asks, tired.
Once he's standing, he can see through the misted screen. His words come out in a whisper. "It's raining."
"Uh-,"
"It's raining!" He clutches his phone to his ear as he scrambles out of the bathroom. "Oh my god, I didn't even notice- it's a break, it's a break."
His feet carry him down the hall, passing under the skylight that is dappled with water splotches. His socks slide on the wooden floor as he descends down the staircase.
"A break?" Maka says for clarification, and Soul can hear a faint trace of amusement in her voice.
"In the heatwave," Soul rasps, grinning when the sliding glass doors to his backyard come into view. The grass is drenched a vibrant green, bushes and trees whipping in the wind, and his concrete patio is stained a dark gray. "When it's broken, it'll go down. The heat will go down."
He hears Maka laugh lightly. "I don't think I've ever heard someone this excited about rain."
"I've been miserable here, you don't even know," Soul rambles, pressing a palm against the cool glass. "Day in day out, sweating bullets, the AC guy is books for another week- and god, at the lake today it was horrible, i nearly baked myself in the car-"
"The lake?" Maka interrupts.
Soul falters.
"The… one you told me about at your parents place?"
"Yes." He hadn't intended to keep it from Maka, but for whatever reason, it feels terribly private. "That's why I was in Glenbrook."
"But you hate your parents' place."
"I- I do," he says carefully. "Sort of. Lately I've just been… lost, I guess." Driving. Feeling. Learning. "That nightmare thing with you really shook me, and brought up a lot of stuff I didn't know I'd been holding on to."
"Oh," Maka's voices with concern. "Like what?"
Soul's hand slowly falls from the transparent door. He stares out into the yard, and watches the rain.
"Like my dad," he confesses, words coming from a deep hollow in his heart. "We… used to stay there all the time in the summer, when I was little. He used to play the piano all the time with my mother and- and it would make her smile. I remember that so clearly." Tension rises in his jaw; around his temples. Thunder cracks in the sky outside. "When he- when he killed himself, she didn't smile for a while. And- and we never went back there."
He opened the door, and the sound of drizzling shower doubled in his ears. Temperate air gently graces his frontside. It's the coldest he's felt in eons.
"Not too long after, I started having those nightmares. I guess it did something to me," Soul says. "Tore me in half."
He remembers the first few times he'd found himself in that dream-space, it was difficult to tell who the Little Ogre truly was.
After a moment, Maka speaks. "How come you've never mentioned it?"
"I think I'm scared of getting too close to you," he says. I think I've recently figured out why.
The rain falls steadily.
"Me too," Maka says. Her voice is latent with what sounds like relief. Part of Soul's anguish settles.
"Visit me," he offers again. "That's as close as we can get."
Maka huffs. "I can't tell if you're self destructive or just a really good friend."
He smiles. "What if I'm both?"
"Then my mom was right about you," Maka says. "You're trouble."
Soul's face grows unexpectedly warm. "You talk to your mom about me?"
"Yeah," Maka mumbles. "I talk to her about the important stuff."
His stomach flutters. "I'm important stuff?"
"You are."
Soul steps outside, protected by the overhang. Splashes of water lightly spritz his socks. "I really don't think anything will change if we meet in person, you know." He hopes, faintly, that he doesn't sound desperate. "Important stuff sticks around."
"How can you be so sure?"
His heart thumps. "Because I care about you a lot more than you think. Even if things somehow do change, I'm never going to stop wanting to talk to you."
"I don't get it," Maka breathes, "why you say stuff like that to me, and not Blackstar, or anyone else."
"You're different," Soul murmurs. I don't dream about them. I don't obsess over them.
He extends a hand out beyond the awning. Between brief moments of humid air, cold raindrops land on his skin.
From the silence, he catches Maka softly saying, "I can hear the rain."
"Can you? Is it loud?"
"No, it's nice. I haven't had rain in a while."
They both calm into quiet comfort, and listen. Soul peers up at the darkening gray clouds in concern of nearby power lines. Perhaps he should step inside, locate his flashlight and prepare Blair for her least favorite time of the year.
"Soul," Maka timidly speaks up. "Can you describe it to me?"
He blows out a hot, shaky breath. He'd do anything Maka asked him to with that tenderness in her voice.
"It's a light downpour at the moment," he explains in a low tone, "But it's getting heavier. There's puddles forming on my lawn… everything is green and soaked. And beautiful." He tips his chin skyward. "When I look up, I can see the rain coming down in these small gray dots. Did you ever try to catch them on your tongue, when you were a kid?"
"Yeah," Maka whispers.
For some reason, it sends chills down the back of Soul's neck. "The sky looks different, trying to catch them. The storm above me is moving so quickly; I can see the wind in the clouds." He inhales. "I can smell the rain too."
"Are you cold?"
"No," He murmurs, "It's very humid here. Keeps me warm." he wipes his hand on his shirt. "These thunderstorms are something else. I wish you could see it for yourself."
It'd be beyond comforting to have Maka stand and watch the rain with him. Maybe she'd let me wrap my arms around her waist, he thinks forlornly, and hold her close, for a while.
"I wish I could too," Maka says. After a beat, she adds, "Maybe it'll rain when I come see you."
Soul's eyes widen. "Wh-what? What?" His pulse begins to race. "When you- what?"
"I think I'm going to visit," Maka premises. "You've convinced me."
"I have?" Soul repeats, shrill with excitement.
Maka laughs faintly. "Yes, dummy."
"Oh my god." Rattling exhilaration skitters across his skin. "Maka, oh my god. I'm going to see you?"
"You're going to see me," Maka echoes warmly.
Soul runs a hand through his hair. "In real life, in Nevada?"
"Yes, Soul. But I-I sort of have one condition, to make it less stressful," Maka says.
"Of course, yes, what is it?" Soul asks, heart hammering in his chest.
"And because I know he'd be beyond jealous. I'd like Blackstar to be there too."
"Uh, you're damn right, I'd want to be there." Blackstar says. "When were you guys thinking?"
Soul adjusts the mic on his headset and shifts in his chair. "Probably in like, two months or so? Not sure about dates yet."
"Yeah, I'm going to be busy for a bit so that's why we aren't doing it sooner," Maka explains.
Soul had been pulled from his wonder of the refreshing storm at Maka's persistence that they join a call with Blackstar. He was warmed by the eagerness Maka showed after she'd recovered from her inistal anxieties about visiting.
"That could work, I'll have to double check when my-uh- my friend is coming down in the fall." Blackstar replies. "Other than that, I think I'm good."
Soul presses his lips together in suspicion. He tabs out of the game to privately message him: Friend?
Yes, Blackstar replies, plain and simple.
He isn't upset over the addition of Blackstar as he expected himself to be. His presence releases tension from Soul's gut- it may be easier for him to avoid how Maka makes him feel if Blackstar can be his buffer. He hopes Blackstar knows what he's agreeing to.
Soul hums. "Alright. Cool. You guys can stay at my house when you come, so don't worry about reserving a hotel or anything."
"Are you going to get your air conditioning fixed?" Blackstar asks.
Soul laughs. "Yes, yes I promise. I'm not trying to boil you alive."
"Aw." Maka says. "We won't get to see a sweaty Soul?"
Soul rolls his eyes. "Sorry, sweetie, but no. I can send you pictures right now if you want."
"Shut the fuck up," Maka exasperates immediately.
Blackstar cackles, "I can send some too."
"Do it, Blackstar. I dare you."
"It's a trap," Soul says hurriedly, "Maka screenshots things for blackmail. Don't do it."
"That's evil," Blackstar says. "What did she screenshot?"
Soul blushes, "Nothing-"
"Nothing," Maka hurries.
Their call falls silent.
"...I can't wait to see you idiots interact in person," Blackstar says.
Soul can't fully wrap his mind around it. He's met Blackstar before, and it was an exciting and humorous collection of days- but seeing Maka, being able to talk to her and laugh with her and touch her-
"What kind of stuff is there to do there?" Maka asks.
"Um, movies, bars, swimming," Soul says. "I can figure out some plans for us."
"Clubbing?" Blackstar inputs.
Soul chuckles. "I mean, yeah, if you want to."
"I'd rather not," Maka says.
"Too spicy for Maka."
"Whatever, Blackstar," Maka scolds. "Really, though, how hot is it going to be?"
"It'll be starting to cool off," Soul supplies weakly. "It's fairly warm year-round, the coldest it gets in the winter is like, mid 50's. But you guys will get some of the stormy season."
"Cool," Blackstar says. "Thunderstorms."
"Not cool," Soul corrects. "We tend to get baseball sized hail."
Blackstar makes a whining sound. "Cooler than tornadoes."
"Hail is terrifying," Maka says faintly.
"Hail is terrifying," Blackstar poorly mimics her.
"Don't worry Maks, we can keep you safe," He coos with a mimicked tone.
"Maybe I shouldn't buy a ticket."
"Noo," Blackstar says through breathy laughs," We'll make a pact, okay? Soul and I will make a pact to not bother you."
Soul raises an eyebrow. "We will?"
"Yes, Soul, come on," Blackstar says. "Verbally sign the pacts."
Soul sighs, "I give you my verbal signature."
"Good, thank you," Maka says, "what happens if you break the pact?"
"Then we give you a smoochie," Blackstar answers.
Soul grins.
"A smoochie," Maka repeats, sounding exhausted.
"I'm okay with that," Soul says lightheartedly. "A little peck."
"A kiss wiss," Blackstar continues.
"Fine," Maka mutters in defeat. "Consider the pact sealed, just stop being annoying. Should we tell Tsubaki and Kid?"
"Maybe once we've bought tickets," Blackstar says. "They're gonna freak out."
"Oh yeah, were you able to get a nonstop flight to Nevada when you went last time? Or is there somewhere else you went through?" Maka asks.
Blackstar begins to explain his experience flying to Maka, and their words slide away from Soul's attention as he politely tunes them out.
He turns in his chair to gaze out of his window; the blinds have been pulled up so he could watch the rain. It's falling steadily now, and the wind has subsided, allowing rhythmic drops to descend from the gutter.
He wonders if the bird's nest will survive the storm that is right outside the window. The hatchlings are probably old enough to fly by now, so they could relocate to a safe place.
He frowns. Maybe he should do something about that.
"What do you think, Soul?" Maka asks.
He stares blankly at the storm clouds. "Hm?"
"I asked what you think," Maka repeated.
"About what? Sorry, I wasn't listening."
"Joining Tsubaki's game," Blackstar clarifies. "She's playing right now and texted me she needs three more people."
Soul signs, rotating to face his glowing screen. "Alright."
When they've connected into the game, Tsubakis's sunny voice brightens their call and pulls Soul's attention from the rain. He and Blackstar bicker, decide to run their competitive strats, and begin referring to each other with only strange word combinations.
Maka begs them to actually take the game seriously and drags Soul into duo matches. They stick close by each other and practice call outs and map locations.
At times, Tsubaki and Blackstar's dynamic reminds Soul of an earlier period in his friendship with Maka when they'd first been getting to know each other. The warmth, curiosity, and coyness- they're nearly tangible when learning about a new friend. He recalls being timid to not offend Maka, navigating her sense of humor and personality with care.
Soul glances across his screen, where Maka is t-bagging in front of him to get his attention.
Even in the beginning, did he hold the gentle admiration for Maka that he is consumed by now? His memories of Maka have always been like his dream; soaked in honey and glittering gold.
Maybe it didn't come from nowhere.
"What are you thinking about?" Maka asks.
Soul refocuses on the game. "When we first met actually."
Tsubaki awes. "Tell us, Soul, was it in the library?"
He cackles. "She wishes."
"Ohhh, Maka just rolled her eyes at you, I saw it on her discord stream," Blackstar says.
Soul smirks. "What do you want me to do, ground her?" He hears a faint feedback echo from his mic.
"You went a little robot-y there, what'd you say?" Tsubaki asks.
"Nothing, nevermind," Soul says, and he hears another laugh.
"You're cutting out," Maka assists.
"Am I?" Soul catches a glimpse of his window; it has grown darker outside, but the wind is ripping bark from nearby trees. "It must be the storm."
"He's really not speaking english right now," Tsubaki mutters.
Blackstar clears his throat. "Yeah maybe he should leave and rejoin? I don't know."
"I don't think that'll work," Soul says. If it's an issue due to the weather, he's powerless.
Thunder rumbles loudly overhead.
"I think he said he doesn't think rejoining will work," Mak reiterates.
"Soul, maybe you-"
His monitor turns black. He taps on the keys and clicks incessantly, but amounts to nothing.
"Shit," he mutters, narrowing his eyes in the dark to locate a hefty flashlight he'd placed on his desk earlier. He fumbles over the desk until his fingertips connect with the rubber handle.
Yellow light spills from his hands, illuminating his inactive keyboard and computer. Looming shadows draw long across his walls as he quickly glances at the wires beneath his desk- normal.
He swears again. The power is out.
Moving out of his room swiftly, he calls out to Blair, scanning the hallway and open doors with the circular spotlight. She hates the storms, he knows, and the pitch black house. His voice echoes off the ceilings.
Curled up by the bathroom entrance, she blinks into the hovering bright beam he's pointed at her.
"Hey, Blair," he says tenderly, scooping her into his arms. She trembles slightly. "You're okay, come with me."
He takes her to his bedroom and lets her nest into his pillows and blankets. With the window blinds drawn, the last traces of daylight give her black fur a blue hue.
His phone buzzes repetitively on the bed where he'd tossed it earlier. He ignores it for now, and closes Blair in his room while he grabs the box of candles and batteries from the garage.
Despite the loud gusts of wind and occasional flashes of lightning, this is still better than a brownout.
After lighting a few candles and perching them around his room, he settles. His phone has an influx of notifications from Tsubaki, Blackstar and Maka asking where he went.
My power went out, he texts Maka.
Immediately his phone starts to ring. He picks up.
"Are you okay?" Maka asks the second her call goes through.
"I'm fine, a powerline must've gotten hit by the lightning," Soul says, "It's dark."
"Do you have any idea when it'll come back on?"
Soul fights a fond smile- Maka sounds worried. "These don't last too long here, so probably tomorrow. Sorry about our matches."
"That's okay, Tsubaki and Blackstar are carrying me in the game right now."
"Are you still talking to them?" Soul asks. Blair curls into his side silently.
"In game, but I deafened the call so I could talk to you."
"How sweet," he says. "I bet those two are happy to have some alone time together."
Maka laughs. "I'm still streaming my desktop on Discord, Soul."
He connects the call to his headset. "Oops." Navigating through Discord on his phone, he clicks onto the Discord voice chat, opening the two perspectives Maka was sharing.
Maka's perspective of the match loads onto Soul's phone screen, and his eyes instinctively drift to the second stream of her webcam while he talks, "So what are you guys going to do without a-"
His tongue goes numb.
Maka is wearing the hoodie that she'd sent a photo in earlier, and her headset has been pulled down around her neck. The navy green colors bring out the blonde highlights in her hair and eyes- but her face is beaming bright.
The fantasy returns to Soul's mind in flashes- Maka's jaw in his hands, the beautiful green eyes, his fingers gently parting Maka's lips. I thought, he clenched his hand, that this was over.
"You cut out for a second," Maka voices and Soul watches her mouth move as he tilts the phone in his hand. "What'd you want to say?"
"You look good in that hoodie," Soul utters suddenly. He clasps his lips shut.
Maka's eyes flutter in surprise, and a smile breaks out across her face. "Thank you."
Soul's chest blooms with warmth at the sight of her bashfulness. "You're welcome." Since he is on speaker, the discord chat erupts with panic and praise. "What are you guys going to do without a fifth teammate?"
"Um," Maka gently bites away her smile. "I'm not sure. Blackstar wants me to duel him."
Blackstar sends a message into the discord chat: Go swimming :)
"I'm not going swimming. There's a thunderstorm happening right now." Soul complains. "Why are you so insistent on me going swimming?"
After a moment, Blackstar types: I just wanna see.
Soul laughs faintly, "What, trying to see me in swim trunks?"
"Hey, hey," Maka says quickly. "Keep it PG, or I'll hang up."
Their discord chat goes off on them in protest of Maka's threat.
Soul cackles harder.
Maka pulls a face. "You're stupid."
Blackstar types, Stop flirting and get back to point, bitch.
"I'm not," Maka says, exasperated. She begins to run from spawn to their holding point. "If I was actually flirting I don't think Soul would know how to handle it."
His face flushes. "That's not true." So,so true.
Tsubaki types out, Best pickup line, go.
Maka huffs. "We are not doing that, Tsu, leave me out of it."
"Excuse me, Maka," Soul says politely, with a grin, "Do you have an extra heart? I think mine's been stolen."
Maka makes a noise in protest. "That one is just stupid. Did you look it up or did you have it locked in your brain?"
Soul pauses. "Which one is more cringe?"
"I don't even know."
Are you an aspirin? Blackstar contributes, Cause I'd like to take you every four to six hours.
"Even worse," Maka says.
Soul chuckles. "Four to six hours? That's kind of a low libido."
Blackstar shoots, What's yours like then Soul? Soul rolls his eyes at the sense of humor Tsubaki elicits from him.
"Yeah, Soul, since you have so many options." Maka plays along, "Tell us,"
He raises his eyebrows. "You wanna talk about my libido now too?"
"Oh stop, I'm carrying on with the conversations," Maka defends, "I'm being polite. I'm catering to charity."
"If I'm charity," Soul says brazenly, "Please donate yourself to me."
Maka hesitates. "I can't tell if that's just a line or just you being you. This is becoming too inappropriate."
Soul laughs, "Getting frustrated?"
"I'm getting angry," Maka pointedly corrects.
"Aw," Soul says sympathetically. "Take a break, then. Let me calm you down. Let me- let me uh." He wheezes, "Let me kiss your forehead."
"Soul!" Maka yells. "That is it." She shuffles to press buttons on her phone, and pulls her headphones on. "I'm taking away your talking privileges with the group." She deafens on the discord once more.
Goodbye my love :( Blackstar sends.
"Darn," Soul protests feebly as Maka sets down her phone. "Forgive me."
"Don't even," Maka says, but Soul sees her cracking a smile.
"So nobody can hear me? The discord?"
"Yep."
Soul hums. "Just us now."
Maka narrows her eyes. "I can't keep talking to just you. It's rude to the rest of the group."
"End the call," Soul jokes, but his voice falls unexpectedly low. "I don't want you talking to anybody else."
Maka bites her lip, and nervously tugs on the collar of her sweatshirt. "Why-why's that?"
Soul can't take his eyes away from his phone screen. "I don't know." When Maka doesn't respond, he adds, "Maybe I'm selfish."
He sees the corners of Maka's mouth twitch slightly.
Soul scoffs. "Are you really gonna try to ignore me? I can see your face. You're like a statue."
"Mhm." Maka mumbles dismissively. Composure on camera is easily one of the first tenets that Maka lives by, always being mindful of what her friends do and don't see.
Soul wonders how much it could take to unravel that.
"So, what if I keep talking to you," Soul pushes, "And say whatever I want?"
Maka quickly pressures a smile- but Soul still catches it.
"I can see you smiling, dummy," He says, voice softening. "It's cute."
Maka feverishly shoots the walls around her in game.
Orange shadows dance on the walls from the candles across the room. "I like being able to see it. To see you."
Soul thinks of the limitless power that he has in this situation- only Maka can hear him, but finally, he will be able to understand what's been missing from their texts and calls this whole time. An unexpected hunger stokes the fire in his chest.
He murmurs, "I liked it in that photo you sent earlier too."
A light pink bloom brushes across Maka's cheeks immediately.
Soul's eyes widen.
Breathlessly, Maka asks, "Did you?"
