"You said tomorrow"—Star started to gripe as Maka's footsteps finally broke the threshold of the dilapidated temple—"and that was three days ago."
"Things happened." Maka dismissively flicked her fingers at him before taking a hard shoulder into what was left of the wall.
"Like?" Star wobbled his knees as he butterflied his legs.
Maka's arms crossed over her chest, pressing out a slow sigh. "Asura's physician– Medusa came back. She's staying to work with the current physician to figure out what's wrong with Soul. Did you hear back from Sid about either of them?"
Star snorted. "Sid had plenty to say about Franken. Old friends. Same with his wife."
"Old friends?" Maka's shoulders tensed. "With just Sid, or…?"
"Nope." He popped the 'p' with a victorious smirk. "Used to be one of us, until Franken got in a little bit of trouble."
She rolled her eyes. "Can you just get to the point? What trouble, and can we trust him? Those vials he gives Soul are poison."
Star plopped his chin into his palm as his elbow dug into his knee. "You know, you call him by his name an awful lot."
Maka's lip curled sourly. "What else should I call him?"
"'My lord' sounds just fine to me." He tapped his fingers repetitively over his cheek. "Is he the reason why I had to wait? Another sick day?"
"I told you, that woman showed up. The idea that she's snooping around didn't exactly make it safe to leave." Maka narrowed her eyes at him. "Stop changing the subject! What did Franken do?"
"Killed a guy." Star shrugged.
Maka waited, irritation making her fingertips flutter over her arm. "Well?" she urged. "Killing someone in our line of work isn't exactly a big deal, and if he was old friends with Sid and Mira…"
"But killin' a guy who was also old friends with Sid and Mira and happened to be Marie's old lover kinda set off some alarms."
Maybe it's like one of those ridiculous romantic stories– Maka kept the thought on her tongue since she knew it'd only earn a ribbing from Star. Challenging an old beau and taking the woman for himself. "So… he was expelled? This had to be years ago, so it would have been Kid's father in charge…"
"Sid said we were toddlers– s'why we didn't recognize the faces or the names." Star dropped his hands to his lap before offering another wistful shrug. "Who cares. Not like they'd recognize us either. Just leave a wide circle around 'em since it's not like we're stayin' all that much longer, right?"
Maka tested the answer she should give on her tongue: right. The tumultuous mix of guilt and sorrow that crept into her chest and clawed at her heart made it impossible to voice. Why? Why should I feel bad about leaving him? He doesn't have Papa, so he can't give me what I want.
His eyebrows climbed up his forehead. "Right?"
"I thought you said you had a hunch," Maka spat instead, that ghostly pain still lingering in the pit of her stomach.
"Fine, then it's not like you're stayin' much longer." That firm challenge flitted off his tongue with a renewed curl of his smirk.
Maka narrowly resisted the urge to flatten it with her fist. "I'm doing a better job than you anyway. He's only let you have an audience with him a few times, while I'm there every day." Victory puffed up her chest, making her smile match Star's. "I think it's safe to say you need me on this if you're ever going to find out whether or not you're right."
"I'm always right," Star grumbled before sighing. Even though they knew each other as children, attached by fate from birth, it was still rare to find him studying her, eyebrows actually furrowed as if in deep thought.
"You're going to give yourself a headache," Maka quipped as she turned an unyielding shoulder to him. "It means we're here until you figure it out. All I'm doing is helping you, so you should be thankful." With that pert declaration, she slipped back into the night.
Franken danced spindly fingers through Marie's golden hair as her head lay on his chest. The steady thump of his heart was only interrupted by bits and pieces of the letter as he whispered them in the darkness: "I hope you found that zealot you were looking for…"
Marie huffed, her restful palm that had been laying on his stomach suddenly raising so her nails bit slightly into his skin. "I wish we could kill him again," she murmured, close to a hiss but still so filled with heartache.
His smoothing slowed, resting momentarily at the nape of her neck. "No hard feelings here, so coming home is an option. Glad you're where you are so you can pick up the kids. They're a little wayward."
"And headstrong," Marie edited. Masao's– no, Maka! Franken's sure, and honestly, I can't deny it either. Maka's willful smile came to mind and Marie couldn't help but let a little of that past bitterness melt away.
"About your question: wife died ten years ago. Questionable. Husband wouldn't accept it. Disappeared, but word on him has been thin. Doubt he's dead, but always a possibility."
"Questionable…" Marie murmured before raising her head. Franken's face was partially obscured by the paper, only one soft green eye catching hers for a moment. "So Maka must have come here thinking maybe this was where her father was. 'Scythe' would be enough to draw her. Then she really has no idea what Soul is?"
Franken settled the letter at his side. Their bed was rarely a place for it, but steady logic creased his brow. "I'm sure she's blinded. Her father is the same way: one-sighted in a goal. She won't accept Soul's a scythe even with all the hints along the way."
"But the two of them…" Marie bit into her lip to cut the trail.
"Are connected now, yes." As always, the offering was succinct.
Marie couldn't help the way her heart leapt at the idea. "If we just– oh, I know I can't force–"
In an instant, Marie was on her back, Franken's chest firmly planting her against the bedding as that heart-fluttering smirk broke his lips. "You'll meddle, Marie." A chuckle reverberated through his chest to his, sending her skin alight. "I say that as if you haven't already. Just don't get too preoccupied with them– most of what will happen must happen on its own. We have our own matters to attend to."
The building fire in her started to smother as her tender glance moved from him to the darkened room. "Medusa's back."
He hummed a gentle affirmative, bringing it towards her skin as his lips dipped to meet her collarbone.
"Franken–" She tried to lift her hand against him but his grip tightened, his weight suddenly more substantial to pin her between the linens.
"Whether she is here or not…" His lips grazed along her skin. He took a moment, savoring a few nibbles of her along the way until he reached her ear. "I am yours. You are mine. Promise me"—his whisper grew hoarse—"that you'll protect Reina and yourself first."
She sighed with the weight of his words, finally getting her hands away so they could sink into his hair and bring him to face her. "We're a family"—while that was soft it was still full of demand as her doe eyes glowed more golden—"so I'll protect all of us, and you'll do the same. You just said it, Franken: you're mine. You're not alone, remember–"
His kiss was anything but gentle, nor was his need for her.
Medusa purposefully picked a few vials to leave askew. As she sat on Franken's desk, she leafed through the papers there, adding to the disarray. Even these little hints of chaos brought a satisfied joy that renewed the fire in her chest. "Oh, Franken," she purred as she leaned back, legs askew on his desk as she moved to stare at the ceiling. "What sweet little secrets are you keeping about that boy?"
She rolled onto her stomach, hearing the rip and tear of delicate parchment underneath her. Her legs kicked, hitting a shelf and giving the distinctive tinkle of shattering glass. "And what sweet little secrets can I get you to keep from Marie? From your beloved Reina?" Nails gripped like talons into the wood of the desk, a spiteful spit of venom glittering over her tongue as she uttered the name again: "Reina. What a darling. What a beautiful piece of the two of you…"
Her grip tightened, wood and muscle alike threatening to snap while her smile grew painfully wide. "How would you fare if I took them all from you? The boy, that sweet little girl– all of them my playthings, not yours." A fiery rush blazed up from her belly, fueling her movement off the desk and back to her feet. Whatever disorder she left behind only fed her, quickening her steps to exit Franken's office and meet the night.
The chance of privacy there was thin, so she moved back to the guest room allotted her. Wes—that verbose and overly pleasant man who was even more naive than his brother—had given her a fine placement with a perfect view of the comings and goings from that special young lord's courtyard. It was as if sneaking wasn't even necessary here, just an open buffet of information about what was supposed to be an elusive, sulking Soul.
She entered the finely furnished room that she was to call her own for the next few months, checked the window for movement to the young lord's, and then arrived finally at the dressing table she'd asked for. On it sat a gilded bowl, full just below the brim with water. She ran a finger along the edge, a low hum eliciting from the touch as it continued to spin round and round. Ripples started across the top of the water until a sudden snap froze the surface, a clear mirror sheen now glowing in front of her. "Eruka?"
The distressed, pock-marked face of a young woman appeared in the bowl. "I'm here."
"Good," she purred. "If Asura has a moment—a calm moment—let him know I'm settled. There was no argument, so I'll start preparing Soul for his real objective soon."
"I will." The girl's black eyes darted out of focus.
"Don't forget to keep taking samples from them and send those to me."
A woeful whimper tumbled off Eruka's lips before she could catch it, her eyes glossing slightly. "C-can I let them out for a little? They've been in that dark room for– for months and they've started talking to themselves again."
"No," Medusa chided. "Just write down what they say. Maybe it'll be something interesting."
Eruka could only sigh in reply.
"Just remind them that their mother loves them," she purred back. "The darkness is just a small price to pay for my love."
