Maka's POV
No. No. NONONONONONO. Crona is not dead. Crona is not gone. Crona is not lying before me, laying in a bed of his own blood, letting loose his last breath between my trembling lips. His hands aren't loosening his hold on my own; his heart hasn't stopped thumping along with mine. This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't. Happening.
I pulled my lips regretfully away from Crona's own, a silent sound passing from tightly bound teeth, one of my cold, seemingly lifeless hands reaching forward to caress one of Crona's blood-caked cheeks. My Crona. My Crona, that's laying here in the blood that I let spill, all because I didn't notice Medusa's arrow a second beforehand.
Another stifling sob tore its way through my lips, my shoulders hunching forward, my fingers clutching to the hand that held my future in their nervous palms. He was doing it to protect me. My head shook, my trademark pigtails following the movements fluently. Don't tell me that after all this time, I'm the reason behind Crona's upsetting demise. Don't tell me, that after everything we've gone through, everything we've done… It's all for nothing, simply because Medusa doesn't have a heartfelt cell in her false body.
My eyes clenched shut tightly, this swimming like tadpoles floating through my eardrums. My fingers were clinging onto Crona's hand, my head playing with the thought of my calloused fingertips being able to pick up his heartbeat, to let it ring through his broken veins and resonate at his toes. My thoughts were jumbled into this impossibly small cardboard box, poking and prodding at my frontal lobe, scenes and instances of Crona, Crona and I, Crona, Crona, Crona. The thoughts were leaking, screaming, clawing at the cardboard walls, and the tadpoles in my ears were turning into huge bullfrogs that sounded like the scream that's loosed from my lips too many times. This isn't happening to my Crona. I didn't let this happen. No, no, Maka, he's dead because of you. You let this happen. He's lying, dead, melding into a pool of his own blood because you are the worst girlfriend in the world. The only one… The only one… He's gone. Crona…
When passing over it, I'm not really sure what happened next. I knew that I was screaming some morbid version of Crona's name, my blood pumping through my veins faster than it had in awhile. I could hear a quiet mumbling that sounded like Soul's voice thrumming through my brain cells, but I couldn't comprehend the idea of stopping what was flowing through my bones, my anxious feet responding all too quickly. My pupils were dilated to little dots, my death glare passing over my shoulder in her direction. It's her fault that my canary can't create broken and beautiful disasters with her nervous cuckoo. It's her fault his heart has ceased to pump blood; it's her fault that I won't have a hand to hold anymore. It's her. Fault.
Medusa.
I could feel the rage and utter heartbreak fueling the palms of my hands and the fingertips that correspond with them as I gripped my weapon close to my chest, tears still spilling down my cheeks, Soul's voice doing nothing but urging on the quiet darkness rumbling underneath my skin. I knew what was becoming of my hard-as-steel yet fragile-as-glass teenage body as another blood-wrenching scream made its way past the slippery prison of my lips. My feet met hard and cold-hearted concrete in what sounded like an earthquake, my hands gripping Soul so tightly I could feel his eye twitch in frustration.
Soul's pointless screams and demands for me to calm down were being devoured by the bullfrogs and the roaring lions chasing zebras in my hands and feet. The darkness was growing, louder and louder, more and more demanding. I knew this feeling. I knew what these tendrils of menacing snarls and vicious howls were entailing. I knew that the demon with teeth just like Soul's was slowly overtaking my body, my veins singing with blood that certainly wasn't meant for organs like mine.
In my subconscious, I knew that what was happening was wrong. After all the time that I've been dealing with the black blood, I shouldn't let it overcome me when I was afraid or broken… But, my Crona was dead back there, and I wasn't able to do anything to ease his pain or to even stop it from happening.
I could hear my feet creating grand canyons in their wake as I pounded my way to Medusa, that evil, vile little creature that had torn my cuckoo's heart out and had stomped, smashed, smushed and shoved until there was nothing left except for aching cries that would never reach anyone's ears but mine. Her snide sneer as I neared her just fueled the demon residing in both me and Soul to smash through this barrier, causing another bone shattering scream to reverberate through my inner chords.
I was nearing Medusa, my feet growing light and feather heavy when, suddenly, I was met with a soul force I knew all too well.
I fell, a great shake following after, the demon being forced back into his little room that was programmed into my brain, along with my weapon's.
The last words I heard before I slipped into unconsciousness belonged to Soul's heavy, extremely male, voice.
"You're such an idiot, Maka."