"I'd be happy for you, wherever you end up," A voice speaks to him earnestly from his side, their tone oozing with so much admiration that it has him crawling in his own skin. He couldn't do this, he thought. He couldn't wreck this person.
"I know you're not happy here. These past four years i don't think you've ever been happy."
He's suddenly standing by his side, his guard's helmet tucked under his arm protectively. "You don't deserve it; the way they've treated you with your eighteenth birthday coming up. Just because you're turning eighteen doesn't mean your life is suddenly over."
"It feels like it is," He answers too quickly, his vision suddenly swaying. He could feel his fingers and toes tingle as his knees buckled under the single thought of never escaping the four walls that surrounded him ever again. His fingernails are suddenly digging into his palms as warm tears slip in and out of his vision.
"I don't want to be here anymore." he says through a staggered breath. "I don't want to be here when they lead this country into war. I don't want to be the cause of so much hatred and unneeded destruction- please- please just-"
Soft hands cradle around his own, slowly prying his fingertips from his palms with care. His touch has always been so calming and sweet; so soft and mundane. A touch that was familiar from his childhood years that always soothed his worries.
He wished he could comfort him sometimes in the same way; wished he didn't need to worry about the immense pain he was about to bring his way. He didn't deserve it, not him. It didn't matter if he'd never feel the same love for him as he knew he did for him. He didn't carry a torch of emotion in his name, but he still cared for him.
"Breath, Soul. Just breathe." His words soothe over him like a calm ocean wave. "You couldn't even hurt a fly if you wanted, I get it."
Blood.
His blood.
"You're not a bad person, you never could be," He comforts him, lacing their fingers together. His own hands are shaking and it takes him a moment to realize he's reopened the wounds on his hands, causing blood to seep through their interlocked hands.
He doesn't seem to care though; he never cares about that stuff when it comes to him.
"You're not like your parents, you don't have to be. You know that right?"
"That's what they expect of me, to be their little carbon copy- that's what everyone here expects of me. I'll never be free if i don't get out of here- I'll always be their little puppet, please-"
He's wrapped against another body of warmth in seconds, his head cradled against his chest protectively.
"I don't expect that of you, you know. I just want you to be happy, Soul."
He sobs until his throat hurts, sobs until both of their shirts are covered in tears, sobs until he finally makes the decision that he can't stay here anymore; and he wont. He makes the decision that night to leave and leave him behind, despite him being the only thing to have tied him to this Earth for so long.
He makes the decision a week later to kill him.
The only person who was ever there for him.
Soul sways in front of Maka's bedroom door, his fingernails digging into the bandages covering his palms. Blood seeps through the once white bandages, but he can't help but shake the nervous tick of his.
It's been about two hours now and Maka has refused twice to open her door. It wasn't like Soul had any intention of staying in her room today, especially after his conversation with Blackstar the previous day, but he would still appreciate some information about what the hell that was all about.
He couldn't wrap his finger on why exactly the Princess had trapped herself into her room. Did it offend her that he said he wouldn't take her out of the castle again? Was she overwhelmed with the fact that he'd gotten hurt?
It didn't make sense; it didn't add up.
There was something along these lines he wasn't reading into. There was no reason for Maka to be so prominently ignoring him now.
Frustration prickled at his skin, but he was soon pulled from his thoughts when he heard footsteps trailing up the tower. With a finger dragging over the handle of his sword, Soul peered over the railing of the staircase only to be met with the curious gaze of the royal advisor.
"Soul," He'd greeted ominously. Soul never remembered catching his name, but they had several interactions since he'd become a guard.
"Hello," He returned carefully, hand slipping from the handle of the sword, "Is everything okay?"
"It's good to see you again." He ignores his question as he finishes his way up the stairs, seemingly out of breath. His eyes glance down to the closed door of Maka's room before they fall back onto him. "How are things going so far?"
"Everything has been just fine," He speaks softly, watching the royal advisor's gaze shift to his wounds on his face.
"Did something happen?" He questions hurriedly, causing Soul to bring up a defensive hand.
"Nothing to do with the Princess," he reassures, "I tripped on the gravel one night going back to the guards quarters. I forgot a lantern."
The advisor seems to take his word, pushing that issue aside as he pulls a crumpled scroll from his pocket. "That's good to hear, I suppose. I wish you all the best on your recovery." He pauses, clearing his throat. "I'm here to inform you of Princess Maka's itinerary for tomorrow. She will be having her final fitting tomorrow. It's requested that you are fitted for something nice as well, so it is recommended you don't wear your armor."
Soul pauses, taken aback by the sudden suggestion of him getting fitted for clothing as well.
"Pardon me," he buts in, confused. "You mean her guard has to wear something nice? Shouldn't I be on duty protecting her for her birthday celebration?"
"Someone will take your place on guard duty. Her highness requested that you were present at her party, as a guest."
Soul stares at the man like he'd grown a fifth head.
"When did this happen?" He asks kindly, hoping it doesn't sound accusing.
Blackstar and Kilik were not going to like the sound of this.
"Last night she informed us that she wanted to make changes to the guest list," The advisor answered peacefully. "Did she not inform you of this?"
"No, She didn't," He replies curtly. "Thank you for informing me. When is the fitting?"
"An hour after the sun has fully risen."
Soul only nods in reply, giving the advisor a wave as he makes his way back down the stairs with a hand tracing the brick walls on his way down.
With a new flurry of confusion, Soul rounds on Maka's door, knocking harder than he had the other two times he'd requested to speak with Maka again.
"Maka," he calls out in a harsh tone. "Were you going to tell me you invited me as a guest to your birthday party, or was it going to be a surprise?"
Suddenly the door is opening in front of him. Maka is standing in the doorway, looking more put together than she had when she first opened the door this morning.
"You said we were friends," She bites out bitterly.
Soul doesn't like the expression on her face. He doesn't like the way her eyebrows are drawn down angrily or how her bottom lip is sucked in just the slightest between her teeth. He doesn't like the way Maka's voice suddenly sounds like venom in his ears.
"Guess you're taking that statement back, right?"
"What? What the hell makes you ask that?" He doesn't like how his own voice echoes in his ears, and doesn't like how forcefully he sounds. He knows Maka interprets it the same way when he watches her finch back just the slightest.
"You showed up late, refused to tell me what happened even when I said I was asking because we were friends, and then promptly told me you were never taking me out again as if yesterday wasnt a good time! Doesn't sound like something a friend would say, honestly."
Soul blinks once and then a second time.
"So this is about me taking you out of the castle, isn't it?" He feels anger suddenly boil in his blood. Maybe Blackstar was right about everything. Maka was just using him to get out of the castle, wasn't she?
Maka had everything she wanted at her fingertips, though. What was there outside of this castle that could make her any happier?
Suddenly he was looking in a mirror.
Maka looks like she's been caught in a pair of headlights, frozen at the accusation. She looks the same way Soul remembered feeling when he had pointed out the fact that he was never happy when he used to live.
Maka was a lot more alike to Soul than he originally thought, wasn't she?
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Maka stumbled over her words.
Everything suddenly clicks in his mind like a puzzle. He should have seen it upon their first interaction when she'd requested to meet with him personally in private; having him refer to her informally, as if they were equals. She mentioned having seen Soul before, beyond the walls- saying that Soul was something else. She knew Soul would know what it was like beyond the walls.
That's why she'd ask him if he'd been beyond the kingdom gates and if it was truly as nice out there as people had said it was.
He thinks back to the way Maka showed up to the guard's quarters, begging him to have a warm breakfast with her. He thinks back on every moment Maka had invited him into her room, handing him a book insisting he'd like it. Thinks back to Maka pulling him around the castle, insisting he must explore the library with her because he'd love it.
He thinks back to the day before he brought Maka out of the castle.
She was trying to butter him up all along, wasn't she? She was trying to convince Soul that they were friends- that they were equal.
He thinks back to the gift she'd given him, an expensive one, at that.
Blackstar was right all along.
Maka was not the person she was trying to seem like she was.
"You don't have to lie to me," He suddenly speaks, forgetting his place. It didn't matter anymore, did it? He wasn't just Maka's guard anymore.
He was the guard Maka was trying to use to get out of here.
It all added up, it really did. He was the only person that stood out to Maka amongst the crowd of guards that she knew went outside the kingdom walls. His hair was white, she wouldn't be able to recognize the guards at a distance-but it wasn't hard to miss the white hair.
"I know how easy it is to use people," He tact's on in an airy breath, taking another step closer to the Princess with confidence, "I've done it thousands of times to get where i am now."
He thinks back to the place he used to live and all the people he hurt to make it to this damned kingdom in the first place, cringing so deeply at the memories. He wasn't any better than Maka was at this moment, was he?
"You just want to get out of here- out of this castle, and you thought I'd be the perfect person to escort you out, didn't you?" He's not sure why he's getting so angry, he didn't have a right to be after all.
This was just karma playing out.
Maka's facial expression changes, the weak and timid expression she once held changed into something fiery and dangerous.
"It's really bold to make an assumption like that-"
"Tell me why you chose me as your guard," He butts in, "And don't tell me it was out of curiosity."
Maka's composure all but breaks in front of him as she takes yet another step back, retreating into the safety of her room.
"What?" She hisses out. "Want me to sing you congratulations for finally figuring it out?" Her words are bitter, hitting Soul like a slap in the face.
But he doesn't care.
He should have expected it.
"God damnit, Soul," Maka's voice cracks as a hand of cards through her hair. "I wasn't trying to hurt you or anything, I really wasn't."
Fire is all Soul can see.
"What are you even running from? You have it made for you, Maka!" His words are harsh, pelting Maka like a gun. "You have a whole ass party being held for you, and you still want to leave?"
"Yes," Maka hisses out, pulling her hand from her tangled hair. "God, Soul, I never asked to be a Princess. Who wants the weight of a kingdom on their shoulders?" She's yelling, but her words aren't getting through to Soul. "I'm not built for this type of world, the politics, the fancy life, sitting in a castle all day until I decompose! I want to be out there," She dramatically points out to her open balcony doors, "I want to be alive! I'm so sick of just living, training to be some mindless zombie for the rest of my life. Every year brings me closer to inheriting the throne, and I don't want it!"
There are tears slipping down the Princess's cheeks now, but Soul can't bring himself to care.
"I want to be out there, with the people! I want to travel and see every damn little thing this awful world has to offer before I die! I'm so sick of looking at this world through books. I just want the taste of freedom!"
Soul takes one last look at the Princess before he's prompt walking out of the room.
"You're so selfish."
