Full Summary: Maka Albarn is a witch. Like the few who are able to use magic today, she follows a sacred tradition carried out for hundreds of years: when a young witch reaches the age of 13, she sets out to live in a town where no other witches reside to complete one year of independent training. On the day of her 13th birthday, Maka is packed and ready to go. She, with her trusty companion cat Blair, flies off for a year away from home in the big city.
Very loosely based off of "Kiki's Delivery Service." Will explore themes of friendship, abuse, near-death experiences, healing, and (of course) magic. Featuring gender neutral Crona, Stein and Marie expecting a little one, Wes living in the woods composing music, pretty much all the major characters making at least one small appearance, and some awful Google-Translated Swedish and random Old English words thrown in the mix too.

Warnings: mentions of abuse and neglect, blood, major character injury, and hospitalization

Hello, and welcome to my submission for Resbang 2015. This monster of a fic was written over the course of a few months and I'm glad to say it's done and posted.

Special thanks to smolscythe who was my artist this year. I've posted links to her art and playlist on my profile, so please please please go look at the amazing work she's done! And listen to the playlist too!

1: In Which Maka Turns 13 and is Ready to Leave ASAP

The alarm clock went off at 7:30AM sharp. Less than three seconds later it was turned off by an already wide-awake girl. She sat up, smiling, and bolted out of her bed. Five quick steps took her to her window, which she flung open to let in the early morning sunlight.

"Blair!" She called out the window. "Are you ready to go? Blair?"

There was no response. Shrugging, the girl turned to look at her room instead.

It was a cozy place she'd called her own all her life. It was once an attic, as told by the sloping ceiling, but now it held a bed, wardrobe, desk, chair, and mirror. A circular rug covered a majority of the wooden floor. In the center of said rug was a packed bag.

The girl stared into the mirror. Her green eyes were bright, blonde hair tied into two buns on either side of her head. She was wearing a simple white nightdress. Her bare feet tapped the floor with impatient energy.

This is it, she thought. Today's the day.

Maka Albarn smiled at her own reflection. Today was the beginning of something new. Today she turned thirteen. Today she would leave home to find her own path as a witch.

A light thump behind her alerted Maka of her familiar's return. She turned around and smiled at the black cat stretching on her rug.

"Good morning, Blair!"

"Morning." The black cat finished stretching with a yawn. "You're up early."

"We're leaving first thing. I've been telling you that for the last week."

"Doesn't mean I want to," Blair muttered under her breath.

Maka frowned. "Traitor."

"Nya Maka, isn't it a bit early to set off?" the cat yawned again while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with her paw. "Bu-tan would be much more comfortable leaving in the afternoon instead of first thing in the morning. Plus, we haven't even had breakfast."

Maka's stomach chose the precise moment to growl. She sighed. "You're right. Besides, I have to make sure I packed everything."

Maka threw a robe over her pajamas before heading downstairs to breakfast, Blair following her. The smell of bacon came wafting from the kitchen to the stairs. So he was already up. Maka took a steeling breath before entering the room. If there was anyone who would be against her leaving, it would be her father. Best not tell him and leave when she had the opportunity.

"Good morning, Papa," she said coolly, taking her usual seat at the table.

Spirit Albarn glanced over his shoulder from the stove. He noticed it daughter and gave her a little smile.

"Happy birthday, Angel," he said. "Breakfast'll be ready in just a minute. There's coffee in the pot if you want any."

"I'm good, thanks."

"Then would you mind pouring me some? I don't want to burn this by accident."

She got up and pulled their mugs from the cupboard, then milk from the refrigerator. She poured herself milk and her father coffee: no cream and lots of sugar. Maka also took a bowl out for Blair's water as she hopped onto the table. The cat's breakfast, several chunks of leftover beef stew, was already there.

Spirit turned back to the stove, humming. At 31 years of age, he was the doting father of young Maka. He had his long red hair tied back in a bun and was wearing a very bright green-and-yellow checkered apron over his slacks and shirt.

The hideous thing had been a gag gift Maka made for her father when she was eleven. It was made from an old picnic cloth and very lopsided (sewing was definitely not her strong suit). Spirit hardly noticed. In fact, he wore it every single day without fail, much to Maka's embarrassment.

"Here you go," he said, setting down two plates and taking his seat across from her. "Eat up. I know you've got a big day ahead of you."

Maka noticed it was her favorite: eggs on bacon with rice. It was a weird combination, but one her mother used to make all the time. Spirit never made this. Ever. So why now? Granted, it was her birthday, but her papa usually just got a cake and called it a day. Besides, rice was hard to find in such a small country village.

Maka set down her fork and knife.

Spirit noticed and frowned. "Is something wrong? I thought this was your favorite."

"It is."

"Is it overcooked? Too much salt?"

She shook her head. Spirit glanced at his daughter a few times before setting down his own utensils and taking a sip of coffee instead.

"Today's a big day for you. It's not everyday that you come of age." When his daughter didn't reply, Spirit continued. "Maka, you're planning on leaving tonight, aren't you?"

He knew! Maka jolted. She hadn't expected her father to notice so quickly.

She cleared her throat and replied as steadily as she could, "It's tradition for a young witch to leave at the age of thirteen to spend a year on her own, training. You know this."

"I do. Still, most girls don't spring out right away. Even I know that."

Maka blushed and turned away slightly. That was true. But…

"I'm not upset, if that's what you're thinking," Spirit said firmly. "I actually anticipated it. Don't change your mind on this just because you couldn't surprise your Papa."

"I wasn't going to!" Maka insisted.

His expression softened. "Then let's make a compromise. How about you leave after dinner? I was hoping to have a little party tonight for you anyway. I already invited everyone to have dinner and cake. We could make it a birthday going-away celebration all in one."

"Okay," she agreed after a long pause. "But only because you invited everyone. It'd be rude to them if I wasn't there."

Spirit nodded in agreement. The conversation over, the two went back to eating in silence. Maka didn't miss the way her papa kept trying to meet her gaze. She ignored it to the best of her ability and continued to eat her breakfast as daintily as she could. It was delicious; she had to give him that much credit as she finished up.

"Leave the dishes," Spirit said. "I know you have to do some last-minute packing."

Maka stood up. "I'll wash them. It's the least I can do. Besides, I have until later tonight to finish packing."

The young girl took her things to the sink and started washing them. She even grabbed Blair's polished bowls. Spirit looked up at her from the table. Maka noticed and frowned.

"What's wrong, Papa?"

"Nothing. Just wondering when my little girl grew up so fast." Spirit stared into his mug of coffee with a sad smile. "You know you look just like your mother when she first came to this little town."

Maka looked at him in surprise. It was rare for her papa to talk about his late wife. Ever since she walked out when Maka was nine Spirit avoided her memory like the plague. Yet here he was, telling her story for the first time.

Spirit didn't reply for a while, choosing instead to drink some of his coffee. Maka took this opportunity to make a cup of tea. She sat down after putting the kettle on the stove. Her father started once she was seated.

"Your mama had just turned thirteen a few weeks before. Came gliding down after a week of flying from a large city on the other side of the country. Wanted to go somewhere where she could have a proper garden, she said. She lived in this house with old Ms. Johanssen while she trained in potion brewing. The lady never had kids and left the whole property to Kami when she passed away.

"I used to pass by every single day after school to catch a glimpse of what your Mama was doing here all by herself instead of playing with the other kids. Sometimes you could hear small explosions or see flashing lights from her workshop. And then one day I just happened to be there when she came out. She was absolutely frazzled, but she came right up to me and asked where she could find some rosemary. Rosemary of all things! I took her to my home to steal some from my mother's herb rack.

"We ended up talking, telling stories about what our lives were like. She told me how she learned to fly, what sorts of herbs could make healing remedies, old traditions like leaving home, and even how to read a bit of the Old Tongue. And when she went home I thought I'd never see her again. But she came back two years later and took to living with old Ms. Johanssen through her last few days."

The kettle whistled loudly, breaking the tension in the air. Maka hurried to shut off the stove. Spirit waited until his daughter had poured a cup of water and gotten a tea bag from the cupboard. Once she sat with her cream and sugar he continued.

"Your Mama almost left after the funeral. She said she couldn't stand being in the house with so many reminders of Ms. Johanssen. Did you know it was me who convinced her otherwise? I told her I couldn't live without seeing her again. I told her the last couple of years without her had been torture. And then she asked me, 'Spirit, is this your idea of a proposal because it's terrible,' and I just laughed and asked her, 'Is that what you want it to be?' We were married six months later and you came less than a year after that. Our little angel."

Spirit sighed and sipped some coffee. "She made me a much better man. I wasn't worthy of her affection. I think we both realized that after a while. Your Mama was a free spirit. I think this settled life didn't work for her, as much as I couldn't devote my love for her. Men like me are the worst, don't you think?"

"Yes," said Maka smoothly.

Spirit grimaced at her honestly, but he didn't say anything against it. "You're right. But the days I was happiest was when all three of us were here. Before…well. I wish we could go back to those days, when my two favorite girls were here. But Kami's gone now. And I know it's time for you to leave too. All your Papa wants is for you to become the strong woman I know you'll be."

Right then, for just a moment, Maka felt as though she understood her papa full heartedly. He gave her a sad smile, tears prickling at the edge of his eyes.

"Just…promise your Papa you won't start dating boys."

Then the moment was ruined. Maka scowled.

"You can't just say stuff like that! I can date if I want to, but I won't because men are the absolute worst!" Then as an afterthought, she muttered 'stupid Papa' under her breath.

Spirit laughed (most definitely reassured) and ruffled her hair. "Drink up. I have to go to town to run some errands, so you have the rest of the morning to yourself."

マカの宅急便

"We really are leaving today, aren't we?" Blair asked.

"Of course!" replied Maka jovially. "I've been preparing for soooo long! Why should we wait any longer? Even if we've been delayed until tonight by Papa."

Maka was dressed and ready. She had set everything she packed out in front of her. There were several folded tank tops and underwear, her carry-sized sewing kit, an extra pair of flats, an old candy tin filled with allowance money, her hairbrush and hair ribbons, two bars of soap, three towels of various sizes, a sleeping bag, pajamas, and a cotton bag with toiletries in it.

Maka was kneeling on the floor and pursing her lips while going over how to fit one of her mother's heavy tomes into her shoulder bag. Blair nudged against Maka's thigh.

"Is that all going to fit?"

"I'll make it! Since I know nothing about healing it might be better to bring this. Mama was very good at potion brewing, after all. I'm sure I'll be able to teach myself something."

"I think you should leave it. You can always start that part of your training when you get back. Besides, it'll be harder to fly with that heavy book keeping you off balance."

Maka stared down at her things pensively, hand on her chin. "Maybe I have a bigger bag somewhere…"

Blair sighed. There was no sense in talking to Maka. She knew this after all these years. The two had grown up together. It was part of being a witch: a familiar would live with her for the rest of her days. At least Maka was smart most of the time.

The witch vanished to the hallway. Blair waited patiently until she returned, carrying an old camping bag that had probably been collecting dust in one of the hall closets. Maka seemed even more please with herself so Blair decided not to comment.

"There!" said Maka proudly. "Now this'll fit everything and have room for food!"

"You'll have to go buy that yourself," Blair reminded.

"I know. Since we've got the rest of the day I can go to town. There're also a few things I left in the cupboards." Maka began to pack her things in the bigger bag, nodding in satisfaction. "Yep, definitely big enough! Do you think Papa'll mind if I take this?"

"You know he won't."

Maka continued to put things into her bag, humming a bit. "I'm so glad I'm almost ready. It's such a relief. I can't imagine how others who don't plan ahead do it!"

"Almost ready. Remember the most important part of the tradition?"

Maka froze. How had she forgotten that? That was the most important part!

"Do you even have a black dress?" Blair asked.

She stared down at the pink dress she was wearing over her favorite yellow button-up. Would there be enough time to dye it? Probably not.

"I'm sure I have some black clothing somewhere," she murmured, frowning.

Blair snorted. "As if. All you own is that coat. And Maka looks so much better in color!"

Maka was about to retort when there was a knock on her bedroom door.

"Knock knock! Can I come in?"

"Papa!" Maka made sure her undergarments were safely hidden from view before shouting, "Come in!"

Spirit was carrying their shopping bag in one hand, pushing the door open with another. He sat down beside Maka. Then he handed her the bag. She looked at him, confused.

"What's all this?"

"Just some things for the journey. Go on, check what's inside."

Maka pulled the items out one by one. There was a compass and a looking glass, both small enough to be hung around her neck. Several small trinkets were there too: a can opener, pocket knife, scissors, packs of matches, a flashlight and some batteries, and a map of the country. Then at the very bottom was something Maka was in dire need of.

"Is this a black dress?"

"I knew you didn't own one," Spirit said, "and it is tradition. I went to the seamstress in town and she still had your measurements from May Day when I got you that green dress. This one may be a bit big though, since she insisted on leaving a bit of room for you to grow into."

"I can always buy a new one once I get more money," added Maka. She lifted it out of the bag, then noticed a second one. "You got two for me?"

"It's always good to have a spare. It'll give you a chance to do laundry."

"You didn't have to."

"Nonsense! I can't have my daughter going on her service without proper attire. What kind of father would I be if my baby isn't able to carry herself with pride?" Spirit pointed at something folded under the dresses. "There's also a wool petticoat for the winter. I don't know where you're going, but I don't want you to get sick."

Maka swallowed. "I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything. Just show your papa what his daughter looks like wearing that new dress."

Maka was excited to put on the dress, to say the least. She paused to give Spirit the stink eye.

"Close your eyes."

He did.

"Cover them," she commanded.

"Yes ma'am," Spirit responded. He put his hands over his eyes.

"Now turn around!"

He did, smiling.

Maka waited a second to make sure he wasn't peeking before taking her clothes off and grabbing the top dress and pulling it over her head. The fabric was soft and breathable. Her papa had splurged on it. Maka was able to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Blair purred approvingly.

"You look good."

"Thanks, Blair."

"Blair gets to see before your poor Papa?" Spirit asked.

Maka rolled her eyes. "You can turn around now. And uncover your eyes."

Spirit turned around and let his hands fall to his side. His eyes were still firmly shut. Maka couldn't help but laugh at his pleased grin.

"Papa!"

"Okay, okay."

Spirit opened his eyes. He didn't speak for a long time, staring at Maka. The girl fidgeted, staring down at her feet.

"Is it…okay? I know it's more boring than all my other clothes…"

"Give me a spin."

"Papa!"

"Just one spin, okay?"

Maka giggled but complied. The dress twirled gracefully around her.

Spirit smiled proudly. "My little witch. You really do look a lot like your mama. She would be so proud."

Maka blushed a bit at the compliment, turning away. Spirit decided to leave with that.

"Hopefully you left enough room for food. I bought a bunch of light, nonperishable foods. They're downstairs on the table when you're ready to pack them. I also got you a canteen."

"Thank you Papa."

Maka spent the rest of the afternoon pacing around restlessly after packing. She finally left her house after an hour, not really having much to do. Spirit, who was tending to the garden out back, noticed his daughter.

"Maka! Why don't you go out to the woods? It'll be your last time for a while. You could always try gathering some of those herbs in your Mama's book."

It was good advice. And since she'd packed away everything she needed Maka had nothing better to do. She left out the back gate and took the dirt road towards the forest. She waved to the farmers she passed before taking a sharp right off the path and into the thickets.

The woods were always a place where Maka could relax. It was one of the few places that she didn't show he papa; it was the special secret she and her mama had shared. Maka pushed her way through the undergrowth until she came across a clearing. Sunlight streamed down through the trees. Out of sight was a creek where water was gurgling.

This was a place full of memories. When she was five Maka remembered getting lost here. Instead of fear there was adventure, climbing over rocks and fallen trees until her mama found her. At six she learned her letters, including the runes of the Old Tongue, a language only a handful of witches knew today. At seven she began to learn the names of various herbs and fungi that were useful. At eight she came here with her friend Tsubaki to read their schoolbooks and have picnics. At nine she stopped coming. At ten she couldn't be found elsewhere. At eleven she began bringing the herbology book with her and tried to remember how to read the Old Tongue. At twelve she finally got help from her papa. And here she was again, at thirteen, saying goodbye.

Maka removed her shoes. The damp moss squished under her feet, cool and familiar. She sat on one of the larger rocks by the stream and enjoyed the sounds of nature. Summer was in full swing, yet the forest was cool. A little pocket full of life.

She ended up not collecting much of anything, walking around the clearing and the paths that circled around it. After an hour Maka made her way home. She sat down at the picnic table in the backyard. She was about to nap when her father came out with a tray of food for lunch.

"Did you find everything you needed?" he asked.

"Not everything. But I have enough for now."

"You can always start potions next year."

Maka pouted. "Blair already told me that."

"Did she now?" Spirit laughed. "She knows what she's talking about then."

He set down the two glasses of ice tea and plate of cucumber sandwiches on the table. They sat in the shade of the old apple tree in the backyard. It was a beautiful summer day. Even a bit away from the forest the sounds of chirping birds could be heard.

"Do you have any idea where you'll go?"

Maka nodded. "But it's a secret. I don't want you to come find me. That'll kill the point of being independent!"

"I wouldn't dare!" Spirit said. Then he hesitated. "Okay, maybe once a month?"

"You're hopeless, Papa."

マカの宅急便

Before she knew it night had fallen. Neighbors came in their trucks carrying more food than needed and extra tables to lay it all out. Chairs were hauled out of the basement and kitchen. There was music playing from the radio,

It was around eight when Maka finally excused herself. She went upstairs, grabbing her bag and broom. She took her time going once more around her room to make sure she packed the essentials. Satisfied, Maka shouldered her bag and picked up her broom. The looking glass, compass, and map were all on chords and hung on the back of her chair. She slung them around her neck and ran downstairs.

"I'm off!" she declared loudly. That got almost all of the adults to quiet. One of the women turned down the radio as Maka made her way squarely to the center of the driveway. All of her friends surrounded her, asking questions.

"Where are you going to go?" one of her friends asked.

"The city!" Maka replied. "I want to go somewhere where I can see the ocean."

A chorus of 'that's nice' and 'I'm so jealous' followed. Maka frowned a bit.

"It's not going to be easy! I have to work while I'm out there!"

"Yeah, but you'll make time to go to the beach, right?" one of her friends said.

They all shared a final laughed before Maka told them she was ready to leave.

"Just five more minutes!"

"Nonsense," she said. "If I don't leave now I'll never go."

"Maka, wait!"

Irritated by the interruption (didn't he realize how much concentration flying took?) Maka turned around to see her father stepping away from the small gathering with something in his hands. A…was that a broom?

Spirit held it out in front of him. Maka dismounted her own broom and walked over to her papa.

"It was your mama's," he said. "And her mother's before her. When Kami…when your Mama left, she made me promise I'd give this to you when you turned thirteen. A last little coming-of-age present. 'A broom that'll fly true through any storm,' she said. I know you've only ever used your broom when flying, so this one may be finicky, but—"

"I'll fly it!" Maka stated. Determination shone in her eyes.

Spirit nodded. The two traded brooms. Once it was done father and daughter stared at each other, suddenly unable to communicate. Silence spread between them like molasses.

"I guess this is it, then," said Maka after an awkward moment.

"I guess so."

She kicked the ground a bit, unable to meet her father's eyes. "Bye Papa."

And Spirit hugged her.

Maka was shocked, but she didn't pull away. As much as he was a dirty cheat, town womanizer, and drank a bit more than prescribed by the doctor, he was her father. Spirit had been there since her first steps, her first words, her first day of school, her first solo flight. And now, her first move from home. Maka sank into his familiar embrace.

She wouldn't be seeing this man for a whole year, Maka realized with a start. What will that be like? she wondered.

"My little witch," he murmured, stroking her hair. "Be safe."

"I will."

"Write to me as soon as you've settled in. Or call."

"Only after I've settled."

"Of course. And no boys!" he said a bit firmer.

"Papaaaa!" she wined as her friends giggled.

She could practically smell the sour expression on his face. "I'm serious! You're there to work and train, not to go gallivanting with some young boy. Don't let them try to seduce you."

"What, like how you went about with Mama?"

Several of the men gathered began to tease Spirit. Maka glanced up and giggled at her papa's paling face. Served him right.

After almost another half minute she sighed.

"Um, Papa? I think you can let go now."

He pulled away, blushing slightly. But Spirit was smiling. "You're right. Y-y-you should g-go…"

Oh geez, thought Maka. Here we go.

Turning her back so she wouldn't have to see her father blubbering, Maka strode to the center of the front yard. She mounted the broom, clipping the portable radio to the handle and adjusting her bag one last time.

"Blair!"

The cat ran from the neighbor's bush (no doubt saying goodbye to the feline friends she had) and jumped onto Maka's bag.

"Bu-tan's ready to go!"

Maka's friends began cheering then.

"Good luck Maka!"

"You've got this girl!"

Maka winked at her friends before focusing her energy into the broom. She could sense the it slowly awakening and accepting her magic. The feeling flooded from her chest in a familiar way, like talking to an old friend. Wind gathered. Maka felt her feet leave the ground. A pang of nervousness went through her. It was the first time using her mother's broom after all. It was a great responsibility.

The broom must've sensed her uncertainty for it hovered a few feet off the ground before slowly sinking back down. It's lack of enthusiasm did nothing to deter Maka, who gave it a firm slap.

The broom gave a sudden lurch up, forcing the air out of Maka's lungs. Her sense of direction was skewed with as it began spinning. She could hear the worried shouts of the people far, far below as she continued to spiral up. Maka bit her lip, willing the fear away, and gripped the broom tightly.

"Fly straight, will you? I bet you were nowhere near this rude with Mama!"

Just as suddenly as it had lurched up, the broom halted. Maka felt her neck whip a bit, and groaned. She looked down. Everyone was much farther below than she had ever seen before (Maka didn't dare fly too high since there was no one to catch her).

She felt Blair's claws unhook from her dress. The cat climbed over Maka's shoulder and sat on her bag.

"Are you alright, Blair?"

"Just a bit squeamish. You really shot up there, didn't you?"

"I didn't choose to!" Maka huffed. But she did feel the hum of the broom below her. Looks like it had calmed down too.

Trust me, she willed, then descended until she could make out everyone's faces. They all looked relieved. Maka waved, smiling brightly, before turning away from her childhood village and heading towards the darkening horizon.

Spirit stood there, staring out into the night long after Maka's silhouette had vanished from view. Most of the guests and friends were making their way home. Many of the men gave him one last pat on the back, the women congratulating him as they dragged their excited children home.

It was the last hand on his back that got Spirit's attention. The light touch lingered on his shoulder a bit. Spirit turned to see a blond boy of seventeen wearing long black robes.

"Brother Justin."

The young priest—a longtime friend of the family's son—gave Spirit a reassuring smile.

"Your daughter will be fine. She is strong and brave. There is no reason to fear for her." Justin bowed his head. "Come, let us pray. God will guide your daughter."

Spirit wasn't the type of guy to pray. Nor was he actually sure if God existed. But he still closed his eyes, put his hands together, and prayed long and hard for Maka's safety and success.

This probably isn't clear, but I did base this story somewhat off the early 1960's, going along with Hayao Miyazaki's idea of a Europe that was never torn apart by WWII. There will be some sexism and a lack of cell phones and computers as a result. I do my best to keep everything in line with the time period, but obviously I'm not perfect. *shrugs*

Next chapter: Maka's week long journey to a city that faces the sea.