Reunion
01 – Her Return
Author's note: I began writing this in June 2009. Chronologically, it is set roughly around chapter 62, after Soul becomes a Death Scythe. It may be rendered incongruous with the timeline by future developments in the manga, but hopefully the story has enough merit to stand on its own. Please read and review! Thanks.
"It's been a while," Maka said.
Soul ran a hand through his hair, unkempt as ever. "Yeah, long time no see,"
They looked each other over. Three years. The changes were visible. She had a fuller body and longer hair – still tied in twin tails though. He was rather tall now, with a physique to match. The air grew heavy with awkward silence.
Words went unsaid. Feelings were shut away, to be later mulled over in private. Instead, they walked up the street to the local café. They found alfresco seating on a gazebo that overlooked the rest of Death City.
Soul asked the waitress for his usual. Maka had to request a menu.
The clouds moved gently across the stark blue sky, casting dappled light on their table. He watched as Maka squinted to make out the words between the shifting shadows. Her brow was furrowed in concentration. Just like when she pored over books in the school library oh-so-long ago. The memory brought an unbidden smile to his face. He'd be laughing over comics with Black Star, while Maka tried to shush them, pointing at her book to indicate that some people were trying to study.
"Why are you smiling?" He was pulled out of his reverie.
"Oh, nothing," Inwardly, Soul sighed. He used to know Maka. But the girl sitting across the table was an unknown quantity to him. How much had she changed, really? The conversation thus far had been neither particularly warm nor cold. He turned his gaze to the setting sun, whose mouth was agape in mid-yawn. The waitress brought him his drink.
"I can't really decide on anything," She handed the menu back.
"Well, you can share mine. I can vouch for its chocolaty goodness."
She looked taken aback, for just a moment, before smiling. "We'll need another straw, please,"
Soul tried to hide his mixture of joy, relief and surprise; it wasn't cool to lose one's composure. He hadn't really expected her to take up the offer. As he grappled with this new turn of events, the waitress returned with a straw. Maka's eyes widened as she took the first sip.
"This is really good! I can see why you like it,"
He flashed one of his trademark grins. "Yeah, I come here most evenings, to blow off some steam and relax with a glass of my favourite drink,"
"Alone?" she asked, looking concerned. His heart skipped a beat before his mouth took over.
"Yeah, Black Star's too noisy, and Kid would criticize the furniture, or something." He paused, then added quietly, "It's been kinda lonely ever since you left,"
She appeared not to notice this last comment – her face remained inscrutable. Soul decided to shut up and drink. Maka just so happened to have the same thought, causing their foreheads to collide briefly.
"Gomen! I didn't mean to..." she began.
"It's not your fault," he interrupted. Her face was flushed with embarrassment. Was this really his meister? She used to be comfortable with physical contact – heck, they wouldn't have been able to fight otherwise. This was not going well.
As night fell, they headed back to the apartment. Despite her time spent away, Maka still knew the winding pathways like the back of her hand. She ran ahead, taking in the sights, noting what had changed and what hadn't. Soul trailed a little behind, hands in pockets, as she scurried from house to house. He couldn't help but notice that her stride was the same – elegant, confident and athletic. It was her, alright. What had changed between them, then? They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. He knew it was true. Did she?
When they reached their destination, Maka was appalled at the condition it was in. It looked as though he'd never bothered to clean it since she'd left. Magazines, clothes, and plates of unfinished food were strewn across every available surface. He looked a bit sheepish, and offered excuses. "Been busy with Death Scythe business, y'know. Running around, doing errands for Shinigami-sama, banishing evil, etcetera,"
Maka looked unconvinced. "Well, as long as I'm here, I won't stand for this mess. We'll start cleaning up in the morning." Threading her way carefully through the debris, she made her way to her former room. "I bet there'll be cobwebs all over – "
She gasped. Her room was in an immaculate state. Were the floors... polished? She gave Soul a quizzical look. He looked even more sheepish this time round. "Er, I know you don't like a mess. So I cleaned your room up when I heard you were coming back,"
"B-but... even the books..." she trailed off. It was on a night like this that she'd tossed her favourite books into a duffel bag, unable to see clearly through the tears, just wanting to disappear as quickly as possible. She'd left her collection in a mess...
"Yeah, I got Kid to come over and arrange them. It was pretty funny, watching him agonize over whether to arrange them categorically or symmetrically," He leaned against the doorframe as he spoke. "In the end I had to blindfold him so he wouldn't pass out from the asymmetry."
Maka laughed – an experience that she hadn't truly enjoyed for a long time. For years she'd been wandering, lost and alone. Now, back in Death City, with a grinning rogue in her doorway, she finally felt at home.
"Good night, Soul,"
"Good night, Maka,"