Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the horrible plot.

Erm, anyway, random fluff(I think?) that doesn't make much sense(unless you know what I'm talking about—but I doubt it).


In the depths of the night, he was all that kept her sane—sane in the world full of insanity. No matter what had happened that day.

Some nights they would whisper secrets to each other, talking for hours.

Some nights they would just sleep in each other's arms, content.

Some nights she would weep in his arms, crying for those they had lost that day.

Tonight was one of those nights.

(They had lost two people that day, a young, inexperienced pair, they had charged the witch, they had overestimated themselves, and underestimated her)

It was ridiculous, right? She was crying to him, he who had the heaviest burden of them all. But she couldn't stop herself.

Maybe it was because she had married him.

Maybe it was how his strong arms wrapped around her.

Maybe it was because she loves him.

Maybe it was because he knew her best.

Maybe it was because he loves her.

Maybe it was because she had to keep up a façade in front of everyone. She was their unshakeable leader, she was the Death Scythe Meister, possessor of the purifying wavelength, wielder of soul perception, owner of a Grigori soul, the wife of Death.

So many maybes, but she told him of her true emotions.

Not her weapon, not her best friends (but then again, wasn't he her best friend too?), him alone.

Like the seasons changed, so did the world, after a while, a Kinshin God was born—that was two years back. Since that day they had lost countless comrades, and failed to save even more innocents.

As always, her tears stopped, and she looked up into the face of the man she had married.

He was looking at her with the same tenderness that he had always had, golden orbs shining, the soft smile he always reserved just for her, and skin slightly flushed(just slightly, so it was near invisible).

"Sorry Kid," Maka apologized to her husband, brushing away the last of her tears.

"You know, you keep calling me 'Kid' but we have two of our own now," Death the Kid(or simply Death, as he was now called) teased his wife.

"Yeah, but I guess I've just gotten used to it," she replied, unperturbed, and inched her way closer to him.

"Did you know you cry symmetrically?" Kid asked her softly.

"Oh? Pray tell, how do I cry symmetrically?" Maka whispered in a relatively playful tone.

"You cry a tear for your sadness, and you cry a tear for mine," he whispered back in his rich baritone.

She let loose a laugh that chimed like bells.

He smiled.

Then they stayed up till dawn, debating on how he had become a "romantic sweet talker". Because, really, they knew what the other really meant, and that was enough for them.


Okay, stupid, yes I know.

Did you catch the little things I hid in the text though? ;D