ok i wanted to do something for croma week rlly bad and since i'm not that confident in my art skills i wrote a fanfic :) its only about 2k words, i've never really done this before tho so i hope it turned out ok lol (ignore that it’s a day late)
“Did Lord Death really need to rent a venue this far away?”
“Maka, keep your fucking eyes on the road!”
“I wouldn’t need to keep looking back and forth if you read off the directions like you were supposed to!”
Soul grumbled something about the ‘straightforward’ instructions under his breath in reply. When Maka glanced at him, his dirty sneakers that he had insisted on wearing were smudging the dashboard and he was very clearly watching a Minecraft parkour video. Despite the lack of space in the back, she was regretting giving him shotgun privileges. She could have made room somewhere. Overlooking the trunk was too generous a move.
In the rearview mirror she checked on her passengers. Kid sat in the middle seat – the ‘bitch seat’, as Patti refused to stop calling it. Liz and Patti sat on either side in matching white dresses. Their outfits had been painstakingly planned out by Kid weeks in advance. On each side of his chest he wore a perfectly positioned white boutonniere.
“Kid,” Maka asked into the mirror, “why is your dad going to all this trouble? Couldn’t we just do this on school grounds?”
“He mentioned something-or-other about wanting to do ‘something normal’ for the student body. I believe all of this is wildly unnecessary, but… you know Dad.”
“Maka, that’s – that’s the turn. You’re missing it. Get the – no, the sign with the balloons on it. Maka!”
“I got it! Stop yelling in my damn ear, Soul!”
The venue that Lord Death had chosen was rectangular and beige, with large cardboard letters that spelled ‘PROM’ adorning the entrance. They weren’t lit up and so they loomed in the darkness above the students. Even though the little parking lot, too, was dim, it was clear that most of the spots were taken.
“Maka, your clock reads eight-o’-four,” chirped Kid from the back seat. “Prom started at eight o’ clock. Your clock is fast, right?”
Soul sighed. “Calm down, Kid. Ever heard of being fashionably late? It’s cool.”
“I don’t see what’s ‘cool’ about being late.”
“Frankly, I don’t need somebody who wears Air Jordans to a formal event lecturing me on what’s ‘cool’ and what isn’t.”
“Both of you please shut up.” Maka swerved into a free space at the end of the lot and the jolt, thankfully, quieted the bickering men.
Black Star and Tsubaki stood outside the entrance and greeted the group when they arrived, by leaping up and down and waving, respectively. Soul ran ahead and ended up in a headlock, his friend shaking him around like a dog with a toy. Maka chuckled under her breath. Black Star was Soul’s reason for showing up at the micro-event. Neither of them could miss such a cool, super-cool gathering of coolness.
As soon as Maka stepped inside, she was snow-blind. Had Lord Death decided on ‘the color white’ as the theme? White streamers, white paper lining the floor, and was that a cutout of a polar bear in the corner? It had to be. The disappointment that hit Maka did not seem to affect Soul and Black Star in the slightest. Both of them trotted off to explore. Tsubaki, now separate from her friend, crept up to Maka.
“Hi, Tsubaki! How did getting Black Star up here go?”
“He tried to wear one of those dollar sign necklaces. He… has a sense of style!”
Maka grimaced. “He sure has one.”
“Crona is already here, by the way. I saw them in the window while we were waiting for you.”
Maka would have been content staying at home studying the whole night. Crona was her reason to go. Prom was nothing more than an excuse to see the people you adore, after all, and the more time she spent with them, the more her affection grew.
“Really? Where are they?”
Tsubaki pointed to what appeared to be a snack bar. Crona stood crooked beside a wide punch bowl, observing the dancers on the floor. Tsubaki giggled and threw Maka back to the present. She had been staring.
“Tsubaki, look at them. Look at their bowtie. They’re so cute, I’m… my hands are so sweaty. Ew.” She laughed to herself.
“They really do look nice. You go talk to them. I’m going to say hello to Liz and Patti.”
“Good luck! You’ll do just fine.”
Crona spotted Maka after she was already speeding toward them. They jolted and offered an awkward wave hello.
“Crona! Hi! Is it okay if I give you a hug?”
Maka threw her arms around them in a bear hug. She wasn’t sure if the lavender smell on them was the work of false fragrance or a real plant in their pocket, but she loved it all the same. Their jacket itself was soft. Very soft. She buried her forehead into their shoulder.
“It’s so good to see you!”
“It’s good to see you, too. I, uh… missed you.”
“God, you see her all the time. You saw her two days ago, dumbass.”
Maka forced a smile. “Hi, Ragnarok.”
“Ignore him,” Crona whispered. “Do you like the decorations? It was mostly Marie and me setting them up.”
“They’re nice. I’m, uh… not sure I understand the theme.”
Crona lit up and snatched a solo cup from the table beside them. They filled it with the punch and handed it to Maka.
“Try it. It’ll make sense, I promise.”
Crona pointed to the cutout of the polar bear. Up close, Maka could see that someone had draped a scarf around its shoulders.
“Oh my God, is the prom coca-cola bear themed?”
They nodded vigorously. “Marie came up with it after Lord Death bought nothing but white decorations.”
“That’s adorable! I… don’t think anybody’s going to get it, though.”
“Yeah. That’s why I’m over here, so I can explain it to anyone who doesn’t know.”
Maka squinted. “Your plan is to be over here, pouring soda for everyone the whole time?”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather tag along with me instead?”
Maka saw Crona begin to blush. The abundance of black blood let off a gray color instead of the typical red. Crona looked back and forth; the confidence that they once held had evaporated into the stuffy room.
“Are you sure that I wouldn’t bother you, or anything?”
“Of course you wouldn’t bother me. Actually, I’d really like to spend time with you.”
Crona agreed, thankfully, because Maka’s face burnt and she was not entirely sure what she would say if they had any other doubts. Together they said hello to the chaperones – Marie, Sid, Stein, and Naigus, each of them commenting on the secret theme and Crona’s involvement – and bounced between Tsubaki’s group and the snack bar. Despite the attractions and the people to spend time with, Maka’s attention remained consistently fixed upon Crona.
They had been engaged in this routine for an hour until the dj’s cacophonous dance music was abruptly replaced by some 80s love ballad that Maka couldn’t remember the name of. From the snack bar, they watched groups break off into pairs or cluster at the back of the room.
“The music’s quieter now,” noted Crona.
“Yeah. It’s so that everyone who brought a date can, well… have their date. It’s the whole reason couples come here, anyway.”
She took a deep breath and wiped her palms onto her dress. “Do you want to dance with me, Crona?”
Crona froze, their mouth open, a small pretzel still in their hand. “Are you- are you sure that you want to? With me? I - I’ve never really done this before and I don’t want to ruin–”
“I’m sure. I’ve kind of been hoping that I’d get to dance with you since I got here.”
Crona’s whole face bore smudges of gray, like charcoal. They scratched the back of their neck and, with great care, held out their hand for Maka. She took it.
“Awh, your hands are sweaty, too!”
“No, it’s okay! I don’t mind, I promise.”
After a few failed attempts at a traditional dance, the pair decided that the best course of action would be to follow the precedent set by the other couples and rock back and forth holding each other. Maka could hear Crona’s heartbeat even over the music. Every once in a while they asked for some form of confirmation – was Maka comfortable, was she still okay with it, and so on – and each time, she reassured them.
“I’ve been having a really good time with you,” she whispered during the song’s closing solo.
“Yeah. This is really nice… thank you for dancing with me, Maka.”
“Mhm! Like I said, I really wanted to.”
Crona just smiled and pulled Maka closer. What was once a loud growl of dozens of people talking throughout the room had died down to a distant humming. She could focus on them, their texture, their smell, everything. Nobody else existed.
The song changed from classic rock back to modern pop and the roar started up again. Maka looked around at the groups of friends reclaiming the dance floor, and among them, she spotted Black Star and Soul dancing – perhaps they thought that they were on fire and they were flailing in fear. That would explain quite a bit.
“These idiots,” she scoffed.
“Hey, Casanova,” Ragnarok sneered, “Why don’t you take your lady friend upstairs?”
“Oh, no, they said not to go up there.”
“Come on, I’m trying to do you a favor here!”
“Ragnarok, shut the fuck up.” Maka looked from the vile little ghoulie back to Crona. “What’s upstairs?”
“Oh, it’s just the roof. Marie said not to let anyone up there because someone could fall.”
She side-eyed Black Star, who was doing some sort of dance that involved clenching his hands into fists and wiggling his arms very very fast. “Did she name any names?”
Crona seemed to see, too. They winced. “I guess that rule was probably for him. It’s so loud in here… we can go up there, if you want. So we can hear each other better. I don’t think that would be against the rules.”
They snuck through the stairwell door after Crona revealed its location – obscured behind one of the bear cutouts. Outside, nothing could be heard of the party except for a muffled beat. Nothing could be felt except for a cool night breeze. Against the horizon, turbines whirred valiantly in the darkness. Both of them sat down side by side in the middle of the roof.
“This is much better,” sighed Maka.
“Just happy. This past…well, everything has been really nice. Thanks for hanging out with me, Maka.”
“Of course. You don’t have to keep thanking me.” She grinned and nudged their shoulder.
“Sorry. Habit. I just don’t know how to say it. Being with you at the DWMA has been… I’ve been happy. Especially because of you. You’re amazing. I really… I really like you.”
“I really like you, too. You’re one of the bravest people I know.” She was smiling. Her face hurt from it. “Hey. Crona. Look at me, okay?”
Maka leaned in. She waited, in case Crona wanted to pull away, and when they only leaned closer she held their jawline and kissed them. A second later it was over, and she was staring into their eyes again. Those eyes sparkled like lightning in the desert.
“Hi.” They said after a sizeable trail of stammering.
For a time – there was no way to be certain whether it was minutes or hours – Maka leaned against their shoulder and the two of them spoke in whispers while they looked at the stars. The kiss seemed to give Crona a second wind of courage and they had their free arm caressing Maka’s.
“The others and I are going to go to my place after this and watch a movie,” she said. “I’d really like it if you came.”
“Are you sure they wouldn’t mind?”
“Are you kidding? They all like you. Even Kid.”
“Mm.” They smiled. “I’ll come with you, then.”
A coyote cried out somewhere in the distance.
“All of this really has been great. Even the shitty music and the coke bear theme.”
“Your lips tasted like coke when you kissed me.”
Maka laughed. “Well, there’s worse things, I guess.”
It was almost midnight when Soul and Black Star lost their energy at the dance. They were some of the last to leave apart from the chaperones themselves. What this meant was a lot of barefoot waiting in the car for Maka, Crona, Kid, Liz, and Patty.
“Okay, we’ve gotten through… fourteen songs waiting,” sighed Liz. “Any requests for the fifteenth?”
“I don’t think I know any more songs,” said Crona.
“Really? That’s tragic. Liz, play something classic,” Kid ordered.
“Classic or classical? I can never tell with you.”
“Wait, hold on!” Maka gripped the steering wheel. “Here he comes!”
Soul walked across the parking lot, his tie undone and his shoelaces spilling over the pavement. He was a mess. He staggered to the shotgun door and opened it, only noticing too late how it was occupied.
“What? Crona? Huh. Would you mind moving over?”
“Sorry, Soul. You snooze, you lose.” Maka smiled. “You’ll just have to sit somewhere else.”
“Wh–? There’s no more seats. Where am I going to sit?”
“Well, there’s always the trunk.”
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