For SoMa Week 2016: Prompt 5 (Red String of Destiny)

A 3 part AU in 3 chapters describing 3 different lifetimes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.

Part 1: A Brush With Destiny

Elizabeth Thompson was a crooner with a flirting streak a mile long. The number of gentlemen she had danced a dinner out of was an impressive number for any woman. It was what made other women titter nervously behind her back and clutch their partner's arms tighter. It was what Maka anxious to even consider going out with her old friend. Yet here she was, walking through one of the best bootlegging establishments she'd seen. For a girl whose father was a well-known politician, Maka was surprised to be let in until she saw the number of political figures loitering around the room. Finding Shibusen at all was a miracle. Not anyone could find one of the most popular underground bars in Death City.

"You need to sit right here," she said. "You're my guest and that means you've got front row seats. So basically, the best seats in the house."

"Because they're at the front?"

"Because they're by the piano." Liz sat Maka down at a table and gestured to the grand piano on the stage's far right. It was a beautiful, rich ebony with an equally handsome, ivory haired pianist leaning against its body.

The man's pinstriped suit came down his body in smooth, long lines. His cigarette burned slowly, idly, between his lips after being lit by a man next to him, and Maka found herself completely entranced.

"Maka?"

"Hmm?" Someone walked by her and she tried to catch a glimpse of the piano man from between glittering gowns and fine pressed suits.

"Maka, what the heck are you doing?" asked Liz, coming right in front of her friend's face. "What are you staring at?"

"The piano," said Maka seamlessly, still eager to see the man set to play.

"You mean the gentleman next to it," said Liz. "That looker is Soul. No last name. He might even have a different first name, but down here, he's called Soul."

"He's the pianist, is he not?" she asked, not bothering to hide her curiousity now that she had been found out.

"Yeah, actually." Liz sat back down in the seat next to her with her hands folded beneath her chin. "How did you know?"

"Well, he is standing by a piano," laughed Maka. "I thought it was obvious."

"Not really," said Liz slowly, "since there are at least three other men by the piano. One of them is even sitting at the piano bench. Why Soul?"

"There are?" Maka looked closer and realized that Liz was right. There were other people loitering around the piano; men that she had not even registered when she first glanced over. "I didn't see them."

"Maka, they've been there the whole time. Talk about tunnel vision, Maka. The fact that you only saw Soul and you assumed he was piano player. How did you figure that one out?"

Her eyes dropped from the handsome man to her friend, whose glittering dress and drawn shoulders made her look regal and aristocratic. "I don't know," she confessed. "I just looked over and I sorrt of know."

"'Just knew,' huh?" Liz crossed her legs and threw her golden curls back over her shoulder. "Are you sure you've never seen him around Death City before?"

"I haven't. White hair on a gentleman is hard to forget. Even so," she allowed herself another drawn out stare at the piano man, "I feel like I've seen him before."

"Maybe you have. I don't know how many mayoral balls you've gone to, but perhaps you saw Soul play at one of those?"

"Not possible. They always get some old guy to play before throwing on a record. It's not fancy at all. This 'Soul' on the other hand... I don't know what he plays but it certainly looks like something unforgettable."

"Really?" Liz seemed intrigued by this new information. "I'll be sure to tell him you said that. He'd be plenty flattered."

"Oh, don't do that. I just want to enjoy the atmosphere. You know how badly my father wants to keep me away from the bootleggers. This is pretty forbidden already."

"In a place like this, it can always get worse," Liz promised with a wink before standing up. "I'm off to prepare my set. I'll see you after the show, yeah? I can introduce you to Soul."

"I'll be fine. I don't need you to introduce me."

"Then you better introduce yourself. Gents like him are worth the effort."

She hummed. Certainly, Soul would be worth the time to approach. Leaning against the piano, he gave off an air of aloofness and indifference; as if the venue he would be playing at was a casual event and not one of the biggest bootlegging establishments in the city. Regardless, he was familiar to her. From the thick white hair to the polished shoes, Soul was someone whom a part of her knew intrinsically. She'd never been struck by that before but she was struck all the same.

Maka forced her eyes away when Soul sat down on the piano bench and Liz stepped up to the microphone.

Her friend began her songs, smooth and husky and gorgeous. Maka found its beautiful as always , but her gaze kept drifting back to the white haired piano player. His music filled the room with its jazzy sound and people took to the dance floor wearing wile grins. They all danced to Soul and Liz's rhythmic swing. Maka knowing of her distinct lack of co-ordination, settled for bobbing her head and a slight sway to her hips to the beats as best as she could. She got up midst all the party and celebration to move to the bar instead, throwing down a few coins in exchange for a mug of illegal liquor. The tender set to fixing her a drink, and Maka admired as Liz's performance, long and excited, came to an end. She clapped with the rest of her fellow patrons, cheered when Liz bowed, and waited as her friend finished the set and strolled off-stage.

There was a swath of people blocking her view of the piano man, but Maka consoled herself with the fact that she could admire Soul's music, as it ran through the air and surrounded every member in the bar. His sound was a little different than before. She couldn't catch sight of his fair hair from between the throngs of dancers and other party goers, but she didn't have much of a chance to look because Liz soon joined her after. Liz met Maka at the bar as that was where Maka had chosen to take refuge.

"How was it?" asked Liz, grasping at Maka's hands and nearly knocking over her glass.

"Gorgeous, as always," laughed Maka, "enough to make all the single men swoon."

"All is a bit much."said Liz with exaggerated modesty. "It was decent."

"Decent? It was amazing and you know it!"

"I do, don't you?" Liz threw her golden locks over her shoulder again. "This alcohol's not cheap. I ought to find a rich sweetheart and soon."

"You will," said Maka, "in fact, here comes one now." Maka and Liz turned their attention to the fine gentleman moving forward to approach them. He had pale ivory buttons, bone like in shape and white cuff links. His tie, another pearly material, sat starkly against the pitch black of his suit. His hat hid most of his hair, but the gentleman's eyes looked like liquid gold in the bar's lighting.

"Dinner," hummed Liz, pulling her fur shawl closer and pushing her boobs up. "This one's all mine. I'll meet you later. Are you okay on your own?"

"I'll be fine," said Maka, watching with both the pride and awe as Liz sauntered up to the gentleman. He kissed her hand and Liz surprised Maka with her boldness as she leaned down and returned the gesture by pressing her lips to his cheek. Perhaps it was the lighting, but she half thought the gentleman was blushing. Instead, they walked into the throng of people and disappeared between them, leaving Maka alone once again by the polished counter of the bar.

"Maka," said the barkeep, who was none other than her old friend Kilik Rung, "that you?"

"It is. I haven't seen you in a long time."

"As much as I loathe to admit it, I think we met when your father was being arrested with Black*Star for over intoxication."

"Which was a long time ago," laughed Maka sorely. "How long have you known about this place?"

"I got it a few months ago out of Black*Star."

"From that idiot? He can hardly keep his mouth shut about what girl he danced with. How could he have hidden this place from us for so long?"

"Beats me." Kilik topped up her glass. "So what's keeping you here? I know Liz brought you down and all, but there's got to be more. You don't look like the bootlegging type."

"I'm not," confirmed Maka, "but it's amazing to be here. The energy, the booze and the music are phenomenal. I wish the ban had never been enacted in the first place. Still," she leaned into the counter, "speaking of music, how much do you know about the piano player?"

"Which one?"

"Liz said his name was Soul; white hair, phenomenal sound."

"Phenomenal's not what most would call it."

"Why not? That's what it is."

"You ought to tell him that. Normally he gets 'confusing, enigmatic' or, our personal favourite, 'mysterious'."

"I don't know much about music, but I know when something is that amazing." Kilik grinned at her enthusiasm. "You sound relatively close to Soul. How much about him do you know?"

"Depends. I'm not really supposed to give groupies information on Soul's personal life."

"Groupie?" Maka gawked and her cheeks coloured darkly.

"His words exactly. So I'm not at liberty. However, you and I have been friends for a long time."

"A very long time."

"So it wouldn't hurt giving you a little information."

"You're the best, Kilik," cheered Maka.

They gossiped about Soul well into the evening. They caught up and bonded over Black*Star's recent antics and incompetency and Soul's stellar skill. It was only after a few hours, during a dry period, that he asked Maka about her interest in Soul.

"I don't know," she insisted. "He just seems really familiar for some reason.""Familiar, huh? You sure this isn't a case of 'love at first sight'?"

"I don't believe in that and you know it," said Maka, "but there's something about him that I feel like I've seen before. I can't explain."

He stopped her there to take a call. It was hurried, very urgent, and Kilik shouted a few things into the party that had broads scrambling off the laps of men and musicians hurriedly packing their instruments in their leather cases.

"What's happening?"

Kilik ordered a few men to take the remaining barrels and leave. He jumped over the counter and dragged Maka away.

"Kilik, what's going on?"

"The old man who owns this warehouse has been away on business for the last couple months. Looks like he got wind what we were using this place as the resident speak easy. This is a police raid; there's no doubt about it. We've got to clear out."

"But-"

"Just get out. Go home. I'd walk you there if I could, but I've got to clean up. Just go home quickly. Keep your head down and don't talk to anyone until you get home. Just to be safe, got it?"

"Got it."

"The cops are trigger happy sometimes, so be careful."

Just after Kilik's warning, she heard a gun shot, and Maka ran to disappear into the evacuating crowd. She shoved her way past people, looking for any familiar faces. She couldn't find Liz. She couldn't find the handsome piano man. She felt lost among the fleeing people. When they all finally burst onto the street, Maka strode down and tried to catch a taxi to get her home faster. The sound of gunshots reintroduced themselves to them, and Maka flinched as a black vehicle drove up.

She arrived home half and hour later, her hands shaking as she removed her gloves. The dim lamplight cast shadows along her bed; a silhouette of her changed against her closet door. Maka had a hard time sleeping that night, and she awoke with a heavy feeling in her chest: a feeling that something had gone wrong.