Author's note: I wrote this at one in the morning. Forgive me if it makes no sense to you. The overall idea was inspired by the parent of a friend who is living on residence for his first year in university. Bwahaha

Disclaimer: Soul Eater. I don't own it.

One whole day. No—it had been longer than that. It had been 24 hours, 36 minutes, and 11 seconds since she had moved out to live with her newly assigned weapon partner. The poor man actually had it timed down to the second. 24 hours, 36 minutes, and 17 seconds now, away from her Papa… and she hadn't even called!

All night last night, Spirit's ears strained to listen for the ring of the telephone so that he could snatch it up and hear his daughter's beautiful voice. When no phone call came, his hands itched to pick up the receiver and dial her number just to make sure that she was alright. But just as he began to dial, his eyes wandered over to the book that rested on his bedside table drawer, "Parenting for the Hopelessly Lost", and he remembered that "teenagers need their space—if you respect that, they will respect you". And respect from his Maka was definitely something he wanted. He dropped the phone back into its cradle.

Then, he began pacing. Back and forth, back and forth… Was she alright? Could she manage on her own? Wait… she wouldn't be on her own! His eyes narrowed as an image of that no good white-haired boy came into his mind. Would that boy try and 'pull some moves' on Maka? Spirit froze for a second and then ran for the door. Just a peek! Just a peek through the window to see if she was safe! She probably wouldn't even know! But just as he made it around the first block, he remembered that other book he had read, "Parenting No-No's—Mistakes You Don't Want to Make", which claimed that "if your child catches you spying on them, you can be sure that their trust in you will extinguish". And that wasn't something he wanted. He slowly made his way back home.

That night, Spirit couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned, fluffed his pillow, kicked off his covers then pulled them over his head, but nothing could get him to sleep, because nothing could make him forget that his baby girl wasn't sleeping in her room down the hall. Finally giving up on trying to sleep, the Death Scythe made his way down to the living room and absentmindedly popped a video into the player. He plopped down onto the couch and turned on the television. His body tensed as he realized that this was a home video of Maka's fifth birthday. Seeing the big smile on her face as she ran around in the party dress that he bought her… Spirit burst into tears.

Two tissue boxes later, the worried father finally fell asleep. Or cried himself to sleep, rather.

The next morning, he woke up on the couch and headed towards the kitchen, where he decided that he wasn't hungry. How could he have an appetite when his daughter was so far away from him?

He had tried to convince her to stay, but everyone knew that living together was instrumental for a meister and weapon to level and connect their wavelengths. Spirit knew that Maka had high standards for herself, and he himself, of course, wanted her to succeed as well. In the end, Maka was allowed to move into an apartment flat with Soul. Now, the Death Scythe regretted letting her go, even though he knew it was rather selfish of himself.

A few more hours went by until finally, Spirit couldn't contain himself anymore. Respect or no respect, he had to know if she was okay. He dove for the phone and dialled Maka's number. Ring… ring… ring… "Hi, you've reached Maka and Soul. We're unavai—" Click. She didn't pick up. Spirit took a deep breath and dialled again. Ring… ring… ring… "Hi, you've reached Ma—" Click.

His heartbeat erupted into an insane tempo as he asked himself why his angel hadn't picked up. Maybe she was still sleeping? One look at his watch told him he was wrong. Maka was an early riser and would definitely be up by now. She was probably in the washroom or something. He waited another five minutes and called again.

Still nothing. WHY?! Had she gone out? Maka rarely went out when she knew she had a lot of work to do. Cleaning, unpacking, and settling into a new home definitely qualifed as a lot of work.

He knew he was purposely avoiding the one other possibility that was floating around in his mind. He wished with all his heart that it wasn't for the reason for Maka not picking up.

He called her again. Ring… ring… ring… "Hi, you've reached Ma—" Click.

One more time! He dialled. This time he got the busy tone.

He dropped the phone. No. No no no NO NO NOOOO!! It can't be! "My Maka is ignoring my calls! … Sh--she hates me that much?" He dropped to the floor. "I'm a failure! She hates me! She hates me!" He cried and cried, cursing himself and his inability to be a good father.

Meanwhile…

VRRRRRRMMMMMM!! VRRRRMMMMMMMM!! VRRRR--!! Maka turned off the vacuum cleaner in annoyance and yelled "SOUL! Your vacuum cleaner sucks! It barely picks up any dust and it's so friggin' LOUD!!"

"…Whatever…", came the laid-back reply from inside a bedroom.

"Urgh!" Maka stomped off, stopping only to plug the telephone wire that the vacuum had tripped over back into its outlet.

End.

Author's note: Yes. 'Twas all a misunderstanding. Poor Spirit. He tries so hard. So yeah, a note to all you first year residence people—call your poor parents so that they don't die of heart attacks.

I hope you all found this entertaining. Please leave a review.