A Maka for All Seasons
By DarkAngel
Disclaimer: I don't own it. Atsushi Ohkubo does, though. I don't own the story about the rabbits, either. That's from The Rabbits' Wedding by Garth Williams.
Author's Notes: After three chapters of emotional trauma, I thought Maka deserved a break. xD So this is… well, not quite fluff, but a romantic change of pace? I suppose?
…ugh. I'll be honest here. I'm not feeling at all confident about this piece. Comments and criticism would be gratefully appreciated.
[10. Last & 09. First]
Maka honestly didn't think the day would come when she would be in a situation like this. She's never attended a wedding before, much less been at the centre of one. And yet, here she is, on the big day, in a white dress (which thank Shinigami, isn't made of ten billion layers of lace and ruffles and beading; Maka once read somewhere that dresses were made so elaborately because the sheer weight of the material would keep the bride from running away should she have second thoughts – thankfully the only really elaborate part of her dress is the cape, which she isn't wearing right now anyway).
It's a good day for a wedding, Maka reflects as she looks out her bedroom window. It's practically a cliche, and would be a crime in Maka's books if she wasn't in the mood she was in. As it stands, the sun is going to reach its zenith in a couple of hours; there's not a cloud in the sky, and there's even a light dry breeze tickling her cheeks; she feels a slight tickle as strands of hair flutter against her neck.
Today is the last day she'll go by the name Maka Albarn.
She twists the ring on her left wedding finger, watching it catch the light. She smiles as she remembers the way Soul had given it to her, half grumpy and nervous. He had never looked so endearing as he had at that moment, all pretence of being cool long abandoned as he'd gotten awkwardly on one knee, half-scowling at her in his anxiousness.
There's a sound behind her, and Maka doesn't need to use Soul Perception to know who it is. The figure comes to a stop beside and just behind her, placing a hand around her waist.
Maka's never subscribed to the old belief that it's bad luck for the bride and groom to meet before the wedding. Soul himself has never been all that superstitious to begin with.
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see his hair, ruffled by the breeze. Of its own accord, her mouth twists up in a smile. "Hey Soul, did I ever tell you about my favourite story when I was a kid?"
He shakes his head, giving her a curious glance.
"It's about two rabbits who always used to play together. There was black rabbit and a white rabbit. They were best friends, you know." She twists a lock of her hair before letting her hand drop; Liz and the others spent a lot of time that morning setting it. "Anyway, the black rabbit would sometimes get this really sad look on his face. And when the white rabbit asked him about it, he would always tell her that he was just thinking.
"One day the white rabbit asked him what he always thought about, and why he always got a sad look on his face when he did. And he told her that he knew there was going to be a day when they grew up and they were going to have to part.
"Neither of them wanted that. So they got married. They lived happily ever after." She grins at him, and he grins back.
"There was a time when I lost faith in that story. Children's stories are just children's stories; that's what Mama said. And Papa ended up abandoning Mama. But…" She reaches out a hand for his. Their fingers link together. "I believe again." She doesn't have to tell him the reason. He knows just as well as she.
"Do you remember when I went to talk to your dad because I wanted to propose?" Soul looks up at the sky. "Well, you know your old man better than anyone else. He did the usual. Screamed. Cried. Threatened to kill me. Tried to say no." He laughs, a short sound. "But in the end he gave in. Do you know what he said to me then?"
Maka shakes her head, mystified. She's always wondered how Soul had won Papa over.
"He said that as long as I'm your first and last, he'd give us his blessing." Soul's gaze is intense, burning into her with his resolve. "That's a promise." He gives her one of his rare smiles, the ones without any trace of irony or sarcasm or bite. The ones he reserves just for her. "Sometimes, things work out just like the storybooks say they will."
It's a cheesy line, coming from him. He seems to realize that, because he looks away. Maka squeezes their still linked fingers and closes her eyes when she feels him squeezing back.
It's the last day she'll go by the name Maka Albarn.
It's the first day of the rest of her life as Maka Evans.
She can't ask for much better than that.