"Maka?" Soul called as he turned the front door knob to their apartment. He took a step inside and stopped, for normally he was greeted by his meister as soon as he got home from a Death Scythe mission.

But this time, there was no pigtailed girl bouncing down the hall from her bedroom and happily yelling his name. There were no tiny arms thrown around his neck, telling him how happy she was to have him home. There was no five-inch-wide dictionary chucked at him for not being careful enough.

Instead, there was dead silence.

"...Maka?" he said again. He draped his jacket over the back of the couch and proceeded down the hall toward her room.

He may not have been able to see souls like Maka could, but he could certainly feel his partner's trembling soul wavelength through the door.

He knocked softly on the door and waited a moment for a response.

There was a quiet whimper, and he could hear the springs in her bed creak. Soon enough, the door swung open to reveal a red-eyed Maka. She was in her pajamas, and as usual, her hair was in its signature pigtails, with few loose strands of hair stuck to her tear-stained face. She looked up at Soul, and her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

"S-Soul!" she squeaked. "Y-You were supposed to come home tomorrow!"

"I finished earlier than expected," he explained. "What, you're not happy to see me?"

"No, of course I am!" she said quickly, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I just w-wasn't expecting you to be home yet..."

"And you thought you could get one more night of crying yourself to sleep before I came home, right?"

She slowly nodded, and Soul began to feel the wetness seep into the fabric of his shirt.

"You knew I'd be coming home, right?" Soul asked, returning her embrace tightly.

"Y-Yeah, but you're a Death Scythe..." she mumbled. "The missions you go on a-are dangerous, and..."

"And what?"

"And I'm scared that someday, y-you won't come back..." she said, crying even harder than before.

"Yeah, Maka. I'm a Death Scythe. And that means I'm one of the strongest weapons out there. I can handle this."

"But what if something happens?" she sobbed.

"Nothing will, I promise. Okay?" he said sincerely, pulling away from her and smiling at her. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "You created a pretty cool Death Scythe, Maka."

She giggled. "Sorry...for crying."

"Do you do this every time I'm gone?"

"Yeah, but normally it's not this bad," Maka said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I've been having mood swings lately..."

"Ah, I get it," Soul said, grinning. "Stomach cramps too?"

"Yep," Maka sighed.

"Hold on a sec." Soul said and disappeared from the doorway. He soon returned and stood in the hallway, a blanket draped over his shoulder and a bag of chocolate in his hand. "Come on, you can pick a chick flick or something to watch."

Smiling, Maka walked to the living room and sat down next to Soul, leaning into his side and resting her head on his shoulder. He pulled the blanket around the two of them and opened the bag. He unwrapped a small chocolate bar and popped it into Maka's mouth.

"Better?" he asked.

"Definitely," Maka confirmed, and closed her eyes.

AN: Whew! My first one-shot! w Hope you enjoyed~!