A/N: This was my only contribution for SoMa week sadly but I managed to write this in one day. Considering how slow I'm usually with writing, it has to be a record or something. Anyway, enjoy and reviews make me happy! =)

EDIT: In case you are confused seeing this particular oneshot in the M section now, it used to be a separate story in the T section and I thought why not make this the first contribution to my oneshot collection.

Title: Memories

Summary: Soul has never left for the DWMA. Instead he's living a peaceful and wealthy life with a loving family in New York. He should be happy and he actually is, but he can't shake this odd feeling off, the feeling that something is amiss. Written for SoMa week, day 1 - memories.

Rating: T

Genre: Romance/Friendship

"Hey Soul, is something the matter?" Wes asked, taking a seat beside him on the bench. It was a mild spring day, the sky was a little cloudy but the sun was shining. It was a very nice day.

Soul shook his head. "No, I'm fine."

Wes studied him worriedly, poking him on the forehead. "Are you sure? You've been kinda out of it since you turned 14. Did you eat too much cake?" His big brother chuckled and even Soul had to crack a grin.

"Wes," he said, scoffing mockingly, "There is no such thing as eating too much cake."

"True that, especially for someone who seems to have a bulldozer instead of a stomach like you."

"Shut up."

Soul felt his heart ease a little. He couldn't really explain it but he felt like something was...off. He didn't even know what or why. Something stirred within his mind, as if he was missing something, something important yet he couldn't put his finger on it.

He was blessed with a lot in his life, living a wealthy life in New York's Upper East Side. He had a very kind and loving family, his older brother being his favourite person in the world. His parents were a little strict and expected a lot from him, but they were also very supportive of him. Despite his different taste in music, they approved of it, even though they had been initially very hesitant about it. He was attending a great school, he had a promising future ahead of himself, so why did he feel like there was something wrong in all of this?

Soul sighed heavily, ignoring Wes' concerned eyes. He was perceptive like that, had always been. Whenever Soul felt like he was going to get crushed by his parents' pressure, Wes would smoothly step in and save the day.

"Let's go, Soul," Wes said, standing up with the grocery back in his left hand. "Dad said not to take so long. We should head home."

It was two weeks later that Soul found himself taking an aimless walk outside, even though the sun had already set. He had been feeling okay, only to be overcome with the weird sensation again.

Something is wrong, it told him, but never what exactly was. He was frowning heavily when he suddenly walked into another person. Luckily, he caught the girl before she could fall. She was a small thing, blond hair in pigtails and clad in a school uniform. Maybe she attended one of the private schools nearby.

"Sorry," Soul mumbled, releasing her arm to straighten his back. Looking her in the eyes, he continued, "I wasn't looking where I was─ do I know you? You seem familiar. Have we met already?"

The girl frowned, her vibrant green eyes narrowing with suspicion as she looked him up and down, scrutinizing him. "I don't think so," she said, crossing her arms and taking a small step away from him.

"Um."

Soul had never felt this stupid in his entire life. She was probably thinking that he was trying to flirt with her! He shook his head, his lips moving in an attempt at human communication but he could only stammer dumbly.

"If you will excuse me now, I'll be leaving." She smiled faintly and brushed past him. He wanted to call after her but why should he? He didn't want to come across like a creep.

He watched her retreating back until she rounded a corner.

He dreamed of the girl with the pigtails and pretty green eyes that night. But in the dream they seemed already acquainted with each other, close even. He didn't feel like an active participant in the dream; he watched from afar as his dream-double grinned at the girl before he was engulfed in a blue light and turned into a big scythe. The girl caught it with startling ease. She looked so thin and fragile, but the more Soul watched her, the more he saw that she was anything but fragile.

She was strong and fast and cut the monster that was trying to attack her in a matter of seconds. She hadn't even broken a sweat! The scythe transformed again, steel and blade turning into flesh and bones, familiar white hair and tan skin. His dream-double took a hold of the red orb that the monster left behind and swallowed it whole.

Soul blinked, confused and curious. They were talking, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. Their words were a jumbled mess of syllables and sound.

His dream-double stepped very close to the girl and for a moment Soul thought he might kiss her, but he just ruffled her hair, chuckling lowly, saying something and this time Soul caught something familiar in his speech, something that rang a bell...somehow, even though he had no idea when he had heard it before.

"Maka."

Today, Soul took the long way home after class. He didn't feel like facing his family right now. He walked up 77th street, took a turn right to 5th Avenue, and spotted the Metropolitan Museum of Art on the left. He had been there once with his parents and once with his class, which had been the lamest school trip ever. He had sworn on that day to never step into the wretched building ever again.

He paid the recommended 25 dollars for his ticket, scrunching up his nose at the madness that had to be controlling him right now. He didn't pay much attention to what was around him until he reached the Islamic Art collection where he found her again. He gasped, his heart thudding fiercely.

Yes, it had to be her. Without thinking about it, he approached as she was looking at some calligraphy. He hesitated for a brief moment, pondering over what he actually was attempting to do. He wanted to talk to a girl he didn't know and only because he had almost knocked her over the other day? And then what? What would he talk about? She'd probably think he was some sort of stalker, even though he had found himself in the same place as her coincidentally. Or not.

Soul was not someone who'd interpret more meaning into weird things that could happen in life, but the dreams he had been having about her, about them, they seemed scarily real. Even though he was usually just a third onlooker of the dreams, he-

Oh, who was that? Soul's red eyes narrowed as another boy approached the girl. He was small, tan and had shocking blue hair. He unceremoniously slapped the girl on her back only to laugh at her glower loudly, drawing the attention of several people in their vicinity.

Soul felt something stir in his chest, an ugly feeling he refused to name. Shaking his head, he turned away only to run into another person again!

"Sorry," he said, looking up long enough to see that this time it was a tall, willowy woman with dark hair he had crashed into. He didn't wait for her to say something in return, just brushed past her, catching her confused shout of "Black Star!"

That night he dreamed of her again and this time he wasn't just some onlooker but he was there with her, participating in this fight. He didn't know why everything felt so vivid, his blood and flesh quivering at the overwhelming fear of their adversary. The person was very skinny, pale eyes that looked like they wouldn't look out of place on a dying man. They had pink hair, pallid skin and a large black sword that would let out screams that would make his steel shake in searing pain.

The girl, Maka, his partner, couldn't manage to land a hit on them, just making sure to avoid their attacks, scared and frightened not only for herself but mainly for him. Her emotions were crashing into him like an avalanche. He heard himself screaming, telling her to fucking guard, but she was stubborn and scared and tired. She missed a step and it felt only natural for him to protect her because that was his job; he felt no fear when he transformed into his human self, he felt oddly detached from all of this and only watched the large black sword descend towards him lethargically as if in slow motion but it was no less deadly.

There was a coppery taste in his mouth as his chest burned like a thousand matches, his knees giving out. His ears rang shrilly, Maka's devastated screams echoing in his mind as she caught him in her arms. The stupid girl wouldn't run, insisted to be with him, her hot tears like a brand on his cheeks.

The scenario changed and he was more or less fine, not dead but it looked like this might be about to change. Some large wolf-man charged at them and Soul transformed, however he was too heavy for Maka, he could actually feel how his steel was burning through her white gloves and her skin. This time they weren't the only ones there, the weird and loud blue-haired boy was there too together with the tall dark willowy woman. Tsubaki and Black*Star, yes.

Soul felt stupid for never associating these names with them. The rest of the dream was blurry, his blood was pounding more loudly than ever before in his veins, his head buzzing painfully as he struggled not to slip into this madness. The madness that told him to eat the pure blue orb that belonged to his partner. His lips parted, sharp fangs dripping with saliva, black blood thrumming in his bloodstream as his mouth enclosed over-

Soul awoke with a start, panting heavily, skin slick with cold sweat. It was still dark outside. He threw the covers away to ward off the suffocating feeling of dread. He unconsciously ran his hand over his chest, fully expecting to find a scar that stretched from shoulder to hip, only to be surprised when his palm met smooth skin instead.

What was going on?

Three days later, when he was eating lunch with Wes at a small diner, Soul finally told him about the disquieting dreams he had been having. Wes' eyes widened when he mentioned how he could turn into a scythe in his dreams, how Mak—this girl with pigtails wielded him as if he couldn't be heavier than cotton candy.

"And the weird thing is," Soul said, absentmindedly sipping at his orange juice, "the more I have them, the less they feel like dreams...but more like...memories."

Wes let out a laugh, his jaw tense, his brow twitching. "Oh Soul, I understand."

Soul perked up, blinking in surprise. "You do?"

His older brother nodded happily, ruffling Soul's hair much to his dismay. He was no little kid anymore, damn it!

"Yes," Wes continued, wiping his hands nervously with a napkin. "I know how it is to like a girl for the first time, but be careful Soul, not every girl likes to be approached with how you feel like you have known her a long time already."

"It's...it's not like that," Soul spluttered, heat crawling over his cheeks as his brother could only laugh and coo over how he was growing up.

Making a sour grimace, Soul sighed, thinking back at the first and only words he had exchanged with Maka. He was probably going crazy. He didn't even know the girl, he couldn't even be sure that her name was indeed Maka yet he constantly kept referring to her by that name in his head.

"The dreams are just really weird," he said eventually, bowing his head dejectedly.

"Um, maybe you should go see someone about it if they're bothering you so much."

Soul looked up, cocking his head to the side. "And who do you think should I see? A shrink?"

"Maybe it will help," he said with a shrug, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably, glancing down to avoid his gaze.

"No, thanks. I don't need a shrink. I am not insane and don't plan to be," Soul said, running his hand down his chest, feeling for the scar that wasn't there but was still hounding him every day.

The next day was a Sunday and Soul felt compelled to...go the library and this time he wasn't surprised when he saw the pigtailed girl there too. She was walking up the stairs just as he spotted her and Soul refused to believe that their encounters had been merely meetings of chance. His mouth moved on its own accord, his lips moving, his voice wrapping around two syllables.

"Maka!"

She halted, her shoulders tensing and turned around. He was swept with relief when her green eyes settled on him, wide with bemusement and wariness. Time was frozen in that moment, the rest of the world might as well not be existing right now for all Soul knew, only able to register everything that was this girl. The moment lasted only a second and the world shifted back into focus. His breath was loud and erratic, he was at a loss of what to do and he knew he couldn't lose her again this time.

As his brain tried to work around the proper words, the girl hesitantly walked down the steps where he was and came to a stop at the stair that was one above his, making her slightly taller than him. She studied him for a moment, green eyes sharp and intelligent, and as if in a trance she reached out with her ungloved hand, touching his cheek.

Her breath stuttered when she whispered, "Soul?"

They were sitting like some misplaced statues on the steps to the library silently. Soul wanted to say something but he found his tongue tied, but then he decided his tongue had been lately always tied, so he might as well give it a try.

"Sooo...I'm Soul," he said uneasily, cringing inside and wanting nothing more than to vanish into a pitch black hole.

"I know," she said, smiling slightly. "And I'm Maka, but you knew this too."

"Heh, yeah." He scratched the side of his head just to do something with his hands because he felt the embarrassing urge to grab one of hers as they would do so often in the dreams. But dreams were another matter altogether and he doubted she'd appreciate him being so touchy with her, although she had touched his cheek too, which many would interpret as a maybe intimate gesture. He could feel the blush coming over his cheeks. Damn it, where was his cool now?

"How...how did you know my name, Maka?" he asked, her name a familiar sound to his vocal cords and mouth.

"I, ah, I'm not sure actually. Does it sound crazy when I tell you that, uh, that I dreamed about you?"

His heart soared and it was as if all air left his body for a moment. "Really?" Red eyes wide, he turned slightly towards her, his right knee brushing against her left one. "I saw you in my dreams too, though it was weird. We fought monsters and stuff...and I could turn into a scythe and then you took my shaft and waved me around like-"

What the hell was he even saying. As if the 'normal' version of his dreams wasn't bizarre enough, he was talking like...like...

There was no way the blush on his cheeks wouldn't be permanently etched onto his skin now.

"Wait! You can turn into a scythe?!" She grabbed his shoulders making him look into her eyes again, either not caring how he had sounded or not understanding it.

"Uh, yeah, I mean I could in the dreams."

She gasped and her mouth curved into one of the most absurdly adorable smiles he had ever seen, leaving him completely gobsmacked. She shook him again and he let her.

"No, no, you don't understand. I...I let me introduce myself properly. I am Maka Albarn, student and weapon meister at the Death Weapon Meister Academy or DWMA for short. Have you ever heard of it? It's in Nevada! And...and there are meisters and weapons like you!"

He carefully pried her hands off of his shoulders, the relief he had been feeling the whole time slowly but surely making way for cautious trepidation. Maybe under the sweet and pretty exterior, this girl was insane and had broken out of a mental ward.

"What are you talking about?"

Her excitement faltered, but there was a fire in her eyes or more of a spark, determined and stubborn at once.

"The dreams you had Soul, I had the same but...but I didn't think too much of it. But the day you bumped into me on the streets, my dreams became clearer and the scythe I had been wielding all the time was you and maybe...maybe," she stammered, fidgeting on the place as her cheeks were tinted a lovely rose. He flinched when she suddenly made a grab for his hand, lacing their fingers together and it was as if something missing had been set in place. The weight of her hand was achingly familiar as was everything about her. There it was again, the mild sensation tickling the back of his soul, telling him to see the truth. "Maybe...we've dreamed of the future."

Her words startled him out of his thoughts, making him snort loudly. "That's bullshit, come on."

"Hey!" She smacked him over the head with the back of her hand and that too had a weird familiarity to it. "I'm serious, Soul. Things like that don't happen coincidentally. I..." she exhaled harshly through her nose, squeezing his hand more firmly. "I don't even know why I am here in New York. I told my father I wanted to see the museum and other landmarks and he said it was ok because he felt sorry for me that I still haven't found a weapon partner, but to be honest, the landmarks weren't the real reason to why I'm here."

"What is it then?"

"I don't know," she said, hissing with frustration. "I felt like I had to come here but I can't even tell you why because...urgh, I don't even know. I am not making much sense am I?" She laughed mirthlessly, letting her head drop onto her free hand with a defeated groan.

Soul watched her for a moment and surmised that yes, if she had told him this a few weeks ago, he'd refused to associate with her any further, but thinking back at the dreams he had had, of how this odd, intangible feeling in his chest made him go to places where he usually wouldn't go for apparently no reason at all, made her story sound like a perfectly rational tale. He reached out to a pigtail and pulled at it lightly. Catching her questioning eyes, he grinned reassuringly and patted her on the head.

"It's okay, I understand."

"You do?" She looked unconvinced but happy at the same. Soul stood up, taking her with him, their hands never separating. This felt right, somehow.

"Yeah. Come on, let's do something. What do you want to see next of New York City?"

"I don't know, just take me somewhere cool." She smiled brightly.

"Cool, huh?"

The next few day he spent more and more with Maka. He took her to the movies, showed her the best places of the Upper East Side and even the boring places like the museums and libraries and galleries. He made an effort not to look too bored but she could see right through him. They tended to hold hands a lot though it felt natural and he never questioned it.

She was an odd girl. She was very kind and bubbly, her speech quite polite and proper. She didn't like to curse and she would make sure to reprimand him if he did. He found out that she was fun to tease, but had an explosive temper that nearly caused him a concussion. He had called her Tiny Tits, partly as a joke and partly to taunt her, and she responded by hitting his skull with a thick tome. She called this a Maka Chop. He had told himself he would never tease her again, but he didn't abide by that. He teased her and she hit him over the head with a book if it annoyed her enough.

She was also extraordinarily smart. Sometimes it was difficult to keep up with what she was saying; she was using a lot of big words, which he doubted most people older than her even knew, and ennunciated her words perfectly. She would tell him about Death City and the DWMA in Nevada, show him pamphlets and pictures, insisting it was a very beautiful place.

He snorted, nearly spitting his coke out. "Are you serious?" he asked, rasing his eyebrow questioningly. He took the picture she had just shoved into his face and regarded it for a moment before he looked her in the eyes with a smirk. "This looks like straight out of a Tim Burton movie. Don't tell me that's how this Death City actually looks like. Did you just google pictures and print them so you could show me?"

She crossed her arms over her slight chest, pouting childishly. "No, I did not. And how do you know Timothy Burton?"

"Uh..."

"He was the first architect of Death City!"

"Uh..."

It was only when they came across Wes when he was with his friend (or girlfriend?) that their...dating bliss ( were they even dating?) came to a halt.

Wes didn't hesitate to tease him, never missing the opportunity to call Maka his girlfriend even though she insisted that it wasn't the case. Soul had to admit that his brother's conclusion wasn't that unreasonable, considering he saw them with their hands locked like that.

"So how long have you known each other already? Where did you meet? Do you play an instrument Maka? Soul is very good with the piano."

Soul glowered at Wes murderously. What the hell was he doing?

"No, I don't play an instrument. I am not that good with music actually," she said, smiling mildly. Soul could feel the discomfort oozing out of her in waves. She turned to him then, more at ease when she spoke. "I didn't know you could play the piano, Soul? Will you play for me one day?"

He looked away with flushed cheeks. The collar of his shirt felt too tight around his neck. He loosened his tie a little. "Uh, maybe."

"You're not good with music you say?" Wes cut in. His voice sounded amiable enough but Soul knew his brother was up to something. He would have never thought that Wes would make such a big deal out of him meeting a girl. And technically they weren't even officially a couple. Soul had no idea what they were. He had only known her for a few weeks after all.

"No, I'm not," she said demurely. "My mama tried to make me take up the clarinet but I had no talent for it and she gave up." She sighed.

Wes' eyes narrowed in contemplation, his head tilted to the side as he took a small sip from his coffee. "You see the Evans family is a very reputable family in the music industry. It's unheard of that a family member doesn't know how to play an instrument."

"Oh, I understand."

"Wes, just shut up..."

His older brother however ignored him pointedly, his maroon eyes focused entirely on Maka while his weird friend had remained deathly quiet the whole time. Soul had never seen her before. She had curtly introduced herself as Minnie but that was it, no other words had come out of her mouth. She was pretty, he guessed, but her eyes were dark like her hair and her skin was pale.

"This includes our friends and partners as well, Maka," Wes continued. "If you know what I mean."

"I...um, I don't know what to say," Maka said, looking at Soul, asking him for help.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Wes?" Soul asked coldly, clenching his fists tightly. Maka's small hand on top of his knuckles was barely a comfort. "What kind of game are you playing? Asking her these dumb questions and making her feel uncomfortable. This isn't like you."

Something like regret flashed in his brother's eyes before it was gone again to leave that eerie cold expression back. It reminded Soul of their father and that alone was enough to make him shudder.

"What I'm trying to say, dear brother, is that she is unfit to associate with you. I understand she's very pretty but she is musically inept as she told us. Do you think it would be healthy to have a girlfriend like that?"

"Excuse me?" Maka cut in, irritation making the pitch of her voice rise. "Don't talk about me as if I'm not here. It's rude."

Wes merely scoffed, raising his chin haughtily. Soul's blood was boiling and he had to cling onto the last shreds of his self-control not to jump over the table to give his brother a good slap on the head.

"God, Wes, We're only 14. What are you even trying to say and we aren't even-"

"I think I'll leave now."

"But Maka!"

"Goodbye Miss Albarn." Wes lifted his cup to his lips, not even gracing Maka with a glance. She was bristling, Soul could feel her anger permeating the tense air and he had no idea what to do. She attempted a smile when her eyes locked with his red ones, but it was strained and terribly forced and Soul could feel his heart dropping when she said, "Goodbye Soul."

He didn't see Maka after that again and he wanted to bang his head against the nearest available hard surface at his lack of forethought. They hadn't exchanged their numbers, but they had never needed to call each other. They'd meet each other regardless as if some higher power pulled the strings of their bodies together.

His dreams became worse and even in those Maka appeared less and less. Instead he dreamed of a small red demon that taunted him. Soul usually felt just annoyed at its presence until the demon grew larger and larger, towering over him and casting its viscous shadow of black blood over his small frame. Soul would scream and cry, call for help to no avail as his chest would feel like it was about to burst open. The black blood would engulf him, starting with his feet only to climb up higher and higher and there was nothing he could do to defend himself. It would wrap around his neck, choking him, seep into his nostrils and open mouth, enclose over him entirely until his pathetic gargling stopped.

Then he would wake up, drenched in sweat, his blanket knocked down and his hair plastered to his forehead. His hand would, as it did so often, run over his chest, retrace the path of the imaginary scar. Sometimes Soul was sure the scar was there because sometimes it hurt and burned, driving him crazy because there wasn't anything that could inflict such pain upon him.

Soul missed Maka, and he hadn't had a real conversation with Wes after Maka left that day. He growled to himself, gritting his teeth. Wes was never one to bully people like that. Wes usually didn't care about anybody's background as long as they were nice and decent people, so what had he seen in Maka to make him behave like that?

He needed to talk to Wes, but it was three in the morning and his brother would murder him if he woke him now. He sighed, exhaustion catching up with him and making his eyelids droop. He would talk to Wes tomorrow.

Wes and he had been tasked by their mother with grocery shopping again and Soul thought this was the perfect opportunity to talk about the shitstorm from the other day. The silence was awkward between them and Wes didn't even attempt to indulge in idle smalltalk as he'd usually do to ease the tension. Feeling his fury rise, Soul decided to put an end to this stupidity himself.

"Look, Wes, do you mind telling what this was all about with Maka?"

"Exactly what I said it was. She is unfit to be with you."

Soul groaned lowly, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "You and I both know that's bullshit!"

"Shut up, Soul. Let's get the groceries and be done with it. I've heard there is a dangerous mugger running around here. He has already killed two people."

Rolling his eyes, Soul put a hand on Wes' shoulder, noticing how they were almost the same height now.

"Don't try to change the subject." He held his brother's gaze resolutely, refusing to back off even though he had never seen Wes looking at him with such anger. For a moment, Soul was certain Wes might burst and yell and punch at him, but he only let out a deflated sigh, his shoulders dropping.

"I don't want her near you because-" Wes began, clenching his fists, "because she's going to take you to Nevada."

"Huh? Don't be stupid. I don't want to go to Nevada."

Wes shot him a bitter smile. "Really? Because the last time you were very eager to leave."

Soul took his hand off his brother's shoulder, staring at him as if he had grown a second head out of his back. "What are you saying? Nothing you say is making sense. When did I leave the last time?! Wes, what the-"

Before Soul had the chance to finish his tirade, he was knocked off his feet violently. He scraped his arm on the sidewalk and he could hear the screams and shouts of the people around him.

"Soul!"

He barely had any time to react; Wes pulled him up by his elbow, making Soul flinch at the pain. Sharp silvery claws missed him by a hair's breadth and his breath caught in his throat at...the monster that was before him, a monster that was exclusive to his freaky dreams. It was twice as tall as him, its mouth carved into a large twisted smile, its canines sharp and dripping with spit.

Soul shuddered and he could feel Wes' hold on his arm tightening. His heart was beating so hastily that he feared it might just burst out of his chest, if the monster didn't rip it out of him that is. There was a miniscule moment of hesitation before they both ran into the other direction. Soul's throat was tight with dread; he had never run this fast in his life. He let out a muffled cry when Wes took him by the collar of his shirt and pushed him to the ground, the wind of the monster's claws nearly brushing his neck.

Fuck! He didn't want to die. His eyes burned with tears, his blood soaring heavily as he yelped and crawled back until his path was blocked by a wall. He bit his lip to try to hold back an undignified whimper. His head hurt, a warm liquid trickling down the side of his face. This was it? He...how, he was just 14, he couldn't die yet. Not like this. But the monster didn't care how young he was, it nonchalantly raised its claws over its head and Soul closed his eyes, muttering his final prayers, hoping Wes would make it out alive.

"Don't you dare to touch my brother!"

The pain he had been waiting for never came. Soul wrenched his eyes open, wincing at the monster's high shriek. Oh God, what was Wes doing?! His brother was fighting the thing with a metal pole, hitting it over the head futilely. Soul struggled to his feet, his knees weak and shaky, his muscles tense with fear. His eyes widened when the monster...the pre-kishin hit the pole out of Wes' hands.

"Wes, watch out!"

"Damn it, Soul, what are you doing here. Run!"

He choked back a sob as the monster turned away from Wes, its grisly visage contorting into a grotesque grin at the sight of Soul. Maybe running would have been the better option after all. Fully awaiting a final blow to end it all, Soul was shocked again when the monster was kicked down. Not by Wes this time but...

"Maka?"

Indeed, there she was. Standing there tall and proud, in her usual pigtails and her uniform. Her eyes were narrowed into a fierce glare and even though she was small and thin, Soul didn't doubt her strength in this moment.

"Are you both okay?" she asked, eying him worriedly. He could only nod dumbly and threw a glance at Wes, sighing with relief when he saw his brother unharmed. As the pre-kishin was still trying to get back onto its feet, Maka turned to Soul, eyes burning with determination. "Soul," she said resolutely, "I need you to transform."

He hesitated for the briefest of a second to catch his breath but then everything that happened came naturally. Blue light engulfed him and it was a quick transformation from boy to scythe. Maka's hands were comfortingly warm and her grasp was firm and strong. She let out a powerful cry, charged at the pre-kishin, never missing a beat as she dodged its clumsily aimed claws and rammed the tip of his blade into its neck.

The pre-kishin let one final ghastly shriek before Maka severed its head from its neck, her soul thrumming with satisfaction and pride. In its wake the monster left behind a vibrantly glowing red orb.

Soul didn't let go of Maka even when her loud annoying friend with the blue hair tried to push him off.

"Fuck off," Soul snarled and together with Maka's scolding and Tsubaki's peacemaking, they made it to the Evans mansion. The first one to hug him was his father, quickly followed by his mother, who looked especially distressed at his head wound, insisting that they go to the hospital. In the end, it was Tsubaki who bandaged his head after he assured his parents that he was perfectly fine if somewhat shaken. It was the most glorious understatement of the century.

The excitement died down towards the evening. His parents courteously insisted that Maka, Tsubaki and Black*Star stay the night over. It was the least they could do for their help. Soul and Maka spent the rest of the day in his room, chatting idly. He kind of enjoyed how she fussed over him all worried and cute, running her hand carefully through his hair. It relaxed him and it comforted his soul.

"Soul, Maka?" Wes said, knocking on his door hollowly. "Can I come in?"

Soul cracked an eye open lazily, not bothering to get his head up from Maka's soft lap. "Yeah, come in. What is it, Wes?" He did not miss how Maka refused to look at his brother.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Wes shut the door behind him and leaned against it. "I think I have an apology to make. Maka, I'm sorry for treating you so rudely, it was uncalled for."

She perked up, her eyes startled as she searched for the right words. "Um, it's okay, thanks."

Wes smiled faintly and then turned to him saying, "And Soul, I have to apologize especially to you."

"Huh?" Now this made him raise his head from Maka's lap. "Why?"

He sighed again and Soul had never seen his brother look so uncertain in his life. He looked defeated and exhausted and he likely needed a good night's rest. Soul felt guilt welling inside his chest. He hadn't bothered to make completely sure that Wes was unharmed. He was a horrible brother.

"Because everything's my fault," Wes said somberly. "And before you say anything let me finish. I...don't know how to explain but...I...I made a deal with a witch." Maka gasped loudly, her hands clutching the pleats of her skirt.

"A deal with a witch is dangerous! What have you promised to do for her in return?"

Wes shook his head. "Nothing. I assume using her magic was enough for her."

Soul didn't know what was going on but after today he knew better than to doubt magical things going on in life. But what was Wes' business with all of this?

"Anyway, what I wanted was to have my little brother back. I didn't actually expect her to turn back time to months before you left for the DWMA! I tried to make the best out of it and treated you so you would never consider leaving, even though I hadn't been aware of what had happened until I started to remember somehow. The witch, Minerva, said that I possibly retained my memories of the time you weren't here because of the deal we made." He let out a hiss between his teeth, running his hand through his tousled hair that was usually impeccably combed. His eyes were dull with sadness and Soul had a hard time of grasping what was going on. Was his brother telling him he had somehow made the world travel back in time? "Apparently you didn't lose your memories either," he continued, grinning weakly.

A dumbfounded silence befell them and it was Maka who broke it.

"We need to inform Lord Death of this immediately."

It was later that night after the second wave of excitement died down that Soul took Maka to the music room. The grand piano stood in the middle imposingly. He felt kind of nervous, his throat tight and dry as he led her by her hand to stand a little behind him. He seated himself on the bench stiffly, his back tense and his fingers twitchy with anxiousness. He kept his head high as he let his fingers descend onto the keys.

It was a dark and somber song, the first part of the melody clashed with the second more lighthearted path, the tones higher and softer. He was thinking of her, of her laughter, of her eyes; he was thinking of his family, of his stern yet kind mother, of his bumbling but intelligent father, of his protective and strong brother; he was thinking of his friends, the dulled memories clearing little by little. His soul was soaring, his wavelength unconsciously seeking out Maka's, for her to respond in kind.

He finished the song with a mighty clash of keys. He was panting, feeling more exhausted than ever, sweat dampening his forehead. She hugged him from behind, her hair tickling the skin of his neck, her lips curled into a smile against his ear.

"I remember it was your music that pulled me to you."

And everything went black.

He awoke with a start, red eyes wide with shock. He patted the mattress beneath him, realizing this bed was smaller than the one in the Evans mansion and not as soft. His hand went to his chest and there it was! The jagged scar he had gotten in a suicidal act of heroism to save his meister's life.

Speaking of which, where was Maka?

He dashed out of his room with frantic steps only to almost crash into Maka. He caught himself in the last second.

"Soul!" She smiled and threw her slight weight against him, her hands encircling his neck in a hug. She pressed her head against his collarbones and after a moment of surprise, he wrapped his arms around her waist, smiling into her soft hair. "You know I'd tell you how much of a weird dream I've had but I doubt it was a dream."

"You mean the one where I never came to the DWMA, stayed in New York until I bumped into you things got quickly weird with Wes having made a deal with a witch that involved some sort of time travel apparently?"

She nodded.

"Nope, definitely not a dream."

"I can assure both of you that it wasn't a dream." They scrambled out of their embrace the moment Lord Death's voice resounded from the bathroom. They greeted him with a slight bow, but Soul didn't plan on beating around the bush any longer.

Looking into the small foggy mirror of their bathroom, he began, "What happened, Lord Death?"

Their superior tilted his head to the side, raising a thick white finger. "Exactly what your brother told you. He made a deal with the witch Minerva. Or as you might have come to know her: Minnie."

"Oh, she was the witch?! That actually explains why she was suddenly around my brother."

Lord Death nodded. "Indeed. Doctor Stein and Spirit have found her and brought her to me. She explained me how she came to wield such tremendous power."

"What did she tell you?" Maka asked.

"That she can't use her magic on her own. She needs a...host. The deal she made with your brother consisted of his wish that you had never left for the DWMA. And the stronger a person's wish, the more potent are her powers. Your brother must truly love you when she was able to contort space and time with that. Everything went back to normal the moment he broke the deal with the witch and seeing that you belong to the DWMA as much as you belong with your family, Soul." Lord Death chuckled to himself. " The time was reset as were our memories-"

"But...Soul and I...we still remembered each other somehow. The things we saw, I believed them to be some sort of premonitions, but they were our memories of our time together! How can that be possible when we had technically never met?" Maka muttered, biting her lip in contemplation.

"That was indeed quite peculiar and you are right that remembering each other should have been impossible, and I believe if it weren't for your memories we could have never been able to restore the timeline into its proper proceedings. My theory is that...despite everything, your souls remembered each other."

"What?" They asked flatly in unison, looking at each other dumbly.

"Your souls had been calling out for each other because they likely missed the other's wavelength and presence. That's why you went to New York, Maka and that's why you could transform effortlessly, Soul."

"Oh, I see," Maka said, clutching her hand over her heart, her cheeks tinted a rosy colour.

"Anyway! I'm glad everything's resolved now. I will be going now. You two have fun!" the death-god waved at them cheerily and vanished with a flash.

They stood there for a moment to take this all in, recollecting their thoughts before they exited the bathroom and turned to look at the other with equally wondrous expressions.

"Our souls...remembered each other?" Soul said slowly, scratching his head.

"They...called out for each other?" Maka whispered, still blushing.

"Man, that sounds like straight out of these dumb supernatural romance novels you sometimes read, Bookworm."

"They are not dumb, Soul!"

"Yes, they are. Girl meets boy, they fall in love and make weird vampire babies or some shit."

"Hey, they're not all like that! Most are really good. And what do you know? As if you read anything at all!"

"Tsk, I don't need to read that much."

"Oh, shut up, you sound stupider and stupider with each day."

"Meh, whatever you say, nerd."

He snickered when she hit his shoulder and pouted in that adorable way of hers. They seated themselves on the couch and he reflexively grabbed the remote control and turned the TV on. They leaned against each other, her head on his shoulder, while he rested his cheek on the top of her head.

He had missed this, yes. As wonderful as it was to be with his family under different circumstances again, he wouldn't ever want to trade the life he had with Maka. The implications of what Lord Death told them swirled within his mind. Their souls had been calling out for the other, they missed each other, they remembered each other!

"Hey Maka?"

"Hmm?"

"Would it be okay if we kissed each other? Seems fitting now, don't you think?"

She smiled and his heart swelled with warmth as he pulled her towards him.