A/N: This chapter is based on the manga.

It's cold. I press the pillow against myself as hard as I can, but it's no use. Even if I get under the covers, I know it won't be any help. Even if it was still daytime, it still wouldn't help. Nothing will be able to get rid of this raw, cold feeling of guilt. I bury my face deeper into the pillow, squeezing it so much that I wouldn't be surprised if it split apart and bled cotton.

My breathing is slow and muffled. My body feels stiff from sitting upright on the mattress for hours on end. The tiniest noise always startles me and makes me look at the door, expecting it to open. But it never does.

How can my forehead sweat when I'm feeling so cold on the inside and the outside? I don't bother wiping it, though. I prefer not to move if I can help it. If I stay as still and quiet as possible, then my mind might finally settle down enough to go completely blank. I can't fall asleep, so the next best thing is to try to stop thinking.

Don't think about the mess I've gotten myself into. Don't think about Eruka or the Mizune sisters.

Don't think about Medusa-sama.

Don't think about whether or not someone's on their way to smash down the door and drag me off to be punished for what I've done to Professor Stein and Marie-sensei.

But most of all… Don't. Think. About. Maka.

Focus on breathing. Focus on the pillow. Focus on nothing.

There's another noise, and I shudder at how familiar it is. I want to pretend I can't hear anything. I want to pretend that there isn't a frog sitting in the window right now.

I'm alone here. It's just me. The room is empty. That soft croak just now—it's only the wind.

"It's time, Chrona."

My curiosity gets the better of me. I lift my head from the pillow and look at the windowsill. Sure enough, Eruka sits there, a green lump with glassy eyes. She blinks at me expectantly.

My voice comes out weak and trembling, exactly the opposite of how I want it. "T-Time f-for what?"

"It's time to go. Medusa's waiting."

I stare at her, eyes wide with fear and disbelief. If there's any color in my face, it must be draining away now. Ruthless, pointed, golden eyes swirl through my thoughts. She wants me back already? Right this minute?

My toes fidget on the bed, fiddling with each other. "But… I can't…"

"You can't stay here, you know. They've found the snake, so it's only a matter of time before everyone knows that you're responsible. Sooner or later they'll all find out that you've betrayed them. Just sitting here won't do you any good. It's too dangerous."

An icy chill skids up my spine, as if I'm not cold enough already. It's freezing, and it cuts into me like a rusty knife. She's right. I'm a traitor. When they figure out I'd poisoned Marie-sensei and kept quiet about Medusa-sama's return, everybody will hate me. Even Maka.

Barely noticing what I'm doing, I place the pillow back at the head of the bed and stand. My arms hang loosely at my sides as I stare at the hard, cracked floor beneath my bare feet. I don't face the window.

It really is too late for me. I can't be forgiven, even if I apologize. There's no excuse for what I did, but Medusa-sama is my mother. A good child is supposed to do what they're told, right? But still… Throwing away everything I've found here would be too painful.

What should I do? I can't make everybody happy. I wish I could, but I can't, I just can't. What's the right thing to do? How do I deal with something so difficult?

I'm so confused, but there is one thing that I'm really sure of. "I don't want to leave."

Eyes on the ground, I turn and step toward the window. I want Eruka to hear me clearly. I place my hands on the sill, standing beside her, but not looking at her. The cold slab meets my fingers, but I am already so frozen that it doesn't bother me.

"I want to stay," I say aloud. "If I go, then I'll never see any of my friends again."

"Your friends…? Oh, that reminds me. You should know that one of them saw us talking earlier. Maka, that's her name."

My heart skips a beat. Time seems to grind to a halt as I stare at my pale knuckles, mouth slightly agape. Is she lying? I don't want to believe her. But somehow, I can see it as plain as day… Maka does have a way of noticing things about me when no one else can…

I wonder what went through her mind when she saw us. I wonder where she is right now, what she's doing. She must hate me now. I bet she thinks I've been using her all this time.

"Like I said, Medusa's waiting. You should hurry and pack your things. The longer you hang around here, the sooner they'll catch you."

I manage to move my head and look at her. "I don't want to leave this place," I answer weakly. It's the truth, but deep down, I know I don't have a choice in the matter.

Medusa-sama needs me. She's my mother.

If I stay, I'll get hurt. People who get too close to me will get hurt, too. I've caused too much trouble. They won't want me around after they find out about what I did. Leaving now would be doing them a favor, right?

I gaze up at the night sky. The moon stands out, grinning ominously, but there's also a few stars dotted here and there. They remind me of shining teardrops.

What if, by some small chance, Maka isn't mad at me? What if she's sad instead?

What if she's lying awake in bed right now, looking at this same sky, crying to herself? Are those tears of sorrow? Frustration? Confusion?

I don't want to see her in pain because of me. Seeing her upset is much worse than seeing her angry.

I take a deep breath, letting it rush out as a sigh. I can't stay here, even though I want to. Maybe if I'm lucky, nobody will miss me.

I turn away from the window.

"So you're staying?"

"No. No, I—I'm coming."

Eruka says nothing; she just waits for me while I find my shoes. I put them on, then search for a bag to put my belongings in. There isn't much to take. For a moment, I consider leaving a note behind, saying how sorry I am and how nice it was being friends with them all, even if it was only for a while. I decide against it because it'd be better if I left without a trace, as if I never existed.

The last thing I pack is a hand-sized photo of Maka. She gave it to me not too long ago, saying I should use it to start a scrapbook. She told me that filling it with pictures would be a way of keeping all my special memories in one place. I close my eyes and hold her smiling image over my heart. I'll treasure this. If things get too rough, then I can look at this picture of her to feel better.

Eruka's gaze is drilling into my back. I carefully place the photo in my bag and turn to her. Together, we slip into the unsuspecting night.

She hitches a ride on my shoe. I almost wish that someone will spot me and send me back, but the city appears to be deserted. I make sure to stay away from streetlamps. My footsteps pad the ground as quickly and quietly as they can. For a second, I think about changing direction in order to head for Maka's apartment. Just to say goodbye. But I shove the foolish idea aside before it can take root.

We make it out safely. When Death City is a good distance behind us, I can't help but take one last look. An eerie calmness settles inside me. Soon the city disappears from view.

During the journey, I think about the last time Maka and I saw each other.

-xoxo-

"Are you busy?" she asked me.

"No," I said, then winced at how quickly I'd spoken. It was true that I wasn't doing anything at the moment, but that was only because it wasn't time to meet with Eruka yet.

"Then come grab a bite to eat with us."

And so I did. Guilt spread through me like a virus, but I really liked doing things with her. I couldn't resist. She, Soul, Blair, and I went to a café, and I tried not to think about where I would go as soon as we separated.

We sat at a table outside the building. Maka took off her gloves, poured a bottle of milk into a bowl, and set it on the ground for Blair. I knew the magical cat had a human form, but I hadn't seen it yet. I got the feeling Maka didn't want her to transform around me, but I wasn't sure why.

As we ate, Soul and Maka talked about this and that. I listened. The only time I spoke was when one of them spoke to me first. Maka seemed very eager to hear what I had to say, even though it wasn't much.

"Have you ever had a raspberry scone before?" she asked.

"N-No… I've never had any k-kind before…"

"Really? Then here, try mine. They're good."

She broke off a little piece from her plate, balanced it on her palm, and offered it to me. I lifted my arms and scooped it up, keenly aware that my fingers were touching hers.

I popped it into my mouth. The pastry was soft and flaky with that tart, juicy flavor of raspberry.

Maka stared. "Your hands are cold."

I swallowed nervously. For me, it was normal. They were that way all the time. "I… don't usually notice…"

"May I?"

Before I could give her a questioning look, she was already moving her chair closer. Carefully, she gathered my hands into her own. I froze. I still wasn't used to anyone touching me. But I didn't pull back because I knew Maka would never want to hurt me.

She started rubbing my hands, slowly at first, then faster. Of course, hers were warm. They pressed mine together. I could soon feel them heating up between hers. Then she brought our hands up to the lower half of her face. She held them close to her mouth and blew hot, dry air over them.

I watched as she rubbed my hands once more, asking if they were warm enough for me yet. It was hard to speak, so I just nodded.

"Keep doing that and your hands won't freeze. You should warm them even if they feel just a little bit cold." She stopped and withdrew her hands to move her chair back. "Now try it."

I cupped my hands, placed them near my mouth, and breathed into them. I rubbed them over each other, palm over palm, fingers over fingers. The warmth stayed.

Soul smirked. "I think Chrona already knew how to do that, Maka."

"I know that! I was just helping." She turned to me with a smile. "So you liked the scone, right?"

"Y-Yes. It's… tasty."

"Have another."

She held out another raspberry scone and as our fingers met again I noticed how similar they felt. They were both warm. She had shared her warmth with me. I wished there was a way to carry it around all the time, to always keep it close.

After the café, the four of us browsed the streets for a while, Maka and Soul pointing out shops and other places they thought I might like. Blair was perched comfortably on Maka's head and when she stretched her mouth wide and yawned, we realized that the sun was beginning to set.

We decided to go our separate ways. I clutched my arm as they said goodbye. Something told me I should smile as I waved back, but even if I tried, I knew it'd be useless. I was too anxious at the thought of where I was supposed to be right then.

I looked at their easygoing, trusting faces and gripped my arm tighter. I looked into Maka's gentle green eyes and suddenly found it very hard to breathe.

I turned my back on them.

-xoxo-

Medusa-sama sits in front of her crystal ball. It's still a little strange to see her using a child's body. I stand before her, at a slight distance, hugging my bag to my chest and waiting for her to acknowledge me.

She concentrates only on the glowing orb in front of her for so long that I wonder if I should say something to let her know I'm here. But somehow I think she knows already. I stand still and wait quietly.

The light from the sphere fades and two arms reach up to lower a dark hood. A young face looks up and gives me a snaky smile. "Welcome home, Chrona."

"M-Medusa-sama."

"What's the matter, Chrona? Aren't you glad to finally be back where you belong? With me?"

My shoulders arch themselves as I shift my weight from one foot to the other. I want to look away, but I don't dare. My fingers cling to the bag almost desperately. I wish she'd let me put my stuff away. I don't want to answer these kinds of questions.

The smile remains. "What are you holding?"

"J-Just m-m-my… things."

"Bring it here."

I don't move. What does she want with my stuff? What will she do when she sees the picture of Maka? Will she punish me? Yes, I think she will… If not for that, then because I'm just standing here instead of doing what she asked.

Medusa-sama gets up, but her face isn't an angry one as she walks toward me, taking careful and silent steps with her small bare feet. She stops in front of me and I'm reminded of the time I first saw her like this, reminded of how she said that she'd missed me. She still has that same smile.

Her arms reach out. The palms of her hands show themselves. They lie in the air, waiting.

There's no need to repeat herself. She wants me to give up this bag, so I must. It lowers into her hands and my fingers are clammy but they unfurl easily.

She turns away the instant I let go. She moves a few steps toward her crystal ball again. I watch her stop, open the bag, and rummage through it.

My heart pounds in my chest. I want to shut my eyes but it's as if they're taped open. The sounds of my belongings shifting around are louder than they should be.

She takes out the photo and stares at it. But with her back facing me, I can't tell if she's mad, indifferent, or what. All I can do is wait, but it's hard to just stand here not knowing what will happen. Medusa-sama is as still as a statue and I can't look anywhere else.

She examines the picture without making a sound. She studies it while I hold my breath, afraid that if I make any noise, she'll lash out. All I can hear now is my pulse drumming madly in my ears. It almost hurts, but Medusa-sama stands unmoving for so long that I feel my heart begin to calm down again. My anxiety gradually dies and a faint curiosity takes its place.

I tense when she slowly sets the bag down so that she can hold the photo of Maka with both hands. She grips the edges, but not tightly. She doesn't hold it close, but not far either. The hands that aren't really hers are still and relaxed. Not a single hair on her head sways. Even the air around us seems to be waiting feverishly because it feels sharp and thin, its silence dangling by a thread, ready to be snipped.

I am tempted to ask if she'll let me keep it, but I know I shouldn't speak right now. I don't care about the rest of my stuff anymore. I need to have that picture. I don't want to lose it. I don't want it to be thrown away.

She's moving again. I blink as she lifts the photograph a little, her hands migrating to the top. The two are side by side, grasping firmly. I hear a small tearing sound.

"No, don't!"

The words ricochet off the walls and come back to haunt me, scolding me for what I've just done: No, don't! No, DON'T! But it's too late. My fate is sealed; she'll definitely punish me now. Somehow it's not what she'll do to me that scares me, but what she'll do to Maka…

"So it's true then." Her voice is calm and casual, as if she were stating an obvious fact. "You really thought you were one of them."

I bite my lip. I want to tell her that I was one of them—I didn't just think it. Maka told me herself: they were my friends.

Medusa-sama mashes the picture into a ball, inserts it into her pocket, and glances over her shoulder to look at me. "Come here."

One hand wraps around my elbow as I obey. I was hoping my punishment would be something small like going to bed without supper, but it must be worse if she wants me close. I take comfort in the fact that I was wrong. I don't need the picture after all. I can think about Maka whenever I like and it will help me handle whatever this punishment has in store.

I stand in front of Medusa-sama, staring at my feet, but then I remember what a brave person Maka is. So I lift my head a little and peer at her through my bangs. She is frowning. Her eyebrows are raised, sloping. Her eyes aren't as narrow and pointed as they usually are. They are wider, more rounded. She looks almost... sad, as if she's really disappointed in me.

"This should help you focus," she says, "on what's truly important." She raises her hands to her face, curving them around either side of her mouth, like she wants to whisper something to me.

I stoop to her level because I have no choice. She is all I have now. There's nowhere else to go. Her lips begin to move, muttering words under her breath and I turn my head, leaning in slightly so I can hear.

That's when I feel it. Sharp, dry, burning pain.

I stagger—at least I think I do—all my senses are numb and I can't tell what's happening—only that my ear is on fire. There's a thrashing, throbbing, squirming something and it's hot as tar and covered in millions of tiny thorns that cut and prick and stab and—

My head jerks back (or does it?) as my mouth stretches wide and I scream—or do I? Everything is a flash of white and the ground doesn't seem like it's beneath my feet anymore. A surge of heat swallows me whole, and my head feels like it's frying from the inside out. The pain digs deeper, scraping and scratching and burning. Is it going to melt my brain? Rip it to shreds? This noise, this amplified knocking, this constant thumping or thudding won't go away and if it doesn't stop my skull is going to crack.

All control is lost. A jolt of agony shoots through me. Then, as quickly as it had come, it leaves and there is nothing. No sound. Nothing broiling in my mind, ramming around with an army of needles. No pain, but no relief either. Have I fainted?

No, wait. I see something.

Or, to be more accurate, I remember something. I'm remembering the last time I saw Maka. She and Soul and Blair are in front of me, clear as day. It's when we said goodbye to each other for the last time. Their lips move but no sounds come out. Their images freeze and begin to grow fuzzy.

Suddenly Maka, Soul, and Blair become a girl, a boy, and a cat.

Why?

They look the same, but they are just a girl with pigtails, a boy with white hair and sharp teeth, and a cat wearing a strange hat. Who are they? I feel like they should mean something to me, but they don't. Their names escape me.

No. Wait. The girl. She is fading, but she seems familiar. Those eyes, those pigtails… Have we met before? Don't I know her? She has a short, simple name, right? I'm not sure why, but I think it's really important that I try to remember who she is. But the harder I try, the faster she slips away.

The three of them disappear completely, leaving only a world of empty white space behind. Then, like a roll of film playing backwards, I see their transparent forms re-enact earlier times, and each memory fizzles out one by one. They move faster, and several other people appear too, and I forget them.

The searing pain is back again because everything's going by too fast. It's like they're being erased by an eraser that's rubbing too hard, threatening to bring about more damage than it's meant to. But despite that, I try to fight back, even though I can't win, but I do it anyway, because every time I see that girl's face, the more I want to know about her.

And then, for a moment—right before the eraser is finished erasing, before the pain evaporates without warning, before I finally succumb to darkness, before I wake up in my room with a terrible headache—for just one moment her name comes to me, and it comes to me loudly, as if I'm screaming it at the top of my lungs.

MAKA!

-xoxo-

My grip on Ragnarok's hilt loosens slightly as I hold him up to the shiny blue orb floating right in front of us. The light it gives off is warm.

This is the last soul we're collecting tonight. We are hunting for souls because Ragnarok is too small. His blade is skinny, but just as deadly as when he was bigger. I don't remember how he got to be so tiny. When I asked him, he said it was because of an annoying accident. Or maybe he said incident.

As if the night isn't freezing enough already, the wind blows. I tighten my hold again. The cold air settles down as the soul is devoured, never to be seen again. Then I hear a frightened squeal behind me, and I turn just in time to see someone running away from me.

Medusa-sama's voice fills my head. "After her."

I don't waste any time. The girl flees and I follow her quickly and quietly, keeping my distance, staying far to the side. The streets are empty and dark. The girl is slow and her breathing is loud and uneven. Her feet crash against the ground. I end up passing her without her knowing.

When she looks over her shoulder and sees no one, her legs go even slower than before. Panting, she walks instead of runs for a while, head still turned. Now's my chance. As her arms wrap themselves around her body to ward off the cold, she stops. She stares behind her, waiting, wondering if she's safe.

I move in front of her and raise Ragnarok high above my head. I am about to bring him down when I notice something that makes me freeze. The girl has a long, skinny pigtail hanging from either side of her head. I don't know why it makes me pause, but it does. I feel like I've seen them somewhere before, but that can't be right. I don't know anyone with pigtails.

I snap back to attention when she notices me. Her eyes widen. Her face pales. I swing. She falls. Ragnarok eats.

Medusa-sama speaks. "You hesitated."

I answer her truthfully. "I'm not used to killing girls."

"It'll get easier," she tells me, and I believe her. Then she tells us to hurry back. She needs to see us before she has to leave for Shibusen. Something about the black blood and the ability to use multiple swords. But that one word she mentioned sticks out to me, and it's hard to focus on anything else.

Shibusen. That's the place that always interferes with Medusa-sama's plans. It is a powerful organization full of meisters and their weapons. Shibusen is our enemy. I know that much, but I also get the feeling that there's more. I can't shake off the feeling that I know a lot more about that place than I do. It's the same feeling I just got from looking at that girl and her pigtails. These moments of déjà vu have been happening often.

It happens again as we return to Medusa-sama. The night is still cold and my hands feel like they have frost growing on them. I'm not usually bothered by the air's temperature, but for some reason I decide to do something about it. I cup my hands together and blow my warm breath into them. I rub them over each other.

I don't know why, but the action seems familiar. It's as if I've forgotten something really important. Whenever I try to recall the past, dozens of blank spots will pop up. But they're in there somewhere. I know they are. Something in my body tells me that they are. It's almost like my mind doesn't remember, but my soul does.

Thinking about it too much makes my head hurt. My hands are warm now, but everything else is still as cold as ever. I sigh quietly and try not to think about those missing memories.

Medusa-sama needs me. She is my mother.