Waltzing at Midnight

The moon sat high above Death City, gazing down at the inhabitants as it trekked across the evening sky, the velvet backdrop splashed with stars; the clouds had fled. I was standing alone on the balcony of the DWMA, staring off into the distance. Parties always bored me; nothing cool ever happened. There was good food, friends, singing and dancing; but it all made me feel sick. Just like last year and the year before, I was alone. Fancy parties just aren't my scene. I watched the couples twirl and glide across the dance floor as the band squeaked out a jazzy number. The pianist was the only thing that actually piqued my interest. While he wasn't all that great, he wasn't half bad either. Sure, I was way better than him, but I knew now one wanted to listen to what I had to play.

It had been a year since the Kishin had been released—a year to the day, in fact—and once again we were celebrating that annual founding of the academy: another lame but always entertaining speech from Lord Death, another perfectly precise discourse from Kid; even Black Star tried to steal the spotlight again, only this time it ended not with a fight, but with a Reaper Chop to the skull from Lord Death.

Turning, I looked back through the window to study the awkward shuffling of the couples inside, their bodies moving almost unnaturally as they tried to keep up with the rhythm. When the song ended, there was a light applause, and the pairs of mismatched friends wandered off of the sleek tile floor and towards the buffet while a new group took their place, their shuffling just as awkward and their movements just as unnatural.

Now, I'm not completely pessimistic. I can be a pretty happy-go-lucky guy, sometimes. It's just that every time I come to a social gathering like this, I can't help but feel left out. I don't know why I do, but it never fails: I'm always disappointed.

Always.

One day I stopped and thought about why I acted the way I did. I figured it was jealousy, because my definition of fun usually isn't a day at the fair or an evening at the movies, and it especially isn't a night of ballroom-dancing, suit-and-tie-wearing misery that was more commonly known as a gala. The funny thing is, I know exactly how cool I look in this tux: sharper than a knife and hotter than July. The ladies swoon over me whenever I dress up. The one person that I was trying to impress, however, did not. I'm no flirt, but I'm also not completely oblivious to what's going on, and I'm very aware of what other people think about me. With this person, though, I could write a love note and stick it in their face and they still wouldn't understand.

And there he is.

Of all the stiff and rigid bodies that slipped and creaked across the shining floor of the ballroom, his was the only one that had grace. His was the only one that flowed with the music, and this majestic swaying had captured me. Not only with his dancing, but with everything he did: it was all perfect. Sometimes he would blow up over the smallest scratches in his polished character—a crooked "k", a bad hair day, a stain on his shirt—but to me, he was always perfect.

I know, how pathetic. I'm in love—with The Grim Reaper's son, no less. I keep telling myself that I'm not a romantic, but whenever he's around, but that's a lie. It's hard to keep my composure at times, but I stay cool. Maybe that's why he's never noticed me: he's had no reason to suspect that I've been flirting with him. I don't make it obvious. I have the feeling that Maka is very suspicious of my behavior. She may have even already figured it out, which really doesn't bother me. The only concern I have is if she liked me (which, if she really is a girl—flat-chested or not—she should) then her finding out would probably hurt, which wouldn't be cool at all.

But what can I do about it?

I continued to watch Kid through the large windows as he danced with Liz and Patty, who tried to keep up as he moved effortlessly. For a single moment, Kid's eyes met mine: I froze, my hand pressing against my burning face as I leaned over the edge of the railing. He stopped dancing, and I knew that I had made a mistake. Here I was, daydreaming and not wanting any interaction with anyone, and here came the guy I loved. Sliding open the large glass door and shutting it gently, he stepped outside into the cool air and walked up beside me.

"Soul? What are you doing out here by yourself?" he asked, leaning against the balcony.

"I was just...uh…getting some air, that's all." I was lying, but Kid couldn't tell. I'd been out there for at least an hour, after sitting (or rather, standing) through the speeches and hurrahs at the beginning of the event.

"Oh, ok. Well, it certainly is a beautiful night," Kid said, smiling and turning to look out at the stars that I had just been gazing at. "That breeze feels incredible. It's rather stuffy in there."

"Yeah," was the only word that I could think of to say.

We stood for several minutes without talking, the silence weighing down on us heavily. Finally, I gathered my nerves and spoke.

"So, Kid…you're a pretty good dancer."

"Thanks. Why don't you come in and dance? Maka tells me that you're not too bad yourself."

I didn't know what to say. If I said yes, I would have to endure more jealousy and depression as I naturally separated myself from the group. If I said no, I would be sure to upset Kid or at least evoke his pity that I didn't want.

But Kid didn't need an answer. He grabbed my hand and pulled me back inside as I tried to hide my crimson face, and before I knew it, there I was in the crowd of people I had been trying to avoid. Kid had relinquished my hand and motioned for me to come over to where the rest of our friends were sitting.

"Hey, look who I found," Kid said playfully, pointing with his thumb at my chest.

"It's about time; where were you?" Maka asked. I could tell she was angry, but I didn't really care.

"Just getting some air."

"Yeah, for an hour," she snapped.

Sometimes, I hated that girl.

"Well, he's here now, so why don't we have some fun?" Kid said, breaking up the quarrel. Smiling, she agreed, her attitude making a 180. (I will never understand women and their moods….)

Because Black Star had gorged himself on the free food, Tsubaki decided to sit with him while the rest of us got up to dance. Crona was matched up with Patty (which I found both ironic and hilarious: the emo and the spaz) while Liz and Kid danced together. She was almost as graceful as Kid.

And damn was I jealous.

So that left Maka and I, dancing to the beat of the music: a slow-dance that made me sick to my stomach. It wasn't the fact that I had been forced into a social setting that I didn't want to be in, but rather it was the fact that I was dancing with Maka. Granted, she is a good dancer and, before my personality began to change, we used to dance a lot, there was just something unsettling about having my arm around her waist and her hand placed in mine.

It should be Kid's waist and Kid's hand.

But, for the sake of upholding my alibi, I danced anyway; and when the clock struck midnight and the majority of the students and staff had left, I still danced, losing myself in the music and the movement, forgetting about the problems that I had—at least for that small amount of time. Soon it was just the two couples left on the dance floor: Maka and I, and Kid and Liz.

Every chance I had, I watched Kid, studying him as he moved. By the time the final song had concluded, I had practically memorized Kid's body. Still staring at him as he and Liz separated, I heard Maka clear her throat.

"Soul," she whispered, "you can stop staring at Kid and let go of me now."

"Huh?" I said, snapping back to reality. Did she really say what I think she just said? I looked at her, worried and unable to speak.

"It's okay, I won't tell anyone. Now come on, let's go join them," she said, gently pulling her body away from mine and leading me back to the table like a lost and confused lamb.

"Well, that was wonderful," Kid said, sitting down and wiping his slick brow. "It's nice to be able to do that every once and while, right Liz?"

"Sure," she groaned, sprawling out in one of the chairs, relaxing her tired body. It was obvious that she didn't have the stamina of a Reaper.

"It looks like everyone is pretty much gone," Maka said, looking around the empty room. The only people remaining were Stein, Spirit, and Marie, chatting casually in the corner with Lord Death.

"Oh, Soul, I wanted to ask you something," Kid said, standing up. Nervously, I nodded. "Follow me," he continued, walking across the room. I followed close behind him, tempted to take his hand as it swung back so close to me.

He led me to the large black piano on the other side of the room, and I knew what he wanted me to do.

"Forget it; you know I don't like to play anymore." In reality, it was hard for me to resist the sparkling white keys.

"Soul," Kid said, his golden eyes piercing right through my heart, "I've only heard you play a few times before, and that was in battle; I really want to hear you play for real."

I sighed, knowing that I was going to lose this fight. How could I say no to Kid? But I also knew that I had to protest and make it seem like I didn't want to, even though I wanted to jump down onto the bench and pound out a tune right then and there.

"I don't know, I mean…it's been awhile since I've played."

"Please, can you do it for me?"

Dammit, he had me. And part of me wanted to say that he knew I would give in at that point. Slowly, I sat down at the keys and cracked my knuckles. If he wanted a show, he was going to get a show. I glanced up at Kid, who was smiling with delight and staring back at me. Unable to help myself, I smiled for the first time that night, causing his expectant smile to fade into a warmer, more caring one.

Damn him and his looks.

And so, I began to play. I played my heart out for Kid as the others approached—even Lord Death and his small entourage had come over to watch me. But I didn't even notice them. The only person I cared about was Kid. Finally, after months of failing to impress him, I was captivating him. When I had finished the song and received a small round of applause, I cracked my knuckles again and turned towards Kid, again not being able to do anything but smirk.

"Happy now?"

"Very," Kid replied, his hands clasped in front of him.

"Do you mind if I play something?" Stein asked, stepping forward. "I'm probably not as good as you, Soul, but I'd like to see if I can still manage a tune."

"Oh, Stein, you play?" Marie asked, wrapping her arm around his. He smiled and nodded.

"Sure, be my guest." I got up from the bench and stood next to Kid, who looked a little disappointed to no longer see me at the piano. Stein took my place and began to play a waltz. I recognized it as a piece by Chopin, but I couldn't remember the title to save my life. Kid was swaying in time with the beat next to me, and then turned to face me.

"Oh, a waltz! How wonderful! Soul, will you dance with me?"

"What?" I couldn't believe my ears. I didn't expect him to pull that one, especially considering everyone was there to watch us.

"You're the only one in this room who can waltz decently enough to keep up with me, and I'd like to keep my waltzing symmetrical," he said, getting angered looks from the insulted friends around him.

But again, Kid didn't need an answer and simply took what he wanted, which in this case was me.

He dragged me out to the center of the ballroom and took my hand and then wrapped my other one around his waist. I could feel my cheeks burning; it almost made my eyes water. His touch was mesmerizing; his scent, intoxicating. His eyes held me captive, and his soothing voice forced me to give in.

We began to waltz, and for the first time since I could remember, I felt a sense of genuine happiness wash over me. It was something I wasn't used to, and it made my body tremble as if I was cold; but whenever I came close to him, and wherever he touched me, I was warm and relaxed. I noticed the others watching us with slightly confused looks, and tripped up.

"Ignore them, Soul; it's just you and me now," Kid told me, his voice low, causing my heart to flutter. Was this really happening? Was I really in the middle of a ballroom dancing with the guy that I had fallen madly in love with? Was he really holding my hand and pulling me closer?

Yes, it was all true.

And I couldn't handle it.

I took one last glance at the others, watching us as we glided around the ballroom, and felt my heart practically stop beating. It was a horrible feeling that caused my entire body to seize up in fear. The next thing I remember, I was sprinting at full speed down the streets of Death City, wanting only to reach the safety of my apartment.

I still don't know exactly what made me run. Perhaps it was fear of the unknown; perhaps it was the scrutinizing glares of my friends; perhaps I'm just a coward. I tend to think that it was all three, and when reality suddenly came crashing down on me that night, I just broke down.

Finally reaching the dark steps of my apartment, I sat down, my heartbeat strong in my ears, my throat raw, and my lungs sore. Gasping for breath, I fell softly against the wall to my left. Suddenly, my stomach cringed, and hurriedly I got up and ran over to the nearest trash can and vomited, my tight suit constricting my heaving chest. Fishing for my keys in my pocket, I found my way inside and went over to the sink, rinsing out my mouth and taking long, slow sips of cold water. I tossed my furrowed jacked on the table and ripped off my shoes, collapsing on the couch, still trying to catch my breath.

It's hard leading a double life. You have to act one way around people you trust, another around those you don't, and when you finally are able to lock the doors and get under the covers, you get to be yourself. And when you wake up the next morning, you put on that same face that you have to wear to hide who you really are, because in reality you haven't fully accepted it yet; you want to be normal, but you wouldn't ever go back to being average; you want to fit in, but being different fills you with pride. The problem for me, however, is that I have to be the cool guy, and most of the time that isn't a problem, but sometimes I just feel so left out.

And then there's Kid.

He always wants me to be a part of something, and that's really what made me fall in love with him: he noticed I was falling out and brought me back in. And so it's only because of him that Soul has remained Soul. Otherwise, who knows what person would be inhabiting my body at this point, if any?

My eyes adjusted to the pitch black room and my body had finally calmed when the door squeaked open. It had to have been Maka, and I braced myself for what was about to happen. When I sat up, I almost went into shock again: there was Kid—his shirt un-tucked, his hair a mess, his chest heaving slightly as he inhaled sharply. His eyes were red and the stains of tears were left drying on his face as he stared at me, obviously angry.

Not knowing what to say, I simply lay back down on the couch, sulking and waiting for his next move. Silence fell over the room, but I knew it wouldn't last long.

"Just what the hell was that?" Kid demanded.

I remained silent: there were no words to describe what I had just done.

"Why did you run away?"

Again, silence rung in the air.

"Dammit Soul, answer me!" he said. This time I could hear his voice choking and I knew he was on the verge of tears.

And my heart broke.

I got up from the sofa and walked over to him: his head was bent and his right hand was covering his eyes, tears dropping silently onto the carpet beneath him. I took his hand in mine and forced him to look at me. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, but I wanted him to stop crying; it was destroying me.

"Kid, please…don't cry," the words fell from my mouth as I reached up to dry his tears. "I'm sorry."

Gasping softly, his tears finally ceased. I placed my hand on the side of his face and looked at him, not sure what to say next. I wanted to kiss him and tell him I love him, but something was holding me back.

Smacking my hand away, he turned around, angry and clenching his fists. "Apologize all you want, but it doesn't excuse the way you've been acting!"

"What?"

"You mope around and sulk and avoid contact from everyone, Soul! I can see it: you're alone and afraid, and…" He paused, his words hanging in the air. "I noticed you slipping, Soul, and I wanted to stop you. And when things finally made sense—when I had finally gotten the courage to do something instead of wait around—you ran off."

"What do you mean?" I asked, stepping forwards.

"Oh, you moron—don't you get it? I love you!"

Tears began to form in the corners of his eyes, his face burning with embarrassment. I stood frozen with shock, mulling over those three little words that had just left his lips.

I

Love

You

Just as I snapped back into reality, I saw Kid turn to storm off, heartbroken because of my behavior; but before he could make his escape, I grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

"Kid…say that again."

He turned around and looked me in the face, then grabbed my collar and pulled me close to his face.

"I love you, Soul," he repeated, and then pressed his lips against mine. It was as if my body was being overwhelmed with warmth after years of being frozen. My heart melted, and I felt tears begin to slide down my cheeks. Breaking the kiss, I pulled back and began to sob for the first time since I could remember. Kid pulled me into his arms and cradled me as we dropped to the floor. I buried my face in his soft white shirt, my tears staining it.

"I've always cared about you, Soul; I want you to know that."

Tears kept flowing as he clutched my shoulders, and when there were no more tears left, I lifted up my face to look at Kid. His eyes were beautiful and his expression was warm and loving. The jaded cage that had surrounded my heart was gone.

We were in love. We were in love.

"Kid, I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to be so one-sided. It was very uncool of me…" I whispered between gasps as I subdued my crying. "Please, forgive me. I want to love you back, now."

His reply was an embrace as he buried his face in the crook of my neck, his hot breath tickling my skin as he pulled me closer to him. Smiling, I wrapped my arms around him. My pain and cowardice was gone; the world could do whatever it wanted to me now: I had Kid with me, at last.

However, just as I thought that, the world came crashing through my front door as the rest of our friends showed up, Maka standing angrily in the doorframe.

"Soul, you better explain yourself right…" She yelled, stopping when she turned on the lights and saw Kid and I locked in each other's arms. I looked up at her, my tear-soaked face smiling back at the group that had formed at the door. Kid turned around, his red face smirking back at the others.

"It's okay, Maka; we're fine."

Kid, Maka, and I stayed behind as the rest of our friends left to go home (after a lengthy and heartfelt explanation of the events of that night, of course), sitting on the couch in silence. Kid was wrapped tenderly under my left arm, and Maka was on my right.

"Are you happy now, Soul?" Maka asked kindly, turning towards me.

"Yes, I am. I'm sorry for how I've been acting lately; it's been the opposite of cool. I just needed someone," I said, pulling Kid closer to me, "to wake me up, I guess."

"Good; I'm glad." She glanced up at the clock: 2:43 A.M. "It's late, and I'm going to bed. I hope you guys do the same."

"That sounds like a plan," Kid said, yawning and hopelessly trying to keep his eyes open. "But, uh… Can I stay here tonight, you guys?"

"Well, so long as you don't do anything…" Maka said, a smirk rising through her red face.

I laughed at this and shook my head. "Obviously you don't know me, Maka," I said, standing up and bringing a limp and tired Kid with me.

"Night guys," she said, giggling softly as she made her way upstairs.

"C'mon, Kid; let's get ready for bed."

Heaving him up the stairs, we finally made it to my bedroom. I closed over the door and went to my closet, pulling out two pairs of pajamas and tossing one to Kid.

"Sorry if it's too big," I said, smirking.

"It's fine," he said as he slipped out of his clothes. I followed suit, the cold air kissing my body as I shivered, longing for my warm blankets. With silent movements, Kid came up behind me and wrapped his half-nude frame around my bare chest, his soft hair brushing my cheek. "I'm so happy that you're back to normal."

"Me too, Kid; and it's all because of you," I said, kissing him on the forehead. "I love you," I finally said as he slowly released his hold, allowing me to finish dressing.

I walked over to the bed and pulled back the covers, letting Kid slide in first, me following. The room was dark, but I could still see his eyes gleaming at me, the silhouette of his body barely visible. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close, never wanting to let go.

But of course, part of me already knew that I wouldn't ever have to.