Work Text:
03. Doubt
- October 10, 2009 -
"Ragnarok?"
"What?!"
"…What if she cut it off somehow?"
"What?!"
Crona stands under the stream of hot water in the shower, hands splayed between his thighs. Ragnarok is plopped lazily atop Crona's half-shampooed head and Crona's been staring down at himself for several minutes in a dysmorphic haze. His unsure hands are testing the wares of a dark place on his body that he usually hates to look at or touch, or even acknowledge is there. Whenever he tries to figure it out, he gets stuck like this, just staring at it and knowing that it isn't right.
The little human-weapon has seen what girls are supposed to look like...he's studied anatomy books and drawn diagrams of their organs and perfect little boxes…but his doesn't look like the one from the books so much, or like what boys have at all, or like anything...it looks like a tangled mess of gathered, wrinkly skin and it's ugly, he really doesn't like the way it looks and feels...
"I said," mutters Crona, swallowing and feeling pain constrict his chest, "what if she—"
"I know what you said, just hurry up and get outta here already!" Ragnarok screeches. "I'm melting, and your shampoo smells like dog crap!"
"It doesn't smell like dog crap, it smells like ginger," Crona says matter-of-factly. "Maka says she likes the way ginger smells, it's refreshing and nice."
He maneuvers a finger between his folds; the skin is sliced up evenly and it caves in and to him it like a handcrafted wound that she must've made just for him, an elaborate, eerie scar.
What if she took it away from me here?
He's afraid. His hands tremble and he can't put his fingers any further up inside the lips; it already feels weird placing pressure on it shallowly and maybe it feels so awfully sensitive because it's still raw, because it never healed from the experiments she must've done to it…
But why would she do that to me?
His stomach lurches and his eyes start to sting from the shampoo and water mixture streaming down his face. Tearing up, Crona groans in discomfort, rubbing his hands over his lids and trying to black out the images of what he just saw.
I can't deal with it. If I don't look anymore, I can pretend that it doesn't exist.
(+)
"Just friends, huh?"
Liz, Tsubaki, and Black Star are talking loudly in class about an older boy who's interested in Tsubaki. Maka and Soul are sitting in front of them, and Maka thinks that the three of them should really get to work, they do have a dissection in a half hour and none of them have even started their lab pre-write.
Seems like the gossip of budding romance trumps grades today. Maka's trying to block out their voices as well as the boisterous laughs that keep coming from Soul, who's sitting beside her with his legs kicked up into her personal space. He's half listening to their friends and half reading a junky comic book that Black Star's letting him borrow, also not working on his pre-lab.
"Yes, just friends!" Tsubaki is insisting to Liz, though she's rapidly getting pinker in the face and is doing a terrible job at hiding her smile.
"You're not telling me something!" complains Liz. "You went on a date with him, didn't you?!"
"Yeah, you're not telling me something either!" Black Star barks protectively. Honestly, Maka groans internally, she doesn't know why he cares so much about who Tsubaki dates, since one minute he's into her and the next he's into three different girls.
"I-it wasn't a date," Tsubaki attempts, waving her hands carelessly, "we were just studying!"
"…Your scarf's pulled up higher today," Liz notes, squinting. She reaches over and tugs it aside, revealing a litter of bruise-like marks and Tsubaki blushes furiously and yelps.
"See! I knew it!" cries Liz.
"W-we don't want anyone to know yet, please don't say anything—"
"What's so great about that guy anyway, huh?" contests Black Star. "I bet I could take him any day! If he can't defeat me in a battle then there's no way he's worthy of even touching you—"
"Black Star, p-please keep it down—"
"So who started it?" Liz prods. She lowers her voice to a mischievous tone. "Was it you? Was it him? Who went first?"
"It was him," Tsubaki sighs, letting herself smile completely. "He's so romantic, he always makes the first move…"
"Like a real man should," swoons Liz in agreement.
"If he ever fucks with you, I'll kill him," disagrees Black Star.
Maka sighs, and then she can feel that Soul's eyes are on her. When she glances over at her best friend, he smiles, rolls his eyes, points a thumb back at their friends and then does a thumbs-down. She smiles too, and they give each other a knowing, somewhat-relieved look about the topic at hand.
They've both always felt a little out of place during dating conversations. And Maka more so than Soul, or at least, that's the way she feels. She and her weapon partner have talked about it before: how it seems like their friends just date to date, and how little appeal the idea of hooking up with someone else has always had to both of them. Maka and Soul came to the conclusion that no matter how many dating rumors spread about the two of them, (and they do, because "look at the way they bicker" everyone says), they know that their friendship is just closer and different than other people's. At least, so far…sometimes Maka gets nervous that romance'll be inevitable, because well, look at her Mama and Papa. Pressure aside though, she doesn't think about Soul in that way and hasn't been able to force herself to either. Soul is everything like her best friend; he pushes her to be strong, will always call her out and keep her in check, and he's known her better than anyone since they were twelve; and keeping things just the way they are feels fine to her, when she really thinks about it.
Usually Maka just can't understand the hype of dating and sex, especially sex...gratefully Soul seems to be the only one who sorta understands that. Relationships between men and women are so much hassle, she thinks, not to mention they can be pretty scary, there's always such nasty jealousy and tension, just look what happened to her parents. She'd much rather read and just enjoy her friendships, and plus...it's not like she's never caught the eye of anyone anyway.
She adjusts herself on the bench, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. It's no secret she's underdeveloped physically, and as she finishes her up her lab she wonders, not for the first time, if maybe she just never actually started puberty, and maybe that's why anything resembling a sex drive seems so absent in her. Maybe she's just a late bloomer or something... (At fourteen? she grumbles internally, No way, there's just something wrong with me…)
But it's not like Maka has ever really wanted any boys to touch her. She feels a sinking feeling settling in her gut listening to the little whispered bits of Tsubaki and Liz's conversation coming from behind her, about where hands went and what he felt like. Her ears start to burn whenever they talk about boys because she feels like she should be imagining what that's like, too. Why can't she ever come up with any of those things on her own like they can?
Frowning and pouting, Maka closes her eyes at her desk, and tries to imagine: she pictures herself with some random, faceless guy, who's tall and strapping and sweaty and the picture of masculinity, Clay or Akane or the other kinds of almost-men who Tsubaki and Liz are into…she tries to imagine either of them with his hands around her waist, him holding her as they kissed, and maybe if he had a little bit of stubble coming in….
She opens her eyes again, plants her chin in her palms disappointedly. It never works, it never…excites her. The reason that she's never even been kissed before is because she knows, with no outside influence, that she doesn't inherently want that kind of boy to be all over her. The only kind of romance she can ever get into are the kinds she reads in fiction, but probably only because they're between characters she's invested in. It's never about the kissing or sex in books, it's about the feelings of lightness and emotion and love that the female protagonist so eloquently describes in the first person, using her words…she can see the fictional characters, imagine exactly what it's like. Maka doesn't have to imagine some obscure figures being intimate together when she's reading, the way she tries to force herself to since he can never picture herself with any specific man.
And the dreamy feelings in books are things that Maka's never felt with Soul (for more than a few seconds) or any of the boys she's ever known. At least, not the boys who are the picture of masculinity, not the boys with muscles and facial hair and that ever-present bitter smell...
But, there is one boy in her life at the moment who isn't very much like that at all.
She pictures the way Crona looks in that dress of his, the way that Crona always looks so soft and smells so sweet and feminine, and feels her face starting to warm…
She's suddenly interrupted by Black Star brashly jumping down from his row to sit between she and Soul on their bench, wrapping his arm around Soul's shoulders and nudging Maka rudely with his elbow to scoot her over.
"Soul and I needa have guy talk for a sec," he tells Maka. "Why don't you go up there and fawn over whatever lameass they're stuck on this week?"
"I think I'll study," Maka retorts, elbowing him in the side to get her personal space back. He swats her arm away half-heartedly and then turns to Soul launches into one of his "Why don't girls like guys who are nice to them!?" rants, at which Soul laughs and says "You're thinking way too much about this, dude…"
(+)
"Hey! You're wearing one of the shirts we picked out~"
Maka stands at the door of Crona's room that afternoon and greets him cheerfully.
He smiles at her in the doorway, his stomach filling up with butterflies the way it always does. He's happy that he's finally with her again after a long day at school, and after being alone for so long...he really doesn't do well when he's alone.
Crona tugs at the sleeves of the shirt she just complimented and feels his heart kick into a faster beat.
"Yeah," he says, soft, but just as cheerful. He stands aside politely, gesturing to the bed as his face heats up some more. "Come in~"
He lets her inside and soon they're holding hands on his bed, and Maka is asking him about his day.
"I um, I think I'm getting the hang of World History now," Crona is saying about his classes, "it's a lot of things to remember but, Nygus has been helping me with my homework and my memory, and I think it's very interesting...there are a lot of things that I never knew about the world."
"I'm glad." Maka squeezes his hands, smiles genuinely. "Y'know, I can't imagine having to cram several years of schooling that I missed into the span of a couple months…" she presses one of her fingers to his soft forehead, and the way he closes his eyes and gleams at her touch makes her feel warm all over. "You're so smart, Crona."
He opens his eyes, dark blush coloring his skin, smile tugging at his mouth's corners.
"I am?"
And Maka loves the way that her new best friend looks when he's happy. She likes that she knows how and when to conjure that happiness, too, by cradling his face or telling him something she likes about him...whenever she wants Crona to smile, she knows exactly what to say, and without fail he seems to light up at all of her nice words. Sometimes she forgets that she's his first friend, but in moments like this she remembers that Crona is so receptive to her advances because he's never had anyone be sweet to him before. All the niceness was something he had to get used to at first, but now he seems so open to it…
Maka's fingers toy with one of the soft little tuffs of his bangs, and he keeps his eyes closed, taking a deep breath. Crona likes it when she touches his hair, she's realized, and he reminds her of a cat in that way, always liking being pet.
She glances down at his waist in the shirt he's wearing, too; he still doesn't wear very many clothes that show his skin, so it's not often that she gets to see his figure. He's started to put on a little healthy weight, and while the skin that she can see has scars, the fabric fits him just right and wraps around his abdomen, so flattering.
"I really like this shirt on you," she hears herself saying, and now she's starting to get slightly uncomfortable with how warm she's feeling,
"Thanks." Crona's hands slip from hers to toy with the fabric, and he ducks his head to stare at himself. "I-I like it too, I think." He can't believe that Maka notices things as trivial as what he wears each day.
Maka looks at how skinny Crona is, and then looks at herself; they really aren't all the different, completely flat-chested with very few curves...she frowns a little, wishing that she looked like Tsubaki or Liz, wishing she could look more like a girl...
Maybe Crona would think about her in that way if she did, and maybe they wouldn't be only friends.
"I could wear something like that," she starts saying, "It's not like I have boobs…" she laughs depreciatively and scratches the back of her head nervously, but inside, she's not laughing. "Everyone says that I basically have a guy's chest, or at least boys always tell me that..."
Crona glances up at her chest beneath her sweater as she rambles on; he can see the curves there, slight though they are, and it makes him feel funny between his legs…
"I don't think so, Maka. I think..." Crona looks her in the eyes, with his own eyes heavy-lidded. "I don't understand why anyone wouldn't want to be close to you."
She's doubted if it would ever kick in. If her flighty crush feelings would ever last longer than a couple of minutes in her mind. But Crona…this is the way that that must feel.
She's found someone to place her affections on, that must be what this is. She stares at him, thinks about how physically attractive she finds his subtle cuteness. He is what some would call feminine, he carries himself shyly and speaks softly, closes his thin legs when he sits and has such long, nice eyelashes; but he also has that boyish lilt to his voice, and there's his sharp jawline and strong hands. She's attracted to the ambiguity of Crona, as well as the little bit of edge…
It's not what anyone else would find attractive, not what Liz or Tsubaki would…but it's there. It excites her. But that makes her nervous, too. He doesn't look the way everyone else looks, he doesn't fit into categories like others do, like even she does; what if this isn't normal?
"Have you ever…" Crona glances over at the window, nervous. "...been with anyone before, Maka?"
"No." Crona notices that Maka is blushing and fidgeting a little, and it makes him feel lightheaded...is she nervous too? He wonders. Why would she be nervous around me? "Actually, I've never even had my first real kiss before," Maka says. "Why?"
Crona thinks about the shower, and the doubt between his legs. He's also been reading some of the books she's suggested which have a few intimate scenes in them, all romances between females and males in which the males looked one way, and the females another. And Maka looks like they do, she looks right…it's just him…he's not strong or big like any of them...and then there's the empty space on his body where there should be something whole.
"Oh, it's just…me neither," Crona mumbles. "And um, I was around witches all the time growing up but, never any real girls…Real girls have always scared me."
Maka smiles a little, but not in a way that's making fun of him. "Why would girls scare you?"
"Well, I was always confused whenever I was around them because sometimes I didn't want to hurt them, and I was always told I was supposed to hurt everyone. It was never that way with boys, I was always able to do it to them, but I'm not sure why I couldn't with girls."
He ducks his head again, blushing harder.
"Have you ever um, liked anyone who wasn't a boy?" he asks earnestly.
Maka has to think about that for a moment. She does get nervous around Tsubaki and Liz every once in a while, but only when they're talking about other boys and she's feeling left out. She doesn't ever stare at their boobs or anything, unless she's jealously imagining what the womanly weight of them would feel like on her own body.
"No, not really," she says. "I mean, I think Tsubaki and Liz are really pretty, but they're just my friends. Other than that, I don't think I've ever really thought that way before."
I do like boys, or well, the idea of them, just…not boy boys… she clarifies in her head, annoyed at how complicated this is becoming.
And Crona's afraid to tell her about the missing part of him. But he should tell her, right? He should pre-warn her…not that he thinks she's going to see it, being naked in front of her is way too much for him to deal with…but as a friend, she should know, right? Maybe she'd start treating him the way she was supposed to, (as if this isn't the way she's supposed to), or maybe he could show her sometime and she could help him figure out why his boy-body is different...or maybe, she could tell him that he really is a girl, like Ragnarok has always been trying to tell him.
But that would be so embarrassing…he should be able to figure this out on his own, the way that other kids do.
He shouldn't burden her with his freakiness.
Maka smiles, sensing that Crona's getting lost in thought.
"Haveyou ever liked anyone who wasn't a girl before?" she asks.
Crona shakes his head. He stares at Maka's petite figure across from him and swallows down the guilt-filled lump in his throat, swallows down his feelings about his definite, recognizable need to reach out and touch to this real girl.
"No," he says, folding his arms in, glancing towards the window in shame. "...I've only ever liked girls."
As Maka smiles at him comfortingly, his mind supplies for him,
I've only ever liked you.