Chapter 1
The beginning of the day started like usual—waking up, the maid yelling into his room to wake up, getting up from bed, showering, looking through a huge wardrobe just for something to wear that was 'acceptable' before going downstairs, eating the fine cereal placed before him. He'd see his mother sitting at one end of the table while his dad was at the other. On his father's right was his older brother, and the seat to his father's left was reserved for himself.
"Soul, you look quite nice today," His mother commented, delicately using her fork to eat a small piece of strawberry off of her plate as Soul heard her slight British accent. "Is that Christian Dior? It looks delightful on you," The white haired woman told him, her hair done up in a French bun, two ringlets left on either side of her face.
"Thanks, mother," He told her, trying not to grit his teeth as he stuffed a piece of pancake into his mouth. He looked up, his ruby red eyes burning as he looked to his brother. All he did was shrug and take a bite of his own food, his own red eyes a more friendly copy of his younger brother's. His hair was another comparison, a striking white that they'd both inherited from their mother.
"It looks as if your grades are doing nicely, Soul," His father said—a very opposite version of his wife when it came to looks. His eyes were baby blue with a little bit of silver around the pupil, his hair a golden blonde cut short. Even at his older age, he had a full head of hair, his skin bare of wrinkles except for those around his eyes.
"I've been trying, father," Soul replied, this time with a little less anger in his eyes; his dad was only getting his mom off of the subject at hand.
"Wes, we've planned a concert this weekend, at which you'll be the main performance. Your brother will be playing before you, as an opening, along with one of the men you've performed with before—that Berkley gentleman, you remember, with an exceptional cello ability?" She asked of her oldest son, sipping her tea innocently enough.
"Well, I'll be going now," Soul said as he pushed his chair back—the scraping of the feet against the wooden floor intentional, his mother's flinch almost making him smile—before he picked up his book sack. Before his mother could say anything, he was out of the room and heading for the door to the garage.
Soul had parked in the parking lot once he got to school, pulling out a bag that he packed every night before he went to sleep. Packed inside his bag, it held clothes—stuff much more comfortable than the stuff he had to wear in front of his parents and family friends. Rarely he wore comfortable shorts or a t-shirt around the house, only when his favorite maids or butlers were around. Otherwise, it was semi-formal clothes that was worn as it was supposed to; no loosened collars or pants without belts. And god forbid he wear converse or cheap polo shoes.
He picked up the bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he pulled off the outer jacket—a hoodie, specially designed for him by his mother and some special fashion company—and headed towards the school building.
School didn't open until eight thirty on any day, but Soul was early; usually, he was early anyway. With him and his friends being early risers, they usually met here knowing that Soul would be there for a quick game of basketball that would end in some kind of bet. But today, he didn't want to worry about Blackstar's big mouth or Kid's OCD, not even Liz or Patti's cheer. Right now, he just wanted to be alone.
So he headed inside, using the little trick he and his friends knew worked on the second door from the right to get it to unlock. Then, it was to the boys' bathroom, where he quickly changed into a pair of aeropostale and a kind of tight fitting, orange American Eagle t-shirt with ruined print on it. And for shoes, it was his nice, comfortable pair of air max. Over his shirt he wore an old worn leather jacket, his black hair band finishing off the look. Once done, he headed to the middle of the huge school, stuffing his bag in his locker before going outside to the eating area.
Pulling out his iphone, he plugged in the nice set of headphones he'd been carrying with him, putting them on his head before pressing play on one of his favorite songs. And up the large oak tree in the middle of the eating area he went.
Somehow, he found himself asleep as he woke up from the sound of the bell, many people shuffling down below to get to class. But other than the last few, it was pretty deserted. So Soul reluctantly got up, taking off his large headphones and replacing them with earphones that would probably not upset the teachers as much as the headphones would. They usually let him slide if he used earphones, thankfully. Whenever he was passing with such good grades as him, they didn't usually care if he even skipped class altogether.
But since he'd missed most of his classes yesterday, he had to go. He'd already told himself that he should, no matter how the hell he was feeling in the morning. So here he was, walking in late to class as he heard the class murmuring the pledge while he was being followed by his teacher's hard glare. But he only sat down in his regular seat, next to Kid—a.k.a. the son of one of the biggest protection agencies in the country's owner; not to mention the son of the principal of the school. Then it was Blackstar, a kid with serious problems, such as the fact that ever since he'd taken one martial arts class in sixth grade, he'd begun going on and on about how he was going to surpass god.
Then came the tall girl with a taller black ponytail sitting next to the blue haired Blackstar, Tsubaki. The girl looked older than most of the girls in class—her bigger than most bust helped with that—and was the daughter of a kind of close family friend of Soul's family.
Then the older of the two Thompson sisters, Elizabeth 'Liz' Thompson. Her hair was a dusty blonde a little darker than her younger sister's, who wasn't even in the class, being a grade lower than all of them. But the two weren't exactly rich, like most of them, at least not directly. They'd run away from home when they were younger, but still they were sent supplies or clothes or money on a regular basis from their loving father. They had grown up with Soul as a kid, Liz becoming an older sister to both Patti, her little sister, and Soul.
Blackstar, while one of their best friends, was the strange one out of their group. While he was one of the key members of the many teens, he wasn't the kid of some influential business family nor did he have some huge inheritance that he would receive once he got older. And he wasn't at school because his parents were able to pay the huge tuition—actually, both of his parents were gone, both dead from suicide or in jail, no one really knew, not even his closest friends. The only reason he went there was because his guardian was a high ranking staff member at the school, who was close to the principal.
And the entire group was considered 'the group' of the Shibusen Academy of the Arts, the exclusive, expensive school that they attended.
"Well class, you know the drill. Twenty minute homeroom then head to your classes. Just stay quiet and it'll be good," Their teacher said, sitting down in his chair with a book in hand, diligently reading the new book of the day.
"So Soul, did you hear about the new girl that everyone was seeing in Lord Death's office?" Blackstar asked his white haired friend, referring to Kid's father who, hard to believe, really had the name Death. And because of his position, everyone called him Lord Death.
"What? Someone new at Shibusen? Don't we have every gifted person in a thousand mile radius living in the dorms?" Tsubaki asked her boyfriend—yes, they were going out—with confusion written on her face. "Kid, do you know anything about a new girl?" She asked Kid—who was fighting silently with Liz about the three white stripes on only half of his black hair, because they weren't symmetrical.
He composed himself quickly, straightening out the hair he'd been attempting to pull out his hair. "Actually, my father was telling me about the girl this morning—a prodigy, really, with the violin. Undiscovered talent, my father said about her, but kind of reserved from the meeting he had with the girl and her mother, who had to do it over Skype," Kid said, tightening the knot of his tie as his golden eyes turned to the asymmetrical Blackstar. Somehow, a fight started over his girlfriend's clothes, which was mainly about the different length socks.
"I wonder why we haven't seen her yet," Tsubaki said, completely ignoring her beau and friend to talk with Soul—who, at that point, really couldn't care less. "Most of the dorm kids are here earlier—well, not earlier than us," She amended herself, smiling sheepishly.
"Might be like most girls—can't get here without working on her hair for an hour," Soul said, his head lying with his earphone-free ear in the air.
"Hey, what do you mean by that runt?" Liz paused from calming down Kid to turn her attention to Soul, who was almost like her little brother since they'd grown up together. "Are you saying that all girls take an hour to do their hair? And is that an insult to womankind?"
"Nope. Most take more time than that. You take way more time than that. And before you say I'm wrong, remember that I wait on you almost every morning," Soul replied dryly, his red eyes looking up at his 'sister' with annoyance. "But back to the new girl; why's it such a big deal? She's just some rich girl who's probably here to skip over some big step on her way to fame. Bet she won't have much trouble here—record companies or managers are always looking for new meat when it comes to talent at the school my brother came from," Soul said hotly, picking up the attention of kid once again.
"Oh, I guess I left that out—she's a scholarship student, fully paid by my father with the condition that she's not allowed to leave the school due to partnerships, contracts, or managers for a certain amount of time—or else she pays all of the money my father gave her, in full. Which, even if she has money, would be a problem," Kid explained, causing most of the teenagers surrounding him to look at him with wide eyes. "What?"
"You knew about this in the first place and you didn't think to explain?" Soul asked his friend, rolling his eyes as his head laid back down on the desk. "Well, all I know is that I'm not even trying to get into that. I don't need any more fan girls; twenty thousand is enough."
"Is this Mr. Renard's class?" A quiet voice asked, her voice loud in the somewhat quiet room. But as soon as everyone heard her, they went silent as they turned to stare.
Soul, who was half asleep, didn't pick up his head, choosing to instead sleep away his curiosity. But once he felt Liz nudge his side rather roughly with her elbow, he looked up in annoyance, finding his eyes filled with the sight of a blonde.
The new girl was shorter than all of the girls in Soul's group, without a doubt, with blonde hair held up in twin pigtails and not an ounce of makeup on her face. But it wasn't her lack of makeup or hair color that caught Soul—it was her green eyes.
Her eyes were beautiful, a dark, mesmerizing shade that shined without tears in her eyes. And they reminded her of a cat's, somehow—not in shape of the overall eye or the pupil, but simply the color or the way they looked. No girl Soul had ever met had had eyes as intense as the girl before him. "Ah, Maka Albarn, correct? Just take a seat next to miss Nakatsukasa over there and, if you need help getting around school, mister Evans shares a music major; his class is close to yours."
She nodded, a small smile appearing on her face as she found sight of something on the teacher's desk. "That book is really good Mr. Renard. It's actually one of my favorites—although my list goes on and on," She said, only taking her seat after being praised by the teacher for reading, unlike many of her classmates.
Tsubaki, ever the nice and kind one, then turned away from her friends to speak to the girl—but was thrown off by her as she found her pulling out a book, this one much smaller than the teacher's. "Well, at least we know what she does with her time. Now, if any of you don't mind, I'm—" Soul began saying, his head getting closer and closer to the desk before the bell finally decided to ring.
Groaning, the white haired boy picked up his bag and got out of his seat, lazily walking towards the door; only to walk right into the new girl. He moaned as he found his stuff scattered across the floor, the girl's stuff still securely stuffed into her own black bag. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought that I could make it through the small space between you and the door, but I guess I was wrong, huh?" The girl asked, bending down to pick up Soul's books and everything else that tumbled out.
But he was still standing straight up, thrown for a loop with this girl. Did she have eyes? Or was she blind? Did she know who he was? Because he'd never met a straight girl—save Liz, Patti, and Tsubaki—that didn't do a double take when they saw him or try to flirt with him. It just didn't seem natural at that point of his life, after so many years of girls trying everything to go out with him.
After a minute of staring uselessly at the top of the girl's head, Soul finally crouched down to give her a hand. But surprisingly, she was already done, handing him everything in a neat pile. "Oh, my name's Maka, by the way—if Mr. Renard didn't make it obvious when I walked in. And you must be…?" She asked, causing him to shake his head, snapping him out of his stupor.
He extended his hand, taking hers to shake. "Uh, Soul Evans—but all of my friends call me Soul Eater," Soul replied, slight smile on his face.
"Oh, so you're the one Mr. Renard was telling me about. Well, if you wouldn't mind, could you show me the way to the violin classroom before the bell rings?" She asked, once again alerting Soul to the reason why he probably wouldn't like her. Violinists never really got along with him. "…because this place is unimaginably huge and the map didn't even begin helping me find my way. You don't mind, right?" Maka asked, large green eyes looking up at him with no flirtatious sparkle or conniving look to the otherwise perfect green.
"Sure," He said, surprising even himself—much less his friends that he knew were watching from the hallway, probably waiting for him. So when he began walking with the girl, it wasn't only him that was stunned. All of his friends were too, their eyes wide and mouths agape as they watched their friend walk away with a girl. The first girl he'd said more than five words to since he'd met his friends.
Maybe violinists weren't so bad after all.
A/N: I don't know if I should make this into a fanfic or a series of oneshots. Because either way, there are going to be other parts including violinist Maka (who, by the way, only plays music to make her mother happy, not because she feels the emotion in it) and popular Soul. But with oneshots, I'll be taking ideas or prompts for help.
So if you want one-shots, give me what you want as the main prompt or idea. But if more people want this to be a fic, this will become a ten to fifteen length (supposedly) story.
