Where the battle was heated and the heart at loss,
The breathe heavy as lead, chocking by its own coughs,
He lay there staring helplessly at his own reflection,
His reflection that paled on the moon's wall.
His look is that of a filthy-blooded murderer,
A jealous ran-away filled with ominous fear.
He had shattered an innocent flower's fragrance,
And now it had come for revenge; soaked in bloody sin.
Time is unjust to everyone and so fair is to the law.
The clothing he wears now is his armor, his shielding cloak.
It keeps him from the world's cold but also from it's warmth.
Because he was afraid.
The formal suit, jet black in painting, drops from head to toe,
And White elegant gloves covers his hands, from reaching trust.
He grovels on the ground with the tragic burden on top,
He curses the crimson skies, those pitiless space that break apart.
He cries for a saving, but the very chill drowns his shouts.
Knowledge, comes to him, in the cruelest form: the present.
Convinces him that no one will come,
That everyone is occupied with their own.
He shut his eyes to dream no more.
He can't bear to look away and searches once again.
He tells himself that he won't lose, he won't give in to fate.
And there she came, not in front nor back from him,
But next to him, arm to arm; knee, to knee.
She holds his hand, the untouchable barrier,
And places it on her face; the warmth seeps in.
He yanks her towards his chest, wordless yet with meaning,
He hugs her tight and realizes that his soul had been waiting.
There is no declaration of love, no proclamation of gratitude,
Just a single tear from a hurt crimson eye and,
Only her touch.
"Her touch- Epilogue: Let them be"
"Soul… This place is …."
He tucked his head, and hid his hands on his pockets searching in vain for a warmth to calm him. He clicked his tongue as a way to reproach himself for forgetting his gloves in the house. Slowly, he breathed in and sighed, lifting his face towards the scenery that unfolded in front of his glassy eyes. He still felt faint about everything that had happened. It was December, the white month, and two months had passed quietly since then. They had finally gotten the chance to come to the place.
"Yeah, this is where everything started…"
Seeing that he needed not of her words, Maka kept quiet. She merely watched how her partner's mind wandered off to the place he had not been in since the 'death' of his first meister. She noticed by herself too that the place they were in was deserted. What once had been a place of dwelling, a place of life, was now a pile of rubble and broken phone lines. The sky extended itself more vastly, and the wind passed with ease, without meeting any brick wall; it was cold. And even so, there was no merciful snow to hide the miserable view.
"Oi, let's go…" he huffed, letting the faintly warm breeze from his breath turn into small clouds at the touch of the cold air of the still grey winter morning.
Maka nodded silently and carefully followed the steps of her partner, cuddling herself in her coat to keep the chilly air from her body. The rests of concrete made her feet wobble as she walked, but she made no complains and kept rushing forward; Soul was ahead. She stopped when he took no more steps. They had reached an oddly empty space and it seemed oddly nostalgic; as if she had been there before. The area they stood on now didn't have a single piece of stone on it, and the center lay cleanly before their eyes as if it were the middle point of some kind of explosion. Maka looked around and noticed that while the more farther the center stretched itself, it became darker. A strand of wind brought before her emerald eyes what it seemed to be a small black feather, which she soon realized to be ash.
This was the spot where he had broken Halle's soul.
"It's here." Soul said crouching, and pushing back at the same time the muffler that choked his neck slightly. He extended his hand towards his meister. "Give it."
Maka handed down the rose.
As soon as he received the flower, he gently let it rest on the floor and began to dig the soil. He felt his hands going numb and from the side, Maka saw how it reddened because of the freezing air; never the less, he did not stop the digging. The scrapping sounds faded along the silence and finally he planted it gently on the hole. Dawn started its job of lighting the sky and it welcomed warmly the new dweller of the place. Maka, who had been all the time waiting patiently, stepped up to the still-not-blooming rose bud and watered it gently with a small bottle that she had carried in her pocket. The sun smiled.
"….A …repented soul…. "
It was a one of a million kind of soul. Sinful souls were hard to be saved, however, this one had been able to do so by itself.
Soul nodded at the description and Maka gazed at the white rosebud.
She recalled reading once that a white rose meant honor and reverence towards parting with a loved one…. Just as much as it meant pure love.
She clenched her heart. She couldn't bring herself to mutter sorry, it sounded mocking after all the twins had been through; she didn't have the right. And she did not found it all that appropriate to say thank you. Yes, Halle had saved her life but what she had done had been entirely for Soul, and Genn had been able to save his sister's soul with his unwavering loyalty; it had been his own strength. After pondering, she finally decided on what to do and bent and kissed the flower.
"Oi! What did you that for?" Soul groaned with a scowl from below.
"It's a sign of my respect…" Maka answered blinking. Actions contained more words than a sentence, after all.
"You don't have be jealous, my first kiss was with you…" she whispered with a small pout, but the whooshing of the wind carried away her words.
"What? I didn't hear you.." Soul asked looking at her, grumpily.
Maka only smiled mysteriously, receiving a very puzzled look from her partner.
"Nothing… Shall we head home now?" She extended her hand once more. Soul stared at it intently as his mind recalled how many times he had seen this helping hand had sought for him. He reached for it and this time, clasped it firmly and stood up. The moment he saw the sky nearer, he promised himself that the next time, he would be the one who would reach out for her. He would become stronger for her.
They started to walk down the path they had come from, when Soul paused unnoticed by Maka who walked a few steps ahead of him, and turned around for the last time towards the direction of the flower. He gave her a small bow and walked away towards the new day.
The white rose bloomed.
The past was behind.
He trotted to catch up with his meister and when he was next to her, he pulled one of her pigtails down, earning an angry yelp.
"Ouch! Why did yo-"
Soul grabbed his meister's hand preventing the expert chopping motion before it fell, and silenced her with a light kiss.
"If he was your first kiss, then I'm your last." He mumbled and tucked her hand into his pocket together with his, startling her for a second but earning another smile of hers the next. He felt glad that he had forgotten his gloves in his home. The warmth of her touch felt gentle to his own fingers. His embarrassed eyes hid themselves from hers, but the boy new that she understood everything.
Suddenly a smirk spread across his face. He had just had the thought that his love was, indeed, like holding her hand; he just never wanted to let go.
The word resounds in my mind, literally. Ah… I feel small tears cornering my eyes. I'm going to miss writing this sequel. Well, anyways, no time for crying. I have to thank you all for feeding me with reviews, sugar, two-feet cookies and bubble gums. You guys are awesome.
And though it is the end, I'm going to write another story that'll have a similar style. The plot will be totally different though. And will include all the other characters. Look forward to it, 'cause I'll definitely will. The name of the new fic will be: "Rest in Peace". I hope you'll like it.
Salute to all my faithful companions (whom I'll ask to review for the last time this last chapter T.T)!