Freefall
by. Poisoned Scarlet

16a

Hiro stroked his thumb over the glossy surface of a photograph. It was creased and worn from the many times he had folded it up and securely stored it in his wallet after burning her smiling face in his retinas. The image was fading now, her emerald eyes washed out to a dull green. But her smile was just as radiant as ever – but it didn't match the radiance of how she smiled now.

His eyes flickered up when the metal door of her apartment complex swung open. He watched her dig around her book bag briefly, checking and rechecking her school supplies, before she swung a leg over the classic motorcycle parked on the curb. She was followed closely by Soul, who ignited his bike and glanced into one of his side mirrors as he always did in the morning.

And, as always, Hiro scowled back, catching glimpses of his mocking grin before they left for Shibusen U.

Instead of cursing him in his mind, Hiro resignedly glanced back down at the photograph. It had been taken a long time ago – during the beginning of their courtship, when everything was fabulous and she smiled at him as if she cared. Now he only saw contempt and distrust in her eyes and it hurt him more than he'd like to admit.

Hiro folded the photograph for the hundredth time, left to his loud thoughts. How long had it been since he'd taken to watching her from a distance? It was supposed to be the other way around, Hiro thought sourly, she was supposed to be watching him from a distance. But the conceited thought collapsed at her memory. Maybe he had made a mistake, to treat her so carelessly, maybe he should have held onto her a little tighter.

But it's over now, Hiro thought bitterly, Soul flashing behind his eyelids. I don't get it. What is it about that guy that she likes so much? He looks like such a dick with that stupid motorcycle and his retarded white hair... Hiro rested his chin on the wheel, burning with jealousy. His fury ebbed to a quiet annoyance as he glared out of his window-shield.

Then his phone rang; a familiar number flashing on the screen.

It was the girl he had been seeing for the past few days: Tsugumi Harudori. She was a nice girl – with wide, onyx, eyes and a cute, beaming, smile. Her hair was tied into two high pigtails as well and she wasn't as outgoing and flamboyant as the girls he usually dated. She was similar to Maka, but not the same. This girl was more sweet, more outgoing, than Maka had ever been.

Maka was daring, bold, and courageous when the situation called for it. Tsugumi was rowdy and fun daily; not against trying new things, if a little immature for his tastes. But she was a few years younger than him, so he expected her to be a little wired on energy. This would be the first time he dated someone younger than him as well...

"Hello?" Hiro answered, flatly. His tone improved somewhat upon hearing her tinkling laugh. "I'm just... getting some coffee." He glanced back down at the photograph clenched in his hand. "Yeah, sure, I'll see you in twenty. Bye." He snapped his phone closed and tossed it back on the passenger seat, stroking his thumb over Maka's photograph.

She was out of his reach now. She had been out of his reach the instant she confronted him at the bar and threatened to break his bones if he tried anything on Soul. He was sure, after that stint with the cops, Maka would break his bones if she ever saw him again. He hadn't meant to call the police on Soul (not really) but he had been so enraged, so confused, by her blatant rejection that he had simply picked up the phone and spilled confidential information to them.

Hiro had a feeling he knew why Soul was still a free man but he pushed the thought away, going back to stroking the worn image of his ex-girlfriend. It didn't matter anymore; it shouldn't matter anymore. It was as Maka said: they weren't together anymore. They had their own, separate, lives now. They could only wish each other luck and disappear from the others lives until fate intervened.

He had been about to leave to meet up with Tsugumi when his phone vibrated again. He flipped it open, staring at the text message that stared back at him:

I hope you don't mind homemade pizza! 'Cause I tried making it :D It tastes pretty good! Umm, I think...

A smile twitched on his face.

He shut his phone and contemplated the last picture he had of Maka.

Before he could change his mind, Hiro tore the image in half. He felt regret swell in his throat instantly but he did not stop until the picture was nothing but bits and pieces of its old self. He lowered the window and, fist outside, hesitated. His eyes strayed back to his phone, to the sheepish text message sent by Tsugumi, and then a flash of her laughing smile appeared in his mind.

She may not be Maka but he felt something for that girl; something soft, sweet, that he had once felt for Maka but never let develop until it was too late.

Maybe this time it would be different.

He watched the pieces of Maka's image flutter away down the street, caught in a whirl of air.

Hiro drove out of the neighborhood with a weight lifted from his chest, deciding that pinning after a girl who had already sold her heart – be it to a boy or the devil himself – was a waste of time and more than a little creepy.

16b

Maka was freaking out.

Soul didn't need to know her personally to know she was freaking out on him.

He watched as she paced back and forth in their living room, muttering under her breath and glancing at the clock fervently. Soul was sprawled on the couch as usual, entertaining himself by watching his girlfriend blow things completely out of proportion once more.

"...can't believe mama told me to ask papa to pay for my ticket...ugh, asking him for money..." She mumbled to herself, stopping and tugging on both her pigtails in exasperation. "I'm screwed! We're screwed!"

"Maka. Cool it. Your moms not getting married tomorrow – you still got time." Soul drawled.

"We have three weeks, Soul!"

"We still got time." He insisted.

"No, we don't! We have to buy the plane tickets, I have to get my dress fitted for the wedding, and you need to buy a suit and – mama wants me to be there a few days early so I could help with the preparations and I still have to turn in work for Professor Stein – !" Maka groaned and rubbed her temples to stave off an oncoming headache. "There's too much going on right now! We need to get the plane tickets by next week at most, but the prices are so high right now..."

"Maka."

"And Professor Stein won't excuse me if I go to my mothers wedding! He'll still expect me to turn in the work! My grade is going to suffer so much..."

"Maka!"

"And the dress – everyone else already has their dress and mama bought her wedding dress months ago! I'm the only one who's left – !"

"MAKA!" Soul snapped, effectively snipping her train of thought. "Come here."

"Why?" She asked, suspiciously.

Undeterred, Soul held out his hand. "Just do it." At her narrowed-eyed look, Soul rolled his eyes. "Maka, just trust me and come."

She approached him cautiously, taking his outstretched hand and not resisting when he pulled her into his lap. He rested his chin on her shoulder and his arms wove around her waist. His soft touch was enough to calm her and pay attention to what he had to say without interruptions.

"Your dad called while you were asleep." Soul began. She stiffened but he didn't pause. "He said he'd buy the ticket for you and your mom doesn't have to pay him back – all you have to do is call him and he'll order it."

"He knows about mama's remarriage...?" Maka whispered, apprehensively. She had hardly spoken to her father after her confrontation, but the times she did speak to him, he was determined to smother her with fatherly affection. It eased the resentment that had fueled her for the past few years when she caught his genuine smile directed at her – not one of his lady friends or girlfriends. "I never even told him about it..."

"He found out a while ago. Probably why he didn't drop by anymore." Soul guessed.

"So he's willing to buy us our plane tickets?" Maka perked up, wanting to avoid speaking of why he hadn't been dropping by to bug her anymore.

"He's buying your ticket."

Confused, she asked: "But what about yours?"

Soul snorted. "You swear he's gonna' buy my ticket, too. That guy hates me."

"What – no! You need a ticket, too! You're coming with me!" Maka insisted, turning her body to face him. Soul looked his casual self; not too concerned about this change in plans. It annoyed her greatly. "Then are you going to buy your own ticket? Papa can spare an extra four hundred – he's got nothing else to waste it on except girls and drinking!" She added, bitterly.

"Maka, it's cool, I'll just buy my own ticket." He dismissed.

"But—!"

"Seriously, it's not cool for my girlfriends dad to buy my ticket for me." Soul muttered, moodily. "Even if he did offer, I'd probably turn it down."

Maka watched him for a second before slumping against him with a stressed groan. Her arms came to wrap around his neck and he adjusted her comfortably on his lap. She dropped one hand from his neck to his chest, feeling the scar beneath the material of his shirt. She always thought he was lucky to have survived – if he hadn't, she would have never met such a wonderful person. She sometimes thought that if the wound had taken his life, she would probably still be with Hiro; still crying over him, hurting over him, miserable and heartbroken.

She owed a lot to Soul, Maka realized.

Maka shifted up and, without warning, kissed him.

"What was that for?" Soul asked, bewildered but pleased. She merely buried her face in his neck, pressing her lips against his pulse. With a soft snort at her ridiculousness, Soul sunk into her embrace and listened to her soft breathing against his neck.