Hiya! I know I should be working on I Never Thought but that story is just a series of one-shots that come to me whenever _
This, I wrote a long time ago. I don't even know where the idea for this started, but it just sort of came out? I guess lol
Please enjoy
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater
Strangers in Need AU
"This is my stop." The driver pulled off to the side of the road, stopping a discrete distance from the restaurant he was aiming for.
"Are you sure, sir?"
"Absolutely." The passenger slipped the driver the correct amount of money, tipping the cabbie more than the average passenger could. "Thanks."
"No, thanks you." The man got out of the cab, inwardly rolling his eyes as the driver counted the cash greedily. The man continued to walk down the sidewalk, adjusting his tie nervously. Family dinners were not often things he, ah, for lack of a better word, enjoyed. The majority of it was spent praising his brother; while the other half dealt with Wes desperately trying to engage his little brother in conversations the boy wanted nothing to do with. Most days, he would look for excuses to avoid the sessions, but today Wes had said there was an announcement to be made and their parents had threatened Soul that not coming could risk things he held dear.
Which was useless, of course, because he didn't hold much of anything dear to him these days.
When Soul opened the door of the restaurant, he was surprised to find many people merely waiting for a seat as the whole foyer was crammed with people. He felt like a mad man trying to fight through the throngs of people to ask about his family.
"Do you have any reservations booked under their name?" The maître d' gave Soul a quick glance before burying his face in the reservations book.
"Evans."
"And your name in relation to theirs?"
Soul gave him an insulted look. "I'm their son, Soul Evans."
"You're not on the list, sir." The man peered at him through thick glasses. "Perhaps you have the wrong reservation name."
"I'm pretty sure I know who my family is," Soul glanced at the man's name tag, "Ox."
"Sir, let me be frank with you. I'm very busy with the reservations I've been given, especially concerning high level customers. If you're not on this list, then you're not on the list and I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"Don't worry about it then," he said, annoyed. "I'll go."
He pushed back, escaping through the front door. He shivered, his breath turning to mist before his eyes, and pulled out his phone. He dialled Wes' number grudgingly, and took a breath when it was answered. "Hello?"
"Wes?"
"Soul? Where are you?" Soul heard the clinking of wine glasses and laughter from people in the back ground. "Mother and Father are getting anxious. They truly intend for you to be at the restaurant."
"Well, they can- Wait, just be there?"
"Soul, if this is another one of your loop hole-finding schemes then so help me-"
"Don't worry about it, Wes. I'll be there."
"Soul-"
He hung up the phone and placed it back in to his pocket, a smile slipping on to his face. If they wanted him there, he would be there.
Soul carefully walked to the alley way beside the restaurant, slipping through the dimly lit path until he reached a side door to the establishment. He scoffed at the 'Do Not Enter' sign and instead pushed the doors open with ease. The door, as it happened, let him in to the kitchen. None of the chefs paid him mind. As he walked through the throngs of workers he was not stopped once. He even sneaked a taste of pasta sauce when a chef wasn't looking.
He was almost out of the kitchen, his plan going flawlessly, till a black haired waitress caught his eye. The girl frowned, clipping the order up before coming over to 'greet' him.
"Excuse me, sir, but I think you're in the wrong area."
No shit. "I'm so sorry," he said instead. "I was on my way to the washroom and I think I've taken the wrong turn.
"Of course you have, sir," said the waitress and her voice instantly became less scolding. "May I have your name so that I can escort you back to your table?"
"Ah, it's Evan-"
"Evan?" she said hurriedly, her face lighting up. "Well, right this way then," the girl said, leading him out of the kitchen. He followed the black haired girl down the lines of tables until he reached, curiously enough, a table set for two.
At the table sat a young woman with the restaurant's menu before her. "Tsubaki, don't worry about me," she said, her head still down. "He's not coming. Just relax and leave me-" Here she glanced up and froze at the sight of Soul. He was equally surprised by her, her youth evident in the brightness of her eyes and the flawlessness of her skin.
"See?" chirped the waitress. "He did come. Ah-" She waved her hand to the man at the front desk before bowing at the girl. "Sorry, Maka, more customers."
"But Tsu-" The waitress had rushed off before the girl could get another word out and Soul smirked at her annoyed expression.
"You should talk faster or something," said Soul with a laugh. "She looks incredibly busy."
"She's everyone's most requested server," she said with a shrug, before gesturing for him to sit down. "You're already here," she said, "so you might as well take a break."
He nodded, sitting slowly. What had seemed like a menu had actually been a black pocket book, no doubt for scheduling of kinds.
"It seems you were waiting for someone else," he said politely, "I don't have to stay-"
"If you need to leave then leave," said Maka, flipping a page of the book, eyes scanning the pages. "I won't stop you."
"Well, someone'squick to get rid of me. What happened to you?"
"Nothing 'happened' to me. I was supposed to meet a guy who never showed up. I couldn't really care less, though, 'cause I was forced to be here."
"So was I." She looked up at this and he got those intense green eyes again. They were oddly familiar, now that he thought about it..."Not for a guy, I mean. I was forced to be here by my brother."
"Your brother, I see..." She glanced down at the book, staring at it intently for a moment before shutting it and returning it to her purse. "You have siblings?"
"No, just him," he said. "My brother is my only sibling."
"Is he older than you?" she asked curiously, hands folded in her lap.
"Yeah, but I try not to think about him."
"Why?" she said, startled. "Siblings are unique in the way that they go through what you are going through. You're made up of the same people."
"My brother has never gone through what I am going through," he said, reaching out and inspecting the wine bottle that still sat on the table. "1990s," he said thoughtfully, spinning it in his hands. "That's pretty good. I hope you did not intend to drink it all on your own."
"I meant to share it with my date, but alas, he failed to show up. You can have some, if you'd like."
He took the wineglass to his right and proceeded in filling it with the liquid, Maka's eyes on him.
"Your name isn't Evan, is it?" she asked cautiously.
"No, ma'am," said Soul, before taking a leap of faith and leaning in, "but I'm probably much nicer to look at." She mumbled something under her breath before taking a sip of her own wine while Soul laughed. "Did I hear what I think I just heard?"
"Of course not," she said, but the nervous blush from being caught put colour in her cheeks.
"Are you sure? Because I think you just agreed with me."
"And I think you are mistaken," she said, returning her glass to the table and flashing Soul an annoyed look. "Besides, I asked for a name."
"It's Soul." She frowned at that, tilting her head to the side in a way that Soul thought was rather cute.
"Soul?" she asked. "Is that your real name?"
"Well, it's on my passport and my driver's licence, so I'd hope it's my real name."
"Sorry," she said, sounding sheepish, "it's just a very uncommon name. Still," She looked him over, "I think it suits you."
"Do you really?" he mused, taking a sip of wine himself.
She nodded. "So what brings you here? I don't suppose you're on a blind date too?"
"A blind date would be much more enjoyable than what I was supposed to be here for," he said with annoyance, and he watched her brow furrow. "Family dinner," he said as an explanation.
She nodded knowingly. "I don't know if this is too intrusive, but are they divorced?"
"No, actually. Some days I think they'd be better off as, but that probably would have made me a worse person."
"Or a better one," she said with a small smile. "However I think that if they've lasted this long together then it's a good sign."
"I take it yours are divorced?"
She stiffened slightly before relaxing, turning the wine glass at its base. "Yes, when I was younger; but I believe myself to be better because of it."
"Well you probably don't look much different," he said, "but I've read that it's likely to have affected your psyche."
"I highly doubt that," she scoffed. "I moved past the divorce, lived on my own for a few years, and went into journalism. My life's only gone up."
"While those sound great, but not perfect. Did you live alone for university? Like, rent an apartment or something?"
"No," she said simply, "for high school."
Soul almost choked on the wine in his throat, coughing out an apology. This…girl had been out on her own for what seemed like forever already. "So you've been basically living alone for ten years?"
"About that, yeah," she said, and he felt more amazed than ever. Ten was just a guess, but it had been close to the truth. "I worked two jobs to help pay for rent. You would have moved out too if your parents were like mine."
"You had it rough, that's for sure," he said, watching the blood tint her cheeks again.
"I guess," she said, "but as I said, I'm a much better person now. I'm more responsible and I can manage my finances better than anyone in their forties."
"That's impressive, I've got to admit. But assuming you lived in his neighbourhood, the rent would have been way too expensive for a high school student on minimum wage. Unless you were a stripper or something." She kicked his leg under the table. He jumped and almost shouted out loud at the injury. "What?"
"That was rude," she said, extremely embarrassed now, "take it back."
"Alright, alright," he said, frowning. "But that's going to leave a bruise."
"I don't care. You deserved it." He rolled his eyes. "And for the record, my father was giving me monthly payments as well." When she said this, her whole mood seemed to shift, changing in to something darker. Someone most definitely had daddy issues. "He felt obligated to. Have you ever felt that with your parents?"
"My parents compared me to my brother often as a child," he admitted with a shrug. "I always saw what they did as obligatory when it came to my playing; I knew how desperately they wanted to give up.
"But I was their son, and my elder brother prompted them continuously to try and understand myself and my music."
"You play an instrument?" she asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up. He groaned inwardly, praying she wouldn't be one of those girls; the ones that clung to the 'artistically gifted' and tried to get them to show off their talents publically. As if sensing his change of mood, she sobered slightly, a curious expression overtaking her features. "What? You don't want to talk about it?"
"I'd rather not," he said cautiously. Saying he'd 'rather not' talk about it was an understatement; he hated talking about the piano. He wasn't about to let a girl he'd known for about ten minutes learn his back story.
But the girl didn't put up much of a fight, shrugging her shoulders and taking the wine glass to her lips. "Suit yourself," she said instead, draining what was left in her cup. "I can't say I blame you. It's probably a messy story."
"Did you say you were in to journalism?" he asked, leaning in curiously, "Some reporter you would be if you let all the people you interview brush you off like this."
"For your information, I am an actual reporter," she said hotly, "and this is not work related."
"Of course not," Soul said, challenge in his voice. "Not yet, anyway. Press are everywhere these days. For all I know, you could be one of them."
"One of them?" Soul leaned back in his chair, accomplished. "You make reporters sound like parasites, not to mention that you're not so important that you need interviewing."
He ignored her last comment, saying instead, "All the ones I know are. Can you prove that you aren't the same?"
"I-" She stopped short, giving him a glare. "That is a trick question."
"Really?" He tilted his head, a condescending smirk slipping onto his mouth with ease. "And why is that?"
"Because I can't explain it without physically showing you that I do background checks or always have a tape recorder on me."
"You have a tape recorder?" he asked, but she carried on, eyes blazing.
"I have no physical evidence that you could fault me for as you seem to enjoy challenging me and I wouldn't doubt that you'd ask me for it."
"That's pretty accurate," he said, "but that doesn't really amount to much with me since you're clearly not like them."
"But then why-" she spluttered
"You just gave me a clean checklist when you listed those things just now, and the wise look in your eyes shows desperation to get your point across. Feigning innocence is easily detectable for me, so you either feign innocence all the time or are genuinely an honest person. You won't dig in to my back story, too, because there's nothing to tell and there's a side of your own story that you'd rather keep hidden." He smirked at her awestruck expression. "A course in Psychology would probably do you some good, you know. It's the one Uni class I can honestly say I never fell asleep in."
"Well then that makes one of us. When I took that course, I fell asleep often. At the time, I was working a night shift so it was a lot rougher than it should have been, but the professor's voice was the one thing I could easily fall asleep to. Especially since he got off topic often."
"Law wasn't that bad."
"Yeah, only when he finally got subbed for-" She stopped short again, the white haired man before her garnering a smirk once more. "How did you know Law was my teacher?"
"Shibusen University is the most well known in this entire city. Not to mention that I went there myself."
"Actually?" she asked, a look of excitement in her eyes. "But," she peered at him curiously, "are you my age?"
"That depends. I'm 26," he said, "but you don't look all that old."
"24," she said with a small smile, "and I'm sure I look my age, Soul."
"Nah, you look at least 20; maybe 21."
"I do not look that young." She scoffed to herself, "It's like high school all over again."
"Why? People said you looked young?"
"They said I looked like a preschooler," she huffed darkly, and he laughed loudly, disrupting a couple a few tables away. They glanced over with annoyance and Maka tried to apologize with a smile. "You're such an upset," she said, miffed at how much amusement he was getting out of her comment. When he didn't settle down, she kicked his chair angrily, which seemed to work. "I wore pigtails, alright?" He opened his mouth to laugh again but muffled them in his sleeve at Maka's sharp look.
When he calmed down a little, he got out, "Why?"
"It was a personal preference," she said, sounding more embarrassed than upset. "Anyway, ever since then, I decided I'd tie my hair up or let it stay down. But to be honest, I'm thinking of just cutting it all off. It's been getting pretty bothersome theses days," she said, fingering a thin, ash coloured bundle of hair that spilled over her shoulders.
"Leave it long," Soul said instead, and Maka's eyes were on him once more.
"Hmm?"
"I think you should leave it long," he said, watching her watch him with curious eyes. "You look prettier that way." Her face filled with colour before him, and he merely sipped his wine with patience. She was rather cute when she was flustered. The more he got to know this stranger, the more interesting she became to him.
"I'll…keep that in mind," she said softly, her eyes suddenly finding the cotton table cloth fascinating.
"Good," he said before frowning as a new thought seemed to enter into his mind. "How long have you been here again?"
"Like on Earth or…"
He raised an eyebrow at her words and she gave a small smile. "I mean waiting for you date."
"Oh." Maka pulled a silver cell phone out of her purse and checked the time. "About an hour."
"An hour? You waited for this Evan guy for an hour? He was so not worth it."
"And you know this, why?"
"Because he'd not here. No man should stand up a woman in any generation. It's just not cool. Such shame," he said, shaking his head with mock disapproval. Maka smiled wider, and Soul took it as a sign that she was not unhappy with him. "Why have you stayed here this long for such a good for nothing guy?"
"My friend is a waitress here," she said, with a tone that suggested that it explained everything. 'There's supposed to be this hot-shot basketball player coming in later this evening and he requested her. She was really surprised because apparently they've never really talked before since she's only been his server once before, but she isn't one to refute the customer. Plus, I think she might like him, or at least, I hope she will, so she set up this date for me. We were both supposed to be able to 'meet a guy' while still being able to talk to one another about it. She said I was really uptight too and this way, I could have fun and so could she. But to be honest, I don't know if I can handle awkwardly sitting here much longer."
"We were awkwardly sitting together?"
"No. I didn't mean us," she said, desperation for his understanding suddenly essential again. "I meant before when you weren't here. I wasn't really thinking about you." He raised an eyebrow. "I mean, I wasn't thinking about you in the sense that it was awkward, I mean," she let out a resigned sigh, "I feel like I'm making this worse." She sounded hopeless and he felt a laugh in his throat.
"Don't worry. You don't bore me either," he said, "but I must say that your friend is right. You seem very uptight for a girl in your twenties."
"But I'm not uptight," she protested, green eyes flashing. "Just because I'm not interested in dating doesn't mean I'm uptight."
"Girls in their twenties generally date, yes, but that's not what I meant. You just look very on edge."
"No, I don't," she replied immediately, and he tilted his head, giving her a questioning look.
"Really? Because if you weren't on edge you wouldn't have answered that fast." The girl narrowed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. "And don't get me started how you always want things to go your way."
"No, I-" He challenged her with a smirk until she caved. "Alright, fine, a little bit. But it's for a good reason."
"In what way is being a control freak a good thing? What reason would be good enough to explain that?" She was quiet and he smiled internally, pleased. He had bested her this time, the look on her face showed that much, but the shadows in her eyes told him that he had touched on something far deeper than just her seemingly irrational need for control. "You've probably just got a crazy case of OCD," he said, trying to lighten the mood, and her eyes.
"I most definitely do not have OCD," she said, laughing. "I know a guy who does though and, compared to him, I am the most unorganized, least controlling person you will ever meet."
"He must be one crazy guy then."
"He is, but he's alright most of the time." She smiled at her wine glass fondly. "He has a good heart."
A curious question bubbled to Soul's lips but he fought it down. After all, she was technically a stranger, and it was not his business. There was, to his misfortune, something in him that very much wanted to make it his business.
"Ah- I just realized; you knew my teacher's name. How did you know about that?"
Soul smirked and leaned back in his chair coolly. Now she was the curious one again; balance had been restored. "We had that class together."
"We did? But that's not possible!"
"Why would you say that?"
"Because I-" She stopped herself, glaring at him, cheeks filling with colour.
"Because you what?" He leaned forward, his eyes amused with the emotions that flitted across her face in that moment. "I want to know."
"No, Soul."
"Oh, come on. If it's embarrassing, I want to know. Did you do something in Psyche that you wanted to know? You fell asleep half a billion times, all of which I was present for, so don't worry. And no, you don't sleep talk," he said, winking playfully.
"Ugh. That's so stupid. I know I don't sleep talk." She rested her elbows on the table top. "I just…I would have remembered you if you were in my class. And I don't."
Soul was unsure what to make of a comment like that. Assuming it meant what he believed it did, then he should not have been as excited as he was. He got compliments like that a lot from women. But getting them from Maka felt like actually getting a compliment about himself. Not on piano, or physical appearance, but about himself. His chest warmed and he felt proud. Of course, she could have very well meant that his white hair was so stark and abnormal that she could not have forgotten it. But the first one was more likely, for the mere reason that he could sense nervousness in her at the confession which included the shifting of her eyes, red cheeks and the fiddling of fingers.
"You sat a few seats ahead of me and you generally fell asleep. I'm not surprised you don't remember me. Although," he added slyly, "we only had 20 some people in that class."
"Shut up," she said, embarrassment evident in her face. "I didn't learn anything in that course. I was lucky the prof took pity on me."
"He was too distracted with his own monologues to realize you'd fallen asleep anyway," laughed Soul to himself, before glancing around. He gestured to a nearby table. "Are you hungry?"
She wrinkled her nose. "I am, actually, but the stuff here is crazy expensive."
"I'll pay then, don't worry," he said mildly, signalling for Tsubaki to return.
"I couldn't do that," she said hastily. "It's your money. I can't-"
"It's an offer, Maka," said Soul, refilling their wine glasses. "And offer that you should honour. Although, you can't exactly refuse it either."
"Of course I can. Tsubaki is my friend. She wouldn't let you do that."
"Really? Because if she truly was your friend, allowing me to pay for you would appear the best thing to do, no?"
She shot him a dirty look as Tsubaki reappeared, a bright smile on her face. "Hello, Maka; Evan. How can I help you?"
"It's Evans actually," he said, "but I was wondering if you could bring us some menus?"
"Absolutely," gushed Tsubaki, retrieving them from the front desk in record time. "Here you are."
"Thank you," Soul said politely, while Maka scowled openly at his actions. "It won't take long; I promise."
"Alright then," she said, adding in another smile. "I'll be back in a moment."
"You are such a faker," Maka remarked, once Tsubaki was far enough away. "You shouldn't do that to someone so innocent."
"If men didn't know when to be kind, they would have died out a long time ago," Soul protested.
"It's like wearing a mask," she said brusquely. "That's not something to be proud of."
"If men were blatantly honest, you women wouldn't find us nearly as attractive."
"I'll have you know that most women enjoy knowing about their partner," she said, annoyed, "especially if they turn out to be lying scumbags in the end."
"Well somebody's bitter." She flinched, surprised at her own ferocity at the mention of honesty. "I'm not saying that every guy is like that, Maka, it was just a generalization. Does it bother you that much?" She flushed, embarrassed that she had let her emotions get the best of her. For some reason, she felt the inexplicable need to prove to him that she was right.
"It's my opinion, and it's totally valid."
"Not really. Opinionated things don't reflect truth rather than reflect our biases and feelings. Someone must have done something to make you more sensitive to this."
"That's none of your business."
"I'll take that as a yes." He surveyed her carefully over his menu, taking in her expressions with interest. This had been the touchy subject he had brushed upon earlier. Perhaps it would make itself known to him another day. "But I'm not one to pry. Don't worry about it."
"It's not a matter of prying," she started with a frown, but he cut her off with a simple wave of his hand.
"Isn't it? You ask for honesty but you yourself refuse to give it. What kind of give-and-take is that?" Maka's visage soured. "Now that's attractive."
"Why are you still on my case?" she asked irritably, "I've got problems; I get it?"
"Do you get it? Do you really?" He could sense the stubbornness in her; the intense desire to never give up, even when it was clear that he had the upper hand. "Explain your side of it to me, then. Convince me that you are right."
"Right now?" she asked, seemingly surprised at his openness to the idea.
"Sure. Call it an intellectual debate if it makes you feel better about it." He grinned. "It'll be nice to actually have a solid conversation for a change."
"I agree," she said, preparing herself for her conversation. "It'll be nice."
:SOUL:EATER:
"Do you really have to hash this out here?"
Maka blinked twice, confused. "Hash what out?"
"This is a restaurant and you guys have been getting more and more heated." Soul made it known that he took full credit for that, which Tsubaki clearly ignored. "I think it's making the other guests uneasy," Tsubaki continued quietly, nervously looking around at the other patrons. While most of them had a sour expression, there were some old couples who merely laughed at the pair's passion, seeming to find the debate more interesting than obnoxious.
"Are you really?" posed Soul lightly, swirling the water in his cup. He had long since traded in his wine for water, be it to lighten his wallet or to sober himself up, she did not know. "Well, I'm sorry if we're causing a disturbance."
Maka shot him a dirty look before smiling up sheepishly at her friend. "We really are sorry. We'll tone it down."
"Thanks," the girl said, "and, um, Maka? I actually need to talk to you. In private, if you don't mind. Can you, I mean…?"
"Um…" She looked nervously at Soul, and the man shrugged, eyes watching her with lazy interest.
"Go ahead. You don't need my permission," he said, waving them on. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."
Maka gave him a smile before getting up and moving to a desolate corner of the restaurant. It was a little past either, and patrons were beginning to leave, bus boys in their wake to clean up. "What's up, Tsubaki?"
"Evan is here," she hissed, pointing discreetly at the front. "I told Ox that Evan was here already but then Evan showed up again. I'm so confused, Maka, so please just tell me the truth," she said, taking hold of Maka's hands tightly. "Who's with you at the table? And who's the guy at the front?"
"Well…" She threw a glance at Soul before breathing in and relating the truth. Upon finding out that Evan was truly Soul Evans, she gasped in surprise. "But I don't think I would have enjoyed myself at dinner with him."
"That's not true," said Tsubaki timidly. "Besides that, Soul Evans is a complete stranger. It was my mistake that I sat you down to dine with a stranger. Oh my, I'm so sorry, Maka."
"Don't be sorry," said Maka. "I…enjoyed myself."
"Did you really?' she asked slowly. "Are you sure?"
"Of course," said Maka, "but I suppose I'll have to explain this to Evan, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Thanks, Tsubaki," Maka said sweetly, before retuning to her companion, the man currently making jokes with another server.
"And then he totally tanked the shot and fell flat on his face," Soul was saying, the waiter laughing. The man looked rather young, with dark skin and sharp glasses that made him look clever.
"Man, I wish I could have been there," sighed the waiter. "It sounds epic."
"It was," said Soul, eyes bright, "but 'Star had it coming. He'd been gloating all night and it was about time he made a fool of himself." That was when Soul noticed Maka and he extended a hand, gesturing to the man beside him.
"Maka, this is Kilik. We were friends were in university. Kilik, this is Maka, my date." He didn't hesitate before adding that last word and she felt her face heat without warning.
"Hi," Kilik said, sticking out a hand for her to shake. She did. "It's nice to meet you. How come I've never met her before, Soul?"
"Why should I have to introduce her to you? You've got your hands full with your twins, no?"
"Twins?" Maka inquired and Kilik nodded, putting a hand into his pocket and drawing out his wallet. He then opened it, revealing a picture of two young children.
"My sister's. She passed away when they were younger so I look after them now."
"That's really sweet," said Maka, her hands moving to lift her purse from the side of her chair. "Um, Soul, I actually have to go and do something really quick. I-"
Soul shrugged again, but this time he looked rather resigned. "Go then."
She moved slowly, unsure of whether she should leave him or not anymore, before Tsubaki's frantic hand signals behind his back became more urgent. She quickly when to her friend's side, following the girl out and in to the lobby where Ox and another man, who was no doubt Evan, stood, the pair bickering over something.
"Ox, she's here," said Tsubaki nervously, and Ox huffed with impatience.
"About time," Ox said, annoyance evident. "Maka please explain to this man that Evan has already arrived?"
"Um, actually, Ox, this is the real Evan."
"But Tsubaki said-" protested Ox, eyes going to the young waitress with intensity.
"I know what Tsubaki said, Ox," said Maka, her friend cowering behind her, "but she didn't know till a little earlier, so don't blame her." Maka turned to face Evan then, and noticed that he looked completely different than Soul. The boy had blonde hair and brown eyes, a flip from Soul's white hair and dark eyes. He was about the same height as her, with soft features that made him look more youthful. In fact, he looked rather familiar...
"You're Maka, right?" She nodded. "My name's Evan. I'm Hiro's brother."
That was who it was. Evan reminded her of Hiro; conceited, self-absorbed Hiro. "Oh, hi."
"Yeah, hi. I can't help but notice that you don't look all that glad to see me. I've heard from this man here that I have already gotten here when I have certainly just arrived. Could you explain that to me?"
"Well, I met someone whom my friend thought was you, but his last name is Evans. It's close, but he's isn't you." She looked him over and found that he looked rather worn out. "Why were you late?"
"About that…" Evan scratched the back of his neck nervously, something that, Maka noticed suddenly, Soul did often as well. "I went to grab some flowers, but they were closed. On top of that, I missed the train to come down here so I decided to run but as you can see, I didn't make it on time.
"But all things considered, Maka, you look like you've enjoyed your evening. This Evans guy seems to be a friend of yours too." He smiled. "I think you should spend the rest of the night with him."
"Evan-"
"I'm serious," he said, smiling sweetly. "On my way in, I saw you through the window and I remember thinking that you looked really happy."
She stared at him in shock. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely," he said with another smile. "Oh! Here." He handed her a flower from his pocket, which she took happily, her lips tugging upwards.
"Thank you."
He grinned before looking down at a watch that sat faithfully on his wrist. "I have to get back home. My brother will wonder where I am."
Maka smiled again and gave Evan a peck on the cheek, to which he blushed profusely. "Thank you."
He nodded, bowed politely, and then left out the same way he came in. Maka sighed at the flower, stroking its petals before returning to Tsubaki, her thoughts on Soul.
"So that was the guy?"
"Mhmm." Maka twirled the flower in her hand. "I can just imagine what Liz would say."
"So can I," laughed Tsubaki, the pair turning the corner to go back to her table. However, the table was empty upon their return. "Where is he?"
"I don't know…" she said, feeling more disappointed than she should have. She barely knew this man, yet the empty feeling at his disappearance persisted. "He was probably busy. I mean, what person in their right mind sits with a complete stranger for two hours?"
"You did," Tsubaki pointed out, and Maka was surprised to find that she was right. She had sat there for hours just talking to him, and she had enjoyed herself.
And she'd never see him again.
"Maka?" Kilik asked, breaking her from her thoughts. "Are you looking for Soul?"
"Um, yeah, I was." She gave a sad smile. "I guess he had to go, though."
"Yeah, he did. He had to see his parents, but he's already paid for the meal. He told me to give you this, though, when you came back to the table." Kilik's hand dived into his side pocket and pulled out a thin slip of paper. He handed it to Maka and bid her farewell. Maka fingered the paper thoughtfully and was about to open it when she heard Tsubaki call out her name.
"Hey, Tsubaki. Where'd you run off to?"
"Ox just told me that the guy that wanted to meet me rescheduled and is going to come back another day. I'm so sorry that I made you stay for nothing."
"It's alright." Maka smiled widely at her friend and slipped on her jacket, relishing in the feel of soft cotton on her bare arms. "I had fun anyway."
"You did? With that Evans guys?" Tsubaki smiled. "I'm glad. Maybe you'll see him again."
"Maybe," said Maka, tightening her grip on the paper. "Well, I'm going to head home now. You have fun with the rest of your shift though, alright?"
"No, Maka, just wait. Kilik's giving me a ride home after work anyway. He can-"
"Don't worry about it, Tsubaki, I promise." She walked towards the door, bidding her friend and Ox farewell, before stepping on to the street, hailing a cab to take her own. Once it arrived, the settled into the seats, staring out the window before remembering that the piece of paper was still in her hand. She folded it open and read the contents carefully before a smile broke onto her face.
Leave it to a stranger to make her night.
How was it? Okay? Not too OOC, was it?
Please R&R
NOTE: This has been revised and has resulted in an 'update'. I didn't technically intend for there to be a partnered chapter or chapters to this one, but I may change my mind.
