Okay, so this is just the beginning of this story. Consider it chapter 1.5 as the rest of it is unfinished at the moment. In simpler terms? Chapter one isn't fully completed and so here's part of it. What was going to be a two chapter story is now three. Or even possibly Four depending on how long this gets.

Yeah. Enough rambling.

A Soul Eater story! Why? Because I was tempted to see how well I could do slight romance. Yes. Slight. Nothing like 'OMG! Sex in the kitchen!' or 'Let's slop each other's faces like Labradors!' romance. No. SLIGHT romance.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Soul Eater. ... Or do I? *checks legal papers* Nope. Guess not.

Why had he agreed with this? What in his mind has possessed him to go along with this plan? Soul sighed, shoving his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets, the slouch he always carried deepening ever so slightly as he trailed along behind Maka, his tan haired meister, as she roamed through the halls of what could only be the teenager hang out from hell. At least, for anyone who wanted to keep his or her sanity. On the other hand, it was the perfect place to pick up the latest rumors. Yes, rumors. Not gossip. A cool guy like him never gossiped.

Indeed, they were at the mall. The torturous two-story place from hell for any guy on a shopping date with his girlfriend. Not like he was! Oh no! God forbid he be on a date with Maka! The reason he had even considered coming here in the first place was because of what he had been told before hand.

Why were they here, then? He had been told they were going to meet everyone else, but that wasn't for another two hours. There was only one explanation for this and there was no way he was willing to admit it at the moment. Had she really done this to him? Had Maka really done the one thing no cool guy ever did?

When he saw where she paused, he knew his hunch was correct. They were clothes shopping. Clothes. Shopping. Soul had half a mind to leave her, to just slink off in the direction of the nearest game store, but that would mean a Maka Chop to the head and that was the last thing he wanted. Were they even going to meet the gang like he had been told? Or was that all a lie?

"Soul! Hurry up!" she called out from the entrance to a store, looking slightly irritated that he had fallen behind.

Could she really blame him? Could she? Reluctantly, he slunk his way into the store, barely giving it a look over in the process. Well, at least there was a section of guys clothing he could hide in until they were leaving to head over to the next store. Ignoring the overly cheery hello from the overly preppy cashier, he split from Maka, making his way to the hoodies and jackets. You never know, he might find something here worthwhile.

However, after a mere five minutes of shifting through the minimal selection of guys clothes, it was apparent that the store catered to more of the female gender. The guys section was probably only in there for the guys who got dragged along. And, sadly, Maka wasn't even close to finished. It looked as if she had just started! With a groan he slunk back over to her, leaning against a part of the wall that wasn't covered in accessories.

"I thought we were going to meet everyone at 1," Soul questioned, watching her shift through a rack of shirts.

Maka didn't even glance up at her white haired partner. "We are."

"Then what are we doing here?"

"Kid's planning another party and I need something to wear." Here, Maka ditched the circular line of clothes any five year old and Black Star would kill to play in, making her way to another that Soul swore held the exact same clothes as the previous one.

Again, he followed. "Don't you already have dresses and shirts you can wear?" His mind ran through the parties Kid had managed to throw. Yep. She always had something. So why were they shopping again?

"None of those work for the theme of it."

Oh great. They were going to spend two hours, two hours, looking for one outfit for the stupid party. Soul rolled his eyes, tempted now more than ever to leave for the video game store. Or to see if he could track down someone he knew.

"I'm going to try this on. Don't do anything stupid."

What had she-? Soul watched, mouth slightly agape, as Maka trudged over to the fitting rooms. It wasn't him that always got in trouble! Great. This was going to be just great. She was dragging him along on her clothes run and he was being treated like a little kid. He shifted position only to see the fitting rooms better. The quicker she got out the quicker they could leave.

And things were just getting better (you can practically feel the sarcasm there)! Here came preppy cashier lady. "Can I help you find anything?" she asked in that obvious fake cheerfulness. Heck, everything about the lady just screamed fake and plastic surgery. It was what made Soul decide he was never working in a department store. How much was she even getting paid to fake it? Obviously not much.

"I'm just waiting for a friend," came his reply, eyes glancing at the changing rooms. He had answered her question; she could leave now, to go back to that dark deep pit behind the counter to wait to cheerfully thank them for coming. A slight pause. Why wasn't she leaving?!

Arms snaked their way around his waist. Thank God she hadn't pinned his arms to his side, he would have been screwed. Soul put his weight on one leg, leaning away from the overly perfumed cashier. "That boring girl? You'd have more fun with me," purred unnamed girl number 1.

Ignoring her would have been the right choice, the usual way he would have gotten out of this. And Soul couldn't exactly barge in on Maka when she was changing. That would be bad. Bad and he would end up dead. Besides, wasn't there something against this in the employee handbook? Sexual harassment of customers or something like that? Another look was cast at the changing rooms. What was with girls and taking forever to see if some shirt makes them look fat or not?! His coolness was on the line here!

Maka took that exact time to come out of the fitting room, spotting Soul and overly preppy cashier lady. She paused, Soul paused, and the cashier gave her a cattish smirk.

"Maka, it's not what you-!" He never got to finish. Maka stormed over, grabbing his wrist and dragging him out of the store, leaving the smirking female worker behind. She didn't stop walking until they had reached an intersection of halls, the one place you did not want to stop in a busy place. Soul opened his mouth to state his innocence, but Maka looked more distracted than she did pissed. "What?"

"Nothing." She dropped his hand, glancing over a directory.

Nothing meant there was something. Soul sighed, but dropped the subject. It would get him nowhere to argue with her. Once Maka made up her mind there was little to change it. This meant more torture for him in the land of female clothing. He turned his back to her, scanning the crowds while she looked over the store directory. Wherever they were headed next he could bet it wasn't going to be fun for him.

Her hand closed around his arm, dragging him off once again to where ever they were headed next. Escalator. Great. Maka looked happy, though, which was good. A possibly pissed off Maka was never a fun Maka. Soul stood on the moving step, looking down at the slowly growing smaller people. It was only a two-story mall, but it was still plenty big enough. How much more walking were they going to do? Soul nearly tripped as Maka tore him off the escalator before he had completely reached the top. What had gotten her in such a hurry?

Soul matched his pace with Maka's so he wasn't stumbling every step of the way. They weaved through the groups of gathered friends making their way through the halls. Where the heck were they going? He was sure he recognized the path they were taking. The glowing neon sign hanging above the entrance to a store made him realize why it seemed all too familiar. It was his favorite store, the one where he got most of his jackets. There was no way they were heading there. He was kidding himself in thinking that was where Maka was taking him.

However, that was indeed where they were headed. Had she developed some sympathy for him? Had she finally put his sanity before her clothes shopping? This was the greatest moment in his life! "Maka!" choked out the white haired teen.

If she heard, she didn't show it, pulling him along into the store. Maka didn't stop there. Oh no. She proceeded to drag Soul right over to the hoodies and T-shirts, only letting go of his arm when she began shifting through the racks of clothes. What was his meister doing now? Soul hesitated for a moment by her side, wondering for her own sanity before doing his own jacket hunting. He was going to take every golden minute she gave him to look for something of his own, even if technically he didn't need anything.

The weapon scanned the racks of jackets; looking for the colors he liked best. Of course, if it wasn't a cool jacket, it wasn't worth getting, and every little detail would be taken into account before it would be considered. Yes, it might be hypocritical for him to think such a thing while complaining about Maka and her take-two-hours-to-find-a-shirt ways, but he wasn't worried about trying things on or making sure it looked right on him. As long as it looked cool from the hanger, all was good.

And that's exactly what he did. Soul just skimmed through the different colored and styled hoodies, every now and then casting glances in Maka's direction to make sure she hadn't left. There would be no finding her if she did. From what he saw, it looked as if she was grabbing random piles of clothing off the shelves. What had gotten into her?

He sighed, shrugging it off. Whatever it was, Maka could deal with it. Soul was sure. He went back to his searching.

And that was mistake number 2, if you want to be technical. For when Soul took his eyes off of Maka, that's when she attacked. For the third time that day he was ripped away from whatever was at hand and tossed into something else completely. Said something else turning out to be the fitting rooms located in the back of the store.

(AN: I could stop here…..stop here and make you ALL think DIRTY PERVERTED THOUGHTS about what Maka did to Soul, but that would be mean. XD And very hilarious.)

His back hit the mirror strategically placed against the back wall with a thud and the foot wide bench that all dressing rooms had for no apparent reason dug into the back of his legs. What was with her? "Maka!" he started to protest. But, of course, Soul was destined to never get more than that out of his mouth, clothes being tossed and hitting him right in the face.

(AN: AGAIN I could stop here and make you think dirty perverted thoughts that would give me many lols, but I'm not that mean. Not that mean to make characters OOC I mean. Hopefully.)

Reflex made him catch the assortment of fabrics as they fell towards the floor, a glare sent at the girl blocking the only exit out of the small square room. "What the hell, Maka!" came the growled words. What was she planning now? Soul wanted to end the little mall trip right now, and he could, take his bike and just leave Maka here, but that wasn't cool.

She didn't notice his inner battle of to leave her there or not. "Put those on," Maka ordered, shutting the automatically locking door and leaving Soul alone in the small space. "And don't even try to get out of this, Soul!"

He looked down at the clothes in his arms. One color stood out above the rest: a bright hot pink shirt. Hot… pink. Yes, Soul knew mistake number 1 was even agreeing to come in the first place, but he wasn't going to leave Maka alone in a mall where the wolves roamed. Sure, she could take care of herself, he knew all too well that she could, but his conscious (damn the thing) wouldn't let him let her come alone.

Soul would get her back for this. He would. "Who does she think she is ordering me around like that?" he mumbled to himself while dumping the merchandise on the short bench thing. "Maybe if she wasn't so small she could get a boyfriend and leave me the hell out of her shopping plans." If he wasn't frustrated already, the thought of Maka with another guy sure made sure he was.

"If you don't like it then why did you come?" came the angered voice of Maka from beyond the door.

Oh crap. There really was no way to get out of this. He didn't answer her question, just stripped down to his boxers. The pile of new clothes was given a look, Soul hesitating to even touch the pink shirt. Sadly, he had no choice. While he was physically stronger than Maka and could, more than likely, force his way out of the changing room, the consequences for such a thing would be high.

The shirt was slipped on over his scrawny frame, followed by the black denim jeans with a- he shuddered- rainbow belt. He paused here, looking at the one thing he had left to put on, and shifting uncomfortably in the tight pants. A thin dark gray hoodie with a lighter checkered pattern stared back at him. Well, not so much stared at sat there and taunted him. Yes, it taunted him. Soul glanced at the closed door separating him from his freedom before picking up the one thing left he had to put on. It was too restricting compared to what he usually wore, tight around his arms. There was absolutely no way he was zipping it up.

With obvious reluctance, even if no one could see, Soul opened the door to a waiting Maka. He scowled, leaning against the outside wall of his former cage of doom, shoving his hands down into the hoodie pockets. Worst of all was the pockets were barely even deep! He waited with slight impatience, as she looked him up and down before shoving more clothes into his arms and pushing him back into the small square fitting room.

"Wait! Maka!" Soul growled, digging his feet into the carpet. He succeeded in slowing down the rate at which he neared the mirror at the back and the bruise inducing short bench.

"You need something for the party too. Now try those on."

So that was her reasoning behind this torture? What the heck was the theme anyway? He hadn't been told anything past that there was going to be a party at Kid's place tonight and Kid needed help in setting everything up.

He was glad to be getting out of the tight pants and checkered patterned hoodie, as well as that bright pink shirt, but he wasn't exactly looking forward to the other outfits Maka was pushing on him. Soul pushed the pile of his clothes over to one side of the little bench, dropping the new pile, staring at it for a moment. Did he really want to continue with this? Did he? A glance was tossed at the direction of the closed and locked door. He could always toss his clothes on and make a break for it. Soul sighed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn't do that. Not to Maka.

So, once again he was forced into his boxers to try on the other clothes. All were dark hued, save for a red that stood out. Why? Why was she torturing him so? At least this time there wasn't a belt. Soul gingerly picked up the red hued item, looking at the shirt. It was all that red color except for what looked like blood splatters. What in Maka's mind possessed her to think that this was him?

"Hurry up, Soul! There are still other things we have to get!"

"You're the one that keeps tossing things at me," grumbled the teen, pulling the shirt on. It fell loosely around his body. There wasn't a moment's hesitation as he snatched up the only other thing left to pull on: the pants. It felt heavy, and rather thick material, and, of course, black in color. All the pockets gave it a cargo look. He sighed once more, yanking those on and nearly tripping in the process.

Why was he putting up with this again? Oh yeah. Because this was better than being mauled by a Maka Chop and sexually harassed by the cat. Not like that preppy cashier lady had been any better than Blair. Soul shifted all his weight to one leg, ready to go parade himself in the clothing choice of his meister. How long had they even been in here already? It had to be more than twenty minutes. It sure felt like it. Soul brought a hand up, scratching at the back of his neck. He would have to draw the line before she started bringing him women's clothing.

Something fell on his head, obscuring his vision a good portion as a dark material blocked his line of sight, not to mention creating a very strange feeling on the top of his head. "Put that on too," came Maka's voice from beyond the door.

He pulled the hoodie off of his head, moving the headband positioned over his hair and creating a very odd static electric feeling. Soul could hear the sparks crackle as he ran a hand through his hair, fixing the headband before he even gave what his meister had tossed at him a second look. It was black and thankfully not as small looking as the one she had forced him into before. Arms slipped into the sleeves, the hood being adjusted slightly. Yes! He could actually zip this one up without having to suffocate himself! The weapon placed his hands in the pockets, having to keep himself from crying in joy. Sweet deep, deep pockets! He didn't care what Maka said, he was getting this hoodie.

Soul, in his usual slouch, stalked out of the small room once more and to face the tan haired girl. He ignored the looks he got from the other customers, as well as the employees who were getting a kick out of his little fashion show. "Well?"

She shoved more clothes into his arms, a smaller pile this time, but still more torture none the less. "Try these on and then you're done." Soul rolled his eyes, but if Maka saw she never showed. "And give me the hoodie." One hand was held out in front of him, her gaze just daring him to try to argue.

While his grades might not be the best thing in the world, Soul wasn't stupid enough to challenge Maka when she had her mind set on something. So, he shoved the small pile of fabric under one arm to make the job of getting the black hued jacket off that much easier. He dropped it out into her open hand, grumbling all the while he made his way back into the fitting room. If anyone from school found out about this his reputation was ruined. Cool guys didn't take orders. And yet, cool guys didn't leave their meister to fend for themselves in a mall. He was stuck between the two. Damn, being cool was harder than anyone thought.

Taking the red shirt and cargo pants off, Soul was ready to get these clothes on quickly, show Maka, change back into his own, and head on out of the store before someone pulled out a camera. That was the last thing he needed. Red eyes glancing down, he saw that the small bench was filling up with the piles of clothes he had been forced to wear. The checkered pattern jacket, the tight jeans, the cargos, and the blood splattered shirt. All were scattered over the two foot width.

This time, the clothes were a lot better. A basic black tank top that wasn't too loose or too tight, just hanging off of his shoulders and some dark blue hued jeans, fitting as well as the pants he normally wore. Well at least it had gone from worse to better. All the shirts that had gone on and come off were seriously messing with his hair, though. Half heartedly to get the loose strands under control, he left the fitting room for the third time that day.

Maka looked him up and down, taking a moment to think. Well the longer she took the more time the others around them had to find cameras and notify other friends. Oh, she better believe he was going to get something for doing this. A good salmon dinner, perhaps? He barely heard her when she said that that outfit was what they were getting; too busy thinking about what he was going to get out of this. Soul did, however, hear her when she said to put his clothes on and did so in record time. The other two piles were left to fend for themselves on the bench as he left the small space for what was, hopefully, the last time. Oh it felt good to be back in his clothes: that black jacket and yellow-orange shirt, not to mention the brown colored pants.

He dumped the shirt and jeans into her care, going to wait at the entrance to the store. The farther he was away from the back of the store and the changing rooms from hell the least likely he was to end up back in there. His hands subconsciously placed themselves in the pockets of his jacket, eyes watching as she went through the process of checking out. And, of course, the guy at the counter took his sweet time in ringing up the total. Soul could have sworn he saw the guy doing more than just looking at the price of his new clothes, and had to keep his anger in check. Why any guy would look at Maka like that was beyond him! He snorted in irritation, ripping his gaze from the two and looking at the passing groups of friends in the mall hallways.

It was in a short while that Maka decided to join him in the entrance, bag dangling from her wrist. "What was that about?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Was what about?" She didn't even seem to notice, proceeding out of the store and on her way to wherever they were headed next. Probably more clothes shopping.

An exasperated sigh left him. "Never mind." He was annoyed that she just brush it off as nothing. Was that revenge for the cashier lady attacking him earlier? It wasn't like he had asked her to do that! So why was Maka taking it out on him?! It was just like with what happened with Blair at home. Guess he shouldn't be surprised that she'd act that way, but it still bugged him to see that guy look at her like that.

"Where to now?"

"Kid asked if we could pick some stuff up for the party."

Oh great. Just what he needed. Another place to be dragged to. Well, at least it wasn't clothes shopping anymore. Had Maka given up on trying to find something? Soul hoped so. Part of him wanted to know what they would be searching for. Knowing Kid, he wouldn't take anything that wasn't symmetrical. And that would pose a problem when trying to find things. So why had Maka agreed? Probably to be nice.

WOOOOOOOW! I didn't realize how long this single part was! There was only a little bit past this that was done! But instead of leaving you guys off at some really awkward place that made no sense, here's chapter one! ENJOY

Oh, and R and R please. I want to see how good I made this. Or not good. ONLY CREATIVE CRITZ PLEASE! No flames.