[A/N] : My first resbang ever! My partner is the sweet and talented aiilovh, who painted the beautiful piece as the cover of this story!
Big big big big thanks to my betas, sissy Bulan, Ash, chloe and zxanthe, for guiding me through the labyrinth that is the English language!
Thank you for grigoriwings family and mods who had organized this amazing event!
Chapter 1 : Death City Isn't A Proper Place To Make Friends
"But Kamiko, honey, you can't do this!"
These were the last words Papa spoke to Mama.
"You had your chances, Spirit. And I have my decision."
These were the last words Mama spoke to Papa.
"I love you, darling… I love you… I love you…"
They were the last words Mama spoke to her.
"I love you too, Mama…"
And they were the last words she spoke to Mama, with a horrible foreboding that they might not see each other again.
She closed the book with a why-bother-to-count-anymoreth disappointed growl. The black cat on her lap hissed at the disturbance and threw her a dirty look before continuing her nap.
As usual, no decent results.
"Oh, fuck me sideways…" she grumbled. Her cat meowed a sharp yowl that eerily sounded like a scolding mother. She ignored her. There were more frustrating things than a cat commenting on your language.
She had already lost count of how many weeks she'd spent in this particular corner of her huge library, trying to crack her latest finds in Mama's research document.
"Who exactly was the asshole that invented alchemical coding and then thought it was a great idea to use it in research?" she asked her cat, but of course the feline wouldn't answer; she was not an alchemist.
Mama was an astounding alchemist. Possibly the best to have ever been born in generations. Her state alchemist certificate was enough proof of her ability, but even other alchemists saw her as someone to aspire to. She had invented dozens of new alchemy techniques and theories in the thirty years of her life, and they had helped their country's alchemy to progress at least five decades faster than expected.
Mama was most known for her research in biology transmutation, but it wasn't a secret that she was also a lethal goddess on the front lines. She had the strange ability to 'sense souls' and do long distance transmutations. Her transmutations also sparked light green in the distinct shape of angel wings; a signature of hers. It was quite a sight to behold, hence why people called her the Angel of Death, and why the Führer granted her the name Grigori.
But she knew Mama was even more amazing than she let on. She knew there were still hundreds of pages of Mama's unpublished and unfinished research scattered all around Amestris. She'd always had a hidden laboratory everywhere she'd traveled.
Oddly, despite her vast official publications of basic theories and common alchemy, Mama had never released anything about the secret of her own bizarre alchemy, which she called alkahestry, before her untimely death.
Of course, after Mama was gone, people started to hunt down the rest of her works like beggars searching a gold mine. The secrets of the Grigori Alchemist promised tremendous powers and unthinkable possibilities. It could be both a new light of hope for medical science as well as an ugly weapon of war.
Which was why it had to be her who gathered and deciphered her research. It was only her who knew both Mama's alchemy and alkahestry, and probably the only one who didn't want to take advantage of it.
"Sometimes I wonder if Mama sold her soul to Lucifer to make a code like this," she groaned to no one. The cat on her lap meowed as if answering her. "Oh, I'm sorry, Blair. I forgot as the queen of the underworld you only take crème as an offering, not souls," she snorted, refraining to roll her eyes. The feline let out a smug purr.
She must have gone mad if she thought she could understand a cat. But alchemy research tended to do that to people. Going mad, that is, not talking to a cat. That was mostly her.
She picked a new pen (the previous one was laying pitifully on the floor, snapped in half) and started scribbling again. There had to be a way. As Mama's only pupil, she must not forget about Mama's most important rule; it's never magic, human brains just can't understand it yet.
Maka Albarn was a carbon copy of her Mama. People had told her many times that looking at her was eerily similar to looking at Kamiko Albarn. Both their looks and alchemy were exactly alike. From their sandy hair and their round faces, to their ability to sense souls and the green angel wing sparks they made. Even their characters were alike. Both were fierce, headstrong and forces to be reckoned with. They were so similar to the point where the Führer granted them the same title when Maka got her certification.
But Maka Albarn was also not a carbon copy of her Mama. She was more like a cheap knockoff, she supposed. She was not as strong as Mama nor as unnervingly intelligent. Instead of being born a prodigy like Mama, Maka had to work and study ten times harder.
But she was more than happy to do that, because Mama was her world.
Truthfully, her main reason to apply for the State Alchemist Program was to dedicate herself to Mama's world. To make sure her lifetime of work was not buried for eternity, and, more importantly, to make sure it did not fall into the wrong hands and end up being weapons, if they ever did resurface. Because she wasn't naïve enough to believe that the military didn't want Mama's research for their own benefit, proven by how eager they were to encourage her deciphering Mama's research instead of starting her own.
And the rest of her reasons were definitely not to keep Papa from forgetting his former wife or to see him crawling with guilt every time he looked at her or heard her title. No.
"Maka-chan?"
Maka perked up at the creaking door. Her Xingese friend Tsubaki peeked from the crack, holding a tray of food and hot milk.
"You should rest and eat a little, Maka-chan. You won't hear the end of it from Myra if you catch something."
Maka smiled at the older woman. "I won't hear the end of it from you either, Tsubaki-chan."
Tsubaki Nakatsukasa was one of her closest childhood friends. Because the Nakatsukasas were the same ethnicity as her Mama, she was the next best thing Maka had to study the eastern language and customs from. They often spoke to each other in Xingnese, like they were now.
Tsubaki gave her a frown, lifting the food closer, and Maka responded with a defeated look before nibbling her toast without passion. Her other hand was busy keeping Blair from trying to steal her milk, as the cat could end up spilling it all over her notes, considering how energetic she was when playing with food. Maka was aware that she needed food, after all. As Auntie Myra often said, she couldn't live only by telling herself she could photosynthesize.
"Any progress with the project?" Tsubaki asked gently.
As an answer, Maka dropped her head on the table and whimpered, huffing a stray strand of hair from her face. Tsubaki couldn't help but chuckle in sympathy.
Sometimes it was just so hard living up to Mama's legacy. Getting her hands on the documents alone wasn't enough to unlock the knowledge. Coding their research was an unspoken rule for any alchemist, and Mama was never half-hearted with her codes. Sometimes it was draining, borderline frustrating, to even just decipher it, let alone to continue the research.
Maka had already collected and completed much of Mama's lost research ten times faster than any other alchemist who ever tried. People showered her with compliments, assuming she was just as much a genius as her Mama was; a prodigy. But no. She was no prodigy. She was just luckier because she had been taught alchemy directly by Mama.
It was never easy. There were many hours full of depression and self-loathing between those accomplishments. Like now.
She was just Maka Albarn, a normal human, not the Angel of Death.
Tsubaki set the tray down and curiously inspected the documents Maka was working on. To her, it appeared as a very engaging novel about the adventure of a woman's journey to the east.
"What is this one about?"
"Apparently it's about developing prosthetic limbs. I mean, true, flesh and bone prosthetic limbs," Maka murmured, "That, or an extremely detailed way of gutting a sturgeon."
Tsubaki's laugh rang in the room filled with dangerously too many books. "I don't think Black Star will be very delighted to hear about the prospect of fleshy prosthetic limbs."
Maka snorted at the thought of her other childhood friend, who happened to be Tsubaki's husband. He also happened to be one of the best automail engineers this side of the country. "Limbs are supposed to be made of flesh and bone. Black Star can go stuff his ass with molten steel."
Tsubaki made no reaction towards Maka's language, too used to her friend spewing out un-ladylike comments, which would undoubtedly be met with ruder insults by her sailor-mouthed husband.
"And I still can't figure out this key part of the code! I must have missed something! Or used the wrong combinations!" Maka ranted. While Tsubaki was not, in fact, an alchemist, she was a wonderful listener. "There's something vaguely familiar about this document but I don't know what it is! I already tried everything but something's just not adding up!"
Blair was hissing again from Maka's volume and uncontrolled flailing. She jumped from Maka's lap to Tsubaki's, who started to stroke her fur gently.
"Now, Maka-chan, I always told you that your weakness is that you tend to draw conclusions before seeing the whole picture. And that looking at it from different perspective also helps most of the time."
Tsubaki patted Maka's hair with a smile. For the nth time Maka thought about how wonderful a mother Tsubaki would be, glancing at the still flat belly of the one-month pregnant woman (they had just found out three days before and Maka feared she would go deaf from Black Star's triumphant hoots and yells at the news). She practically was her mother figure since Maka lost her Mama ten years ago. Or more accurately, older sister figure, because the three of them had basically been raised by Black Star's adoptive mother Myra and her husband Sid.
"Maybe you're right. I've locked myself in this room for so long, I don't even know what day it is."
Tsubaki perked at her words. "Then finish your meal. I think Black Star would be up for a little sparring match if you agreed to take a breather."
Maka smiled. "Great."
Kid scowled from behind the wheel again, glaring daggers at his Lieutenant in the passenger seat beside him.
"This is the third time this month, Liz! Third!"
His Lieutenant ignored him to sulk. The cause of their argument was in the backseat; a broken sniper rifle held by the Lieutenant's younger sister, who toyed with it as if she was in a very exciting shooting game.
"That's because you bought me a cheap one, Kid! I told you I wanted those babes from the North!"
"I was under the impression that you'd actually use it to shoot at your targets, Elizabeth! Not to bash their skulls!"
"With all due respect, Sir, I bashed their skulls under your command!" Liz sassed back, growling at her superior.
Kid sighed, "The least you could do was to break it symmetrically."
Their banter was swallowed by Liz's younger sister's voice, who apparently was very engrossed in her imagination and was starting to yell 'Pew! Pew!' while pointing the rifle at random people outside. The magazine was empty, yes, but it undoubtedly would cause a ruckus if she did it for much longer.
"Patricia, put it back!"
The younger girl pouted, "But Kiiiiid, you never let me play with the long ones!"
"That's because they're not toys, Patty! People will get freaked out if you point that thing at them. And your pair of Berettas are enough for you!"
The real reason Kid did not allow the childish Sergeant to use long ranged weapons was because she had the attention span of a Chihuahua, and tended to miss 80% of her targets above the 200-yard mark. Her short-ranged shots, however, were the best in the whole East Province. Her agility and shooting speed were unparalleled in a close-ranged gunfight.
On the contrary, her big sister Elizabeth was known for her absurdly long-ranged shots and deadly accuracy. She could clear a moving target in a 800-yard radius without problem, making her one of the most lethal sniper in Amestris.
Many envied him, because he was still in his mid-twenties, already a Colonel as well as an accomplished State Alchemist, and had the talented Thompson Sisters under his command.
"I might as well get you that northern rifle you wanted so much. I can't afford any more errors during a mission."
Liz immediately brightened, "For real?! Ah, Kid, I love you!" she attempted to attack him with a hug, the car's tires screeching dangerously as Kid tried to pry her off of him.
"Liz! Driving!"
She let him go, to his great relief, but she was still grinning madly, chanting some sort of war song about guns and rifles with her sister. Kid smiled inwardly. In the end, he could never deny them anything.
They stopped at Barrett's Automails, the most famous automail shop in Gallows Hill.
Sid Barrett, the owner of the shop, suddenly appeared from nowhere, smiling his face-splitting grin. "Colonel! What can I help you with?"
He had two secret errands, but the guns must definitely come first if he didn't want to deal with any mad Thompson sisters.
"Repairs. And some maintenance," Kid gave him the rifle bag.
Sid raised an eyebrow, "Again?"
The Colonel sighed, "You know how they are." And after a too enthusiastic nudge from Liz, he added, "And we might want to see your new things."
The owner grinned with a wink. "Got it, Sir."
Before they could go further to the shop, Patty chimed in, "Where's Maka?"
Sid gave a shrug, "Last I saw her, she had built a nest in her library. Again. But Tsubaki might've succeeded in coaxing her out of her lair to spar with Black Star."
"Okay!" Not waiting for a reply, Patty trotted happily out the back of the shop, where she knew there was a large field the owner's son was often sparring in.
"Don't wander too far!" Kid shouted at her back. Sometimes he felt like a father with two very mischievous daughters instead of a Colonel with his subordinates.
Sighing for heavens knew how many times that day, he followed behind Sid and Liz to the depths of the shop. They stopped at a seemingly normal hall before Sid pulled a specific book from the bookshelf. With a creak, an opening suddenly appeared in the once ordinary floor. Sid jerked his head as a sign for them to climb down.
The place they arrived to was enormous. Every surface of it was coated with all kinds of weapons and firearms of any range and deadliness. This was the other side of the Barret Shop the Colonel was more acquainted with.
"Go on, Liz!" he gestured, met by a cheer from the older Thompson.
As an alchemist, Kid rarely used guns. He himself was a weapon. He mostly visited Sid's other shop for Liz and Patty, or for arming his other chosen subordinates. Military issued guns wouldn't do for the majority of his plans, because every bullet was registered and recorded.
And that wouldn't be good for his personal agenda.
Maka drank her cold water with a grumble, watching Black Star spar with Patty. Sparring should be a recreational activity for her, but losing to Black Star three times in a row only irked her foul mood further.
"Miss Albarn." A calm but amused voice reached her ears.
Maka lifted her face, grinning at the two people who walked towards her from the direction of the shop, and answered with the same playful tone. "Colonel Morton, Sir."
"I thought it was you Black Star was supposed to be sparring with?"
The aforementioned automail engineer was yelling a greeting to him between punches and kicks. The Colonel replied with a small wave. Black Star's attention quickly turned back to Patty when she managed to land a rough blow to his left shoulder. Meanwhile, Maka was crushed into a suffocating hug by Patty's older sister before she could manage an unamused "eh…" at the Colonel.
Liz chuckled at her tone, "Cheer up, Maka, you'll rust all the automails with your sour look." Maka smiled slightly at her teasing. "Stuck again?"
She grimaced. She was happy all of her friends were so caring, from Tsubaki with her motherly hovering, Black Star with his loud and obnoxious way of expressing his concern, to Kid and his subordinate's will to drive a hundred miles just to check on her at least once a week.
But every time they asked about her progress, a cold sensation filled her chest as her brain began its self-loathing routine, again consumed by thoughts of not living up to Mama's legacy. The feeling always worsened when she saw their sympathetic smiles.
"Then maybe you could use my help?" Kid smiled, "I'm supposed to monitor your progress, after all."
Both Maka and Liz stared at him like he just proposed he'd quit being alchemist and take ballet lessons instead. Maka Albarn had a stubborn policy of never asking anyone for help, and Kristopher Ignatius Damian Morton had a strange policy of never letting himself in on other people's research.
People said he had too much of a holier-than-thou aura and was too arrogant to work with others, but Maka knew it was just that he already completed six projects and had another two he was still working on. He just didn't want to raise the count, because eight was a perfect number and his obsessive compulsive tendencies would definitely force him to stick to a research topic which he would definitely end up being the official contributor to.
"Are you seriously Kid Morton?" Maka said, holding herself from snorting.
Liz was not as successful in hiding her laugh, "What happened to the eight projects policy?"
Maka saw Kid's eye twitch; his general response when he was thinking about something but didn't want to voice it out. "Is it wrong to help a friend in need? And besides, I'm just gonna give her some input, not officially assist her."
"Are you really serious?" Maka asked again, still incredulous.
"Yes, why?"
"If you end up too invested in this, I am not dragging you out," Liz warned.
Maka mulled on her choice to take the help. Kid was one of the most brilliant alchemists she knew. He could undoubtedly give invaluable input to her project, considering that he was also one of the very few alchemists who Mama trusted enough to allow a peek at her alkahestry.
And her progress had been halted. Completely. For months.
On the other hand, Maka never let anyone in on her projects, let alone an alchemist. The curious and greedy nature of humans often blinded them, and the things Maka was working on were the goldmine equivalent of knowledge and power.
But Kid had always been an exception. He was the only male she never had problems receiving help from, and she knew he would never use Mama's research to his own advantage. Even though she knew he had plans.
So she smiled back, ignoring Black Star's yells that she ran from their fights, and led them to her stuffy library. Liz trailed behind them, obviously not because she also wanted to—or could—help, but because she knew Albarn family's library had a corner full of fashion magazines (which Maka suspected were once possessions of Papa's incalculably lady friends) and another corner full of books on guns and weapons, courtesy of her Papa and Sid Barrett.
"So this is the part that always throws me into an endless loop," Maka pointed at a page in her notes, "I even tried to use both Helmont Theory and Flamel's Fifth Law but nothing ever makes sense in the end."
Kid hummed. He reached for her notes and started scribbling nonsense onto a blank paper. Maka waited restlessly for his input, checking diagrams and circles for clues of where she went wrong.
Finally, after an hour or two, Kid spoke, "Maka?"
"Yeah?"
"Did you ever use alkahestry as a base to decipher any of Mrs. Kamiko's documents before?"
"No?" Maka raised her eyebrow, "Mama was strict about never recording alkahestry research into writing."
"I thought so," Kid slid his own notes closer, "Here. You can't see it unless you think of each diagram as a turning point. The 'dragon' here doesn't mean 'transmutation process', but rather 'path'. And if you look at it as a whole, the composition is nowhere near any of the common theories, but rather resembling yours and Mrs. Kamiko's unique alchemy, or as she named it, alkahestry."
"Let me see!"
Maka's chair screeched when she hastily took the paper and eagerly read the notes. She noted that Kid's writing was so neat and organized compared to hers, making it really easy to understand. She nearly slapped herself for how stupid she had been. She was the only alchemist who had studied under Mama's guidance. The only alkahestrist alive, she dare say. How could she have never spot all these too familiar symbols?
Of course Tsubaki had been right. She tended to jump to conclusions before seeing the whole picture.
To think that the one working it out was another alchemist who'd never actually studied alkahestry.
"Oh my god… you're right…" she heard herself whispering, "It fits."
"So maybe we should try this again from the top using alkahestry? Even if I'm not so sure I could be of more help."
Maka waved him off, "Nonsense, Kid, if anyone could have any understanding of what I'm working on, it would be you! And I always appreciate your opinion!"
At that, Kid smiled genuinely.
They both worked until the sky turned red. They didn't even realize Patty had joined her sister and was reading Maka's old picture books aloud.
"It's done." Maka exhaled in a mix of triumph and exhaustion.
"This is clearly not what I think it was before," Kid said.
The completed document they had deciphered was neither research on prosthetic limbs nor a guide for gutting a sturgeon. It wasn't even an alchemy research.
It was a map.
"Wow, neat!" Liz suddenly jumped in. "Where do you think this leads to?"
"What I wanna know is why she'd take the trouble to double-code a map, and with alkahestry. I take it she never did that before?" Kid said.
Maka nodded in silence. Yes. Mama's documents always used common theories and standard laws. Any alchemist could decipher the code if they tried hard enough. But this document was different. Mama downright used the principles of alkahestry as a base to the code.
An anomaly.
Maka was Mama's first and last student, and the only alchemist alive who could use alkahestry. It was as if Mama purposely coded this particular document for Maka to decipher.
What for?
"The directions of the dragon path lead us here," Maka circled the town of Clamstein on the scribbled map, "From here, then to this town, here, here, and here. It's all pointing to this general area." Maka's pencil stopped in the middle of no man's land on the east side of Amestris.
"But that's the desert!" Liz said, raising her well-groomed eyebrow.
"No. That's not just the desert," Kid chided, hand on his chin. "There's a legend that in the middle of the sand sea, there are ruins of Xerxes, the ancient kingdom where it is said alchemy was first discovered. It's also said that all people of the kingdom, from the king to the littlest slave, disappeared within a night. Not a single soul remained."
"And that's why people now call it Death City," Maka finished absently, still wondering why Mama seemed to guide her to a giant ancient cemetery.
"D-d-d-death city?" Liz screeched. Ah, yes. Maka almost forgot the elder Thompson's aversion to the supernatural.
"I must go there," Maka heard herself say. "By myself."
"But Maka, it's in the middle of the desert! At least let us accompany you!" Kid protested.
"T-to the Death City? Are you crazy?" Liz hissed behind him and Patty chose that moment to jump into the discussion, chanting 'I wanna go too!' beside her sister. No one paid them any attention.
Somehow, Maka had already steeled her resolve. The map was obviously for her, and deep within her heart, she knew Mama wanted her to go by herself.
"No, Kid. You three have a duty to the military. Someone is bound to notice if you go with me," she reasoned. "And besides, like you said, it was the first time Mama ever used alkahestry as a code. I think it's her way of saying it has to be me."
Kid appeared lost in his thoughts, a frown carved deeply in his handsome face.
"I will be okay, Kid. You know I can take care of myself," she insisted.
Finally, Kid let out a heavy breath, "Fine. But if there's no news of you in four days, we'll follow you there!"
Maka beamed, already planning what to pack for the trip.
"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?"
Tsubaki was sitting on Maka's bed, watching her pack things into a medium-sized bag while singing off-key. The younger girl practically glowed after Kid's visit the day before, saying that she had a very promising clue on her current project.
Maka replied with a shake of her head, beaming, "You're a mother now, Tsubaki-chan. I can't drag you along like I used to."
Tsubaki grimaced. The thing about marrying and having a baby was that she couldn't follow Maka as closely anymore.
She had always accompanied Maka to whatever weird places all over the country her mission to collect all of Mrs. Kamiko's research took her; an old oath she made to her brother. But things had changed. Mrs. Kamiko was gone. Her brother was gone. There was no one who would demand for her to continue her old duty, and as Mr. Spirit had said to her on the day Black Star proposed, Maka could take care of herself splendidly, and she didn't have to follow Maka's every step anymore. She deserved to chase her own happiness and start her own life.
She knew Maka would say the exact same words if presented with the truth. Both Maka and Mrs. Kamiko would. They were kind-hearted like that.
"Where do you wanna go this time?" She spoke with the most casual tone she could muster, trying to distract herself from her thoughts.
Maka hummed, "Well, I don't know for sure, but the first stop will be the ruins of Xerxes."
What?!
"What?!"
"You heard me," Maka actually giggled, "Death City! Isn't that exciting?"
"B-but Maka-chan, isn't it like in the middle of the desert?!"
Tsubaki expected epic journeys to a weird part of the country, yes, but not this.
Before Maka could answer, however, the door slammed open revealing a very distraught Spirit Albarn panting heavily inside. "Darling, no! You can't go!"
In an instant, Maka's expression turned sour. "I can go wherever I want, Papa!"
"But, dear, the desert! It's dangerous! The sun will burn you! And—and there's so many unfriendly things out there!"
"Are you seriously saying that with a straight face, after all this time?" Maka spat, "And news flash, I'm a State Alchemist, Papa. I think I can handle a few unfriendly things."
Tsubaki could hear Mr. Spirit's flinch. She knew Mr. Spirit did a poor job at parenting by leaving Maka in the Barrett family's care and choosing his ladies' company instead. The most parental thing he'd done was to pop up once in a while, annoying her and gushing all over her as if she was five. But Tsubaki also knew he never wholly approved of Maka being an alchemist, let alone entering the State Alchemist program. Unfortunately for him, there was no one more stubborn than Maka Albarn with a goal set before her.
"You don't have to do this… This wasn't what Mama wanted you to do, darling… She would never—"
Now it was Tsubaki's turn to flinch. Mr. Spirit had pushed the wrong button.
"Well, maybe I could hear it directly from her if you didn't make her leave with all your disgusting affairs!" Maka thundered, "Maybe she'd still be here! Alive! Keeping me home instead of wandering all over the country to scratch the dirt for her mementos!" With that, she snatched her bag and stormed out of the room with a sniffle.
"Maka-chan! Maka-chan, wait!"
Tsubaki wanted to go after her, but was held by the elder Albarn. Her protest died in her throat when she saw the eyes of a broken-hearted man.
Maka wiped her eyes yet again.
She had managed to not shed any tears during the train trip. But now, being alone at the edge of the world, where the green grass met the sparkly sand, she could finally let her tears spill.
The atmosphere was perfect for angsting. There was comforting silence all around her, broken only by the sound of her horse's hooves. She somehow felt like a terrible burden she hadn't known she'd been shouldering was lifted from her shoulders, replaced by the gentle but painful memory of her Mama. She felt airy. Light. And everything around her was surreal. The memory of Mama made the dragon paths under the sand flowing more solidly, as if the earthen river of energy also wanted to help her reliving Mama's gentle words in her alkahestry lessons.
The moon was hanging high in the starry sky, a blissfully cool breeze in place of the blazing sun expected from a desert. Orion was still bright near the eastern horizon, guiding her straight to the Death City. It was oddly calming and sad to see the Milky Way flowing above her head. Mama had taught her astronomy as much as alchemy, since stargazing was one of Mama's hobbies. She smiled wearily to the moon. Going alone hadn't been such a bad idea, after all.
Actually, she was not that alone. There were suspicious meows coming from her bag. With a frown, she unzipped the bag and a tiny head full of black fur popped out.
"Blair?! What are you doing here?!"
Apparently she had been too distracted by her thoughts and the dragon path to feel the animal soul inside her bag. The cat must have jumped into it when she was yelling at her Papa.
This was a pleasant and calming surprise, however, to know she was not entirely alone. She snuggled Blair closer to her heart as the cat purred contentedly.
"When the heat comes, I am not hearing any of your complaints."
The desert was so fucking hot.
Okay, that was obvious, but still, it wouldn't stop her from trying to pick a fight with the sun. If only that dumb celestial body would get down here so she could punch it, the coward.
Blair seemed to agree with her, growling at the source of the heat from inside her bag. She was luckier than Maka, because Maka didn't have anything to shade herself beside the hood of her coat.
She could already see the ruins, but didn't have the heart to urge her horse faster. The poor animal was probably feeling fifty times as bad as her. Besides, they had to conserve their energy.
But as Mama often said, miracles tend to happen to those who least expect it. All of a sudden, the ruins got rapidly bigger and nearer. And within half of an hour, her horse stepped onto Death City's outermost stone.
The ruins were unspeakably amazing. There were tons of stories carved silently on every piece of rubble and wrecked wall. The architecture spoke of a very advanced civilization. Well, she'd only find out about it later, because she didn't waste any time to sightsee. Her first priority was to find something she could transmute into water. It wasn't an easy task, however, because the city was, of course, dead.
Before the last ounce of her energy left her, a miracle presented itself in the form of a large ancient stone fountain full of fresh water. Wasting no time, she got off her horse and sprinted to it with newfound strength, drinking the water greedily.
Forget the Philosopher's Stone, water was the most phenomenal and powerful substance on the planet.
Blair outright jumped in the water, swimming happily. Not even her horse waited for permission to dunk his head in the fountain. Luckily for her she remembered to refill all of her bottles before they polluted the water.
She then joined her companions to soak. Best decision ever. It was blissful.
At some point she could feel Blair walking away. The ever curious cat might be exploring the area, searching for something amusing to entertain herself. Maka wasn't worried. She could just tap her soul perception open and find the creature with ease any time she wanted.
But now, bath first.
The sky was starting to transition to purple when she got fully dressed again. She was absently thinking about searching for Blair when she felt a cold edge of a blade tickling her neck.
Perfect timing, Mr. Blade Holder, just as she was about to activate her perception.
Well, who could blame her for not keeping her radar up at all time? She was so tired and this was Death City. No one was supposed to live here.
Apparently she had been wrong.
But one thing she was certain of, whatever Mama had left for her, it definitely wasn't this.
"Who are you?"
The voice was deep and rich, definitely a man's, with a harsh edge and a rasp as if it had not been used for a long time.
If she could just distract this guy for a second, she might get a chance to escape. The downside of bathing was that she tended to peel off her transmutation gloves first and slip them on again last, so now she couldn't immediately do anything to cause a distraction without having her throat cut first.
Of course, miracles tend to happen to those who least expect it. A blob of black bolted from somewhere and perched on a broken pillar beside them, hissing. Both the guy and Maka involuntarily whipped their heads to that direction, but Maka had been quicker to respond.
In a swift fluid motion, Maka ducked under the guy's blade and jumped forward, creating a nice three-meter distance between them. She turned in an instant, both gloves already on her hands. The hissing black blob dashed to her and growled beside her foot. Now that her radar was fully in combat mode, she could sense it was Blair.
However, Blair couldn't keep her attention for long. Her assailant was far more intriguing.
One, the man in front of her had a white mess of hair that stuck in all directions, a tan complexion and a pair of piercing deep red eyes; absolutely an Ishvalan. About her age, give or take a few years.
Two, he strangely was as shocked as she was.
Three, the blade that had been pushing on her neck a few moments before wasn't any common blade. It was wide, with an ominous color of red and black, but the most impossible thing about it was that it was attached to the boy's right arm. It was definitely not automail, because there was no clear line between flesh and steel. Instead, where arm became blade, there was a texture of alchemical transmutation.
And four, she had to double-check on her Soul Perception because he had two souls.
She didn't have the time to think any further before the guy started to speak with shock and uncertainty in his voice, "Mrs… Kamiko?"
Maka's eyes widened, "You know my Mama?"
They certainly enjoyed outshocking each other, apparently. It was the Ishvalan guy's turn to be taken aback. He tentatively dropped his fighting stance and lowered his blade arm. "You're not her?"
"I just said she was my Mama," Maka replied with a flat tone, warily lowering her own hand.
"Oh." His walls seemed to crumble all of a sudden, his eyes leaving her face as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. The absence of his previous guardedness made a shocking change in him. He was no longer fierce now that he had stopped snarling with those unnervingly sharp teeth. Suddenly he looked awkward and introverted.
With a spark of green light, his right arm turned into bone and flesh, to Maka's eternal surprise. The boy himself didn't seem affected at all, as if the thing he just did was as trivial as zipping up his jacket or lowering his hood.
His aggression had been replaced with wariness and silence. He kept stealing glances at Maka as if unsure what to say or do, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and shifting his weight every other second. Maka wondered if he didn't know how to handle normal communication. Fortunately for him, she decided to take the first move.
"Who are you? And how did you know my Mama?"
He stole one more glance before mumbling, "…Soul."
Maka unconsciously took a step towards him. "Sorry?"
"Uh, my name," he said, still in that raspy, tentative voice, "It's… Soul."
"Okay. Soul." Maka nodded, and she might be imagining that his eyes lit up when she said his name. "Who are you and how did you know my Mama?"
Instead of answering her question, the boy, Soul, gave her a very strange look. "So you're… Maka?"
Maka's eyes widened yet again. This guy really liked to surprise her, it seemed. "Wha—how do you know my name? Who are you?!" As it tended to do when confused or surprised, her voice raised to a yell.
Soul's posture stiffened and his expression became uncomfortable. The guarded look he wore before appeared once more. He held her eyes as his voice dropped, "I was one of your mother's test subjects."
She couldn't help the shout, "What?!"
It was a boring day, like every other day, when he lazily napped beside Wes's grave.
The grave was located in the heart of the oasis, beneath an old tree, in a place that might have been some kind of park when the city was still civilized. Hard to think he was in the middle of a desert when he napped there.
The first stars and constellations already presented themselves in the rapidly darkening sky. It reminded him of how much the brothers used to stargaze. He thought of how they earned their names as Canis Major, which Wes had gotten his name from, was starting to appear.
His peace was only interrupted by occasional snide remarks from the Little Demon inside his brain. He ignored the Demon quite easily, having mastered The Art of Not Giving a Fuck since he was sixteen.
Since Wes had died.
He rolled onto his stomach, peeking at the marble gravestone with 'Wezen' carved roughly on it. It was a peaceful dusk with nothing particularly interesting about it. This was when he missed Wes the most. His big brother had the uncanny ability to piss him off while somehow entertaining him at the same time.
But miracles tend to happen to those who least expect it. It was then a bolt of black suddenly jumped into a faraway bush. He jolted upright in an instant, arm transmuting into a blade. Having lived in these ruins without any human contact whatsoever had heightened all of his senses. His ears twitched as he listened intently, eyes focused on the bush, anticipating movement. Then, the last thing he was expecting leapt out of the foliage.
It was a cat.
He scowled as his blade transmuted back to flesh. Damn cat. Wes would certainly be laughing his ass off inside his grave if he knew his grumpy baby brother had been startled by a cat. The creature yawned cutely, not a bit bothered by the glare directed at it.
But then he started to realize. He had lived in this place for years and could recite the name of every animal in there and even tell how many each species was. There were definitely no black cats. This cat had somehow managed to find its way to the ruins in the middle of a desert by itself.
Was it really by itself?
Pursing his lips, he started to finecomb the dead city. He had an uncomfortable gut feeling he was no longer alone.
His heightened senses pulled him west. So they were from Amestris, huh? Not a very happy thought, because Amestris was what had caused him and his brother to be left alone in this god forsaken place to begin with. But it could be a happy thought, he supposed, because if the intruder happened to be a military soldier, things would get interesting.
There they were. In the west hall fountain. His right hand transmuting before he even thought about it; in the next second, it was already on the intruder's throat.
"Who are you?"
His captive didn't give an answer. Before he could interrogate them further, the corner of his eye caught the former bolt of black fur, momentarily distracting him. The person his blade had been confining suddenly ducked, escaped his grasp, and dashed forward with impressive fluidity.
When the intruder turned back to him, however, there were things far more intriguing about them.
One, she was a girl. A very tiny girl with very precise combat movement.
Two, she appeared just as shocked as he was.
Three, she had a very familiar face. A face that brought back all the years of suffering, warm motherly hugs, starry night skies, pain in his chest, and Wes's affectionate voice. But there were too many unfamiliar things about her for her to be the one he thought she was. Her eyes were green, not inky black, for one. And the person he was thinking about definitely wouldn't have gotten younger in the past twelve years.
But still, he had seen many weird things, so there was no harm in making sure, "Mrs… Kamiko?"
The girl's eyes widened in shock at the name. "You know my Mama?"
What?
"You're not her?"
"I just said she was my Mama."
He let out a little 'oh' as his blade transmuted back, eyes shifting away from the girl's face.
The girl. Whom he mostly knew who she was.
His mind flew to Mrs. Kamiko's words as she took him and Wes to the top of the lab's tower.
"I think you two would be great friends with my Maka."
She was the little faceless girl. Weird to finally put a face on a name he'd only heard of for so long.
"Who are you? And how did you know my Mama?"
The girl's—Maka's—voice jolted him out of his reminiscence. His brain suddenly blanked at what to do or say. His social skills seemed to have crumbled fantastically over the years. Well, not that he was a very social person to begin with.
Avoiding the other question, he replied with the nickname Wes gave him instead. "…Soul."
"Sorry?"
Of course. The word didn't exactly sound like a name. Stupid Wes.
"Uh, my name. It's… Soul."
It felt weird even on his own tongue. Yeah, he supposed five years without hearing their own name would do that to people.
"Okay, Soul," the girl—Maka—nodded, saying his name firmly. He kinda liked how it sounded in her voice. "Who are you and how did you know my Mama?"
Again, he dodged the question, "So, you're… Maka?"
Oh, saying her name felt nicer than hearing his own, actually.
"Wha—how do you know my name? Who are you?!" Maka replied with a guarded shout. Woah, she was as fierce as her mother, if not more.
His past life was flashing before his eyes, bringing back in surprising accuracy, Mrs. Kamiko's strict instructions to forget everything, to keep what happened a secret and just hide. So, because he was a very wise person with splendid decision-making skills, he chose to tell the truth.
"I was one of your mother's test subjects."
Predictably, Maka's eyes went wider as she shrieked, "What?!"
Inside his brain, the Little Demon retorted, 'Yeah, Soul, What?'
"What's your game, Kid?"
Liz Thompson stared at her superior with a serious look. The Colonel was calmly sipping his beloved tea instead of completing his assignments.
"What are you talking about?"
"Cut the bullshit! I didn't say anything back on Gallows Hill, but that doesn't mean I don't know!" Liz fumed, slamming her hands on Kid's desk. Luckily there was no one in the office to witness their argument. "You conveniently helped Maka with deciphering her codes despite never as much as peeking at other alchemists' research before, and then you sent her to that dreadful place without any back-up! You didn't fight against her decision hard enough! Hell, you don't even look worried about her right now!"
Liz couldn't help her outrage. Maka was one of her very few female friends and she always had this huge protective instinct towards her, much like what she felt for Patty. She was an older sister for a reason, dammit. How Kid could calmly drink his stupid hot leaf juice while Maka was probably suffering from dehydration in the middle of satan's armpit was beyond her.
"Relax, Elizabeth."
Liz hissed, "Don't 'Elizabeth' me! Answer my question!"
Kid set down his cup and said, "It was necessary."
"For what?!"
He lifted his face and looked right into her eyes. Liz hated herself for noticing how his golden irises seemed to glow beautifully in the evening light. She knew Kid would never use his stupid pretty eyes to charm her on purpose, and it was entirely her own fault for finding them so mesmerizing, but that didn't mean she could let herself to be captivated! She was supposed to be angry, goddammit! This was a serious problem!
"For my plan," he answered in a low voice, interrupting her inner turmoil. "I found out that my enemy might have some connections to Mrs. Kamiko's experiments. Finding her other documents might lead me closer to them. And there's no alchemist who could do this more efficiently than Maka. But you have to believe me, Elizabeth, that I would never want to cause Maka any harm. You know I see her as my own sister. You also know she would go through the desert without problem, she was no idiot. And I was being honest when I said we'll follow her there if she doesn't report to us immediately."
Liz's anger drained slightly at his answer, but she still refused to drop her sour look. She sulkily looked away and chose to correct one of his statements, "Our enemy," she grumbled, "They're mine and Patty's enemy too."
Kid smiled at her words, "Thank you."
"But I still blame you for sending Maka alone! Your reasons don't make it entirely okay!" she shouted but felt heat rising to her cheeks, entirely blaming Kid's dumb smile. "Besides, what would Mr. Stein say? I certainly won't help you if he finds out."
The thought of his and Maka's alchemy teacher seemed to crumble Kid's walls, indicated by how the teacup he was holding rattled dangerously on its plate and how beads of cold sweat started forming on his pretty face.
"He… He would kill me…" Kid whimpered pitifully to his desk, traces of the pretty boy from previously having vanished, and been replaced by a very distraught-looking ball of anxiety. "He probably will dissect me and make me more asymmetrical than ever! And I can't even blame him for that! I'm trash… A disgrace! An abomination!"
Liz sighed, at least the atmosphere was back to normal.
A couple hundred miles from the Eastern Headquarters where Colonel Morton wailed to his Lieutenant, Maka Albarn was shrieking at a certain Ishvalan boy.
"What?!"
When her brain had fully processed his previous words, Maka started trembling with anger. How dare he! The cruel idea of Mama using humans as test subjects! Unbelievable! Who did he think he was? What right had he to accuse her Mama of that horrible act?
Maka stewed in her ill thoughts of the Ishvalan boy, conveniently ignoring the fact that he had obviously recognized Mama's likeness on her face and knew her by name. Kamiko Albarn was an honorable woman with a respectable career and a noble personality, and Maka would die to defend that statement. Her left hand was back at fighting stance, while her right one was subtly reaching for one of her specially carved pins to prepare a long distance transmutation.
She would have been more intimidating if her stomach hadn't chosen that particular time to rumble, and the fact that it echoed very loudly in that empty place made it even worse.
Blair meowed.
Maka fought the urge to glare at her cat. The boy—Soul—coughed to disguise his snort. She wasn't as successful at stopping her hostility, nor it being replaced by the need to find a hole and bury herself, however. But she was Maka Albarn, and Maka Albarn wouldn't let go of her anger just because of an empty stomach or an alarming amount of embarrassment, so she was back to her sneering. She pretended the previous incident had never happened. She dearly hoped the Ishvalan boy would do the same.
Unbeknownst to her, her antics had helped the boy to clear his own thoughts. He hid a grin and offered awkwardly, "Uh… I can offer you a meal?" The end of his sentence climbed up a bit, shaping it into a question.
Maka cursed her back-stabbing stomach and mulled her options. Her traitorous belly complained again. She sighed inwardly; she knew anger always got the best of her when she was hungry. Fortunately, the rational part of her brain made an appearance by proposing the thought that she might get the boy's full story and then she could judge him in peace afterwards. She could think better when she was full anyway, and if the boy tried to do anything funny, her transmutation gloves were ready to strike anytime. So, after grumbling at her own stomach, she nodded begrudgingly, and the boy—Soul—answered with a tentative gesture to follow him.
She hoped her perception was right when she felt no ill-intent from the strange Ishvalan boy.
Soul found out that the girl—Maka—was easily distracted once she felt relatively safe. He saw her curiously staring at everything, from the rubble of a broken altar, an ancient dragon statue, to a piece of a rusty iron bar on a window. She even forgot to keep being hostile at him a few times. She was as eager to learn everything as her mother, it seemed, even though Mrs. Kamiko was far better at hiding her curiosity. He would hear her gasp and she would blush furiously for letting herself be so captivated by a carving or relief; then she would continue her death-glaring. But her excitement visibly got bigger as they strolled through the heart of the oasis.
He led Maka to his home. Well, sort of home. The place was just the most decent part of a broken building at the east side of the oasis. It might have looked a little homier when Wes had been alive, but Soul didn't really pay that much attention to decoration and couldn't bring himself to care as long as he had a nice roofed spot to sleep and put his pitifully few belongings in.
Maka's horse wandered over the grassland beside the building, munching contentedly. The cat, however, was purring on Maka's chest, refusing to let go of her human's warmth.
"Make yourself at home. I'll just—go get the food." He gestured at a horizontally fallen square pillar in front of his room; the one he often used as some sort of bench.
Maka was so enchanted by the remnants of the building they were in, which Wes had said was supposed to be an ancient temple of a sort, but as always, she shot him that dark look when she remembered her own supposed anger, even though Soul wasn't so sure about the cause of it.
Soul started the fire, feeling Maka's eyes glaring holes on his back. He quickly heated up some smoked rabbit meat. Living in the desert meant the meat he hunted would go bad very quickly if not preserved properly. He begrudgingly thanked no one that among those hideous experiments he and his brother had endured, they actually gave them a harsh training on survival.
Their meal was silent and awkward, neither of them knew how to hold a proper conversation without including the previous topic, and ended up ruining their appetite.
But finally, after a long while of glaring at her clean plate, Maka spoke, "What did you mean when you said you were Mama's test subject?"
Soul's fifth piece of meat froze midway to his mouth. He gulped, setting down his plate, and glanced away uncomfortably. Why did he say that when he knew it'd come to this? Mrs. Kamiko had strictly forbid them to tell anyone, for god's sake!
'Well, she's her daughter so who cares?'
'Yes, thank you,' Soul inwardly replied. How he managed to lace his inner voice with a humongous amount of sarcasm was a feat in itself.
He knew his Demon made him tend to break rules and ignore orders, but he had gotten much better at controlling it; or so he thought. His previous slip still caught him by surprise. He was confused by the overwhelming urge to tell this girl everything despite being aware of his complicated relationship with speaking. Not to mention this particular topic was definitely not his favorite thing to discuss.
He knew he shouldn't. He had already ruined everything by blabbing his secret the moment she asked him.
'Yeah, yeah, no use regretting it now.'
Soul mentally growled at the Demon, but he was right.
His promise to Mrs. Kamiko had been broken.
And he couldn't find in him any guilt.
'Just say it.'
Maybe it was just the tiny bit of jealousy he still felt at the little faceless girl, the irrational need to prove that he also had some kind of bond with Mrs. Kamiko.
Or maybe it was just her. He supposed his lonely heart was slowly aching for any human interaction. Also, looking at Maka was eerily similar to looking at Mrs. Kamiko. Their painfully similar personalities made talking to her feel like talking to her mother.
He never realized that he missed her as much as he missed Wes.
"Soul?"
Well, the water had been spilled, might as well get drenched.
He cleared his throat, absently rubbing the back of his neck, "Well… uh, where do I begin?"
"How about you tell me exactly what kind of research you were supposed to be a 'subject' of?" she said viciously, emphasizing that one word. Clearly she still didn't believe him.
"That is… complicated." His adam's apple bobbed as he gulped again. "Honestly I don't really understand half of it."
Maka huffed, "Then tell me the half which you understand."
Soul fought a scowl. Demanding and impatient, just like her mother.
"Your 'Mama' was the head alchemist in the military's Black Blood project. Basically, the Human Weapon experiment," he dropped the bomb flatly.
The girl choked, "The human what?!"
"Human Weapon. Y'know, injecting weird things into a human body and modifying it to be able to shift into a weapon?" he replied to her disbelieving look. Soul sighed. Maybe it was easier to show rather than tell. He wasn't as good as Wes when it came to words.
He raised his right arm in front of her face. Green lights sparked and the sound of transmutation echoed as his flesh turned into steel.
Maka gasped at a very metallic arm in front of her.
She had seen it once, yes, but it didn't prevent the shock from freezing her. Other things like inhumane research and illegal activities scattered from her mind and were immediately replaced by the sheer impossibility of Soul's transmutation.
"What did you just do?!"
"Demonstrating the Human Weapon thing."
Yeah, asshole, she knew that, but that wasn't her question.
"That was just impossible!"
He didn't make any motion nor drew any circle. She considered the possibility that he might be using a Philosopher's Stone, but the sparks he made were light green, almost like hers, not red like what the Stone would produce. And there were so many things about it that would downright hurl alchemy's most important law of equivalent exchange out of the window.
"You didn't do any movements or draw any circles!" she continued her protests, "And it's all wrong! The masses and volumes are clearly not adding up and even if the human body contains some amount of iron it would never be enough to make a blade! You can't just go poof and conjure things from thin air like magic! Not to mention—"
Soul's sudden laugh cut her off mid-rant, blade-arm transmuted back to flesh. She stared at him dumbly, unwillingly noticing how his entire façade seemed to soften considerably with delight. Again, his mood shift made a shocking change in him.
Angry at herself for noticing dumb things about the boy she was supposed to be interrogating, she raised her voice in defense, "What's so funny?!"
He cackled a few times more before he managed to reply. "Sorry." He ran his fingers through his hair, making it even messier. "But no, it's not magic. Human brains just can't understand it yet."
Maka's heart flipped backwards.
"Wh-where did you hear that phrase?"
That effectively shut him up and his previous guardedness was back.
He was a very weird guy. Maka didn't understand. Why did he keep steering the conversation into these things if it made him uncomfortable? And why did he look more anxious every time she asked if he had already implied he would answer her questions? Did he want to tell or keep it to himself? She scowled, hoping that he would make up his mind already. If not, then her transmutation circles were pleased to say they were ready to take the violent route.
But Soul finally decided to open up, apparently. Good for him. He let out a heavy breath as if readying himself. "Mrs. Kamiko often said that."
Maka, in turn, held her breath as Soul continued, "I met her when I was—seven? Eight? Well, around that time. We had already been held in that place for several years, trained to be soldiers."
"We?"
"My brother and I. And… countless other children. Ishvalan, mostly."
"Ah," Maka whispered darkly.
"We served as the lab's experiment subjects when we were not in training. Sometimes they—they just took our blood or something. But sometimes it was—" Soul paused, hands balling into fists, "It was a death call. Many kids got called and we'd never see them again."
Maka gulped. She was a State Alchemist. A 'Dog of the Military'. Corruption inside the military wasn't a strange concept to her. She knew the Ishval Civil War was a huge sinning ground, the cursed land of war crimes. But she had never heard of it being a mine of illegal experiments, where they took children and treated them like lab animals.
She shuddered. Honestly the chance of it being real was pretty high.
"Mrs. Kamiko was the new head of the project at the time. She led the other alchemists in cutting the children open and turning them into walking weapons. None of them survived besides me and my brother, of course. Mrs. Kamiko told us herself that Human Transmutation was just impossible. Well, it's possible, theoretically, but the cost is always just too big. I still don't know what—or who—she sacrificed to make us."
She held her own hands to keep her actions in control. Even though Soul had said offensive and irrational things about Mama, she had to remind herself that she was hearing his side of the story. She had to hear everything before judging. But there was just too much to stomach.
"But when the experiment finally succeeded, she freed me and my brother, hid us when the military started searching for us, and finally said that we should go and hide out here to prevent other alchemists or the military from finding us."
"Why… did she do that?"
"You tell me," Soul leaned back on a cracked wall behind him, staring up at the stars through where the building's roof must have been forever ago. "She was a walking contradiction."
Maka pursed her lips, glaring at Soul's totally fleshy right arm. The things he said were strange, like an incomplete backstory with lots of plot holes. An alchemist wouldn't just free the result of their experiments, whether it was successful or not. More unlikely if it was a project assigned by the military. But it was too realistic to be a lie either. The illegal activities, even with how horrifying they sounded, were possible. Not to mention Soul had actually recognized her likeness to Mama and knew one of her infamous mottos (or, alternatively, had just said random things that coincidentally were an exact copy of what Mama used to say), indicating that he had met Mama in person.
No.
The irrational part of her brain, the one that loved Mama unconditionally and fiercely, started to deny everything.
Soul had never said that Mama was the one who personally did the human experiments, right? In fact, even if what he said about the experiments were true, there was a possibility he had fabricated the whole Mama-was-the-leader thing. He might just recognize Mama's face from a newspaper or something because of how famous she was. Him saying Mama's words was just a complete coincidence. Because Mama would never, ever, do something that immoral. No. Never.
"I don't believe you," she finally said, voice low and trembling. "Mama would never do anything like that."
Soul smiled. With just the light from the cackling fire in front of them, his smile looked kind of sad. "She was the one who personally transmuted me, Maka."
In an instant, her hand was gripping the front of his shirt, yanking him forward, "You shut your mouth! My Mama would never do anything like that! Her alchemy meant to help people! To heal! Not to destroy! Or—or to make weapons! I will prove you wrong even if I have to dig all of her labs up myself!"
Yes, she would prove it. She would make sure there was not even a single scribble of filthy human transmutation in Mama's documents.
She refused to believe her tears were flowing, scared to acknowledge the hideous foreboding sense that she might find evidence of it, buried in Mama's lab somewhere.
Soul, to her surprise, did not counter. He was still wearing that same smile, quietly nodded and slowly released her grip.
"I know you will."
Taken aback by his calmness, she stood up and yanked her hand away from him, "Thanks for the meal, but I have to go."
She walked away in anger and confusion, missing the way Soul's eyes stared at her back with unreadable emotion.
Soul peeked from behind his lashes.
Maka's cat was napping on his belly again.
"Ugh, go back to your owner, cat!" he grumbled to the creature, but she just yawned and let out a purr.
Maka had spent the last three days inspecting the ruins, searching for any alchemical knowledge. He supposed there was plenty of it in the city, considering its reputation as the birthplace of alchemy. He wasn't sure, though. Wes was the one with the gift of alchemy, not him.
It was strangely amusing to see Maka run all over the ruins, documenting reliefs or alchemy circles. He would find himself searching for her and watching her work for hours, sitting on nearby rubble with her black cat on his side.
Hard for him to imagine the little faceless girl as Maka Albarn, even though he knew they were one and the same. Now that he had really met her, Mrs. Kamiko's words were starting to feel real.
"She's impossible to not adore, you will see when you meet her!"
Well, he was definitely not on the 'adore' level, nor did he feel he would ever come to that point, but he was indeed drawn to her.
All of his old jealousy felt rather silly now.
Little by little, he got used to her presence, being more like his usual cool self instead of the awkward boy he had been that first night. Despite her hostility, he wanted to talk to her again. But Soul was never the best when it came to chit chat, so he ended up throwing sarcastic comments at her and mildly teasing her occasionally. Maka completely ignored him, of course (except for when her face reddened or when she gripped her notes a little too hard, maybe), but he didn't mind. She was amazing when concentrating fully on her job.
Just like Mrs. Kamiko.
But this evening he was napping beside Wes's grave again, silently talking about the last couple days' events to his brother; about Maka. He actually enjoyed her presence, however sour her expression was. Listening at her grumbling or silently reacting to his words was interesting. A very good change in his boring life.
He stared at Wes's gravestone, guiltily thinking of the idea he'd had the day before.
"Wes, will you forgive me if I leave you?"
Maka stood, packing up her things, and looked around.
No Blair.
She buried her face in her palm frustratedly before tapping her perception open. In a second, she found her pet's soul in the heart of the oasis, next to a familiar double-soul.
Sighing, she picked up her bag and started walking towards the direction of her cat's soul. "Really, Blair? Again?"
That smart cat was always aggressive to strangers, but she had been unusually clingy to the Ishvalan boy. It seemed like she had taken quite a liking to him, always next to him when Maka looked over her shoulder to glare at the boy.
Maka knew that boy followed her everywhere, watching her grumbling over Xerxesian alchemy circles with that strange look on his face, occasionally spitting out sarcastic comments. She found out that the boy could be very annoying when he lost that awkwardness he had displayed the first night she had arrived. He was always absent when the sky turned red, however, taking Blair with him to god knows where.
But more than anything, she was shocked with herself for not finding the strength to truly hate the guy despite her vast willingness to do so. Part of the reason was because she still couldn't find any malice in his main soul. The other part was that she felt an odd enjoyment in his presence. Even with that bored look on his face or those rude teases he threw, she could feel that he was genuinely interested in what she was doing.
She ignored him, though, because she had far more important things to think about than a sarcastic jerk who spouted ridiculous nonsense about her Mama. She had to check every single thing to make sure she didn't miss anything Mama might have left for her. There was no doubt that Mama had hidden something big in the ancient rubble. Mama wouldn't have double-code the map if it hadn't been important.
But she had stayed in Death City for almost three days with no notable findings, and Kid would storm the desert along with his twin human guns if she stayed any longer. Well, not that she didn't have the time. She could always go back.
Blair was snuggling on Soul's stomach, happily purring. The boy himself was napping on the grass beside a marble stone. So this was where he went in the evenings, lazing around under a tree.
Now when she thought about it, he was always alone, despite saying that he fled here with his brother. Did he lie or—
Oh.
The marble was actually a gravestone.
"Hey…" Soul greeted, opening his eye and lazily sat up. Blair howled a protest for the disturbance. "Finished for the day?"
As usual, Maka ignored him and proceeded to scoop Blair to her chest, earning a sigh from the boy. When the corner of her eyes caught the name on the stone, she paused. Wezen. The name wasn't Ishvalan, but neither was 'Soul'.
However hard she tried to deny and ignore him, the ever curious part of her wanted to know more of his story.
How uncharacteristic of her.
"Was he your brother?"
"Huh?" Soul blinked, seemingly surprised because she actually talked to him after ignoring him for days. "Oh, uh, yeah. Wes."
Maybe it was because she had never bothered to properly see him before, but when she actually looked at the young Ishvalan man in broad daylight with his fingers slicking his bangs back, she could see his eyes were such an unusual shade of red, even for Ishvalan standard. The second he said his brother's name, those deep red eyes were clouded by a surprising amount of feeling.
Of loneliness.
Maka frowned to herself. Mama had always advised to be a decent human being first before being an alchemist. Even if she held a personal grudge towards this person, she shouldn't ignore that he was human. A person with feelings. She should know better about the pain of losing someone important. She had experienced it herself.
"I'm sorry…"
Again, he blinked disbelievingly at her, but then he broke into a weary grin, brushing off her condolences. "S'fine."
Maka suppressed her embarrassment by scowling and hugged Blair closer. "Well, I guess it's goodbye, then."
Soul's smile faltered slightly at her words, but not that she cared enough to notice it. "You wanna go?"
"Well, yeah, I can't stay here forever, can I? I already said I would prove you wrong, that my Mama was innocent and never took part in some crazy human experiment! I will show you that all research Mama did was never meant for harm!" Maka declared, puffing out a pompous huff.
She turned to take her horse, grumbling about a plan to locate Mama's next lab immediately when she got back to Gallows Hill. Her steps didn't even reach two digits yet when she heard his voice.
"Wait, Maka…"
She turned to see him casting his eyes down, left hand grazing the back of his neck. Somehow that awkward boy was back, replacing the sarcastic guy she had come to know these past three days. What an odd guy.
"What?"
"Let me… let me go with you."
Maka's eyes widened. Was he actually serious?
"What? Go with me?"
He nodded, "You want to collect Mrs. Kamiko's research, right? Well, I happen to know the location of a few of her labs—so maybe…"
She would never understand this guy. She had just declared she would go on a journey to prove him wrong, and he wanted to help her do that?
His brother's gravestone caught her attention again. Oh. She had almost forgotten that Soul had lived in this place for years, alone, without any proper human contact. Suddenly she understood what emotion she had sensed in his soul when he had been watching her these past three days. It was contentment, probably. The joy to have a company.
She looked down at her notes where she had documented all of her inconsequential findings.
Mama's reason for leading her to Death City… had it been to meet him? To get him out of his solitude?
Blair meowed.
She stared at the Ishvalan boy who stood rather awkwardly in front of her. She was not sure why, but she believed that maybe his sarcastic façade was just how he dealt with people, hiding his inner thoughts behind taunts and teasing. When he got all nervous like this, he was actually being genuine.
Did she have the heart to leave this boy?
"Okay," Maka finally answered, hoping that her choice wouldn't cause any problems for her in the future.
Her future self might punch her for how wrong she was.