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Soul tucked his head between his knees, doing his best to take deep, cleansing breaths like the nurse instructed. He screwed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to see his vision tunnel any further, but the images were still there when he closed his eyes. Seeing the pictures was bad enough, but knowing that this could be—no, Sid said most likely would be—something that he would one day witness made his stomach churn and his blood pump loudly in his ears. The room felt much too hot all of sudden, and Soul was distantly aware that he was on the verge of passing out when he heard Maka’s voice, coming from very far away.
“What happened to him?” she asked the nurse, but her voice sounded so quiet compared to the thumping of his pulse. “Is he okay?”
He swallowed and tried not to think about what he saw, but there it was, the images on the screen, but this time with Maka’s face transposed on them. His stomach rolled.
“Soul?”
He felt a dip on the cot where she must have sat down next to him and a hand rest between his shoulder blades, but Soul didn’t bring his head up. He couldn’t look Maka in the eye, knowing what he did, that she could end up in this infirmary looking infinitely worse than he did now.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asked him gently.
How could she not know? Or, how could she know and be okay with this? How could anyone be?
Nurse Timmons spoke to Maka, since Soul clearly couldn’t. “Oh sweetie, Soul just arrived here after seeing the video from his Weapons class.”
“The video?” she asked.
Nurse Timmons responded gently. “It appears this is the first time your partner has been privy to what could happen to a meister during a mission.”
He heard her take in a breath and let out a small “Oh.” Maka had been a DWMA student practically since birth, so she had to know what the elderly nurse was talking about, even if she had never taken a class specifically for weapons. It was the video that showed what many meisters looked like after returning from missions. What could happen if their partners weren’t there to protect them.
“Oh, Soul,” Maka said, rubbing small circles into his back as Nurse Timmons left the room. “Those are just scare tactics that the school likes to use to keep us from being reckless.”
Well, it was doing a great job, then, because Soul was scared to death.
Her hand rested comfortingly on his shoulder, but he didn’t feel any better. “The video shows worst-case-scenarios, Soul. Something has to go seriously wrong for students to end up getting hurt."
Soul shook his head from where he sat, still doubled over. He finally found his voice. “We’re sitting in the school infirmary right now, Maka. It’s used every day. The video didn’t just show students getting hurt, it showed them being broken.”
“That doesn’t happen to all meisters—”
Soul squeezed his eyes shut harder. He couldn’t look at her. “There were body bags, Maka.”
She was quiet at that. Soul waited for more comfort to come, but it didn’t.
“I can’t—” he didn’t even know what he wanted to say. They were only twelve years old, for God’s sake. How was he supposed to deal with the fact that the only friend he’d made in years might die because he wasn’t strong enough to save her? How was he supposed to live with that threat hanging over his head?
Maybe he was just too weak for this. The other weapons in his class looked appropriately horrified at the images on the TV screen, but none of them had to run out of the room to be sick the way he did. The only one hyperventilating in the infirmary right now was Soul, so that obviously had to mean something, right?
“What if that happened to you?” he asked, a question he didn’t want to think about but had been at the forefront of his mind since the video started.
“I don’t know,” Maka said, her voice sounding less sure than it usually did. Soul looked up at that, cracking open one eye to look at her expression. Her hands where pressed in between her knees and her eyes were cast downward. “I’ve been living with this kind of reality since I was little, so it’s different for me. My Mama and Papa would come home from missions all banged up all the time”
She used the term “banged up” so casually that Soul couldn’t be sure that she understood the severity of injuries the video showed. Limbs twisted backwards. Empty eye sockets. Blood, blood, so much blood. This is what could happen if students weren’t careful. This is what could happen if weapons didn’t protect their meisters.
Soul had come to this school to learn to control his weapon powers. All he had wanted was to be able to hold a normal conversation without accidentally sprouting a blade. When did this escalate to him fighting battles and watching his meister get hurt time and time again? Why did being in EAT class sound appealing to begin with?
“Why do you want to be a meister?” he asked suddenly. Weapons had no choice but to come to the DWMA to learn to control their abilities. But meisters, they chose this life. Why would anyone subject themselves to that kind of danger voluntarily?
“Because I want to help people,” she said simply. But there were other ways to help people, surely. Ways that didn’t involve dismemberment.
Maka must have sensed this sort of thought from Soul, because she continued, “Meisters have to see videos too, you know.”
Soul peeked up at her again. “Of what?”
Her eyes seemed to be focused on something far away. “Kishins. What they do to people. How they manipulate people, and hurt them, and kill them.” A muscle in her jaw twitched a little, but other than that her face remained stony. “People die every day because of kishin attacks, and the only people who are capable of stopping them are meister-weapon pairs. But if no one volunteers for the fight, humanity will always lose.”
She sounded so much older than Soul felt in that moment. While he cowered in fear, Maka willingly signed herself up for war.
But would bravery be enough to keep her alive?
Would he be willing to die for her, if it came down to it?
He didn’t know. He just didn’t know.
“It’s okay to be scared,” Maka said quietly. “I’m scared, too.”
But her voice was still strong. There was always a strength in Maka that Soul lacked. That was one of his reasons for partnering with her. He’d hoped some of her courageousness would rub off on him, that maybe knowing her would mean he might get the chance to feel as brave as she was. But even with all that bravery, he could still see a girl who wasn’t even thirteen and already signing up to die.
“I don’t want you to die,” he said, which somehow felt like admitting to something very big, even though that’s what this entire horrible conversation had been about to begin with.
“And I don’t want you to die for me,” Maka said, finally looking back at him. Soul’s eyebrows shot straight up. Maka continued, “I know that’s what the DWMA wants you to do, if it comes down to it. But you shouldn’t be forced to sacrifice yourself, especially not because you think you have to. That’s not fair.”
None of this was fair. Absolutely none of it. Soul wished he could back out, could go home and forget all this weapon training and hero training and just be a kid again. He’d live with being second best in his own home if it meant being second best and alive.
But, no, he couldn’t do that.
If he dropped out, Maka would still fight, just with someone else as her partner. He couldn’t take the risk of seeing her name on the news back in Virginia, a brave girl who was struck down saving people, but her new weapon just wasn’t quick enough to save her. Soul would never be able to live with himself.
“Look,” Maka said, sounding sad. “If this video is giving you second thoughts about being my weapon, I can’t say that I blame you—”
Soul shook his head sharply. “No.”
“No?”
“No, I’m not having second thoughts.” Soul clenched his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. He hoped this was right choice. “I still wanna partner with you.”
“Even though something bad might happen?”
“We’ll protect each other,” he said, trying to sound as sure of himself as Maka sounded. If he could keep her safe, he had to believe that she’d do the same for him.
Maka smiled a little and nodded. “Protect each other, and protect the people.”
His pulse was still pumping loud in his head, but he forced himself to ignore it. This was the choice he made and he’d stick to it. He wouldn’t let either of them die, not if he could help it.
Protect each other. Protect the people.
Try not to die.