Epilogue: Hope

Sitting in the university stadium on an unseasonably warm winter day, waiting for Soul to return to his seat beside her, waiting for the ceremony to begin, Maka had time to reflect. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind, were a whirlwind even still, but she had a feeling things would settle into some sort of normalcy soon and was grateful. Still, it had been a strange month.

Convincing Kid to go with them had been easy after what happened with Masamune; that Asura meant business was suddenly clear to everyone involved, and the Shinigami gave no further protest. They would all go back to Boulder.

Their return to the mountain haven was accompanied by little fanfare. They were debriefed by the Council and asked to remain quiet. The newcomers were sequestered, much as Tsubaki and Black*Star had been before them, and Spartoi was thanked for a job well done and told that they would be given a chance to recuperate. None complained. Though physically, they had recovered on the road, all could use the mental break. They did not see their new friends for over a week, though Spartoi gathered frequently, their bond even stronger since the incident with Masamune. Black*Star and Tsubaki stayed; while Tsubaki admitted that they had originally joined the group only to pursue the Dark Sword, with her brother gone, she was free to live as she wished, and what she wished was to stay in Boulder. Black*Star would stay as well. It seemed he would follow Tsubaki wherever she chose to go.

In some ways, little had changed from the time before they left to find Kid—Spartoi was still a team, they still received missions, and the city was still growing. In other ways, Maka's world had been reborn. Their team would be joined by the young Shinigami and his weapons, who would take the leadership role in order to train and prepare for his future as a true Death God. The Scythe Meister had no objections; she had never relished the responsibility of being in charge. Moreover, spending time with the group from Wisconsin on the road had forged new friendships, and Maka found that she liked the group a good deal. She was more than happy to have them among their number.

The newcomers fit into Spartoi well, falling into an easy camaraderie with the existing group after already having been through so much together. Maka quickly befriended the two Pistols, Liz and Patti. They were loyal, they were strong, they were candid. Sure, Liz could be vain and frivolous and nosy when she had a mind to be, and Patti was rarely serious, but the Scythe Meister liked them all the same, and it was nice to have more girls around to even up the numbers, even more nice that they were people she was beginning to feel like she could trust. She liked Kid as well, though he was strange. He was serious and quiet, intelligent and astute, observant and, when he had a mind to be, quick witted. His oddity centered mostly on his compulsion, and Maka honestly felt sorry for him. The Shinigami seemed to have no control over his obsession with symmetry and order, and she was thankful that Liz had such a calming influence each time he went into one of his many fits, which was far more often than any of them would have liked. Still, it was nice to be around so many people she trusted, and Maka wouldn't have it any other way.

The additions to Spartoi were not all that changed, and the biggest change was really no change at all. After they returned to Boulder, falling into a deeper relationship with Soul had been as easy as breathing. They already shared their lives and their souls, had done so for months. Once both had come to realize that they shared their hearts as well that night in a cold, lonely kitchen in the Wisconsin wilderness, there has been no going back. They shared their first kiss the night they returned, warm and safe and home, and knew that they would someday share even more.

Maka felt a warm hand grasp her own, and was pulled from her reflections. His hand.

"Took you long enough," she huffed in half-hearted annoyance.

"There was a line." Soul responded.

"Excuses, excuses." He shrugged in response, swooping in to kiss her cheek in an attempt to placate her. It worked, as he had known it would, and she squeezed his hand, unable to keep the smile from her face.

Hand in hand, they watched as the Council took the stage, watched as they announced the finding of a new Shinigami, watched as Kid stood, clearly disliking the scrutiny, yet gazing out to the gathered masses of Boulder, tall and proud and unafraid. Maka smiled up at him, proud as well, of him, of them all.

Some said that they were living at the end of days, the end of the world. Maka used to think so, too, but as she watched their newly minted Shinigami take his place among the Council, her weapon's hand in her own, she knew that they were at the start of something important. Sure, Kid was a fragment still, but just as a sliver of moon will eventually wax full, so, too, would he, and with his rise, a new day would dawn. For the first time in two decades, there was hope, real hope, that the world would not end in everlasting despair, real hope that they could go on to build something enduring and true. In the end, that's all any of them could ask for.

The death of Masamune, the ascension of Kid, it was an ending. And yet, it was only the beginning.

A/N: There will be a sequel to this, Shinigami Rising. Look for the first chapter to be posted within the next couple of weeks. I hope you enjoyed World Without End-please do leave a review to let me know what you thought.