I don't claim to own Soul Eater. Duh. I would be rich if I did. Pft.

This is a mixture of the Soul Eater anime, the manga, and my own imagination. Deal with it.

Body and Soul

Chapter One

Fading Dreams

The grand piano stretched out before him, the dark wood glinting in the pale light illuminating the small room. The black and white checkered floor glared angrily against the white wash walls, and among all of the white and black chaotic mess, he sits quietly upon the piano bench, shoulders hunched as his elbows rest on his thighs, hands hanging between his parted legs.

The black suit jacket he wears fits him perfectly, outlining his torso's definition, grown since so long ago. Has it really been that long? He lifts his chin a bit, messy silver locks falling against his cheeks and flirting with the sharp angle of his jaw. Yes. To him, it had been so very long. Too long.

Slowly he brings his forearms away from his thighs, slender digits stretching out wide before hovering above the ivory keys that beckon to him, call to him in eager anticipation. What he offers when his fingers finally dance across the keys is a slow tune, almost sad.

The haunting tune is called out fluidly by his fingertips, starting slow but ending up an entrancing beat that calls forth the depression in ones soul.

Why? Where? All are questions that he wanted to have answers to. Would the pain ever ease? How come that one person is all he can think about, day and night?

Would she ever come back? Is she even able to come back? Is she even alive? Of course her father didn't have any of the answers either. Their emotional ties to each other were usually ones of resentment. Well, on her end anyways.

It isn't fair. It isn't right. Why?

Why?

…Why?

He continues this for a few minutes, eyes closed, before suddenly he stops his hands, hitting out of tune keys, fingers keeping them pressed down as he opens his eyes slowly.

Why?

Red glares out at the keys, suddenly hostile and without an ounce of sadness there to hint he had the emotion at all. Within him the anger builds, with nothing there to stop it. So, his song changes as well. Fingers lift as his lips curl upwards in a wicked smile, revealing razor sharp teeth bared to the world in a vicious grin.

And so the song begins, striking out, lashing at the very heart. His surroundings flare red, to match the burgundy of his shirt, a slightly psychotic chuckle starting up in the back of his throat. Yes, this is how it should be. This is what he had been missing.

She had left him, for no reason at all. She had left him, she had left them all, and he had hurt. He had been depressed, he had been crushed. But no. Not anymore. He refused to feel those emotions anymore. His music continues, growing darker, growing angrier.

All the while, his mind delves further into its current state. Why had he waited this long? Why did he care for this long? Abandoned. That's what she had done. She had abandoned him, abandoned them, after everything. After the big battle. After he had risked his all for her.

And oh, how he hates her for it. Hates. Despises with every bone in his bo-

"Soul."

Red eyes narrow. Who the hell could be interrupting him? No one ever knows where he is when he goes to play the piano.

"Soo-ooul."

What the fuck. That annoying, familiar voice. But what is he doing in-

"SOUL!"

And with that, the white haired weapon jerks awake from his rather disturbing dream, sitting up too fast and smacking his head against something incredibly hard. He recoils immediately, sucking air in through his teeth and one hand moves up to wrap over his stinging forehead even as he half squints through slightly watery eyes at the offending 'hard thing.'

"Why are you in my room?" The words are a mere growl, guttural and husky with the thickness of the throat that comes only from trying to speak first thing in the morning. There is a moment where nothing is said and then, the blue haired green eyed devil decides he finds the situation all too amusing and bursts out laughing even as he staggers back upright on his feet with a large grin plastered over his face.

Though Black Star had kept his personality intact, the years have done wonders on his physical appearance. Although his hair has remained wild and the top resembling that of the top of a star, stray locks constantly fall over his forehead and lay against the bridge of his nose. The most noticeable difference is his height. No longer one of the shortest, but still a bit lacking, his slender form is nearly perfected. This is evident from every line cutting a path between each and every muscle in his body.

Wide chest is swathed in the ever sleeveless white shirt sporting a white scarf neatly wrapped around his throat, the hem of the shirt tucked into the waist of his blue pants, which is interrupted by a belt like sash slanted horizontally over his hips. Pants legs are rolled up to his ankles, white shoes a far cry from the old steel toed boots, and gloves have been replaced by white bandages wrapped from his fingers to just below his elbows.

"Dude, it's past twelve. Shouldn't you be training or working or something?" One eyebrow hitches up as his laughter dies with those words and Black Star crosses his scarred over his muscled chest, waiting for an answer.

Instead, Soul sighs and rolls out of bed, allowing the sheets to fall away from him and trail to the floor, leaving his nude body exposed. Black Star makes a disgusted noise and averts his eyes, his still too-childish sounding voice filtering in through one ear and out the other as Soul moves into his bathroom and closes the door.

"Can't you warn somebody before you do that, Soul? Jesus, it's not like I come over here wanting to see-"

"Fix some coffee." Blunt, emotionless, and to the point. Soul turns the water on to the sink and bows over it, cupping his hands before splashing water on his face. There is the sound of banging from his kitchen and he quickly brushes his teeth before moving back out to his room and throwing on his clothes.

More awake and considerably more approachable after having splashed cold water on his face, and with the smell of coffee brewing, he walks out into the living room with a sloppy smile, jagged teeth flashing as he holds up his palm, in which Black Star immediately high fives.

"That's more like it. Sheesh, I was starting to think I was going to have to do something drastic. No, but really, you shouldn't leave your front door unlocked if you don't want people just walking in."

Chatter box. Soul can't help but continue smiling, though. That's what helped Soul keep it together. If there is one person he can absolutely count on, it's Black Star.

He pours himself a cup of the steaming coffee, moving towards the small table and flopping down on a chair, blowing at the liquid in his hands while thinking to himself.

"What are you doing here again, Black Star? And don't give me that "I don't have a reason," crap. Just go ahead and say whatever it is.

There is another chuckle from Black Star as he settles down on the only other empty seat at the table, sprawling out haphazardly with that entirely too goofy grin on his face.

"You sure you don't want to try being partners again? Hell, you sure seem to know a lot about how I work." There is no pause for the words to sink in, or for an answer to be given, because he plows right into the next subject without even taking a breath.

"Spirit says Death needs to see you… something about a new mission? I didn't ask for the details, but I volunteered to come get you."

Silence, and then a sigh, again from Soul. He puts his half empty cup of coffee on the table and looks towards the window, narrowing his red eyes. "Spartoi again, huh? Well. Let's go then. Death isn't really patient."

….

Okaaay, so. I know this kinda came outta left field, but I really really really had a hankering for writing some Soul Eater FF, so here the first chapter is. So sue me, they are a bit out of character, but there are reasons for that. Don't like it? Why did you read it this far? Kthanx.