A/N: A very short and possiblyshitty chapter. I promise next week will have a longer one (and better one). Anyway I hope it is possible to enjoy it in the least.

"It hurts like shit. Did 'ya know that?" Soul spat as he sat in his bed. Kid shrugged. "Well, it does."

"It is a serious injury, I would guess that it does hurt." Kid groaned and paced about, his arms crossed. "She will be back soon with lunch."

"How are you, Kid?" He said with slight sass.

"Fine, and I bet youre dandy."

"Yes, can't you tell." They gave eachother a cheeky smile. "How's Maka holding up?" Kid stared at him with an almost distrust. "You came in together, so are you guys talking?"

"Yes, it has been a while."

"I'm like the bond that brings people together. I am Jesus."

"Then you are Black-Star's son."

"Yahoo!"

"Two sandwiches, one salad and jello." Maka said. Tsubaki dropped the jello and sat down in a chair.

"Thank you Maka." Soul said she beamed and Kid could see the red in her eyes. Poor hungover Maka. "How are you?"

"Good." She lied. "You?"

"I'm apparently dandy, Kid is a doctor." The patient said as Kid groaned from one chair. He unfolded his sandwich and began to eat. He looked tired too, but somehow it worked. It worked with his sturdy yet delicate features and wavy black hair. Even the dark circles could look good on him.

"I had no idea."

"Yes, but really they say I'll go home next week." Soul said.

"Really?" She said and smiled widely at the bed. "That's great."

"I'll have to be in bed rest, however."

"I'll make sure your bed is clean, then."

"Thank you, Maka." He said and she smiled and rubbed her nose. Tsubaki then left with Black-Star out of the hospital room and Kid soon followed, and the white door secured their secrecy.

"I am so sorry."

"Maka, you realize it's my fault. I'm an idiot." 'That's what Kid said too' she thought and rested her head on his shoulder and whimpered. Souls heart twinged like a broken stick, he never heard Maka like this, other than the times when she got mad, but this, it was pathetic that she could even blame herself. Maka was not pathetic. "Maka, listen to me. I went alone cause I thought I could handle it. I couldn't. Okay?" She nodded and reached for the wrinkled cloth that she had grown accustomed to carrying.

"I'm sorry, I should have said yes. Or something."

"No, you shouldn't have. You are not an idiot." She nodded and straightened, wiping her face and he stiffened; taking the handkerchief from her he examined it. "Why do you have Kid's handkerchief? I can't believe he has one, what a nerd."

"No, it's nice, it comes in handy."

"Maka. Why?"

"He is a friend, Soul. That's not the point, you know that." He glared at her, like it was going to combust and burn his fingers. It didnt. "Forget the handkerchief, it's not a big deal."

"Whatever." He tossed it to her.

"I'll be back tomorrow, with books."

"See ya." He spat and his chest ached with both surgery and jealousy. Jealousy, the jealousy he had only felt for Maka and another girl in fourth grade. A jealousy that she could see other people, a jealousy of those other people. He had felt it almost two years ago, when she and Kid had to make a diagram of a witch soul. Of course, they did well, and the replica was symmetrical and almost exact. He had to come over one day and she was laughing and he was laughing; Soul was not laughing. He was frowning.

Black-Star and Tsubaki filed in for their short conversation and Maka leaned against the wall next to the bench. The damned bench. She looked at it and kicked it. Hard. It shook and Kid flung himself from the bench where he had been reading. It hummed like bees and the wood creaked. She pulled back her foot again to kick it once more but stopped. Kid leaned over her and peered into her face. His strange amber eyes looking into her face that was shadowed by her hair. He peered at her and straightened up once more.

"Are you mad?"

"It's my right to feel emotions, so I am mad." She crossed her arms. "The bench was in the way."

"Did Soul say anything?"

"No." She said. "Yes."

"What?" His voice was soft as he just peered into her hooded face.

"He just needs to get better so he can put up a fight." He smiled and she wrung the white linin. They both noticed how she clung to it. "Thanks for the-"

"The handkerchief?" She nodded. "Keep it." He said.

"No really." His eyes flared and she nodded, stuffing it into her coat pocket. He gave a crooked smile. They both looked at eachother and he blushed profusely. Like an angry volcano.

"I'm, um, going to get some coffee. Want some?" He asked finally.

"No." He turned away from her and scratched his neck as he paced to the neon machine and drank it slowly as he entered hospital room that smelled like salt and pain. You can't really describe the smell of pain but there is one.