A/N: This was written for Soma Week on Tumblr. Day One: Memories. It's actually something I've wanted to write for a while and just never did, so I'm glad I finally got it done. This is written from Soul's perspective and it's actually the first time I've written from his point of view so I'm sorry if he's ooc or anything. This is based of the anime not the manga for plot reasons. Italics are his thoughts. I will be writing one for each day of Soma Week so I hope you enjoy them.
Disclaimer: If I owned Soul Eater Maka and Soul would be having little adorable scythe and meister-lettes right now. But I don't, and we are all still waiting for the first kiss.
That sound. I know that sound somehow. My eyes slowly open; my vision a whirling blur. Those screams. They sound painful. The last thing I remember is looking at my meister as I took that blow from the kishin. I must have passed out. But where is Maka? Maka screams as the kishin grips her side to wake her from her unconscious weapon form, breaking ribs in the process.
That sound. Screaming? The realization hit me with the intensity of a freight train as soon as my brain registers it's her. Maka is screaming. I try to move but I can't. My body is too weak. I look around desperately trying to see her, she is nowhere. I can't see her, but I can hear her. Screaming. Screaming in pain, screaming for her life. If I can just reach her I can make it stop.
What is he doing to her? Panic begins to build as all the scenarios run through my mind, and the very likely possibility that he his killing her. I stare into the rubble around me in terror. I try to move again with no luck. How useless am I? I can't even move. I can't protect her. I've failed. She deserves better.
Her screaming tears through my chest, my eyes water. This is it. The battle is over. It ends with her. Are these the last breaths she'll take? Am I? Am I listening to my meister die right in front of me?
He scrambles to a sitting position, breathing heavy and ragged. He can feel the sweat dripping off his face and his heart pounding against in his chest. Her screams still echoing in his mind. Nightmare. He thinks as he wipes his forehead dry with a shaking hand. How uncool. He tries to laugh at himself, but the noise he makes comes out strangled and frightened. He takes a few deep, slow breaths. It's not like this is the first time he's dreamed this. He's re-lived this memory almost every night since that battle a month ago. Her screams haunt him, reminding him of his failure to her. He tosses the covers aside in frustration.
He gets up and walks to the kitchen, quietly taking out a glass and filling it from the tap. He stares at Maka's door as he leans against the counter, taking a sip. He knows she's right behind that door, sleeping without a care in the world. But she could not be. His fears remind him. That battle could have gone the way he thought it had in that moment. He would have been powerless to stop it. Asura could have killed her right then, or at any point when she was fighting alone. His brave meister. Fighting alone. The thought sickens him and he pours the rest of the water down the drain, leaving his empty glass in the sink.
He leaves the kitchen but stops at her door. He knows she's safe, but the uneasiness in his heart yearns to make sure. He really shouldn't bother her. He can't let her see him like this, it would only worry her. The thought of going back to his own room only reminds him of the memory that continues to plague him. Somehow without his knowledge his hands had already opened the door. He sighs and steps in, closing it soundlessly behind him.
She's lying there, eyes closed and breathing soft and steady. Her hair shimmers slightly as the glow from the moon hits it through the window. What would he have done without her? He couldn't bear the thought. She was everything to him. His meister, his partner, his best friend, his family, his... love. He grimaces at the last part, however true it is, it's still uncool to admit it. He takes a small step toward her. He really shouldn't be doing this. What would she say if she woke to find him just staring at her. His head hurt at just the thought of the chop he'd receive.
Before he knew it though he was standing beside her at the side of her bed. His eyes scanning every part of her sleeping form, desperate for the assurance everything was fine. His eyes become unfocused as he continues to think. Suddenly a cool, soft hand touches his own and pulls him out of the darkness of his mind.
"Soul?" Her voice is barely audible.
"Um. I uh. Sorry Maka. I wasn't trying to be a creep or anything. I just. Uh." He doesn't know quite what to say. He is grateful that it's night and the darkness hides his blushing face. He prepares to get hit, but it never comes. Instead she gently pulls him arm, moving the blanket aside as an invitation. He can't help but comply. He sighs heavily in relief as he lies down next to her.
"Wasamatter?" She murmurs, groggy and half asleep.
"Nightmare." He says, hoping she won't ask anything else.
"Watabout?" Comes her reply and he stares at her, her eyes still closed.
"Bad memory." He relays, knowing that she won't prod any further into that answer. She's never been one to hound him about his past. She cracks her eyes open to look into his.
"Let's make new ones then." She says with a tired but meaningful smile and wraps her thin arms around him. He grins back at her, his own eyes growing heavy as he falls into sleep. He dreams about her smile for the rest of the night.
