notes: this time, in soul's point of view. i'll switch from chapter to chapter. :3

a definite "perhaps".

When Soul returned home, he didn't expect Maka to be there. And even if she was, he didn't expect her to greet him.

For the past while, she'd been acting a little strange. Stumbling over her words, running away, falling silent—they were all characteristics that didn't belong to her, but yet, that was exactly how she was nowadays. He wasn't sure how to react to this.

"Oh, Soul, you're back! I made some cookies—would you like one?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Since when did you make cookies?"

"Well, can't I?" she asked defiantly, frowning. "I worked hard on them, too."

He shrugged. "Sure, I'll have one." It was weird, he found, to have Maka baking. Her dinners were usually small and simple; he did most of the complex cooking around the house. It wasn't…bad, per se, for her to make cookies—just unexpected.

The cookies were also unexpectedly good.

"Whoa," he said, swallowing. "These are actually edible."

"Hey!" She hit him over the head with her oven mitts. "I put a lot of effort into them, you know!"

"Who're they for?"

Turning so her back faced him as she put away her gloves, her voice dropped a little lower. "No one, really…I just wanted to make some cookies…"

"Oh. Well, they're good." He swiped a couple more off of the pan, tossing another one into his mouth. "You should make them more often."

"Really?" Honestly, she was so predictable. Easy to please. But that was just the way she was, he supposed. "I'll make more tomorrow, then!"

One week later, Soul found their apartment always smelling of cookies. Even with Blair at home all the time, they weren't able to finish them all. Maka just continued making more and more. It was beginning to get a little ridiculous.

"They're done!" Maka announced, strolling out of the kitchen with a new batch in her hands. "Would you like to try, Soul?"

He took one, but didn't eat it. "Really, Maka, I think you should stop."

She looked surprised. "Stop?"

"You don't expect to make these cookies forever, do you?" He gestured towards the numerous plates of different cookies; oatmeal, chocolate chip, peanut butter, coffee—they were endless, and frankly, he was getting sick of eating them twenty-four-seven. She brought some with her to class, on lessons, and there was always a large stash at home. "This is getting ridiculous."

At this, her lips formed into the frown that he was so used to seeing. "I was only making them because you said you liked them!" With that, she slammed down the fresh plate of cookies on the coffee table and stormed off into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Soul blinked. What did he do wrong?

-

"You're doing it wrong, Soul!" Black Star declared. "Let the man that will one day surpass God teach you!"

"There's something to be taught?"

"Women are gifts for men," the blue-haired boy declared, "and they must be treated as such. Be gentle"—Tsubaki immediately started in surprise when he grabbed her hand and rubbed it against his cheek—"and kind."

Soul rolled his eyes. "Maka isn't like that."

"Isn't she?" Black Star's eyes hardened. "In the end, doesn't she just want the person she likes to return her feelings?"

"Eh?" Now he was confused. That was the strangest change of subject. "Weren't we just talking about her temper?"

"Due to her feelings for you, yes," Tsubaki said, smiling in that way that made Soul feel like she knew more than she let on. "Or you haven't noticed yet?" Noticed what? That she was mad at him? Because if that was the case, then yes, he noticed.

"No," he said slowly, although he wasn't sure what he was saying no to. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets; it gave him a sense of sturdiness, like being his anchors.

Black Star waved a hand. "He's hopeless. And I thought I was the stupid one!"

He scowled. "What are you talking about?"

"Maka likes you," Black Star said slowly. "Get it? She likes you. Y'know—like."

"I get it." Soul's frown deepened as he turned on his heels and stalked away. So what if Maka liked him? It was none of his business. He wasn't obligated to feel the same way. If all girls were this annoying when it came to boys they liked and cookies, he would much rather spend his time with guys instead.

But really? Maka liked him? Who would've known.

When he returned home, Maka was laying on the couch, curled up into a ball, hugging a cushion.

"If you're going to sleep, sleep in your bed," Soul said. "You're going to catch a cold out here."

"Not that you'd care anyway," he heard her mumble, voice barely audible. He sighed wearily; she was being really annoying. And stupid. Did he mention annoying?

"Look." He stuffed his hands deeper in his pockets, making sure his back was slouched so it looked like he was speaking casually. "I don't know what happens when a girl likes me. And I definitely don't know what happens when you like me. And I don't know what happens when—if I like you back." He paused. "Because I might like you back. Maybe."

Slowly, Maka sat up from the couch, staring at him. He felt scrutinized, judged. "Maybe?"

"Yeah. Maybe."

At that moment, her lips stretched into a smile, and he was glad—because that meant she understood what he meant. Because everyone knew that Soul Evans was much too cool to confess to a girl directly.

He swore, he did not—absolutely did not—blush when Maka linked arms with him. "Let's go out for dinner tonight! My treat!"

"Heh." He grinned. "What kind of gentleman would I be if I let the lady pay?"

sanctuary.

There were things that Soul couldn't quite understand. Like when he transforms into a weapon and falls into Maka's hands that seemed to be molded just to hold him. He felt this sense of satisfaction that, yes, when they were together, they were indestructible.

And when their souls resonated and their mighty attack shone brightly, he felt a victory that didn't come from anywhere else—not even beating Black Star and Kid, two on one in basketball. And back when he was lost in his insanity from the Kishin and she reached into his mind, holding the box in which he was hidden. When they danced in that black and red room with the piano, when she lost her mind when fighting Chrona—all of these things triggered incomprehensible feelings that he couldn't understand.

There were times when he was afraid, because it felt like he depended on Maka much more than a weapon should on a technician. More than a friend should on another friend.

He lay in bed, unmoving, as he stared at the slithers of morning light that came in through his curtains.

Sometimes, he was more than afraid. He was terrified. What would happen once he became a death scythe? He wouldn't be with her anymore. Not all the time—not like this.

Living with Maka made things worsen tenfold. It was enough seeing her every day at school and all the time during lessons—but waking up to her, going to bed to her; sharing living space, knowing her living quirks—like how she liked to read before bed, how strawberry ice cream calmed her down, and how she needed the color of her toothbrush to match the color of her toothpaste—and eventually, even if he didn't like her at first, he just got use to her always being there.

So what would happen if one day, she just…disappeared?

Before he knew it, he had grown close to a girl that wasn't cool at all. Before he knew it, he depended on this bookworm, this oddball in their classroom—

When did it happen? When did it start?

A knock sounded at his door. "Hey, Soul? Are you awake? You said you wanted to play basketball, right? We're free today—how about we go now?"

He grinned, but she couldn't see it. "Just let me get ready first."

"If you take too long, I'll leave you behind!"

For now, he thought, he'll let it go. Because it was this moment that mattered—this moment—every moment—that he shared with her.

melody.

"Mama used to sing a lullaby to me when I was a baby," Maka had told him once. "Dad said that whenever I threw a fit and wouldn't stop crying, she'd sing it, and I'd immediately calm down."

"Really," he had said, not all that interested.

"I don't remember the words," she had continued, not bothered by his indifference, "but the tune's been stuck in my head ever since."

"That's cool." He had dismissed the thought of it just a moment after.

It was times like those when he couldn't pay attention to her. Times like those when his curiosity caused him to edge a little closer to that small room in his mind that had been closed for the longest time now. He knew the devil was still in there; plotting, lurking, waiting. It was only a matter of time before he was caught again.

As he lay in bed, his hands tucked behind his head, staring at the ceiling, he wondered what would happen if he drowned in that madness when Maka wasn't around. He frowned.

"Soul?" His door opened by a crack, and his partner's quiet voice pierced through the silence like a knife. "You're still awake, right?"

His eyes wandered towards her figure as she slipped into the room. "Yeah. What's up?"

Her hair was down, her eyes drooping shut. She was in her pajamas—why on earth would she still be up at this time of night? Without saying a word, she shuffled towards his bed and climbed into it. He was a little surprised when she did this, and moved over so she had room to lie beside him on the small piece of furniture.

They lay there, side by side in silence, never touching—except for those awkward moments when her toes brushed his—until he heard her voice again.

She was humming, he realized. An unrecognizable tune to him, but it was probably familiar to her. It was a warm tune; relaxed and calm. Before he knew it, all thoughts and worries about the room with the devil in it disappeared.

He fell asleep to the sound of her voice.

progress.

"This is unhealthy," Kid said just as class was dismissed.

"You're unhealthy," Soul shot back under his breath.

"You and Maka aren't making progress at all." The other boy shook his head, seemingly oblivious to Soul's obvious dislike for the subject. "It's understandable that you guys don't want too much PDA—and we all appreciate that, really—but how long have you guys been together for? Six months?"

"Five, actually."

"Exactly. Six months, and no one would be able to tell you two were a couple unless they were told."

"Like I said, we've only been going out for five months."

"Five is an ugly number! It cannot be divided evenly!"

"That's not really my problem…"

Kid dismissed this. "Look, the next time you see her, go like this." And without hesitation, the young shinigami grabbed Soul's hand and laced their fingers together.

Soul felt a chilling horror creep up the base of his spine. "O-Oi! Let go of me!" He pulled desperately at the hand clasped to his, but to no avail. He despaired. What would happen if Maka saw this? He already gave off enough impressions of being gay with Black Star…

"And then look deeply into her eyes," Kid continued enthusiastically, appearing rather inspired, "and say passionately, 'Maka Albarn, I love you!' And then kiss her!" Soul felt the faint urge to vomit when Kid's other hand held his chin firmly. His face was much too close for his liking.

"Like I said, let go, you creep!"

"Soul? Kid?" Both boys looked over at the terrifyingly familiar voice. Maka was standing in front of the table with her hands behind her back, head tilted to the side in curiosity. "What are you guys doing?"

"Nothing!" Soul yanked his hand out of Kid's and backed away as far as he could, to the other side of the room.

Maka's bottom lip jutted out a little into a pout, the way it normally did when she gave him her you're weird look. "Okay. Shinigami-sama said that he had a special lesson for us. We have to go. I'll see you around, Kid!" Soul left the room with his partner all too eagerly.

He and Maka walked down the hallway in silence. Soul didn't mind; they often had gaps in their conversations, but they were comfortable gaps. Too much talking was tiring—and not to mention, not cool.

"So, how was your day?" Maka asked cheerfully. "I barely saw you at all—I was busy helping Sid-sensei in the library."

He shrugged. "The usual."

"Oh. It was kind of weird being with Sid-sensei all day…he kept on talking about who he used to be." She laughed. "I wasn't sure what to say."

Soul smiled at this, but it turned into a smirk. He seemed to have a problem with smiling properly. "Well, that's the way he is." They fell into a silence once more. He could still feel Kid's hand in his, and his fingers on his chin. A shudder ran up his spine at the thought.

"Hey, uh, Maka…" He looked away, trying to appear indifferent.

"Hm?"

"Let's…hold hands."

"Eh?" She seemed surprised. "Why?"

"W-Well…" Dammit, why did he even listen to Kid? "We've been going out for a while now, and I think we should start…But you don't have to if you don't want to," he added immediately, upon seeing her expression.

The smile on her lips was soft. "No—it's okay." Her hand reached out for his, and a light and giddy feeling bubbled in his stomach as their fingers interlaced.

He felt kind of cool.

(Needless to say, though, once they reached Shinigami-sama's office and Maka's father saw their fingers intertwined, he got pummeled.)

motionless.

"Don't move," Maka said suddenly. Soul stopped walking, regarding her with an odd look.

"Why?" They were in the middle of finding a soul; it wasn't the most convenient time to stop.

"Just…don't move. And close your eyes!" It was one of the strangest things she'd ever said to him.

"Why?" he asked again.

"Just do it!"

So he closed his eyes and kept still. He didn't realize what she was doing until he felt her breath fan across his lips—and it was the biggest surprise ever, because, what, Maka wanted to kiss him at a crucial time like this?

Despite that, he kept still, and let her kiss him.

(And he might've kissed back. Just a little.)