Soul tossed the letter onto his desk leaning back in his chair. "Did you get a letter from your grandfather?" Maka asked peeking in.

"Yeah, he wants to stop by next week when he's in town and have dinner with us. Is that ok?"

The blond girl nodded. "Sure!" She said going back to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner.

Soul sighed and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he looked to the photo on the desk of his grandparents his mind floating into the past. It had been a while since he had moved in with Maka and even longer since he had lived with his parents, but of all his family he missed his grandfather the most.

His family was normal, very wealthy, but normal. His father vice-president of a bank and his mother a lawyer; just a typical average family. However, he was not. It was a recessed trait, the weapon gene, his great grandfather could transform but no one else had received the trait so he was sent to live with his grandparents when he was 6 where he could better understand his gift. His grandparents were kind and gave him everything, even if he didn't ask. His love for nice suits, jazz music, his want to be cool all came from wanting to be as cool as his grandfather. He taught him how to play the piano and his grandmother taught him to dance to the many songs his grandfather knew. But his grandfather was a successful businessman not a deathscythe and never fought or wanted to though he was acquainted with Shibusen and Shinigami-sama.

Technicians and weapons would gather at parties; the older and experienced could talk and exchange stories while the younger could find partners. His grandfather knew that he wanted to be a deathscythe and began to hold parties attracting hundreds of people looking for their "other half" or rather hopping to find Soul's. Soul didn't want to browse through them like they were cars, trying to find the best looking or newest model. He wanted to meet a technician who would fall into his lap, someone whom he was meant to be with. He would play the piano for hours at the party most of the technicians leaving him alone, watching from afar, going into the other room to chat where it was quiet. But during one party a girl stayed, watching him play. He could feel her eyes on his back and even if he would have grown irritated with most but she didn't bother him, her eyes were fine. After a few songs and the room was bare he spoke. "Do you have any requests?" He said in a velvety tone.

"I don't know many." Her voice was soft but pure. "Could you pick something to play?"

"I could but I've been doing that all night." There was a moment of silence though it didn't feel awkward to him. If he didn't want to speak he wouldn't but he wanted to continue talking to her. He hadn't felt that way toward the others, like something was drawing him toward her. Most of the girls only wanted to talk because of who he was, handsome and of a wealthy family, it was nice to not have to be defensive. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"Yes." She approached him; her boots making a dull sound on the tile floor unlike the heels the other girls were wearing. He smiled, her shoes said a lot about her. She was different; she wasn't there to attract anyone, but to work. "I do think it's strange that there's no photos in the frames."

Soul looked at the wall seeing the many empty frames. He didn't want anyone to know who he was, to know about his background, so he removed all the photos of his family. "Maybe the owner likes it that way."

"No." She said disagreeing in a way that was just stating her opinion. "It maybe to give us the idea that weapons are like the frames and are missing something, and a technician could complete them, allow them to fulfill their purpose."

He blew out air past his lips in disbelief laughing at her idea; she looked to deeply into things. He turned around to get a look at her, this person that amused him. "Thin." He thought when seeing her. She was thin, her blond hair was thin even if it was tied up in pigtails, but her large eyes were green like olives and she looked directly at him not away but into his eyes."She is interesting." He thought grining. "I'll play another song for you but what I'm going to play for you is my soul." He turned back to the keys and began to play a song that seemed to go between both light and dark; he poured his life essence into it wanting for her to see who he really was deep down. When he finished he waited, listening to the silence that began to fill the room and the notes began to fade. "She probably left some time after I started." He thought looking the black and white keys over.

"You have a very powerful soul."

He smirked hearing her voice. "So she didn't leave." He turned to her again. "I'm Soul Eater, a weapon. What's your name?"

"Maka. I'm a technician." She seemed so proud, it was almost child like. "What sort of weapon are you?"

He stood up putting his hands in his pockets. "A scythe." He didn't want to brag but he he knew it looked that way but he couldn't wipe the grin off his face.

Her eyes widened and her whole face lit up with joy. "I've always wanted to be a scythe technician." She was still professional about it but couldn't hide her excitement; she truly meant what she said.

"Its nice to meet you, Maka." He said in a soft suave voice holding out his hand.

Two years had past and he had only grown closer to her, they had achieved so much in such a small time, became the others best friend, someone he couldnt live without. He was grateful to his grandfather for helping him find her, he owed him so much. He could still hear his grandfathers words in his head when he tried to thank him. "I would give you the world if you wanted it."

"Soul, dinners ready!" Maka called.

"Ok." he smiled standing up looking at the photo again. "You did give me the world, old man."