a/n: completely inspired by stromae's very french tune 'papaoutai'. i'm completely obsessed with his album. what an artist.

Despite the façade she put up, sometimes she found herself expecting things- normal things to just about anyone else- but, for her, those things would never be anything tangible.

One time she'd expected him to do something other than just go to Chupa Cabra's when her best friend was lying there on that infirmary mattress, his shaking hands with the blackness of death before telling it to piss off. She'd thought that maybe he would stop targeting him when he realized how important he was to her- not just as her weapon partner, but as her friend, as her confidant, as that… thing she still couldn't put a title on yet, because she knew her face would burst into flames- but that wasn't the point.

She hadn't hoped, she'd expected him to be decent and give her something she might actually use- like a book- for getting the top marks on the written exams; the 'Super Test' as their then-new Professor Stein had dubbed it. Furthermore, she'd expected him to give her the gift himself. Maybe she would have Maka-chopped him into a coma- okay, she definitely would have Maka-chopped him as hard as she possibly could if he'd been there when she'd opened that vulgar gift and equally as revolting card.

Did he think she was like him? Did Papa think that Maka wanted to spend her life in clubs, being anonymously intimate with a ridiculous number of people? Did he know anything about her? She was a very single, very teenaged virgin, for Death's sake!

But still, she hoped that he would know her well enough to know that she had been affected by Mama and his divorce, just like many kids who were in a similar situation. And her cheating Papa had taught her that intimacy shouldn't be so loose. It should be special, it should be actual intimacy, not that caricatured version Papa had left her thinking of.

Maka had hoped that he would send her genuine cards on holidays, not the 'I LOVE YOU AND YOUR MAMA, MAKAAAAAAAAAA!' followed by a bunch of hearts and illustrations of her father with heart-shaped eyes, ending with a 'LOVE, YOUR PAPA,' which almost always had a lipstick mark next to it, most certainly from one of the girls at Chupa Cabra's. Her suspicions had been confirmed when the return address on the card was the one for Chupa Cabra's. Clearly he'd had too much sake when he'd written it, as the scrawl was particularly messy and the meaningless 'I love you's were surrounded by even more incoherent phrases.

And she knew that they meant nothing, because her Mama was always mentioned, and there's no way you could say 'I love you' and really mean it if you are a serial cheater. No one could do that.

But, as she walked around the not-big, but bigger-than-her-and-Soul's-apartment ballroom, she found herself looking for that head of red hair. And, as she realized that she'd scanned the room twice and couldn't feel his soul frequency in the midst of the many in the room, she felt her mouth twist into a disappointed frown. She covered it up by bringing her drink up to her mouth, feeling the carbonated, crisp taste of Sprite hit her tongue, distracting her from her mind for a moment. Where are you Papa?

"What's wrong, Maka?" Soul asked curiously, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

"Nothing, Soul." She responded, her tone a bit too glum for him to believe it.

"Don't lie to me."

"It's not important enough to worry about, Soul, so don't."

"I'm not worried," he countered, his slouch suddenly taking back over his posture with a vengeance, "that's not cool. I just don't want for you to be sad when today's your day."

My day, huh? She felt herself crack half a smile at that idea. If it's my day, then why can't I have what I want? Why can't I have my Mama and Papa back here, back to normal, where Papa is faithful and Mama's here to help me with everything?

"Birthdays are supposed to be fun, Maka. If you keep making faces like that, Tsubaki, Patty, and Liz are going to think that you're unhappy with the party, and then they'll be on your case until you spit out what's bothering you… Either that, or Liz will get mad and try to pounce you-."

"Did you invite my Papa?" She blurted, feeling her face go red.

"Yeah, but Lord Death said that he's on a Death Scythe-only mission in Budapest, so he couldn't make it. Something about a few kishin egg cells that are getting out of hand." He said casually, though she could tell by his furrowed brow that he was confused, but understood that her Papa had to do with her sour mood. "Why? What did he do?"

He didn't do anything, but I'm not surprised that you would ask that; not because you two hate each other, but because you know that all he's done since you've known me is upset me in one way or another. "Nothing, Soul. I was just wondering if I should be bracing myself for him to jump out of nowhere and tackle me with all of his sobbing and stuff. That would be a bad fall, especially with these heels."

"And in a dress. Nice pick. It looks good." He added, and she knew that he was just trying to help her change the subject, but her cheeks coloured anyway.

"Thanks Soul. You cleaned up pretty well, too."

"Well, it's not every day that your partner turns eighteen. I think it's time we do a meister-weapon international mission and take you out for a drink." Soul grinned that sharp-toothed grin at her, clearly wanting to make good on his promise to get her drunk at some point. He'd made that promise when they were fifteen and he'd tried to convince her to try a sip of sake and she'd Maka-chopped him so hard that he saw double Makas for a few hours.

"You are ridiculous, Soul." She pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

"You're just boring," he retorted absently, staring off a bit before he seemed to snap back to reality, "But, hey. I'm sorry your dad couldn't make. He really pisses me off, but I know it sucks to not have family around." He mumbled, throwing his arm over her shoulder and bringing her in for one of his 'cool' hugs, which quickly just turned into a full hug.

"Thanks, Soul."

Papa, where are you?