The drowsy sun hung lazily in the sky, heaving slow breaths as it gave off morning's first light. Emerald eyes snapped awake in response to this sunrise, as though waiting for the first chance to pop open the next day. Warmth washed over the pink sheets she was laying underneath and drenched her face with sunlight. Her goldenrod hair lay spilled across her pillow, and her hands, tucked snugly under her cheek. The meister then made an attempt to climb out of bed, swinging her legs so that her feet touched the cold tiled floor. After maneuvering in such a fast and sudden manner, she winced, realizing that she was still plenty sore from her toll-taking victory just yesterday. Despite the previous pain, she made to a stand and walked over to her bedroom door, locking it as she began to change from her yellow and green sleepwear to her usual striped tie, sweater-vest, and red and black plaid skirt, and fix her hair into her two traditional ponytails.
Once fully dressed, the scythe-meister quietly exited her room, listening carefully for her weapon's snoring across the kitchen. Satisfied with her positive knowledge of him still being asleep, but not thinking to leave a note for her partner as to where she had gone, she made for made for the apartment's front door, only to be stopped by a small meow of a yawn. The meister, hand lowering from the doorknob, turned and looked down to find the violet cat sitting up and returning the gaze with wondering eyes.
“Where ya going, Maka?” The feline blinked at her, curious as to how the top-student could be up so early in the morning after such a rough day.
“Oh, I was just going to go see Crona. You know, see if he's doing alright.” Maka replied with a slightly chagrined smile, rubbing the back of her head.
“You mean the cute demon boy with the pink hair?” she purred, eyes closing with a catty grin. “He'll sure be happy to see you.” The meister's housemate then let out another yawn and stretched as she turned to go back to the weapon's room. “I'll be sure to tell Soul where you went once he wakes up.” Blair looked over her shoulder and winked with a gold eye. “You know, since you and demon-boy will probably be awhile...” Maka could only imagine the implications the cat meant, as she put a peculiar type of emphasis on the words be awhile.
As she was finally able to leave the apartment and set out for the Academy, the scythe-meister sighed a mixture of relief and exasperation. She had been worrying about the swordsman, for nearly no reason in particular. She knew he had had surgery to repair the injury he received at the battle with the witch Medusa, but she wasn't really concerned about that. His black blood was functioning properly now, and if he happened to accidentally reopen the wound, Ragnarok would be able to simply harden the blood. Something was distantly disturbing her thoughts, as if it wasn't necessarily worry for him, but rather worry that she had forgotten to tell him something...
Maka slapped her hand to her forehead. Of course.
Medusa. Maka had killed Crona's mother. He doesn't know yet...
She quickly shook head her as if to dismiss the thought. She'd tell him when he asked-- if he asked. Though right now, she was just going to visit him to see that he's alright... to see that he's alive.
Gods, she was just glad to know that he was alive...
Distant sunlight dwindled past the lone arched window of the dungeon, dimly illuminating the enclosure. It traveled farther, down onto the pink head of the curled up figure with its head in its knees, a pillow in between. Crona lifted his head toward the source and blinked, rubbing the crusty salt and sleep out of his eyes.
Salt... Why would he have been crying last night? What had happened before he fell asleep? He looked down to the dusty substance on his knuckles. The memory of his nightmare flooded into the forefront of his mind almost painfully. The visuals it gave him was enough to push a lump into his throat. The swordsman hastily shoved the thought out of his mind, forcing himself to remember that Maka was alive, and that Asura was dead, and that nothing was wrong. It was just a dream, nothing more. Dreams can't hurt you...
Two prominent knocks from outside his iron room door echoed into his room, interrupting the mental reassurance he was trying to give himself.
“I'm coming in, Crona!” Simply the sound of Maka's voice was enough to entirely diminish any previous negative thoughts he might have had. Maka's voice meant Maka was nearby, and if Maka was nearby, then absolutely nothing was ever amiss. Needless to say, he knew that she always reassured him the most.
The door swung open, revealing the blonde scythe-meister behind it; Crona brightened and stood up from his bed at this, staring into her smiling emerald-green eyes. Her eyes closed with a wide grin as she, without warning, literally ran into the swordsman, meeting him with breath-taking embrace. Slightly but pleasantly surprised, Crona carefully put his arms around her as well, returning the hug. As Maka released, her hands trailed down to Crona's, gripping his and entwining their fingers.
Still standing incredibly close, she spoke. “So, are you feeling alright?” Her strong eyes bored into the swordsman's scared stormy ones.
It was difficult to nod when she was so close, holding his hands like it was nothing more than a friendly gesture. He did like holding her hands, though, it just made him nervous; it felt like he was breaking some sort of unspoken rule by doing so. Crona finally managed to answer with a nod, almost wondering why she was asking.
“Good!” She said, letting go of his hands and lacing her own together behind her back. “Because I might have to plan a party celebrating that the kishin's dead. And I'm not going to let you stay home from it!” She wagged a finger at him.
He tentatively gave a slight smile. “O- Okay.”