"DAMN, HER CHEEKBONES ARE DEEPER THAN HER INSECURITIES!" Blackstar cackled, throwing his head back in sadistic joy as he laughed.

Soul echoed his laughter, looking back up at the small T.V. "That's so cold, man. But you're not wrong." He glanced at Maka, who was glaring in disapproval. He grinned mischievously. "She has more plastic in her boobs than all the plastic in her trash can she calls a house."

"Nah, I feel like she would live in a recycling bin." Blackstar replied casually.

Soul nodded in agreement. "True, true."

"You guys are awful." Maka grumbled, pouting softly. "You've been doing nothing but talking bad about random people on T.V for the past five days."

"What else is there to do? They only have like, three different shows and they're all the same episode." Soul turns to her.

"You don't have to make fun of them."

"Yeah, but it's way more fun!" Blackstar pipes up.

Maka huffs. Tsubaki turns to Maka from her seat in the corner, smiling nervously.

"They can't hear them, don't worry, I think it's good they have their heads up." Blackstar smiles at her widely.

Maka relented, burying her nose back into her book. "Fine, do what you want." She paused, as if thinking. "Yknow, Kid never does this stuff like you boys."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blackstar shot a glare at her, though he still grinned.

"Oh, nothing." Maka waved a hand. She didn't tear her face away from her book, hiding her small, mischievous smile.

"What are we talking about?" A new voice cut in.

Everyone turned their head to see Kid leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. His eye no longer had a patch, though it was half-shut and bruised, the whites of his eyes a fading pink. They greeted him in unison, and he stepped inside the small hospital room, followed closely by the Thomson sisters.

"Hiya, guys!" Patty cried happily, waving wildly. She flew over to Soul's hospital bed and plopped stomach first onto it. "Hello, recovery-boy!"

"Recovery-boy?" Liz asked, pulling her sister off of Soul's bed by the back of her shirt.

"It's like birthday boy!" She happily replied, standing on her own.

Kid rolled his eyes. He sat on the edge of Soul's bed, glancing at him. "So how are you doing, recovery-boy?" He asked casually, causing Patty to gasp happily and Blackstar to chuckle.

Soul also chuckled, sitting up straighter. "This recovery-boy is doing a lot of recovering."

"He means good." Maka clarified, finally putting down his book.

"Well, that is good. A sudden wound like that...can't imagine what it's like." Kid glanced out the window.

"It sucks."

Kid smirked humorously. "Naturally."

Blackstar stood. "At least he's not being a grumpy ass about it like he was, uh, I dunno, all of last week?" He shot an accusing glance as he grinned at Soul.

"If you woke up as had a giant slash on your body, you'd be grumpy too, asshole."

"No I wouldn't, because I'd never let that happen, I'm not as weak as you!"

Tsubaki looked extremely disapproving. Blackstar faltered. "Though, even the strongest people seem weak compared to me!" Well, that was the Blackstar way of saying; "You're not weak, Soul." Tsubaki decided to take it, her expression softening.

Kid scoffed. "That's why you got yourself handed to you last week."

Blackstar pointed straight at Kid. "First of all, it's 'ass handed to you', and that doesn't count! He was all possessed and shit!"

"Excuses, excuses." Soul teased.

Liz crossed her arms, almost seeming to hug herself. "Speaking of...did anyone ever find out what happened to all those crazy people?"

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Soul pressed his lips shut, Blackstar glared at the ground, Tsubaki just looked nervous, and Kid glanced at each of them anxiously. Everyone seemed tense, say for Patty, who simply looked around at their expressions curiously.

Maka was the first one to speak. "Well...there are theories...apparently all of the...effected spoke about demons and 'deals'. The main explanation right now is that they all made deals with the devil in exchange for power...and it made them demons." Judging by the descriptions, the behavior, and the sudden outbreak, Maka knew that this was, in fact, the real explanation. Well, except that they made deals with demons, and not the devil. 'The Devil', more commonly known as the King of Hell among angels and demons, was a recluse, and probably didn't even have the ability to make deals. But, humans seemed to like blaming him for many things, so he was the easiest to pretend to point the finger at.

"That's ridiculous, they're mad." Kid frowned, crossing his arms again. "There's no such thing. It's probably a mass mania."

"A mass mania wouldn't really explain all the claws and red eyes and shit." Soul countered. "That's pretty demonic if you ask me."

Blackstar nodded in agreement. "I thought my Pa looked like a demon. I mean, I don't believe in that stuff, but he totally looked like a demon if they were real."

"Well there has to be an actually logical explanation, and not just demons." Kid argued, standing. "I mean, if there is somehow demons and otherwise running around, we're screwed." Kid dropped his arms to his sides, watching everyone's reactions.

"Maybe humans finally pissed off Satan enough!" Patty said with a giggle, seeming happy despite the dark subject matter.

Blackstar laughed, "I wouldn't be surprised! Humans suck!"

"True." Said Soul.

Kid nodded. "At least we can agree on that."

Maka also nodded. "For sure. Humans ruin literally everything."

Both Patty and Blackstar laughed, along with a grin from Soul.

"Yeah, we all suck." He drawled.

Tsubaki interjected, though quietly. "I think humans can be the kindest creatures, too."

"Yeah. Maybe." Maka said immediately, lifting her legs up to join her on top of her chair. Humans really were something. She'd met the most kind and evil creatures in her time, both of which were usually human.

Kid sighed lowly, finding a nearby wall to lean against. "I will never understand people."

"Me neither."

Maka couldn't help but see the irony.

"Alright!" Blackstar suddenly boomed, jumping up on the bed, causing everyone, say for Kid, to jump in surprise. "Enough depressing shit! Let's talk about something WAY better and WAY less depressing!" He paused for dramatic effect, though no one was really excited to hear his answer.

Well, except for Patty. "OOH, OOH, IS IT CHRISTMAS?! THE LAUGHTER OF CHILDREN?! SMALL BABY ANIMALS?!" She was practically jumping up and down.

Blackstar pointed at her strongly, wide grin. He gave a single chuckle. "No!"

Patty pouted. "Oh."

"ITS ME!" He yelled, pointing to himself with both thumbs.

"How did I see that coming?" Kid mumbled lowly.

Maka giggled at the obvious sarcasm.

Blackstar jumped down from the bed, hitting the floor as loudly as possible. "Probably because you're secretly my number one fan!" He then pointed accusingly at Kid, who's dumbfounded and utterly irritated expression caused everyone to laugh.

"...no offense Blackstar..." he began after recoiling from the shock, "I would sell you to Satan himself for half of a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich if I had the chance."

Blackstar looked angry, and everyone chuckled out again. "Hah! I'm worth more than that! In fact, I'm priceless!" He proudly puffed up his chest.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Kid rolled his eyes, scowling.

"Y'know, you're really starting to get on my nerves! You must clearly still be blind in that fucked up eye of yours, because only a blind man couldn't see how awesomely amazing I am!"

"Well, I say the blind man is more lucky than me. He doesn't have to fucking look at you." The two of them glared at each other for almost a solid minute.

Tsubaki had to get up and try to sway Blackstar to calm down, who has now apparently made it his mission to get Kid to take what he said back, who obviously wasn't going to.

Maka giggled softly again, watching the bickering and nervous, motherly pleads for peace from Tsubaki. The two boys didn't really seem mad at each other, in fact, they had both begun to grin at each other, more aggressively playful than anything. She knew that Blackstar couldn't be offended by anything anyway, so he was clearly just putting on a show.

She glanced at Soul, who was smiling and shaking his head. Then she moved to Liz and Patty, who were laughing to each other, watching the conflict between Kid and Blackstar with amusement.

She was glad things were a little less depressing. They were just seven friends looking out for each other.

The only thing that bothered her was the suffocating feeling she was being watched.

Maka couldn't help but smile as she pushed Soul along in his wheelchair, nearer and nearer to the front doors.

She was smiling, but she was still incredibly anxious. Humans were so fragile. "You know not to do anything too strenuous, right?"

"Yeah, you've only told me, uh, I dunno, a million times?"

"I'm just worried about you, okay?"

"Maka, the worst that could happen would probably be that demon showing up again, and that's not gonna. I can handle a little bit of walking. I'm a big boy, I tie my own shoes and everything."

Maka sighed exasperatedly. "I know you can." She tried to joke, "but you know you really shouldn't talk about the thing in public."

"No one's even near us, and besides, who's listening? I'm just being realistic."

"Let's just go over this at home, okay? This is supposed to be a good moment, right?" She offered a small smile.

He returned the smile. "Yeah. Sorry."

She stopped pushing him along about eight feet from the front door, stepping in front of him. "Well, you ready to go home, Soul?" She held out her hand. Home. Once that word was strange for her to utter, for the land in the clouds was her home for a long while. But now? Earth was her home. Being with her friends, being with Soul...that was home.

He grinned wide, taking her hand. Their hands locked together, Maka pulling Soul to his feet.

He stumbled at first, but soon stood up straight, proudly. "Yeah. Of course I am. I miss the damn trash hole."

Maka laughed, filled with actual happiness, something she hadn't really felt since the day Soul got hurt. Even the good moments, laughing with her friends, seeing them all sleeping wherever they could in Soul's hospital room until they were inevitably kicked out, seeing Soul smile, were clouded by guilt. By shame, sorrow. She had let her best friend get hurt, and now, without her weapon, she was helpless to really protect him. But he was okay. He was okay, and smiling and for god's sake walking, and it felt like everything was going to be okay. They were going to go home.

As long as she still had her home, her friends, and Soul...well, Maka knew that it would be alright.

Soul slung his arm around her shoulder as her laughter died down, clumsily stumbling out the front door.

Neither of them noticed, Hell, even could notice the sickly yellow-red eyes watching them through blonde locks.

Medusa kept her head down, pretending to focus on the documents in her hands, as she watched the pair of merry friends leave the hospital. She could sense the angel's soul, even as she walked farther and farther away.

She could feel it in her very being, so tangent she could smell it. It stung in a strangely sweet way in her nostrils, and what she could only describe as the purity of the color white itself had become a feeling, an indescribable sensation that choked down her throat, down to her chest. This angel had a very strong soul, that was for certain. Though, admittedly she did not need to sense her soul at all right now to know exactly where they were,

She couldn't keep the small smirk off of her lips as she casually set her documents down, telling her 'coworker' that she was taking a break. She placed her hands into the pockets of her labcoat, thumbing the empty syringe that had previously held black blood.

It was unbelievably easy to sneak into Soul's room at night, and even easier to plunge the needle into his arm and inject the dark substance into him. He didn't even stir in his sleep, she had noted. With the blood in his system, she could always know where Soul went. When she focused, she could even feel the blood pulsing through his veins, feel his heartbeat along her own skin. Black blood was her own creation, and therefore it belonged to her and her only, giving her a free access to one's very soul.

Feeding off of soul wavelengths were not uncommon for demons, in fact, it was the only real way to regain energy. Typically demons can only feed off the wavelengths created when a soul is in distress. Angels could do similar, except they could only feed off positive emotions. Medusa did not envy having to live off of such rancid happiness for her entire existence, the mere thought disgusting her. As the years went by, a loophole was found that made feeding much easier. If an angel or demon created an artificial being of their kind with their own blood, they could feed off of that soul until it died. Truthfully, if this didn't happen, artificial demons and angels would be much less common.

Though the black blood did not contain any of Medusa's blood, she still found it surprisingly effective when injected into Soul. She had her suspicions, but would soon confirm or invalidate her theory. The most logical explanation, was clear to her.

Soul was most likely already an artificial demon.

Even before Medusa got to him, he would be left vulnerable to demon blood, more so than a human, and it would explain his rather strange appearance. She was surprised she didn't notice the tinge of hot, almost spicy feeling she got when she focused on his soul, the feeling greatly resembling that of a pure-blooded demon.

Later that night, as she ran his red blood, not yet tainted by black, through countless tests, she finally got the truth.

She smiled. She was never one to make a bad assumption. This time was no different.

She had a lot of research to do.

Crona had been curled up in a corner, in fact, the corner of her mother's laboratory, not even having the energy to lift their head and watch their mother work.

They had seen so much violence in their life, so much blood. Red plagued every thought in their head, matching perfectly with the hell that resided there.

So why, they wondered, why did seeing that boy's blood bother them so much?

Guilt creeped into their veins, pricking and piercing like growing vines of thorns, black as their own blood. They haven't felt real guilt in so long. So why...? Why did seeing that angel cry hurt them, made their soul ache? Why were they hurting? They had no bruises, no cuts, but oh god, it still ached deep inside.

"Crona."

They slowly lifted their head, which almost seemed to be a thousand pounds, their blank, dark eyes meeting the slits of their mothers'.

"We're going to improve you. Stand up, I have something for you."

Crona felt deep dread tie together their innards, but they obeyed automatically. Good children always listened to their mothers.

They were lead to a rusting operating table, one they had not donned in years, but they definitely did not miss it. They sat on the edge, eyes locked with the wooden floor.

Medusa took one of their arms, riding up their long sleeves. She pressed the end of a modified syringe she had made herself against the inside of Crona's arm, right where their forearm and bicep met.

The syringe's needle was shot forward with great mechanical strength, piercing their veins before the blood within them could even begin to harden.

"This is curtsey of that angel. Without her, you would never have been able to receive this upgrade. Angels aren't so useless after all, hm?"

Crona didn't respond. The liquid that oozed into them was shiny, metallic, almost like mercury.

They panted as they felt the liquid seep into their arm, burning worse than any fire could.

They screamed, and Medusa didn't stop.

"Jesus, Joseph and Mary." Blackstar whispered lowly, staring at the long, shining blade than had embedded itself into the brick beside him, just mere centimeters from piercing his skull.

He was walking to Soul's and Maka's, planning to surprise them with a movie night with snacks. His cheap, plastic shopping bag full of movies, candy, and chips had fallen to the ground just seconds before.

His body reflectively froze, overtaking the rational, trained part of his kind telling him to fight.

Upon closer inspection, the blade was clearly a Japanese traditional Katana. What appeared to be Latin words was carved into the hilt, though he had absolutely no idea what it said.

"You, there, with the blue hair. You're star clan, aren't you?" A low, powerful voice overtook Blackstar's mind. He whipped his head in the direction of the sound.

The man was tall, grayish-blonde hair falling past his shoulders and whisking in the gentle wind of the cold night. His eyes were fierce, yet strangely calm.

Blackstar felt like he already knew him, like he was family, or a close friend. His very soul seemed to be magnetized to the man, who did not seem to bear any affection for him. His body betrayed his mind and took a step towards his attacker.

"Star Clan? Why would someone as great as me even need a clan?" He spat, "I don't know what you're talking about, old man, but you've got some nerve."

"I suppose I shouldn't have asked. I already know you are Star Clan, judging by that tattoo on your shoulder alone."

Blackstar clapped his hand over the aforementioned star symbol. He had been born with it, at least, he had always had it. No one believed him when he told them. "What are you talking about?"

The man shook his head, reaching to his back. There laid a giant, overly large metal sheath holding dozens of katanas. The man drew a single sword. "You don't even know?"

"Know what?! Start making sense, old man!" Blackstar shouted. He never knew anything about his heritage, his father never once even tried to tell him, it had deeply frustrated him for too long. Just another thing to hate about his father.

"The Star Clan was a group of demon hunters, all connected by blood. For years they worked to cleanse the world of demons, and after centuries, their very souls were preordained to slay demons, like mine is as well." He gave Blackstar no time to think before continuing, "but in the end, they all followed the path of the demon, the very thing they had first sought to fight. Your father was the second to last member to die. You're the only one left, and I'm here to stop the madness before it happens. I am the demon hunter Mifune."

Blackstar's roaring green eyes widened. "What did you say about him?" At first his voice was shocked, almost fragile, but he then broke out into a furious scream. "WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!"

"Your father is dead, if that's what you mean. I found him attacking an innocent human, so I fought with him. He inevitably lost-" he was cut off by a wild scream, and Blackstar charging at him, intending to punch him.

He missed by a long shot, Mifune simply throwing him against the nearest concrete wall.

Blackstar looked up. "You killed him." He never liked his father, that much is true, but it couldn't stop the rage that came with knowing that the only real family he had was gone.

"I did. He gave up his humanity for power to a demon. There was no saving him."

"You expect me to believe that crap?! Demons are fake, asshole! Fictional shit that people make up to scare people into being a good person!"

"They are all too real. What did you think happened to your father? Whitestar was never the most stable of people, and with this mass appearance of demons recently, it's no surprise he gave in. You haven't seen one because I've been working day and night to keep this streets rid of them." He pointed his shiny blade at Blackstar. "You haven't been corrupted yet. You're still close to human. You at least have humanity. Don't be stupid. Don't follow the path of the demon."

"What do you mean 'close to?'" Blackstar spat.

"You're not all human with that demon hunter blood inside of you. Your very soul is made to reject demons. You have that tattoo- that glamour, and it's clear you have no idea how to use it. You're not a human Blackstar. You and I are not human." He paused, staring at the confused boy. "But that doesn't mean you have to become a demon." He sheathed his katana, turning away and beginning to walk away. "I expected you to be more...well informed. For now, I have no reason to kill you. But if I even suspect you're following the path of the demon..." the turns back, shooting a stony glare at the boy as he slowly stood. "I will."

Blackstar watched him walk. Normally, he would have ran after him, demanded he explain everything, but even Blackstar had his limits. His mind was too fogged to even behind to run. For the longest time, he simply stood there, his hand automatically holding his tattoo.

He stared off into space, his peripheral vision blurring and warping.

He didn't even bother picking up the bag full of things he had originally gotten for Soul, as he walked away, pulling out his phone to call whoever he could to see who was actually awake to give him a ride home. He checked the time.

1:37. Blackstar cursed. Time seemed to speed. How long had he been standing there, just trying to process this? For one, Tsubaki was definitely not awake. He decided to just call everyone that was in-town on his contacts until someone picked up.

He bit his lip almost thirty minutes later, nearly his entire contact list ruled out. He was almost ready to give up, having just given up on calling his high school best friend, Kilik. He'd skipped the name before. Kid's contact. He sighed, tapping his name.

He actually picked up, on the second ring too. "Blackstar, it's late. Why are you calling me?" Kid did not seem pleased, though he didn't seem to be at all sleepy either.

"Why are you awake?"

Kid clicked his tongue. "Touché. What do you want?"

"I'm somewhere downtown by myself and I don't have a car. I honestly can't be bothered to walk home so I need a ride."

"I thought you were supposed to be the workout junkie."

"Well, I am, but...some weird shit happened and I'm kinda freaked out."

Kid paused. "What kind of weird stuff?"

"If you come pick me up I'll tell you. You have a car, right?"

"Yeah." Blackstar could hear faint footsteps and a door close. "I'll be right over there. Where in downtown are you?"

"By the gas station that happens to be next to a fireworks warehouse."

"Is that even legal?"

"It's legal in like, Kansas, but probably not here. Can you imagine the fucking possibilities?" He grinned to himself.

"I think I know where you're talking about, but just in case, you might want to get comfortable." Kid seemed uneager to answer Blackstar's question.

Blackstar sat down on a nearby curb. "Great. It's cold tonight, can you like, hurry?"

"I can not show up at all if you want to be a brat." He almost sounded like a mother scolding her child, and he could practically hear the scowl Kid surely had.

"Just show up, will you?"

"Fine, hang tight." Kid then rudely hung up, causing Blackstar to scoff.

He sat there for a while, finally working up the energy to collect the discarded bag and it's scattered contents. He cracked open a Red Bull, chugging it.

He ran out of things to do after twenty minutes, deciding to play kick the (Red Bull) can with himself. He glanced up as a black cat pulled up next to him.

Kid rolled down the window, leaning out. "Get in."

Blackstar chuckled, kicking the can as far as he can. Stepping around to the passenger's side, he grinned at Kid. "Thanks, though I could do without the sass."

"That was hardly sass." Kid had a pitch-black hoodie on, which was weird for him as he usually wore completely formal clothes. Blackstar guessed that he was wearing it because it was late.

"Just drive, will ya?"

Kid didn't argue further, the car weaning forward once more. "Where do you live?"

"Pretty far, actually. Can I crash at your place?" He rubbed the back of his neck.

Kid glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "First you use me as an Uber, now you want to sleep at my house?" He didn't sound angry despite what he was saying.

"It's one night, don't get pissy."

"I'm hardly upset." Kid calmly replied. "My ability to care is substantially repressed right now, so you might as well." Blackstar shot him a questioning look. "I haven't slept in like, eight days."

"Dude, how are you alive?"

Kid smiled faintly. "God, I wish I knew."

Their conversation ended there, and the car grew silent. Blackstar felt slightly claustrophobic, more suffocated by the weight of what he learned that day more than anything.

He grabbed the chest of his shirt, gripping and twisting it. He didn't feel sad his father was gone. No, it wasn't that he was sad that the man who had flat out abused him for his entire life was gone...A part of him, just somehow felt...lost. He didn't have the faintest idea what he was going to do after this. He couldn't stay in the house, could he?

The bigger problem, the one that made Blackstar chew his lip loomed over him.

He wasn't really human. That Demon Hunter, that Mifune...if he was right, then what could he really do? There didn't seem to be anyone else in the world that could understand. He had more questions about himself than he ever had, and for the first time, Blackstar doubted himself.

Not too much, though. This was still Blackstar. 'Regardless if he's right or not...' he told himself in his head, 'I'm still amazing.'