Disclaimer: Not mine~
Author's Note: It's finally Spring Break! I'm so excited. Haha. I get a whole week off, and I can now write more creatively (between all the homework I have, anyway...). Less essays to deal with. So, here's another drabble. Sorry it took a while for me to update! I really ought to try and think of a oneshot...
Thanks again for the reviews and alerts! I appreciate it! ^^
Ironically, her father told her about the legend of the red thread; a man who seemingly had torn his quite some time ago. Of course, as he told the tale, he left out that little important detail and explained that his still kept him tied to her mother.
Maka didn't believe him, or the story. It just seemed absolutely ridiculous as she thought on it now, especially coming from someone so unfaithful to his "destined one." Surely this idea of kindred spirits and fate sprung from some fool's hope? An unrequited love?
Or an excuse for papa to lie again, she thought bitterly.
She sighed and examined her slender fingers, as if expecting to find a sliver of the string there. For some reason, as she pondered it, the night she met Soul in that dark, dimly-lit, and black checkered room came to mind.
They lost their way often, and often strayed from the path to their dreams at forks in the roads where they differed; but in the end, they always came back to each other. They saved each other. When she thought about it, they really were tied to each other in some way (and sometimes tangled).
The young meister smiled briefly, clenched her fists as if still clinging to this alleged red thread, and felt warmth spread through her spirit.
She figured they would trip over it time and time again, but still be connected, no matter what.
A fool's hope indeed. But she couldn't help but respect the idiot that started it. It all made sense, after all.