It's so cold. The wind rips the scarf from his face, blasts him with its numbing breath and effectively freezes him to the seat. His motorcycle snarls beneath him, seemingly as eager to escape the outdoors as he is. The single bright headlight cuts a straight path through the darkness, lighting the way. Soul grits his teeth and hunches lower over the handlebars. The cold front wasn't supposed to blow in until the early morning hours, according to the news. He snorts derisively. This is the last time he trusts the weatherman.
It had been a long day at the office. He'd had to stay late because some assholes had decided it would be a wonderful idea to hack the bank's computers. One million dollars had been stolen, and Soul and the rest of the tech department had been glued to their chairs all day trying to patch things up. Soul's eyes burn with tiredness. It's eight o'clock at night. Line after line of computer code still swims before his eyes. More than anything, Soul is looking forward to shedding his clothes and collapsing into the warm softness of his bed. His lids droop even further just imagining-
his eyes are blown wide and the lights, they're dazzling, like twin suns. they fill up his brain, push out every thought until there's nothing but white white white, and it's strange because the moment before cold metal meets warm flesh he feels so intangible, like it'll just pass right through him, like
(there's a bend in the road here, very sharp. he can never see round it because there's a wall of trees blocking the way. maka always grips him tight and squeals be careful! but he laughs at her because it's not like they're gonna die or anything)
the moment of impact is hardly registered. there's perhaps a muffled crunch and then suddenly soul's flying, body twisting in cold cold blackness, weightless. but he is not a bird and he falls, hitting the hard earth with bruising force. somehow he's on his back. violent afterglows pulse across his vision. he breathes in, or tries to. it hurts to breathe. slowly, gingerly, he lifts his left arm, since he can't feel his right. he probes his chest. he's wet. soaked. he licks his lips. they taste like copper.
Soul swallows.
This wasn't how he imagined it. He thought dying was going to be slightly more spectacular, at least, than a startled inhalation and a thump. The corners of his mouth lift at the sheer stupidity of it all. Maka wouldn't be very happy. He can just see her now, shaking her head, tut-tutting. Soul, you should know better. If you'd just been paying attention, none of this would have happened. What'll I do with you, you silly shark man?
He laughs, but it hurts to laugh. He can't stop, though, and suddenly he's coughing. Something warm and wet flies from between his lips.
(not much longer)
His working hand gropes in his pocket, closes around something small, cold. His phone.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Maka."
"You missed our date. What happened?"
"Some idiots decided to hack the bank. One million, all gone. Kid's merciless. I couldn't get away till now."
"Ouch. You okay?"
"Yeah. I'm still alive, at any rate."
Maka laughs, light and tinkling. Soul's eyes slide shut.
"Well, tell you what. I'll go over to your place and make you something. Sound good?" she asks.
"S'okay. I'm not hungry."
"What are you talking about? You're always hungry."
"Mmm. Just stay at home, kay? I don't wanna keep you waiting."
"Oh, you're still at the office? I don't mind."
"I do."
"You're silly."
He smiles, softly. "Hey, Maka?"
"Hmm?"
"I don't think I've ever told you this. So, uh, lemme just put it out there: I love you. I love you so much."
"Aww, Soul. I love you too. Hurry home, okay? You sound really out of it."
"Yeah. Yeah. I'll be there in a sec. See ya."
"Bye."
The line goes dead. Soul opens his eyes. The stars wheel above, smeared in afterglow, and the longer he looks the brighter they get, until the night sky is white and blinding like headlights and Soul is swallowed up.
(it's okay, though. at least he got to say goodbye)
