Chapter Text
It is the dawn.
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“Crona, I’ve finally found you!”
Crona lifted their head, glancing up at Maka and sighing.
“I didn’t think you would be able to find me here!” Crona cried, lifting themselves out of the hole that had been their solace for an impromptu game of hide-and-seek.
“It was way too easy, silly!” Maka grasped their small hand and pulled, yanking them up easily and nearly ripping Crona’s arm out of its socket.
Maka stared at Crona’s black dress, which had uniform diamond shapes at the bottom and currently looked like it had been soaked in a pool of mud.
“You’re all dirty.” She commented.
“S-so are you!” Crona blushed, their cheeks dark.
Maka got busy brushing the dirt off of both her and Crona’s dresses. Dust puffed up and shrouded the stone ground in a light brown coating, as the mid-morning sun pushed itself through the gaps in the tall city buildings. Crona coughed.
Maka and Crona, no more than 6, were told to go play nearby while their parents talked. About what, the kids didn’t know, so they found a grassy patch in the park to entertain themselves.
“Lady M-Medusa will probably come get me soon, I wish I could stay longer with you.”
Maka swept her fingers across Crona’s face, struggling to remove a spot of dirt. Shivering, Crona tentatively let her clean off their face, finding it comforting.
“I want to stay longer with you too.” Maka stepped back, inspecting them for any more dirt.
“Thank you,” Crona exhaled, “Lady Medusa will get mad if I’m dirty.”
Maka puffed, “She’ll just have to deal with it!”
Maka was growing increasingly irritated with the way Crona’s mother seemed to be treating them.
They looked over to their parents conversing- their flowers were in full bloom. Spirit’s geraniums, which used to be pure white, had recently begun fading into pink, causing a bit of tension and worry in Maka’s family. Spirit was obviously making googly-eyes at Medusa.
Maka’s mother, however, had strong, bright gladioluses whose peach color had not changed as long as Maka could remember. Maka’s flowers had barely come in and were only a few sprouts at this point.
Maka and Crona had met just a few months ago- Maka had been out on the street near her house when she found Crona curled up behind a wall, so shrunken into themselves that they were almost ingrained in the earth. Maka had talked to them and urged them to share what was wrong.
“I-I uhhh.” Crona’s whisper was hoarse. They sniffled a bit. Their face was blotchy and pink, and they looked like they could cry again at any moment. The tiny shrub of thorns shuddered against their back.
“Yes?” Maka pushed only a bit, trying not to make them too uncomfortable. She saw Crona’s fingers clawing at the grass.
“I ran away. From Lady Medusa.”
Maka sat there silently, listening to them explain further. She got most of the story, piece by piece.
“When I make her mad, she hurts me. But she always seems to be mad, so she… always hurts me.” Crona’s look of absolute dread was what made Maka eventually throw her arms around Crona, holding them close, feeling them stiffen and then slowly relax.
“Hey,” she whispered, “Will you let me be your friend?”
“Um… really?” Crona began to sniffle again, their tears dripping onto Maka’s leaves.
Maka began to recite a calming lullaby that she’d heard her mother sing to her many times.
Hush little baby, don’t say a word, Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird…
Maka and Crona had sat there for a while, Maka telling Crona about any mundane thing she could think of to get their mind off of their troubles, and holding their hand tight.
Of course, it couldn’t last, and Medusa eventually stumbled upon the both of them.
“I can’t even imagine what people would think if I lost track of you!” She had yelled at Crona, seizing their arm and wrenching them away from Maka.
Crona received a smack across the face.
“O-ow! Stop it! I won’t run away again, I promise, just please don’t hit me, please, it hurts!”
Crona said that they hadn’t been out of their house since then. Maka didn’t know what to do with that information.
Maka tore her gaze away from her parents and grabbed at Crona’s hand, beaming. Crona squeezed, thankful for the grounding touch.
“Oh, hey, that’s a really pretty rose sprouting from your back,” she commented, “It’s blooming even bigger than the last time I saw you.”
Crona shuddered, their teeth chattering.
“I hate it,” they grimaced, “I hate it so much.”
Maka’s face fell.
“Hate it? Why?”
“I- well, I,” Crona swallowed, “I’m so scared.”
They stood there in silence for a while, Maka mulling over this information the best she could. She glanced back and forth between Crona and the ground.
“We’re moving soon.”
“Huh?”
“We’re moving away, to a place called Death City!” she met Crona’s gaze and smiled, but the sadness was evident in her eyes, “It sounds pretty funny, but my mama told me there’s a school there that teaches kids how to fight.”
Crona eventually found their voice again.
“Fight? Like hurting people?”
“Y’know, like ‘combat.’ For self-defense or fighting crime. Only special people get in, so I’m gonna work extra hard and maybe I’ll get to go there when I’m older!”
Crona faltered, “You- you’re going away.”
“Well, uh,” Maka wavered, “Yes. I have to go with Mama and Papa.”
Maka almost let go of Crona’s hand, but then squeezed it even tighter.
“I’ll wait for you.”
“W-What?” Crona started.
Maka grinned thoughtfully.
“We’ll see each other again, I just know it. So, wait for me to find you, it won’t be long, I promise.”
Crona looked down.
“I believe you.”
“Kurona, come. Now.” Medusa had suddenly walked back over to the children. She snapped her fingers and Crona jolted, toddling over to stand behind their mother, 4 feet away as always.
Maka cocked an eyebrow at the strange pronunciation of Crona’s name. The name Crona’s mother used for them, even if it was only slightly different, send a jolt of dread down Crona’s spine.
“We’re going home, I hope that girl didn’t plague your mind with whatever you two were talking about. And I trust that you did not say anything about me, either.” Medusa began to walk down the street.
Hush little baby, don’t say a word…
“No ma’am,” they lied, following after her. They glanced back, panicked, only to see Maka standing a distance away, watching wide-eyed as Crona left.
And for 10 years, Maka Albarn was lost to the nothingness of time.
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Medusa’s heirloom sword always set her on edge. The long, sharpened blade, the dark hilt, the way it seemed to whisper to her in the middle of the night… That thing stayed locked in the glass case where it belonged.
A fear of children, however strange it seemed to her sisters, was still the burden she had to carry, similar to everyone else’s. This phobia would kill her in some way, just as the phobias of billions of others was what brought about their demise. How ironic that the woman’s own flowers, sprouting out of her shoulders and flowing down her arms, represented motherhood. The pink carnations wilted and became yellow, and when it was rumored that the woman was pregnant, everyone believed that the child would be her downfall.
Medusa attempted everything to get rid of the baby inside of her, however dangerous. All of her efforts were unsuccessful. When the child was born, she never bothered giving it a name, feeding it as little as possible and keeping it in some dark room somewhere so she didn’t have to look at it. She only took it out when convenient- usually to impress her family. She had to teach it to speak and made sure it knew the bare minimum of how to live life in general for when she brought it out in public. After all, quite a few people around the area that she lived in knew that she had a child, and she wouldn’t want anyone getting suspicious of her.
She came up with so many cruel punishments to teach them to obey. Locking them in a cage for days at a time, making them wait on her hand and foot until they collapsed from exhaustion, or even, in some cases, beating them with whatever object that she found closest to her whenever they would get too close. She had never been this violent before, usually choosing to stay out of most of her family’s business, but something inside her had changed once the baby was born. She took all of her aggression out on the source of her fear.
Medusa eventually named her child- but only after discovering that it was afraid of the black rose emerging from its upper back. Thorns soon arose, thorns that twisted and clawed and broke through into the child’s very consciousness. As if everything Medusa had done up to this point hadn’t been enough, she named her child “Kurona” to represent the darkness of their terrified soul.
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“…na! Kurona!” Crona’s eyes snapped open, examining the dark room in a hurry. They got up from their resting spot on the cold floor and made an effort to determine where the voice was coming from. Black leaves curled around them, trying to make themselves visible in the edge of Crona’s vision. They trembled slightly, brushing the leaves back where they belonged. When they heard another shout, they rushed off into the dimly lit hallway.
Crona eventually found the source of the voice in the dining room. Medusa, on the phone, was twirling some pasta on a fork and tapping her crossed leg incessantly against the leg of the table.
“…Yes, I know that… Oh? You have other news? Let me hear it then…”
Crona approached their mother carefully, making absolutely sure not to get too close. Medusa didn’t like it when they were near enough to touch her. They shuffled a bit, staring at the floor.
“Kurona, bring me a glass of wine.” Her long, bony finger pointed in the direction of the kitchen offhandedly.
“Yes, ma’am,” they hurried off into the other room and busied themselves with picking out a glass from the cupboard and fiddling with the cork in a long bottle of what they assumed was wine.
“…don’t understand why my sisters are being so confrontational with the academy…” Medusa’s conversation carried in from the other room and spiked Crona’s interest. They hesitated as they were about to pour the glass, stopping for a moment to listen in.
“…only took out a few of their subordinates, if they didn’t threaten them so often, then they could stay under the academy’s radar…”
Crona knew that their family runs some kind of shady organization, and are always getting in trouble with the law.
But what’s this about an academy? They thought. They heard Medusa’s footsteps scuffle around in the other room, pacing.
“…this one girl has been especially troubling. What was her name? The short, blonde one with the pigtails and long coat. Martha? Mia? Well, that doesn’t matter…”
Crona searched their memory. Why did that sound so familiar?
“…anyways, I have to go. It’s going to take a while for me to fix this problem that my sisters created.” The phone clicked shut.
Crona realized what they were supposed to be doing and almost panicked trying to pour the wine as quickly as they could. They sloshed a bit onto their hands and set the bottle down carefully before speeding into the dining room.
“Aren’t you finished yet-” Medusa was unexpectedly standing right next to the entrance and Crona couldn’t stop themselves before they slammed into her, spilling wine all over her front and dropping the glass onto the floor where it broke into a million pieces. Medusa was knocked down, and Crona was stuttering as soon as they realized what they just did.
“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Medusa screeched, her arm flying at Crona’s face. Sharp nails scraped across their skin and suddenly Crona was on the ground, disoriented and clutching at their cheek.
“Get out of my sight, now! Now!” Medusa kicked at Crona’s ribs as they scrambled to get up and rushed out of the room. Something shattered against the wall in the hallway right next to Crona’s head. As soon as Crona realized that Medusa was hurling glass shards at them, they dashed into a nearby chamber, grasping their injured face and breathing heavily. They heard a door slam.
Crona stayed curled up on the floor for a few minutes. After they regained the courage to move, they opened their eyes and let out an unsteady breath. Shaking, Crona looked up and their eyes traveled down the length of the wall. Old, dusty picture frames immortalized generations of Gorgons. Their eyes bared down on Crona, piercing right into their very soul. Crona rubbed at the scrape on their face, shivering as they kneeled in front of their ancestors. They grasped near the bottom of their dress, lifting it up to reveal a history of scars, some mostly faded, others fresh and deep. They felt thorns uncoil from their upper back, thrashing about and cutting through their mind. A petal from their rose wilted and fell onto the ground before them.
Hush little baby, don’t say a word…
Something snapped deep within, and there was an unresting, determined spark in their eyes. The madness that they had built up deep within their heart after years and years of living this way was straining for freedom.
Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird
Out of the corner of their eye, they spotted it- the dark sword. It was whispering something to Crona that almost sounded like a lullaby. It’s voice raspy and low, it was calling out for them, wanting to be released and put to use. The glass reflected the light traveling into the room through the crack in the door as it smashed and scattered, millions of pieces raining down onto the carpet. Crona’s fist gripped the handle as it was forcibly wrenched from its display.
And if that mockingbird don’t sing
Their footsteps were silent in the hallway.
Mama’s gonna buy you a diamond ring
Medusa was hunched over the table now, wine splattered on her dress. She was murmuring to herself.
And if that diamond ring turns brass
Crona’s face was shadowed by the deepest turmoil. All of their thorns grew outward in painful tangles, wrapping around their arms and neck. The rose opened up, searching for sunlight.
Mama’s gonna buy you a looking glass
In an instant, the blade slid right through Medusa’s torso and popped out the other end, jamming into the table.
And if that looking glass is broke
Medusa didn’t even scream-it got lodged in her throat- she only gagged and coughed up blood. The sword was ripped out of her back and blood splattered across the smooth wooden surface.
Mama’s gonna buy you a billy goat
A whisper, “Kurona?”
And if that billy goat won’t pull
Crona grimaced, eyes blown wide. An unspeakable fear soared through their veins.
Mama’s gonna buy you a cart and bull
“Mother.”
And if that cart and bull turn over
Her neck craned, getting a better view of her own child standing there with her blood on their hands.
Mama’s gonna buy you a dog named Rover.
“You’ve finally done it. This was your destiny, I knew it.” Cold tears streamed down her face, contradicted by the most wicked smile. She laughed, the sound gurgling up from her throat.
“No.” Crona stuttered, “No, no, no.”
And if that dog named Rover won’t bark
“No, no, NO! You knew!? This is what I was made for!? It can’t happen! IT CAN’T!”
Mama’s gonna buy you a horse and cart
Crona’s heartbeat pounded heavily in their ears, like someone imprisoned deep within them knocking on the inside to get out.
And if that horse and cart fall down
“Do you think it’s funny that I’m afraid of you, afraid of my flowers, afraid of myself!? Well I’ve been afraid, just like you fucking wanted!”
You’ll still be the sweetest little baby in town
The blade ripped through Medusa’s side and dashed dark blood onto the carpet, droplets flowing down the glass ruins. Her arms came off next, both sliced off and dropped to the floor. As a final touch, Crona drove the sword straight through her throat.
So, hush little baby, don’t you cry
Her body sprawled out onto the table, the last of Medusa’s life gone.
Papa loves you and so do I
Crona straightened, eyes murky and listless.
“Maka. Her name was Maka.”
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The flickers of from the sun scattered across Crona’s face like starlight. As the door creaked open, Crona’s thorns began twisting and retracting. During the few days that Crona was laying there, unable to comprehend what they had done, the thorns had coiled out across the room, into the darkest corners, soaking up the blood like a leech and anchoring Crona in the middle.
Crona squinted from the sudden brightness. A rather tall, buff man was standing in the doorway, armed with a large knife.
“Who… are you?” Crona’s own voice didn’t sound human to them.
“We’re not going to hurt you… Uh!” The man noticed the deep red stains and the door flew open, exposing the corpse. It lay slumped against the table, one arm laying unattached on the ground. All of the carnations were now dead, the petals sprinkled around the carpet.
Another man appeared at the door, who was stopped by the knife-wielder’s arm.
“Stay back, someone’s here!”
The other man gaped.
“Sid, is that-“
“It’s Medusa,” Sid shined a flashlight on the body, “There’s no doubt about it.”
Crona fidgeted and curled themselves out of the position they were in on the floor, moving towards the light. They heard a shout-
“Alright, everybody initiate the operation! Do as we planned, and take the kid into custody without hurting them!”
Crona, barely teetering on consciousness, only felt themselves being lifted and placed onto a soft surface.
They murmured to themselves, “I… killed something. I don’t remember what it was though.”
**************************************************************
“Hmmmmm…”
Lord Death brought a hand up to his head, thinking.
“So, you’re saying that this child belongs to Medusa Gorgon, one of the Gorgon sisters, and that they murdered Medusa with the sword Ragnarok?”
Sid confirmed, “Yes, sir, as far as we know, they did. We found the child there while we were breaking into Medusa’s hideout after locating it- “
“You’re nursing the kid back to health, yeah?”
“Uh… yeah, of course. They were previously fading in and out of consciousness, but seem to be more stable now. We were worried that they would be violent once they realized where they were, but they’re only really expressing confusion about what’s going on around them.”
Lord Death hummed, “So, a Gorgon… a family that has such a long history of resisting the academy and police force, and now one of them is in our safekeeping…”
The headmaster shrugged, long vines waving about.
“Well that’s no good. Can’t exactly give a relative custody.”
Sid watched this one-sided conversation, puzzled, and eventually spoke up.
“Ahem,” Sid cleared his throat, “Uh, Lord Death. If I may, I think sending them to the academy would be the best thing for them. There’s something about them that’s so similar to this place and the other students that makes me think they would fit in here. But we don’t yet know how dangerous this kid actually is, because they were capable of killing their mother, or at least that’s what we believe. Lord Death?”
Lord Death only thought for a brief moment.
“Hmmmmm…. Yep, let’s do it!”
“Wait, just like that?”
“Uhhh, yah, just like that,” Lord Death said, “You’ve convinced me! They will be a great addition to the academy, and they should find it to be quite welcoming in Death City!”
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Death city is the one true place for the profoundly bold, running wild with untamed youth and blinding shadows. The streetlights course up the road like a river, stopping to flash forward with their deep glare and lead the way for all the lost souls headed toward the city center. The highest point houses the academy, complete with all of the stone cool lockers and phantom hallways a high school has to offer. This particular high school also offers combat classes, and the chance to protect the order of reality as we know it.
In the topmost reaches of the school, there’s a balcony that looks out over the shaded buildings. One can almost see as far as the deserted city limits, faded concrete merging with a sandy wasteland. At the very edge of this, there is a small lab sporting steel doors and artificial stitches. Inside, there’s a room with various medical equipment, green curtains, and a snoozing child.
Crona awoke suddenly, with a snake-like feeling slithering up their spine. They observed their surroundings, the white, the coolness of the sheets, the blinding sterilization and strong smell of rubbing alcohol in the air. They heaved, noting that nothing had changed since the few other times they had regained their consciousness.
They heard a sudden noise beside them, like something got bumped, and craned their head to see. A man, who looked focused on what he was fiddling with and brushing some unknown substance onto his dirty lab coat, was crouched down at a desk to the right of the bed. Crona strained to pull themselves upright, feeling their entire body scream in protest.
“Uh, uhh…”
The man slowly turned around- Crona observed the massive screw suck in his head- and blinked rapidly, like he’d been staring at one thing for the past several hours.
“Oh,” he commented, “You’re awake.”
He lifted himself from his position at the desk and examined Crona for a moment, crouching down to study their eyes and checking the IV on their arm.
“I’m still not sure… what’s happening. Who are all- all of you people and… h-huhh-how did I get here?” Crona suddenly recalled the others who had taken them from their home and to the lab. They remembered several faces staring down at them throughout the past few days, but couldn’t identify any of them. It was all so hazy.
“Can you tell me your name?” The doctor asked, reaching for some equipment. Some thistles poked out from underneath his lab coat.
“K-Kur…” they hesitated, mulling over it for a second.
“Crona… Gorgon.”
The doctor frowned.
“Just so you know, I’m Dr. Stein. I’m going to ask you a few more questions. I know these might be difficult to answer, but just do your best.” Stein busied himself with examining files.
“First off, what’s your mother’s name?”
Crona’s eyes grew wide and they focused their gaze on the plain, white sheets. They clawed at them slightly, feeling their shaking, rattling bones underneath their skin, with all of the scars littering the top.
“Mmm-m.”
“Yes?”
“Medusa. That was her name.” Their voice was filled with venom, they spit out her name like a curse.
“Now, Crona, I want you to concentrate hard for me, and tell me what happened that led up to this point. Whatever you remember about how your mother…”
Crona interjected, “About how my mother was murdered. I killed her.” Crona gagged, fighting for some sort of control over their emotions. Their vision flashed with the lucid memory of their mother being cut in half. They trembled and shifted their position.
“I stabbed her. Oh my god, I killed her.” Crona’s breath came out in choked gasps, hot tears rolling down their cheeks.
“Crona, I need you to calm down. Breathe. And focus.”
“Huuuh… I did this? With my own two hands? It wasn’t just a dream?” Crona looked to Stein for confirmation, almost smiling, chuckling as if it was funny.
“I shouldn’t have brought this up yet. It’s too soon.” Stein sighed.
His hand came down to rest on Crona’s head, who froze.
“I’m going to let you get more rest in a bit, but for now I need you to cooperate while I test your blood.”
While he got the vial and needle ready, Crona slowed their breathing, burying their face in their hands.
“S-Stein?” Crona felt a few more tears leak out.
“Do you know… uhh… what’s going to happen to me after… this?” They muttered.
“Listen, they debated what they were going to do with you, and they decided on an education at the academy. In normal circumstances, you’d be put on trial for your crimes, but Medu- eh, your mother was a wicked criminal we’ve been trying to eliminate for years, so we’re letting you off the hook.” Stein explained.
He then muttered, “That’s too bad, though, I could have had another subject to experiment on…”
“Wha…”
“Oh, nothing. Just a joke.” His smile was unnerving.
“Now, this is going to hurt a bit, but it’s necessary.”
Crona shuddered but held still as Stein drew a few vials of blood.
“Your blood color has almost returned to normal… it’s good that it didn’t get to the point of hypoxemia, but it may need to be treated every few weeks…” Stein mumbles to himself.
“Um, what?” Crona questioned, “What treated?”
“Oh, your red blood cell count is unnaturally high, so I’m thinking it might be polycythemia, but I’m not quite sure yet. Don’t worry about it.”
Crona, of course, began to worry about it, grabbing at their arm and shivering as Stein went into the other room to begin testing Crona’s blood.
Crona’s eyes shot around the open room, taking in every detail they could in their half-drowsy state. There were several other white beds, all made up and smoothed neatly. The LED light above was flickering every few seconds. Across the room, there was a large window with curtains, which were billowing slowly from the nighttime breeze. On the desk, there was a rectangular frame holding a picture of a blonde woman, who was beaming as her bell-shaped flowers gusted around in the morning light.
“The academy, huh…”
Crona’s eyes began to droop, exhausted by all the operations and nightmares that finally seemed to be coming to an end. They slowly contemplated what would await them in a few days’ time. Crona wasn’t even quite sure what an academy was, but they recalled their mother mentioning it, before…
“Kurona.”
Crona’s bloodshot eyes snapped open, alarmed by the drifting voice. It was without a doubt their mother’s.
“What… where-“
Medusa suddenly dropped upside down from the ceiling, her legs hanging onto some invisible force, her limbs stretching out to violently grab Crona’s face. Her carnations, turned pitch black, dropped and scattered across the room.
Crona screamed in terror, wrenching themselves from her grasp and throwing themselves off the side of the bed to try to get away.
“Mother! NO! DON’T TOUCH ME!” They screeched and lashed out, their fingers passing right through her.
The nearby door slammed open, followed by Stein rushing through in a panic.
“What happened!? Are you hurt!?”
Crona’s head swiveled back around only to see nothing in front of them, the ghost of their mother completely gone.
“It was… where did…”
Crona stuttered as Stein helped them back onto the bed, checking their body for injuries.
“I think I’m…I think I’m imagining things.”
“Hm. That makes two of us.” Stein remarked quietly.
“Huh?” Crona looked to Stein in a panic.
“Listen… Crona.” He gently grabbed their shoulders, urging Crona to look at him.
“I know you’re probably scared, and worried about what’s to come, but if you can, trust that none of us are going to hurt you. We only want to help.”
Crona nodded, their head fogging up, a drowsy feeling seeping in. The last thing they remember before they passed out was glancing back over to the picture of the blonde woman and imagining the bright sun overhead.
**************************************************************
“Well, here’s the entrance to the academy. I guess I should say ‘welcome home’ or something like that.” Sid scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. Sid’s flowers, poking out from under his tank top, were bright yellow and orange banksias that crisscrossed in every direction.
“Are you sure an academy is the place for me to go? I’m just not sure about this really.” Crona looked up at the morning light glinting off of the massive skulls. To any new student, the school looked intimidating as hell, but it was especially scary to Crona. The academy was too far up in the clouds, unreachable. It sat up with the sun, both terrifying beacons.
Wiping at the sweat on their forehead, Crona grumbled.
“It’s so hot… do I really have to climb the stairs like this every day?” Their flower wilted a bit, resting on the top of their head like a child getting a piggy-back ride.
“You’ll get used to it,” Sid’s enormous hand ruffled Crona’s hair with a bit too much force. Crona flinched back and stepped away a bit.
“Time to go.” Sid started up the staircase.
A small cluster of girls, three to be exact, was hanging out near the top of the stairs. They seemed to be arguing, or at least one of them was upset about something.
“I keep telling you, I need just as much practice with her as my partner during the two on two rounds as you do! You can’t have her as your partner every time!” The girl with the long, silky blonde hair sputtered indignantly, stamping her foot.
The smallest of the three, sporting black pigtails, exhaled, “I know, I’m sorry, I’ll try to remember next time…”
As Crona and Sid approached the girls, Crona faltered.
“Oh, there’s uh- there’s people here.”
“Yes, of course there are, the academy is full of students.”
“Everywhere?”
Sid sighed, almost nudging Crona forward to get them moving again.
“Yes, it’s a pretty big school. It’s full of a bunch of students around your age. You should be able to find someone you get along with, so don’t worry.”
Crona nearly whimpered and kept climbing the stairs, but noticed that the group of girls had seen them, and were now whispering to each other.
“Who’s that? Do you think it’s a new student?” An excitement seemed to buzz amongst them.
Crona winced, “Uhh. They’re looking at me. What do I do?”
“Oh, it’s a perfect chance for you to make friends. How about you go talk to them?”
Sid’s hand lightly shoved them forward, and Crona was suddenly facing the group, the girl with pigtails way too close for comfort. She had a little stem poking out at the top of her head, which looked like it could bloom any day now.
She gaped, “You ARE new, you look just as scared as I was when I first got here.” She smiled sweetly, not really thinking through her words completely, but meaning well.
“But don’t worry! There’s nothing to be concerned about here, it’s a wonderful place!”
Crona stared at her in utter confusion. Why on earth was she talking to them and why was she so friendly right off the bat?
“Umm… well, I-“
“Oh, class is going to start soon. Sorry, but we’d better go.” Sid interjected, his eyes on his watch, and led Crona away toward the entrance.
“Hey!”
“Wha-“ Crona looked back toward the girls to see the one with pigtails waving frantically.
“By the way, I’m Tsugumi, and I hope we can become friends!”
**************************************************************
Sid stepped into the classroom, leading Crona inside.
“I’m going to have someone show you around after class,” Sid glanced around the classroom.
“Where is she anyway? Class is about to start… Maka! Maka Albarn!”
Crona stiffened at the name. A girl popped her head up from amidst her group of friends on the other side of the classroom.
“Yes? Oh, professor Sid!”
The girl jogged over with a spring in her step. Yes, this was definitely the same Maka. Her blonde pigtails and soft green eyes had not changed, after all those years. Her flowers, though, had grown and come to a full bloom. Vibrant astilbes of all different colors cascaded around her body. With so many pinks, purples, reds, and yellows, it seemed like an endless range of hues fluttering around.
Crona was completely dumbfounded, staring wide-eyed with their mouth hanging open as she slowed to a halt in front of them.
“You needed me- Oh! Who’s this?”
“This is a new student. I thought you would be the best person to show them around later.”
Maka’s grin was blinding. “Sure, no problem! My name is Maka, what’s yours?” She looked at Crona expectantly.
“I… I- Uh… Crona.”
Maka’s face showed a hint of recognition.
“Wait…” She blinked, “Crona?”
Everything Crona could have said in that moment caught in their throat. They could only gape at her, probably looking like a dead fish.
The bell cut them off and all of the students scrambled for their seats. Maka motioned for Crona to follow her and led them up to her bench. They hurriedly sat down beside her.
Everyone was getting settled and taking out their books when they heard a terrified shriek coming from out in the hallway. They sat there in confusion as they listened to the commotion going on outside the door before the teacher entered, looking shaken.
“Nothing to worry about, just a little spider. I had Stein take care of it for me.” She forced a smile and quickly walked to her desk. The teacher had long, wavy blonde hair with white Canterbury bells braided through it. They bounced slightly as she walked; she moved a bit awkwardly due to her large baby bump that was obviously in its later stages.
“OK!” She clapped her hands together. “Let’s get started! Oh, and we have a new student!” She glanced up at the seating.
“Your name is…” her eyes scanned the page on the desk in front of her, “Crona Gorgon?”
The class stirred. Groups of students started muttering. Crona’s ears picked up on several things.
“…I heard about them…”
“…yeah, news travels fast…”
“…killed their own mother…”
“…the kid with the pitch-black roses. What a disgrace…”
Crona began to shake, curled in with their hands grasping at their sleeves. They looked to Maka, who offered a comforting smile.
They cleared their throat, “Y-yeah. That’s right.”
“My name is Ms. Mjolnir, but you can just call me Marie, if you’d like. Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?” Marie offered.
Crona froze.
“Uh… no…” Crona mumbled, “No.”
“Alright, that’s fine!”
Crona sighed heavily, feeling defeated as they slumped into their chair, staring down at their hands. They were quivering even more heavily now, and getting the sudden urge to fade out of reality.
“Ok, let’s begin the lecture then! We’ll be continuing where we left off yesterday.” Marie took a moment to open her laptop.
“Now, as we know, our flowers represent our life force, the driving force behind our mind, body, and soul. We can lose some of our flowers without it affecting the body- but once a certain amount are removed, it can affect our mental condition and physical health.”
Marie pulled up an image on the projector- a greenhouse filled with flowers.
“Because small amounts of flowers can be detached, scientists have been able to plant clippings and grow them separately from the person. They’ve been examined for special properties, but they have not been proven to be different from regular flowers.”
Crona picked up on a dark chuckle from behind them, and slowly turned before a white-haired boy caught their eye. He had his feet propped up on the table and was smirking, revealing sharp teeth.
“Any questions?”
Maka raised her hand, and Crona whipped back around and tried to sink into the chair.
“Yes, Maka?”
“All of our flowers have different meanings, right? Can you explain more about what that means?”
“Yes, of course!”
“There is actually an official online database that explains what the flowers mean in detail. For example,” Marie typed “Canterbury bells” into the search bar of the website, “The symbolism behind my flowers is ‘Gratitude.’ I try to always be thankful for what I have because of this.” Her hand unconsciously passed over her stomach.
“There are always going to be people across the world with the same types of flowers as you, and you may have encountered people with the same type already, due to some being more common than others.” Marie’s eyes focused on Crona.
“I wonder…” Marie entered “black rose” into her computer, catching Crona’s attention. They actually wished that they could just descend down under the desk and disappear right about now.
The search, strangely enough, generated no results whatsoever.
“Huh, that’s strange…” Marie pondered, then smiled at Crona.
“Well, you must just be a special case! How unique!”
**************************************************************
Crona followed Maka around to every class throughout the day, miraculously being given the same schedule as her. They didn’t know what to say to her, so they kept quiet as they trudged through the hallways, semi-dreading the end of the day when they knew they would have to go back to the single dorm room they were assigned. It was nice and all, with a wide-open space and a soft bed, but they just felt like something would go terribly wrong if they were left alone. Every horrible thought would crawl back into their mind, scratching and demanding entrance. They felt one of their thorns twitch.
“Crona?”
Crona looked up from where they were following behind Maka. They had subconsciously been keeping four feet away from her as she led them around. Maka stepped toward them to try to bridge the gap.
“Hey, I know that…” Maka exhaled, “That we probably have some things to talk about, things like what has happened and all, but don’t worry about it for now, okay?”
Crona let her edge closer, feeling her subtle warmth and brush of the fabric on her arm against their shoulder.
“I-I..”
“Yes?”
“It- It’s you. You’re Maka. It is really you, isn’t it?”
Maka tilted her head in confusion, a faint smile growing on her lips.
“Of course, it’s me, silly, what do you mean?”
“Yo, what’s up, Maka?” A hand patted Maka’s shoulder and squeezed.
Maka squinted upwards and saw a tall girl with long, dirty blonde hair and her signature bootcut jeans towering over her. Here daisies were beautifully white, perking up and wisping around.
“Oh, Liz!” Maka greeted her.
“And Patty!” Liz’s shorter sister exclaimed, jumping out from behind the corner, with her sunflower swaying in midair. “What are you still doing here, Maka, our last class ended like 20 minutes ago.”
“Oh, just showing Crona around. I figured they would need a lot of help with navigating the school.”
“Crona, huh? I saw you this morning, you seem like an alright kid.” Liz held up her fist. Crona stared at it, worried.
Liz exhaled, “Hmm. C’mon, a fist bump? Don’t leave me hanging.”
Patty creeped up and gently took Crona’s hand, curling it into a fist. Liz took a step forward and lightly bumped her fist with theirs.
Patty dropped Crona’s arm and threw her hands into the air.
“Yaaaaaaay for you, you did it!” Patty squealed, trying her best to be supportive.
Meanwhile, Crona was nearly dissociating.
“So, Maka.” Liz leaned in.
“Are we still hanging out after school? Tsubaki made some pumpkin pie, and everyone has to try it, it’s totally sweet... I might have stolen a tiny piece while she wasn’t looking.”
“Oh yeah, of course!” Maka glanced around, “I don’t know where Soul went, he was supposed to wait for me so we could go pick up some coffee.”
“We keep running out cause he’s drinking so much every morning,” she complained. “He’s not getting much sleep at night.”
“Sounds tough, is he okay?”
“I hope so. Oh yeah, about that,” Maka’s outstretched hand reached toward Crona, nearly jabbing them in the face, “Would you like to come to my place after school? We’re all hanging out there, it would give you a chance to meet everyone.”
Crona knew this was their chance to stay out of their dorm room later, to not have to be left alone. A nagging feeling told them they won’t accept you, but they shoved it to the back of their conscious, putting in their best effort to finally form a coherent sentence.
“Yes. That sounds… wonderful.”
Crona accepted Maka’s stretched out hand, and they felt something bloom.
Patty jolted and looked at something above Crona’s head, “Whoa, that’s so cool!”
Maka gaped, pointing out what she was looking at to Crona.
Alongside Crona’s black rose, something else had blossomed- A bright yellow rose, curling up and bursting open like a sunrise.
“Oh.” Crona said, breathlessly, and craned their head, trying to get a better glimpse, “Oh, uh, it’s never done that before,” Crona looked down bashfully.
Maka stepped toward Crona, lacing her fingers with theirs, “It’s beautiful.”
Crona blushed madly.
“No- it’s not, not really. Well, maybe I’m just sick of the thorns…”
“I mean it.”
Caught off guard by how ridiculously soft her voice was, they could only keep their eyes on Maka’s hand, which seemed to fit perfectly into theirs.
Maka spotted a clock on the wall, pulling her hand away from Crona’s to their dismay.
“Is it that late already? I’d better go look for Soul. Um, here, Crona, I’ll give you the address and try to explain how to get there, it’s not hard to find.”
**************************************************************
“Sister.”
A scorpion skittered along the ice-cold wall, coming to rest in a petite hand with stubby nails and an abundance of rings.
“Yes, Arachne? You called for me?” The young lady’s voice was threaded with mischief.
Arachne’s nightshades were her proudest feature, which she flaunted and took special care to take care of them and made sure they looked on point every day. Her sister’s begonias, though, appeared much more ruffled about, one of the many aspects about Shaula that bothered Arachne.
“You’ve already heard the news of Medusa’s death?”
“Yes, unfortunately, I have.” Shaula approached her sister.
“You don’t know who killed her, do you?”
“No, it was not explained to me-“
Arachne held up her hand to silence her. Rising from her dark velveteen chair, she strode over to her sister’s side and ran her hand along a frame on the wall.
“You remember Medusa’s odd fear… children.” She flicked away some dust.
“Oh my… I do! But you don’t think…”
Arachne chuckled darkly, “I remember when we were young and she would shy away from others, keeping even her own sisters at a distance, choosing the comfort of a dark room and solitude over the company of others her age.
“By the time we were nearly grown, Mother made it clear that she expected all of us to have children, to further the Gorgon bloodline. Medusa’s rage filled outbursts were one of the many things that haunted me in the middle of the night.”
“Arachne.”
Arachne turned, meeting her sister’s eyes.
“What was Medusa’s child’s name? I cannot seem to remember.”
“Ah, what was it? Oh, that’s it.”
Shaula strolled back over to her chair, and began digging in the drawer next to it, pulling out several faded photographs and flipping through them.
She finally held one up. Medusa was the most prominent subject in the photo, making threatening eye contact with the camera. But in her claws, she held a baby, which had already been scratched across the face and was crying incessantly.
“Kurona.”
Arachne set the photos down.
“Come, sister. We have some investigating to do.”
**************************************************************
It was the same as always. He’s dressed in a pinstripe suit, blood-red shirt underneath, sitting in a wooden chair. The record on the table skipped.
The demon entered, as always, snapping his fingers to the broken beat.
Soul scoffed, “So, you’re back, I get it, what sort of knowledge do you have to lay on me this time, you gross little piece of shit?”
The demon backed up, feigning terror.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” the Demon spoke quietly, but his voice carried throughout the entire room, “I’ve only come to ask you a question.”
Soul looked slightly perplexed. He glanced down at his poppies- oranges and reds poking up through his suit. He sighed and gave in.
“Huhh, alright, but make it quick, I’ve got some watering to do.”
The demon leered.
“Tell me, Soul, what is a thing?”
“The hell?” Soul grabbed at his suit jacket, his poppies brushing against his fingers.
“Just answer the question.”
“I honestly have no idea what you mean.”
“Your piano may just be an object to some,” he motioned to the other side of the room, and the curtains parted, presenting a grand piano, “But to you, it’s a thing filled with memories of your troubled past. It’s overrun with secrets.”
“Shut up,” Soul could barely manage to choke out, scowling and staring at the tiles on the floor.
“Every time you use it, it just becomes more and more important. And every time you refuse to use it, dare I say, it gets more important also, but in a different way than if you were playing it. The piano catches your eye, sometimes in the corner of a room, an old café, a ritzy hotel, a concert hall, a back alley, and your further experience with it only enhances the thingness of the thing.”
“Slow down, you’re not making any sense.”
“Take a window, for example.”
A window appeared, floating in space. Soul felt himself automatically get up and walk over to it like a robot that couldn’t resist its programmer.
The bright sun shone through the panes, mimicking a real window. Outside, he saw the view from his room-a twisted road, the apartment buildings, the stretching towers. He gripped the ledge of the window and grumbled.
“So, what’s your point? I only see what’s normally out there.”
“Look again.”
“Huh?” Soul did, and recoiled at the sudden coldness on his hands.
The clear glass window began to build up dirt, as if time was moving in fast motion, showing the unforgiveness of many years. It only got cloudier and cloudier.
“What do you see now, Soul?”
“Ugh, not much, all the dirt and shit is getting in the way.”
“You see, now you’ve noticed the window as something more, instead of just an object to look through. It’s inconveniencing you, isn’t it.”
Soul looked over his shoulder at the demon angrily.
“Yeah, so what?!”
The demon waved his hand. “Just keep your eyes on the city.”
Death City looked the same for a moment, but then began to change. It was slowly disintegrating, its buildings filthy and uninhabitable, the streets torn up, trash scattered about. The sky was impossibly grey.
“W-what the fuck?”
“Surprise, surprise, Soul. Nothing is going to stay the way you see it forever. Destruction of society is inevitable. In fact, it seems to be already floating away- in a place like this, progress is never made, things almost seem to move forward but then just bounce back to the way they were. People are simple and without ambition- endlessly running around in circles in their own minds. This is your world, Soul.”
Soul swallowed, his finger tapping on the windowsill and reverberating throughout the room.
“To change… is a violent process. There are going to be a lot of changes very soon.” The Demon said, walking over to Soul’s side.
“Now, tell me, Soul, is a dream a thing?”
“No way in hell. They’re not important to me. I would never have a dream again for all I care.”
“Ah, but here’s where you’re wrong. Dreams have much more of a meaning to you besides just a distraction during the night- they hold everything you are, they’re overflowing with your fears, Soul Evans.” His voice became darker.
“Your dreams are different from the dreams of other people. They’re something tangible, we both know that.” The demon’s hand came to rest on a flower pot. A small astilbe clipping poked up from the dirt.
“N-no, don’t touch them!”
“Why would I, I was the one who suggested you plant them in the first place, remember? I know it’s nice for you to have a piece of your friends here with you, it must be so hard.”
The pots were arranged with no rhyme or reason on the floor in the corner, the black curtain almost draping over them. The biggest one held the astilbe clipping. Another smaller one, next to it, contained a pink camellia. Next to that one was a square container, holding a small cluster of red cosmos and a blue hyacinth, bursting with color. The last pot held a sunflower and a daisy, huddling together.
The Demon’s hand disappeared behind the assortment of pots and lifted up a tiny, black vessel. The detailed glass ornamentation resembled thorns and gears, turning and twisting together.
“It looks like something new has appeared.” The Demon reached his hand out.
Soul let the Demon pass the tiny pot to him. He inspected it more, noting the fresh dirt already inside, waiting.
“Why’s it so small?” he held it in his hand delicately, like it would smash if he so much as fidgeted.
“Oh, it could be a lot of reasons- low self confidence or a lack of warmth throughout the life. Now, listen.” The demon said, and Soul looked at him, a spirit of a flame burning through his eyes.
“What are your friends to you, Soul? Are they living, breathing people, or are they simply flowers to keep you company in your darkest times? It’s amazing what your head can do while it’s filled with nothing but dreams. Rather strange, isn’t it? Do you want to keep dreaming, Soul? Soul?”
“…Soul… Soul!”
“Soul, stop napping, everyone’s here!”
“Huh-“ Soul was suddenly laying in his bed, still fully clothed from school. He had gone home immediately and flopped down to take a brief doze, exhausted because of his lack of sleep that week.
“Uh... yeah! I’m coming!” Soul gripped his head, trying to calm his intense headache, and forced himself up. He jolted and looked over to his windowsill, realizing what had just happened in his dream. The black pot had materialized next to the rest of the plants.
“Thanks to you, I had to go pick up coffee myself.” Maka yelled from outside the door as she was passing by.
“Geez, I feel awful…”
The smell of coffee filled the apartment, the cozy, afternoon sun cast harsh shadows inside.
“I had that same dream again.”
Maka handed him his coffee.
“The one with the-“
“Yeah, the black room and the…” He trailed off.
“I-I’m sorry.”
Soul sighed, “Don’t apologize.” He paused for a moment.
“But there was something new this time. Another pot appeared. Small and fragile looking, but… intricate.”
Maka eyes almost widened with realization when Black Star burst out of the bathroom.
“Is that COFFEE? I’m fucking THIRSTY.”
Maka groaned and got up off the couch to make sure Black Star wasn’t going to smash her favorite large mug while trying to pour coffee.
Soul closed his eyes and tried to relieve a bit of tension before turning his attention toward Tsubaki, who was curled up quietly in the chair. Her camellias seemed to be curling up with her, nuzzling into the warmest parts of her body. Blair the kitten looked perfectly content with snuggling into Tsubaki’s lap also. Tsubaki straightened and smiled softly.
“Are… you okay, Soul?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” He looked uncertain. He bit his lip. “You don’t have to worry about it. It’s nothing bad.”
Tsubaki appeared conflicted but nodded, clearing her throat.
“Um… how is your garden going?”
Soul suddenly looked a bit more at ease.
“Great,” he chuckled, “Uh, it’s going good? I still can’t get them to grow, but, uh, they haven’t withered yet, which I think is a good sign.”
“No, Black Star, don’t-“
Black Star bounded into the living area and flopped onto the other couch, holding an overflowing cup of coffee with at least 10 spoonfuls of sugar in it. He spilled some onto himself but payed no mind, setting it onto the coffee table.
“YO! When’s Kid gonna get here, I need to give him a piece of my mind for doing better than me on the quiz yesterday.” He cracked his knuckles. His hyacinths popped up, alert.
“Dude, he always does better than you. In every class.”
“Not in the combat class!” Black Star protested, flexing. “I can beat him up, it’s gonna happen soon, trust me.”
“Uhh, I wouldn’t be so sure…” Soul trailed off and sipped his coffee, thinking of how Kid completely annihilated Black Star a week before by slamming his face into the ground.
The doorbell rang. Maka huffed and stomped over to the door, and the moment she opened it, she was attacked by a flying creature.
“Heyooooo!” Patty tackled Maka and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, snuggling into her. Her sunflower coiled itself around Maka’s arm.
Maka patted her on the back, grinning slightly.
“Hey there, Patty.”
Liz popped her head in.
“Sorry we’re late, Kid had to stop and rearrange a fruit stand.”
She stepped in and pried Patty off of Maka before spotting Tsubaki, who waved at her. She shot across the room and curled up next to Tsubaki, looking content, with her daisies perking up.
“Hi,” Tsubaki brushed Liz’s hair behind her ear.
Liz breathed out. “Hi.”
“Black Star.”
Everyone turned their attention to the entrance, as a perfectly shined black shoe hit the floor. Red cosmos waved about slightly, both sides arranged in a pattern that perfectly mirrored each other.
“So, you’ve finally come, huh, Kid?” Black Star answered darkly.
“Prepare… to taste my fist!” In a brief flash, Black Star had lunged out, initiating the fight. Kid dodged easily and brought his elbow down onto Black Star’s skull. He jumped onto the couch with ease, preparing for Black Star’s next move.
“Hey, no fair! Get back here!” Black Star sprung into the air and aimed a kick at Kid’s head. Missing again, he was knocked down, but recovered quickly. He grumbled.
“Hey, not in the apartment, you guys! I don’t want something else getting smashed!” Maka protested, as if this was a normal occurrence.
Black Star’s fist hit the wall next to Kid’s head, narrowly missing him, but leaving a nice hole. They stared each other down, precariously close. Kid licked his bottom lip.
“You’re just going to have to accept that you can never beat me, Black Star, no matter how many times you challenge me,” he murmured, a sly smile playing on his lips.
Black Star’s voice was low for once, “I won’t admit that until I’ve tried everything I possibly can.”
They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer, before being interrupted by a timid knock on the door.
“Uh… hello? Am I in the right place…” their voice carried over from behind the wall.
Maka’s face lit up, and she sprinted to the entry way, nearly tripping over at least 10 things in the process. The door was flung open lightning fast.
“Crona! It’s you!”
“Am- am I late? I’m sorry.”
“No-no, you’re right on time!” Maka’s face flushed and she flailed her hands about, “Come on!” she reached for Crona’s wrist and grabbed it tightly, dragging them inside and letting them take a seat on the couch tentatively. Black Star and Kid had separated, Kid straightening his clothes and Black Star scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
Maka let Crona get settled as she brought them a small cup of coffee, the mug decorated with floral patterns and proudly proclaiming “hug in a mug” on the side. She also set sugar and cream down on the table, not knowing what sort of preference they had. Of course, Crona had never actually tried coffee before, and they took a cautious sip. Their face contorted violently as a little bit spilt past their lips and sloshed onto their dress. They reached for the chocolate flavored creamer.
“Everyone, this is Crona! We were actually childhood friends. It seems crazy that I’ve found them again.”
“I’m Tsubaki. It’s very nice to meet you.” She offered a smile, and her camellias seemed to wave in greeting.
Blair got up from her spot on Tsubaki’s lap and stretched, yawning, a little mewl escaping her mouth.
“Oh, and that’s my cat, Blair. We adopted her just a few months ago.” Maka remarked.
“You should recognize me!” Black Star had positioned himself on the back of the couch, looming over Crona, a finger pointing upward.
“I am the great future assassin Black Star and everyone in the whole world will soon know my name!”
Crona winced at his name for a reason they couldn’t quite grasp.
“Uh, no,” Crona shifted away from him, “Sorry, I don’t know you.”
Tsubaki coaxed Black Star down from the top of the couch, “I apologize for him, he’s always like this.”
“Tsubaki-“
“Black Star, please don’t make people uncomfortable…” Tsubaki lectured him like a thoughtful mother trying to control her rowdy kid.
“You met Liz and Patty earlier.” Crona was met with Liz’s offhanded wave and Patty flapping her arms about in a matter that seemed friendly.
“Ahem.”
“My name is Kid. Some people call me Death the Kid, but I don’t expect you to. No one else here keeps up that sort of formality. I hope you’ll excuse how disorderly and loud this group always is, you don’t seem like the type to be needlessly obnoxious.” He then whispered under his breath, “Unlike someone I know.” Black Star looked oblivious.
“His dad is the headmaster of the school!” Patty interjected.
“And, uh,” Maka gestured toward the other couch, “This is Soul. We share this apartment, we’ve been best friends for a few years now.”
Soul looked up from his mug and shot Crona a look that could either be interpreted as hesitantly welcoming or slightly threatening. Crona hoped it was the former.
Maka chuckled lightly, trying to diffuse the situation.
“Soul gets real tired a lot, so try not to blame him for being grumpy.” She glared at Soul, stomping over to swipe away his coffee he seemed to be so invested in.
“Crona’s yellow rose just bloomed today, I saw it!” Patty suddenly yelled out, like she was trying to hold it in while everyone was being introduced.
“Really?” Tsubaki’s interest seemed piqued, “Did you know that a yellow rose represents welcoming and friendship? Maybe Maka’s kindness is what caused it.”
Maka paused her struggle with Soul and jerked up, flushing.
“Well, uh, maybe.” She looked down uneasily, wringing her hands, searching for words, “…but I also think that your black rose is just as pretty.” She said, wholeheartedly.
“It’s not pretty. I’m…” Crona breathed out, “I’m scared of it.” They admitted.
“It terrifies me beyond anything I can explain.”
The room suddenly grew tense, as if a wave of unspoken terror washed over everything.
“Crona.” Kid snagged their attention, “I understand that you came from a rather rough background.”
Crona nodded, and felt their thorns tense up. The yellow rose seemed to be wilting.
“Has anyone ever spoken to you about phobias?”
The entire room stared Crona down, solemn. They focused on a stain on the floor.
“I’m not sure… what that is.”
Kid looked to Maka, who nodded, and approached Crona slowly.
“Everyone on this earth has a phobia. And…this phobia directly relates to what will kill the person.”
Crona’s mind lit up with the memory of what their mother had told them. You’ve finally done it. This was your destiny, I knew it.
“W-wha- you mean, this happens to everybody, not just me?”
“Yes, of course,” Maka’s hand rubbing up and down Crona’s arm was a comfort they didn’t know they needed.
“For example, I’m afraid of,” her voice quivered. She leaned in, moving closer to Crona. Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“I’m afraid of love.”
“Ohhhh…”
Crona’s mind examined everything it knew about the word love. It was a good feeling, right? Something that you’re supposed to feel when you’re around people that you care about, and that care about you? And Maka was scared of this feeling? It seemed unfortunate. Crona couldn’t think of anyone that could possibly feel love for them, not in any way. Their new friends- could Crona call them friends yet? - had only just been introduced to them, and their mother didn’t exactly cut it. Crona looked back to Maka, who was trying to smile in spite of just admitting something so deep and personal.
“I guess if we’re talking about it, remember who has an obvious fear?” Black Star interjected, crossing his arms smugly.
“Sid. He’s totally afraid of the statue of liberty. He basically vowed to never go to New York,” he shrugged, “And he avoids that one square in town. Y’know, the one with the giant statue?” He busted out laughing.
“There was a kid just a few months ago,” Soul spoke up. Black Star went quiet, and the whole room looked to Soul in worry.
“He was afraid of choking. He was biting his nails one day and, well…” he snickered. “Stupid motherfucker.”
“Soul.” Maka chided. Soul continued, not listening.
“Then, there was this other one that I heard happened a few years ago. In the crescent moon class, just like us.”
Everyone paused in anticipation.
“They were skinned alive and slathered in Germ-x.”
“Holy fuck.” Black Star whispered hoarsely.
“Geez, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Maka excused herself and headed into the kitchen.
“There’s some people I know who are only afraid of growing old. They’re the lucky ones.” Soul tapped at his mug, sinking back into the couch.
Crona had to sit there and mull over what they had just heard for a few minutes. Could it… be possible? That they were afraid of the color black? They had previously considered roses, but no, the yellow rose hadn’t triggered any sort of fearful reaction in Crona, it only made them feel a little warmer inside. But- Black? Really? Could their true name- Kurona -be connected to this? Everything Crona had experienced suddenly seemed to make sense.
“Hey.” Soul called out from the opposite couch, staring right at Crona, his red eyes disturbingly piercing.
Crona looked around. Everyone else had dissipated from the living area.
“Me?” Crona motioned to themselves.
He gestured to the spot beside him and Crona sat themselves down on the very edge of the cushion, nervous.
“Try not to stress yourself out over what they just said.”
“H-“
“About the fear. Some people let it control their lives. It makes for a much cooler time if you don’t allow it to.”
“Like me,” Soul began, “I happen to be afraid of dreams. I normally have the same kind over and over again. I could sit around all the time and wonder how dreams could eventually kill me, but I prefer not to.”
“But Maka… don’t let that deter you from trying to be her friend. What she’s really afraid of is romantic love. Being in a relationship with someone and letting her guard down.”
“She’s never really allowed herself to get very close to anyone,” Soul pauses, mulling over his next thought, “So far, I’m, um… the one that she’s put the most trust in? I’m her closest friend, but there are still times she won’t let me past certain barriers she’s set up.”
Soul looked resigned, but smiled still.
“But, it’s fine. She’s still my best friend I guess, so I just help her with what I can.”
Their eyes both traveled to the kitchen, where Maka was humming as she poured herself a cup of tea.
“Oh, by the way.”
“U-Uh?”
“I got something to ask you, just… don’t freak out, kay?”
Crona nodded, swallowing nervously.
“Can I have a piece of your rose?”
“Wh-wha-“
“Just like a clipping or something, nothing big.”
“But, why?”
“You’re our friend now, right? You’re part of the group. I have pieces from everyone’s flowers.”
Crona considered this for a moment.
“So? Whaddya say?”
“I guess so.”
Stretching, he set his coffee down and adjusted himself to get a better look at Crona’s thorns.
“Oh, careful, I’m pokey.”
Soul reached up and plucked a petal off the side of the large, black rose. Crona quivered a bit.
“Cool.” Soul held it in his hand, almost admiring it.
After a moment, Soul hoisted himself off the couch and went to his room, taking the petal with him.
“Psst, hey.”
Crona, slightly alarmed at the sound of the voice, looked to their left to see a hand waving from behind the cracked door.
“Crona? Can you come here for a sec?” Her face popped out, hopeful.
“Oh, yeah. Where…”
Maka held open the door to the room. They stood up and shakily made their way over to her.
It was obviously Maka’s bedroom, sporting tan colored walls, a desk littered with books, and various odd decorations placed in random places. The pink curtains cast a rosy glow throughout the room.
Maka’s hands were held out as an offering. Crona accepted, folding their cold hands in her smooth, warm ones.
“There wasn’t a day that I wouldn’t think about you.”
Crona’s attention shifted up. She had her eyes on their hands, her hair drooping down and framing her face.
“T-that’s…”
“I was so concerned about you, every day. I don’t know why those memories stuck with me so much. I think we just had a strong connection, our soul’s resonated so well.” Her fingers squeezed around Crona’s hands, thumbs stroking the backs, trying to warm them up.
“I remembered you too.” Crona inhaled shakily before speaking again, getting slowly more confident with their words.
“You were the only memory of friendship I had, the only time I can remember someone being truly kind to me.”
“Really?” Maka whispered.
“And I’m glad… that I’m with you again.” Crona’s smile could melt the coldest of hearts.
“At first, I was afraid that this was all just a dream. And that I would wake up somewhere dark, completely alone just like before.”
“It’s not a dream.”
After everyone had left, Crona stayed in Maka’s room until after sundown, the two whispering to each other like their friendship was a precious secret, grinning at each other bashfully and snacking on a few things Maka fetched from the kitchen. Maka was even able to make Crona giggle a few times, which she figured had to be one of her proudest accomplishments at this point in her life.
“Ok, so what’s this called?”
“Ice cream.” She handed them a tiny carton of ice cream that read “chocolate fudge brownie” and a spoon. As soon as Crona took a bite, their face lit up and they devoured the whole thing within 30 seconds.
Maka made Crona some herbal tea next- which she preferred over coffee- and let them pick a movie from her collection to watch. Crona took a while to decide, but eventually settled on When Marnie Was There. They couldn’t tear their gaze away the entire time, and Maka noticed a few tears quietly escape from their eyes more than once during the movie.
Okay, a few would be an understatement.
It almost broke her heart to have to send sleepy Crona home at the end of the night, after they had nearly fallen asleep on her floor. Maka waved them goodbye from outside the apartment, and silently feared that the moonlight alone wouldn’t be enough to guide them. For now, at least, it would have to be.
Look for me again.