Noun; reason for being.
Between the muffled crunch of Soul's footsteps, the soft hush of the shadow snake following him mixes in with the lonely howls of the wind scraping against the desert he's found himself in. It hides in the shadows of one of the rocks or thorny plants strewn across the desert whenever he turns around, so he never sees it, but the fetid stench pressing against his face tells him the snake is close by.
He comes to a stop when he reaches an outcropping of five rocks, all evenly spaced apart in a circle save for one that juts out to form a point. It reeks of magic, but Soul's eyes itch with too much exhaustion for him to care much. A dormant sense of self-preservation rouses against his apathy, however. His head starts to pound the longer he stays standing-forcing the poltergeist into the darkness and whatever he did to it when he stabbed it with the scythe has drained him completely. The uncontrollable trembling in his knees decides for him: he barely manages to hobble into the shade of the largest rock before his legs give out.
With a grunt, he struggles forward in a pathetic version of a dog paddle until he reaches the base of the rock, leaning heavily against it even as its jagged surface bites into his back. A violent hiss brings his attention to the edge of the rock's shadow.
The snake has come out of the shadow it was hiding in, hovering just outside of the rock's shadow. It slithers in one direction and then the other, although it does not cross into the rock's shadow, evidently unable to, by the way its low hisses intensify. The snake's rank aura doesn't quite reach Soul either, and he glances up and around the rocks for a moment. Except for the spacing of the rocks and their presence, which seems to tighten the air around them, there's nothing odd about the outcropping, at least not enough to force him back to his feet.
Looking back around, he studies the desert sands, the same color as the Rift above. After Medusa left, he had floundered, fighting to squash the violent feeling inside him-he can still feel it rattling inside his bones even now. His tongue runs over the points of his teeth-the feeling that'd risen was more than the provocation she'd thrown, more than the anger and fear welling up from the corners of himself, even more than the hunger ripping away at his soul. It was unnamable, until now-the quiet whisper of dread that would creep across his mind, even when he was alive, that everything was not quite right, all that he had buried when the hunger first arose and what it had torn open.
It was himself.
The thought feels more like an exhumed truth than a realization-a surging river of horror courses through his veins, but there is only the faintest surprise echoing in it. The dull ache of the rock digging into his back begins to sharpen, but he doesn't move, watching the small crack in the Rift. Whatever he is becoming is more than he imagined when he threw away Medusa's potion.
Soul moves his gaze back to the snake, still moving agitatedly against the border of the rock's shadow. Over the distance he's walked, he has tried talking to the snake several times, though nothing has come out of it.
"You used to be a person," he says to the snake. "Anything left of you still in there?"
Like before, the snake ignores him, continuing to twist back and forth. There isn't even the slightest presence of the soul it used to be, only the cloying aura of Medusa.
Leaning his head against the rock, he lets out a sigh and closes his eyes. "I didn't think so."
For once, sleep doesn't rise up to try to claim him as soon as his eyelids slip shut. Instead, the weight of Maka tugs at the threads of his mind, while the memory of the encounter with the poltergeist replays in his head. He doesn't understand where the scythe came from, or what the light was, but it doesn't feel like a trick of Medusa's. There was a relief that'd filtered through from the poltergeist to him just before the darkness took him back to Abeyance, the same release he felt during reapings with Maka.
But what had happened in the darkness was something he had done on his own. He has no clue how he managed it, or whether he'd be able to do it again, or if it even matters: the number of souls lost to Abeyance is uncountable, and he had only reaped one.
And yet, it was something good, his mind whispers. In the sliver of space between being pulled away from the dark and waking up in Abeyance, the hunger had disappeared completely for once and he'd felt whole.
Pressing his palms into the soft ground, Soul cups sand into his hands and opens his eyes as he spreads his fingers apart, watching the grains of sand trickle away. Up until now, he felt like one of those tiny grains, following a path that'd already been shaped for him.
Brushing the remaining sand from his hands, he examines the few grains clinging to the tips of his fingers. Now he feels like he's standing on a giant precipice, but what he doesn't know which choice is fatal: jumping or staying.
The exhaustion wrapping around him intensifies; his existence since he crossed over has turned him into nothing but a series of actions. He's forgotten what it means just to be and for that to be enough-in life, it had only been in the stolen fragments with Wes as they avoided their lessons and recital practices.
Phantom warmth curls in Soul's hand; in death, however, it'd been in every moment with Maka, even when it felt like the hunger was ripping him apart.
His eyes trail up to the Rift, tracing the outline of the white fissure in the grey. Medusa means for him to break it apart, it wasn't hard for him to put that together, and the shadow snake was planted to keep track of him, although he's not sure if it is possible for Medusa to see him through the snake's eyes.
The rest of his thoughts are cut off by a stinging sensation on the top of his head. He glances up, sees nothing, and then looks around for what fell on him when the pain suddenly sharpens into a point, carrying with it a presence he knows as well as his own.
His hand drifts to his head, heat spreading from his palm to his fingertips.
Maka.
"Wow." Patti stares through the truck window, the tip of her nose poking through the glass as she ogles Black Star sitting in the front seat while Kid carefully negotiates Maka's truck away from the entertainment plaza. "I wish I could have dyed my hair that color before I died," she says in a mournful tone. "The white Soul had was cool too."
"Hey." Next to her, Liz reaches out and gives her arm a tug. "Stop staring and read the mood."
"But it's a compliment," protests Patti, although she allows her sister to pull her back down in her seat. "And he can't see me anyways."
"I'm not talking about him." Liz gives an unsubtle nod to Maka sitting opposite them on the corner of the blanket that Kid laid out for the prone body of Tsubaki to rest on. In lieu of squirming underneath their gaze, she tightens her hand on Tsubaki's shoulder, keeping her steady as Kid drives.
"Oh." Sheepish realization dawns on Patti's face. "Sorry, Maka."
"It's okay," she says quickly, before the ghost can say anything else. "You don't have to be afraid of mentioning him."
They both nod, but the wary glances Liz and Patti exchange, along with the awkward silence that follows Maka's reply, tells her that they're either remembering the night after Soul left, or they heard about what happened when she was offered a new ghost to bond with in June.
"How have things been going?" Maka speaks mostly to keep the pity on their faces from spreading any further, not quite able to look at them directly. The lights of downtown Moricio bloom in the corners of her peripheral vision and her grip tightens around Tsubaki as they curve around a bend. She winces at how cold Tsubaki's skin is and the way she breathes, rapid and shallow. Masamune's aura hangs over her like a shroud; she seems more like a corpse than a person.
Liz gives a half-shrug. "Everything's the same."
"And it's not, at the same time," chimes in Patti, pulling her arm free of her sister to get closer to Maka. "There's a lot more poltergeists, and they have the same black blood as that thing from the Rift."
"Patti!" Liz's head whips back and forth, looking for something, before she turns back around to hiss, "We're not supposed to say anything about that unless we're in the DWMA."
"I'm sorry!" Clapping a hand over her mouth, Patti's eyes go wide. "I forgot."
"It's my fault, not yours." The truck brakes abruptly, and Maka braces so Tsubaki doesn't roll off the blanket, although the sudden jolt doesn't keep the sting out of her voice entirely. "I'm not a reaper anymore so I shouldn't have even asked."
"I don't care about rules, I care about that hearing us." Liz tosses a rigid nod towards the floor of the truck bed, lips barely moving as she speaks as if Tsubaki will wake up if she speaks too loudly.
She frowns. "Tsubaki is unconscious."
"Maybe, but the thing possessing her isn't," says Liz. The flashing neon colors of downtown Moricio leaches away her semi-translucency, turning her nearly invisible. She shrinks further into the corner of the truck she wedged herself in. "The dead listen best, and recently there's been too many here who shouldn't be."
"But-" Liz cuts off the rest of Maka's sentence with a firm shake of her head, pressing a finger to her lips.
Biting her lip, Maka leans back and says nothing else, the freezing metal bleeding through to her skin. The light from the moon is cold and casts more shadow than illumination; a prickle of unease runs its way down her back. Growing up seeing ghosts means fear has never been more than a dark corner away, but it's been a long time since she's felt the mixture of dread and doubt from not knowing what could be tracking her.
They lapse into complete silence, even Patti, who goes back to peeking through the window. Occasionally, Maka joins her, peering in the glass to where Black Star attempts to be giving Kid an entire interrogation, although she can't make out how much Kid is telling him. Propping up her legs, she rests her free hand on top of her knee while she keeps a solid hold on Tsubaki. The pulse of her soul feels like a dying candle struggling not to go out.
Her grip stiffens. The scythe in her bag is useless, her abilities are useless except to monitor the fading beat of Tsubaki's soul... everything that she can do is useless. Even the fragile plan forming in her mind is worthless, if she's wrong about what she felt when Masamune pulled her into the dark.
Please. Closing her eyes, she presses against the iron cold of the truck and stretches out as far as she can with her perception, although she knows it won't reach Abeyance. There is nothing she can do for now, except let the numbing helplessness spreading through knot her stomach.
Liz and Patti rise when the truck comes to a stop, the engine turning off with a shudder. They're not quite in front of the entrance to DWMA, but the front of the building is visible, even in the dark. Taking her hand from Tsubaki, Maka stands, shaking out the prickly throb from sitting in one place for so long. She looks up at the decrepit facade masking the entrance and shivers as a frigid breeze weaves through the empty street; memory hits her with the force of a punch to the gut. The only times she used this entrance was when she and Soul visited the DWMA for the first time, and the night after Soul left, when Azusa and Marie interrogated her underneath the aura mirrors while they examined her soul.
It wasn't anything less than she expected, she tells herself as she stares up at the clouded windows, nails lightly running up and down her palms, particularly given what happened. Neither Marie or Azusa had raised their voice or accused her of anything during the interrogation, but the careful wariness they looked at her with, along with the unspoken accusation in their words, fractured the trust she had in the two.
Two simultaneous slams break the silence, and the sound of Black Star's voice rouses Maka from her reverie. "What are we doing in a place like this?" he says, eyeing the building with open revulsion.
A hint of exasperation tingles Kid's reply. "That's strictly on a need-to-know basis."
He scowls at the reaper, crossing his arms. "That's what you've said to almost all of my questions."
"Precisely," Kid answers, tugging on the hem of his sleeve. He glances at Black Star with an expression that's half annoyance and half something else Maka can't identify. "You need to know nothing."
Swelling, Black Star jabs a finger at Kid. "My best friend is in trouble and I-"
"If you want answers, I'm not the one you need to talk to for that," says Kid calmly. His oddly colored eyes don't seem to unsettle Black Star, unlike the first time Maka met him. Black Star continues to glower at Kid as he speaks. "I am only here to help a friend."
Maka blinks. While she and Kid had gotten along when they shared patrols, she hasn't spoken to him, Liz or Patti since she was forced out of being a reaper. Seeing the sisters reminded her too much of Soul, and eventually time had worn her avoidance into a habit.
"And I appreciate that," she interrupts, just as Black Star opens his mouth. Moving carefully to keep from disturbing Tsubaki, she jumps down from the truck bed. She pushes her hair out of her face, closing the circle the three and the ghosts have made. "What do we do now?"
"We can take Tsubaki in," says Liz. "Patti and I can mask her aura from the mirrors."
"What about cameras?" asks Maka.
"Most of the beings that try to break into the DWMA aren't the type to show up on camera so they've never been put up," Kid answers. "But even with that, we won't be able to mask yours or his presence," he adds, nodding to Black Star.
"So then what?"
"I'll need to-" He pauses. "Fix a few things in the system to make sure you two won't be detected."
"Okay." An embarrassed silence follows-there's more Maka wants to say to the reaper and the ghosts, but instead all she says is, "I'll wait with Black Star."
"Hold on, where are you taking Tsubaki?" interrupts Black Star, moving in front of her body. "Why can't we go with you now?"
"The ghosts with me can hide your friend from the DWMA's detectors, but not you and Maka at the same time," answers Kid, frowning when Black Star doesn't move. "I assure you that your friend will be safer in the DWMA than slowly freezing away out here."
"I wouldn't have called Kid if I didn't trust him," Maka says quietly to him. The stubbornness on Black Star's face wavers. "You know that."
After another moment, Black Star moves to the side, though he still stares darkly at Kid. "If anything happens to Tsubaki, I will kill you."
"Fair enough." Kid turns to the sisters. "Do you need my help?"
Liz rolls her eyes. "We're dead, not useless."
"I've got her head," says Patti eagerly, dashing forward to position herself at the top of Tsubaki.
"You always leave me with the harder part," complains Liz as she drifts to settle next to Tsubaki's side. "It's hard to balance arms and legs."
"You're the oldest, not me."
Kid pushes aside their bickering with a wave of his hand. "While you two move her to the lab, I'll make sure our way is clear."
Moving out of their way, Maka glances at Black Star, who is watching the exchange with wide eyes. His mouth opens and then immediately snaps shut as Tsubaki's body rises into the air; he's unable to see the sweeping motion Liz and Patti make in unison to lift her up. Her body hovers above the truck for a moment, and then the sisters slowly begin to move forward, Tsubaki drifting in sync with them.
"We'll be back," says Kid, starting to trail after the three. His gaze slides over to Black Star. "Is he going to be alright?"
"I think so." She waves her hand in front of his face, causing him to start slightly, and nods. "It's just the shock of seeing something supernatural."
"Oh." Kid's expression goes blank temporarily, and then he gives a dip of his head. "I'd forgotten what that felt like."
He leaves with another glance at Black Star.
Star and Maka watch as they disappear into the building; Maka turns to him after the door swings closed, bracing herself. The aftermath of Tsubaki's possession and Kid's arrival had kept them from talking, but there's no way to avoid Black Star now. "I know you have questions."
Blinking, he shakes his head slowly, raising a hand. His gaze is focused on something distant, brow furrowing. He moves like he is stuck in a fog, slowly taking a seat on the bumper of the truck.
"There are two of them, right?" he says. His gaze is now concentrated on the ground. "The ghosts you were talking to."
"Liz and Patti," she agrees, moving closer to the truck. "They're close to our age."
"Are they the only ghosts around here?" The expression on his face suddenly become unsure, and he casts a wary look at Maka, and then around himself. "Are there any listening to us now?"
It's been so long since she learned to tune out the ghosts and supernatural fragments that replay their deaths on repeat, to turn the apparitions into nothing but white noise on her perception field, that it takes Maka a moment focus in on them. "You've passed at least two dozen ghosts since we left the park," she says, swallowing back a flicker of amusement at the way Black Star's face changes. She peers at the wailing ghost pacing in a tight circle at the corner of the street, the urge to smile fading. "And there are probably ten or so floating around this block."
Black Star doesn't answer, staring out into space. Biting her lip, Maka waits, but the silence from him stretches out for so long that a prickle of concern starts to bite at the back of her neck. She's about to speak when he beats her to it.
"So you've been seeing ghosts all this time," Black Star says finally, still not making eye contact with her.
A knot of dread winds in Maka's stomach as she nods.
"All this time, there could have been a ghost breakdancing in my face," he continues. He looks up at Maka. "And you would have said nothing."
They stare at each other for a long moment.
The laughter that tears out of Maka's mouth borders on frantic, bringing tears flying to the corners of her eyes. She laughs until her stomach hurts and she begins to wheeze, doubling over and gasping for breath.
Black Star's voice is tinged with apprehension. "Are you okay?"
"Not really." Maka lets out one last cough, straightening and wiping her eyes. "I can see ghosts and that's all you're concerned about?"
"It's one of the major concerns at least," he retorts.
"Well, I haven't met a ghost with that kind of sense of humor yet." She hiccups once, taking a seat next to Black Star. "So you're safe."
"Good." His fingers drum against the bumper; from the corner of her eye, Maka sees him struggling to put words to whatever he's thinking. "Are there more things out there than ghosts?"
Maka presses her hands against the bumper, thinking hard. She can relate to Kid's words-it's hard to gauge what level of detail will overwhelm someone who has never seen a ghost, or even believed in them, until tonight. However, Black Star's soul is oddly steady for everything that's happened in the last thirty minutes. "Poltergeists are ghosts that come back from death. They can move things," she says cautiously.
His head tilts to one side. "That doesn't seem so bad."
She shakes her head. "Their souls decay over time, though. They stop being human before they rot away completely."
"Rot away?" Unease pulls the corners of Black Star's mouth into a frown. "What do you mean they stop being human?"
"I mean-" Maka pauses, trying to choose her words carefully. "Poltergeists want a living soul again. Once their soul begins to decay, they lose control over themselves and start attacking people."
She flinches as Black Star leaps to his feet. "And you let two poltergeists carry away Tsubaki?"
"No, that's different!" She jumps up to block his way. "Liz and Patti have a bond with Kid, that's why they could move her."
Black Star tries to move around Maka, but she sidesteps with him. "That won't matter when their souls fall apart!"
"It's a physical bond, they're still ghosts, not poltergeists," Maka says impatiently, still trying to keep Black Star from going around her. "Tsubaki is safe."
The words fail to deter him. "And how do you know that?"
"Because I'm bonded to one!"
She's louder than she means to be; her voice bounces up and down the street as Black Star lurches to a halt. "What?"
"You heard me." The memories are still too sharp to touch for long. "I died when I got hit by that truck two years ago," she says. "But I didn't go to the afterlife, I went somewhere else." Her heart thrums nervously in her throat-it's hard to articulate things she'd thought she'd have to keep buried. "A ghost named Soul found me, and he helped bring me back."
"Where is he?" Black Star's gaze flicks around her head, as if he can see the ghost if he squints hard enough.
"He's not here anymore." The words are like hot irons on her tongue. "But we still share a bond."
For a moment, Black Star is agog, and then he jabs a finger at her. "So that's who I would catch you talking to!"
A slight smile spreads across her lips, in spite of the ache in her chest. "Yes."
"Wait." Black Star puts up a finger, beginning to pace back and forth. After a moment, he says, "You're like him, that grim reaper dude?"
She raises an eyebrow. "You mean Kid?"
"Same thing." He waves a hand, continuing to pace. "He said he worked for this ghost hunting place, the BWNA or-"
"The DWMA."
"That's how you know him," he bursts out as she adds, "I work there too."
Black Star freezes in mid-step. "You work there?"
"Isn't that what you were thinking?" she asks, frowning.
His hands fling up in the air. "I thought they had taken you in, for training or something."
"Well, I-" She stops. "Wait, how did you know the DWMA hunts ghosts?"
"The power of refusing to stop asking the same question over and over."
"Naturally." Her amusement fades. "I started working for the DWMA after last Halloween."
"How?"
She shifts uncomfortably. "I think that story should be saved for when Tsubaki can hear it too."
Mentioning Tsubaki sharpens the tension in the air; the ease in Black Star's body disappears, and he throws an anxious look towards the DWMA. "Are you sure these people are going to be able to help her?"
"There's never a guarantee in anything." Her arms fold tightly across her chest, although it doesn't quash the dread winding around her heart. "But they were the best place to turn to."
A brief silence follows; she watches Black Star turn over this information in his head, gaze flicking up from the ground to the DWMA and then back again. He stands, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"The thing that's got Tsubaki isn't a ghost or a poltergeist, isn't it?" he asks. "It's something worse."
She only hesitates for a moment. "Yes."
"Then what is it?"
The hollow melancholy of being alone in her secrets is almost preferable to having to be this painfully honest. "Things like demons exist, they come from people's souls," she says as her gaze moves to the DWMA building, pushing her hands together. "The one going after Tsubaki is her brother."
Black Star almost topples over, barely righting himself in time. "Masamune?" He shakes his head hard, as if that will make him unhear her words. "That's impossible, how could he become a demon?"
"What happens after you die has to do with the soul." Her mind flickers back to the Rift, the sensation of slowly being consumed, and the sudden release. "Though there's more to it than I understand, I think."
Abruptly, Black Star deflates, shoulders sagging. "But why would Masamune attack his own sister?" he says. "I always thought he had the personality of a mouse."
It's too much to try and explain what Masamune told her in the tunnel. "There's a world between how someone acts and what they think."
The low whistle of the wind rings through the street as silence falls between them, a lonely eerie sound. It winds its way into the empty space in Maka's chest and resonates there with a sharp ache.
Finally, Black Star speaks. "I feel like I understand everything and nothing of what you just told me."
She can't bite back her laugh. "Imagine living through it."
"Well, everything is settled as much as it can be." The sound of Kid's voice makes the two jump in unison. His eyes appear even more catlike in the dark than usual as he approaches them, glowing amber. "Liz and Patti have her in the elevator and are holding it for us."
Black Star bounces on the balls of his toes. "How is Tsubaki?"
"Fine, considering the circumstances." The surety in Kid's voice doesn't falter, but Maka catches the way his gaze flicks away from Black Star for an instant. He turns on his heel. "But we should get moving."
"And where are we going after we get in?" Maka asks as she and Black Star follow after Kid. She holds back on calling him out on his lie, feeling for Tsubaki's soul through her perception instead, but the protective wards of the DWMA keep her from sensing anything or anyone in the building.
A shiver crawls up her skin just as Kid answers, and she gasps as a bitter death-chill washes over her, rooting her to the ground. The cold carries the same malevolence as the wind rending apart the forest outside Silver Canyon last night. Fear, acrid and corrosive, strangles Maka in a shroud, winding sharp and tight around her neck.
"Maka?"
The cold and fear disappear in one fell swoop. Maka blinks, the dim street lights are harsh against her eyes. She looks up to see Black Star and Kid staring at her. "Didn't you feel that?" she asks, glancing at Kid.
When he shakes his head, her gaze trails up to the sky where the Rift would be, if the city lights hadn't turned it invisible, and then to the DWMA. "Tsubaki."
She rushes forward, pushing past Black Star and Kid. Their questions don't register as she barrels through the illusion of the abandoned storefront, skidding to a halt in the middle of the DWMA's lobby.
Her head whips around, but her perception is completely muffled here. Gulping down breaths, she avoids glancing up at the ceiling, at the mirrors, although the awareness that her aura is just above presses heavily down on her.
"Maka!" Kid's voice is followed by a short yelp from Black Star as Kid drags him across the threshold. His eyes are wide. "What happened?"
"I felt something, I don't know how to describe it." She takes a step towards them, then casts another look around the room. "I think something happened to Tsubaki."
Meanwhile, Black Star is still staring at the door. His expression is completely flabbergasted. "We went through a steel door."
Kid gives his hand a tug. "It's not real."
"I understand that." Black Star pulls a face, jerking his hand from Kid's. "How?"
With an impatient click of her tongue, Maka moves away. Her eyes draw upwards involuntarily; even though she looks away quickly, she gets a glimpse of jade mangled with grey-green. Swallowing hard, she glances at the wall for the portal that Stein took her and Soul through the first time, seeing nothing. "Where's the door?"
Kid breaks off his reply to Black Star, blinking like he's remembering himself. "Here." He takes out a device resembling a garage opener and presses a button. With a soft hiss, the checkered black and white tiles in the back of the room split apart into a circle of black.
The sight snaps Black Star out of his shock. "What is this?" he demands, shooting forward to stand at the very edge of the portal. "Is this where you took Tsubaki?"
"Yes," Kid says as he strides forward and pushes Black Star in.
With a strangled screech, Black Star disappears into the portal.
Maka rushes to the portal. "What did you do?"
"It's a short drop, he won't hurt himself," answers Kid matter-of-factly. "Mostly, I wanted some quiet."
"Understandable." She eyes the portal. "You're sure the drop isn't that big?"
"It was the only way to transport Tsubaki directly inside without being caught by anyone."
When he draws closer, she holds up a hand. "If you say so."
Taking a breath, she jumps into the dark. A swooping feeling sweeps through her stomach as she falls. Kid is right-she had barely closed her eyes when the light from the elevator pricked against her eyelids.
Maka gets a glimpse of the elevator floor, close enough that she can see the seams of the glass panels, and then she feels herself freeze, Patti's face popping into view. "Gotcha!"
Momentarily, she stays suspended in the air, then Patti moves out of view and she drops onto the floor with a small grunt. Pushing herself up, she brushes the hair from her face, spying Black Star kneeling next to Tsubaki's body. He's hunched over her, head shaking.
Before she can say anything, Liz points upwards. "Kid's coming."
Maka's back hits the elevator wall with a dull thud as she scrambles out of the way. Kid emerges from the hole in the ceiling of the elevator moments later, landing lightly on his feet. He flicks imaginary dust from his suit before he presses the same device that opened the portal, making it blink out of existence again. "There."
"A little more warning would be app-" Maka's reply breaks off as she glances down.
Painted across Tsubaki's face and neck are ribbons of black. Two stripes form a point underneath her eyes, arcing down her neck and collarbone; they pulsate in time with her breaths like they have a life of their own.
Gripping her hand, a wave of horror sweeps through Maka's mouth at the numbing chill emanating from Tsubaki. "What's happening?"
Kid bends down next to them as the elevator begins to move. "The demon is taking over her body."
The tip of black peeking out from Tsubaki's sleeve seems to taunt Maka. "When did this happen?"
"As soon as we got her inside," Patti says, drifting down. "She started shaking when we settled her into the elevator."
"It took a lot to stabilize her, but the marks aren't growing anymore," adds Liz.
It's silent for a beat; Black Star doesn't seem to even register the conversation. His gaze is fixed on Tsubaki.
"How many of these have you seen?" asks Maka quietly.
There is a pause before Kid answers. "Many."
"And what goes first?" she says. In the bowels of the DWMA, there is nothing her perception can tell her. "The body or the soul?"
"The body." The soft chime of the elevator sounds. "But it doesn't take long for the soul to follow."
Nodding numbly, Maka lets go of Tsubaki and pulls Black Star up to his feet, who still gives no sign that he is listening. He rises slowly with no struggle, letting Maka guide him out of Liz and Patti's way as they lift Tsubaki into the air again.
The elevator chimes as they exit into a near-pitch black hallway that Maka recognizes as the one leading to Stein's lab. She turns in time to see the doors close, leaving only a blank expanse of wall. When she glances at Kid, he answers her unspoken question. "You can thank Patti and Liz for getting us as close as they did."
It's an awkward shuffle in the narrow hallway; even with Liz and Patti taking no space, Tsubaki's body, hanging limply in the air, fills up most of the corridor. They aren't able to move her as easily as they did outside of the DWMA, Tsubaki's body moving in starts and stops as Maka, Black Star and Kid follow.
Kid navigates his way to the front of the group once they reach Stein's lab at the end of the hallway, reaching over Tsubaki to knock on the door. Several beats pass before it creaks open and the glare of Stein's glasses stares down at them. It's hard to see much of his face, although what Maka can make out is unsurprised
The gap between the door and the doorframe widens. His gaze flicks from Tsubaki, then to Black Star, resting on his hair briefly, before looking to the rest. "Despite the many chemicals and lights here, this is not the place for a rave."
"This is the friend that I told you about last night," Maka says without preamble as Stein moves aside and Kid enters the lab. She fidgets as Black Star wedges himself behind Tsubaki as Liz and Patti tug her body into the lab. "We were in Moricio and she collapsed-"
The rest of her words run dry.
"I thought you weren't able to find Stein last night." Azusa stands behind one of the lab tables, hand tilted to one side and arms crossed. "Isn't that what you told me?"
Beside her, Marie rushes over to Tsubaki, horror spreading across her face. She splays out her hands over Tsubaki's body, mouth pressing into a thin line. "I don't know how she's still alive," she says, motioning to the sisters. "Azusa, come see."
For a moment, the psychic gives Maka another look and then she turns her attention to Tsubaki. The sisters take her body to hover over the table-Black Star comes back to life, helping Kid shove the tools and equipment off to make room. Liz and Patti lower her gently onto the surface, relief fanning across their faces as soon as Tsubaki's body touches the table.
They all crowd around the table while the two ghosts float upwards. "That's the longest I've ever carried a person," Liz says. Next to her, Patti nods exhaustedly, leaning back as if to drift away.
Meanwhile, Black Star is pelting with Marie and Azusa with questions, watching intently as Azusa runs a hand over Tsubaki. "Is she going to be okay?" he asks. "What are you doing to her?"
Without looking up, Azusa asks, "Who is this?"
"Black Star, he was with us when the demon attacked," Maka says defensively. "I wasn't going to leave him outside so-"
A sharp edge enters Azusa's voice. "You told him?"
She bristles. "What was I supposed to do?"
Stein intervenes. "Your friend is getting cold," he says to Black Star. "There are some blankets in the back, could you bring a few to warm her up?"
Black Star hesitates for a moment, then glances down at Tsubaki, and nods.
Azusa waits until Black Star is out of earshot. "You have about a minute to explain."
In a rapid burst, Maka recounts what Tsubaki told her, along with Masamune revealing himself, although she avoids any mention of the scythe resting at the bottom of her bag. She takes a breath when she finishes, heartbeat thrumming in her fingertips.
Black Star returns just as Maka finishes, holding several blankets in his arms. Without speaking, he begins arranging the blankets on Tsubaki.
"An exorcism like this isn't going to be easy," Marie says finally as Kid takes a blanket from Black Star and bundles it up as a pillow to put beneath Tsubaki's head. She rubs the side of her face absently, gaze fixed on the black stripes on Tsubaki's face. "How many reapers do we need?"
"It depends how much she's fighting and how long she can keep him from taking over completely," answers Azusa, pushing against the part of the needle sticking out from Tsubaki's sleeve. A frown traces her face. "At least a dozen."
Marie grimaces. "It's a struggle to get four or five." With another look at Tsubaki, she backs away. "I'll see if I can round anyone up."
"This is not the ideal place for an exorcism," comments Stein as the door clicks closed behind Marie.
"She has minutes left, not hours, so it'll have to do," Azusa replies, suddenly businesslike. "What do you have to purify the space?"
"It's rather bold of you to assume I have anything," he drawls, adjusting his glasses as he moves away from the table.
Ignoring him, Azusa mutters inaudibly under her breath. Her shadow sniffers materialize one by one, gathering silently at her feet. Maka counts over twenty sniffers when they stop appearing. There is a sheen of sweat on Azusa's brow, and she breathes heavily for a moment before turning to Kid. "You know what you need to do?"
He nods, then looks to the sisters, pulling his guns from their holsters. "You should rest before we start."
"Anything to get away from that demon stench," says Liz, wrinkling her nose. "I've been choking on it since we got into the elevator."
"It's not that bad," Patti counters, drifting down from the ceiling. "You're just acting and thinking like you were still alive."
"And you don't?"
"Nope, I just wish I was alive," says Patti as the sisters disappear into the guns.
A feeling of uselessness sinks into Maka while she watches Kid retreat into a corner of the room and Stein return with cubes similar to the one he gave her. Even Black Star is unusually quiet, smoothing the creases in Tsubaki's blankets. His expression has fixed itself on her face again, although Maka knows he is paying close attention to everything happening around him.
She floats after Stein; talking to Azusa for too long runs the risk of the psychic seeing something that'll unravel her secret, although she has a sinking feeling that Azusa knows enough to piece it together anyways. Stein doesn't acknowledge her presence, except for holding out a few of the cubes for Maka to take.
One by one, he activates the cubes, light emanating in a steady radiance as he arranges them on the floor, or places them precariously on an overstuffed cabinet or table. It's hard to make out a pattern until she sees the light from the cubes overlap each other, covering the entire lab in its glow.
"Didn't take too long to find trouble, did it?" Stein isn't looking at Maka when he finally speaks, cramming a cube next to a liquid filled jar with a well-preserved eyeball floating in it.
A scowl crosses her face. "You should have warned us when you opened the door."
"And tell Azusa and Marie to ignore the body floating in mid-air as you scurried away?"
Heat blooms in her face, and she grits her teeth. "I could have tried something here."
Stein takes a cube from Maka. "Do you mean more than you already tried with my invention?"
For a moment, she splutters. "How did you know?"
"The giant rip in your friend's clothes was the first clue." He finally looks at her. "Azusa and Marie probably believe it's because of the demon."
Relief is marginal. "Well, I guess now you know it's useless against demons." She pauses. "It's not much more effective against poltergeists."
"Yes, Azusa told me about last night, the horde is still out there." He gives a shrug. "I can try making some adjustments, but it slows the poltergeists at least."
"That's still nothing." The flood of tears welling up in her eyes is unexpected, turns her speechless. She shoves the last of the cubes in Stein's hands and walks away before he can say anything else.
Her nails dig hard enough into her skin that a tiny drop of blood beads from one of the welts; she wipes it away on the inside of her jacket sleeve, and fights with herself before she approaches Azusa. "What can I do?"
"A demon possession like this requires a large gathering of reapers and their ghosts to force the demon out," says Azusa. She glances down at Maka, a twinge of sympathy flitting across her face. "There's little you can do without one."
The truth pinches at Maka with a vicious bite; she swallows it down. "Wouldn't it be easier just to kill the demon while it's possessing her?"
"Attacking a demon while it's possessing someone is too dangerous." Azusa snaps her fingers and the sniffers spring into motion, dispersing to the edges of the room. "It can destroy the body."
Maka's mouth goes dry while Black Star's glare drills into the back of her head. Quickly, she finds her voice-she doesn't want to know what Azusa's future sight will see if they continue down this line of the conversation. "Then how do the reapers force out the demon?"
"It's called group resonance." With a wave of her hand, the sniffers stretch themselves so they resemble shadows. "The resonance between two souls is what allows a reaper to do their job- slaying the poltergeist and forcing its soul into death," she says. "For a possession, the resonance of several reaper pairs draws out and kills the demon."
Maka's eyes trail to Tsubaki. "Is it as easy as it sounds?"
"Hardly." Azusa glances at Stein, who is placing and activating the cubes around the room. "But there is no other option."
The lights overhead go out just as a clanging on the door rings throughout the lab. Maka and Black Star start while Kid springs to his feet. Stein pauses in the middle of placing the last cube, exchanging a glance with Azusa. "Who is it?" he says.
"Stein?" Marie's voice comes from the other side of the door as the knocking intensifies. "Let me in."
Maka frowns. "I thought the door was unlocked."
"It is for people," he answers as he moves to the door. His hand rests on the handle. "How did we meet?"
The door rattles in its frame. "I got lost looking for my office on my first day here, and I walked into your dissection room."
"And what was I dissecting?"
"Nothing, you were taking a nap!"
"Good." Stein opens the door, and Marie bursts through, crashing into him. She detaches from him, stumbling slightly, and slams the door shut. With the power out, the only light comes from the cubes on the floor. They cast harsh shadows on Marie's face, the calm in her expression splintering as she jabs a finger at the door, although no words come out of her mouth.
Azusa strides forward and Maka trails behind, the shadows on the wall rippling as Azusa's sniffers follow their master. "What happened?"
"I was heading for the elevator when I passed the lab. I thought I got lost so I went back the way I'd come." Marie's hand falls to her side. Her expression is slightly dazed.
Azusa's voice is impatient. "After that?"
"I went past the lab again." Marie turns away from the door; her hands are trembling. "No matter what direction I went in or if I tried going down a different hallway, I always ended up on front of the lab," she says. "I figured it was the demon trying to stop the exorcism. I tried the door, but it was locked, and when I knocked, no one answered."
"But Stein answered right away," says Kid, frowning. "A poltergeist or demon can't warp time and space like that either, nor can anything else from Abeyance, except a witch."
Maka's blood runs cold, but Marie gives a rapid shake of her head. "I was knocking for at least five minutes. Eventually, I gave up so I purified the space to see if I could force the demon into revealing himself."
Azusa glances at the door. "What did you see?"
"Nothing, at first," she says. "But then the lights went out, and a darkness came over everything, and then I blinked and heard Stein." She meets Maka's eyes. "It was like how you described the Rift."
A silence follows briefly-Stein is the first to speak. "If they weren't all in Abeyance, I would say this entire thing would reek of witch's magic."
Crona's name almost escapes from Maka's mouth. Soul's warning echoes in her ears; she doesn't know if it's possible for Crona to have traveled from Abeyance to here overnight, but if this isn't a poltergeist or demon, then it could only be Crona. Her head swims-she isn't aware she's moving until a hand clamps around her arm.
"What are you doing?" Black Star stares at her with alarm.
She yanks her arm free. "We can't do an exorcism with one reaper," she snaps, looking to Azusa. "Can we?"
There is a small beat of hesitation before Azusa speaks. "The chance of success would be so small, it'd be close to zero," she says, glancing from Maka to Black Star.
Maka's heart pounds faster in her chest-she wouldn't risk Tsubaki's life, but this could be her only chance to confront Crona. "If I go, I could use my perception to find my way out of the demon's maze," she says. "I could find reapers, bring them back."
It takes longer for Azusa to answer. The gaze she fixes Maka with is cutting, as if she can see through to the tangled web of truths and lies she is trying to keep from unraveling. "It will be too late," she says finally, a subtle edge in her voice. "You wouldn't be successful either."
"So you're just going to let Tsubaki die?" bursts out Black Star.
"No, we're going to kill this demon," Azusa replies, manner turning cool and brisk again. "Gather around the table." She nods at Kid. "You'll be leading this time clearly."
Black Star shadows Azusa as she moves away from the door. "But you said we had nearly no chance of saving Tsubaki!"
"Nearly is not the same as no chance at all." She sweeps him forward while Stein, Kid and Marie arrange themselves around the table, and raises an arm as Maka passes by. In a quiet voice, she says, "And we will discuss what I saw later."
It's the axe Maka has been waiting to fall since she walked in the lab, snapping the tightrope she's been balancing on. There isn't time to feel, and she doesn't allow herself to wonder what Azusa could have seen in her future sight; she gives a short bob of her head and walks away without looking at the psychic.
Stein and Marie are murmuring to each other as she slides her way next to Black Star. He stands beside Tsubaki's head, while Kid is on the other side, eyes closed and arms crossed in an X, Liz and Patti's guns brushing against his face.
"What did the boss lady want?" Black Star raises his eyes briefly from Tsubaki's face as Maka joins him.
Her smile is humorless. "Another story to save for Tsubaki."
He doesn't challenge her, for once. They both look down at Tsubaki; her breathing is even slower than when they were driving, and the color has drained from her completely.
Azusa appears out of nowhere, taking a spot between Kid and Marie. She sets a wooden metronome at the edge of the table. The sliding weight on the pendulum is carved into the shape of a skull, the pits of empty space it has for eyes boring into Maka.
Black Star eyes the metronome warily. "What are we going to do with that?"
"In a traditional exorcism, the entire space outside of the circle is purified by several mediums, which allows the resonance between the reaper pairs to drive the demon from the body of the possessed into the reapers' bodies," says Azusa. She gestures to the middle of the circle. "If the group resonance is strong enough, the demon is forced to take refuge in the only part of the space that isn't purified. A reaper has the chance to kill the demon then, but it usually takes more than one attempt to kill it."
"Group resonance is hard to maintain and quick to break down." Marie picks up the metronome, sliding the weight down. She casts a glance at a circle. "Ours won't last more than one try."
"We already know the odds." Black Star's fingers tap impatiently on the table. "What do we need to do?"
Marie hands back the metronome to Azusa. "The cubes Stein made will help keep the lab purified, but I'm going to do a quick sweep of the room."
"If we pull the demon through our circle, it would be more likely than not that one of us would end up possessed since the majority of us are not reapers," Azusa says as Marie heads to the back of the lab. She points to the metronome. "So we're going to use our resonance to push the demon out."
Black Star's brow furrows. "What is resonance?"
"It's like the breathing of the soul." Azusa reaches over to the metronome and gives the pendulum a nudge. The metal of the skull weight gives the metronome's wooden clicks a sonorous echo. "Every soul resonates, but only those with supernatural abilities are aware of it."
"This metronome was created by one of our psychics," she says just as Marie rejoins the group, giving Azusa a short nod. "We use it at the beginning of exorcisms to help align the souls' wavelength." She looks at Stein and Black Star. "Even though you are not gifted, the metronome should pull your soul into line with ours."
"And after that?" asks Black Star.
"It will take a few minutes for the resonance to build," Marie says. "Kid will take the lead to direct the resonance to the demon." She sounds slightly out of breath. "With the wards I've laid down, there won't be any room for it to go anywhere but into the circle."
"The most important thing is not to break the circle," Azusa adds. Her iron stare finds Black Star, then Maka. "It will break the group's resonance, and your friend will be beyond saving."
The silence that comes afterward is broken only by the rhythmic click of the metronome as the weight of their reality becomes tangible. This kind of fear is contagious, constricting around the group like a vice. Maka glances around. The air has the sharp tang that marks one of Marie's purification rituals, and is filled with the same heaviness as when the medium clears a space after a reaping.
"It won't get any easier to start," Stein says finally.
"Right." Azusa gives her head a shake. "The easiest thing to do is to focus on the metronome," she says. "You can close your eyes, if you wish."
Maka and Black Star exchange a final glance, and then she closes her eyes.
Trying to resonate without Soul is discomfiting, like trying to breathe underwater. Maka shifts, and her foot knocks into one of the legs of the table. The clang resounds; she cringes. "Sorry."
The tense quiet settles over the room again, and Maka focuses on the metronome. She shoves aside her discomfort, pretends that Soul is next to her instead of in Abeyance. Nothing happens at first, if she concentrates hard enough, she can feel Kid, Patti and Liz resonating, but they are moving on a different wavelength.
Panic winds in a frenetic thrum around her heart; she swallows it down. Just listen to the clicking.
The voice in her head sounds oddly like Soul. She holds her breath until her heartbeat nearly matches the even rhythm of the metronome. Just listen.
She starts when Black Star's soul comes roaring in, narrowly avoiding breaking the circle. His soul is louder than hers, bouncing everywhere, though it's in the exact same beat as Maka's. There is a stir beside her, and she hears Black Star suck in a breath.
"It's alright," she whispers.
When Black Star goes still, she tunes back into her perception. One by one, the souls of the rest spark in the perception field. They thread together in a fragile link that strengthens as the minutes tick by. Tsubaki's soul lies outside of their chain, something stilted in the beat of her soul, most likely Masamune.
Kid's soul, orderly and calm, surges forward. The rest of their resonance chain moves with him, not quite reaching Tsubaki. When he tries again, Maka pushes along in Tsubaki's direction as well.
Something shatters when the chain touches Tsubaki's soul, but it's the scream renting apart the air that makes Maka's eyes fly open.
Tsubaki convulses on the lab table; the marks on her body have turned scarlet, running down her skin like blood. She's opened her eyes finally, irises stained the darkest black. Her scream ricochets against the walls, wild and inhuman. Abruptly, it extinguishes in a guttural wail, but the silence that follows is worse.
The light from the cubes flicker temporarily; across the table, Kid tenses, raising his guns. "Don't break the circle."
As soon as she speaks, Tsubaki sits up. The light from the cubes snuff out completely.
It's not right. Maka can tell by the way Kid's hands waver, the sharp intake coming from Marie. There is a rumbling in the air that shakes the ground, in her head, she feels her hold in the group's resonance fracture.
Tsubaki swings her legs over the edge of the table; beyond the circle, the door to the lab crashes open.
Maka is careful to stay rooted in the exorcism circle as she reaches out and seizes Tsubaki by the hand.
And then, she sees them.
Crona.
Soul expects to see Maka as soon as he enters the darkness. When he doesn't, he frowns and kicks forward, running his thumb across his palm. His skin is so hot, it's nearly burning, but the heat is comforting in a way.
He keeps an eye out for the ball of light as he heads in a straight line, unsure of where Maka could be. There is no pull from her soul, no sign of her anywhere, but it isn't frightening to search around in the dark now that he knows what it is.
A small part of him is railing to go back to Abeyance-Maka hadn't been calling to him when the heat flashed in his hand, and he hadn't been pulled in either, like with the poltergeist. He'd chosen to come, and he is choosing to stay.
Heartache is a river Soul hadn't realized he'd been swimming in it until he felt Maka's soul in his hand. It'd be easier to go into the Rift again than acknowledge his feelings, but he can't deny how they pushes him against what he told her when he last saw her, muddles what he needs with what he wants. The way their last conversation ended digs at him-he had to let her know he was alright at least.
Stopping, Soul buries his face in his hands and silently screams. Who he is, whether it's what she sees in him or what Medusa is inciting him to be, isn't clear to him anymore, and with that, he loses sight of everything else.
Somewhere above him, Maka's soul pulses in the dark.
Maka rights herself in the dark, heart thudding in her ears.
Her head swivels as she floats in place and memories from before Masamune pulled her into the darkness surface. She tilts her chin upward, listening hard. The silence of this darkness is the same as the one where she finds Soul: cool and peaceful. Distantly, a familiar chill in her hand settles into her bones and she freezes; stunned disbelief washes over her, but the low whimpering nearby pulls her attention away.
Crona is curled into themselves just below her, wings billowing out, more pitch than the darkness. Their face is normal from what Maka can make of it. She watches them warily-she is an easy target with no weapon. When they continue to stay curled up, she hesitates before approaching them cautiously.
"Now what do I do?" Their whispers are frantic, bordering on frenzied. They speak as if they're talking to someone, although all Maka sees is their wings. "He's infected," they mutter, sinking further inside themselves. "I don't know how to deal with that."
"Do you know who I am?" Maka speaks before her courage can fail her, rounding in front of Crona.
She was only half-right on Crona having their face; the lower half is nothing but jet black fissures splitting them ear to ear, although their eyes are wide and terrified. They recoil away. "Rabbit girl."
The name makes Maka pause, but at least she can see the recognition in Crona's eyes. She chooses her next words carefully. The malice twisted in the creature's soul is not their own-their soul almost feels like a child. "You're called Crona, right?"
There's a long moment of quiet, and then they bob their head.
"Good." She hides her sigh of relief. "I have a friend named Soul who lives in your world," she says, clenching her hands nervously. "Do you know where he is over there?"
Crona unravels. "I never spoke to the kishin, Mother says I can't talk about them." They pull at their hair, shaking their head. "I should have been the kishin!"
In the dark, Maka doesn't see their wings coming-her head snaps back as the wings lash out and send her hurtling backwards. The force of the hit threatens to bring down a different kind of darkness; instead, she sees stars as she crashes into something solid.
She tumbles back in a somersault. Whatever she's ran into has a tight grip around her arms. A vision of Masamune crosses her vision and she fights wildly, grunting in victory when her kick lands home. Their grip loosens, though not completely, and Maka wrenches an arm loose, whirling around.
Her fist drops away, the bite of its chill radiating outwards. "Soul."
The pain from Maka's well-placed kick disappears as soon as she breathes his name.
He wants to touch her to make sure she's not an illusion, though the way she'd slammed into him and everything afterward assures him she isn't. His hands are still on her arms, and he pulls back.
Maka's eyes don't leave his as he shifts away; he's acutely aware that he hasn't answered her yet, but he can't seem to find his voice. Even if he could, he has no idea what he'd say: honesty might save him, but it would probably ruin him as well.
At her sides, Maka's hands furl and unfurl. "I need your help."
He's nodding before she finishes her sentence.
From time to time, Maka looks for Crona, but they're nowhere to be found, vanished into the dark. With a slight tilt of her head, she peeks at Soul from the corner of her eyes, and looks away quickly when she sees him doing the same.
She hadn't expected him to come-according to Soul, he'd felt her call in Abeyance and decided to come, thinking it another situation like the poltergeist in the woods, though he refuses to explain why he vanished abruptly last night. They lapsed into silence soon after that.
It lingers now, although she longs to break it. The urge to revive their conversation from last time, demand he finish what he'd been on the verge of saying, rises on her lips every time she opens her mouth to take a breath, but she locks her voice against it. Finding Tsubaki and Masamune is her main priority; everything else will come after.
In the end, Soul is the one to talk first. "Do you think the demon chose Tsubaki to get to you?"
Maka shakes her head-she'd only told him about Masamune possessing Tsubaki, not that they were related. "When he was alive, the demon was a person called Masamune," she says. "Tsubaki was his sister."
There is a ripple of shock on his face, but there is none of the rapidfire questions or denials like Black Star lobbed at her when she told him. When he speaks again, she has to lean in to hear him.
"Do you think he's still human?"
"He chose to be a monster," Maka says. "That's the most human thing I can think of." She kicks forward, considering. "I don't know if that means he's still human or not."
"I've seen the things witches can do, the illusions they can make him see-they could've driven him mad," he replies, though by the way he is speaking, it's like he's talking to himself more than to Maka. "The choice wasn't entirely his."
"Everyone is responsible for what they become." Then, she frowns, absorbing his words. "Wait, how do you know so much about witches?"
Soul is silent, briefly. "It's hard to avoid their presence."
"Meaning you spent time with one?"
This time, he doesn't answer.
"I trust you." She needs him to know this, despite her pain and anger. "I still don't know why you felt you had to leave, but I trust you."
For a long moment, there's no sign that he heard her; it's almost as if he's frozen. Another moment passes, and then he nods.
Maka looks away. It's clear there isn't more he's going to say on the subject; the need to know why he left her in the Rift still burns, but it's enough that he is here.
"Do you know where we're going?" he asks after another silence.
It takes a few seconds for her to answer. "Maybe." She looks around. "We're close, I think."
"Maybe?"
"I don't exactly have a map of wherever this is, do you?" Tsubaki is barely a flicker on her perception field, and while Masamune is a dead weight in the field, he's moving too fast for her to fix on his location.
"No." There's a trace of amusement in Soul's voice. "But I do have an idea of what this place is now."
"And what is that?"
"Do you remember when we jumped from the tree and woke up in the hospital?" he asks. "And the darkness in between?"
She combs through her memories; there'd been a soft darkness and the thrum of another soul before Spirit's voice and the noises of the hospital pulled her awake. "Yes."
"What about after you were hit by the truck and...after?"
"You mean when I died?" The sound of brakes squealing against asphalt and pain exploding across her body echoes, there's a faint memory of darkness, but it's hazy. "I don't remember that as clearly," she says, glancing at Soul. "Do you?"
"I do." His gaze meets hers. "And I think is the same place."
It takes a minute for Maka to process. "So you think this is where dead souls go?"
He shrugs. "Where they're supposed to go, at least."
"But how did we make back home?" She drifts to a stop, spinning around slowly. There's nothing that makes the dark distinct, no path or trail.
"Maybe it was because of you."
"Or you."
Soul starts moving again. "I doubt that."
They travel for another several minutes, Maka leading the way. She tries to get a fix on Masamune; he seems to be slowing down, but he's moving erratically. What she can sense is enough to pull them in his general direction.
"Something isn't right," says Soul shortly after they switch into a new direction. He points to a patch of darkness ahead of them. "Do you see it?"
It takes a minute for Maka to see what he is pointing at. The mound of darkness looks like the same as the rest of the murk, but the closer she scrutinizes it, the more she can see it is wrong. There is something more opaque about this dark; it's shifting, morphing. She can't tell what it is until the patch splits, and the forked hands of Masamune's stick figures cut against the dark.
She glances around them.
They're surrounded.
Both of them go still as a grave, but after a beat, Soul whispers, "I don't think they see us." He's drawn closer, the side of his body grazing against Maka's.
"And how do you figure that?"
"We're not dead, for one." The stick figures overlap, motionless as trees in the dead of night. "Twice dead, in my case."
"So you're saying we can just stroll out of here?"
"A little slower than that, maybe." From the corner of her vision, she sees his head twist. "I'll go one way, and you go the other."
Being alone in the dark with Masamune's stick figures reminds Maka of huddling beneath her covers while the poltergeists tormented her; she shakes her head vigorously. "No, we go together, or not at all."
She can hear the roll of his eyes in his voice. "If they go after you, I can distract them. If I'm with you, I can't."
"Well, I'm not asking you to do that."
"You don't have to," he hisses.
"And you don't have to either."
Soul sighs. "Fine."
"Masamune and Tsubaki are that way." She points ahead of them, to the right, where two stick figures float quietly. "We should go under."
Their hands brush as he moves to see where she points. "Okay."
She sucks in a breath. "All right."
They sink down in inches, moving slowly. Their hands stay pressed together as they descend; Maka watches the stick figures, but they remain where they are. She keeps her gaze fixed on them until they meld back into the dark again, and continues to peek back afterwards.
"I think it's safe," she whispers after another minute. She's about to suggest that they move up when the stench of Masamune's aura surges over them.
"Postponing the inevitable just extends the suffering." The demon drops down in front of Maka and Soul, baring a violent grin, which widens when his gaze falls on Soul. "My visits to the hospital taught me that." Behind him, a stick figure follows, carrying Tsubaki in its hands. Her eyes are open, but she doesn't move, staring into nothing.
The pulse of her soul is extinguished to almost nothing.
"There's a difference between what happened to you and what you're doing to Tsubaki," she spits. Soul's hand laces around hers to keep Maka from lunging at Masamune. She kicks at the air. "She never hides in the shadows; you're a coward!"
Masamune's grin vanishes. "I am better in every way than my sister," he hisses. "She had an equal chance to fight but she could never be honest about what she wanted; she chose to stay stuck in the past instead, even now."
Moving to the side, he gestures to his sister. "Take a look for yourself."
She glances at Soul, whose grip tightens, and she gives a nod. The stick figure drifts forward and pauses, extending its arms out to Maka. It goes against fiber of her being to turn her back on Masamune, but Soul's hold keeps her steady.
Masamune's eyes are on Soul as they pass by; he inhales deeply. "Kishin," he breathes. "Delicious."
Bewildered, Maka looks at him, but he shakes his head. "I don't know."
She bites back her question and looks ahead again. The markings on Tsubaki are absent; she takes this to mean that Masamune hasn't taken her soul yet, but her breathing is as ragged as her soul's pulse.
The chill of Tsubaki's skin bleeds over to Maka, though it's the cascade of memories that steal her breath. These memories are not hers: visions of running through a park with Masamune, who is alive and much younger, and staying up late to watch TV morphs into sitting in waiting rooms and hovering over Masamune while nurses prod at him. The lightness in the earlier memories deadens; Masamune grows thinner and more fragile-looking.
When the memory of his last hospital visit floods her vision, Maka braces herself for his death and funeral, but the memory never comes. Instead, the memories seem to freeze, and then everything reels backwards, and the memories from the beginning start again.
The bright colors of Tsubaki's memories shift back into darkness. Soul tugs Maka away from Tsubaki, Masamune's laughter trailing after them.
"Do you see now?" he says as the cold overtaking Maka's body finally registers. It's nothing like the coolness of Soul-the frost from the demon is nearly harsh enough to crack her whole. "Her memories nearly turned you into a zombie too, didn't they?"
"That's part of your tricks." She rubs her hands together, trying to knead the feeling back in her fingers, and strains to see Tsubaki. There had been a jolt when Soul pulled her away, the beat of her soul had strengthened for a moment.
"Maybe," Masamune answers. "Now, I was going to give you the chance to leave, but then you walked in with a kishin soul." His gaze goes to Soul. "I'm afraid I can't let you go."
Stick figures with pointed fingers and toes come to life around Maka and Soul. Maka's eyes dart up and down-there are too many of them to count. It's overwhelming, nearly makes her lie down without a fight, but her stubbornness grounds her. She waves her arms to ward off the shadows when they begin to enclose around her and Soul.
"You go," Soul speaks out of the corner of his mouth. He's turned so they're back to back, though he tugs on her hand. "I can distract him while you try again with the exorcism."
"No." She'll fight, even if she only has her fingernails for weapons, but she won't leave him or Tsubaki behind. She can't help squeezing his hand back; despite everything that's happened, their souls still beat in time with each other. "I'm staying."
One of the stick figures closer to Maka charges; her hand forms a fist as she lashes out, praying that a shadow like Masmune's stick figures can feel pain.
The branched point of the stick figure's hand goes through Maka's arm like water, but agony does not light through her arm. Instead, it's the figure that hunches over, like it had been the one stabbed, freezing in place for a moment before it dissolves away into dust.
Shock turns her mind blank, the world hangs in an odd limbo. Soul's hand squeezes around Maka's again, and in a rush, the memory from when they defeated the demon with no scythe two years ago tumbles to the front of her thoughts.
For the first time since he left, Soul's presence rings clear on the other side of their link.
"Resonance," they breathe out.
They move somewhere in between a dance and shadowboxing, like when they reaped together months ago. The stick figures are quick, trying to fit within the space between their hands to push them apart, but they lock their arms together. All of the shadows disintegrate the moment they touch Maka or Soul.
By the time the stick figures stop their march on them, both of them are doubled over from exhaustion; although the shadows' attacks did no damage, the rot from their master's soul chipped away at their resonance. It's stretched thin now, ready to snap at the touch of a feather.
"That's enough." From where he is, Masamune waves his hand forward and the only stick figure left comes forward to stand next to him, carrying Tsubaki. His expression is a mask of ice and rage. "Your game has bored me."
Maka tenses; their resonance won't withstand more than one attack from Masamune, and she knows they can't take a demon like him down in one hit.
The demon's eyes gleam crimson as he approaches. "You should have just given up," he tells them. "It would have been easier."
From nowhere, a bead of light appears. Its radiance stings Maka's eyes, but Soul reaches out to it, like he's greeting an old friend. The light elongates as soon as it touches his hand into a familiar shape.
Soul thrusts the scythe in her hands, and launches himself at Masamune. "Use this!"
Maka wraps her fingers around the scythe's middle, frozen for an instant. Her eyes dart to Soul, who has his arms locked around Masamune, the easiest target he'll ever be, and to Tsubaki. Before she can think twice, she acts, bringing the scythe's blade down on the stick figure.
Masamune breaks free as his last shadow fades to nothing; knocking the scythe from Maka's hands and throwing her backwards with a furious scream. She feels herself slam into Soul again, his hands righting her. Beyond them, Tsubaki's body drifts, the scythe hovering next to her.
There is something beastlike about Masamune as the demon stalks towards them; Maka shoves her fear down and holds onto Soul with an iron grip, her other hand curled into a fist. She won't go down begging for her life.
The noise that Tsubaki makes as she stirs is nearly inaudible.
Masamune grinds to a halt, twisting around as Tsubaki pushes herself into a sitting position and rubs her eyes. Maka's voice becomes stuck in her throat as Tsubaki looks down at the scythe, picks it up, and blinks, like she's not sure if any of this is real or not. Her eyes are still filled with the haze of the trance Masamune put on her, she makes no protest when one of her brother's shadows wraps around her waist.
"So my sister finally decides to honor us with her presence." The stick figures Maka and Soul defeated rise up as Masamune speaks. "How gracious."
Tsubaki's gaze falls on Maka, but she makes no sign of recognition, though when she looks at Masamune, her lips flutter.
"Do you recognize me?" His eyes seep back to black. "You never thought your poor, weak brother could be this strong, could you?"
"Masamune." Tsubaki speaks like she is in a dream.
"About time." He flicks her head. "I'm going to kill you," he says, razor-sharp and triumphant. "But first, tell me who you are."
"I..." Tsubaki's answer trails off as she stares at her brother. "I'm..."
A vicious smile spreads across Masamune's mouth when she doesn't finish her sentence. "That's what I thought."
He swings Tsubaki forward, in plain view of Maka and Soul. "Your friends thought differently and tried to save you, but you and I know the truth."
Tsubaki's eyes seem to clear when she looks at Maka again; she turns towards her brother. "Masamune."
"No, no." A shadow forces her mouth shut. "You don't deserve to say my name more than once," the demon tells her. Hatred breathes a fire in his eyes. "You were and will always be nothing." His tone is bitter and mocking. "Go on, say it," he says to her. "Your last words should be fitting."
"I'm not nothing." Tsubaki's words are more breath than sound, but they carry over in the dark.
Oh?" The shadow around her waist constricts. "And why not?"
"Because I'm Tsubaki." Her voice is soft, like the first ray of sunlight after a long night. "I'm your sister."
She lifts her head, scythe lifting in her hand. "But I am not your shadow."
An awful tearing sound fills the air as the blade rips through Masamune and frees itself out of his back. The shadow around Tsubaki vanishes along with every other stick creature, but she doesn't move. Her hand is still laced around the scythe, tears streaming down her face. The demon stares at his sister in surprise, like he is seeing her for the first time.
"Your sister," she repeats, letting of of the scythe and her hands going from herself to his face. "Tsubaki."
"Tsubaki." Pieces of Masamune are fragmenting apart, peeling him to nothing, though he seems not to notice. "My sister."
"Tsubaki," he says again when he is almost worn away completely. "Well, I guess that is something beautiful after all."
There is a trace of a smile on Masamune's face as he disappears. "Goodbye."
Tsubaki drops the scythe, lunging for her brother, but she vanishes before she can reach the place where he was.
Alarmed, Maka shoots forward to where the two were, but then she feels the distant pull of Tsubaki in her perception field. Her heart drops from her throat back into her chest. "She's traveling back," she says to Soul. "She'll be fine, I think."
"Except for nightmares." He moves to rest next to her. "Chamomile mixed with lavender helps."
"I'll keep that in mind." Plucking the scythe from where it lies, she turns to Soul and hands it to him. "Thank you for your help."
Her words are stilted and awkward; she doesn't know where they stand after what they just went through (or where she wants them to stand). Soul nods, then gives her a look, raising the scythe. "No questions?"
Maka presses her lips together. "Nope."
His eyebrows lift. "Now I know you're lying."
The smile that breaks across her face is nervous, fragile, and sincere, mirroring the one on Soul's. They share it like it's a secret, and the moment passes as quickly as a flash of light on the horizon.
"The scythe first came to me the same way it did now, though from where, I don't know," he says, moving the scythe to his other hand. "I think I helped someone move on with it."
"That's excellent." Her tone is too cheery to be believable; that should have provoked a whole round of questions, but all she can focus on is the resonance chain calling her back more and more forcefully. Soul says nothing-their hands are still twined, bond beating loudly in the silence. She should say something, but it would break the peace they've fallen in, and she can't seem to summon her voice anyways.
"You should go." Soul moves away first. "I'll find you if I discover anything new about what the witches are planning." He glances at Maka. "If you ever need help, I'm here."
"Okay." It's much less than what she wants to say, but nothing else seems right either. "I'll be here too," she say finally.
His voice burrows in her head as Maka lets the group's resonance pull her away. "Goodbye."