It was well past dusk by the time Maka made it back to the Keep, and Black*Star was already waiting for her as she touched down onto the balcony. 'Where have you been?" he demanded.
Maka drew up the excuse she'd crafted on the flight back. "You know I mentioned the possibility of an alternate plan today." Black*Star's eyes widened in recognition. "I was finalizing the details of it today. I didn't mention it because I don't want to jeopardize anything. Tell the other flight leaders to stand down - if they make a move before everything's set into place, they could destroy everything I've worked out." That, at least, was the truth. And she'd manage to spin it in a way that Black*Star would never guess what her actual plan was.
"You're sure about this?" was all he asked.
Maka almost wanted to laugh at the question. Was she sure? Absolutely not. But everything had already been set into motion, and all she could do now was try to see it through. "Yes," she said. "Tell them to stand down."
He nodded and left the room. Maka dressed down and climbed into bed, but there were too many worries and anxieties for sleep to truly claim her.
The next day's ceremony, for all the weeks of preparations leading up to it, was a relatively simple affair. A large dias had been erected at the center of the Keep, and the courtyards had filled to the brim with people from all corners of avian land, come to celebrate the crowning of their new Tuuli Thea. Kami approached the edge of the dias, lifting her voice so that it carried far over the heads of everyone there. She spoke of Maka's strength and wisdom and hope, though Maka barely heard them, so loud was the dread that creeped through every thought. Dread not for assuming the title she had been born into, but for the decision she had made the day before: I am doing the right thing?
Kami lifted the necklace she wore high - a hawk in flight, wings spread wide to embrace the sky. She settled it upon Maka's own neck, where it sat just above the pendant Blair had given her, a hawk flying from its nest.
And then it was Maka's turn to address her people. She recited the words she had practiced ad nauseum in the days leading up to this, trying her best to fill them with hope and optimism, yet remaining realistic regarding the everyday burden of the war. It was a difficult balance to strike.
Out of the corner of her eye, Maka saw Kami frown as she finished, having made no reference to her selection of alistair. Not unrealistic, but unexpected. She said nothing, however, as Sid Barret, the head of her mother's guard, kneeled before Maka. He recited the words he had said to her mother years ago. "To my Tuuli Thea goes my trust, my blade, my blood, my strength, my loyalty, and my life. Here I swear they belong to her, forevermore."
Maka thought her shoulders might cave from the weight of those words. All these people, all their lives… her responsibility. Hers to guide and lead the best she could.
She prayed she would be enough.
One after another, each member of the Royal Flight kneeled before her and took the vow, all swearing their allegiance to their new Tuuli Thea. At last, Black*Star came before her. There was a question in his eyes as he kneeled, a question Maka read easily, but had no easy answer for. "To my Tuuli Thea goes my trust, my blade, my blood, my strength, my loyalty, and my life. Here I swear they belong to her, forevermore." He looked up at her as he finished, and Maka could hardly bear to meet his gaze. All the secrecy, all the sneaking around… she reminded herself that she was doing the best for her people, for Black*Star, so that no one else might leave for battle and never return.
There was a reception after the ceremony, but the hours of celebration passed by in whirlwind. Courtiers passed by Maka in an endless blur, each offering their congratulations. Maka was half-tempted to shake them and ask if they would be feeling so felicitous if they knew what Maka had done, what she had promised. Their words of praise sounded harsh to Maka's ear, knowing as she did that they would shrivel up and disappear in few days' time.
Finally, Kami found her, and stated the question Maka had been preparing for. "You did not name your alistair."
"You remember at the war council when I spoke of a plan alternative to direct attack?"
Kami nodded.
"It only seemed right to me that my announcement of alistair should also carry with it an announcement of peace. I plan to usher in a new era where Soul Evans is not our enemy. On that day, I will name my alistair."
Kami's eyes widened in surprise. "What is your plan."
Maka shook her head. "Give me three days. I will announce my alistair in front of the court, but not before then."
Kami wanted to argue, Maka saw it in her eyes, but she no longer had the authority to demand that Maka submit. It chafed at her a little, Maka could tell, but Kami only inclined her head in concession and let the matter drop.
Hours later, Maka managed to escape the bustling courtyards and retreat to the solitary safety of her room. She changed out of Blair's exquisite black silk gown and stepped onto the balcony to watch the distant trees dance gently with the midnight wind.
She knew he was there before she heard him, but didn't turn around. "I know today didn't go how you expected it."
"I didn't expect anything." Black*Star came to stand next to her by the railing.
Maka bit her lip. "I know what the others say, what everyone has been whispering about for years. Ever since Derik died…" She trailed off and sighed.
"It doesn't matter what everyone else says," Black*Star said. "And it's never mattered to you anyway. Why start now?"
Because their lives are in my hands now.
Maka didn't realize that she'd spoken aloud until Black*Star replied, "And there are no more capable ones to be found anywhere."
"You say that now," Maka said, and Black*Star huffed a small laugh in reply. She wondered what he'd say if he knew it wasn't a joke.
"Whatever you choose, Maka," Black*Star said softly, "regarding your alistair, or anything else… I trust your judgement."
"Shows what you know," she muttered.
Black*Star shifted his weight, leaning one elbow on the railing as he turned to face her. "Hey, I'm the commander of your Royal Flight, after all. Means I know everything." He winked at her.
"Everything except how to block my roundhouse," Maka teased, her spirits lifting just a little.
"Oh come on, you know I let you have those. Can't go around beating up the crown heir all the time."
Maka scoffed indignantly. "You have never just 'let' me do anything!"
"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that." He stood and stretched. "I've got to go on patrol now, but just shout if you need me." He peered down to look her in the eyes. "Are you okay now?"
Maka nodded after a beat. "I'm better. Thank you, Black*Star."
He tossed off a jaunty salute as he walked backwards into her room. "My pleasure."
As the door shut behind him, silence fell into the room once more, but it didn't seem quite oppressive as it had before. Maka let it settle around her as she climbed into bed, and sleep soon came for her.
Maka woke early the next morning with a knot in her stomach and tension in her neck. Yesterday's ceremony had been relatively easy compared to what lay before her today.
She rose and contemplated her wardrobe, unsure of what to wear to become Naga of the serpiente court. A flash of color in the corner caught her eye, and Maka drew it out and lay it across her bed to examine it. It was a dress of deep burgundy with gold thread shimmering throughout, a perfect match to the feathers that grew at the base of her neck. The back dipped low in the back, to allow for her wings to grow forth if she required skirts were full and the rich color reminded her of the tones she'd glimpsed in the serpiente court the other day. It may not have been a serpiente dress, but Maka was not either. This would be the best she could do.
But when Maka picked it up, she discovered that it would not be quite so simple as to dress and simply disappear. The dress was much more complicated than she had anticipated, and would require another to help her.
An offhand comment from weeks previously drifted through Maka's mind then, and she quickly sent a messenger out with her request. Several minutes later, there was a quiet knock on the door, and Maka bid Blair to enter.
"You called for me?" she asked.
"I need a favor. More than one, possibly."
"Of course."
"I've been negotiating with the serpiente," she said carefully, and though Blair looked surprised, she made no comment. "The Royal Flight doesn't know, and I'm trying to keep it that way. I need to finalize something today, but if they notice I'm missing before then-"
"I thought you would be attending market today," Blair said innocently. "It's a Festival day, after all, and everyone knows you never miss Festival."
"Blair, that's perfect," Maka breathed. "They shouldn't expect to see me until tomorrow. But just in case-"
"If you're not back by sunrise, I'll be sure to tell Black*Star where you are."
Maka nodded. "Thank you."
Blair's gaze fell onto the dress spread out across the bed. "I take it your second favor involves that?"
Maka smiled sheepishly. "If you wouldn't mind."
If Blair wondered why Maka required such a ceremonial dress to visit the serpiente, she didn't ask. She worked quickly, and it was merely a matter of minutes before Maka was dressed and prepared to leave. "Thank you again, Blair."
Blair smiled. "Good luck."
Before Maka left, she quickly penned a letter to Black*Star and left it on the trunk at the foot of her bed. It outlined the plans Maka had made, as well as details regarding her whereabouts and intentions for that day. You may come find me, if you want, it said, but you understand that you cannot come seeking a fight. I have arranged all this so we might finally have peace, and none of can afford for that to be disrupted. I'm not entirely certain when the ceremony will end, but I will return when I can.
Maka's reception at the serpiente palace was much warmer than it had been before, but that wasn't saying much. She was met by a pair of female guards who led her silently through the meandering halls until they reached the hall where she'd met Soul. As they walked, Maka wondered a little more about the palace, and what she might find should she wander down any of the side halls. Considering what she was about to do, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that she might one day find out.
The heavy wooden doors of the hall swung open silently, revealing a pacing Soul and Camille and Eloise Evans sat at a large table in the center of the room. Soul dismissed the guards and waved Maka inside. "You remember my mother, Eloise," he said. "And my half-sister, Camille."
"It's nice to meet you officially," Maka said, nodding at them.
Camille smiled, but Eloise managed to look down her nose even while seated. "I've heard a great many things about you," she said, heavily implying that some of the things she'd heard were not necessarily complimentary. Maka tried to remind herself that they were likely just as unsure about this as she was, but she did notice Soul shoot his mother a slightly exasperated look.
"Should I expect the Royal Flight to be kicking down our doors any minute?" he asked instead, deflecting attention.
Maka shook her head. "They won't expect me back until morning, but they'll know where I am then."
The doors to the hall opened a crack, enough for Anya to poke her head through. "Soul, you're needed for a moment."
Soul's eyebrows shot up. "Am I really? What could the guard possibly need with me right now?"
Anya's stare turned venomous, as though she held Maka personally responsible for Soul's reluctance. "I need to speak with you, please," she said through gritted teeth.
"Then speak." Soul waved a hand openly.
The silence that followed was one of the most awkward Maka had ever endured. Finally, Camille stood and whispered something in Soul's ear, gave him a meaningful look, and pushed him towards the door. "Just go talk to her," she said. "Mother and I can prepare Maka."
Soul paused, shot Maka a look she couldn't interpret, then left the room, the door closing with some finality behind him.
"Well." Camille huffed a breath and put her hands on her hips. "I don't envy him right now."
Eloise sniffed, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in her dress. "She has a right to be upset, you know."
"I never said she didn't," Camille said. "But there's nothing she can do about it now."
Maka looked between them. "I think I'm missing something."
Eloise looked at her in a way that suggested there were several things Maka was missing, and she wondered how someone could so perfectly convey such complex thoughts with just one expression. Camille, however, took pity on her and explained, "There was… something of an understanding with Anya. She hasn't been afraid to make her feelings on this arrangement known."
Maka's eyes lingered on the doors to the hall. If Soul's guards, the ones most loyal to him and his throne, were this opposed to the pairing… she could only imagine how his people as a whole would react.
Camille must have caught wind of some of her thoughts, because she gestured for Maka to join her at the table. "We're all trying to wrap our heads around this," she said. "It's just taking longer for some of us."
Maka nodded, and Camille turned to the matter at hand. "Now, today's ceremony will take place in the synkal - our public meeting place where every event like this is held. Soul may not be as popular as Wes was," she swallowed hard at the memory of her half-brother, but continued on before the pause could linger, "but there's a lot of whispers going around about Soul's selection for Naga, so it's going to be full today. Initially, you'll be separated from everyone, but as a part of the ceremony, you will be expected to walk among them."
Walk freely among the largest gathering of serpiente she'd ever seen? Without any of her guards there to look after her? Maka felt a little faint at the prospect.
"There's no getting out of this," Camille said, making sure to look Maka in the eye. "I don't know how it is with avians, but serpiente rulers are supposed to meet with their people, to walk with them, to be open and personable. You will have to walk among them, but there aren't any weapons allowed in the synkal, and you'll have Soul's guards with you. You'll be safe from any unhappy zealots."
Maka was sure she'd already broken out into a cold sweat. This was too much, this was more than she'd bargained for… but hadn't Soul agreed to the exact same thing? He'd have to come to the Keep in a few days, surround himself with just as many avians who would likely look at him the same way the serpiente outside would look at her. How could she ask that of him if she was unwilling to do the same?
"The guards will look out for anyone likely to start trouble, but…" Camille looked to Eloise, as though debating her words.
"Our kind do not accept political marriages, or matches made for any other reason outside of love and affection," Eloise said flatly. "If our people sense that Soul is happy, that he chose you out of love and his own free will… well, they might not like it, but they'll accept it. If, however…"
Camille picked up again. "From what we understand, it's very different for you. Some amount of distance and formality is expected in every aspect of your life. But that isn't how it is for us. Rulers are open and friendly with their people, expected to show every emotion they feel. It's something that, to be honest, Soul has struggled with."
Eloise shot Camille a sharp look, but was swiftly ignored. "I'm only telling you this because he's not going to ask anything of you, but that could be dangerous for you not to. You will have to convince our people that this is a match of love, not convenience, or they will never accept you."
Maka's mouth went dry, her hands fidgeting anxiously in her lap. It was one thing to agree to marry Soul to broker peace, another thing entirely to pretend that the arrangement was something entirely other than what it was. But if the consequences for not doing so were this severe…
"Some fear might be expected," Camille continued. "You are, after all, standing up in front of a people your kind has warred with for centuries. But I think some will think you brave, as well. Especially if we tell them that you haven't even let your own people know, and that you're committing to this without their approval. That you're willing to stand up in front of them before you've convinced your own people to accept this."
Maka finally found her voice, though it came out hoarser than she would've liked. "But I haven't done that."
Camille waved a hand. "Even better. If we can present this match the way we want to, as a story of star-crossed lovers, then our people should be able to accept it."
"What - what should I do?"
"Get closer to him than five feet," Eloise said bluntly. "You'll need to stay by his side, touch his arm - you know, things any young lovers might do."
"Mother," Camille chastised.
"I'm only telling her what would be expected," Eloise defended.
"No, I understand," Maka said. She ran her hands over her lap, trying to smooth out the wrinkles she's put into it while gripping the fabric. "I appreciate your honesty." She looked Eloise in the eye and said, "You're correct, this is a different way of life than I'm used to. But war is also a lifestyle I've grown up used to, and it's one that I'm trying to move me and my people out of. If that means taking on a little discomfort, then that's fine by me."
Something a little like respect glinted in Eloise's eyes. "When Lord Death suggested this idea, I was horrified. I could not contemplate such a possibility, but you and Soul…" She shook her head. "I do recognize your bravery, Maka, I do. To come here, to be willing to bind yourself to the heir of your enemy… I do not think it is a sacrifice I could make."
What could Maka say to that? The only thing she could think of was, "This choice, to end the years of fighting and bloodshed? I would make it again in a heartbeat."
And strangely, despite all that she had heard and all that would be expected to her today, the words had never tasted truer.
Maka felt a little differently about those words two hours later.
Her stomach churned so heavily it made her a little dizzy. How could she walk out there, onto a dias that looked not too dissimilar to the one she'd been crowned Tuuli Thea on, in front of hundreds of serpiente who would surely rather see her dead than Naga. And the only ones between her and them would be guards sworn to protect Soul - not Maka.
This felt less like a leap of faith and more like a plunge off the side of a cliff, with no end in sight.
The cue she'd been told to wait for came, and before she could rethink her decision any more, she stepped out of the antechamber she'd been waiting in and onto the raised speaking platform, where Soul had just been addressing his people. She heard the crowd before she truly saw them - their shouts, their whispered questions - but the loudest sound of all was the shocked silence.
Soul's hand was reaching out to gesture to her, to urge her forward, and though she knew he wasn't expecting her to take it, she did anyway, if only to keep hers from visibly shaking. He looked startled for a moment, but there was barely any hiccup in his speech, which Maka could barely even hear through the panicked buzz filling her head. She tucked herself into his side, another support to try and keep her grounded. Finally, Soul finished with, "Allow me to introduce you all to my Naga, Maka Albarn."
The guards, scattered throughout the crowd and placed strategically around the dias, were the first to kneel. As they had all been introduced to her earlier, they had been expecting this surprising announcement, and there was no hesitation to their movements.
Their actions seemed to remind the others gathered of what was expected, and soon the rest of the synkal followed their lead - except for a few who remained standing.
One of them, an older man, simply stared in shock. "Arthur?" Soul asked, and at the sound of his name, the man looked around, looking even more startled that he was one of the few left upright.
"But - but she's a hawk!"
Soul looked back to Maka, scanning her up and down with amusement. "Is she really? I must confess I hadn't noticed." Despite his playful tone, Maka though she heard a tension there she couldn't quite explain, thought she saw something a little forced in his eyes. But in the next moment, it seemed to disappear, and Maka reminded herself that for all the negotiation they'd done, she'd actually spent very little time in Soul's company. She was fooling herself if she thought she could read him at all.
As Soul spoke, another serpiente kneeled, leaving only three standing.
"Soul," Maka said, her voice pitched low enough that only he could hear her. "Not everyone is going to accept this."
Soul turned his face closer to her, and it suddenly struck Maka how they must look to everyone. Her cheeks burned, but she forced herself to remain steady and tucked into his side. "I know," he replied. "But if we allow a few to openly reject it, that opens the door for others."
As he pulled back, his lips just barely brushed her forehead - the tender gesture of a young king in love. One of the three knelt, leaving only Arthur and a younger woman. "Arthur, if this is jealousy speaking, Maka's not the only beautiful hawk out there." He reached a careful hand up and brushed a stray hair out of Maka's face. She almost wanted to roll her eyes at his theatricality. Soul must have caught the intent on her face, because his lips twitched as he turned back. "You're welcome to find your own."
"This is insane," the woman cried, looking back and forth between them. "Soul, you can't be serious."
"You're right, Gen, it is," Soul said, his tone still light. "To think that Maka was willing to leave the safety of her home, to walk into the synkal despite the wishes of her family and her people, to be willing to sacrifice everything to be my Naga…" He lifted their intertwined hands to his mouth, making sure that it only appeared as though he kissed her skin. His words and expression bled with sincerity, and coupled with his continued respect for her personal boundaries, despite the charade they had to put on… Maka was oddly touched.
When they turned back, Gen was fighting back a smile. The tale Soul and Camille had decided to spin seemed to be working. Gen dropped to one knee, and a moment after, Arthur followed suit. Maka wasn't foolish enough to think everyone had accepted the match outright, but it was encouraging to see a lack of open rejection.
A flicker of movement near the back of the synkal drew Maka's eye. Anya ducked between two guards stationed near the back of the hall and out the door. Aryn watched her go, shook his head, and resumed his scan of the crowd.
Soul pulled away from Maka, but kept their hands entwined as he presented her to the crowd. "Naga Maka Albarn," he said. "Your people."
The full meaning of his words hit her as she took in the crowd still kneeling before her. This marriage - they were truly uniting their peoples. His would become hers, and hers would become his.
He stepped forward, and the stillness was broken. There was a flurry of movement as all who were kneeling stood. Two guards came up to flank them as Soul led her to the edge of the dias and the stairs that led down into the throngs of people that filled the synkal. They stepped down, and all at once Maka was surrounded by her new people.
What struck her first was how differently the serpiente moved. Like liquid silk, spilling from one motion into another with a graceless effort. They crowded against one another, ducking past one and slipping around another. Everywhere she looked there was another person, looking to greet Soul and give Maka a calculating, chilly stare. Some dared to reach out to her, perhaps curious of the feathers they saw peeking from her hair, but Soul always managed to catch them before they could, coldly reminding those that forgot that Maka was avian lady unaccustomed to casual touching.
"She seems to accept touches from you," one countered skeptically, eyeing the hand Soul had constantly been keeping at her elbow.
"Because she's my Naga," Soul said slowly. "I should hope she'd accept my touch."
The group around them laughed, and after a brief pause, the man who spoken joined in. "Fair enough," he said, the the group melted away, only to be replaced by another who wished a closer glimpse of their new Naga.
Soul seemed to know exactly how to handle each and every serpiente who approached them, his countenance shifting back and forth faster than he could assume his serpent form. Playful, serious, diplomatic, melodramatic… the changes seemed effortless. But the longer they stayed within the crowd, the more and more that approached, the more it seemed to wear on him. The changes were difficult to notice, but his shoulders began to droop, the creases under his eyes became more pronounced, and his gestures became a little more lackluster. He was certainly able to play the part of warm, engaging ruler, but it didn't look like it came easily to him.
Finally, hours after Maka had first stepped out onto the dias, the crowds thinned, and the ceremony shifted from a reception to a late night feast. Everyone took their places, Maka grateful for the chance to sit and rest her aching legs. Soul, too, seemed thankful for the slight reprieve.
The rest would only be physical, however, for as soon as they sat down, one of the serpents a few seats down from Soul asked, "Where's Anya tonight? It's unusual to see you here without her."
Soul's gaze darkened, then cleared in a split second. "I'm afraid she wasn't feeling too well," he lied smoothly. "She's retired for the evening and Aryn has taken over her watch."
"Will Aryn lead Maka's guard, then?" another asked.
Soul shook his head. "The Royal Flight will continue to serve Maka, as they always have."
Someone choked on their drink, but no one paid any heed as all eyes turned to Soul. "Are you serious?" someone asked. "You can't let them into the palace!"
"Why not?" Soul asked evenly, but there was an edge to his voice that hadn't been there before. "Maka is Naga, and entitled to her own guards."
"And we're just supposed to let an entire flock invade the palace?" a serpent scoffed. "I can't-"
Soul rounded on the man speaking, his gaze so forceful that the man's words died in his throat. "You're certainly welcome to take whatever actions you see fit to deal with it," he said coldly. "Only be aware that I will be forced to take actions that I see fit, namely, charging you with treason and bringing down the punishment suitable for a crime of that nature."
All the blood had drained from the man's face. "Of course," he said shakily. "I didn't mean - I wasn't-"
"I'm sure you weren't," Soul said calmly, taking a sip of wine. "Now, unless anyone else wishes to protest, I believe we have a meal to eat."
The meal was rather uneventful after that, with lighter topics tossed around as every guest ate their fill. It was almost dawn by the time Soul and Maka took their leave and he led her out the synkal and back into the palace. Maka was so tired she gave no notice of where he was leading her. They'd decided earlier that it would be a bad idea for Maka to go back to the Keep immediately after the ceremony, and she was thankful for it now - if she'd tried to fly home when she was this tired, she'd likely fall right out of the sky. As it was, she had to lean partially on Soul as they walked, and she thought that maybe he had to do the same.
They entered one of the many rooms of Soul's suite where Maka was to stay that night. Sleeping clothes were laid out on the bed. Maka held them up to her and was surprised to find that they were her size exactly. When she asked Soul how he knew what would fit her, he only shrugged and said, "From Blair."
Maka gaped at him. "Blair?"
"Of course."
Maka remembered how quickly Blair had agreed to help the day before, how she'd been the only one to bring up that day with Wes on the killing fields, and the surprise seemed to fade as quickly as it had come.
"Um… she did mention that the dress can be a little unwieldy," Soul said, a dusting of pink coloring his cheeks. He shifted his weight from side to side in a nervous gesture. "Do you need help?"
Suddenly he wasn't the only one blushing. Blair was right, of course, but Maka wasn't about to let Soul assist her the way Blair did. "Only with the tie at the top," she said. "I can manage the rest."
She turned around, her breath catching in her chest as she heard Soul's quiet footsteps cross the carpet. His fingers brushed against the back of her neck gently, pausing as they reached the feathers there. The tie loosened, and Maka managed to slide the nightgown over herself as she stepped out of the dress, ever conscious of Soul behind her.
Maka folded the dress and stored it away, but when she turned back around, Soul was still there. He opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it. "Good night," he said, then turned for the doors leading deeper into his suite.
Camille's warning from earlier that day - or yesterday, now - echoed in her head, and Maka stepped forward, one hand reaching out. "Wait-"
Soul paused, one hand on the door. "Yes?"
"Camille said…" She trailed off, unsure how to ask the question. "Your people need to think this is a love match, right?"
Soul's expression clouded. "Maka, I'm not going to-"
Maka held up a hand to cut him off. "I know you're not. That's not what I'm saying. But if your guards learn that you spent tonight in your own room, and they spread word of that… it could jeopardize everything we've worked for."
From the look on Soul's face, he knew she had a point, and yet he still looked torn.
"We're both exhausted and could use the rest. Just… stay here for tonight. Just sleep."
Soul thought about it for a moment longer. Finally, his shoulders slumped in acceptance, and he let go of the door. Maka turned away, her face still burning at the words she'd spoken - true, but no less embarrassing. She avoided looking at him as she climbed into the bed, which was piled high with the softest pillows and blankets she'd ever felt. Settling in, sleep began to creep over her almost immediately. Vaguely, she heard the rustling of fabric and felt the bed dip as Soul climbed in beside her, though it was large enough that they didn't touch. Soul stretched, his arm brushing up against Maka's shoulder. After such a long day filled with more touch than she'd experienced for years at the Keep, her nerves were overexposed and frayed, and so she flinched involuntarily at the contact.
Soul must have felt her tense because he moved away quickly, before Maka could apologize or explain. She might have spent a moment to feel guilty, but she was too tired, and sleep was too alluring.