When Soul first started at the DWMA, he had been nervous as all hell. He wasn't nervous about starting at a new school, he was thrilled to be away from his parents, and he was eager to finally be out on his own and meet new people. He was terrified of finding a partner. He wasn't afraid that he wouldn't be able to find a partner, they had told him when he applied that scythes weren't very common and most Death City kids dreamed of making an actual Death Scythe, he'd probably get a ton of partner requests instantly.

No, he was afraid of actually successfully finding a partner.

He had never been close to another human being before. He didn´t have a particularly strong relationship with his parents, they always had his best interests in mind, but at times, he found them overbearing. While he loved his brother more than anything, they weren't as close as he would've liked. Wes had no issue being open with everyone, he was always honest with Soul and shared all of his secrets with his younger brother. Soul told Wes just enough so Wes wouldn't pry, but he preferred to keep things to himself. He had known he was a weapon for three whole days before his brother found out. When his weapon gene surfaced, he hadn't planned to tell anyone, he was just gonna lock himself in his room for a few days and figure out how to control his newfound abilities until he was sure they would never accidentally activate around other people, but Wes had happened to walk into his room during of Soul's practice sessions, and he was ecstatic for his little brother.

Of course, Wes told mom and dad, and they bought him a first class plane ticket to Death City to attend the finest school for weapons and meisters. Soul wasn't upset that his brother told his parents, he was grateful that he could earn how to use his newfound abilities and not accidentally kill someone. If anything, he wished he could be like his brother and be brave enough to tell his parents himself. More than anything he wished he wasn't terrified of intimacy but he was.

And here he was, trying to pick someone so they could entrust their lives to each other.

God he was screwed.

Even if he hadn't been wearing a suit, he would have felt out of place at the introduction event. His mother had demanded he wear the pinstripe jacket and pants to make a good first impression, but he was never one for formal attire. He wasn't the only one who had dressed nicely, but at least everyone else looked like they wanted to be there. He avoided everyone's eye, hoping no one would approach him. During the opening speech someone had explained how the school worked, and he remembered hearing them mention that some weapons could work on their own if they decided, but it was better to have a meister to increase their power. That was the only thing Soul had listened to, and it had given him a little hope. Maybe he could just work by himself? He obviously wasn't suited to have a partner, so it would be safer if he just fought alone.

He slouched away from the main hall where hopeful meisters and weapons mingled to contemplate his new option. There was absolutely no way he could partner with someone else. Being partners meant sharing everything, from their living arrangements down to their, what did they call it? Soul wavelength? How was he supposed to share his soul with a stranger if he couldn't even be truthful with his own family?

After wandering around for a while, he had found himself standing outside a music room. Some higher power must have been toying with him, there was no way he should have ended up outside the only music room in the entire school, the school was freakin huge! He pushed open the door and was greeted by a beautiful grand piano. There was something comforting in seeing a familiar object in a foreign place, and for a moment, he forgot his earlier dilemma. Dress shoes clicked against the tile as he crossed the room to the instrument, he placed his hand gingerly on the fall board, deciding if it was alright for him to play, or if he even really wanted to.

"Do you play?"

His head whipped around and his eye snapped to the door. A girl with pigtails and a trench coat stood in the doorway, hands held behind her back, her green eyes warm and inviting.

"Uhhh, yeah?"

"Could I hear you play? You can say no if you want." He was thankful she had given him the option to refuse her request, normally he would have immediately said no and run away, but some gut feeling was telling him to play for her. She exuded an aura of confidence that drew him to her. The pull scared and excited him.

"Yeah." She would listen.

He was sure of it.

Not in the way his parents listened, eagerly waiting for him to finish so they could offer constructive criticism. Not in the way Wes listened, hearing the parts he wanted to hear and telling Soul what he thought Soul wanted to hear. She would listen, and she would hear him.

All of him.

He opened the fall board and took his place on the bench. He heard the click of her boots as she stepped further into the room. He knew what song he should play. It was his song, the one he wrote when he needed to say something but didn't know how.

Ignoring the girl standing behind him, he slammed on the keys and pounded out his secrets. He played his anger for the parents that didn't give him enough affection when he was younger when he craved it so badly. Shouted his resentment toward Wes for being perfect at everything and alway apologizing for his perfection. Sang of his disappoint in himself, for not being strong enough to admit what he really wanted and for making himself miserable.

He wanted a partner.

More than anything he wanted someone he could trust with all of him, who would accept his faults and understand his differences. He wanted to share himself with another person, someone who would care for him, not because they shared the same blood but because they shared a soul.

He wanted a meister.

The last note rang out with a finality that locked in his decision. He was going to find a meister. Perhaps the same divine powers that brought him to the music room had also brought him this girl. He hadn't spoken more than three words to her and didn't know if she was a meister or if she was even looking for a partner, but he prayed that she could be the partner he needed. He rotated on the bench to face her, placing his hands in his pockets to hide how they shook with his nerves.

"What did you think?" He'd never had to ask before. She tilted her head in thought, although she was looking in his direction, she wasn't looking at him. Almost like she was looking through him, or inside of him. Finally her eyes focused on his and she smiled.

"I didn't really understand it, but I like it."

Soul barked out a laugh. Somehow it was exactly what he needed to hear. "What's your name?"

"Maka Albarn, what's yours?"

"Soul."

"Are you a weapon or a meister?"

"Weapon."

"What kind?"

"Scythe."

Her eyes lit up. "Are you looking for a partner? I'm looking for a scythe to make a better Death Scythe than my father!" Luck must have been on his side, or perhaps it was fate.

Soul closed his eyes and stood from the bench, squared his shoulders and stood at full height. It felt like some strange dream, but when he opened his eye she was still there.

"Sure, sounds interesting."

Maka was very patient with him, she had spent her whole life in Death City, although she had never been outside of the city, she knew that some of the customs were vastly different than the rest of the world and Soul would need to adjust. He was grateful for her take-charge attitude, otherwise he would have been completely helpless. She found them an apartment to live in and took care of the paperwork. She explained to him that the academy gave the students allowances each week for food and lodging, and they could pick up some extra cash by taking missions, they would split the rent and expenses, was that okay? Soul knew money wouldn't be an issue for him, his parents would also be sending him an allowance each month. When he assured her not to worry about the money, she looked like she was about to ask more about it, but she shrugged her shoulders and carried on. They had more important things to discuss.

They went together to fill out the paperwork that declared them as partners. The woman behind the desk told them to fill out their birth names in box one and then use their selected names for the rest of the document. Soul turned to Maka for clarification. She told him students were allowed to pick their own names at the school, it was a DWMA tradition. What paperwork did he have to fill out? Maka asked the woman at the desk for the correct forms and then helped him change his name.

Soul was a very fitting name for Death City, the first place he wouldn't be embarrassed by his name, but something felt wrong using the last name "Evans" when he was trying to create a new life for himself. Maka had already told him some of the duties of a weapon, he would learn more in class, but he wanted to know some of the major points so he wouldn't be completely behind. Weapons ate kishin souls. A fact he found both alarming and ironic. His name was Soul and he would be eating souls to earn a living. He wasn't an Evans anymore, he was an eater.

Soul Eater.

Maka's father insisted on meeting him. Maka had told Soul a bit about her family situation, and Soul knew meeting her father was going to be a disaster. They planned to meet outside the school, there was no way she was going to tell him where their apartment was, he'd never leave them alone if he knew.

"Makaaaaa, why did you let a disgusting boy move in with you, you should let papa pick a nicer partner for you!" Maka's eye narrowed dangerously, she clenched her fist, and her jaw tightened. Soul could see the fighter in her, knew the reason she was a meister. "Papa can pick the perfect partner for you, one that won't steal your innocence!" Soul was pissed, how could this guy assume so much about him, he didn't even know him!

Before Soul had a chance to defend himself, Maka shifted her stance and growled. Soul looked to her curiously and caught the moment she brought her hands into a fighting position, and Soul was positive she was gonna punch Spirit in the face. She surprised him by rotating her body and tornado roundhouse kicking her father in the face into the wall of the school. Soul's jaw dropped, what was he getting himself into?

She grabbed his arm, "Soul's my partner! I picked him myself and he's perfect for me, you're gonna have to accept that or I'll never speak to you again." She turned in a huff and yanked Soul after her as she began the descent down the school's massive staircase. Souls look of surprised morphed into a grin. He knew exactly what he was getting into, he had the coolest partner ever.

Death City laws were confusing to Soul.

By 13, you could have a drivers license, by 15 you could vote, and by 18, you could drink. In Soul´s world, most kids weren't taken seriously until they were 18, sometimes older, but in Death City, most kids were practically adults by the time they were 14. Make explained that most Death City kids experienced more in their lifetime by the time they were 12 than most adults outside of the city had ever seen in a lifetime. A lot of kids attended DWMA and moved away from their parents at a fairly young age.

You couldn't send children to war against the evil in the world and not treat them as adults.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Soul spent the next few weeks before school studying traffic rules and taking a drivers Ed course. He had driven golf carts and dune buggies with Wes in the past and passed the class easily. He asked Maka what she thought about buying a car, they would need it to get to missions that were further away. Maka suggested they see if the school would help cover the cost, they usually covered traveling expenses, maybe a car would qualify. Soul insisted on paying for it himself, he had a pretty decent savings account and could afford something used. He could have easily afforded something new, but Maka didn't need to know that. She went with him to look at cars, to make sure they got something practical and safe. Maka talked to the sales person, discussing makes and models, mileage and other features, and Souls eyes wandered to the one vehicle on the lot that looked anything but safe and practical.

"No. Come on, Soul, a motorcycle?"

"Maka, it's perfect." She rolled her eyes.

"It's the ugliest color I've ever seen. Can't you at least look for one in a nicer color?"

"Nah, this one's cool."

"Oh Death, fine." She waved over the salesperson. "Excuse me! How much is the bike?

Soul went back and took the class to legally drive a motorcycle, at Maka's insistence. A week later he was riding through the streets of Death City on the gaudiest orange motorcycle he'd ever seen, but he loved it. Maka asked if she could go for a ride with him.

"Um, I didn't buy a sidecar yet."

She giggled, "There's a seat behind you, silly."

"Oh, right." She strapped on the extra helmet they bought, swung her leg over the back and wrapped her arms around his torso. He stiffened. When was the last time he had been this close to someone? Before he had left home, his mother had hugged him, before that, moments of physical affection were rare for him. Maka would have to hold on to him for the whole ride. This felt stronger than any of the fleeting hugs he had ever gotten from his mother or any of the affectionate hair ruffling or playful punches he got from his brother. Maka was trusting him with her life in this moment. She was letting him take control, and he was flooded with overwhelming feeling of wanting to make someone else proud for the first time in his life. He would make Maka proud, he would be a good partner for her.

"Soul, you okay?"

"Yeah... Never driven with a passenger before, hold on tight." She squeezed him a little tighter. He could get used to this.