In Which A Flower Dies
Kishins started coming in groups of hundreds.
Maka and I were killing them five at a time.
Eventually Kid sent us students from the DWMA to help, once it became too dangerous for two people to handle.
Seven students shorter than Soul.
They must have been the best students of their grade because they kept up with me and Maka. They could have been much worst.
The last time we saw Blackstar and the gang was eight months ago around spring time. It was a grim meeting.
"I'm sorry," I said looking at the flowers in my hand.
Blackstar just nodded staring off into the distance.
I heard Maka crying to the side.
"I told her I loved her," Blackstar choked shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "Before..."
He closed his eyes tight trying to stop the tears streaming from the side.
I took my hand not holding flowers and wrapped him in a half-hug.
"You're so gay Soul," he said crying.
I didn't respond and just patted his back.
Blackstar pulled from my embrace and said, "Better tell Maka before-"
"I have," I said, cutting him off.
Blackstar held his hand up and I clasped it.
"You're too cool man," he said smiling sadly and he left to talk to Kid.
I watched Maka leave the gravestone and fall crying into Liz and Patty's arms.
I walked up to the gravestone, holding the flowers tighter.
"I'll miss you, we'll all miss you," I began, staring at the freshly laid dirt. "A lot."
I stopped hoping for more to say, but so many thoughts came rushing to my head that I couldn't pour them into words.
The flowers that I held bristled in the wind. I bent down to place them with the pile of the same flowers laying by the gravestone. A cold harsh feeling was left in my empty hands as I stood up and walked to Maka's side.
As a camellia petal floated from the gravestone to rest near my shoe, I had just began to realize how scary things were going to be.