The lamp was still on when Maka returned, the soft glow calling to her as she stepped up onto the engawa. His eyes were waiting to catch her as she entered, latching immediately just to be overcome with tears at the sight of her again. She slowly walked to her side of the curtain, hearing him roll over in his bedding and try to hide shaky breaths in the cloth. She grabbed her bundle and started back towards the divide.
He didn't move as she dragged her things to his side, face half disappearing in the fabric. "Soul–" she tried to nudge him with her voice but it only dug him further, his hand coming up to clutch the bedding over his face. "Well, if you're going to act like a child, I suppose I'll have to treat you like one." Maka arranged herself neatly next to him before lying down to face him. She reached and their skin met, her fingers seeming so small over his.
Soul jumped, hands tensing further into the fabric to no avail as she pulled his hand away, bringing it to the tatami mat between them. One red eye blinked over the white.
"Only for tonight," she clarified in that strict, mother hen tone.
A fluttering breath brought the sheet lower, exposing the grim line of his lips with no reply to stumble off of them.
She stared, waiting. Slowly, his fingers unfurled from their tightness, letting her warmth sneak in between his. "My name's Maka."
"I know," he murmured.
"I know you know thanks to that blabbermouth," she muttered in return, but her fingers were anything but bitter, searching and soothing over his. "But I won't tell you why I'm here."
"I know," he repeated effortlessly.
Her smile faltered, brow wrinkling slightly as she studied his face. "Why is it alright for me to stay then?"
His eyes closed in reply.
"For all you know–"
"We both have secrets." His tone was suddenly ice, air between them frigid even with the heat of their hands.
But I don't think yours can hurt me, Maka's mind whispered back mournfully.
"It's your choice," he murmured. "Stayin'– goin' has always been up to you."
Maka's heart ached at the reply: Because you're trapped here no matter what.
His lids opened to the first eking rays of sunlight across the mat. Soul tried to erase the memory and blame it on the drink, but all of the night before was too clearly etched into him like the scars on his skin. There was no explaining away Maka laying next to him, her hand still over his. The ache in his head drifted to his heart as he sat up, the first barbs of fear digging into his chest. How long? He sucked in shaky air before his eyes fell on her again so he could trace the lines of her sleeping face. How long before I let another beautiful thing be destroyed?
As that bit of terror threatened to bubble, the warmth of her hand seemed to spark as a comforting bit of easiness crawled up his arm. That itching under his skin, the pain of the blades threatening to burst, was starting to melt and thaw under the waves that he stole from her fingers. I wonder if she feels this. If she knows. If it even… would it matter to her if I told her? Would it change her mind– change her reason for bein' here? His grin stretched ruefully as he pulled his hand from under hers.
Soul snatched his case by the bedding and slipped on his mask before sneaking to his feet. He placed careful footsteps against the mat, picking up the lantern and pausing at the slide of the door to listen for her rustling wakefulness that never came. Instead of resting on the engawa he jumped down to the dirt, wandering slowly across the courtyard until he reached the gnarly ancient maple. He slipped underneath the bower before flopping against the trunk and beginning to pack his kiseru in the weak light left by the lamp.
His first bitter pull was drifting between the leaves when his eyes flashed to the roof, seeing that odd man sitting on the eaves. He raised a hand, watching as that brought a sneer to Star's face before reciprocating. "She in there?" he hollered without temperance.
Soul nodded.
He huffed before dropping to the engawa with more noise than grace. Star walked into the open doorway before slamming it closed behind him. Watching– waiting wasn't easy, especially as the two voices started a cacophonous chorus. The next few inhales of smoke started to blur the edges, but somehow he found his heart still entirely shivering in his chest. He could be convincin' her– tellin' her to go. Isn't that better? Havin' her leave? Leave now before I–
The door snapped back open, stuttering on its track with the force of Star's frustration. He started with hard steps, puffing dust behind him before approaching Soul under the tree. "What a fuckin' pain in my ass…" he muttered as he sat in the dirt in front of Soul. Reaching into his yukata produced two saucers while the other side revealed a smaller corked bottle of sake. Star placed the one in front of him and the other stayed in his hand to get the first pour. "Now, listen, Whitey."
Soul lowered his pipe, letting the rest smolder.
"I have a sister–" Star started before gulping back the saucer full of liquid. He reached towards Soul and filled it before adding more to his own. "She's a giant pain in the ass, but she's old enough to marry, and I can write up some kinda payment for actually taking her off my hands."
Soul looked to the drink before back at Star. "What're you talkin' about?"
"Have a drink."
"Little early," Soul complained before pushing the sake back towards him. "What're you talkin' about?"
Star only paused long enough to drown both cups. "That was my original genius plan. Not her dressin' like a boy even if she has the tits for it."
Soul grimaced.
"Long engagements are a tradition around here, aren't they?" He shrugged off the sour face that was blossoming under the mask. "So, you want her to stay– it obviously can't be as a page. One person already found out and while she thinks she's a master of deception, she ain't."
"She wants to stay," he murmured.
"Pfft–" Star broke off into a snicker. "Sure, Mr. Please-slit-my-throat is suddenly not into the arrangement. You seriously tryin' to tell me you don't want her here?"
Soul let his eyes drift over to the pipe before lazily moving his shoulders.
Sharp cackles of laughter broke the air, Star's body shaking so much with each expulsion that he dotted drops of sake against the dirt. "So that's the deal, Whitey: As far as you know, I have a sister. I need to marry her off, and I've decided you're as good a catch as I'm gonna find for her."
Soul tapped at the lacquer case. "She'll leave eventually."
Any laughter trickled away. "Yeah. You're both pushin' off what's gonna happen anyway. So what do you want, Whitey? Now or later?"
Let her go– his mind begged desperately while his heart rattled against his ribs. Even if her touch does stop the blades now– how long? How long will that last?
"Now or later?" Star pressed before offering the saucer again.
Soul took it, careful for his fingers to never touch the other man's before bringing it to his lips. The punch did nothing to settle the jittering in his chest. It's selfish. How long before you have to watch her face just like–
Star tipped the lip of the bottle to Soul's cup again. "Drink another one and then say it."
He attempted to follow the order, bringing the drink back but just as the burn hit his tongue the slide flew open again. "What are you doing?" Maka spat across the yard, making both men's shoulders set tightly.
Star tapped Soul's drink the rest of the way back with his finger before turning it to wag at her. "None of your business. Whitey and I needed to have a man-to-man."
"Now it's a man-to-man-to-woman," she hissed as she sat.
Star abandoned the saucer and slung back the bottle. Maka reached for him, trying to swat the gulping idiot as he kept her at bay with a hand to her cheek.
Soul watched them, a tentative, disastrously warm smile starting on his lips. With one more sweep of the scene, he bowed deeply, lowering his head only a few inches from the ground. The mask was just a breath from the earth, leaving most of it muddled but still hit the fussing two like a lightning strike. "Please pretend to be my betrothed."
Black Star wilted with an annoyed grumble, falling to his side to peek into the separation between Soul and the dirt. "You literally just begged a girl to fake bein' married to you. Do you understand how pathetic that is?"
His shoulders lifted weakly as he brought his head up a few more inches, tilting his chin so that his red eyes bore through her. "Will you?"
Maka pulled in a trembling breath, trying to will her words to work. "I–"
Star twirled the sake bottle, huffing at what was left of its contents. "For all you know she might just be here to kill you. Ever think of that?" He sneered at the masked face.
Another half-hearted movement of his shoulders brought with it a slow release of breath, barely a sigh. "If that's what she's here for, let her."
"Death, you're hopeless," Star groaned. "Well, Maka"—his eyes shined with devious delight at the name that he knew was grating up her spine—"what do you think?"
"Fine," she muttered.
Star didn't hide his cackles. "Fine you'll kill him, or fine you'll pretend to marry him?"
"Maybe both." Maka gave a pert smile for Star's benefit before turning wrinkling eyebrows towards Soul. "There'll need to be some changes."
"Oh, here we go," Star huffed.
She didn't even bat an eye in his direction, her sole focus on Soul. "Star has been staying at an inn, but a long engagement will mean both of us will have to be moved onto the estate."
"Wes would have made that happen whether you wanted it or not," Soul grumbled as he ran his fingers through his hair. "But the main house with my father might be… difficult. Especially with Medusa around."
"You don't mean…" Maka's eyes twitched back towards the house, trailing along the siding that housed those hidden rooms that only Star had explored.
Soul followed her glance. "There's more than one room."
"No," Maka interjected quickly. "You're not staying in that other room. I won't–"
His eyes cooly flicked back to her but his smile stretched with an ache of muscles unused. "There's a hallway off that room. It leads to a small kitchen and a few even smaller bedrooms."
Maka's eyes widened.
"This was… my mother would stay here. They were her quarters." He touched his calloused fingers together, for a moment comforted by the friction. "Those two front rooms—the one we stay in and the other one—used to be a hall of sorts. She would perform there."
"They used to be one?" Maka murmured.
"Father walled off the back one when she died"—Soul's smile finally died along with any of the beauty in the memory—"and left me just the one room."
Maka sighed.
"So livin's settled," Star barked, breaking the control of the heartache over Maka's tongue.
"Fine…" Her hands crept forward to her knees, fingers bunching into the fabric. "I want you to agree to training as well."
Even though she expected another boisterous bout of laughter, Star was silent, now only a second set of eyes on Soul.
Soul straightened his shoulders a little further, glancing between the two. "Trainin'?"
"You've been lazy," she delivered that with a sting of undiluted honesty, "since most men your age know how to fight. I assume by ten you had started some kind of training, but this interlude in your studies is over."
"I–" He hesitated, eyes lingering towards the pipe. "Who would I train with?"
"Star," Maka offered with a quick wave of her hand towards the menace himself, "and hopefully me as well. I'm unsure of how much this betrothal thing will get in the way."
He gripped the body of the kiseru, knuckles tight. "If I hurt him–"
"Fat chance," Star scoffed. "More likely I'll kill you, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
Please– Soul had no handle on the nebulous plea that wanted to escape his mouth, but as he brought his eyes to hers, he could almost believe she knew. Somewhere, under that beautiful jade, was some kind of fantastical understanding of all of the curse he carried.
"No one is killing anyone else," she murmured, her own fleeting promise of moments ago conveniently forgotten. "Star may get a little out of control, but nothing will happen to either of you besides bruises, I promise."
"Well, I don't." Star sneered as he righted himself, hopping to his feet as if sake weren't surging through his blood. "Honestly, can't wait to get a stab at you. So agree with her already."
"While I appreciate the support"—Maka grumbled up at him—"there's one more thing I need to ask him, and for that you have to leave."
Star's eyebrows burst upwards. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It's none of your business, so leave." Maka didn't hesitate to slam his shoulder, sending Star teetering in an effort to save what little was left of his precious sake.
Grumbles and curses started under his breath, but Star still stumbled to his feet. "After you listen to her stupid rules, we should celebrate." He tipped the sake bottle towards Soul again with a coarse laugh. "Find me and we'll drain a couple of these. Sure your brother will be supplying the drinks once he hears about the engagement."
Soul grimaced, the idea of Wes's joy sending his stomach for a loop.
"See ya, sis." Star made sure to ruffle her hair before breaking out of the overhanging branches.
Once the leaves settled, silence crept in. Soul dragged at his pipe again, catching the embers just before they died.
Maka broke the silence with a scolding: "You probably shouldn't drink if you're having that."
As if I should have expected less bossin'. A gentle smile started on his face, spreading an amusing bit of insecurity on hers. The urge struck him and he gave in to it with a shaking hand, lifting the mask off his face and settling it on his crown. "What's the last condition?" he prompted.
Jade eyes popped wide as if his face was still something entirely new. "I-it's more comfortable, isn't it?"
Soul shrugged. "Yes and no. You saw me last night so…"
"About that–" She latched onto that with strict seriousness. "I meant it when I said that was only for last night. This isn't– we don't sleep together."
"We have been…?" Soul raised an eyebrow.
"In the same room, yes," Maka snapped back, "but not next to each other like that, not– and not anything more than that, do you understand?"
"You mean fornication."
The word was simple for Soul to utter, but it seemed to toss Maka entirely, her cheeks pinking. "Exactly. You want to pretend, and that's all it will be– pretend."
"That's fine," he muttered before toying with the end of the kiseru in his mouth. "I'd never hurt a woman like that anyway."
"Hurt…?" Maka echoed him, her eyebrows wrinkling.
His mind tried to wander to his mother's face, but he pulled in another inhale from the pipe, drowning it out in smoke. "Like you said, it's all pretend."
"Alright." She was still studying him, sweet jade starting to narrow as her mouth gaped for another reply.
He tapped out his pipe, the last dregs of the ashes barely marring the ground. "I– there's one thing."
"Oh." Maka buttoned her lip.
He cocked his head. "Do you know how to be a lady?"
Immediately, any pink left on her face turned to red as her lips curled into a frown. "I am a woman, so I think I have some idea–"
Soul blindsided her rage with a soft sigh. "But a lady– in a court?"
"I–" Her argument fizzled, eyes falling to her lap to worrying hands.
He nodded just for himself, a moment of surety striking him. "I know it's a risk, but if you let me tell Marie, she can–"
Maka scoffed, bristling just as quickly as the sound erupted from her mouth. "Marie is the head maid, how does she know about being a lady?"
"She was one," Soul whispered softly.
"What?" She gaped.
"Just what I said." I can't offer any more of her secrets. "Which means you should let her teach you. If you leave now, go to that inn and spend some time with her…" He paused, glance threatening to fall away to his pipe but lighting on her face instead. Though she'd always struck him as headstrong and sure, all Maka seemed to be doing was nodding along, ears open. She's listenin'. "It would just make sense that after another page died, I would take some time before decidin' on finally goin' for an engagement."
"Died?" Maka blinked before completing a momentary assessment of herself as if to validate his claim.
"That body last night…" A tremor raged in his gut, splitting the breath he was trying to take. He paused, erasing the blade and the blood from his mind. "Franken can claim it's you. No one would find it hard to believe that I…"
She leaned forward, catching his eyes that dared to falter away from her. "You said another, Soul."
A trembling hand came to his face, rubbing in vain before withering down to his chin. "When I was younger, my second page died. It was an accident, but… it was my fault– because I wasn't careful. That's why I warned you about touchin' me, about gettin' close to me. I've gotten better, but I'm not perfect. I've… hurt other pages too."
"Soul, I've touched you before."
"When I was weak," he muttered as he tossed his hand into his lap. "It's safe then because I can't… lose control."
"No"—she reached for him, hand climbing close as it hovered over the leg of his hakama—"last night, I touched you. I held your hand, but even before that, I hugged you. Nothing happened to me."
Those earlier questions ripped another hole in his heart as he watched her hand finally fall over his: Would it matter to her if I told her? Would it change her mind– change her reason for bein' here? While the thought tasted bitter on his tongue, he couldn't deny the harmony that seeped from her fingers to his. "When you…"
When the silence crept in, Maka squeezed his hand before whispering: "When I…?"
A trembling laugh barely left his mouth. "I try– I try to control myself but ever since my mother died, it doesn't matter. Then you…"
"Then I'm like your mother." Her smile returned, soft but somehow not reaching her eyes, just a phantom of comforting on her lips.
"No"—he pressed back quickly with a huff of a sigh—"that's not what I mean. You… does it feel different?"
A brush of pink ran along the top of her cheekbones. "D-does what feel different?"
It doesn't feel like a million blades want to break from my skin just as long as you're touchin' me! Frustration started to rattle in his chest, his heart pounding to meet it. But if I tell her that– if she knows what I am–
"It's comforting." Maka offered him an answer between all his tumultuous thoughts. "That's what touch is, Soul. Maybe it's just that now you're ready to accept that when before you weren't."
No—the argument stumbled over a tongue so tied he could barely open his mouth—I know it's you, but tellin' you that… Instead, he let a short nod speak the opposite for him.
"Can we trust Marie?"
Soul nodded again, this one not hitting him anxiously as a lie.
"Alright. Then we go with your plan. I guess I'll sneak out now, while it's still early…" The warmth of her hand drifted away as she got to her feet. Maka reached out for the bower, clearing away the leaves and letting some light in. "A week, maybe two?"
"Two," he murmured. "I'll tell Marie about you—Maka—and she'll help."
"And I'll come back a lady," she muttered with an added roll of her eyes. That brought her to a soft giggle that lit up her cheeks for a moment. "You know, it'll be strange not seeing you."
"Yeah…" A new ache drifted aimless in his chest.
"Just…" She moved her arms to cradle herself, hands gently cupping her elbows. "Promise me you'll eat, you won't go in that other room alone, and you definitely won't smoke too much."
"Mother hen," he chided, half-heartedly. The other half still couldn't help but plead– want. "Next, you'll tell me I can't drink."
"With Black Star, no."
"Remember: you're only pretendin' to be my wife." He managed a smirk, especially as an extra gleam of color hit her cheeks.
Maka turned with a huff, starting out into the sunshine. Before she was out of view, he heard her grumble: "Be careful or I'll fulfill the other part of the bargain and kill you instead."
