Maka balanced precariously on the lip of the roof, watching the ray of light from the open screen of his room paint the garden. I can't ask myself why I came here. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, catching the wayward breath. But I can't–

Soul's long shadow cut into the middle of the beam as he took his first step onto the engawa. "Maka?"

She bit into her skin, quieting the yelp.

Regardless of the silence, he took another step, eyes wandering up to the eave to catch her motionless with the moon against her back. That fox's face instantly changed, forced by his quick hand as it flipped off the mask effortlessly. Before Maka could turn her head away, his other hand jutted upward, palm outstretched and welcoming in the divide between them.

He was the first one I wanted to come to. She stared at those extended fingers calling to her. And he just keeps pulling me in. While she was able to refuse the hand, she still brushed past it as she flitted off the rooftop to the engawa beside him. Soul's fingers followed, catching her sleeve to pull her with slow, steady steps backward into the room. In the light, there was no denying her face or his, one tear-streaked while the other contorted in worry.

It was the clack of his mask against the mat that broke whatever piece of fine twine was holding the rest of her together. Instead of single tears, they became a flood, saturating her cheeks with no hope of drought. His eyes barely left her, just enough to catch the door in her periphery to slide it the rest of the way closed. Once the job was done, those fingers climbed back to her sleeves, worrying nervously into the fabric.

It wasn't a pull– Maka knew the momentum was all her own, but the urge to stop it drifted away into the night. After Papa, there had been very few she'd allowed to engulf her, to hold her tightly as all the rest of her came apart, but she found herself falling, succumbing to the moment. She inched forward until her cheek rested against his chest, her hands gripping in vain to the side of his sleeping robes. His heart clamored against her ear, that unsure handle on her sleeves slipping away so his hands could hover.

It only took one more choking breath before they landed, heavy and wide palms anchoring against her back. Slowly, with all the trembling unsurety of a fawn learning to walk, one of those hands swept along her spine. Even in all its unpracticed nature, Maka sunk into that appeasing warmth, the calm that only his touch could bring. There was still that dripping bile saturating her heart, but at the very least, the gentle movements were starting to add a stitch or two to each wound.

When her shuddering shoulders stopped, she expected his release but found him breaking only when she did. A step between made his hands drop swiftly, his eyes still quiet in their study in the light of the new distance. "I–" Maka started, but found no finish.

In the absence of her voice, his sounded like a thunderclap even with the tender words. "Do you need to stay?"

No– bleated her mind defiantly but it did not urge her steps. Instead, she brought trembling hands to her face, starting the work of clearing her tears. "I didn't mean to…"

"I don't mind," he murmured back quickly. "Just give me a minute." Soul moved across the room, sliding open a closet and starting to rummage.

Maka half watched him out of the corner of her eye, still rubbing at her cheeks to rid herself of the stains. "What are you looking for?"

"Ah–" An extra set of bedding suddenly appeared, not so perfectly folded but clean all the same. He flopped it to the mat a respectable distance from his own. "Here–"

Her eyes popped wide.

His glance bobbed from the bedding to her, the realization suddenly adding a splash of pink to his face. "J-just to relax. I thought–" he killed the rest with a rough sigh.

"It's fine…" The smile that curled her lips came easily, that boyish fluster a rare sight that could at least amuse her. She walked towards the extra bedding and knelt beside it as she began to smooth the wrinkles.

"Then, I'll just–" his voice warbled as he started a fruitless walk across the room. His back was to her, his hand coming up into his hair to shake it scraggly as he seemed to ponder the wall.

As her fingers smoothed out the last bit of cloth she watched him sway, nerves bobbing him from foot to foot. "Would you mind–?"

"Yeah?" He cut in almost immediately as his head spun over his shoulder.

It was enough to bring a soft gasp of a laugh from her mouth. "You have a koto in your room now…"

Soul's eyes followed hers, narrowing at the opposite corner where the koto sat, dust free and ready for life. "Wes got a new one to celebrate me movin' in." He took one more moment to stare before looking back at her. "I haven't played it yet."

"Would you?"

He bristled, a new strain starting in his cheeks as he forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. "Don't see how that's gonna make anyone feel better…"

"It will," she urged as she slid onto the bedding to half press her face in the cool, crisp linen. "Please."

A weighty sigh brought even heavier footsteps.

The blankets didn't afford her a view of him, just the door left open a sliver to give a limited picture garden. She watched the thin line of night, holding her breath as she heard him settle. There were a few grumbles, a curse or two lost under his breath before that magical sound started again.

There were no strokes of hesitation, only a pure song that spun and wove around her as she lay. For all his reluctance to take to the strings, none of it appeared in the melody. It was still that same eerie piece of longing, but Maka could only hear him in it now instead of strange secrets. This was all purely him, a song that embodied his heart and soul and all she could find it was beautiful.


Soul's fingers ached from muscles underused, but continued until the lamplight started to flutter low. He slowed to stop, watching Maka as she lay in the linens. No motion came besides the steady rise and fall of her breath. A few more moments passed before he was on his feet and walking over to the slide to the garden, opening it more than a crack to pull in a lung-full of fresh air.

She came here.

He shook his head, but that whisper prevailed.

She came here lookin' for comfort from you.

His hand tensed into the wood frame, nails biting into the grain.

And you gave it so freely, like you deserved to be that man.

A sigh barely broke his lips.

"Soul?" A jolt of lightning slicked along his spine before he turned his head, seeing her eyes open and blinking out sleep. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's fine," he murmured. "Why don't you stay there and I'll just–"

"Sleep on the porch?" She quirked half a smile, the other side hidden by the bedding. "It's not like we haven't slept in the same room before." Her fingers inched towards the other set of sheets, tapping it lightly. "Only for tonight."

Soul couldn't catch the chuckle before it rumbled up from his chest even though the next moment that flashed over his mind left an ache. He followed that pull towards her, destroying the distance as easily as a butterfly wing in his palm. Falling into bed was simple, but meeting her eyes was not as the ceiling became his only hope until he felt the tickle of her fingers against his arm.

"Do you ever wonder what it'd be like if your mother were still alive?"

Even though a fist threatened to close around his heart, the way her touch worried into the arm of his robe brought the air back into his lungs. "All the time." A fluttering breath escaped her, forcing him to look over at a face stained again with tears. "Your parents?"

A bitter, horrible laugh bubbled up from her throat as her hand tightened on his arm. "I thought– I always told myself it was impossible, so why dream?"

"Easy"—he sighed out with a withering smile—"because you want it." Soul let his arm reach across his chest, unraveling the tight grasp she had on him to tangle their fingers. "Did you have a dream?"

"No," Maka murmured. "It's not a dream. He– my papa's alive."

Soul rolled to his side, edging closer as he gripped her hand. "Maka…"

She shook her head as if to shoo away the comfort of the name. "I was sure I was lying to myself. He was dead and all this searching, all this looking was for nothing, but it turns out–" That choked out on a sob.

Is that what you were here for? The selfish question bubbled over his mind, bringing bile to the back of his throat before he could swallow it. Now that it's done, now that you know that he's alive– "You should be with him."

Lids that had been firmly shut to push another wave of tears down her cheeks flung open, verdant green still glowing in the moonlight as she searched his face.

"That's what you want"—those words felt like poison on his tongue—"so you should go." He couldn't deny the relief that flooded him as her head shook and her hand seemed to pull his closer. "Is he here?"

Another strange twitter of a laugh gulped out between her next cry. "No. There was a letter. But h-he told me to go home."

The word was a knife, starting to carve a line in his belly. "Stayin' or goin'–" Soul couldn't finish as the blade hit his ribs, starting to tear against bone. Don't. Don't go. I'll beg if I have to! I'll do anythin' you want, just don't go!

"–is my choice," she completed it for him. It came with a crawling progression that froze him in his tracks. While his heart had been sure she'd pull away, Maka inched forward, bringing their joined hands to sit in the crux of her neck as she pressed her forehead to his chest.

Tell me this means you'll stay– the woeful plea echoed down to his bones. I don't deserve it, but I—his shaking exhale disturbed the wayward strands at the crown of her head—I know it now. How much I need you. How much I–

Her shaky whisper snapped through him: "Only for tonight."

"Yeah," he murmured back painfully. Then you'll leave me tomorrow, right? I thought that first night—while you were still Masao—I thought that was it. I thought you'd leave then, but I'm so much more sure of it now. That horrible inky thought stole away the will to keep his hands still. Instead, they pulled her closer, digging into her yukata to hold her fast to him. I could hold on all I want, but you were always gonna leave, and I have to let you.


Maka woke with the first rays of light even though she could barely see them. Not only was the door still only open a crack, but she was still nestled deeply into the safety of his arms. And I can't deny it, can I? I feel safe. This feels… right. Her wriggling started slowly, a tiny prayer repeating in her head as she willed him to stay asleep just long enough to see his face. She should have known it wasn't a hard wish since he rarely ever slept like anything other than the dead.

His mouth was a little slack, hair a prickly mess as his arms radiated warmth around her. She studied him, memorizing the lines and contours, the every inch of his face that maybe she took for granted. In his sleep, she could absorb him without being caught– without the worry of having to explain the 'why' that always sat so intangibly out of her grasp. She was entirely lost in him, missing the footsteps until they were just outside the door.

"Soul," Wes's voice sounded on the other side.

Soul's eyes shot wide, meeting Maka's in mutual panic. He opened his mouth, ready to call out when she put a gentle finger over the separation. Maka shook her head, shifting quickly as she planted a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back against the bed. Pink instantly flushed over his cheeks as she straddled him and leaned forward. She hovered close enough that they exchanged breaths. "Put your hands on my waist."

An indescribable spark flickered through his eyes, one hand resting over the tie on her hip while his other disobeyed orders and sunk into her hair. There was no pull with it, but Maka's heart skipped a beat when he sweetly shut his eyes, his head tilting ever so slightly against the bedding. He… this is what he wants? Her hand touched gently to his cheek. I… not now, Soul. Not when it's a lie. If that's what you want, I want you to know the truth with it.

The door slid open. "Brother, honestly–"

Maka put on her best show of a yelp, clutching indignantly at her robes as she shot up. "Wes!"

"Oh!" He turned instantly, facing the door instead of the display. "I-I'm sorry."

"Don't get upset," Soul purred sweetly to her as he sat up. The display continued as he gently rubbed her back. "Just hold that thought for a minute…" She moved to the side, letting him get up out of the linens and slip on his mask. There was no need to push Wes into the hallway, just both of them disappearing behind the slide as it closed.

Maka inched closer, honing in on the two voices.

"... she's refused the treatments."

"Her brother was against them," Soul's rough grumble came back.

"And your stance?"

"As you saw, she isn't shy. There shouldn't be a problem with producin' a child."

Maka rolled her eyes.

Wes's sigh was more musical than Soul's as it drifted through the slide. "Not to mention, she's been seen with Medusa's son."

A pause passed between the two before Soul cleared his throat. "So?"

"I assumed her to be a dutiful wife, but these are signs. Seeing another man? Refusing to have a child?"

"She's not refusing," Soul hissed.

"But you don't deny that she has been with Medusa's son?"

"With?" growled loud enough to threaten to rattle the door.

"If she's so eager to be between the sheets–"

This time the door did quake, the wood even bending and splintering slightly. "They had tea. Once."

"As far as you know."

"This conversation is–"

"I'm trying to protect you."

"Then stay out of it!" Soul's bellow echoed down to Maka's bones. "I won't talk to you about this again." The door crashed open before Soul entered and set it sailing back on its slide to crack again. His fists clenched at his sides, lips pressed tightly in a line.

"Soul…" Instead of standing, she crawled close enough to get a hold of the hems of his robe, tugging him back towards the floor. He swayed momentarily but finally buckled. "Breathe," she ordered as her hands came to his face, gripping the sides of the mask.

He caught her wrists to keep his cover intact while his mouth parted for a shaky huff of air. "You had tea with him again?"

Maka blinked, trying to decipher why scarlet eyes were boring into her. "Yes. A few times."

Soul released his grip, allowing Maka to take off his mask, but only revealing another beneath it. His face was blank as the words rolled lifelessly off his tongue: "You heard what my brother thinks that means."

"Yes," she couldn't keep the hint of disdain from her voice, "but I was just being–"

"Ladies don't have tea alone with men." A coolness was filtered into each syllable, his glare still steady on her. "And the fact that it's Medusa's son…"

"It all looks bad," Maka murmured with a sigh as she dropped her hands to her lap with the mask still tightly clutched. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't even think of that. I've never had to be careful about meeting with men before. Commoners don't really hold the same standards, I guess." She tried to shrug, but most of it withered as his face stayed stiff. "Do you really think it's that much of a problem?"

His hand came to his face, suddenly wiping away the chill while his eyes fell to the mat. Maka watched his mind churn for a moment before his whisper finally cut through all his thoughts: "No. It's not. Don't worry about it."

She watched his focus as it dissolved, some other voice seeming to call from him and take his attention away. Maka reached for him, hand gently falling on his arm. "Soul, would you… can you meet me tonight?"

"I meet you every night, don't I?" There was a bitter twinge to that, rippling through the smile he attempted to give her.

"Late," she replied. "At the shrine."

He glanced at her, worry lining his brow. "Why?"

"I–" Maka slid her hand down his arm until she could sink into his palm. "There's something we should talk about, and it needs to be done alone." I need to set this to rest. I need to admit that I'm not going anywhere, no matter how much you worry about it. She squeezed gently, feeling his pulse quicken. "I-I only want you to know."

He nodded, his fingers delicately grazing hers before he stole his warmth away. "You should go. Get ready for the day. Reina will probably be here any minute."

"Tonight?" Maka prompted again softly, a tiny inkling of fear lighting as he reached for his mask instead of her.

He brought the wood back to his face, hiding behind it. "Tonight."