Part of Soul cursed the world. He was so close- so close to attaining that untouchable happiness that had always wavered over his head. So close to finally moving on with his life- finally accepting that maybe it was okay to start anew. Maka made him want to feel alive rather than just simply live. He hadn't felt like that before- and there Maka was, offering that sweet feeling of happiness on a silver platter.
The world hated him, didn't it? It made him a broken person, forced him to grow into someone he wasn't. It made him believe that he had killed his dearest friend, only to push them back together in a messy dance. It made him believe that after years of trying, he'd made a home for himself- only to have it ripped away from him. After all this time of believing he couldn't love in this life, the world gave him a little taste of it- and now it was about to be ripped away from him.
He couldn't think selfishly on this matter, as much as he wanted to.
He had a kingdom waiting for him- a brother who needed him by his side. He made a whole ballroom in shambles because of his presence. He had to do something. He had to leave with Wes and Kid. He had to find a way to get Medusa and the rest of Cinder's assassins far away from the kingdom of Eibon.
He couldn't have any more people swept into the crossfire of his actions.
For a fleeting moment, he pretended he was okay with it. As Wes, Kid and Ragnarok spoke outside of the room he'd called his own for four years in quiet whispers, he pretended he was okay with leaving with them.
As Maka sat beside him, clutching his hand silently as she watched Blackstar bandage him up, he pretended that love had never ignited.
He was always good at pretending, wasn't he? He could do it again. Pretend his life in Eibon never existed- but he knew he never wanted to do that. As easy as it was to think about, he couldn't do it. He couldn't pretend his persona, Soul, never existed. He couldn't pretend he didn't love the exhilarating feeling that came with wearing the golden suit of armor he knew as his uniform for four years. He couldn't pretend that his friendships with Blackstar, Kilik, and the rest of the guards meant nothing to him. He couldn't just forget about Maka- couldn't forget about the way her lips felt against h is- the way they felt pressed together under silk sheets.
He couldn't just simply step out from his life in Eibon and step into this new role that was supposedly waiting for him in Cinder.
He wouldn't have traded the memories he'd made here for anything else in the world.
When Blackstar tore off the last pieces of bandages, Soul found himself standing, forcing Maka to let go of his hand. He walked to the corner of the room, shucked off the torn and bloodied shirt, and dug through his dresser to find a pair of fresh clothes to put on under his armor.
Again, he pretended. He pretended that the tears welling in his eyes weren't there. Pretended that the slight tremor in his hands was nothing but a fluke as he changed carefully and swiftly.
"I'm going to step out for a moment," Blackstar announced to no one in particular. "I'll go see what I can help plan out."
He listened to his friend's retreating footsteps, listened as the door creaked open and shut.
With an almost saddened sigh, Soul realized he'd been left alone with Maka.
"Soul," The Princess had called out dejectedly, her voice wet. Soul refused to look up as he pulled on one of the first undershirts he grabbed. "Soul, please," She tried once more to no avail.
Willing the tears in his eyes to dry, Soul ignored Maka's voice as he pulled his armor on and seized his sword. The moment he sheathed his sword into its holster on his belt, hands were pulling him weakly toward the cots. He complied, letting Maka tug him down onto the corner of one of the beds,their fingers intertwining.
"Can we talk please-" Her voice cracked and as Soul looked up from the floor, he caught a tear sliding down her stained cheeks. "Are you just going to sit there in silence, or are you going to talk to me?"
This time, a wet chuckle left the back of Soul's throat. He couldn't help the tears that seeped through his closed eyelids as he dipped his head down, resting them on their intertwined hands.
He tightened his grip around Maka's fingers.
"I wouldn't have left Loew if I knew this would be the last time I got to see you," Maka admits sadly. "I should have been selfish- should have told you to run away with me-"
The last bit of selfishness that Soul feels himself holding falls from his lips.
"We don't have to stay here anymore," he mutters, his eyelashes fluttering against Maka's cold hands," You can come with me. We can run away from this place, just you and me. I promise it can be better than this."
The second the words leave his lips, he regrets it.
Visions of him and Maka swim through his mind- hands interlocked as they walk the markets of Eibon- feet rushing against carpeted floors as they chase each other about the castle- feet in the grass, hands skimming the trunks of trees as they run through the gardens of the castle and into the forest- swords clashing, masks breaking-
He wonders how different life could be if they abandoned it all. They could pretend these lives never happened- start over somewhere fresh-
"Really? Do you mean that?" There's hope lacing Maka's voice.
Soul hates the way he lies to Maka.
He knows deep down, he can't do that. He can't be selfish anymore.
He, so badly, wants to sweep Maka off her feet and take her away from all of this. He knows Maka would let him, too.
But he can't.
They have two different paths set for them right now.
"I wish we could," He finds himself saying, pools of tears falling from his eyes. "Maybe if it was a week ago, I would have actually done it. Pulled you away- been selfish."
Maka laughs. It's filled with sorrow. "If you had asked me, I would have said yes. I would have let you take me anywhere."
Soul doesn't bother to look up. "This doesn't bother you?"
"What?"
"This," Soul reiterates, tugging Maka's hands closer, "My past. Everything that just happened in the ballroom. You found out in the worst way possible and yet, you're here, with me. You're saying you would have run away with me if I had asked you to."
There's a moment of hanging silence as Maka scoots closer to Soul's side, pressing their shoulders together.
"I meant it. I meant everything I said last night," she admits, dropping her chin onto Soul's armored shoulder. "I couldn't possibly see you any different- it's shocking, it's scary- but I don't blame you for not telling me. I don't see you as some atrocious person. I heard the stories about what happened in Cinder, but I never really believed what happened was the full truth- especially after the war that broke loose a few years ago. I don't blame you for not telling me. I don't blame you for what happened in the ballroom. My guards can handle that, I know they can. I still just want you."
Sadly, Soul deflates at her words.
"You've known me for a month, how can you say that? After all the lies I told? After everything I caused?"
"Doesn't matter how long I've known you," Maka insists, "You've made me feel more in one month than I have in my entire life. That counts for something."
A shaky breath leaves Soul- something between a sigh and a laugh. "I know what you mean. I feel the same way." He presses his tongue against his bottom lip, tasting blood as he takes in a harsh breath. "Perfectly imperfect, huh?"
"What do you mean by that?"
Now, Soul raises his head. Tears are still dripping down his cheeks, but nevertheless, he smiles.
"Right people, wrong time. We're perfectly imperfect for each other."
He watches carefully as tears well in Maka's eyes, the realization of his words kicking in.
"Soul?" She says carefully, as if it was the first time saying his name again. "Please, please don't leave me."
He can't help but shake his head.
He couldn't fool himself any longer.
As much as he wanted it- as much as he wanted to put this new blooming romance above everything else- he knew he couldn't. Staying with Maka would only bring more harm- more sorrow.
"This was only the start of something- you deserve better than I could ever give you, anyway," Soul speaks with all the truth he can muster, " I promise you, you can forget all about me in time."
Anger floods the Princess's face, her cheeks darkening in color.
"Who said I wanted to forget about you?" Her voice rises, her grip on his hands loosening. "We just started, that's not fair."
Tears cascade down her fair cheeks, a hiccup of a breath leaving her.
He's never seen Maka cry before, has he?
"You have a castle filled with people that can replace me."
"I don't care!" She booms, loud enough for the people outside of the door to hear. "I don't care- I just want you-"
Soul leans in, dropping a kiss to the Princess's warm forehead. A broken sob leaves his lips as his entire body shudders.
Tears of his own are rapidly racing down his cheeks as he pulls away.
"I never wanted to hurt you," Soul whispers against her cheek, "I know we said no more secrets, but I promise this is the last one. Okay, Maka? I promise."
Maka looks to him like he's lying- or maybe like he'll disappear if she blinks, Soul cant tell. His eyes are flickering back and forth, examining his face like it's the last time she'll see it.
"We have to go our separate ways," Soul finds himself saying, "you need to stay here, and I need to find a way to bring my kingdom back together. I can't risk you getting stuck in the crossfire again."
"Tell me you'll come back, then," Maka pleads, pulling their hands up and against her chest. Soul stares down at his blood-stained clothes and feels his heart drop. "Don't tell me this is goodbye. Tell me you'll come back for me."
Soul doesn't know if he can.
He doesn't know where life plans to take him next.
So, instead, he leans in and captures Maka's lips for the last time, and hopes that's an answer in itself. He hopes this isn't a goodbye.
He leaves his bedroom, Maka still sitting on one of the cots crying to herself. He wants to turn back around and comfort her. He wants to fix everything that's been broken. He wants to pull her into his arms and tell her everything's going to be alright, that maybe in due time he could return. He knows it'd be a lie.
He doesn't know how long it'd take to fix Cinder. In the amount of time he's gone- Maka could move on. She could be married off and forget all about him. He hates to admit it, but he's not okay with any of that. He doesn't want Maka to move on- he doesn't want to move on himself. He wants everything Maka has to offer and more- but right now wasn't the time.
He doesn't know if he'd come back. Doesn't know when that would be.
It sucks.
He's never known anyone like Maka before.
Everything he wanted was so close- and yet, so far away.
The second he steps out of the room, he's slamming the door shut. The group in front of him finches visibly, eyes scanning his face in concern.
He wipes his cheeks carelessly, sniffling.
"What's the plan?" He ends up asking.
Wes, concern clearly written on his face, clears his throat. "We need to go back to that ballroom and find Medusa. If we want all this to go smoothly, she's our last obstacle."
Kid nods. "We need to take Medusa out before we can go any further with our plans."
