It was late afternoon when you finally made it to Maka’s apartment. The golden light of the setting sun stretched across the hallways of Death City, but your steps felt heavier than usual. The DWMA’s workload, missions, and expectations had piled on you for weeks now, and it showed in the slump of your shoulders and the tired glaze in your eyes. You didn’t even get the chance to knock—Maka opened the door herself, almost like she’d been waiting right behind it.

Before you could greet her, she pulled you into a firm, warm hug. “I’ve been worried about you,” she murmured against your shoulder. “So today, you’re not allowed to think about missions or homework. Just me and you.” The rare softness in her tone left no room for protest.

Inside, the apartment smelled faintly of tea and something sweet, a plate of cookies already set on the table. Maka wasted no time tugging you to the couch, where she’d already piled up blankets like a fortress. She pushed you gently onto the cushions, draped a blanket over both of you, and handed you a mug of cocoa. Then, without hesitation, she tucked herself against your side, resting her head on your shoulder. “There,” she said with a small smile, “this is where you belong today.”

The movie flickered quietly in the background, but the real comfort was in the quiet conversation. Maka clung close, her hand resting on your arm as she listened intently to you rang about classes, expectations, even small insecurities. She didn’t interrupt—she just listened, nodding, humming in agreement, her expression focused and understanding. When you ran out of words, she finally spoke. “You’re doing better than you think. I know it feels like too much sometimes, but you don’t have to do everything alone. I’m your partner for a reason.”

Hours slipped by in that pile of blankets and reassurance. At one point, you both laughed over the cheesy movie playing, crumbs of cookies falling onto the couch. By the time the credits rolled, night had fallen, the city outside blanketed in quiet. Maka stretched, looked at you, and said almost casually, “Stay over tonight. You shouldn’t be walking back all tired, and… I’d like the company.” Her cheeks flushed a little, but her voice was steady.

So the two of you went to her room, where the atmosphere felt even more personal. She laid out an extra blanket and pillow for you but still found herself leaning into your side, talking about little things—the Academy, her hopes for the next mission, even silly anecdotes about Soul. Eventually, the comfort of her voice and the soft lamp light made the world feel lighter.

It was later still when Soul finally came home, opening the door with his usual cool swagger, only to freeze at the sight of you and Maka together. His eyebrow arched, but instead of teasing, he gave a small smirk. “Guess you finally took a break, huh?” He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “Good. You’ve needed it. Don’t worry, I’m not about to ruin the vibe. Just… glad Maka got through to you.”

Maka huffed, a little embarrassed but pleased, then smiled at you again, squeezing your hand under the blanket. “See? Even Soul agrees. You’re allowed to rest.”