Maka stared up at the scoreboard outside the classroom. Professor Stein had given a major exam two days ago, and she'd been studying for days. Now the scores were posted:

Maka Albarn – 98

Right above that, in small, black, heart wrenching letter, was written:

Ox Ford – 99

She could hear his voice in her head, taunting her and waving his finger. "Now you'll know who the real top of the class is," it said. "You're not smart enough. You're not strong enough. You'll never be as great as your mother. You're not even-"

"Maka?" Soul's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "You okay?"

"Hm?" She blinked. "Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

Soul looked up at the scoreboard. Noticing the top two lines, he shrugged. "Ah, don't worry about him. You'll beat that loser Ox next time. He probably cheated, anyway." He grinned and pointed near the bottom of the list. "At least you beat me. I got a 64."

A smile crept back onto Maka's face. "Yeah, well, that's not exactly hard to do."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Let's get out of here before Black Star sees and flips out. He actually passed, for once."

Maka winced. "Good idea." They began to head down the hall. As they descended down the stairs, they heard above them a distant "YAHOO!"

On the way home, Maka was thinking about the exam. What did I get wrong? she thought. She mentally flipped through her meticulously-taken notes, trying to remember what she had forgotten. Unfortunately, she wasn't looking at the ground and completely missed the first step of the small stair leading to the apartment complex. Gravity took over, and she tumbled earthward, her bag and books flying everywhere.

"Maka! You okay?" Soul asked, helping her to her feet.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, straightening her ruffled jacket. "I just scraped my knee a little. I'll take care of it later." She gathered her things quickly.

Soul frowned. "You need to watch where you're going, or you're gonna break your leg someday, and then where will I be?" He handed her a book he'd picked up.

"Thanks." They trudged up to their apartment (Maka with a barely detectable limp). It was noticeably quiet when they opened the door.

"Where's Blair?" Soul wondered aloud. "Maybe she finally ran away, like a real cat."

"Don't be so hopeful," Maka said. "She's probably out shopping or something." She hung up her jacket and set her schoolbag on a chair.

"Dang. Or maybe she got her job back at that place your dad's always hanging out," Soul said with a snicker. "She's well enough… endowed for it."

He glanced at Maka. She was frowning. Bad topic, he thought. Better change the subject. Help came in the form of a brightly-colored postcard buried in the day's mail.

"Your mail's in," he said, tossing to her shuriken-style. She caught it, and a smile lit up her face. "That should perk you up."

"Mom!" she said excitedly, and plopped down on the sofa to read it. She scanned the front of the postcard. "Is that a beach? She's really traveling in style!" She flipped it over happily.

Soul waited for the next outburst ("She's in Africa? No way!" "I wanna go see penguins, too!"), but it never came. He looked over and saw Maka reading and rereading the card with a mixed look of surprise and worry on her face.

"You okay, Maka?" he asked.

Without taking her eyes off the card, she replied, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I'm gonna…" she swallowed hard. "I'm gonna go." She stood and walked slowly to her room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

That cannot be good, Soul thought. He went to her door and opened it a crack. "Maka?" he said quietly. There was no reply, so he opened it all the way. Maka was curled up on her bed, staring out the window. "What's up?" He leaned against the doorframe, not sure if it was safe to approach her. He'd come into her room before when she was in a mood and received a 'Maka Chop' for his trouble.

Maka sighed. "It's my mom. She's dead."

Soul blinked in surprise. "Wait, what? Dead? What happened?"

She held up the postcard. "She said so." Reading from the back, she said, "You know I can't tell you what I'm doing,. But you should know that I do not expect to survive my next adventure. If I am lucky, it will be quick. I am so sorry, my dearest Maka, that I never saw how much you've grown."

"Oh." Soul frowned, hesitant to speak. He came and sat by his meister on the bed. "Uh…I'm sorry."

They sat in silence for a minute or two. After a while, Soul held out his arm. "C'mere."

Maka looked up at him. "What are you doing?"

Soul rolled his eyes. "I said, come here."

She shook her head. "I'm fine, Soul. I haven't seen her in years, and I knew it might happen-"

"Oh, shut up, Maka," Soul groaned. "How long have I known you? I think I know when you're not fine. Everything about today has pretty much sucked for you, so drop the stoic act and get over here!"

Maka knew that Soul wouldn't leave her alone, so she scooted over and hesitantly put her arms around his waist. He did the same.

After a few seconds, Maka suddenly broke. Tears flowed from her eyes. She clutched at her weapon, burying her face in his shoulder. Everything was coming out now: her problems with her jerk father, her fears that she'd never be quite good enough, the emptiness created by her mother's death that was slowly filling with grief and pain, and dangit, her scraped knee still hurt, and she was clinging to Soul like he was the last tether to life. He held her close, one hand behind her head, softening the shaky sobs wracking her slender frame. He could feel her soul, pouring its anguish into her tears and arms squeezing his chest. She cried for a minute, then two, then three. Six minutes later, her shaking subsided, and she lay limply in his arms.

Once her breathing became slow and rhythmic once again, Soul murmured in her ear, "You okay?"

"Yeah," she whispered back.

Neither wanted to disturb the other, so they sat in a silent embrace until they heard the front door open and someone walked in.

"Yoohoo!" Blair called. "I'm home!"

Soul and Maka quickly pulled apart. Both were blushing furiously.

Maka spoke first. "We should probably-"

"Yeah," Soul finished. "Definitely." Noticing the wet spot on his shoulder, he added, "I'm gonna go change my shirt."

Maka's eyes widened. "Oh. Sorry about that." She wiped her eyes and cheeks with her fingers.

Soul stood and headed for the door. Halfway across her roo,. He paused and turned around. "There's just one more thing we should agree on-"

Maka smiled and nodded. "Right. Tell no one."

"Cool guys don't go around giving hugs to their partners," Soul said with a smirk.

"And cool partners don't take them and bawl like a baby."

A sudden call came from the kitchen. "Who took my salmon out of the fridge?!" Blair screeched.

Soul winced. "It was starting to smell," he admitted.

As he was swinging around the doorframe, Maka piped up. "Soul?"

He paused. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He grinned slyly. "For what?" Then he slunk away to face the wrath of a fish-less kitten.