Day 6: Feisty
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Maka gaped for a moment, eyes absurdly wide. "Soul!" she scolded. "That is not a scratch! Did someone do that to you?!"
"Um," he said, swallowing. Feisty, protective Maka wasn't going to take this especially well. He sat down without explanation, patting the grass beside him expectantly. She took a deep breath, then paused and chose to sit.
"Yeah," Soul said at last. "I got into a bit of a fight. But don't worry - it's fine. It's not serious."
"What happened?" Maka pried again, apparently unable to take her eyes off the spot where the cut disappeared under his shirt.
"You remember me telling you about the guy I used to hang out with here, right? When I first got here? He lived here all his life and showed me around. Masamune was his name."
Maka frowned. "He did that?!"
"...He's changed a lot, I guess. I barely even ever thought about him anymore. But I ran into him the other day, and uh, he was mad. So when I ignored him, he took a swing at me."
"With his weapon form," Maka finished for him.
"Yeah. With that."
"WHY?!" she burst out furiously, so loud that her voice echoed and Soul cringed. "What the hell?!"
He bit his lip. "A couple of things. I mean I think he was literally going mad in the way that people do when they almost become kishin. I guess he must be vulnerable to it or something; he was always a bit aggressive, but since we stopped hanging out, he must have really lost it. But also...he saw us, I guess," he admitted. "The reason he was upset was because he asked me about you."
Maka just stared, luminous eyes begging for further explanation.
"He saw us, practicing together. Said he was around here one day and heard us talking. And I wouldn't answer his questions about us, but I wouldn't let him shit-talk you either, and that really bothered him. So he tried to stop me, and when I tried to walk by him, he slashed me."
The memory of the things Masamune said surged through Soul and filled him with stubborn affection for his practice partner all over again.
Maka seized Soul's wrist - he slipped his hand through to hold hers - and dragged him up to stand. "Where is he?!"
"Don't you start," Soul said, squeezing her hand to still her. "He's in jail now anyway. They won't let him go anywhere until his trial."
"Gods damn it," Maka snarled. "What is people's problem?!" At Soul's questioning glance, she stomped her foot. "Why does he care what we are?"
"Because he thinks it should be weapons against the world or something," he sighed.
Maka growled. "I understand why so many weapons feel that way, I really do, it's just - we're not their business, Soul!"
"Shhh, Maka," Soul said, holding a finger up to his lips, remembering that they had not always been as alone as they thought they were. "I know, I know. It sucks."
She fixed him with a fiery stare.
"What is it?" he asked. The passion in her expression made his hair stand on end. Time seemed to stop for a moment, and she rushed toward him again, embracing him - mercifully, she was more gentle this time, aware of the still-healing wound.
"I can't believe someone would do this to you," she said. "It makes me sick." Her tone was so intense, so angry, that he would have been a little scared, were she not on his side. He rubbed her back.
"I know, but it's the way things are," he muttered into her hair, which smelled sweet and felt soft. It was hard not to plant a kiss on her head. "I'm okay, though. Seriously."
She looked up then, capturing his attention with the corners of her lips twitching dangerously downward. "I tried to go away and you still got hurt," she said, the beginnings of tears glistening.
Soul shook his head, choosing not to tell her that their separation had been far worse than some childish attack by a disgruntled weapon. "You can't blame yourself for shit other people do to me, Maka."
"Why didn't you - I would have come and helped you," she said, sniffling. "What did you do? Were you alone with a huge wound?"
He had been, of course. The cut was not especially deep, so while it needed attention, he didn't feel the need to call his family or anything. After the police had quickly gotten Masamune under control, they had helped Soul to the local hospital, and he'd been given stitches and bandages. A few of his friends had shown interest in helping him out, for which he was thankful.
"I didn't want to hang around people anyway," he said. It was true. "But I had company. And also, his sister brought me enough soup for an army."
"Okay, I'm glad you had someone, but Soul, you could've - you could've told me, you know. I'd have wanted to be there."
"Yeah, that's why I didn't stop anywhere to call you," he answered. Even now, the images conjured by that idea made him smirk. "I could see you charging into the hospital and getting into huge trouble."
Maka rolled her eyes, but let it go and chose to lean her head (gently, again) on Soul's chest, touching the fabric over his cut as if trying to sense something she couldn't quite believe. Her sadness melted him.
"It's not your fault," he reminded her. "I really, really wanted to play around with being wielded by you."
"But I'm the one who asked," she mumbled.
"And I'd do everything again. Including getting into a fight. Well, maybe not the running away part-" Maka whined something incoherent in response "-but everything else."
"Since your letter, there's something I've been thinking about asking you, but I don't want you to feel like you have to say yes," she told his shirt.
"Maka, I could argue with you all day. Stop worrying." When she made eye contact again, brows raised, he offered a grin that he hoped was reassuring, though he wished she would just spit it out already. If she was getting ready to give voice to his own thoughts of love, his heart was probably going to pound right out of his chest; if she wasn't, he wanted to get the disappointment over with.
"Yeah, that's true," she conceded, and took a deep breath. "Well, I really...care about you, Soul. And I can't stand the idea of seeing you get hurt because of me. But it seems like that's already happened and something in me wants to fight all this. I want to fight together."
