Maka returned to an empty hotel room. Angela needed Black Star right now and she needed time to clear her head. All her things were still mostly packed. The sliver of a desk available to her was covered in a small stack of books she was reading. For the last couple of months, she'd been living out of a suitcase. Now her outgoing flight had been postponed so she could deal with a more pressing mission; a more common occurrence than she was willing to admit.
Once Kid had more information for them, they could get started. The nausea had long passed, but now she was just tired. Her mind stuck on a loop of planning for the next mission and replaying this morning in her head. It wasn't her fault, it wasn't anybody's fault really. What happened had happened, but she couldn't help wonder if there was something she could have said to make things less volatile.
We're just friends.
Nope, that would have come off as patronizing. Especially with how little Maka had been around. With what had happened in the cab, she couldn't even really say with a hundred percent certainty that was true. Something very easily could have happened if one of them had a little less self-control.
Nothing happened.
Angela wasn't five, she'd know an obvious lie when she saw it. It probably would have made things worse. At least on the surface, she hadn't lashed out at Maka. She just faded into the background.
I'm sorry.
That was probably the closest to what she wanted to hear, but it would trigger further questions. What was she actually sorry for, for not being Tsubaki? For getting caught instead of slipping out the back like any ordinary one-night stand? For hurting some kid just by virtue of her existence?
It was too late to do any of that now. The next time she saw Angela would be tainted by that awkward meeting and subsequent murder. She just had to accept, no matter what she did moving forward, she was going to be considered the 'bad guy'. As her consciousness faded, Maka fought with her hurt inner child. This was not an easy position to be in. Nothing happened, but part of her was disappointed that was true.
When Black Star and Maka got to DWMA, the school was a chaotic flurry of activity. At the base level of the school, younger meisters had clamored around the mission board to see what new assignments had become available over the weekend. The hallways had been overtaken by Kid's love of all things black, gold and symmetric. A far sleeker, colorless school than the one they had attended in the past. Maka couldn't help but notice how small the students were.
In the upper level, older meisters and weapons were manning incoming calls about potential kishen sightings. The phones busier than usual and some desks were empty. Inside the main death room, the graveyard had been carefully arranged so that each grave was an equal distance away from each other and the center platform. The walls reflected a flat overcast sky. All complaints about the character taken out of the school had been quashed at the inclusion of chairs for people to sit in. Having been a student himself, Kid had tried to make things as comfortable as possible for people coming in.
"On a scale of one to ten," Black Star said after Kid and Chrona greeted them, "how fucked are we?" Kid's lip twitched, unable to use his favorite number, even though it would pain him to do so. He'd asked Black Star several times to stick to a color system instead.
"A four." He said.
"Hold on," Maka rubbed her temple, "we reported a crime that you know we had nothing to do with. Is there something else going on?" Kid and Chrona shared a look.
"Some people saw Angela in the area." Chrona said. "We know she did the right thing, but rumors spiral." A lot of work had been put into making Death City neutral territory for all its visitors, but some residents had their reservations about witches. "It takes more than a few years to change people's minds." They arranged fresh cups of green tea around the table for everyone.
"I can't help be suspicious of who was targeted." Kid said. "Mr. Sherman used to be a security guard for the school. We've done our best to classify the description of the perpetrator, but we got another report of someone with large star tattoo butting heads with some of our students on a mission. It's not looking good." The odd copycat had been a problem in the past. Every time it had Black Star on his toes and placed Angela in the students cross hairs at Shibusen. Somethings didn't get easier with time.
"I don't mind looking into it," Black Star said, "but Tsubaki's just getting settled in Oceania, I'd hate to pull her away." There were few weapons he could partner well with on long missions. Even his friend Soul wasn't usable by him.
"I can see if Harudori's available." Kid suggested.
"Why would you need to do that?" Chrona asked. "Maka's right here." The others grew deathly silent, much to Chrona's surprise. Between her burning resentment toward her father, and the teasing from upperclassmen, Maka's status as a weapon had become an expressly forbidden topic. As their powers had grown over the years, Chrona easily forgot how other people dealt with ill-gotten knowledge. Regardless of how obvious it seemed.
"I haven't transformed since I was a kid." Maka tried to laugh off the awkwardness. "I'm a far better meister anyway." The thought of trying to pair with Soul while he was in the middle of wedding planning was not ideal though. "Harudori's used to working with multiple meisters. It'll be fine."
One death scythe was usually enough to scare off most wanna-be kishens, let alone two. Patty had adapted to the role of a meister well after years of fighting alongside her sister in Brooklyn. She was a more aggressive fighter than most meisters, louder, but succinct. No point in drawing out a fight when there was a backlog of Ink Wars they hadn't gotten through. Acting as the DWMA's guard dog was her specialty, but the detective shit was not.
"The body's still here." Soul rolled the victim over onto their back. A coin lay in the street where the man's face had been. His coffee spilled in the street in a leisurely trail toward a burning cone of incense. "But no soul."
"So?" Patty leaned back with her hands behind her head.
"So, if someone had eaten their soul, the body should be gone." It was the second time it had happened within a week. Someone from Shibusen's staff turned up dead, but with remains in the mortal plane. "Where did it go?"
"Maybe he died of natural causes." Patty shrugged. He gave her a witheringly tired stare. "Murder's a natural cause." She shook her head. "Shinigami-sama never talked about what happened to the good people that died. Things just always seemed to take care of themselves." It was unsettling to see someone linger in the in-between like this. "Ugh, I hope Maka finds who's responsible for this soon. It's so gross to have bodies just lie there like rotting potatoes!" She bowed to the man. "Sorry Jeff, but it's true!"
"Yeah..." Soul turned in their report to Kid. He'd offered to pair up with Maka for the investigation, but for whatever reason, Maka had refused. No one could tell him why. Granted, he had a good idea who to ask, but that would involve stirring an already broiling pot. "Did Blair actually make dinner tonight?" He asked instead.
"Do pizza rolls count as dinner?" She asked, entirely comfortable eating nothing but bite-sized pizza for the evening.
"Let's get something on the way." He sighed.
"Alrighty!" She skipped up to the back end of the motorcycle. As the engines revved, Blair sent her a picture. "They're not burned this time." She said in sing song.
"I never said I wouldn't eat them." Soul pealed out of the alley into the brightly lit street. "That just can't be all I have."
"You just left him there!?" Kid bellowed at the mirror. Chrona lounged in one of the chairs with their legs over the arms, a golden tangle of thread only they could see in their lap. They picked and pulled at the knots in a vain hope any of them would give.
"What else were we supposed to do, take him with us?" Patty said with a plateful of food in her hand. "Soul's bike barely fits two people, let alone a dead body. You're the grim reaper, don't you have a clean up crew or something?"
"We've never needed one." Kid said through his teeth. Not that he'd trust anyone else to clean other than him. Usually, the bodies vanished on their own. "I'll send someone. Just, please, next time if that happens call me immediately." He hung up and lurched forward so his head leaned against the glass.
"I don't suppose witches have anything that could help this, would they?" He asked.
"Death works differently here." Chrona shrugged. "In the magical world, your soul doesn't get collected, it just comes back as a blank slate. Then Maba finds where your magic comes from and you're given your old name back. The old bodies get turned into plant food." They looked up from their thread. "You could do that! The fire would have to be really hot though." Gruesome imagery aside, it did bring up a different question.
"Does that mean Medusa could come back again?"
"No." Chrona fixated back on the threads. "Ragnarok ate her. You don't come back from that." Warm hands stopped them from picking apart the threads until they frayed. Kid knew he had touched a nerve, his curiosity had just got the better of him.
"I just wanted to know if there were more fires ahead, I'm sorry." Kid said. Chrona furrowed their brow, the metaphor a little too similar to their previous topic. "Doom prepping."
"Ah." Chrona nodded. "If the dead here aren't going toward the spirit channels or in a Kishen, where are they going?"
"Unfortunately, there's still too few victims for me to tell." Kid said. "Hopefully Maka and Blackstar can find out before it gets worse." He recognized Chrona's fidgeting at last, a slight panic in his eyes. "He's here, isn't he?" Chrona sank deeper into their chair. "I thought we agreed to keep him on the moon!"
"Maba says I've been working too slow!" Chrona said. "They don't get it. When someone's been alive for thousands of years," they held up a mass of threads tethered off into the corners of the earth, "thousands of people's fates get roped into it. Literally."
"I can't see what you're holding." Kid said.
"Believe me, you wouldn't want to." They added another freed thread to a pile of discarded fates. For all his inane ramblings, Excalibur carried many of the dead close to his soul. It was a nightmare making him let go. Kid flinched at the sound of a cane scuffing up the white marble floors and a nasally whistle.
"I'm sure you're doing great, but I really need to get on this whole dead lingering around thing." He ran into the sanctity of his private office. Meanwhile Chrona worked meticulously as the holy sword approached them.
"It is time for midnight tea, you are two minutes late." He shoved a can in Chrona's face. "Article 632 states explicitly no third Wednesday must go without tea at midnight." Chrona batted it away without a second glance.
"Did you read the poetry I gave you?" Chrona asked. The weapon's cane deflated like a limp balloon at the mention of such dark writings. "Fool!" He threw his top hat at her. "You're neglecting your duties with that pointless task." He was immortal like the great old ones, no matter what the demi gods wished. If there was an end to his fate, it could be miles away. "Your peers will be in their graves by the time you finish."
"That's the idea." Chrona threw the hat back at him, he caught it with the top of his head and a majestic leap. They had no doubt, that Maka and the others had defied fate by fighting Asura and living to tell the tale. On all sides they had people demanding proof their loved ones were cheated or proof they needed more time. Starting with Excalibur was the best way to put off disappointing everyone.
"You are the Allotter, you must live in the present!" Excalibur demanded, slamming his cane on the rat's nest of golden thread. "That means experiencing your friendships! Nourishing your meaty shell. Drink the sweet summer wine and roll in dandelions. Why, in 1542-"
"Alright, I'll take a break!"
All of Shibusen was on high alert. Another security guard hadn't come to work. Angela was thankful to have class as an alibi. As the first pseudo exchange student, she was the oldest in her class. A number of young witches, about nine in appearance, would run around before lessons started. They were all oracles, illusionists, or some other form of benign magic. Their mothers liked the appeal of Miss Kim's class for white magic, an art that had almost died out.
There was nothing wrong with white magic, but Angela knew she could do more than vanish into thin air and levitate object. She wanted to try seeing eye spells, making spikes grow out of the ground, or shapeshifting. It was all met with a resounding 'no', so she could set a good example for the little kids.
Bad witches fell prey to the destructive sway of magic, bad witches didn't follow the rules, bad witches got people hurt. Lately she had started feeling a bit like a 'bad' witch. It didn't help that Kim had given her an earful for running off without an escort the other day. The buddy system wouldn't suck so much if she had kids her own age to partner with.
"Alright everyone," Kim said, "I want you to think about the animal that's drawn to your magic." A chameleon; silent, frightened, helpless. "What good things are they looking for with your magic?" The little ones shouted out silly things like joy, or love. She shouldn't hate the younger kids for thriving under a peaceful time, but she couldn't help it. She wanted to be anyone else right now. "...Angela?"
"What?" Angela covered her mouth, two voices had come out, hers and Miss Kim's. She pulled her hands away from her mouth, they had an abstracted version of Kim's manicure, all just a little off. "I'm sorry!" The illusion faded, but it was too late. She accidentally used magic she wasn't supposed too again. The little girls giggled and 'oooed' at her.
"Maybe you should go home for the day." Kim said gently.
"No, I'm fine." Angela said. "I can stay. I'll focus, I promise."
"It's okay if you can't, you had a rough day yesterday and-"
"I SAID I'M FINE!" She shouted, her skin fire-engine red. She was towering above the other girls, her chest heaved. She needed to focus, she needed to be calm. "Don't tell him." Her skin cooled down when she saw the frightened looks all around her. "Please don't tell him."
Black Star had just gotten a new mission. If he had to come get her from work, it'd be a whole thing, and then she'd have to tell him what happened during class. That she had been struggling for multiple weeks to keep her magic utterly suppressed. This wouldn't happen if she was able to go to real magic school, it just wasn't fair. She didn't want to get into any more trouble.
"Jackie, can you take her to the practice field?" Kim sighed. Her partner nodded and Angela felt the entire class watch her as she was lead away from the mediation circle. This was utterly embarrassing.
"It's okay." Jackie said as they entered the empty gym. "When I first started here, I'd accidentally lit things on fire all the time." That was okay for a weapon. Weapons were supposed to take their time learning and growing. Witches that couldn't do what they were told got cast aside.
Working with her senpai had always been her dream, but Tsugumi had to turn Maka and Black Star down. She'd gone so far to face time them personally just so they could see her bow her head in apologetic reverence.
"Ordinarily I would in a heartbeat," Tsugumi said, "but Meme's got urgent business back home and I promised I'd help her. I'm so sorry Maka-san!"
"It's okay." Maka said.
"I'm here too." Black Star said, feeling a little like a third wheel while the girls gushed over how Tsugumi had grown into her own on the EAT course.
"Doesn't Chrona-san have a weapon that can pair with anyone?" Tsugumi asked. The two meisters collectively cringed. Excalibur was Chrona's first project in trying to correct the chaos caused by the old ones. Only Chrona could put up with the sword's wretched personality. "That bad hunh? I thought if anyone could do it, you could Senpai."
"Yeah, even I have my limits." Maka said.
"I'm here too damn it!" Black Star said, causing the girl on the other end to flinch. Maka rolled her eyes, he honestly wondered why so many of their underclassmen were afraid of him.
"Ah, but if it's related to the Star Clan, I'm surprised they didn't ask Akane-kun or Ao to look into it." She tilted her head when neither meister agreed. "They're related to them." She covered her mouth. "I'm sorry, I thought you knew." Both her classmates had the fearsome stars in their eyes, even if their skin was free of ink. It was common enough knowledge in her class, that Akane always hid his eyes to avoid the stares. They must have avoided Black Star at school for the same reason. "They may not know much, but it's worth asking. Sorry I couldn't be more help Maka-san." She hung up before Black Star could say anything else. The phone slowly cooled in Maka's hands as she thought of what else to say. Black Star couldn't go on a mission this sensitive alone, there was always the chance people wouldn't talk to him, but they were running out of options.
"I could..." Maka hesitated, her nerves getting the best of her. It was a fool hardy idea, it might not even work. "I could try acting as a weapon." She had to know for sure if what happened earlier in the week was a fluke. This would be the quickest way. If they couldn't manage a single mission alone together, then there was no point getting all in her head about it.
"Yeah?" Black Star said, a little too eagerly maybe. "You'd really be okay with that?"
"What other options do we have?" Maka shrugged and avoided making eye contact with him. "Kid's going to get impatient if we can't find you a partner, and just send me with someone else. It hardly seems fair." Her fingers were getting tangled in her hair, she couldn't sit still. "I mean, it worth a shot. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work."
"Okay..." Black Star raised a brow.
"But no making fun of it." Maka warned him with a stern finger. "No 'daddy's girl' jokes, nothing. This is just for the mission." She was a three star meister, but a second rate weapon. When she fast-tracked the NOT class, she'd had her fill of getting gawked at. "Did Tsubaki ever have a polearm form?"
"No." He shrugged. How hard could it really be? He'd studied his fair share about weapons, just in case Tsubaki pulled another form out of mid-air. It was usually close-range or throwing weapons though. "What do you mean 'polearm', I thought you were a scythe."
"I am... kind of." Maka held out her hand. "I mean it, no making fun of what I look like." Like ripping off a band aid, he took her hand and she let go. Transforming after so many years of repressing her form was a little painful. Like standing after hours of sitting on the floor. She had a short, black scythe blade that jutted straight up from a mahogany pole like a spear. Only a little longer than a morning star, she had no embellishments or ribbons. She'd blend in with any historical weapon in a museum.
"A war scythe, hunh?" She was sort of dead weight in his hands, heavier than the weapons forms he was used to fighting with. "Well, you're not burning me, or electrocuting me." The few test swings he gave were a little awkward, but manageable. "This could work." She transformed back abruptly and landed roughly on her back on the floor. "You can't keep doing that though."
"Sorry." She covered her blushing face with her hands. "I'm out of practice." She rolled back onto her feet as Black Star texted Kid. They had a lead, and there was no point in delaying the mission any longer.
