Title: let it be
Summary: sometimes you marry the wrong person.
Paring: Kid/Maka, Maka/Soul.
Author: From the Sock with love!
Length: 1,421
A/N: I wonder where the heck Pippin got the chapter title from?!!! ZOMG!? (Also, we are working on all your requests! Seriously, I have even done that MedusaMaka one Anon asked for...yeah. Can has love please?)
"You look beautiful Maka," Marie coos, watching the child spin elegantly on her podium where all he can see is a snowstorm of white and blinding realisation – so much so he has to start breathing deeply through his mouth.
(She looks wrong.)
"You really think so Marie-sensei?" the girl mutters as she nibbles on her bottom lip, twisting a runaway strand through her pale fingers, golden ends kissing the band now embedded there.
No.
"Yes! He's a lucky man," she blushes and twirls some more, accepting yet not liking the praise and attention directed her way.
"What do you think?" it takes him a good few minutes to realize they were talking to him, even more to tear his eyes from the faded wall and stare at her.
"…breathtaking," her cheeks flood with colour and his stomach contorts with emotion he's not quite used to.
It feels a bit like defeat.
Swallowing to clear his painfully dry mouth, he nods – yes. Breathtaking.
Soul doesn't look again.
"She doesn't love him."
He stares at the frail woman before him, as if seeing her for the first time.
"He'll make her happy…" he mutters, not daring to let her in any further than the doorway – he felt exposed enough as it was in the dingy corridor with the lights the flicker and neighbours that hiss.
"That's not the same," Liz croaks, "it's not the same-" breaking she begins running an unsteady hand through her matted hair and Soul wonders if she'd said any of this to Kid, then remembers he wasn't supposed to care.
(Not anymore.)
"He'll keep her safe, it's for the best," he lists robotically and Liz's eyes suddenly sharpen and she recoils as if he stuck her.
"Tsubaki was right," she seethes, "this was pointless."
She slams the door; Soul catches the plaster rain in his hair and pretends he can't hear the sobbing.
Black Star did not care for cowards.
He punched Soul, hard, twice in the face and once in the stomach. Bringing the pitiful weapon to his knee's and spitting as the boy didn't even attempt to get back up again.
"…are you done?" Black Star grips the boy's hair, twisting it in the palm of his hands and brings their faces so close he could count the others eyelashes.
"She's miserable Evans, he's given everything and you're going to let it all burn out of some petty jealously," the scythe doesn't react and Black Star drops him in disgust.
"He'll protect her," (like I couldn't) for a second the assassin's eyes tear a hole in the weapons soul with the raw pity then he picks up his discarded bag and gives the boy a indifferent stare.
"Pathetic."
It starts to drizzle.
Soul never looked right in a tux, he looked too much like his (beloved) brother and as he stared into the remains of his mirror he realized he looked a bit like a monster as well.
"Hi Maka…"
"Soul?" her voice is like a breath of fresh air and something tugs at the corner of his mouth, then he remembers he shouldn't care and his expression falls once more, "I'm so happy – to hear from you!"
She does, a dark part of his mind whispers, she sounds like she was waiting…
"Yeah well…" he is torn, again, he shouldn't be doing this…"it's been nice speaking with you-" he goes to hang up the phone, feeling foolish for even trying.
"Wait!" He does so, cursing all the while.
"Yes Maka?"
"I've missed you Soul," too sincere, you shouldn't have cared. It would have been easier if she hadn't of cared…
The silence, obviously, unnerves her.
"Did you miss me?" if he closed his eyes he could picture her – so he wrenches his lids open and stares at the static.
"…a bit," (agonisingly, yes.)
"Oh…" he programs out the disappointment, "are you coming to visit?"
"I…" he could see it now, her face lighting up and her stupid smile as she runs to- "no."
"Oh…Kid said you wouldn't."
"Oh?" he fails to keep the malice out his tone, "what else did (darling) Kid say?" she doesn't quite voice her hurt but when you merge souls with a person, you know reactions well.
"He said…he said you needed time," Soul tried to picture it, once more, Maka and Kid…but as usual the image never came…all the materialized was a blank space where his heart should have- "Soul…you are coming to…to the…the-"
"The wedding?"
"Yes…"
"…we'll see…" she giggles and Soul feels his heart to a funny little jig.
"Funny."
"Oh?"
"He'd told me you'd say that as well," Soul imagined Kid had taken a leaf out the 'all knowing shinigami' book. Maka laughed, he did not realize he said that out loud.
"I hope you're happy, together I mean…" there is an awkward silence.
"I'm…happy…" she whispers eventually and Soul remembers to breathe.
"Really?" he berates himself for the stupid question, wants to throw the phone now to end his own selfish sadism.
"Yes. I am happy," there is conviction in her words, she is, miraculously, happy. His failure did not change that…
"Good." Liar.
"Soul…?"
"Yes Maka?" why did he suddenly sound so hopeful? He wasn't supposed to care.
"Are you?" his chest constricts and his tongue is suddenly glued to the lid of his mouth, "Soul?" she sounds worried, he doesn't like it when she sounds worried, "Soul I have to go now…Kid is back…"
He listens to the dial tone till morning.
The chairs are arranged perfectly, eight running horizontally every side, 888 in total, he would know, he counted them.
Guest after guest, laced up to keep up, dash past him, not even looking at him as he remains glued to the plastic (and slightly damp) chair.
It is only when a woman he doesn't recognise sits next to him does he realize what is about to happen.
"She's beautiful you know," the stranger begins conversationally, Soul scoffs. Maka was never anything but.
"Of course," he grumbles instead, "the bride is always-"
"I was referring to the maid of honour," she gestures to a flushing Tsubaki and Soul taps a furious rhythm on the chair, looking anywhere but at the altar and woman next to him.
"…Soul."
"Kid…?" he doesn't look the same, he realizes, it had nothing to do with the joined sanzu lines, height increase or mob of security he had chasing around after him.
He looked…ill.
"We missed you at the rehearsal," you look ready to keel over…you are slurring as it is-"sorry for the reception, I tried to stop them." He doesn't need to say who.
"You…you look awful," he mutters, unable to help himself and to his shock Kid manages to pull off a wry smile.
"You are not one to be talking," he quips and for a second they are thirteen again and Soul is about to push the annoying death god down another hole for getting their collected soul's banned.
Then a bridesmaid accidently nudges the weapon and they are both back, Soul is burning and Kid is fading.
"You…are you alright?"
"It's hard, getting married to someone who doesn't love you. It apparently does not agree with me…" he says it so bluntly that even the eaves dropping old women jerk violently away, Soul looks away to, afraid of what he'll see if he turns back.
"Just…just take care of her alright…" Kid smiles and Soul's stomach twists, the gesture was not a friendly one.
"A weapon can do that," he chirps, "without a wedding band."
Maka is blinding with her faintly flushed cheeks, delicately curled hair and flowing dress that hugs her in all the right places. She takes Kid's hand in her own and nobody fails to notice the duo flinch.
Nobody had died. Soul wanted to spit, so why are so many in black…
"We are gathered-" Kid leans down, whispering something and subtly gesturing at the baited crowd and a smile of pure joy illuminates the girl…woman's face. He pretends he doesn't see the obvious glances thrown his way, tries to sink into the mass of formality.
He had his chance…
"Speak now or forever hold-" there seemed to be more people staring at him now, he could feel the glares on the back of his neck searing a hole into his brain.
He wanted not to care.
"I do," Maka whispered, Soul tried not to break.
Kid cupped her cheek-
"No you don't."