Soul had Crona for one more class other than biology. He hadn't noticed at first, but in trigonometry, if he peered back while everyone else was diligently working on the homework, he could see odd, pink-haired Crona sitting as far away from the front as one could get; right back in the corner of the room, where there was little light from the freshly cleaned windows. Soul was able to notice that Crona hadn't even opened the math textbook (courage he secretly yearned for, for he despised math), and most likely wasn't even aware of the assignment.
The assignment…! The inquisitive expression melted off of Soul's face as though it had been shoved inside an oven. The teacher, Mr. Barrett (who had insisted upon Soul calling him by his first name, Sid) had just so happened to dish out the assignment from hell on the new student's first day there. Thirty problems of in-your-face, what-the-fuck numbers and letters and shapes that made absolutely no sense. Soul had never been good at math (or really any subject that he didn't give a damn about enough to apply himself in), but back at his old school, he'd at least had friends to help him out. Great thinking, Dad… You just had to go do the shit you do, and now I'm here where no one even knows me…
Glancing up at the clock, which refused to work correctly and go at the right speed, Soul bit his bottom lip. Where in fuck was he going to need to know what the surface area of a cube was? And why were these teachers so adamant that you needed to get straight A's in order to succeed in life? Apparently, Soul's father had been a dedicated student, with the occasional B, and look where his life was…
"Alright, class," Sid announced, standing up from his desk, his oversized basketball sleeveless dancing a tiny bit against the oddly colored skin of his. "It's been 20 minutes, and you may now work in groups for the rest of the period. You kids need to be able to do these problems by yourself, but I believe that people can figure out a lot when working together. That's the kind of man I was." He promptly sat back down, going back to typing on the computer that every member of the faculty had like a madman. And for a moment, the air was still with people continuing to wonder why Sid always talked about the man he "was," the not the man he happened to be at the present moment. But the confusion was whisked away as students clamored together, talking about pretty much anything but trig.
Once again, Soul was left by himself, a position which he abhorred. Back at his old school, he could be the center of attention without having to do so much as take a breath. But here…? This school was a brand new environment, where the boy had nothing to his credit, and he might as well have been a shadow on the wall. Groaning to himself, Soul ran a finger down the spine of his math textbook. Why couldn't even that annoying Black*Star be here? Oh, right – he had remedial algebra this period, because he "didn't want others to get jealous of my amazing skills." What an idiot…
It was at that point that Soul glanced back to the back of the room, and he saw that Crona was still sitting there, lonely and quiet as ever. And Soul decided that now might as well be as good a chance as any to introduce himself and maybe get at least a little help. Scooping up his textbook and notebook in one fell swoop, he made his way through the tiny masses of giggling girls and their magazines to the darker side of Sid's class. The air didn't feel quite as fresh back here; somehow, it felt more stagnant and smelled a little like rotten eggs. The air even tasted bitter; bitter like a freshly-cut piece of rhubarb. Soul's nose wrinkled and for the first few moments, he had a fleeting suspicion that he might make a wonderful first impression on the teacher by throwing up. Fortunately for him, the queasiness passed and he set his things down on the desk next to Crona.
With a squeak, Crona turned to face whoever it was, and brought a thin set of knees up to hug against a chest that was just as thin. Trembling, Crona looked away, then back to Soul, then quickly away again. Those eyes, Soul noted, were unusually small in the large sockets that held them, and everything about this kid's features was turned down and depressing.
"…Hey," Soul began, not really sure of what else to say to the kid who looked about ready to curl up on the floor into the fetal position.
"H-He's talking to me. Th-The new k-kid is…talking to me… I-I don't know how to deal with new people…" Crona whispered shakily, voice sounding as though it could shatter into a thousand pieces at any given moment. But there was something else about that voice – not the high pitch nor the lack of clarity with which is carried itself, but an…airiness, a wispiness that was somewhat intriguing. Completely in character and predictable, but intriguing nonetheless. It somehow caught Soul offguard for a second before he regained himself and cleared his throat.
"I was wondering if you could help me with the assignment." Soul wasn't about to disguise the quality of his own voice that shouted out that he didn't want to ask for help, nor did he want to do the work. In his mind, there was no point in lying about something so stupid and plainly obvious. So his eyes merely watched the odd child next to him squirm uncomfortably, as though searching for any sort of way out of the classroom that didn't involve smashing glass.
Crona's body tightened, fingers trembling against the knees that were almost invisible beneath the long black robe that appeared suspiciously like a dress. "…I-I don't like math," Crona finally confessed, voice lighter than a feather and barely carrying on the barely-moving air. "I don't know how to deal with it…"
Huh, Soul thought to himself. That's twice the kid's said 'I don't know how to deal with it…' I mean, I know Black*Star said Crona's quiet and awkward, but damn…! This is like looking at a car wreck…! Being lost in thoughts equated to Soul seeming to "stare" at Crona, causing the kid to squirm even more and sink into the desk, wanting nothing more than to escape. Glancing at the desk, then quickly at Soul, then at the window, and finally the door (which was being guarded like a hawk under the very watchful eyes of Sid), Crona had to give in and admit there was no hope to get out of the class.
"…So, are you gonna help me with the work or not?" The hair on the back of Crona's neck stood on end as Soul once again asked. Answering questions was far from Crona's strong suit; it always seemed that something incorrect would be said, and incorrect answers were terrible, horrible things; painfully horrible things.
Should Crona answer this person who was nice enough to sit down and talk, or should the safe path be taken? Teeth clacking together, the kid's head swayed back and forth as though it were setting on an unstable table, a few screws being the only thing that kept it from toppling over completely. "I-I don't…know how to deal with pressure…"
Which left Soul feeling utterly confused.
"What? You mean you actually talked to Crona?" Black*Star's eyes were wide, and he was literally leaning over the lunch table, staring right at Soul's face. The boy was barely even blinking, and his mouth shaped like a round little o in surprise.
Soul took a sizeable bite of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "Yeah," he said, mouth full and little flecks of bread launching themselves onto the table and, quite often, Black*Star's fingers. "Asked the kid to help with math. But Crona didn't say much, just 'I can't deal with this.'"
"That's Crona's usual fare," Kidd calmly informed Soul, arranging mashed potatoes and peas on his plate so that no side had any more or less than the other. In his opinion, before a meal could be properly eaten, it first had to be perfectly symmetrical; as a consequence, he rarely had time to eat during lunch period. "Can't deal with much, that one."
Black*Star, however, was still riveted to Soul. "Cool! It took me a week when I first met the kid to get even a word! You may have surpassed God in one way, Soul Albarn!" He almost leapt forward to give Soul a big cuddly teddy bear hug, but was denied by Soul scooting down. He had noticed Crona in the lunchroom, sitting in the corner all alone, with nothing but a few little scraps of food on the table.
"…Hey, guys," Soul inquired, slowly turning away. "Is Crona a boy or a girl?"
All the sense of joy was swept off of the table at that very instant. Black*Star sat back down, twiddling his thumbs and looking to Tsubaki for support; she just sat there and smiled softly, like she was known to do, and offered little to nothing for an answer.
Kidd cleared his throat after a minute or so of uncomfortable silence, and said, rather bluntly, "We don't know."
"Huh?" Soul raised an eyebrow, definitely not expecting that answer. "I mean, yeah, the kid's pretty androgynous, but what do you mean you don't know?"
"We mean just that," Kidd replied, one eye on Soul and the other on his plate, trying desperately to place a pea perfectly. "We have no idea whether Crona is a boy or girl. I've done some digging through my father's records trying to figure it out, but there's nothing on any of the transcripts, schedules, or certificates. Crona has even been able to waive P.E., and that would've been the easiest way for us to find out; I'm pretty sure Crona's mother had something to do with that one." His attention immediately turned to the infernal pea, and why the hell it wouldn't just stay where it was so the symmetry could be flawless.
Sighing, Soul stole another glance over at Crona, who had touched nothing, and was just sitting and staring off into blank infinity. "…Has anyone ever just gone and asked?" he mused, mostly to himself. But it was evidently loud enough for the others at the table to hear. A hush fell over them, silent as the child they were discussing.
"…Are you crazy?" Black*Star asked. "There's no way we can ask Crona. No way in hell."
"He's right," Kidd continued, having finally gotten the pea positioned in the right spot so that his entire plate was the very vision of immaculate symmetry, and he could now go to work ruining said symmetry in the name of survival. "I mean, I tried once, but I couldn't get past the greeting with Crona nearly breaking down. It'd be best if you just left the kid alone; nothing good'll come out of sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong."
While Soul had to give in and admit they were right, he couldn't help but be curious. He was just about to get up and go over to Crona when Maka sat down beside him, effectively blocking his view and closing all means of exit; when Maka was around, Soul could rest assured that he wouldn't leave until either the bell rang or she permitted him to go. And she never permitted him to.
"Who are these weirdos?" Maka asked, setting down the brown paper bag she was carrying. "New friends of yours, Soul?"She slipped out of the bag, much to her displeasure, a slice of pizza, along with a white notecard that had been scribbled over. Soul imagined it had to be from Spirit, in an attempt to apologize to his daughter and win back her good graces. Once again, the boy couldn't help but giggle to himself as his sister looked at the pizza and then at her own chest.
Black*Star, acting much to his self-appointed title of the school's welcome wagon, hopped up onto the table, disturbing the symmetry of Kidd's plate and sending him into a depression. "Pleased ta meetcha!" the blue-haired boy nearly shouted, a silly yet sincere smile on his face. He extended his gloved hand towards Maka, who refused at first. "I'm Black*Star, the most awesomest person alive at this school! Even the teachers are jealous, that's why they give me bad grades!" And somehow, he got through to Maka, who smiled (albeit slightly nervously) and shook his hand.
Grumbling with displeasure, Soul relented and introduced Maka. "Guys and Tsubaki, this is Maka. She's my…sister." He sighed, knowing that sooner or later he was going to have to do it. Now seemed to be the perfect opportunity to just get it over with.
"Wow, you're kinda hot!" Black*Star exclaimed, and everyone at the table could only guess at whether he was aware of himself when he spoke. "Isn't she, Soul?"
"NO, SHE ISN'T!" Soul nearly shrieked, his large canine teeth aimed at the blue-haired boy with vicious, feral intent. Covering his mouth and lowering his voice, he continued with a hiss. "She's my sister, you retard!" It seemed like something had finally gotten to Black*Star, because he raised his hands in defeat and sat back down, fingers intertwining with Tsubaki's.
Folding his hands in a sort of professional, interviewer manner, Kidd glanced a tiny bit ruefully at his friend, then turned his attention to Soul and Maka. "So, you two just got here, right? Just needed a change of scenery?"
Maka shook her head. "No, we came here with our father, and now we're living with him. And he'd better have cleared all those filthy magazines out of the house like I told him to…"
Grinning, Soul continued where his sister had left off. "Yeah, our dad just went through the big D. Our mom took him to the fuckin' cleaners; it was a miracle that he got custody."
"Excuse me? A miracle?" Maka asked him indignantly. "I don't want to live with that sleazeball through the rest of high school, thank you very much. If I had things my way, I'd be back with our loving, not-cheating mother."
"You kidding? I hate that bitch, she's almost as bad as dad."
Maka was beyond bewildered. "Excuse me, did you just call our mother a bitch? She as not, she was a lovely and pleasing woman who never once looked at a porno!"
"You would think that, wouldn't you? You didn't have to lay awake by their room every night and listen to them fight! Believe me, Maka, our mother has the mouth of a sailor."
Kidd reclined slightly, listening to the two siblings bicker. He supposed he could feel for them and both their points of view, but…a family that had been separated like that, in Kidd's opinion, was less than symmetrical. The lack of symmetry did horrible things to those involved, and there were few things that could repair it.
He would've continued to contemplate this, but his thoughts were thrown away from the issue by the piercing ring of the bell. Lunch was over, and when he glanced down, he realized that only half of the meal he'd so painstakingly made symmetrical had actually been eaten. Life was too cruel…
Soul, now thoroughly mad at Maka again, got to his feet and glanced down at his schedule. English was next, and it would most likely prove to be another monumental waste of time. Anything to get him away from his sister, though. And as the boy turned, he suddenly remembered what he wanted to do – to ask about Crona's gender. But when he looked at the corner where Crona had been sitting, it was vacated, nothing but those same few scraps lying on the chipped blue surface of the table. Once again, Crona had slipped away from society into the darkness.
"So, how was school?" was the first thing Spirit flamboyantly asked his children as they hopped off the bus and haughtily walked inside.
"Soul hangs out with weirdos," Maka spat.
"Ah, Maka, good to see you're still a complete bitch," Soul spat back, not even looking at his sister.
"Now, now, you two, play nicely!" Spirit warned in that all-too-happy way of his. In actuality, he was probably addressing only his son, because his mind was either unable or unwilling to register what his daughter had said. "Daddy loves both of you very much!"
Groaning, Soul put a hand over his face. "Yeah, yeah, we get it, now shut your trap." He hopped up the stairs. "Call me down when dinner's here."
Upon arriving in his bare, minimal room, he shut the door and let his backpack slide to the floor. Crashing onto the bed, he unzipped his jacket and didn't even bother trying to hang it up, or even toss it aside; it merely fell off his back, half-covering his backpack. Soul's mind was in other places – namely, the cafeteria. Maka may not have known it, and it may not have been on purpose, but she had hit Soul pretty hard. The boy was still sore and resentful over his parents' divorce, and there were still emotions within him that he wasn't willing to let come to the surface. Like how afraid he was of their tempers, and how he couldn't lay all the blame on Spirit; after all, if his mother had put out once in a while, his father probably wouldn't have needed to cheat (although there was a good chance he might've done so anyway). But it wasn't like Spirit was guilt-free, either. And then Soul was left right in the middle of things, being tugged by each side, and he was damn tired of it. There was a pervading loneliness that he felt, even in the house; as if the day his parents had split, something inside of him had split, too.
When he was with Black*Star and Kidd and Tsubaki, he was able to forget about all those feelings. He had been able to laugh at Black*Star's crazy antics and Kidd's obsession with symmetry. And then, just when things were going great and he was high on the roller coaster, Maka had to come in and ruin the ride. To put things bluntly, Soul felt miserable when he considered the divorce, no matter how lightly he might speak of it. Everything was just a charade to keep up the status quo. Besides, Soul Albarn was way too cool to let his feelings show.
And that thought led him to another – Crona. Crona, the shy kid of undetermined gender. The kid who intrigued Soul because Soul felt like there was someone else out there who might understand how he felt. Crona was someone with whom Soul wanted to make a connection.
That was how Soul decided that the following day, the first chance he got, he was going to talk to Crona; he was going to ask Crona's gender.
