The first in a collection of oneshots and short bits 'n' bobs for rainy days.
Please don't take any of these as indications of writing ability!
Maka looks around at her motley crew of friends, gathered round by the pool. On the outside, full of smiles and laughs.
Black Star; shouting some crap about how he's going to do the most fantastic and awe-inspiring dive into the pool, and blow all their stupid attempts out the water. Maybe literally. Maka eyes up his arms, his chest. He's bulked out significantly since they were just 13, but his mind doesn't seem to have matured at the same rate that his body has. Now 18 and the second youngest of the group, his voice only seems maybe one, maybe two keys lower than it was 5 years ago.
He seems full of life but he's obviously faking it. His eyes constantly flit over to Tsubaki, as if checking she's still there; she's still safe.
Look hard enough and you'll see it.
And Tsubaki, the great beauty, her long Japanese hair tied up in a bun with those traditional sticks- Maka forgets what they're called- and a pretty glaring white bikini which shows off her porcelain skin and gorgeous figure.
Her eyes have crinkles at the edges where she's smiling adoringly, as usual, at her partner in crime. She's the only one who could love Black*Star, Maka thinks to herself. The worlds biggest tragic irony that he wasn't emotionally capable of loving her back in the same way.
Look a little more carefully and you can see the marks on her wrists and ankles which distinctly form the shapes of chains. Her last mission with Black*Star ended with her being shackled and tortured.
Liz and Patty splash around in the pool causing a scene together, while Kid stretches out on the sun lounger and appears to try to catch a tan. The two sisters look beautiful as always, Liz tall and perky in a red one-piece. Patty is curvy and voluptuous in a purple bikini. Maka stares and notices how Liz and Patty are standing closely to each other, more so than usual. And they're even going easy on each other with the splashing- clearly, they're still a little shaken by their last mission. And then Kid's wearing a cap, trying to cover the newly instated lines on his head. He's not ready to accept what they represent.
The Death of Death himself and the extension of his all his rights and responsibilities to his only-yet-20-year-old son.
"People-watching?" Soul catches her out.
She jumps, and then sighs, and wanders over next to him. He's not in the pool and hasn't been since they got here. Instead he's sitting to the side of the pool reading, with a long-sleeve t-shirt on.
"It's my favorite pastime." She smiles lightly. "And my greatest weakness. I'm a snoop." She grins at him, her face crinkling up endearingly.
"Hah! You wish." Soul chuckles. "Why so serious?" he wonders, closing his book slightly and lifting his gaze "Or did you forget I can basically read your mood," he smirks as he references their soul bond.
Soul's gotten good at hiding his wavelength from Maka lately; a skill that she still doesn't possess. They've been in a lot of extra classes with Stein recently, trying to learn the skill of separating their waves. Sometimes carrying the emotional burden of two just seemed too much to handle.
"How could I forget?" she shrugs. "Everyone seems to be just… faking it. Like our last mission didn't affect them all. I don't really get it."
"Isn't that what we always do?"
"I guess. But… everything we just went through. We're growing up, and it's getting more serious. More life-or-death. I guess I just feel like we're a hair's breadth away from everyone just having a breakdown." Maka sighs heavily. "I'm worried about them all." She motions vaguely to her group of friends.
"No point worrying." Soul's gaze and attention slides back to his book on his lap. Maka peeks over to see what he's reading and sees a bunch of words in French.
"What the hell…?"
"The author is Quebecois," he says softly. Maka pokes him in the head.
"Sometimes I forget you're secretly as nerdy as me."
"I just had years of private French tutoring. My family were rich. It doesn't make me nerdy." He hits back, a little defensively. "Besides, I have nothing to do except catch up on my language skills." He adds, injecting a hint of misery into his tone.
"You could try getting in the pool." She suggests, but she receives such an angry look that she immediately drops this idea. "Can I at least see how it's doing? I think it's time to put some cream on. Let me help you,"
He bristles.
"If we go inside."
"Honestly, Soul, they're your friends, they don't care-"
"Inside." He says again, firmly. He shuts his book with a crack and glares at her.
She rolls her eyes and drags him inside the house. Kid shoots them both a look from under his cap but Maka just gives him a thumbs-up. Kid nods, understanding.
"Whew! It's a lot cooler in here," she comments. "Kid's taste in art sure is weird," she laughs, staring down a sculpture of an ivory naked woman with a dragon head.
"Philistine." Soul rolls his eyes. "C'mon then, let's get this over with." He reaches to the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head.
Maka's eyes stay peeled. Soul's another one who's definitely hit puberty like a truck going at 50mph. Though not as beefy as Black*Star, he has definite muscle tone carved over his thin frame. Wisps of white hairs on his chest cause her to blush a little.
And there's the burn marks which carve out his back in an intricate, excruciating design- extending from each elbow to halfway up his neck and a little past his waistline. As Stein told the both of them at the hospital last month- some scars never did heal.
It's scabbed over now, thank God.
His expression is cold and lifeless as he feels her eyes prick needles all over him.
"I look like a chicken nugget." He tells her flippantly. She accidentally snorts at that frank comparison, and then shoots him an apologetic look at her outburst.
"You look like a burn victim." She says matter-of-factly, squeezing a dollop of special cream onto her finger and beginning to rub it in gently. It obviously hurts but he tries his best not to react. "You can complain, y'know. Your pride will be the death of you."
Still, she knows he doesn't like to.
She finishes applying the cream with a 'voila' and stands back to admire her work. He steps in front of the full length mirror in the hallway and sinks.
"I can't stand looking like this." He touches some of his burnt-up skin with a scowl. "Like I belong in a Frankenstein comic."
Maka doesn't respond straightaway- just purses her lips.
"You don't-"
"I don't? Really? This stupid albino hair, these stupid teeth. The scar, the scrapes, and now this huge burn mark." He lists, sounding dejected. "I'm just getting worse and worse. I'm only twenty, Maka. Imagine how much of a freak I'll be when I'm 50."
She doesn't like this, when he bemoans the way he looks. Despite being quite unusually good-looking, it was a slightly sensitive topic these days.
"If you're such a freak, then why do half the girls at school want to jump your bones?" she raises an eyebrow.
"They, unlike you, have never seen me topless." He cuts back.
"I think it would only increase your fanbase if they had." Maka tries to make light of the situation, with a little chuckle and a tease at his expense. "C'mon, Soul," she appeals to him. "Let's not-"
"Those stupid girls just want to save me." He growls, joking but a little bitterly.
He looks in the mirror again and against her better judgement, she finds herself standing close up next to him. "If we weren't partners, you'd be freaked out by me." He states bluntly, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
"If we weren't partners, I'd probably want to date you." She retorts, stubbornly not moving from her position.
Soul finally breaks into a chuckle.
"Shut up." He shakes his head, effectively ending the discussion. "C'mon, I've deprived you of enough sun. Let's go back out."
"Only if you stop moping!"
