A rapid knocking woke Maka up the next morning, surprising her. Opening the door, Maka blinked in surprise at the man standing in front of her, the same one from yesterday, his hands shoved in his pockets and back hunched as if he were still half asleep, though from the way his entire face drooped, she wouldn't have been surprised if that were the case - the young man looked absolutely exhausted. A half-smile split his face and he beckoned for Maka to follow as he started slouching down the hall, ambling pace slow enough for her to catch up, despite him never looking back to check if she was actually there.

She grabbed her coat and followed him, not knowing if this was a good or bad sign, having no idea where they were going. Their footsteps echoed together as they walked, an interesting beat created from the contrasting rhythms, though not unpleasant by any means. Maka glanced out every window that they passed, straining to build a mental image of the layout of the castle and its grounds without being too obvious. The duo passed many doors, all of them arched and undecorated save for an iron symbol nailed to the top, probably a marker of who lived behind it or what was inside, though Maka didn't recognize it, despite knowing a couple different languages.

She considered whether it was worth it to ask the man, but it didn't seem like he'd be inclined to answer anyway, and Maka didn't feel like aggravating her captors right before she might be set free. After a couple more minutes of walking, with Maka lagging every few seconds then running a bit to catch up to his easy, constant pace, the two stopped outside another unremarkable door. Maka glanced at it curiously, a question in her lifted eyebrows as she looked at the man. He smiled slightly and opened the door for her, gesturing for the girl to go in. As she stepped inside, Maka felt her jaw drop open.

The room was gigantic and circular, the entire ceiling made of glass held together with elegantly twisted metal. Ladders on wheels were attached to the bookcases that covered the walls, as even someone tall wouldn't be able to reach the top. Groups of comfortable-looking couches and armchairs were scattered across the library, small tables accompanying each huddle. The girl spun around to stare at the man in shock.

"Why?"

He looked back at her for a moment, eyes soft but murky, hiding the truths submerged in their depths that his smooth face didn't dare reveal - an enigma to all.

His voice, when it came, was low and lazy, sounding bored beyond belief. "Stay in there," he ordered quietly, smoothly ignoring her question, mumbling a sentence that had "something to do" in it, though the edges were hazy and she couldn't make them out. Maka wasn't sure what it was, but something in the man's slouched figure rang false, a chink in the armor that belied his nervousness. She nodded despite herself and stepped through the doors into another world, smiling at the sheer amount of literature before her.

Maka might have heard an amused laugh before the door slid shut, echoing through the library.

Every footstep made a noise, bouncing of the walls musically. Whoever had designed this place had understood acoustics well. Pulling out the first book with letters she recognized, Maka hazily sat into an armchair, nearly missing, so engrossed was she in the book.

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"What do you think, Lord Death?"

"I remember a time when my Crowmen didn't question me so often, to be frank," he joked, grinning at the woman who stood in front of him from behind his mask. She simply raised an eyebrow and leveled him with a bored stare, resignedly waiting out the pleasantries Lord Death insisted upon to finish. "Alright, alright, down to business," the man agreed. "What are you asking my opinion about?"

"The buffoon's daughter and her role here, of course," the woman answered, annoyance clearly growing. "Why haven't you told her anything?"

Lord Death knit his fingers together into a fist, resting his hands on the surface of his desk. "We have discussed this many times; don't disrespect my old friend like that, though I will not argue that he can be… difficult, and his charm, for lack of a better words, is an acquired taste. Are we clear?"

"As always, Lord Death."

"I want to avoid telling Maka as much as possible, for her sake. Though in this case, it may become unavoidable, for it would be cruel to leave her in the dark until we catch the rogue witch, which can take months at this rate, unfortunately," he sighed. "Spirit is still missing, sadly enough, and the other bases don't seem to be making much more progress than we are in searching for him."

"I see. Thank you," the blonde woman finally answered, bowing before leaving the room, the door closing behind her with a solemn click.

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Maka woke up abruptly, scared for a moment by the darkness that enveloped her before understanding that she must've fallen asleep at the library. Standing up, she stretched out her stiff muscles, noticing for the first time the blanket she had dislodged onto the floor and the bowl of soup standing on the table next to her, a cloth covering it so that it wouldn't get cold.

Eating, she stared in confusion at the blanket. Why were the people who attacked and kidnapped her treating her so well? All that was required for a ransom was a living prisoner; nobody was required to keep her so well-fed and happy. Maka didn't seem to be free to roam about the castle as she pleased, but they were definitely putting in some effort to making her comfortable. Any conclusion she could come up with didn't make sense. Getting up and walking around, the blonde rekindled the oil lamps, and the library became warmly lit, illuminating the man who led her here curled up on a sofa where she hadn't noticed him before. Surprised, Maka reflexively turned down the lights again, afraid of waking him up.

Immediately heading towards the doors, Maka struggled to open them, hoping that they would be unlock, through some miracle. They weren't of course, and though she did consider trying to knick the keys off of him or threatening the man, Maka probably wouldn't stand a chance if he could transform into the same type of monsters as that… blue creature. Best not to anger him then. Looking upwards defeated the idea of climbing out a window - there were none, and the ceiling was too high for such an attempt to be feasible.

Sighing, Maka walked back to the armchair and settling down on the blanket. Noticing the man's hunched shoulders, she groaned with defeat and stood up, blanket in hand as she cautiously approached him. Gently laying it on top of him, Maka scurried back to the chair, thoughts already flying through her head on how to escape as she busied herself with a book, pretending to read for whenever the man woke up. Frankly, she should probably have been more alarmed or worried to be sleeping in the same as one of her captors, but there seemed to be more to this than she was aware of. Why would they take such good care of her if it was just for a ransom? Besides, she wasn't one to forget a favor.

When he woke, the man was flustered and blushed a bit, but accompanied Maka back to her room regardless, the two slowly starting up a conversation along the way, the man proving himself to be interesting and... charismatic in his strange, unique way. She was delighted to garner a surprised but real smile from him when she bade the man good night. Once inside, the girl ignored her bed and instead started planning, determined to escape. Whatever happened, however nice the people were, she was still a prisoner, and that couldn't be allowed to continue. It didn't matter that they seemed to be kind at times, the reality of her situation didn't escape her.