Fight
They fight each other the way they fight Kishin Eggs.
Blows underhanded, no punches pulled, the only objective is to destroy the other.
They both know better, they know that they're partners, and they should treat their partner better, but when they're face to face, rage controlling their minds, all they can think of is the quickest way to take the other down.
Blair hates it. She doesn't understand how two people, who care for each other so much, could be so willing to inflict pain on the other.
What the hell is your problem anyways?
My problem is you, and your disrespectful attitude towards me!
What the fuck did I do?!
What do you mean?! Do you think you could flaunt all your new partnership requests any more than you have been?! I get it; you're so fucking popular now! So fuck off Death Scythe!
That's why you're mad at me?! Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me!
Blair's ears flattened against her head while they screamed at each other in the kitchen. She wondered how they pulled off everything they did, how they were so strong, but when they got home, and no one else was around to see them, they completely broke apart.
Strong as they were, the Magic Kitty was convinced that it was going to break apart one day.
They could only fight each other for so long.
It scared Tsubaki, the way that they could look at each other, with absolutely pure hatred in their eyes.
After one particular mission the four of them went on, where the Scythe had made a dangerous move to protect his Meister, which left him with a massive cut on his arm that Tsubaki had barely been able to patch up. On their walk back, neither of them spoke to the other, the anger that sparked between the two had been so smothering, even Black*Star had noticed, and wisely chose not to comment on it, even though it was obvious that the two of them were going to clash sooner or later.
It was sooner.
While they waited at the designated spot for someone from Shibusen to send them the tickets to get out of the godforsaken jungle, the Weapon made the mistake of stepping on his Meister's foot. Faster than Tsubaki thought possible, her friend had turned on her Weapon, abuse streaming out of her mouth.
You just can't figure out where to put yourself, can you?!
What is that supposed to mean?
I'm the Meister, you asshole, you go where I lead you! We aren't 13 anymore; you should have this figured out by now! Go where I lead you!
Oh, and if I go where you lead, and you end up dead because you made the wrong fucking call, where does that leave me?! Oh yeah! The Weapon who let his Meister die, because she told him not to move!
If you don't follow my lead, how can we be a team?!
I'll follow your lead when I'm sure you're not leading me to my death!
Tsubaki only looked at Black*Star, a worried look on her face. Black*Star himself didn't look very confident in his friend as they chewed the crap out of each other, each back and forth getting angrier and angrier. She reached for her Meister's hand, and he held onto it.
They couldn't help but feel like they were watching the dream team decay, right before their eyes.
Kidd loved being able to see souls.
He liked that he could see the essence of a human, without the trial and error of relationships and actually dealing with people. He could see people's true intentions without being hindered by their personalities. Most of the time, he thought this was a great, beautiful power.
Then he watched the Scythe Meister and the Scythe argue.
What surprised him most about the exchange, was when he watched them argue, and he stared at their souls, how genuinely angry the two of them where. Whatever they were fighting about, no matter how stupid, was actually important to them. But, because he could see that, he was able to see when the Weapon said something completely vicious, the symmetry was broken. The Meister would stop being angry, and be heartbroken instead, and the Weapon's anger immediately faded into regret.
But, if you just looked at their faces, all you would see was anger. He couldn't imagine being so mad at your weapon, but for them, it was starting to be a weekly occurrence.
They couldn't deal with each other, but there was no way they were going to give each other up.
Kidd often wondered if they could possibly have a happy ending anymore.
Maka had never felt as much anger as she did when she and Soul actually did fight.
Their bond was much stronger than most Weapon/Meister pairs, and because of that, Maka was pretty sure that it made their fights that much worse. She didn't like it, she didn't like screaming at him, she didn't like the yelling or the fighting, but sometimes, she needed it. She needed Soul to be a scapegoat; she needed him to be yelled at, because it would honestly help her.
Maka couldn't deal with feelings very well, or with much of anything else, because growing up, all she ever saw was her parents fighting, and her mother taking most of it out on Spirit. Just again and again they would clash, and all little Maka had been able to pull from those memories was how relaxed her mother looked afterwards.
The fighting was her mother's release.
And, as Maka was slowly realizing, it was hers too. It scared her, she didn't want to be like her mother, she didn't want to lose Soul.
After each fight, win or lose, she'd find herself at Soul's door, a pitiful knock declaring her presence. When he'd open the door, his face would be blank, but he'd open his arms, and she'd fall into his body, sobbing out her apologies, trying to explain to him that she didn't know another way to deal, but she was trying, he had to believe she was trying.
He did, they both knew that he did, he honestly did believe that she was trying, which is why every time this happened, he'd take her in his arms, move her to his bed, and they'd forgive each other, as many times as it took to expel the guilt from their bodies, so they could lay next to each other and want to be held by the other.
She lay in his bed after a nastier fight, his arm around her waist, their foreheads pressed together. She could only stare at the sleeping Weapon, frown etched on her face.
He would only put up with this for so long, there was going to be a line crossed at some point, and when that happened, she was afraid that she'd never see those crimson eyes again.
Soul was no idiot.
He knew the exact moment in any conversation where he should either back off, or end it swiftly, but he could never seem to do that, especially when it came to his Meister.
It couldn't be healthy for them, the way they went after each other, but for some reason, neither of them tried to stop it. He didn't know what that meant, but it probably meant they were pretty fucked up.
Which is how his morning ended up a battlefield over frying bacon and raw eggs. He'd gotten out of there quickly, before his Meister remembered that they had a drawer full of knives just waiting there, and he made his way to Shibusen, even though he had been graduated for a few years, to continue his internship with Death Scythe.
He knew he couldn't escape his Meister there, either. After she'd graduated, she hadn't even officially walked out the door as a non-student before they'd offered her a job teaching the Soul Perception block. Hiding out at Shibusen wasn't exactly the safest, but it usually bought him some time before she cooled down. Usually, by the time they'd climbed up those stairs, they weren't half as mad as they thought they were.
Upon passing the final stair, Soul was relieved to realize this trick hadn't changed, and his anger had ebbed away to the point of a distant memory. He didn't care anymore, it was enough. Next time he saw her, he'd apologize, and that would be that.
Walking into the building, he heard a shuddering breath, then a sniff, before the sound of crying hit his ears. He froze, not entirely sure what to do, crying had never been something he knew how to handle. Usually, when Maka cried, he just held onto her until she stopped, she somehow managed to find comfort buried in his arms. Deciding that he couldn't leave well enough alone, he followed the sound of the crying, until he found a student pressed up against the wall.
He knew who she was. Blaine, 13, she was a Weapon, paired with one of the snarkiest mother fuckers Soul had ever encountered in his life. (He didn't even feel bad bitching about a kid. From what Maka had told him, none of the other teachers really cared for him either.) As much of an asshole as the kid was, Blaine was pretty nice, a Morning Star club with spikes when she transformed, basically making her partner a common day knight.
Soul walked up to the girl, and she lifted her eyes up at him, obviously embarrassed to be caught crying. "H-hi Mr. Death Scythe." It took Soul a minute of looking around for Spirit to realize that she was talking to him.
"Yo. Why the water works kid?"
"Just…I got into another fight with my partner." She mumbled, eyes on the ground. "All we do anymore is fight, it's getting to be really tiresome. I don't know what to do, I mean, good pairs, they don't fight. They get along, and that's what makes them good, right?"
The elder Weapon scoffed, and shook his head. "Not even a little. Kid, everyone fights with their partner, all the time. It can't be avoided."
"But…you and Miss Maka never seem to have any problems."
Soul sent her one of his signature shark toothed grins. "Me and Miss Maka have nothing but problems. But we fix them, and that's what make the partnership work. You have to want to fix these things. And listen, your partner is a dick-"
"I know."
"-But he's still your partner, and I know you care about him, so you go fix it. And the next time this happens, you fix it again. Because that's what makes everything work. You have to want to fix it."
Blair chewed her lip for a second before she smiled up at him. "Thanks Mr. Death Scythe."
"Anytime." Soul grinned, and helped her up, so she could wander back to her partner. He stood there for a while, after she was gone, pressed up against the same wall she had been. "So, you just gonna hide there like we're 13 again?" He called to the corner, and Maka finally walked out, sheepish smile on her face.
"Didn't know what to say."
"Yeah, me either."
"You know I love you, right?" She offered, out of nowhere, and Soul lifted an eyebrow. "I mean, I do. That's no excuse for all the fighting, but I think that's why I always end up at your door after. I don't know how else to deal, and I'm sorry for that, but I do love you."
Soul smirked at the ground. "It's not like I'm any better, I can't walk away from a freakin' fight, I just keep going with it. But I don't ever want to walk away from you, I think that's why. I don't want to be like everyone else and walk away. I do that, because I love you. I obviously need to find a new way to show that, but I love you, because you're a freakin' dumbass, and I can't lose you."
She went to him then, arms wrapping around his waist, his head in her hair, and he knew they'd be fighting again, there was no way they could stop, but it wouldn't be like it had been, it would always have the sense of getting better. Neither of them was willing to give the other up, regardless of whatever they screamed at each other.
That's what made them Shibusen's dream team. They would always be able to fix it.
Because, would Soul take Maka's shit time and time again to make her feel better? Yes. Yes he would. Without a thought.