Soul had been staring out into the garden for over an hour– not that it was necessarily doing him any good. It was entirely not where he wanted to be, but propriety and a healthy dose of his own fear kept him stuck on this new, alien engawa.

While it was years ago, he did remember his mother and the finery she always wore. Seeing a lady, or really just a woman was nothing new. But it struck him—and still did every time his mind glanced over the memory again—that Maka was entirely something new. Not to mention his perfect reaction had been to gape stupidly, to stare, to play mute until his father had actually forced some motion out of him.

And that was another horrible quandary– Takehiko.

The sour bile of the name sat on the back of his tongue and only flared to life again as Wes slid open the screen without even the courtesy of a greeting. "I assume you think what you did today was a bit of gallantry?"

Soul didn't bother to face his brother, knowing that his expression was in no way going to prove innocence in this. He uselessly shrugged.

"Father is furious."

He's scared, Soul so desperately wanted to correct. There had been a viciously dark moment of elation at that, the way Takehiko has shrunk from him like a child.

"I already told you that his agreement in this was tenuous–"

"He doesn't agree–" shot from Soul's mouth bitterly.

Wes huffed. "Honestly, what was the point?" He was now towering behind Soul, but the younger man still refused to move. "It was just some sake. That girl is betrothed to you whether you act like some sort of hero or not. There's no need to impress her."

"A hero?" Soul pitched his chin quickly over his shoulder, jaw unclenching just enough to hiss: "What? Should I have just let him do that to her?"

Wes let out a laborious sigh. "Soul, that's not the point. You grabbed Father– you hurt him."

Soul shook his head, the rage starting to build in his gut. "That's not the point. Answer my question, Wes: should I have sat there and done nothin' just like you did?"

Wes stared down the challenge in silence for a moment, his arms slowly moving to cross his chest. "It's not our place to question Father's tactics, and it was nothing new for either of us. He and Mother–"

He stood quickly, fists clenched at his sides as he tried to keep the thundering of his heart from driving him mad. "Exactly. That's what he did to Mother."

His brother shook his head. "Mother brought those things upon herself. Even her death was… was just a product of her own folly."

Pulling his hair out seemed the only satisfaction he was going to receive, but Soul tried to exorcize the wound with words instead: "Whatever you think about Mother, it doesn't apply to Maka."

Wes's eyebrows furrowed. "Soul, tell me, was today about winning that girl's affections?"

Soul sighed. As if I think I even have a chance of winnin' her affections!

"You need to get that out of your mind." He moved forward, a steadying hand wavering between them before Wes thought better of it. "I told you, your marriage is set, but love just isn't what you should expect. You know what you are—how dangerous this is—and getting attached to her will only hurt you in the end. When she's killed–"

"So you do agree with Father." He hadn't expected it to sting– his feelings for both his father and his brother were something that died in the darkness of that room in his two years of solitude. It was deeper than that– a horrifying void that suddenly had no fill.

For the first time in years, Soul watched his brother flounder. "What I meant was…"

"That I'll kill her." The finality of it brought a strange clarity, a sudden wave of a calm so filled with heartache he could barely breathe. "Since… you agree with him about Mother, too, don't you?"

"That's enough." Wes turned from him, starting back towards the door.

"No"—Soul wanted to bellow, but it came out as nothing more than a pained whisper—"it's not. I always assumed you– maybe you didn't, but you do. Be honest with me, Wes, and admit it: you think I killed Mother."

The way all of Wes's muscles contracted was enough, but it was the breathy reply that left him without a doubt: "Whether you did or you didn't, Mother got what she deserved."

Oh, how that dark, oily creature in the back of his mind wanted to pull him into that white-hot rage– wanted him to drown in it until it was his brother's blood he was choking on. The anxious itch beneath his skin was threatening to take him when he heard the bark from the courtyard:

"Hey, Whitey! Time for some sake!"

Soul turned his head, half sure he'd see Maka next to Star, but still feeling some comfort in the fact that only the man was standing there, sake in hand. "Just hold on." The warning was unnecessary since as soon as he looked for Wes, his brother was gone. The only remnants of him were the crash of the door shutting.

"Wait for what?" Star grumbled as he let himself onto the engawa. "Not like you're entertaining the court here. I hear you pissed them all off anyway by standin' up to your old man."

"Yeah, so maybe I'm not in the mood to celebrate." He tried to glare at that stupidly jovial face, but the effort did nothing to dissuade Star.

He pushed past Soul to sit on the floor as he dropped what was closer to a jug of sake to the tatami. "Arguin' with your brother, too, huh?"

Soul froze, more of that vitriol threatening to come off his tongue.

"Kinda hard not to hear…" Star tilted his head before dropping his concentration to the drink. He arranged the saucers and started to fill them. "But I ain't about to rehash that with you. I got a more important question."

Soul eyed the scene but knew there were no calculations to be made. He was drinking whether he—or Maka—liked it or not. Defeat came with him sitting on the mat, lifting the sweet sake and bringing it to his lips. With the burn still flickering in his chest, he muttered, "What is it?"

Star followed suit before starting to refill. As the last few drops trickled into his cup, he offered his question: "Why don't you just kill them?"

An incredulous laugh burst from Soul's mouth, but the coldness in Star's eyes stopped any others from following. "My brother?"

"And your father." He downed another drink.

Soul immediately followed with a shot of his own before choking out: "I-I can't."

"Somethin' tells me you could." Star eased back against the wall, abandoning his saucer for a moment as his glare bored below Soul's skin. "Your father was awful afraid of you today– just from you touchin' him. Your brother did jack shit to stop it. No one laid a hand on you, so I'm thinkin' there's good reason for that."

He reached for the jug first this time, pouring and having another taste before he could even loosen the thought. "They're afraid."

"For good reason?"

Soul nodded.

Star huffed. "Then what's the hold up? They treat you like shit. Asura probably wouldn't give two fucks if you murdered them and made yourself lord."

"I…" Soul dropped his eyes to the mat as his hands nervously wound into the extra fabric of his hakama. "I don't want to be the monster they think I am. Killin' them– killin' anyone would prove them right."

"Sorry, thought I heard you say you'd show them a beast if they hurt Maka again." Star leaned forward, intruding into Soul's avoidance. "You lyin' in front of my sister?"

"She's not your sister," Soul muttered lowly.

"Close enough," Star scoffed before grabbing the sake and pouring it for both of them. "Which means I want to get this straight– you takin' it back? You just gonna lay here and take it even if it means them hurtin' her?"

Soul held his stare as he tried to unravel the layers that made that question. I did kill for her. I protected her that night, and I protected her today. I didn't hesitate. The moment I felt the shift in her from courage to fear, I threw myself in the way. "No."

"No, what?"

"I'm done takin' it." Fear and exhilaration fought in his gut, churning until he took another shot to subdue them.

"Damn right." Star instantly refilled his drink. "Now, this is your last one."

Soul could only tilt his head in reply.

"Because you and I got training tomorrow."


In the pale light of the moon with still a little burn of sake in his blood, Soul's knees finally sunk into the dirt in front of the altar. His fingers drifted over Maka's handywork, the fine stitching still keeping the bib and cap in place. "Momma…" There was a new sweetness to his voice, only half the heartache of losing her leaching through. "I feel like this is the first time I can come here and say I kept a promise."

Soul lifted his other hand, fist unfurling to drop the pebbles at the statue's feet. "It's different– I'm different." His fingers spread them evenly, focusing on the hues of earth that appeared below his swipe. "I-I know there's no such thing as second chances, but… could I make this mine? If I can confront him, can't I give up the fear, too? Let it go and…"

A defeated sigh deflated him, sending his forehead towards the cool of the stone. "What is this feelin'?" he murmured as the dust plumed away from his mouth. "I told her that stayin' was up to her but… I want to beg her…" A frustrated grunt rumbled from his chest. "I'm bein' stupid." He lifted his head, glare flying up towards the trees as if something was there to either confirm or deny his accusation. Instead, there was silence.


Medusa tended to Takehiko's wrist, all the while listening to the vicious whispers about his son's dissent. Or, really, that little monster. The idea brought a lopsided smile to her face as continued to bind the injury. "My lord, if I may be so bold…"

Takehiko stopped his muttering to bring only a glimmer of interest Medusa's way. "Be careful," he cautioned.

Oh, I'm always careful. Her smile blossomed. "If you're displeased with his choice of bride, there are alternatives."

"How so?"

"It depends on what you would like, my lord." Yes, I'll give you a choice– or at least the illusion of choice. "Your son doesn't have much experience with ladies, I take it?"

A derisive snort was the reply.

"A young man like that is often prone to two things…" She tied off the wrapping, letting her nail run over the cloth to his forearm. "Though they may be opposites, it is often a battle between a wandering eye and jealousy. He already seems attached, but that girl is barely more than a mouse. He could be led astray under the right conditions."

Takehiko's other hand came to his chin, plucking at his whiskers. "And you would be responsible for this?"

"I would be honored to do whatever I could for your house, my lord." She slipped her hand away to give a short bow. "If you'll excuse me, I'll get started on that right away."

"See that you do."

Medusa nodded swiftly before letting herself out into the hallway. Grumbles still seemed to perseverate, but none of the ill will of it could even attempt to dim her amusement. Hearts are so easy to play. Better and sweeter than any koto. That predatory thrill had started to hum through her veins. It looks like my little family will have to reunite earlier than I expected.