Whole Hordes
By: DemonClowSorceress
Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater or any of the characters.
Nobody expected this.
Maka Albarn had a temper. Everyone knew this. But she normally restricted her fits of anger towards her weapon partner or her papa, and only with thick hardback tomes of literature. Occasionally one blue-haired assassin also suffered cranial damage, but aside from pre-kishin eggs or the occasional witch, that's about it.
She wasn't one to completely snap and engage in an all-out rough-and-tumble scuffle with complete strangers. Definitely not in public. And most definitely not in the hallway of Shibusen.
But she had, it was, and it was happening.
Tsubaki watched with horrified fascination as Maka scrapped like the best street fighter with three - count 'em, three - other female meisters. Her pigtails were gone, the ribbons torn loose and cast aside early in the fight. Her Spartoi uniform was in the process of being ripped by angry hands, the coat already gone and her shirt ripped from her skirt.
The chain-scythe still wasn't sure how the fight escalated so quickly, but it had started innocently enough. The three had come up to Maka and started asking about her partner Soul Eater, specifically about his availability. Ever since he'd made Deathscythe status, the attention he'd gathered had doubled and partner requests had been stuffed into his locker every day. These girls had been repeat requesters, not getting the hint that Soul wasn't taking on a new partner. Words were exchanged, threats followed, and when one girl made the mistake of questioning Soul's taste in "ugly, flat-chested nerds with no sex appeal", well, that's when Maka lunged and the fight got physical.
The crowd was gaining members, several cheering for either Maka or her opponents (the former by Spartoi, the latter by the majority female population), while Kim was taking bets on who'd win this fight. Ox was visibly floored by the fact that Maka wasn't exhibiting honor-student behavior, while Harvar just watched with bored interest, if that made any sense. Maka's best cheerleaders were Liz and Patti, who jumped up and down chanting, "Go Maka! Kick ass!" over and over.
Tsubaki was just praying that someone would come along and break up the fight before someone got hurt. Maka was strong, but against three enemies, alone, and driven by rage, she wasn't thinking straight.
But then again, she rarely thought straight when it came to Soul. Tsubaki knew how upset her meister friend got when Soul's locker opened to reveal more and more partner requests, and not a few love letters mixed in there as well. Why wouldn't there be? At eighteen, Soul Eater Evans was dark, handsome, and powerful as one of the youngest Deathscythes in Death City. His cool factor had grown exponentionally after he realized that he didn't have to try to be cool anymore.
But there still remained the fact that Maka was frightfully insecure about her weapon's choice to stay with her. Now that he was a Deathscythe, he could have his pick of any meister in Shibusen. That knowledge was enough to make Maka volitile enough to be susceptible to catfights.
A piercing screech drew her attention back to the fight. Maka had managed to grab a hank of one girl's hair and yank it hard, while another girl had sunk her teeth into Maka's leg. The third girl was trying to latch her hands around Maka's throat, but her progress was hindered by Maka's free hand punching her in the gut. Insults were flying through the air all the while, her attackers calling Maka all types of names and a few that had even Tsubaki's ears burning.
"What the hell?"
"Oh thank Death, Soul," Tsubaki breathed as the white-haired scythe appeared beside her. "You have to step in, Maka's not doing so well..."
Soul's crimson eyes were fixed on his battle-crazed meister, unable to believe it was really Maka. His shock faded quick enough though, and he quickly pushed towards the fighting girls and grabbed Maka around her waist. "Oy, Maka! Quit it!"
"Lemme go!" she shouted in response, flailing like a fish in his arms. "Lemme at 'em!"
"Knock it off!" he yelled in her ear. This made all four girls freeze in their tracks, the other three staring up at him with hearts in their eyes. Oh geez, not these crazy chicks again, he thought, exasperated.
From down the hall someone hissed, "Sid-sensei's coming! Run!" At this warning every meister and weapon became a world-class athlete and bolted, leaving Soul with a panting Maka in his arms. Not even the fighting girls had remained; surprising, since they'd been pretty beat up themselves.
She had quite a few injuries that Soul could see, including a couple bloody cuts from clawing fingernails and smattering of darkening bruises along with the bitemark on her calf. Not willing to risk going to class with his meister in such a state, Soul made a command decision for the both of them to cut class.
It was just dissections with Stein anyway. God knows they didn't need any more of that.
Luckily he'd driven in on his motorcycle, so Maka wouldn't have to walk home with her injuries. The ride home was silent, which suited Soul just fine. He doubted he would've gotten a straight answer from her anyway.
When he unlocked the front door, Soul immediately went into the bathroom and grabbed the first-aid kid. Maka managed to hobble to the couch, plop down, and pull off her boots and tights by the time he returned.
"Gotta say, you're a pretty good scrapper, Maka," he drawled as he smeared antiseptic cream over her scraped knee. "Never thought you'd resort to hair-pulling, though. Kinda girly for you, ain't it?"
"Shut up, Soul," she glowered, staring at his hands as he worked. "How much of it did you see?"
"Well, I showed up just after that curly-haired, busty blonde yelled something about you being a cut-rate raging bitch-queen, so...everything past that." Lifting her leg, he whistled at the bitemark on her calf. "Wow. She really bit you."
"Just wrap it already."
He shrugged and obeyed, cleaning the wound and gently wrapping clean bandages around it.. "Should I even ask why this fight broke out?"
"If you want dinner and not a concussion, I'd say no."
A jagged grin tilted up his lips. "Ah, so it was about me."
"Not every girlfight is about you, baka." Maka refused to look at him. "They were picking a fight with me for other reasons."
Soul wanted to press, but he also valued his skull staying intact. So he just shrugged, got up, and put the kettle on for tea. When he returned, he had a package of frozen peas in hand, which he handed to Maka to press against her black eye. "Next time, go for the throat," he advised. "Not a lot of people fight as well when they can't breathe."
She didn't respond, letting a heavy silence smother the apartment as he continued to patch her up. When the teakettle's whistle pierced the quiet, he left to turn off the stove. Pouring two mugs of hot water, Soul let the teabags steep and crossed his arms in thought. He'd only been half-joking about the reason for the fist-a-cuffs, but Maka's inability to make eye contact had him second-guessing. A tiny smirk tugged at his lips.
He felt her standing in the kitchen doorway; he'd long grown accustomed to sensing her soul in close quarters. "Penny for your thoughts," he said without turning around.
"Are you going to leave me?"
That made him look back at her, his cool façade shattered by widened ruby eyes. "What?"
"Are. You. Going. To. Leave. Me," Maka repeated, every word sounding like she ripped it off her tongue with great difficulty.
"Why the hell would I do that?" Soul demanded. "I'm your weapon, Maka. I've always been yours."
"But you're a Deathscythe now. I've made you that." Her eyes were overbright, as if she was about to...Oh geez, don't cry. "Y-You don't have t-t-to st-tay with m-me anymore," she sobbed. "Y-You c-can p-p-pick your own m-m-mei - "
Faster than a breath he was in front of her, grabbing her bruised hands in his. "Maka, look at me," he ordered, tilting her chin up to make her look up. "I'm not your deadbeat loser dad. I'm not leaving you. I'm your weapon, and like it or not, you're stuck with me."
"R-R-Really?"
"Really." He grinned crookedly. "I mean, after that scuffle? It was a very cool thing all around."
Maka blushed. "I must've looked like an idiot."
"A bit." Releasing her hands, Soul leaned forward until his forehead was touching hers. "Personally, I thought you looked a little badass. How many guys can say that their meister fought for him tooth and nail against three other meisters?"
"And won," she put in.
He smiled. "Hands down."
She pouted. "You jerk."
"You wouldn't have me any other way." With his charmingly dark grin, Soul twisted his head to press his cheek against hers. "Want to know a secret?" he whispered in her ear.
He heard her breath catch in her throat and couldn't suppress the smug feeling of I'm doing this to her. "Wh-What?" she stammered.
She's so cute when she's flustered. Lowering his voice to a sexy murmur, Soul whispered, "I'd fight whole hordes single-handedly for you."
Maka giggled breathlessly. "Th-That a f-f-fact?"
"Uh, yeah." He pulled back and offered her another grin. "I'd do anything to keep you."
"Anything?" A flicker of doubt colored her voice. The unspoken Prove it hung over their heads like a dark cloud.
Its presence made Soul's smile falter slightly. He wasn't sure what he could do to calm her suspicions. He'd done everything short of giving her a ring and his last name to prove that he's not going anywhere. And given her parents' marital history, he doubted she'd accept either.
So he went with the simplest way he knew how; he took her hand and rested it over his heart, directly over the scar that remained from their first battle with Crona.
"Yeah," he replied. "Anything."
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