Noun; categorized as an overwhelming fear of death, the anxiety of one losing those they love, including themselves.
August
"Do you know what a kishin is?"
Soul blinks as Maka's voice snaps the quiet. The soft hush of the souls moving across the dark fades; he sits up, looking over at her. "No," he says, although his answer feels like a lie somehow. "Why do you ask?"
"I was thinking about Masamune and some of the things he said," she answers, sitting up as well. "Crona said it too, that they should have been a kishin." She frowns, shaking her head, and meets his eyes. "It seemed like a strange name for Masamune to call you, I've never heard it before."
"The witches disappeared thousands of years ago, didn't they?" Soul's not sure why the word makes him so jittery-he resists the urge to move away. "It could be a dead word they learned from the witches."
"Maybe." Maka doesn't seem convinced, but she doesn't say anything else.
"How is Tsubaki doing?" he asks after a moment.
"Pretty well for being possessed by her demon brother," she says, returning to hovering on her back, hair floating loosely around her head like a halo. Her eyes close, and she raises her arm above her, then lets it drop to her side. "She talked about taking fall semester off, so she could have time to heal."
"That's smart."
Maka gives a nod. "She's strong." Her arm sways out like a branch caught in a breeze. "She talks about Masamune more than she used to and lets herself cry."
"I told her and Black Star about you," she adds on suddenly. "Did I tell you that I did?"
He shakes his head, then realizes that her eyes are still closed. "No."
"Black Star wants to meet you, they both do," Maka's hand is close enough to touch. "I tried drawing a picture of you to show them what you looked like."
A snort escapes from Soul before he could stop it. "They probably think I'm Count Dracula's cousin."
Maka's eyes open; she directs a scowl at him. "My drawing skills aren't that bad."
"If you say so."
A small "hmph" is all she give in reply.
For a few minutes, quiet falls again. Soul can't keep himself from glancing at Maka's hand, which she hasn't moved. They haven't held hands or even touched by accident since Masamune; it's something he shouldn't miss, but does anyways.
"I think I'm waking up." Maka sits up, a concentrated look on her face. "It's weird, being here and also there."
Soul frowns. "What do you mean by 'there'?"
"Earth," she says. "My body doesn't come along during these trips."
"And you can feel both of them at the same time?"
"Only if I focus hard enough, which I try not to," she says, cringing. "It's uncomfortable."
"I guess there is a perk to having no body." Soul stretches. "If you need to go, then go."
Maka sighs. "I probably should. I have a check in with Marie and Stein," she says, though she doesn't make a move to leave.
Guilt enters his voice. "And nothing new to tell them."
Her eyes widen slightly. "I wasn't trying to make you feel bad; Stein's made a map of Abeyance with your information, and knowing about the crack in the Rift is helpful."
"But it's not the same as finding out how...the witches are doing it." His words fumble as he finishes his sentence; he nearly let Medusa's name slip. He closes his mouth before he can say anything else-he hasn't found the courage to tell Maka about his deal with Medusa yet.
"It's enough." The touch of Maka's fingers on the back of his hand is light, gone in an instant. She's firmly not looking in Soul's direction when he looks up at her.
Soul swallows before he speaks, though his voice isn't as steady as he'd like for it to be. "I'll see you tonight?"
Her eyes meet his. "Same place as always."
She disappears after that, like a rabbit in a magician's trick. However, Soul lingers in the darkness, listening to the souls passing on and waiting for the scythe light, which joins him and Maka occasionally.
The light doesn't appear this time, though, and without Maka, the darkness gets too quiet, so he leaves after a few minutes.
Hunger grips him as soon he comes back to Abeyance, ironlike maws that pin Soul to the ground and chew on his bones from the inside out. The only good thing is that the hunger is too paralyzing for him to act on.
It takes longer than usual for the hunger to ebb away, something that's been happening increasingly often-more times than Soul would admit. He rolls on his side after the hunger pangs have dwindled enough, careful to avoid getting sand in his mouth. The desert is not where he'd like to be, but after nearly a month of fruitless searching for Medusa in the forest, he figures he might have more luck here.
The hissing of Medusa's snake is absent as Soul rubs his eyes, which he finds odd-the snake usually tries to crawl onto him when he returns from the darkness.
"Welcome back."
A strangled cry escapes from Soul's mouth, eyes flying open to see Medusa's feet in front of him. He scrambles backwards, then clambers to his feet. Medusa stands in front of him with a smirk on her face, looking the same as before, though she wears a cloak now. Although Soul spent so long looking for the witch, the urge to run rises so sharply that he nearly follows it.
"That isn't a polite way to treat someone who has helped you so much." She draws close in one fluid motion, her voice crawling into his ear as she sweeps behind him. "You still carry Maka's scent, did you know that?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." He spins around while he speaks, but the witch's voice still comes from behind.
"You know exactly what I mean, but I haven't come to argue about that." Medusa comes into view as she slinks around Soul in a circle. Reaching within her cloak, she brings out a flask filled with a familiar golden potion. "I bring a gift as a peace offering."
Soul eyes the flask with disgust. "I don't need that anymore."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," the witch says as she comes to a stop in front of him. "You haven't received the second part of my gift."
"Something tells me that I don't need it, but you can offer it anyways," he says, mind working hard to find a way to fall into a conversation that would make her reveal something about her plans.
"This gift is a story, one you might take as a warning." She begins circling him again, voice dropping low as she sweeps a hand to the Rift. "Have you ever wondered how witches were separated from Earth in the first place?"
He doesn't answer, waiting.
"You've seen by now that not all souls are the same," Medusa says as she passes in front of him. "Some are gifted with the abilities to commune with the dead, others can see the future, and then there are souls that can unleash fear and madness across the entire world." Her gaze slides onto Soul's face. "Those souls were called kishin. Witches occasionally used them to immobilize or shepard their prey."
Revulsion rises in his mouth. "Why would anyone do that?"
"Because kishin hungered for souls as well," whispers Medusa, bringing her face close to Soul's. "Most of them never realize it, though. They usually became murderers, or went mad, never knowing what they were craving."
Everything inside Soul turns cold.
"A long time ago, there was a kishin called Asura." Medusa resumes her walk after staring at him for another moment, smirk growing. "He was more unfortunate than other kishin because he was born terrified of the world, but that may have been why he was so talented at spreading fear and driving people mad.
"Asura was discovered by a witch named Vajra; she sensed his power. She took him in, began feeding him souls to see if it would cure his fear, and for a time, it did." Her eyes gleam with memories. "Asura could make entire towns quaking in fear, send waves of madness spreading through the countryside."
He wants to move, to run-anything.
"But Asura's paranoia returned; he became convinced that every witch, except for Vajra, was going to come after him to eat his soul. He covered himself in scarves, letting no one but Vajra see him." Medusa stops walking, behind Soul again. "Vajra convinced him to go out one day, and took him to a gathering of all the witches, thinking it would help him to confront his fear, but she was wrong.
"Asura went mad, accused Vajra of betraying him, and killed her, the fool," Medusa says. "Then he turned on us, laid down a curse on his soul and every other soul he ever ate, to trap us beyond death, starve us slowly.
"And it worked in a way," she continues, a thoughtful look on her face. "The curse consumed his soul, sent us into what you call Abeyance, but it also poisoned Earth and created the Rift in front of death."
"Why are you telling me this?" Soul's mind is numb.
"Because you know what you are, even if you never had a name for it." Medusa enters his vision, delight dancing in her eyes. "But it works differently here in Abeyance." Her finger taps on his chest, then points to the crack slowly splitting the Rift in two. "You bring the Earth closer to you when you sleep."
Medusa holds out the flask like before, and waits.
Several moments pass, then Soul's hand wraps around the flask.
Maka's truck comes to a stop in front of the entrance to the DWMA; she twists the key out of the ignition, feeling the engine rumble as it grinds to a stop. Flipping the visor down, she gazes at herself in the mirror for a moment, then lets out a loud exhale and gets out of the truck.
She passes by the ghost of an old lady standing in the middle of the street on her way to the DWMA's entrance. "Excuse me, honey, could you help me?" the ghost calls to Maka as she heads up the steps to the door. "I think I'm a little lost."
It's been a long time since Maka has paid attention to a questions or pleas of a random ghost, but something about the lady reminds her of Mrs. Horschenblott, the first ghost ever who made her feel safe, and she pauses on the stairs. Don't answer, the voice of reason says in her head. Keep walking.
Maka turns around.
"I'm sorry," she says, "I-"
The rest of her words are cut off as a bus as transparent as the old lady careens into the ghost. They both disappear before the old lady can hit the ground; Maka glances up the street and spies the ghost walking to her death again.
Swallowing, she stuffs her hands in her jacket pockets, and climbs up the rest of the steps.
Marie is waiting for her in the lobby, hands clasped together in front of her. Combined with her all black outfit, she looks more like a preacher than a medium. Her face brightens when she sees Maka enter. "I thought you might come early."
"I'm visiting my mom later so I wanted to check in before that," she answers, keeping her eyes fixed on the black and white floor tiles as they pass under the aura mirrors, and Marie opens the door to the DWMA portal.
"How nice, how's your friend Tsubaki doing?" asks Marie, holding the door for her.
"She's better; there are some nightmares, though," Maka says, unable to keep herself from looking up as she walks to the portal. To her surprise, the black-green of her aura has softened to a lighter shade of emerald in some places. She glances away before Marie can notice. "But I think she's already survived the worst one."
"I would agree with that." The door swings closed as Marie follows Maka, draping them in complete darkness. "And how is Black Star?"
"Still asking to visit the DWMA again and be shown the place where you keep the X-men mutants," she says, wading into the darkness. "He has a severe misunderstanding on how the DWMA works."
"Clearly, though Kid's more frequent visits to Orcus Hollow might help him correct that misunderstanding."
"Black Star is stubborn and oblivious." She is careful not to fall into the trap of lowering her guard-it's hard to forget the way Marie looked at her after Soul left. "So it's unlikely."
"That's unfortunate for Kid." The light to her office looms ahead, one of the shortest portals Maka's taken. "But he's patient."
They emerge into her office; Maka steps carefully over the piles of papers and files stacked on the floor. She glances at the huge map they've built of Abeyance over the past month, to the bottom of the map, which they have labeled the Rift, and points to a space about two handspans above it. "There's a part of the desert that leads directly into the grove of cocoons," she says, moving to the side to let Marie get to the map. "Soul also said there is no forest separating the cocoons from the Rift."
Marie sketches this in, and checks the labels, redoing a few she is unhappy with. "There." Looking back at Maka, she asks, "Anything else?"
"The crack in the Rift is looking wider," Maka says, eyes trailing to the coffee cup resting precariously close to the edge of Marie's desk. "Though only by a little bit."
The medium nods. "Anything more than that?"
"Soul hasn't found a witch yet; he thinks that they might be avoiding him on purpose," Maka admits. She peeks at Azusa's office, visible from the doorway, and celebrates silently when she sees it is empty.
Marie's eyebrows raise. "Do they know he's passing information?"
"I don't think so. We're talking in an entirely different place than Abeyance," she says, turning to lean on the arm of a chair.
"Alright," Marie says, clearly trying to mask her disappointment. "We'll find out eventually, I suppose."
A pang of guilt nags at Maka as the psychic turns back around to study the map. Marie had released her from her duties in purification missions to train on perfecting her resonance and work with Soul, even though Maka knows that the psychic needs all the help she can get. It was a mark of how Marie was trying to make up for her distrust of Maka after the incident in the Rift, and it makes her feel bad knowing that and what she plans to do tomorrow night.
But not enough to change her mind. Letting out a deep breath, Maka gets up from leaning against the chair to join Marie, catching her foot around the leg of the desk as she does. She gives the desk a hard shake as she "stumbles", sending the coffee mug tipping to the floor.
"I'm so sorry," Maka apologizes rapidly, the apology not just for the coffee seeping into the carpet.
"Don't be, I shouldn't have put my cup there." Marie picks her way to the doorway. "Could you pick up any papers that got stained while I get some towels?"
"Of course." She waits until Marie is gone before she takes her phone from her pocket, snapping several pictures of the map.
"I thought you knew taking pictures wasn't allowed here." Maka's heart leaps in her throat as she whirls around to see Kid pausing in the hallway, Liz and Patti peeping into view from their guns in a flash of light.
"I wanted to some pictures to show to Soul." She invents from the first thought that springs to her mind. "Get his opinion on it."
"You can take your phone with you when you travel over to deathland?" Patti asks in amazement as she drifts closer to Maka to look at her phone screen. "Do you still get service?"
"Well, I can't take my phone, but I can draw pictures." Maka shoves the phone in her pocket. "But my memory isn't so good, which is why I took the photo."
Kid frowns, clearly unconvinced. "Did you get Marie's permission?"
"It's a picture," Liz interrupts. "Who needs permission for that?"
"Well-"
"I'm trying to save someone I care about," Maka says suddenly. "That's it."
There's a pause as Kid and Maka stare at each other, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Every time you need something in this building, it's never there when you need it," huffs Marie as she returns, roll of paper towels in her hand. Her eyes fall on Kid and the sisters, and she smiles, navigating through the crowded space to where the coffee spilled. "Hey, you three. What brings you here?"
"Seeing Azusa about an assignment," he answers as the two ghosts chime a greeting. ""But then I saw Maka."
The phone is a dead weight in Maka's pocket; both Liz and Patti stop moving.
"We stopped to say hello," he says without looking at Maka.
She hides her relief by looking at the spill, which Marie is attempting to mop up. "Well, that's no good," the medium sighs. "That's what I get for not cleaning up."
"We might be able to lift some of that out for you, if you want," says Liz, inspecting the stain over Marie's shoulder. "That shade of brown is hideous."
Marie shakes her head. "Oh no, I-"
"We've never lifted up a liquid before," Patti adds. "It would be a few minutes."
Glancing over at Maka, Marie says, "We do have to go see Stein."
"And it doesn't look like Azusa is in, so we'd have to wait anyways," Kid replies. He meets Maka's eyes. "Though you should be more careful."
"Getting organized was my New Year's resolution, but obviously I fell off the wagon quickly." Marie tosses the towels in the trash and rises. "Maybe after we're through with whatever this is."
She doesn't seem to notice the tension in the room. "I'll be right back."
Finally, Kid looks away from Maka. "We'll be here."
Maka doesn't let out her breath until they reach the elevator at the end of the hallway.
Inside the elevator, Marie sniffs her hands and makes a face. "I think I'm going to have to stop drinking coffee."
"I thought you loved coffee."
"I do, but the baby doesn't," Marie sighs.
"Baby?" That drives away the cycle of thoughts running through Maka's head. "You're pregnant?"
"I'm a little less than two months so I'm not showing yet," says Marie. There's a small, nervous smile on her face. "I found out last week, but I haven't quite told everybody since I'm early enough to still participate in field missions, though Stein wanted to tell everyone."
She blinks rapidly. "I didn't know you two were in a relationship."
"We tend not to publicize it." The elevator doors open with a soft swoosh. "Although separating work from personal life is a challenge."
"I can imagine," Maka says as she steps out, straining in vain to see if she can feel the little soul in Marie. Her eyebrows furrow when she sees Marie hasn't come out of the elevator. "Aren't you coming?"
"There are a fair amount of chemicals in Stein's lab that shouldn't be," Marie answers, hand going to her stomach. "I can't risk it."
"Right." Maka nods, hesitating before adding, "Congratulations."
Marie's smile grows as the elevator closes. "Thank you."
There is a loud clanging coming from Stein's lab as Maka knocks on the door. She waits, knocks again when there's no answer, and finally gives up, opening the door. The pieces of a table lie strewn across the path from the doorway.
She looks up and sees Stein holding her scythe. "Did the table attack you?"
"Collateral damage." He points to a clear container filled with black blood on the floor. "I was trying to cut into that."
She moves aside a large piece of debris with her foot as she heads towards Stein. "Why?"
"Testing out your scythe's new capabilities," he answers. "It should be capable of reaping any poltergeists that come your way with just your resonance, but there is still room for improvement."
"That's more than enough improvement for me." Maka tugs on her gloves and takes the scythe as she joins him in front of the wreckage, glancing at the container. "Why couldn't it cut through the black blood? It's a liquid."
"Maybe at first." Stein picks up the container, unscrewing the lid and tipping it upside down.
Maka springs back. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," says Stein as the black blood remains in the container.
Tilting her head, Maka draws near him again. "It's gone solid?"
"Completely." Stein taps the container. "So have all my other samples." Rather than sounding frustrated, he seems fascinated. "None of my tools can extract it from their containers, and nothing can get through the glass, let alone the blood."
He goes silent for a moment. "It may be why you weren't able to kill Crona when you battled with them."
"Because an unkillable monster is what we need." She deactivates the scythe and stows the cube in her bag. "What about the poltergeists Crona is infecting?"
"None have shown the same talent Crona has with black blood," answers Stein, replacing the lid on the container. He walks away, gesturing with his head for Maka to follow. "Perhaps it has something to do with their rotting souls, or that they're not built to use black blood like Crona is."
"Built?"
"There are some properties that appear synthetic in Crona's blood." He opens the door to his office. "If we're going off the hypothesis that they are half-human, there is no way that they should be present in their blood."
"Meaning their mother did this to them." The couches in his office are still pushed together the way they were a month ago for Tsubaki. "Or she let another witch do it to them." She perches on the edge of one, unable to keep the disgust out of her voice.
Stein settles in his chair, studying Maka. "You're angry."
"I am, and you should be too," she retorts. "No mother should hurt their child like that."
"They might have turned into what they are, without any help," he suggests.
"That still doesn't mean she should have made them worse."
He cedes the point with a tilt of his head. "Learn anything new from Soul?"
"More about Abeyance geography, not much else." Her impatience to leave returns, though she tries not to show it. "He's still searching for a witch."
"It's surprising he hasn't found one yet," he says, leaning back. In the more muted light of the office, the shadows beneath his eyes disappear. "I would have thought he would have met at least one."
"There could be only a few left," Maka replies defensively. She doesn't mention the relief she feels when Soul reports the absence of witches; she's not sure what she would do if he didn't appear one night and left her to assume the worst. Internally, she gives herself a hard shake, and shuts the thought out of her mind. "Besides, we don't know how large Abeyance is. It could take a while to find a witch.
"But I did remember something and I had a question about it," she says, changing the subject quickly. "I'm not sure it would help with anything, though."
"The last time you had a question about something, it resulted in you bringing a demon in my lab," Stein says, pulling off his glasses to examine them. "I'm sure it can't get much worse than that, so go ahead."
"Well, it has something to do with that." She pauses. Whenever she tries to remember her and Soul's encounter with Masamune in the darkness, the images are hazy,still coming to her in bits and pieces. "When I saw Crona in the dark, they said they should have been a kishin," Maka says. "It was a word I hadn't heard before, and I was wondering if you knew what it meant."
Stein goes silent for a long moment. "A kishin," he repeats finally, replacing his glasses on his face. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," she answers, the unease in her chest growing. She's glad she didn't mention that Masamune called Soul a kishin. "Do you know what that is?"
"Not exactly," he says, rising. He turns and scans the cabinet stuffed with books behind his desk. "They're more of a myth than anything else."
"Why do you say that?"
"The DWMA has never been able to confirm their existence; not that we tried much, with everything else we do." He pulls out a thick book and sits back down, searching through the pages until he finds what he's looking for, then pushes the book towards Maka. "This is an illustration of an old folk rhyme."
Maka peers down at the page. The picture is faded, but she can see that it's set in a village square of some sort. People are gathered on their knees around a figure floating in mid-air. Her eyes trace over the fear mirrored on each person's expression, then move up to the figure. Black hair hangs in his face so she can't make out his eyes, although his mouth is open in an eternal scream.
Her gaze lingers on the jagged points of his teeth.
"Read the caption." Stein's voice startles her out of her trance, and she looks at the bottom of the page, studying the short description.
The Kishyne Most Fearsome. Artist Unknown. This illustration depicts a popular legend dating back to the eleventh century of a monster disguised as a human who would infect the souls of others with fear before eating them.
Maka reads the caption one more time, then closes the book. "So a kishin is like a demon, then." She's not sure what she's feeling, only that she wants to get out of here.
"Not precisely," Stein replies. "Humans born with the capacity to become demons don't always become demons-a witch needs to change them-while a few other legends indicate that a person born with a kishin soul always becomes one."
He becomes quiet for a moment. "Based on what Crona said, it seems like their mother tried to make them a kishin."
"It's good that she failed, then." She clasps her hands to keep from fidgeting. "And that there are no kishin around."
Stein's gaze moves to rest on her face. "I suppose it is."
Maka holds his stare for a moment, then gets up. "I guess that answers my question," she says, sweeping her hair behind her shoulder. "Marie told me about the baby. Congratulations."
"Thank you." The suspicion in Stein's voice remains, but his expression warms a little. "We're looking forward to it."
Her smile is only partly forced. "I'm going on a trip the day after tomorrow," she says, making her way to the door. "I won't be in Orcus Hollow then, or most of the day after, so I'll check in when I come back."
"Call if you find out anything else," Stein says. "And be safe."
Maka turns, smile dropping from her face. Her heart is racing so fast that it feels like it's going to come out of her chest. "I will."
By the time Maka reaches Orcus Hollow, she has managed to mostly compose herself, although her hands still tremble as she parks in front of her mother's house. If she hadn't promised in advance to visit Kami today, she would have gone straight home to sleep and talk to Soul.
In her head, Stein's words replay while the image of the kishin plasters itself in her vision.
"It's not possible." She doesn't realize she's talking until she feels her lips move. A tightness constricts in her throat, accompanied by a stinging in her eyes. Her nails pinch into her palms as she takes a deep breath, then another, holding it until her heartbeat has gone back to normal.
Kami answers the door as soon as Maka steps back from knocking. "Hey." She's wearing one of the old tie-dye shirts they made together when Maka was in third grade, and her hair is tied back in a ponytail, strands of hair sticking out.
The sight is completely unlike the neat appearance Kami usually keeps, pulling Maka out of her thoughts. "Sorry, I know I'm early."
"No, it's fine." Kami steps back to let her in, pushing the stray hairs out of her face. "Come in."
Maka looks around as she enters the house; her mother bought one of the small cottage style homes in the middle of Orcus Hollow, a few streets away from Maka's school. It's not something that she'd ever imagine Kami buying, who prefers everything sleek and modern.
"I'm the one who's sorry for the mess, I was supposed to be done with this last week, but then the art dealer called with another emergency," Kami says, gesturing to the pile of boxes in the living room. "You can sit while I unpack and then we can eat lunch."
She glances to the kitchen across the living room-the microwave is still sitting in its box on top of the counter, along with three boxes labeled "dishes". "Are you planning on cooking?"
"If calling for pizza means cooking, then yes." Kami grabs a box, and lowers it to the floor with a small groan. Rubbing her hands, she looks at the boxes. "I doubt I'm going to be finished with this before our trip."
"Maybe you can with an extra set of hands." Maka pulls her hair into a ponytail. The promise of a distraction is welcome, numbing her thoughts.
Kami shakes her head, frowning. "I didn't ask you to come over to do chores."
"It's not a chore if I want to do it." Crouching down, Maka opens the box and pulls out the white and gold curtains peeking out from the top. "Do you want to hang these here or somewhere else?"
Giving her a look, her mother sighs, then smiles. "Those are going in your room, actually."
Maka lowers the curtains. "My room?"
"I mean, it would be your room, if you ever decided to stay here," Kami says quickly. "It's only if you want to."
It's a question that requires an immediate answer, but Maka doesn't speak right away. Everything rises in her, all of the hurt, all of the pain of hoping and losing. She's lost too much, too many times, and above the pain and the anger is fear, a feeling that no longer needs to hold onto her because now she is the one who won't let go.
Her gaze trails from the curtains to Kami, focusing on Kami's shirt, not her face. After Kami left, she figured Kami would have gotten rid of everything from her old life. It hasn't felt this nerve-wracking to look at her mother since she came back, like she's going to die.
And yet, you survived that, a voice whispers in her head. And everything else.
The silence in the living room continues for another minute; then Maka lets go of the breath she was holding, along with everything else.
"Yes," she says. "I'd like to."
The sun is beginning its trek below the horizon by the time Maka turns into the driveway leading to her home. She's surprised to see that her space is already occupied, then she recognizes Tsubaki's jeep.
She parks next to the jeep, and starts as a voice assails her ears from the porch. "There you are!"
Black Star leaps up from the porch seat, Tsubaki following suit. "Where have you been?" he demands.
"At my mother's," she answers, giving him a strange look as she climbs the porch stairs. "Why are you here?"
Tsubaki steps forward to greet Maka with a hug. "We just wanted to-."
"We came to talk you out of your suicide mission," interrupts Black Star loudly, his glare digging into Maka.
Shushing him, Maka pulls away from Tsubaki to stare daggers at him. "The window is open and my father is home," she hisses. "Lower your voice."
Black Star continues to glare, but his volume drops. "I would tell your dad if he wouldn't think I lost my marbles."
"How lucky for me." She steps back, looking at Tsubaki. "Does he even know you're here?"
Tsubaki nods. "We told Spirit we wanted to wait out here to see you."
"Well, you've seen me," Maka says, directing her reply to Black Star. "Now you can go."
"Did I hear my name?" Spirit's head peers out of the porch window, gaze falling on Maka. Did you enjoy your time at your mother's house?"
"Yes, but it's been a long day," she says, hoping at least Tsubaki will take the hint. Now that light is falling and night is rising, her nerves from earlier resurface, and the only thing she wants to do is go to sleep.
However, Spirit seems to read her mind, and does the exact opposite. "It's been so long since you've eaten here," he says to Black Star and Tsubaki. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"
Hesitation crosses Tsubaki's face, but Black Star speaks immediately. "Yes, that would be wonderful," he says, giving Maka a look of triumph, who has no choice but to chew on her tongue as Spirit opens the door and lets Tsubaki and Black Star in.
Dinner seems to drag out for an eternity; Maka watches as the blue of the sky melds into orange mixed with purple. She hardly participates in the conversation, except when she's asked a direct question. Tsubaki has the grace to cover for her when she doesn't answer, although a comment from Spirit pulls her out of her thoughts.
"So have you met this boy Maka is pining over?" he says to Black Star and Tsubaki at the end of dinner. "She refuses to tell me who he is."
Maka chokes on her drink, sending lemonade spraying across the table. "Papa," she manages to say before coughing so hard that she nearly hacks up a lung. Distantly, she is aware of Tsubaki patting her on the back.
"I didn't know you liked anyone," Black Star says as she gets a hold of herself again. He lets out a yelp, and gives Tsubaki a look. "Why'd you kick me?"
"It's fine, it's fine." Spirit raises a hand, rising and picking up his plate. "I get it, I'm not supposed to know." He heads to the sink, calling over his shoulder, "I'll clear the table, don't worry about it."
Without looking at either Black Star or Tsubaki, Maka walks out of the kitchen and heads for her room, feeling them follow with her perception.
"You like him," says Tsubaki as soon as Maka closes the door. "I was wondering after you told us about everything."
Black Star is still confused, brows furrowed together. "Who is 'him'?"
Tsubaki directs a look of pure disbelief at him while Maka wishes for a hole to appear and swallow her.
"Wait." Realization dawns on Black Star's face as his gaze swivels from Tsubaki to Maka. "You're in love with the ghost?"
"It's not the only reason I'm traveling to Abeyance." She takes a seat on her bed, pulling her legs up and crossing them.
"But it is a big reason," says Tsubaki, joining her. "Isn't it?"
"I know nothing could ever happen," she says quietly after a moment.
"No." Tsubaki's expression is sad. "But it doesn't change your feelings, does it?"
"Liking a ghost is strange, but it's not the weirdest thing that could happen," interjects Black Star, pacing back and forth. "The thing we should be talking about is the fact that you're planning to cross the literal rift between life and death tomorrow night."
"And what would you do if that was me or Tsubaki over there?" Maka's temper snaps. "Leave us to rot?"
"Obviously not." Black Star recoils like she'd slapped him. "But didn't you say he chose to leave?"
"I also said that it wasn't something Soul wanted to do." She ignores the twinge of pain in her chest. "It's not enough to talk to him in my dreams, I need to see him face to face."
This only stymies Black Star temporarily; Tsubaki has turned oddly silent. "And what about the fact that you're probably going to die? Have you thought about how that would affect us or your parents?"
Maka looks down, refusing to acknowledge his point. "I've survived things that have come from Abeyance, including the time I died and wound up there," she replies. "Which I wouldn't have, if Soul hadn't risked his life for a complete stranger."
"And if you go all that way and he still refuses to come back?"
That makes her voice dry up into nothing. "Whatever happens, I have to try; you're not going to change my mind," she says finally. "If you try to stop me, I'll just leave now."
Black Star stares in shock for a moment, and then rounds on Tsubaki. "Why aren't you saying anything?"
She looks from him to Maka. "Because, while I don't like it, I agree with Maka."
"What?" Black Star turns blank, like he's been suckerpunched in the gut. "How could you agree with her?"
"Masamune." Tsubaki's voice wavers, and she closes her eyes for a moment. "What he did almost killed me, but it made me let him and my guilt go, which I wasn't doing," she says. "That would have killed me, too."
She reaches out to clasp Maka's hand. "Do what you need to do."
A weak laugh escapes from Maka, and she looks at Black Star, who throws his hands up in the air.
"Do guns work over there?" he asks. "Sid has a few, I could probably take one without him noticing."
This time, Maka laughs hard enough to chase away the tears on the verge of falling. "I doubt they would do much," she says when the last of her laughter dies away, hiccuping once. "Thank you, though."
Tsubaki squeezes her hand. "Just don't die."
The tiny sphere of light immediately zooms to Soul's face as soon as he enters the darkness. It floats close to his cheek for a few moments as he tries to convince himself he did the right thing by coming, then flits over to where Maka is hovering.
A sinking feeling drops into his stomach as soon as he sees her face. "What?"
"I know why you left," she says. Her face is unreadable as she moves towards him. "I understand why you became distant and what happened in the Rift before you went to Abeyance."
He didn't know his world could fall apart so quickly. Everything that Medusa told him seems far away. He tries to find his voice, but there is nothing he can say or do to change reality. Maka says nothing, either; she just treads there in the darkness with him. She's only an arm's length away, but he's never seen a space so vast between two people.
Finally, Soul speaks. "So why don't you leave then?" He doesn't recognize his voice, it's disjointed and too harsh.
She starts. "What?"
"You heard me." He's never hated anything more than he hates himself. "You know the truth, so go."
"I-" A mix of anger and something else lights on her face. "That's not why I told you that I know," she says. "I want to help you."
Her words are worse than her actually leaving.
"There is nothing to help, and there's nothing to save." He should move, leave, and gulp down the potion, but he can't find it in himself to move. "All that's here is nothing."
"Well, I don't believe that." Maka seizes his hands; her skin is a pyre, but he'd let her burn him to ashes if he could. "You weren't being fair when you left, and you're not being fair now." Her gaze rakes over his face, and he meets it, in spite of himself. "I know who you are, not what your soul is."
Maybe he is burning.
Something shifts in her face, and her grip loosens. "You stayed through everything with me, so I'm doing the same with you."
An ache resonates in Soul's chest, cutting through the heat consuming him and freeing his voice. He allows his eyes to trace Maka's face one more time before he speaks.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, hands slipping out of her hold and wrapping around her wrists. He reaches through their link, all the way down to Maka's soul on the other end. It pulses so loudly in his head that it could be his own heartbeat. "But you can't."
He pushes Maka out of the darkness, pushes until he can no longer feel her at all. His stomach heaves when she's entirely gone, even though there's nothing to throw up. He doubles over, and stays like that for a long time.
It was going to end, anyways, a voice tells him, but he shoves it away.
Soul only realizes that his eyes are closed when the light presses against his eyelids, opening them to see the tiny sphere hovering in front of him. It doesn't move, nor does it transform into the scythe when he cups it in his hands.
"Please." His words are barely above a whisper. "Show me something."
It's like the light has been waiting for him to speak to it this entire time; the sphere shoots forward, then pauses, waiting for Soul like the first time it came to him.
The light takes Soul ahead in the darkness in a straight line. Unlike last time, it does not slow for him; its speed increases the longer they trek in the darkness, like it's impatient to reach wherever it is taking Soul. He follows the light for what feels like an eternity; exhaustion is lapping at his arms and legs when the sphere finally comes to a halt.
Soul rests for a minute before he draws closer to the light. It bobs in place, waiting for Soul before it rushes forward suddenly. However, the light doesn't move any further than where it is, no matter how much the light pushes.
Frowning, Soul reaches out and feels his hand hit something solid. He squints-the darkness continues beyond where he is, but there is something invisible blocking the way. His hands rove across the surface, looking for purchase somewhere, but the boundary is as smooth as glass.
Putting both hands against the surface, Soul pushes again, and finds that the surface is not as solid as he thought-it gives as he presses hard. Swallowing, Soul braces his feet like he's balancing on the side of a cliff, planting his hands further apart before he shoves forward with all of his strength.
He lets out a yell as the upper half of himself moves through the boundary. Panic rises as he finds that he is stuck, and he struggles to free himself when a howl pierces the darkness. Freezing, Soul looks around carefully; the darkness here is just as thick, but it has lost any warmth, sending chills running up his spine as he recognizes where he is.
The Rift.
It confirms at least part of Medusa's story, but Soul's main concern is leaving as quickly as he can. Before he can move, however, the same howl cuts through the dark again, and a pair of hands clamp around Soul's.
An old man with grey eyes stares at Soul. A faint rotting smell comes from his soul, but he isn't a poltergeist yet. "Help me," he rasps as the howl sounds again, much closer this time. "Please."
There isn't much room to refuse, the man's hands are like a vice. Soul yanks the man and himself backwards as hard as he can, but his body only moves a few inches back into the darkness.
Gritting his teeth, Soul digs his feet against the boundary between the darkness and the Rift, feeling himself move back across the boundary while the old man only makes it to his middle. Soul shakes the man's hands to get his attention, seeing the ripples signifying something is coming from the Rift. "You need to push."
He doesn't hear if the man acknowledges him or not-the howls of whatever is hunting the man are clear right through the boundary. Without thinking, Soul reaches for the light, feeling it transform as he shoves himself through the boundary. He only registers a sea of jagged teeth as the scythe swings above him in an arc and hits home.
The monster recoils, letting out an unearthly screech as it wrests itself free from the scythe and scuttles away.
Yanking himself back into the darkness, Soul drops the scythe and hooks his hands underneath the old man's shoulders, letting out a groan as he pulls the man free.
Releasing him, Soul hunches over, trying to control the shaking wracking through him, and manages to croak out, "Are you alright?"
Relief washes over the old man's features. "Yes, I think so," he says, moving forward to extend out his hand. "Than-"
The old man vanishes in the middle of his sentence, here, then gone.
Soul lets out a cry, expecting to hear the howls of the Rift monster, when the faint outline of a soul appears where the old man was. It lingers for a moment, and then the old man's soul disappears for good, joining the invisible sea of souls rushing past the darkness.
Moments stretch out into minutes as Soul continues to stare at the spot where the man was, feeling his world upend for the third time that day.