A/N: Hi, this is my first post on FF. :) This idea actually sprouted from a dream I had a few days ago, and I figured Soul Eater would be a perfect fit. I'm not going to address Crona as either male or female, and although it is not technically correct, I will refer to Crona as they/them. I'm very sorry if you don't agree with it, but please try not to base your opinion of my story on that. Thank you. The SE gang is going all detective-y in this, because I love them so much, and I feel as though they'd be brilliant at it. This is pre-Kishin, and anime-based. Again, Sorry!
A woman of a coral complexion and hair the same coloring of straight up, black coffee, lay peacefully amongst the mounds of pillows her father paid for. Windows open for a pleasant breeze, door closed to ward off any musings of her drunken parents and their colleagues. She slept soundly, the nippy wind only tickling the nose that took up a significant amount of limited face space. She'd say that she couldn't help the way she was born, simply put.
Though the apparition whom's being seeped along with the gusts of Death City's air, and into the female's grand bedroom, could not care any less than it did now. The phantom had a one-track mind.
Kill to eat. Eat to survive. Survive to continue killing.
Without a real soul or the morals that supposedly come with it, nothing emotionally restraining had the ability to stop it. The specter wrapped its massive digits around the unsuspecting daughter's neck, strangling her soul until it screeched for oxygen without a helpful response. The ominous, translucent figure was satiated, and another body parted with its soul before death.
"I heard it's a ghost," Tsubaki inputted politely, within the aggravated debates of her friends.
"No, it can't be. Ghosts don't exist, Tsubaki. Don't be a moron." Black*Star choked out his insult between sputters of laughter, leaving the busty girl with an onyx ponytail sighing, of disappointment.
"Either way," Soul utters between large bites of an overstuffed sandwich and swigs of cola. "We have to kick its ass, and soon. People can't keep dying because of this… this thing. Whatever it is."
The pigtailed teen kept her nose within the third book she'd picked up this week, before mumbling out a few words in contribution. "But the information provided is so vague. Some sort of, ah, a poltergeist, is asphyxiating the souls out of its victims? I've never heard of anything like it."
"Stop using big words, Maka, you know Black*Star can't comprehend any of them."
"Soul... How could you betray me like that?" The 'ninja' jutted out his upper lip, and piled another handful of chips into his mouth.
The scene was all too familiar – and it was just that which made Maka uneasy. The whole string of serial murders was unsettling and struck her heart with palpitations unlike any others she'd experienced. Naturally, Crona was in the same state. Not that they'd pipe up about it, however. It was easily readable for Maka. She naturally obtained these cues on the introverted meister's feelings; if she hadn't already been Soul's meister, and Crona coincidentally was a weapon, she figured they'd make a perfect pair. But none of these conditions were applicable to their situation. So they remained friends, instead. And that's how it would always remain.
"I see the group has started their lunch without us. Liz, Patty, sit down. I'll sit in the middle so we can preserve our symmetry." The suited young man with Senzu lines gestured to his female companions to seat themselves accordingly, but they refused to comply – and merely sat wherever they felt satisfactory. Kid was inclined to make a fuss, although with the current state of events he held back his strong compulsions for the time being.
"This, er, Revas fellow my father spoke of this morning; the serial killer – have we any ideas of a modus operandi? Does it go after a certain type of soul?"
"We haven't been able to tell. It really just looks like it feeds on anything it can get its hands on."
'Hands. Does it even have hands?' Maka grew disgusted with her own thinking, and shook the disturbing thoughts. It certainly was possible.
"Maka. Earth to Maka. Could you shut your book for a moment, and pay a little more attention. Lives are at stake, y'know. We can't fool around." Her weapon patted her radically tapping fingers until they flattened into a regular palm.
"Y-Yeah, I know. Sorry." Maka sheepishly shut her novel with her pinky inside, both having forgotten a bookmark and not wanting to damage the pages in anyway. The struggle was undeniable for the bookworm. The fact that the very life of a person depended on the group was enough to make her want to vomit. Not that they were incapable – it was the fact that someone had genuinely trusted them with this task that made Maka cringe with uncertainty.
"These..." Crona mumbled with an index finger stretched towards the locations of each murder, "They're all so different. How did this guy manage to get to all those places so fast?"
"That's a great point, Crona!" Black*Star said with undeniable enthusiasm, startling everyone at the table, especially Crona.
"Thanks," Crona sunk into their shoulders, flushing ever so slightly at the compliment. "I'm just trying to help."
"Well you sure did," Liz fingered a strand of her honey blonde locks, pursing her lips before offering her own suggestion. "Maybe it flies? It definitely can't walk that quick without running into buildings or anything."
"You're right! It'd be next to impossible to get around that swift unless it can walk through buildings." Maka brightened with the new addition to their knowledge, and stood from her seat at the cafeteria table, the vivid rays of sunlight pouring into her skin that hadn't been covered in her uniform. "Let's do some investigating. Kid, you can scout the paths available by air with your skateboard, right? And the rest of us can go by foot."
The gang nodded along with Maka's plan of action with tiny side conversations, and after their midday meal was finished, they embarked on their expedition throughout the streets and alleys of Death City.
The flare of light that once provided the clique with sun to bask in had began to set, and left them empty-handed and discouraged. There were no peculiarities about the scenes of the crime that could be identified by the teens at first glance – which only gave them more reason to give up and retire for the ending day. Maka wouldn't have that. With how evenly the deaths were spaced out, and how each person died, another was bound to occur tonight. It was inevitable, and only fueled the meister with more drive to search the city for the perpetrator. If it went on any longer without a solution... Another kishin could be born.
Patty waved her hands widely to signal Maka and Soul, whilst running from a distance. They probably wanted to go home for the night. She didn't blame them.
"Well, any luck with the skies?" Soul was the first to pipe up as the Death trio approached, and Kid shook his head, dismal.
"Nothing out of the ordinary. They're the same routes I'd use for getting around the city. Or rather, anyone's routes. Maybe an outside opinion is necessary."
"We can't involve the public, that's insane! People will start going nuts and never leave the house."
Death the Kid pressed his lips into a firm crease, as if thinking too hard. "Is that really a bad thing?"
"Ugh..." Maka pressed her thumbs into her forehead. "Yes. Panic is always bad. I don't like being scared, I'm certain that nobody else enjoys it, either.
"Enough whining, let's just go home. I'm tired." Soul took this opportunity of uncomfortable silence to butt in, Liz and Patty nodding along with his statement.
"Yeah Kid, this isn't getting us anywhere. It's almost dark out and we haven't got anything, let's just sleep on it and do more in the morning." Liz rested a hand on her hip, and leaned to one side.
Was Maka the only one who cared about this? Was she the only one who saw the severity of another person's life?
"Whatever. You guys can go home," Maka waved her palm off to her lazy comrades. Tsubaki and Black*Star were probably already cooking dinner by now. They didn't care as much, it seemed.
Patty threw her fist up with glee and shouted with excitement as the pistols transformed and Kid flew off on Beelzebub with them in tow. "See you in the morning, we'll figure this out! Don't worry!" Death exclaimed and zoomed towards home, once again leaving Soul and Maka in their lonesome.
"Hey, Soul..." Maka glanced at her partner, whom's fists were shoved in his pockets, as he stared into, really, nothing. How he could do that was shocking to her. "Do you think we'll be able to find the killer? Be serious."
"Mm, yeah, we will. It'll just take some time. Don't stress about it."
"But there are lives at stake, just like you said at lunch today. Aren't you worried?"
He grunted in reply to her, which Maka despised greatly. He then chose to speak. "Yeah, but it isn't our fault if it happens. We're doing what we can, alright? We aren't the saviors of the universe, as cool as that sounds. Shit happens."
Maka rolled this over in her mind, and as much as she could fake it, she couldn't bring herself to believe it. "You're right. Let's just go home."
And so they did.
After a hearty meal and shower, Soul was knocked out at ten PM. It was unfortunate, really, as Maka would've wanted to bring him along, but her white-haired friend was unlikely to want to go along with her plan. So with the sharpest knife in their teeny kitchen apartment and her Soul Perception, Maka was off to solve this mystery on her own.