The sake was the only pleasant thrum in her veins. Everything else pricked at the base of her neck with an icy chill. Soul had watched that display with such deep interest, entirely engaged by these women and their performances. As if I blame him. It must be nice– to be suddenly not loathsome but desired. Instead of forgotten, now the center of everyone's thoughts. This is what he deserves, isn't it? To be a part of this, to be accepted, to be–

"Drink," Star spat as he shoved another saucer under her nose.

While orders from him usually received an eyeroll and nothing more, Maka followed this one to find that warming bliss draining away a little of the ache of that thought. At least now it was becoming harder to actually produce them in the quickly greying world.

"Hey," Soul's complaint suddenly sparked by her ear as he snuck closer to her and Star. "How much have you given her?"

"I know how to drink," Maka hissed back, sending him a glare. "Y-you may be my groom, but that doesn't entitled you to–"

"How much," he spat again at Star.

"She's gone drink for drink with me so far," he chuckled back, bringing a darkness to Soul's face that rivaled the night.

Blank, cool eyes turned to stab at her. "Can you stand?"

"I'm fine," she muttered.

His hand grasped her arm, lifting her elbow slightly. "So if you got up right now, you wouldn't be meltin' back to the floor again?"

"It doesn't matter because I'm not going anywhere." She tried to shimmy out of his grasp, but Soul only brought his other hand into play, another steady connection to her other elbow.

"You're goin' back– I'm takin' you back."

Her eyes started to burn as she tried to keep the warbling whisper just to him. "What, so those women can laugh at me some more? So they have more to say behind my back while you–" You look at them! She caught that between her teeth, a new taste in her mouth that was so alien yet so real.

He stared, eyes wide before a blink brought them back with a steadying surety. "Put your hands on my chest," he whispered.

"What?"

"Listen to me."

She placed them there, toying at the edge between his kosode and haori.

Soul leaned towards her, cheek brushing against hers as his breath tingled on her earlobe. "They can talk about this instead." His hand moved from her arm to her shoulder before dusting lightly against her neck, catching a wayward tendril of her hair. "They can laugh about some stupid groom who can't keep his hands off his bride. That he's some kind of fool and she's a dutiful, perfect woman who lets him." His other arm moved across her back, clutching tightly at her waist.

In one smooth movement she was on her feet, pressed against him as he took her swaying weight. "Now," his voice still purred against her ear, "tell me the truth. How likely is it you're gonna be able to walk?"

"N-not likely." Maka couldn't stop from clutching to him, feeling his muscles straining under the fabric.

"Well, get ready to hate me."

"What–" The word gasped from her mouth as her feet were swept out from underneath her again. It wasn't as perfectly smooth, a little jostling of her legs against his arm as he heaved her into the air. "Soul!" she shrieked, fists instantly battering at his chest.

The room twittered with excitement, Star's cackles bellowing over the top of them all. "Lovebirds at it again," he crowed.

"Put me down!" Maka growled, another strike hitting his shoulder.

"Save that energy," Soul cooed back as he started a few steps towards the exit. "Just like I'd rather save mine. Thanks for the congratulations, but my bride and I have some moonlight we need to meet under."

"Soul!" She protested again but to no avail. The faces flashed by her as Soul continued his steady gait out of the room. They'd made it out of the house proper, starting on the path towards the overhang. "Now let me down!"

"You magically sober up in a couple steps?" he grumbled.

"No, but now there's no one to see so if I stumble–"

"And break your neck," he snapped.

Maka beat another useless fist against his shoulder. "That was ridiculous! Crass! To even insinuate in front of all those people that we were going to–"

"Supposed to happen," Soul grumbled as he made his way under the arbor and into the courtyard of where he used to call home. "What do you think these nightly visits are supposed to be for?"

She clenched into his haori, glad for the ability to hide the deep flush of her face. So he didn't need the book. He's known all along!

"Here we go." He let Maka down, her feet gently touching the tatami as his hands settled on her elbows to hold her up. "Sit here, I'll grab some water and start the rest for some tea."

Maka let her knees fold, still staring up dumbly at him as he wandered back into the hallway towards the kitchen. She pressed her cheeks between her palms, desperate breaths barely shifting through the divide. What am I doing? Letting these petty little thoughts eat up my sense! I am free, he is free, and all this is pretend. So stop!

The whispers in her mind didn't matter, especially as the time ticked away without his return. She shuffled nervously against the floor, glancing around the room for some kind of steadying force. Instead, she saw the koto—the delicate decoration of any living room—and all of the sense she had tried to snatch in a stranglehold simply slipped through her fingers.

She crawled on her knees towards the instrument, hands poised over strings as if she could call up some power to instill her with all the knowledge she needed. The frustration sprouted tears in her eyes, that strange urge for perfection strangling her. I want to know how. I want to because… I want him to look at me like that. That flushed the tears down her cheeks, her heart aching desperately as her fingers hovered.

"What the hell are you doin'?" There was a sweet playfulness to his voice as he settled beside her. He transferred the cup of water to her hands, holding them steady for a moment. "Don't tell me–"

"I want to learn," she pressed instantly.

"Hey…" He left her with the water, using a free hand to tilt her chin towards him. "Tearful drunk, huh?"

Maka choked out a bitter laugh.

His hand dropped to tap at the cup. "Drink."

She drank while she rubbed the tears from her cheek with her sleeve. The silence wore on her, making the water taste bitter as her throat almost closed to it. "Would you teach me?"

"Maka…" Her name petered off into a chuckle.

"I'm serious." She hated the way that morphed into a plea.

He sighed, his head falling into his hands for a moment as he shook it glumly. "Here…" As the word drifted off his tongue he raised his eyes to her hands over the instrument, grabbing one while he gathered up the fingerpicks with the other. "You don't want to hurt yourself. Plus, it wouldn't sound right." He slid them one by one on her right hand. "Move down."

Maka shuffled over, leaving her water to the side.

"I'm–" A sigh overtook that as he got up on his knees. "Just hold still, alright?"

The memory of his haori over her shoulders flooded her mind as the sensation first struck her as the same. His hands suddenly appeared over hers, his heartbeat ticking away against her back, and Maka knew it wasn't cloth but him draped over her. There was a divine moment when her breath came easy as if all of her unfolded before she was flooded with the grief of it. Even this moment is a lie.

"Put your hands under mine."

She tried to press away the ache and only focus on the order.

His sigh lit up her neck with its warmth as his whisper continued: "Don't try to do anythin' too fancy. Just follow my fingers for a while." Soul's guidance was slow, lightly toying with the pressure and position. What came from the strings seemed like anything but music, too slow to be a solid melody.

"It doesn't sound right," Maka murmured.

He chuckled, the reverberation of it tingling along her spine. "S'alright. Just startin' out, so you're bound to sound like this."

"But–"

Pressure from his palms brought her hands flat against the strings. "Maka, what's wrong?"

She wanted to buck him off, to tear herself away with hopes that his glow would fade away and stop tangling tightly around her heart. As if he knew, his arm came up, crossing to her shoulder and pulling her back away from the instrument to rest against him. There was no chance for escape and what's worse, it was only that last bit of logic in her that wanted the opportunity. Instead, in a soft warble, she spoke: "You were so… entranced by those girls playing."

A grunt rumbled from his throat as his head dipped closer to her shoulder. "I was."

Then let me go! She wanted to scream but it crumbled weakly on her tongue.

"Because it was awful." His tongue snapped at the shame of it. "Surprised you didn't guess why they did that. Usin' my talent– like doin' what I do is the way to impress me."

"You didn't like it?" The question tumbled off her tongue breathlessly.

"Said it was awful." He chuckled softly. "I don't expect you to hear it like I do, but… the notes are all wrong when all you're playin' for is clout or some kinda selfish desire. I wish I could've torn myself away." His voice lowered down to a barely there murmur: "Would've preferred listenin' to you read."

Maka's face flushed, her hands frantically pulling back to ball up in her lap. "But reading–"

"Any tune from your mouth holds more meanin' than any of them playin'." His hands trembled as they withdrew, suddenly stealing the warmth from her back. "I-I think the tea's probably ready. Do you need help walkin' to your room?"

"No…" She murmured, frozen now without his touch.

She heard the floor creak, his standing figure sneaking into her periphery. "I'll bring you some tea." His footsteps were slow, but they were still receding, leaving Maka with questions resounding in her head.


Soul leaned over the tea as it steeped, his hands clenching tightly against the countertop as the color drained from his knuckles.

What do you think you're doing?

He winced, a sigh withering over his lips.

Didn't you hear your brother? Love isn't for you, you monster.

Turning over his palms letting the pink start to flood back, the return of the heat of his blood reminding him of her warmth against his chest. The curve of her back fitting to him. The tickle of her hair when he moved too close for a whisper. The absolute endless buzz that beckoned from her skin to his, the separation of clothing meaning nothing.

That's not what love is though, is it? That feelin'– those kinda feelin's are fake. Just like that book. It's just my body, because my heart—his hand moved to his chest as if to keep the thumping beast in place—my heart isn't somethin' she'd want. It's not somethin' I can burden her with.

His next breath tried to bolster that with some surety as he picked up the tray. He walked to her room, seeing the door still open. I go in there, I give her the tea, and I leave. That was the resounding affirmation as he drifted into the doorway.

It started to evaporate into smoke at the sight of her. She was unburdened from the layers of kimono, now just in her sleeping robe as she sat untangling her hair. He couldn't tell if the pink of her cheeks was from any more tears or the scrubbing away of her makeup, but clear green eyes told him the truth as she looked up at him. "I'm sorry."

He cleared his throat, unsure of what should tumble out of it next as he lay the tray at her side. I should leave– Soul tried to urge again but his knees buckled instead, leaving him only separated from her by the steamy brew. "Don't bother. You had a tough mornin', and it's not like that party happened to improve any of our moods."

Her fingers trembled into his vision, grabbing at the cup to bring it up to her lips. He refused to follow it, glare still focused on the tray. "It's bitter," she murmured.

"Not supposed to taste good." He shrugged. "Only supposed to keep you from havin' a headache tomorrow."

A soft laugh, so sweet it could haunt him, escaped her. "Then I guess I should thank you."

"Not a big deal," he murmured. Now leave. Leave, leave, leave, don't– Weakness in his heart brought his eyes to hers no matter the screaming in his mind. "Just let me know if you don't feel up to tomorrow– me comin' by I mean. I can– I'll leave you alone."

"No"—she glanced at her tea—"we can't really afford to miss a day of your training, even if Star probably drank more than both of us combined."

He laughed dryly, his fingers nervously playing with the grain of the tatami. "Then I'll come by after I drop off Reina."

"Like usual," Maka added.

"Yeah…" He leaned back, trying to motivate himself to stand but finding his feet stuck in quicksand. "I'm sorry about what I said in the hall."

"You had to," she murmured back with a withering sigh. "A normal couple would be doing just that, so if you… have to insinuate things like that it's fine. Just please don't expand unless it's necessary."

Soul lifted innocent hands.

"Thank you." That left them in silence, only filled by the sips of tea.

He still teetered, urges pulling him in every last direction as she refused to sound any order. Tell me to leave. Tell me to get out. What happened at the koto, what's happenin' now, all of it is just–

"I think I should lay down." She had already started as she said it, placing the cup down as she slid into the bedding. Ash-blonde hair started to splay over the white sheets.

A sigh that was a tumultuous mixture of relief and heartache left his lips. "Just reheat the tea in the morning. It'll still do some good." He almost had the momentum to stand when his sleeve caught.

Her fist was gripping tightly into the fabric, keeping him in place. "Promise me something."

Shame colored his cheeks as the thought almost instantly hit his mind: I'd promise you anythin', don't you know that? He nodded breathlessly instead of letting any of that grace his tongue.

"Don't go back to the party."

A trembling laugh stuttering over his tongue. "Why would I?"

Her eyes closed as if the question was a flick to the forehead, annoyance and a speck of pain wrinkling the spot between her eyebrows.

"Maka…" His hand wavered but she made the choice for him as her grip tightened.

"Just don't, please."

"I won't." But why does it matter? Why does it make a difference to you if I go back there? And why– why do those other girls matter so much to you? She rolled on her side, hiding her face half in the linens but still refusing to relinquish her hold on him. He squirmed, the excuse to stay almost too much to bear. "I promise, alright?"

She nodded, face further disappearing to the point where he worried for her breathing. Her fingers relaxed, letting the cloth slip out from between. Pulling his hand away should have been the only option, but tentative fingers hovered forward, carefully moving the hair from her face. I'm just checkin' if she's cryin', if she can breathe in there. The flimsy excuse sat bitterly in his mind as he tucked another tendril with a sigh. He couldn't be sure if it was sleep or just the promise that had brought her silence. I wish I knew.

Soul stood finally, slow steps bringing him towards her doorway where he paused one last time. I really wish I knew all of your secrets, or at least the ones from tonight. He slid the door closed, resting his head against the wood to catch his breath as his heart thumped away in his chest. But for now, I'll settle on keepin' my promises.