61. Accuracy Kid
He was speechless.
His eyes never wavered from the black ooze coalescing under the broken window. It moved as if it was alive, shifting like tentacles in water until it collapsed on itself into a single form, only to continue the odd movements in a repeated, almost non-ending cycle. He was still processing what had occurred moments before.
His eyes slid over to the shaky form of Crona, her arm still outstretched, fingers clenched in an awkward half-bent position. She appeared as if she was an animal trapped in a corner. This wasn't good. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he assessed the situation at hand.
Crona, was in blunt terms, a witch. But not just any witch—the black blood witch. A taboo creation fueled by hatred of whoever conceived her. He had heard stories of such witches existing but never considered he would be betrothed to one. His father warned him of such creatures that would want to cause harm to others for grudges long lost in the past. His father also mentioned there could be witches that would want to harm him in the future. Was he so easily deceived?
As these thoughts raced through his mind, he finally glanced at her face. All notions that Crona was designed to cause pain flew out the window as he observed her expression. His body relaxed, the concern for her replacing the uneasiness from before. She seemed conflicted, tears welling up in her eyes as she stared at him, body shaking, but otherwise still in the same position. If she was a killer that intended for any of this to happen, she wouldn't have hesitated, nor stayed in her same position this whole time.
She looked terrified.
The accuracy of his thoughts were revealed when he took a single step in her direction. She reacted immediately, eyes widening as a few tears fell, her body jerking back. His face morphed into one of understanding. He didn't fully comprehend why this was happening or what she had been through, but he knew the scared expression of something she couldn't control.
"Crona…"
As he softly spoke her name, he held out both his hands, taking another step in her direction. This caused her to panic, raising the arm not dripping in darkness in his direction as if to ward him off. He didn't get far when a firm knock disturbed them, followed by the concerned voice of Liz. He mentally cursed as Crona yelped, slamming her back into the wall behind her. Liz must have heard the commotion.
"Everything's fine," he choked out, daring a glance toward the currently closed door, hoping she wouldn't intrude into this sensitive situation.
There was a cautious response from her followed by the muffled shuffling of her walking away. He released a shaky breath he hadn't known he was holding. Once he was sure she was far enough away, he turned his attention back toward Crona. She hadn't moved much from her spot, back still pressed against the wall and her arm still hovering in the air as if she was afraid to touch anything with it.
Relaxing once more, he began his approach to her. She quickly shook her head, muttering her disapproval at his advance. She had nowhere to go, nor did it look like she could get very far with the state she was in.
"Crona, it's okay…" he whispered, making an effort to keep his voice steady and his movements slow.
"No, please... " she murmured, her voice shaky.
He ignored her plea, placing himself right in front of her, blocking any escape routes she would attempt.
"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you," he breathed, hands raising upward.
"Y...You don't understand. I don't want to hurt you," her voice was merely a whisper, cracking between syllables.
"You won't," He offered a small smile, his hands curling around her exposed forearms.
"No!" A sharp gasp escaped her lips, tensing at his contact. He trailed his hands up, engulfing her trembling hands into his bigger ones.
"See?" He kept his face neutral, the small smile still in place. "You aren't hurting me."
He was lying.
The moment his fingers grazed over the darkness coating one of her hands, it burned. The sensation tingled against his palm, scraping away his skin second by second. He locked his jaw, trying to appear as normal as possible for her. Eyes wide and mouth quivering, she slowly relaxed against him. Cautiously, her fingers wrapped around his in return, the shake in her body slowly evening out.
A small wave of relief washed over him as the oozing darkness coating her hand slowly dripped off of her, evaporating into thin air. The pain subsided, leaving only a numb rawness in its wake. He was thankful his theory on her emotions being a factor in how her magic spiked was true. A whine slipped past her lips as exhaustion overtook her. Her eyes slid close and she fell forward into him, her forehead landing against one of his shoulders. Keeping one of his hands around one of her hands, he wrapped the other around her back, giving her better support.
His eyes trailed to the side, following the fading darkness that had resided under the window. It seemed to have not harmed any of the wood and the only thing broken was the glass in the window. His mind whirled, attempting to come up with a plan to get that fixed without alerting a lot of people. His eyes drifted back down to the top of Crona's head, his hand rubbing small circles against her back.
He wasn't sure what the whole situation was, but he knew she hadn't meant any harm. He would hate for there to be a witch hunt in his own house over the woman he was betrothed to. He would do everything in his power to keep that from happening.
Indulging in their unusual closeness, he pressed his nose into her hair, relishing in her softness.
62. Irregular Orbit Crona
The tall, looming structure was before them now, its silhouette stark against the bright, laughing moon behind it. Behind the dark, wooden doors, muffled music beat in time to the flickering lights in the windows, showcasing the type of party Crona had undoubtedly been invited to. A cold wind blew past them, sending a shiver to run through their body. Crona was still unsure as to why exactly they were here in the first place, doubting why Maka insisted they would have fun at such an event.
Gathering up whatever courage led them through the streets to here, they lifted their hand, knuckles brushing against the handle on the door. Crona stopped, their bottom lip slipping between their teeth, as they struggled against themselves to open the door. Were they supposed to open the door or was knocking the appropriate action?
…
Would anyone even hear over the thumping music?
Before Crona could stew in their own thoughts for the rest of the night, the door was yanked open, bright lights briefly blinding them. They blinked, eyes adjusting to the light as they refocused on the female in front of them. Both pairs of eyes glanced down to Crona's still held out hand. With a small squeak of embarrassment, Crona jerked back their hand, clinging to the fabric of their dress.
"Oh! Are you here for the party?"
Swallowing thickly, they observed the blonde female before them, eyes doing a quick scan up and down her body. She was shorter than them and her hair was cut into a bob around her face. Unsure about their voice, they gave her a sharp nod, shuffling uncomfortably in their spot.
"Well, come in!"
Without a moment's notice, the blonde latched herself onto their thin arm, tugging them inside with little resistance. They stumbled in, feeling like an outsider almost immediately. They tried to keep their gaze focused on the short girl dragging them, but their gaze shifted to the amount of people that mingled in the main room.
It was massive and the amount of people squished inside seemed impossible. They felt instant regret as they were pulled away, plopped somewhere random in the room. The short haired girl slapped them on their arm with a loud laugh only to melt back into the crowd, almost merging with the lights and bodies that swayed.
It was loud.
Unnecessary so. Between the flashing lights, the loud chatter, and the blaring music, it was hard to latch onto a single thought. One of their hands lifts to press against their arm, slowly sinking back into a corner. Their blue eyes snap from person to person, searching for the one reason they were here.
Where was Maka?
Their sandy haired friend insisted they come, and yet she was nowhere to be found. Bodies bumped and nudged them further away from the main crowd. An uncomfortable sweat began to form the the back of their neck, masked only by their high collar top. How could anyone even enjoy an event like this?
They continued their backward retreat, expecting their back to bump into a solid wall. Unfortunately, they underestimated where exactly that blonde girl left them and instead found their shoulder crashed into another shorter person.
They whip around with pinched eyebrows, an awkward noise already leaving them as they prepare to be scolded for their misstep. Instead, they were greeted with a palm, up as if to placate them.
"Excuse me, but may I?" He twists his hand, gesturing toward their neck.
"Huh?"
"Your shirt collar is at an unflattering angle." The words offended them at first, dipping their chin down as if they could see what he was describing. Then, they frowned, brows pinching together in confusion at what that could possibly mean.
In the end, the other took their tilt of their head as agreement, or maybe he just didn't care. His fingers, warm against their skin, readjusted their messy shirt and pulled it taut. He then flattened it out against their shoulders and they couldn't stop the flush that spread from the touch of those fingertips.
"There, good as new." His smile was beaming with pride as he met their, still, confused gaze.
They simply stared at each other for a moment, the silence being smothered under the loud music that still blared within the house.
"Ah, my manners," He smooths down his own shirt before offering out his hand, this time for a handshake. "Death the Kid. I hope you are enjoying the party."
Death the Kid.
It rang a bell in their head immediately, reminding them of who owned the city. This was Death's son. The odds of bumping into him was low, even more to be approached by him so casually. An irregular orbit, one could say. Someone that seemed so far out of their own circle, that it was odd to be interacting like this. It was only thanks to Maka that they were here. They would never have drifted into him otherwise.
This exchange was odd. This whole party was odd. They found themselves shaking his hand before they realized, nodding their head.
"Crona. I don't… really go to these things." It wasn't something they did.
His smile only widens. "First time? I hope this makes a lasting impression on you." He steps by them, a hand landing on their shoulder. "I would try the punch. Excuse me, I have other guests to greet."
The warmth left them alongside the hand as he brushed past, disappearing into the crowd. Their gaze lingered on his back until he was out of view.
That was oddly pleasant.
They turn toward the refreshment table, weighing their options on if the punch was worth lingering here anymore. The nice conversation, despite it being strange to them, was enough to convince them to try. Maybe they would find Maka along the way. The tiniest of smiles lifted the corners of their mouth as they made their way.
They wouldn't mind going outside their normal orbit more often.
63. Cold Embrace Kid
Cold, long fingers pricked at the sensitive skin of his neck and he flinched back on autopilot away from them without thinking. Gold eyes met blue, regret appearing in the later as they pulled away with an apology slipping between chapped lips.
"Sorry…"
"No–I'm sorry." He shifted with them, moving closer but not yet touching them.
This was awkward. He could feel the amusement in both Patty and Liz as he kept them tucked under his cloak. It was easier to keep them warm in gun form, but it certainly wasn't easier to ignore them. He could only imagine what Ragnarok was saying to Crona. He could already hear the sneering tease. He frowns at that, lifting a hand palm up in Crona's direction.
"Here,"
The palm is inspected, contemplated, before finally they placed their own cold palm into his. He released a contented sigh at the warmth that was passed between them, shifting his hand until his fingers brushed against their wrist just under their sleeve. They were more hesitant to follow his movements, apprehension scrunching their features. Eventually, they shifted, shoulder bumping into his shoulder, cold fingertips gliding around his wrist in return. Their brows stayed pinched together.
"...It's only to stay warm." His breath misted around them as he exhaled his words–reminding them both that was the only reason to touch. His eyelids closed briefly, fluttering open a few moments later to reexamine the other's face.
The worry never left the frown on their face, blue eyes dancing around everywhere but looking him in the eye. It was awkward. To press into each other's bodies–for any occasion–was strange for them. The two barely had any physical touching to begin with, the most prominent being a hand on a shoulder or elbow. Or to help up after practice.
Casual and brief interactions. Never any full body hugging or cuddling.
Blood rushed to his face, redness from the cold already masking the warmth that ate away at his complexion. He hid his embarrassment, head tilting away as he shifted closer. Shoulder brushed shoulder as he slipped his free arm behind Crona, wrist digging into the cold ground while his elbow wrapped around Crona's lower back.
Crona hesitated far longer than he had, breath catching in their throat. He felt the physical movement of the swallow of air that crawled its way back up their chest. He stayed tense against their side, afraid to exhale his own breath. Afraid to ruin the frozen moment they found themselves in.
The silence of their cold embrace lingered between them. Far longer than he had anticipated. His thoughts raced and he felt inclined to move away, to forgo his own comfort for Crona's instead. Who cares if they both freezed for the night. Making up his mind, his body veered back, planning to return to his previous position next to them.
He didn't make it very far. Their nails scraped his wrist as their grip tightened on him, pulling him toward them once more, almost desperate. A sharp breath escaped him as his chin bumped into their collarbone, eyes shooting up to meet their gaze. Both of them froze, tense shoulder grazing his cheek.
"Sorry, I…" Crona choked on their words, warm breath caressing his skin, making his eyelashes flutter.
As if they had practiced it, both sets of eyes flicked downward, observing each other's chapped lips. His tongue dashed out against his lower lip while their bottom lip disappeared behind their teeth.
"This tension is killing me." He sucked in a breath as Patty's voice echoed clear as day in his head.
"Quiet…" He whispered, gaze falling down to their lap.
"Oh–Sorry. I–" Crona mumbled, shame creeping up on their cheeks.
Panic shot through him as his gaze snapped back up to Crona. "Not you!" Curse Patty, as her laughter filled his mind next, followed by a soft scolding from Liz.
"Patty was talking and…" He sighed, unable to fully explain why he felt such embarrassment, nor the tension in his body.
"Oh." They shift, uncomfortable. He briefly wonders if Ragnorack said anything.
"Listen," He straightens, making eye contact with Crona once more. "It's only for a night, but we need to stay warm. We should get comfortable and…" He gestures with a nod toward them. As if that could explain everything that was going through his mind.
They soak up his words, gaze fluttering between him and their hands. As he was about to explain further, something shifted in their gaze, lips thinning into a determined line.
"Okay."
Relief floods his body, shoulders drooping at the acceptance. "Okay." He replies back.
The embarrassment still lingered, but it was easier. They had a mission to finish. It took a couple of minutes, but they found a comfortable position for both of ended up supporting them both, back against the wall, while he all but cuddled into their side. They held hands, tucked between them, while his other arm curled around their back, his hand finding its way into their coat pocket. It was warmer there. Crona's other arm was wrapped securely around his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his coat. He wondered if they were too scared to dip their hand into his pocket.
The warmth radiating between them brought instant relief from the biting chill that crawled its way inside the room from the outside. A much more bearable temperature while they shared their heat. They could sleep now and not fear being unable to wake up. Kid tried to ignore the way Crona's heart beat against their chest, an erratic rhythm. He also tried to ignore the teasing comments made by his partners.
It would be a long night, but at least it wouldn't be a cold one.
64. Frost Crona
It was early. Way too early for anyone normal to be awake. But here was Crona, sleep deprived in a booth at an all night night life of the city was slowly being burned away by the sun as it crested over the tops of the buildings.
The first rays of sun stretched across pavement and ice, casting a sharp glare of light onto the nearby windows and glass doors. Crona's gaze danced from the table they sat at toward the nearby window. A pattern of frost was scattered across the pane, creating an interesting effect as sunlight glared through it.
They lifted a chipped nail toward the window, warmth immediately chasing away the ice under the tip of their finger. It was fascinating to watch the ice melt to water from a simple touch. It mesmerized them so much, they didn't catch the blur of movement as someone walked by, but they did hear the ringing of the bell at the entrance of the diner.
They paid it no mind as they pressed the tip of their finger against another patch of frost, observing the droplets that fell from the contact.
"Crona?"
Tensing, they jerked their head in the direction of the sudden, deep voice. Pink strands of hair clung to their chapped lips as their wide, blue eyes stared up at the familiar man. Lips parted in surprise, physically unable to respond in kind as they gaped up at him.
It felt like years since they remembered speaking to him. He didn't look a day different. He had the same short cut hair and piercing golden eyes. There wasn't a speck of dirt on him and his clothes were pressed. The dark circles under his eyes was the only flaw they could see.
"...Kid." They finally respond, shifting in their spot. The name felt like gravel between their gums.
He laughs, relief crossing his features. "I saw you in the window and I…" He pauses, gaze shifting away in what appeared to be bashfulness. "Well, I wanted to make sure it was you."
That didn't surprise them. Years ago, they simply left. No explanation or reason. It was no one's fault but their own. They weren't expecting a reunion with any of the people they left behind, especially not Kid. Especially not in a random city far from his home.
When they didn't answer, he gestured toward the booth with his hand. "What were you doing here? If I may ask."
They finally remove their gaze and their skinny fingers find the cold coffee cup. They tilt it nonchalantly. "Coffee and frost."
"Frost?" He mused, gaze sweeping to the window.
"Yeah… well, it's right here and all." It felt awkward conversing with him again, but it also felt as if no time had passed at all. When they lift their gaze again, he's smiling warmly and nods at the booth across from them.
"Do you mind if I join you for a bit?"
Bold. He was always so bold. A wave of hesitation washed over them as their gaze lingered on the worn material of the empty seat. They weren't even sure how long they were going to stay here before they wandered onto the next town.
"Sure." Their voice was a bare whisper, eyes flickering up to him for a brief moment. He didn't waste any time in taking up the space as he removed his gloves and set them on the table between them.
The silence between them stretched on and after a few minutes a waitress came over to refill her cup and take his order. He ordered the same. It was only after she had reappeared with a new cup for him that he finally broke the silence.
"How have you been?" His voice was controlled, not revealing too much about what he was thinking himself.
"Fine." The lie was easy enough. Well, not a total lie. They were managing. To gather the strength to leave their abusive mother was a lot to process and to learn to be a different person. No matter how many years it has been.
Crona almost jumped out of their skin when a warm palm was placed against their fidgeting hand against their cup. When their gaze met his, something thick began to form in their throat.
"You didn't have to do it alone." HIs words were meant to comfort, but all Crona felt was guilt.
"I do." The clarification was important for him to understand. They were still understanding a world without her, even now. Despite that, they didn't push away his hand–his comfort. They would never admit it outloud, but it was nice to feel his warmth.
There wasn't much spoken after that. The silence lingered between them and it was nice. Comfortable almost. As if they had done this a million times before. Their only contact was the fingers that tangled together between them.
Crona found their gaze back on the frosted window, less than it was before as the sun's rays melted them away. And they would stay like that, well into the morning, brief conversations spurring between them as they watched the frost melt away into nothing.
65. A Moment in Time Kid
He was bored.
The line of shining armor glinted off the sun that filtered through the stained glass windows. Each knight was cladded in the colors of his kingdom, dark and foreboding. Only a sliver of their house colors lined the sash that wrapped around their chest and waist. It was meant to instill fear into any person who stood against them, but to him each one looked sloppy, undignified.
One after the other, each one kneeled before him and his father, pledging allegiance to their kingdom and promising to protect them should the need ever arise. Pawns in the game of power. A privilege to those without the knowledge of understanding what their lives actually cost.
And one had to become his personal guard.
A requirement he fought against on multiple accounts. He didn't need protection, especially not from someone who couldn't hold a blade proper. In fact, he could out maneuver any one of them. They should know that. They should know they were mere fodder, used to keep the blade from striking him instead.
His cheek pressed into his curled fist, half lidded gaze observing each one. Someone off to the side was announcing them by name. Boring things. He could care less who these people were. Though the faces weren't familiar, he noted the houses they came from. The parents of each one his father dealt with.
Nothing to do but wait to choose one from random.
Maka Albarn.
She met his gaze–rash and determined. A shiny moment for her, though her ribbon tied hair showed her inexperience. Or rather how she clung to childish behaviors.
Soul Eater.
He was calmer, though bored. His gaze lifted to greet his lordship, but otherwise seemed uninterested. Bored just as much as he was.
Black Star.
The over-eagerness of this one was annoying. He almost seemed to strain out of his position on the ground.
Tsubaki Nakatsukasa.
Respected name, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. Too timid or perhaps respectful. Typical.
Crona.
His brow furrowed. No last name. A commoner? The dark sash around their chest signified that they held no house. Although it wasn't unheard of for the common folk to rise within the ranks of knighthood, it was unusual enough in the moment to pique his interest. He halted the proceedings with a simple shift in his posture and a flick of his hand. The speaker's mouth snapped shut, the next name stuttering into silence.
The gathered crowd shushed, all eyes on him as he peered down at the helmeted individual. They hadn't even removed it to greet him. How disrespectful. It intrigued him.
"Crona?" Their movements were rigid, stiff, as he addressed them. They offered a tilt of their head, lowering their gaze to the ground.
"Why do you hide your face?" He regarded them expectantly.
There was a pause, a lingering panic rising in the shift of their armor. "... Personal preference, Your Highness." Their voice was muffled, unidentifiable. A frown worked its way onto his face.
"Why? Do you have a nasty wound under there?" He mused, scattered laughter echoing in the chamber. He silenced them with a sharp gaze.
"N…nothing like that, Your Majesty." The stutter didn't go unnoticed. He pursed his lips, debating if he wanted to further entertain this.
"Remove it."
The command was expected. For who dares hide their identity when being presented upon to the highest law. To be the personal knight of the Prince of the kingdom. It was foolish to even attempt such an act. And yet… it brought his attention immediately to the person in question. It was either ignorant luck or a very calculated move. He wasn't sure which one impressed him more.
They hesitated far longer than he should have allowed, but he was patient. He waited as their armor creaked with their movements, hands lifting to their helmet. Metal tapped against metal as they waited another second before pulling it off to reveal a bright, pink mop of messy hair. A unique color.
They do not lift their gaze to him.
"Shy?" Kid's voice rings out in a tease. He wasn't even sure where it came from, but he was amused far more than he was before Crona was announced.
"No… Your Majesty." There was a tremble in their voice, something he relished in.
"No? If that is the case." He rises from the comfort of his chair. The crowd reacts accordingly, muffled gasps of shock and tense apprehension for what he was about to do. The other knights go rigid on either side of Crona.
He takes his time, easing down each step with practice elegance. Although every eye was on him, he only had eyes for the tangled strands of Crona's pink hair. He stops in front of them, head tilted as he catches a glimpse of a cheekbone and fluttering eyelashes.
"I command you," With a bent waist, he leans down until his fingers dance under their chin. He feels the inhale of a breath as he gently lifts their head. "To look me in the eyes."
Crona allows their chin to be lifted and for a moment in time nothing else exists.
Piercing blue eyes bore into his own golden ones. The tips of his fingers ghost under their chin, thumb brushing along their jaw. An exhale escapes his parted lips as he stares in simple awe. There wasn't a single scar that lined their face. Nothing that marred them in any way or form. They were perfect. Besides the mess of hair that framed their face.
It was surprising. Only the best warriors were able to secure even a chance to be shown to him.
It was curious.
Whatever it was that he wanted to find in their gaze, he found something else–something more. A connection that sparked at his fingertips and up his arm. A tingling sensation that inched its way into his heart. He felt their jaw clench the longer they stayed locked in this staring contest. He gathered himself, fingers falling from their face.
"I hereby declare Crona as my knight." Although shaky, his voice echoes with authority to the remainder of the room. "The rest of you report back to your stations."
At his command, the other knights departed from the room. And if they gave any ounce of fuss over not being chosen, Kid didn't hear it. In fact, his gaze never left Crona as they bowed their head once more in honor of his decision.
"Quite an honor." He couldn't stop his lips from uttering those words. Possessive . Their gaze lifts to meet him and without breaking it, they rise to a stand. They were taller.
"The honor is mine, Your Majesty."