Hi! So, this is my first Soul Eater fanfic. i meant for it to be short, but if you look at the word count you will find that is it obnoxiously long. So, sorry about that. [:

in other news, i'm working on another Soul Eater fanfic that will be much longer but that won't be posted until much later

i really hope you enjoy this [:

Disclaimer: I do not own the awesomeness known as Soul Eater

"Soul? You coming or not?"

Soul Eater glanced up at his meister, tearing is eyes away from the television screen. Maka stood at the front door, zipping up her jacket. He noted that she was wearing his jacket over her uniform but he didn't say anything about it.

"Nah, I think I'll stay here. It's a lot warmer."

"Suit yourself." Maka opened the door and Soul hissed as the cold air brought goose bumps to his skin. She slipped out the door, shutting it amidst the heavy winds. Soul relaxed into the blanket he had on, his eyes droopy. Even though the TV was on, he couldn't force himself to pay attention. The screen buzzed with excitement as it showed the sports score for Death City in basketball. No doubt Black*Star was watching it at his house, Tsubaki trying desperately to keep him from breaking the television when his team was losing.

He grinned, remembering when he'd last watched a game with Black*Star; remembering how his friend had been far too into it; remembering how Maka had hit him extremely hard with an encyclopaedia on account of the fact that they'd needed to buy a new TV.

Soul continued to watch the people, normal people. People that had lives that needed tending to; jobs that needed to be done; families to protect. His thoughts had taken a somewhat darker turn after this and Soul decided that the TV wouldn't help. He clicked it shut and just stared at the dark screen, trying to sort out the pictures that were trying to force themselves into his brain. He shut his eyes, heart conflicted and delved into the dark crevices of his mind.

:SOUL:EATER:

"And of course, we both know that Wes is a better musician. You can't play half as well as he can."

Soul opened an eye at the little troll that danced on the ground, his words trying to cause disruption in Soul's soul. "Are you done yet? I just wanted a little sleep, you know? It's not cool that you keep doing this." The chill in the Black Room was palpable.

"Come on, Soul, you know me well enough by now. I'm using every opportunity I have."

"Understandable. I might do the same in your position," a devious smirk appeared on the weapon's face, "NOT."

"Don't be like that, Soul," the troll's grin grew wide, "Let go of all that anxiety in your heart."

"Anxiety? Please, that sounds so uncool. Maka would be disappointed if I ever felt that. Especially in this situation."

"Ah yes, Maka Albarn; daughter of Spirit and Kami, one of the best teams ever created through the DWMA."

"How would you know that?"

"Oh, Soul, I know what you know. And we both know that she's far too good for you." The little troll spoke with a kind of reckless abandon that creeped Soul out. It had switched the topic with such ease!

"Wait, what?"

"She deserves so much better. You know that you'd never be a Death Scythe without her. And she's out there, right now, alone because you were too lazy to go with her."

"Just because I didn't want to go doesn't mean I don't care about her." Soul was getting defensive, not a good sign for him. He had to keep his cool and stay calm or else the troll would take advantage of it. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his blood so that he became more calm but the troll kept talking, it's voice teasing and sharp.

"Oh, you care about her? Please, Maka Albarn is out grocery shopping. Alone. In the middle of a snow storm. How is that showing that you care?"

"Middle of-"

"You've been sleeping so long that you haven't even noticed that it's been snowing. Badly."

"WHAT?"

:SOUL:EATER:

Soul's eyes were wide and frightened, red orbs flying to the window. Part of him prayed that he wouldn't see the flurry of white through the window, prayed that the snow wasn't covering half his window.

But when had praying ever done him any good?

"Calm down, Soul," he told himself, his voice soft and insistent, "she's fine. She's just...just caught in a storm. Maka is fine. She's not...not hurt. It's fine." Soul glanced at his cell phone that lay on the coffee table beside the couch. One call wouldn't hurt, right?

He pressed her cell number into his phone and soon he could hear a dial-up. "Please pick-up, please pick-up, please pick-up." The words that had started out as a wish became a chant as the ringing continued, mindlessly droning on.

She's not picking up for you. Soul froze as the thought crept into his head. She's not going to pick up. She's out there. Somewhere. Alone. Soul threw a fearful glance at the window. That's right, out there. In the snow. And she'll freeze. You saw what she had on this morning. He did remember. Her regular uniform wasn't going to cut it in the middle of November. What had she been thinking?

Soul ended the call and tried again, breathing in deeply in an attempt to calm himself, "She's fine. She'll pick-up. She's just busy, that's all." Despite his desperate attempts to reassure himself, Maka didn't pick-up the phone.

He glanced at the window again. The snow certainly had piled up high on account of their window sill. Soul could see his reflection in the glass; he had bags under his eyes, which wasn't so unusual, but this time his crimson eyes were filled with a familiar mixture; a blend of fear, panic, and guilt; the eyes that he had had when he had watched Arachne immobilize his meister with the flick of her wrist.

He glanced over at the television and the dull buzz calmed him down. But not totally. Maka wasn't in danger. She wasn't going to freeze to death. She was probably waiting the storm out in a shop with a dead phone with absolutely no money to use a pay phone and let him know she was okay.

And that sounded logical, right?

Soul stared at the time that blinked on the oven. 1:45. He decided that he'd wait till 2 o'clock and, if she wasn't home by then, he'd look for her.

So he waited and watched more basketball.

He glanced at the clock.

1:47.

He frowned and went back to watching basketball.

He took another look.

1:50.

Soul gave an impatient huff and turned on his side, flipping through channels without really paying too much attention to the contents. The screen revealed very little to Soul that caused him to listen or want to listen. "The score is now...CLICK...And this new chair helps alleviate back...CLICK...'you're telling me that we can't do the skit?' 'I said it sucked, not that we weren't doing it.'...CLICK...the storm is coming in swiftly with a new rush of snow. The majority of people are now caught in it and government protection is trying to clear it up." Soul sat up on the sofa and turned up the volume, ears strained for the news. "The storm started at about two hours ago and it is still unknown what has started it. There were no clouds in the sky until about 30 minutes before the storm started. It is something completely unknown to Nevada residents and many are wondering if there is more to this storm than meets the eye."

The first thing that came to Soul's mind was Kishin. Could the snow storm be caused by the Kishin? It rarely snowed in Nevada, and even when it did, Death City never had it this bad. The area of land Death City was nestled in was a place where people rarely went, somewhere near the mountains so that it would still get a taste of the frozen snow.

Sometimes Soul missed the snow. He'd used to live in a city that had heavy snow every winter. Creating snowmen and replicas of household items had helped him pass the time. It was something his family rarely did, and, at the time, it had meant that he should do it all the more. Still, after living in Death City for the longest time, he'd somewhat gotten used to the great difference in snowfall.

With the snow thick and threatening to overwhelm him, he felt sick; sickened at the irony of the situation. The snow felt like comfort and home. Yet, out in that storm, Maka was probably struggling to make it back, and she was the closest thing to home he had ever known.

Soul suddenly had the urge to call Black*Star. He wasn't sure why, but as he dialed, his purpose slowly became clear. If Maka had gotten stuck in the storm, she would have called him. Still, if her pride was too big and she refused to ask for help from him, she'd call Tsubaki. However, if she didn't do either Soul was sure that she was trying to make it through herself.

And then there was the possibility that Maka would be even more stubborn and try to make it home on her own without any help. Soul thought that this last option was more probable than the others. Maka had pride, more pride than she should have. And she hated relying on people, especially men.

Soul ran a hand through his hair. He was totally unsure of what to do.

"Hello?" Soul jumped at the sound before realizing that it was just the phone.

"Hi, is Black*Star there?"

"Nope, sorry, Soul," said Tsubaki, her voice light and soft over the phone, "What's the matter? I can take a message if you want."

"No, no, it's oka-" he paused before continuing, "Know what? Can I ask you something instead?"

"Certainly," Tsubaki sounded surprised, "What do you need to ask?"

"Has Maka called you?"

"Wha- Maka? No, not since yesterday. Why, is something wrong?" Her voice had gone from surprised to worry for Maka's safety.

"No," he said hurriedly, "I was just wondering if she called you."

"It's alright, Soul, I know you're worried."

"Who said I was-"

"You'll find her. Good luck."

"But I didn't eve-"

"Bye, Soul." She hung up. Unbelievable. Tsuabaki, the kindest person he knew had just hung up on him. And for what? To tell him that he was worried. He wasn't worried about her.

Soul sat back down into the sofa, staring at the coffee table. He wasn't worried about her. Liar. He took a deep breath. Then another. Then another.

This breathing-to-help-you-calm-down thing wasn't working very well.

Worried... he'd felt worried about her. Worried about her safety and her well-being. Worried that she wasn't safe. Worried that he had failed to protect her.

So I am worried, he thought grimly, well, might as well fix it the only way I know how. If there was one thing Soul had learned with Maka was that he had to face his fears. That was the only way he could get over them.

With an exhausted sigh, and with Maka in mind, Soul tugged on a winter jacket that he had stuffed in the back of his closet. Wes had thought him stupid for bringing a winter coat to Nevada.

In your face, nii-san, he thought roughly as he left the comfort of his home.

:SOUL:EATER:

It was uncharacteristically cold. Soul had never felt the kind of freeze that he felt now. The stray snowflakes whipped past his face, slapping his face with freezing intent. He struggled through them, hiding in near-by shops to escape the burn momentarily. At each stop, he asked them for Maka, only to get the same disheartening response. No.

Soul continued his search throughout Death City and, by the time he reached the 3rd block, he felt pretty accomplished. However, that didn't change the fact that Maka was still missing.

He kept switching stops, giving each one a thorough search for Maka. And while each one had come up successful, none of them had made him want to hit himself more when he went into the one shop that he should never had stepped foot in.

In fact, Soul knew full well never to walk into the shop because Maka would never forgive him if he did, however he'd needed to check everywhere and, honestly, Soul wasn't really paying attention to the signs outside the shops.

And that was a big mistake.

Needless to say, the shop he had gone into was none other than a club. The club. The club that ran day in and day out, filled with mindless, horny, sex driven perverts that needed to have a little 'fun'. Mindless, horny, sex driven perverts like Maka's father.

And while a part of Soul (a very miniscule part) always hated calling his meister's father something like that, he knew that Spirit deserved it. He deserved all the punishment he got for his frivolous behavior. Every last piece of it.

However, that still didn't erase the fact that he went into the shop and that he regretted it and that, of course, Spirit saw him.

"SOUL EATER!" Soul was completely ready to dash back out into the snow filled streets but Spirit had him by the collar. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question, Death Scythe," said Soul coldly, "I thought you said you were gonna win Maka back. To be honest, it doesn't even look like you're trying."

"Don't turn this on me, Soul Eater Evans," he put in Soul's birth name just to annoy him, "You're the one who walked in here."

"Well, I was leaving." Soul tried to break free from Spirit's grasp but the man was too strong.

"Don't lie. You came in here for the girls, didn't you?" Spirit's face was directly over his, his breath wafting over Soul's face.

"Look, Death Scythe, I don't really care about the girls in the joint," he looked over to the women on the sofa and added, "No offense."

"None taken, Soul-kun," they giggled together.

Soul's attention returned to Spirit, "I'm just looking for one." His ruby eyes were determined and clear, devoid of doubts.

"One, huh?" Spirit's eyes narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "And who is this girl? Because she is clearly not my Maka."

"Your Maka? Give me a break," Soul turned his head to the side and stared vehemently at the window, "Are we done yet? I have a girl to look for."

"It is Maka," Spirit's voice was incredulous, "That's so good," his voice was kind but then it retained it's protective fatherly touch quickly. "Why is she missing?"

"She just went out."

"And you left her alone?"

"Cut it out, it wasn't my fault."

"How is it not your fault that my little girl is missing?"

"She's not missing," said Soul hotly, "I just can't find her."

"Uh-huh," Spirit let go of Soul and gave him a sour look, "If that's not missing then I don't know what is."

"I don't really care what you think right now," Soul pushed the door open, "And I really doubt Maka's here right now. Later."

"Wait, Soul-" Soul glared at Spirit, "When you find her, call me, okay?"

Soul rolled his eyes, "You may be a frivolous father but at least you care about your daughter." Spirit gave him a hopeful look, "I'll have her home by the end of the day. I won't call you." Spirit's face fell but Soul couldn't care less. He had wasted precious time at that club.

Once again the cold assaulted his face. It made him want to turn back, but he didn't. He had to find her before the Kishin tried to attack her. He had to ascertain her safety.

He entered another shop, this one a cafe of sorts. He noticed Kim and Jacqueline sitting at one of the tables and walked up to them, "Hey guys."

"Hi, Soul," said Kim, grinning, "Where's Maka?"

"That's what I came over to ask. Have you seen her?"

"She's missing? At a time like this?"

"Exactly. If you see her, give me a call, OK?"

The two friends nodded and Soul was on his way once more. He stepped out of the store and did something different. He stood still. Soul stood perfectly still, opening his Soul to anybody in the vicinity, trying to locate Maka's wave length. He found a glimmer of it on the block over and ran towards the area, hopeful.

He turned a corner only to slam into someone. Their head hit his cheekbone and Soul was certain that he'd have a bruise. "Soul!" Even though the person was on the ground and waist deep in snow, Soul recognized the voice.

Hell, he could recognize that voice anywhere. "Maka!" he lent a hand and pulled her to her feet. Maka tried to brush the snow off her bottom, "Where have you been?"

"Well, I was waiting inside the-"

"Did it even occur to you that you should call me? To let me know that you weren't freezing to death in the streets?" His hands were on her shoulders, shaking slightly.

"I'm sorry, Soul," her voice was quiet, guilty. She should feel bad, thought Soul, after what she did…did she even care about what happened?

"Geez," he gave her a quick hug before letting her go and staring into her eyes, "Think before you act, okay?"

Maka blinked a few times, confused, before nodding. Soul sighed and scratched his head, "Honestly, what am I going to do with such a useless meister?"

"Useless?" her eyes flared angrily but Soul just smirked.

"So, where did you say you were waiting?"

"I was waiting in Death Market. It said that it started to snow uncontrollably so I decided to try and wait it out. Most of the residents didn't think anything of it but," Maka pursed her lips, "I knew it just couldn't be natural. I planned to call you but my phone died." She smiled sheepishly, "Sorry."

Soul grinned. "It's fine. I figured that was the case."

"Then why did you freak out?"

His face twitched, "If I went off the radar and you couldn't contact me at all, would you be…worried?"

"Of course." No hesitation. Soul laughed a little to himself. "Oh…I'm sorry, Soul."

"I know." Maka looked at him, annoyed now, "So, what say you to kicking some Kishin egg butt?"

"Why are you sure it's a Kishin egg?"

"Because I'm cool like that and Kim thinks so too. Plus, I think there's a witch out there. Kishin eggs are a distinct possibility but I think the weather change is due to a witch that is controlling them. So what do you think?" He put out a hand, "Sound like a plan?"

"Yep." Maka shook her hand and Soul transformed into a Death Scythe, sleek and light enough for Maka to hold. "Uh, Soul? You left your jacket behind." She picked it up, holding it to her scythe.

Duh, he thought but he didn't say that. "Put it on. It'll keep you warm. Your current clothes aren't helping much, are they?"

"Well, no but…but won't you be cold?"

Soul chuckled, "I'm a Death Scythe now. I don't need jacket like that when I'm like this. I don't get cold. Come on, Maka, wearing that kind of jacket when I go into my weapon mode? It's not cool."

"Right. Sorry." Maka closed her eyes and clenched her hands. Soul felt a flash of warmth from her gloves on the metal before it dulled and became like flame. He had lied, of course. The cold still affected him, no matter the state he was in; weapon or otherwise. He gritted his teeth and waited; waited for his meister, as he would always do, to make the first move.

"Ready, Soul?" Maka had slipped on Soul's jacket, it's sleeves coming past her wrists to the point of almost covering her hands.

"I'm always ready. You just take too long."

Maka smirked and then, together, they resonated. It didn't take long. Soul felt himself become warmer and stronger as rushes of Maka's wavelength flowed towards him. Soon enough, they were combined. They were practically one giant mass of soul.

"Let's do this."

"Roger that." Maka launched herself into the sky, skimming through the sky with a kind slight gracefulness that she always had. Keeping Soul tucked to her side, Maka traveled on top of the houses, trying to ignore the snow slapping her face.

done this part
this fic is a two shot so please endure another 1606 words. Thank you [:

please R&R