Had he done something wrong?
Soul stared after Maka's retreating back with a sinking feeling proportional to the growing distance between them. He hadn't been that bad of a dancer, had he? He knew he was bad, but that alone wouldn't have … shouldn't have …
The music started up again, but still he stood there, dumbfounded. It wasn't until some other fella nearly ran him over that he ducked off the dancefloor. The tune the band played was bright, a cover of Glenn Miller's In the Mood; and yeah, Soul was in a mood all right, but it sure wasn't a great one.
Why had he let Blake talk him into coming out tonight? So far, it was turning out exactly the way he had expected it to.
Soul sighed. There was really only one thing he could do at this point, he supposed, and that was to apologize to Maka for whatever boneheaded thing it was he'd just done. Taking a deep breath, he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and began to wander in the same direction he had seen Maka go.
His thoughts wandered as well, twisting and turning through every possible scenario. Had she suddenly remembered how he had stared at her the night before? If she had, he couldn't blame her for leaving the way she had.
Soul carefully ducked through the crowd, doing his best not to step on anyone's toes. He had long since lost sight of Maka's slight frame, but still he kept going. She had to be there somewhere, he figured. From what little he knew about her, it was unlikely that she would leave so early in the night when there was still dancing to be done.
Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, depending upon how one looked at it, he found Blake first. Or rather, Blake found him.
"Hey, devil what say!" Blake called out from where he sat at a table, getting his attention. "Soul, buddy!"
With a small smile and a shake of his head, Soul veered off course to meet his friend. "Blake," he said without preamble, "have you seen Maka?"
A shit-eating grin spread across the other man's face, and Soul felt his heart plunge straight down into his stomach. "I might be in the know," Blake hedged. "The broad ditched you, did she?"
"I don't know what I did," Soul said, lifting a hand to smooth the back of his gelled hair nervously. "I wanted to apologize."
"Soul, buddy, don't flip your wig. Man, I've never seen you this doll dizzy before. If you must know, she's in cahoots with Tsubaki over by the drink bar."
Soul smiled weakly. "Thanks, bub. I appreciate it."
"Get me a quencher while you're over there," Blake called after him as he walked away. Soul raised his hand in acknowledgement and kept going.
He found the drink bar in the back of the hall, but despite what Blake had told him, he didn't see the slight, fair-haired dame. He did, however, find Tsubaki casually sipping a glass of cola. When she spotted him, she waved him over.
"If you're looking for Maka," she said gently, "she'll be back in a few minutes. Kidd asked her to dance."
"Who's Kidd?" Soul asked, thrown for a loop.
"He's one of the regular leads here," Tsubaki explained. "Maka loves dancing with him."
"Ah, I see. Uhm. Is she … okay?"
"Who, Maka? Oh, yeah, she's fine, don't worry." She paused, and then added, "You should probably talk to her, though."
"Did I do something wrong?" Soul finally asked the question that had been eating at him.
"Oh! No, no not at all, don't worry. Maka … well, it scares her when someone gets too close, too fast, that's all."
"Oh. Should I –" he swallowed past the lump growing in his throat – "should I leave her alone, then?"
Tsubaki smiled ruefully and shook her head slowly, her dark lips an elegant contrast to her tanned skin. "Nah, I just said that you should probably talk to her, didn't I?"
"I – yeah, you did," Soul stammered. Damn, he really was making a mook of himself tonight, and to everyone. "All right."
Ordering a cola for himself, Soul settled in to wait with Blake's girl until the end of the song. While it was sometimes impossible to get Blake to shut up about his sweetheart, Soul had never actually met her himself. In the five minutes he stood with her, he quickly found that she was just as sweet and charming as Blake said, if a little shy. She was fine talking to him, probably due to the fact that he was friends with Blake, but tended to avoid others who came too close.
The reason became obvious when he overheard some of the comments being made by a couple down the way. Filthy Jap – What's she doing here? – Working her way back east. Next to him, Tsubaki shrank into herself, and Soul knew he couldn't just let it be. It wasn't right.
But before he could say anything, someone else beat him to it.
"Hey, Gary!" The words sliced through the air like a knife. "Go take a powder, why don'tcha? What's she done to you?" A moment later, Maka came to stand with them, the tall dark-haired man from the previous night beside her. "Honestly," she said. "The nerve of some people!"
"You know you don't have to do that, Maks," Tsubaki said meekly. "They weren't doing anyone any harm."
"It's still not right," Soul muttered, staring down at the glass of cola in his hand. Blake had told him about some of the issues he and Tsubaki faced when they went out, but this was the first time Soul had ever experienced it firsthand. It left a sour taste in his mouth, and the worst part was that he knew at one point earlier in his life, he wouldn't have cared.
Once again, he was glad he had gotten out of his parents' house when he had.
When he looked up again, Maka was watching him with a calculating look in those green, green eyes of hers. Inexplicably, he felt a blush rise to his cheeks. He just hoped nobody would notice.
"No," Maka said slowly, "It's not right."
Soul's heart skipped a beat in his chest, and that was when he knew he was already such a goner for this woman before him.
"I'm Kidd, by the way," the dark-haired man finally said, interrupting both the silence between them and Soul's epiphany. "Mortimer Kidd, really, but please just call me Kidd."
Soul took the man's outstretched hand and shook it firmly, trying to ignore the way Maka still watched him. "Solomon Evans," he said, meeting Kidd's eyes squarely, "but please just call me Soul."
Kidd cracked a small smile at that. "It's nice to know that my parents were not the only ones who chose to foist such a cumbersome name upon their son," he said as he drew back. "You played with Spartoi last night, did you not?"
"I did," Soul confirmed. "I'm the new pianist – last night was my first night."
The other man nodded. "You play much better than their last pianist did. I could tell the difference."
"Oh! Uhm, thank you." Soul accepted the compliment awkwardly, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks once again. "I, uh, saw you dancing last night. You're very good."
Immediately, he winced at how awkward the statement sounded once it fell from his lips.
"Kidd's father owns the Shibusen," Maka said, having gotten herself a drink during his short exchange with the other man. This piece of information did absolutely nothing to calm Soul's nerves.
"That's cool," he said, about as lamely as one could expect.
Kidd shrugged as he shot a dirty glance at Maka. "It's all right," he said. "I get in for free, but that's about it."
"It's still something," Tsubaki said, reentering the conversation. Sidling up to Kidd with all the grace she possessed – which was more than a fair amount – she asked, "Kidd, would you like to dance?"
Soul didn't miss the pointed look she directed toward Maka as Kidd accepted and took her hand to lead her out to the dance floor. He also didn't miss the fact that it was now only he and Maka who stood by the drink bar.
"I'm sorry about earlier," she said after a moment, as the jitterbugs on the floor danced to a cover of Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea. "That was rude of me."
"It's all right," Soul said, unable to say anything else but. "I'm sorry if I did something you didn't like."
"No, no it wasn't like that," Maka said absently. "It wasn't like that at all."
"Oh. Okay." It was a lackluster response, and Soul racked his brains for something – anything – else to say to the woman beside him. As per usual, however, she beat him to it.
"Thanks for sticking up for Tsubaki," she said quietly. "It means a lot, you know?"
Soul shrugged a shoulder, somewhat abashed. "There was a point where I probably wouldn't have even noticed," he admitted truthfully. "My family was privileged, and I grew up thinking that was just the way the world was, and that it was just natural. I've learned otherwise, since I dropped out of school and my parents cut me off."
He was somewhat mortified at spilling such personal history to a practical stranger, but at the same time, he wanted her to know. He wanted her to know him. He wanted to know her. If confessing his past helped him gain her trust, then he would continue to do so in a heartbeat.
"Yeah?" she asked, "Where did you drop out of?"
Soul couldn't help the little scoff that came along with the response of, "Juilliard."
Maka's eyebrows rose as she turned to look at him. "Jeepers."
"Yeah." He shrugged again. "My only real skill is with a piano, so I had a bit of a rough time of it for a while until I met Blake. He's the one who got me the job with Spartoi."
Maka huffed a little laugh that shouldn't have been as cute as it was. "Well, at least you're doing what you went to school for," she said, "sort of."
"And you're … not?"
"I graduated from Yale Law School at the top of my class on full scholarship, worked my keister off and travelled full across the country to get there, and I'm currently stuck working as a secretary for Stein & Gorgon."
"You're kidding me!"
She turned her sharp eyes on him, and immediately he regretted his words. "What? You think I couldn't do it just 'cause I'm a woman? I have the diploma back home to prove it."
"No, I believe you. I'm sorry. It was just a surprise, is all. I'm sorry you're not doing more with it."
Maka visibly relaxed and took a sip of her soda pop. "It's not the worst response I've gotten," she admitted, then sighed and downed the rest of her drink. "Do you want to try dancing again?"
It was only then that Soul remembered he was supposed to be getting a bottle of soda pop for Blake, but fuck it. His friend could get his own drink. Blake would surely forgive him once Soul explained the situation.
"I'll try not to step on your feet," Soul said, placing his empty cola bottle back on the counter. Maka did the same before taking his hand and leading him back out to the dance floor.
He couldn't ignore the way his heart fluttered at the contact.
She couldn't ignore the way her stomach flipped when she met his eyes.
The rational part of her brain told her that she didn't need this sort of drama in her life right now. Her work kept her far busier than it should, and the heavy storm clouds that were the threat of the war loomed constantly on the horizon, casting their ominous shadows across the country.
The other, more impulsive part of her brain was starting to realize those clouds were all the more reason to take advantage of the present while she still could. To seize the day, so to speak.
Carpe diem.
Which was how, a week later, she found herself wearing her nicest dress and standing with Tsubaki outside the Shibusen after Spartoi's set.
"I just can't believe it," Tsubaki had gushed in her native tongue earlier that evening as they were getting ready. "You're actually going on a date tonight! I never thought I'd see the day!"
Maka had simply shrugged as she fiddled with the hem of her dress. "I dunno, 'Baki," she'd replied in the same language. "What if it doesn't go well? He seems nice enough, but …"
"Then you just don't go on a second date," had been Tsubaki's response. "Come on, Maka. You're not entirely new to this. You dated in high school."
She had, and it had been a series of bad decisions. Even if it hadn't been, she had still been a child in childish relationships. Now she was twenty-four, and she hadn't had the time to date in college being so caught up in her work as she was.
And, if she was being honest with herself, she had never wanted a relationship to work out as much as she did now. The thought was enough to scare anyone, she thought.
Maka rocked back on her heels uneasily and clutched at her purse. She silently cursed the mass of butterflies that had taken refuge in her stomach – she hadn't had them this bad since the day she and Tsubaki had stood on the edge of the station platform back in Reno, Nevada in 1934, about to leave their lives and Death City behind.
"Oh! There!" Tsubaki suddenly exclaimed, waving to the very men they were waiting for.
"Hey! What's buzzin' cousin?" Blake asked as they approached. "You birds have fun knockin' it out on the floor this evening?"
"Don't we always?" Tsubaki asked, looking up at him as she slipped her arm through his.
Blake gazed down at her with such adoration it made Maka's heart clench. Tsubaki hadn't had the easiest life growing up – her parents had mostly ignored her in favor of her older brother. In fact, when she had approached them with the news that she was moving east with Maka, she hadn't gotten much more than a "good luck, be safe." So to see her now, with someone who evidently thought she hung the moon in the sky, meant the world to Maka as well.
"I hope you don't mind," Blake said apologetically, looking up at both Maka and Soul, "but I've gotta run home to drop off my trumpet. I don't wanna be lugging this thing around all night. Don't go into a decline and go on without us – we'll be back in a jiffy!"
Maka could only watch her friend's retreating back, having been entirely unaware of Tsubaki's oncoming duplicity. Immediately, the butterflies in her stomach increased tenfold at her heightened awareness of the man who had come to stand beside her.
"I do believe we've been had," Soul commented lightly.
Maka let out an unladylike snort before she could stop herself. "You think?" she asked.
"Uhm, yeah. Uhh … is this okay? We can, uh, go back with them if you want."
She studied him for a moment as he shifted anxiously in the dim light spilling from the dance hall. His hand flew up to rub at the back of his neck, and miraculously, her stomach began to settle. He was just as nervous as she was, she realized.
"No," she found herself saying, and the single word startled them both. "No, it's … it's okay. They'll catch up with us later, right?"
"Right. Uh. Shall we?" He offered his arm to her, and she smiled as she took it, albeit hesitantly.
"Lead on."
Blake and Tsubaki never caught up with them that night, which, as they would confirm later, had been the plan all along. It was no matter; once the two got over their initial nervousness, the conversation flowed freely between them, and all else fell away. It had already been late by the time Spartoi had finished their set that night, and so their first date consisted of a stroll around Central Park and a late dinner at a small diner awash with warm yellow light.
Soul wouldn't have had it any other way, and Maka had assured him, as they stood on the doorstep to her apartment complex late that night, that she felt the same way.
He hadn't kissed her, though, and Blake immediately gave him shit for it upon his return home.
"Now, Maka ain't no able grable," Blake said as soon as he'd fished the recap of the night out of Soul, ambushing the platinum-haired man outside his apartment. "But still! You could have at least kissed her goodnight, chucklehead!"
Soul simply shrugged; in all honesty, he didn't really want to talk about this just now. "Lay off it," he said as he unlocked the door to his apartment. "It was only the first date. It felt too soon."
"You're such a crumb," was the response, "but that's why the great Blake Barrett is here to help you!"
Soul rolled his eyes at that as he opened the door. "Goodnight, Blake. I'll see you tomorrow."
Blake caught the door before he could close it. "Tell ya what. This Saturday. You, me, the gals, all togged to the bricks. We'll go see a picture, and I promise that 'Baki and I won't fade on you this time."
A sigh escaped Soul's lips. "Yeah, all right," he conceded. "Goodnight!"
With that, he stepped into his apartment and closed the door firmly behind him. He waited a moment for Blake to return to his own apartment, then slumped back against the door as he removed his tie. He allowed it to hang loosely over his shoulders as he removed his hat and jacket and hung them off to the side.
The best part of living alone was that there was no one else there to see him as his face broke into a giddy, unrestrained smile. If he practically danced across the small living room in a rather undignified manner, well, there was no one there to see that, either.
He collapsed onto the small, lumpy sofa and sighed. How in the world could he have gotten this lucky?
Maka Albarn was, in a word, amazing. Brilliant. Perfect. Well, that was three words, but they all worked together to demonstrate how thoroughly head over heels he was for the small spitfire of a woman already. While it had taken them both some time to get over the initial awkwardness, they had quickly fallen into conversation as if they had known each other for months instead of mere days.
Maka was quick-witted and intelligent, as well as opinionated and hardly afraid to show it. It was a stark contrast to the women his parents had tried to introduce him to back home, and it was honestly quite refreshing. He'd told her as such when she'd cut herself off and apologized for talking so much, and the surprised look in her eyes and her subsequent delighted grin had set his heart racing.
Who was he kidding? It had begun racing before Spartoi had even started their set that night, and his heartbeat had yet to slow its breakneck pace.
Was it too early to say that he was in love? It was too early, surely it was. But as he lay there on the sofa, he had to admit to himself – albeit silently – that he was certainly headed that way. He could do no more to stop it than he could to stop the sun from rising in the morning.
It was with no small amount of effort that he pushed himself up several minutes later in order to practice the piano a bit before he went to bed. He was very careful about picking pieces that could hardly be construed as romantic, because he wanted to avoid the inevitable ragging on he'd get from Blake the next morning if he played anything incriminating.
Nevertheless, he couldn't wait until Saturday.
Maka had her head in the clouds for the rest of the week after her date with Soul. Sure, she kept it together well enough that her work at Stein & Gorgon didn't suffer for it, but it wasn't like secretary work took a large amount of concentration in the first place. Medusa Gorgon had snapped at her for being overly cheerful, but even that hadn't dulled her mood.
She had tried to stay guarded, really she had. All the reasons for not getting into a relationship still stood, but the more time she had spent with Solomon Evans that night, the easier it became to forget about them. Soul was unlike any other man she had dated. He wasn't overconfident of himself. He didn't treat her like some shrinking violet. He had encouraged her to share her thoughts and opinions, and he had actually listened.
He had stood up for Tsubaki, and when Maka found herself confessing to her move from Nevada and her own half-Japanese heritage, he had simply taken her hand and asked her if she knew any of the language. He had been so excited when she said she did, and then shared that back in Connecticut, his parents had made him learn French, a stuffy, aristocratic language that he hated.
They had spent nearly half an hour teaching each other phrases in their second languages as they wandered through Central Park, and nearly a week later, Maka still couldn't believe she had gotten this lucky.
It was Saturday night, and she and Tsubaki were out with Soul and Blake on their first double date, since Tsubaki and Blake had so summarily ditched them earlier that week. Maka had chewed Tsubaki out for ditching her the way she had, but she couldn't stay mad for long, especially when Tsubaki had asked her how the night had gone.
But all had been forgiven, and they had gone to see Sun Valley Serenade, a comedy featuring the Glenn Miller Orchestra. Maka and Soul had actually watched the film, while Blake and Tsubaki had missed most of it necking in seats beside them.
"I can't believe he chose to marry her!" Maka exclaimed as they left the theater. "After what she pulled?"
"To be fair," Blake interjected, "his girlfriend was kind of a drip."
Maka shrugged. "Yeah, but …" she sighed. "Never mind. The music was fantastic, wasn't it?"
"Yeah!" Tsubaki enthused. "Do you think you could get Spartoi to do that thing with the trombones?"
"I could suggest it, but I think Spartoi's trombone section would just end up knockin' each other out," Blake said, lighting a cigarette from the tin he carried. "It would be real Dillinger if we could get it to work though."
Maka withdrew from the conversation, lost in her own thoughts as they walked down the street toward a nearby diner. The movie itself had been a lighthearted comedy, but the newsreels that played before the feature film still bothered her. The war was only escalating outside the comfortable bubble that was United States Isolationism, and that bubble got closer and closer to popping every day, no matter what the Isolationists claimed. President Roosevelt had already frozen Japanese assets and suspended relations, and just earlier that month the United States had announced an oil embargo against aggressor states.
The majority of the country was shoving its collective head in the sand, but what good would that do when a bomb landed on the beach next to it?
"You've been awfully quiet," Soul murmured to her as the four of them entered the diner. "Is everything okay?"
Maka sighed as they all slid into a booth, she and Tsubaki sitting across from the men. "I was just thinking about the newsreels," she admitted. "We're getting pulled into this war whether we want to be or not."
Tsubaki hummed absently, having heard her. "It's awful that they have to show those newsreels before the pictures – especially when the picture is a comedy! They're such a downer."
"I think it's important to know what's happening," Soul said. "Like Maka said, we're not entirely unaffected."
"At least the pictures cheer you up afterwards," Blake chipped in.
"It's just," Maka said, "Lindbergh is an idiot. The thought that the United States can stay out of this war entirely is preposterous! We're only delaying the inevitable, and the longer we do so, the worse it gets over there."
"You want us to go to war?" Soul asked, alarmed.
Maka felt her heart sink. "I want to help. The Lend-Lease Act is all well and good, but we could be doing so much more. It's not like we're trying to preserve some sense of neutrality – we've already chosen our side!"
"But Maka, if we go to war, thousands of men will die!"
It was an argument that Maka and Tsubaki had hashed out several times already. Tsubaki was ever a pacifist, and while Maka loved her for it, it was something they would never be able to agree on.
Maka sighed. "Thousands of men are already dying," she said, "and we shouldn't subscribe to the idea that it's 'better them than us,' because if Hitler wins, he's sure as hell coming this way next, and if he does, we'll be doing all our fighting then – and without allies, because they'll all have been defeated already."
"Maka's right," Blake said after a moment. "I'd do anything for my shot at a couple Nazis, but I doubt the army would take me, with my shit lungs and all."
The waitress came then to take their drink orders, and a solemn silence fell over their table as soon as she left.
"I'm sorry," Maka said. "I don't mean to be such a wet blanket, but it's just really been on my mind the past couple weeks, you know?
"No, it's all right," Soul said, leaning back in the booth. "I mean, you make a good point, but it all seems so far away, you know? We occasionally see it in the papers or in the newsreels, but it really doesn't affect us all that much at the moment. It seems silly to jump in before we really have to."
Maka shrugged and traced designs absently into the tabletop with her finger. "I guess," she said as the waitress came back with their drinks. She waited until after they had all given their meal orders to say, "I just hate feeling like I could be doing so much more, but knowing I can't."
She felt Soul's knee nudge hers beneath the table, and when she looked up, she couldn't help but smile weakly back at him.
They moved on to safer topics after that, and the rest of dinner passed smoothly. Later that evening, as they were walking home, Soul and Maka trailed far enough behind Blake and Tsubaki that they were out of earshot. All was silent for a good while, both lost deep in thought.
"Hey," Soul said, breaking the silence as he bumped Maka's shoulder. "It's gonna be okay, I promise."
A bitter laugh escaped the small woman. "How can you be so sure?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Everything that's happening over there right now? Hitler, the Axis, the war? It don't mean a thing. We can't do anything about it, even if we wanted to. What matters right now is what's happening here. You and me, Blake and Tsubaki. Spartoi, the Shibusen. Your work at Stein & Gorgon. It's all just as important."
Maka paused beneath a streetlight, and Soul stumbled over himself in his last-second attempt to stop as well. A small smile pulled at the corner of her painted red lips, and she planted the hand that wasn't in his on her hip as she turned to face him.
"Who are you and what did you do with Soul? The man I know could never give a speech so eloquent."
"Uhm. I, uh –"
The small smile morphed into a full-blown grin. "There he is," she said fondly. Stepping in, she leaned up on her tiptoes and planted a small kiss on his cheek. Soul stood there beneath the streetlight, gobsmacked, as Maka pulled away. She giggled at the expression on his face as she wiped the small red lipstick stain from his skin. It did nothing to lessen the red blush that had spread across his cheeks, however.
"You're right though," she conceded as she started walking again. "What you said before. There's nothing we can do, so I should really just stop stressing about it so much. What happens will happen."
"Uh, right," Soul said as he made to follow her. Tugging his hand from hers, he then pulled her in closer to his side as they walked the rest of the way to her apartment building. He wondered, yet again, how on Earth could have gotten so lucky.
They came to a halt on the steps outside Maka's building, and Soul found himself lingering, hesitating, unwilling to let the night come to an end.
"I had fun tonight," Maka said, standing one step above him. Despite the added height, she still stood a couple inches shorter than he did. "We should do this again sometime."
"Yeah," Soul said with a love-struck grin he couldn't control. His eyes met hers, and in the yellowed light of the streetlamps, it was clear to see when she glanced down at his lips. Steeling his nerves, he reached up to cup the side of her face. He leaned in close, close enough to feel the warmth of her breath ghosting over his cheek. He swallowed hard as he tried to gather himself.
"Is this okay?" he asked in a strangled whisper.
"Yes," Maka breathed, the following 'please' absorbed into the night as he pressed his lips to hers.
It was a chaste kiss, but perfect all the same as his dry lips brushed against her soft, waxy red ones. His heart stuttered in his chest before regaining its footing to beat double-time against his ribs. In that moment, he felt as though he would float away if he weren't careful. Neither of them spoke as they pulled apart. Soul was giddy beyond words, and he suspected that Maka felt much the same way as she blinked and cast him a shy smile.
"Goodnight, Soul," she said, then turned and jogged up the rest of the stairs. At the top, she turned back and waved to him before disappearing inside.
Soul blinked. "Goodnight," he said belatedly, even though Maka was far out of earshot.
He then turned and headed back to his own apartment, and if there was a certain skip in his step, well. It wasn't like anyone could blame him.
