Maka sighed disparagingly.
It's been almost a year at the academy, and despite her best efforts she still could not find the one. Her partner, her soul's match.
Sure it sounded kind of romantic in that context, but to her, not finding her partner simply obstructed her plans for life. Her plans of making a death scythe even stronger than her worthless Papa and being able to fill her mother's shoes.
She'd refused to tell anyone her surname, and instead used her mother's maiden name whenever people questioned her. She knew by being the current Death Scythe's daughter, she'd be swarmed with weapons requesting to be her partner simply for the possibility of meeting him.
They thought he was something to look up to.
Tch. Right.
She fiddled with the buttons on her jacket and leaned against the wall, letting out a long, tired breath. She was doing as much as she could in her classes without a weapon, but it was hard. They were still just learning the basics, about different types of souls, the point of being in a partnership, and so on.
She already knew all of this.
Maka tugged on her gloves, boredom eating at her and forcing her to think about unlikely scenarios.
What if she never found a partner? If she didn't, Mama would be disappointed. Maka can't fail her!
Maka promised when Mama left that she would make her proud. She promised to fight for good.
But how can she do that without a weapon partner?
Maka sighed and continued walking down the hallway, waiting for Spirit to be done so they could go his house.
It stopped being home when her family broke.
She tugged on her pigtail. She was restless. She knew what all the other partnered students were doing. They were training, learning tactical plans and preparing for their first missions.
Maka stopped. She shook her head of all the negative notions.
She set her jaw and her eyes became hard and determined.
She would find a partner. She would find a scythe, even, and she would make her into the strongest death scythe Lord Death had ever seen.
She promised her mother she'd keep courage.
"Okay, honey." Soul frowned at the endearment.
He found Cassandra's new behaviour towards him unsettling. She'd started being kind when Soul had left the music room to head towards his room, bracing himself for the hunger pangs that were sure to come. He felt resentment for the mysterious Kami because she'd caused him to mess up the recital.
But to his utter surprise and confusion, his mother had found him, asking him why he hadn't come down to dinner yet.
He'd replied, saying the recital had gone awry and knew his dinner was confiscated.
She'd laughed, an odd laugh, strained, and told him he was silly.
Silly.
Silly?
He'd ground his teeth.
"What do you mean, silly?"
She shook her head at him lightly. "Your dinner wasn't confiscated. Why in the world would I starve you for something entirely out of your control?"
Soul snapped. He felt the unfamiliar jolt of electricity in his arm and he saw his mother's face pale as she stepped back. "Excuse me?! Are you seriously fucking asking me that?!"
She put on a stern expression and rose a finger at him. "Now Soul, I'm still your mother and you will not speak to me that way."
He shook his head and laughed bitterly. "Oh hell no. You have to be shitting me."
She gasped in repulsion at his behaviour but he cut her off.
"Finally, after fourteen years, you're finally ready to step up and claim that role? After treating me like you did?!"
Usually he wore a mask, covering up his emotions so no one would see through him to the pain and hurt he felt. He needed to seem alright. He needed to seem like a perfectly content child, especially in front of people outside of the family.
But now, the mask was gone, thrown in the metaphorical dumpster. His anger was the most apparent emotion, rage making his blood-red eyes burn and fury contorting his mouth into a large snarl, revealing his demon teeth.
But there was also disbelief evident in his wide eyes and the looseness of his jaw. Hurt in his furrowed brows.
All she saw was rage, and she was terrified. The combination of the rare and strong emotion evident on his demonly face and the light glaring off of the large blade replacing his arm.
She'd felt bad for that exact reason. For treating her son like a monster, a demon, an abomination, when in fact he was born to protect the world.
But here, she was doubting that.
He looked like the spawn of hell, hatred coming from him in waves and all the blood red frightening her terribly.
He saw the fear on her face, and it took him a minute to register it before his arm flashed back to normal, and he drained his face clean of emotion.
He was hungry, but he did not want to be anywhere near his monster of a mother. "I'm going to bed. I'm leaving tomorrow for Nevada."
It'd been almost a week, actually. To set up his living affairs, notify the academy, and procrastinate. Now here he was, forcing himself not to shove her hands away as she straightened his tie. He'd wanted this, no? His parents' love and attention? But he'd only gotten it once he was leaving. He was getting what he wanted after he finally didn't want it anymore.
Cassandra refrained from wrinkling her nose at his suit. Wes had given him this suit, black with red pinstripes, stating that is was very Soul.
She pulled away, smiling slightly at him. "You have your account, your plane's leaving in half an hour, you're ready to go."
Soul nodded and turned away from her, grabbing the only suitcase he packed, leaving behind the bag his mother packed. He opened the door and stepped out only to hear the voice he'd been avoiding.
"What, no goodbye to your big brother?" Soul turned slowly to see Wes. This was what he'd been avoiding, the hurt on his face, the sad smile and the awkward goodbye.
Soul smiled at his brother. Well, he was here now. Might as well milk the moment.
He dropped his bag rushed over to his big brother, wrapping his arms around Wes' lean torso. He pressed his face into his older brother's suit and found the familiar scent incredibly comforting.
Wes held back his tears and smiled down at the head of white that was buried in his chest. Wes didn't want to have to say goodbye to him, but this was for the best.
It was what was best for his brother.
Wes returned the hug, crushing Soul in his arms. "I'll miss you little brother."
Soul nodded, unable to speak with the tears blocking his voice. Soul sniffed and pulled away, wiping his eyes furiously.
Wes smiled at the emotion on his brother's face, glad that his time of hiding and pretending was coming to an end. He gasped and remembered his gift. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a golden watch. He held it out to his brother. "I forgot to wrap it, but here."
Soul took the watch, holding it delicately. He spun it over to find an engraving on the back.
Soul~
Don't hide from anything anymore. You're free.
Love, Wes.
Soul put the watch on quickly and hugged his brother again.
Cassandra ruined their moment. "Soul, sweetheart, you're going to miss your plane if you don't leave right now."
Soul and Wes both turned and shot a glare at her, Wes' more discreet but still there.
Wes gripped his brother's shoulder and gave him a sad half-smile. "I'll call you when I can."
Soul nodded and chuckled a bit. "I have your number."
Wes led Soul back to the door and picked his bag up, handing it to him. "Promise me you'll stay cool, Soul."
Soul smirked. "Since when aren't I?"
Wes smirked back and ruffled Soul's already messy hair. "Alright, alright. Now don't miss your plane, little brother. That would be very uncool."
Soul nodded, his smile melting into a warm one that was reserved only for his brother. "I love you, Wes."
Wes copied his smile. "I love you too, Soul. Now go, make me even prouder of you."
Soul laughed and turned, stepping into the limousine that was to take him to the airport, turning only to wave to his brother one more time. Then the door closed and he was on his way to his new future.
Maka sighed. Finally, Friday.
Then she had the weekend to mope about her lack of progress in finding a partner.
She slapped her palm to her head. How come Blackstar could find a partner, and she couldn't?!
Her shoulders drooped pathetically.
And it didn't help that Spirit was being clingier than usual.
She walked down the familiar hallways, trying to think of all the academic progress she's made. Sure, everyone else had gotten their first mission today, but whatever. She was still the top of her class as far as the textbook knowledge went.
"Hey, Maka." She groaned. It was them.
"Hey, you little nerd, do you hear me?" She turned to see the 'gorgons' approaching her. When she'd started her training at the DWMA, she assumed the bullying would be nonexistent. You know, because you have to be able to trust everyone at the academy with your life in the face of battle.
Bullying tends to put a damper on trust.
Maka didn't understand why they even cared about her. She was just Maka Domen to them. Just the bookworm who mostly kept to herself unless conversing with Blackstar and his weapon partner.
She never did anything to them.
She supposed bullying was always pointless, with no discernible logic behind it.
She turned on her heel and walked in the other direction. The 'gorgons' kept following her hissing things along the lines of, "Oh my Death, how is she the top of the class? She can't even understand us!", or "She must think she's so much better than us. She doesn't even have a weapon!"
Maka picked up her pace, not wanting to engage with them. She knew that if she did, she'd just be opening a can of worms that she didn't have the interest or patience to deal with.
She turned the corner and opened the closest door she saw, stepping in quietly and quickly, and closing the door without a sound so they couldn't follow her. She heard them walk by and hiss more insults at her as they continued down the corridor.
She let out a breath and leaned on the door resting her back against it.
"Hey." She opened her eyes to look around the room until she saw a guy around her age standing near the piano near the wall of the music room.
She looked at him, at his curious red eyes were looking her over and his lips were pressed together tightly. He wore a red pinstripe suit, and the elegance of it clashed greatly with the disarray of his snowy locks.
"Hi."
Soul's flight had been long and uneventful. His stomach was turning with anxiety and it'd been a great relief when he finally landed in Death City, Nevada.
Luckily, his family had very good connections and he'd gotten an apartment near the school, knowing that he'd have to walk if he didn't want to show up in some fancy limousine everyday.
While on the flight, Soul had done a lot of thinking. He'd decided that it be for the best if he didn't reveal his background to anyone at the academy. He wanted a clean slate, to start over. He wanted all of the judging gazes to be gone and to be normal.
Or as normal as he could be.
He'd gotten out, sent his luggage with the driver that was supposed to take him home before he went to the Death Weapon Meister Academy to enroll himself. But he decided he needed time alone, to think.
So he walked. He walked. He walked. He stopped. He was in a plaza. He took in the busy people, all walking to their destinations, some people in small groups or couples entirely committed to their conversation.
Not a single glance shot his direction.
He smirked, pleased by this fact and continued walking, at a slower pace, avoiding the crowd and observing it from a distance. He did not, by any means, want to become a part of that crowd.
That would draw unwanted attention.
He continued walking, shoving his hands into his pockets and leading with his feet, letting his torso lean back as he observed the sun.
It looked different in America... For one, he could look right at it, and... it seemed...
Almost... alive.
Soul smirked at the thought and shook his head, blowing it off as an absurd hallucination from being holed up in the plane for so long.
He paused as he caught sight of a store with something yellow in the display. He walked towards it and paused there. It was a jacket, with yellow and black clashing together in a nice way. What intrigued him was the small patch on the left breast and it's matching counterpart.
They looked kind of like... a soul?
He smirked wider and made a note to himself to come back to this place when he was settled in. He would after all need a new wardrobe if he was going to be blending in. Judging by the people walking around him, he determined that his suits were not going to do the trick.
What was the name of this place? He chuckled when he looked. Death's Wardrobe.
What was with that? Death Weapon Meister Academy, Death City, now, Death's Wardrobe?
These people were kind of morbid.
He continued walking until he found the address of the academy, which was right in the middle of the small city.
He gaped at the steps, wondering if he really needed to climb all of these everyday just to get an education.
But he climbed them anyway, resulting in him being very out of breath when he reached the top of the stairs. He walked up to the entrance and looked around at the empty corridors that looked much less intimidating than the building itself. He glanced down at his new watch and found there was plenty of time until he needed to get to the office.
He looked at the stairs leading up and down in front of him and the long corridors on either side of him.
"Might as well start looking for it."
After wandering for awhile, opening doors where he knew there weren't classes going on, he found a large mahogany door with a large G-clef engraved in it. And of course the small skull decorating every door he'd seen so far at the top of the door.
He opened it, peeking in only to find the lighting to be dim. He opened the door further and stepped in out of curiosity. The door closed behind him and forced his eyes to adjust to the darker lighting. It didn't take long.
He blinked.
He blinked again.
In front of him was a large sleek, black grand piano. He took a few steps forward and noticed that the fall board was already up. He let his hand run over the piano, appreciating the smoothness. He let his fingers run over the keys, not pressing them at all, but feeling the cool ivory on the pads of his calloused fingers.
He heard some quiet shuffling behind him and the door scrape against the floor softly. He turned slowly and found a girl who looked much younger than him pressing her ear against the door she just entered. Her hair looked blonde and was tied up into pigtails. She wore a black trench coat, cloak, thing, that clung to her small waist rather tightly.
He couldn't see her face too clearly and she didn't seem to notice him. He felt nervous, he didn't quite know why though.
She sighed loudly and turned to rest her back against the door, her eyes closed and her knees bent with relief.
He smiled slightly at her plump cheeks and nodded to himself. She has to be at most eleven.
But he wanted to see those eyes. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted her to know he was there. He wanted to make his presence known.
"Hey." He blurted out. He snapped his mouth shut and pressed his lips together.
Her eyes opened to reveal a shocking shade of green filled with surprise. They met his own and he eyed her curiously as she looked him over. He wondered how she would react.
"Hi." She responded simply.
That worked for him.
They looked at each other for awhile, waiting for the other to make the first move.
At the same time, Maka pushed herself off of the door and Soul moved and sat on the piano bench.
Maka clasped her hands behind her back and watched him as he let his hands trail over the keys again. She tilted her head. "Do you play?"
Soul turned to her with a raised brow and surprise in his eyes. Then he shook his head a bit, remembering that no one here knew who he was, and smirked, revealing a mouth full of shark-like teeth. "A little."
Maka took a step forward and his smirk disappeared, fading into shock again.
Why didn't she step away? Didn't she see his teeth? Even that meister Kami was startled by his teeth, and a little shaken.
She smiled a small polite smile, somehow feeling comfortable with this stranger. "Are you good?"
He smiled a little. "Yeah, a little. I'm not as good as my brother though."
She rose a brow. "Your brother plays piano too?"
"No." He said, turning back to the piano. "What's your name?"
"Maka." She replied instantaneously. She took two steps forward. "Are you a new student here?"
Soul nodded quietly, still bewildered by her friendly disposition.
"Oh, that's great! I'm a meister here. What's your name?" Maka asked curiously, wanting for him to turn back to her and engage.
As though he read her mind he turned a head over his shoulder, giving her a good view of his red eyes and sharp teeth. When she didn't back away, he continued. "My name is Soul. This who I am."
He turned back to the piano, feeling her confused gaze trained on the back of his head. But it wasn't uncomfortable. He didn't want her to look away.
He wanted her to listen.
He pressed his hands to the keys, familiarizing himself with the foreign piano, pressing a few keys lightly. Then he began, starting off with softer notes, watching her as she stepped forward to stand next to him as he played. He saw her out of the corner of his eyes and smiled at her face. She looked surprised and as bewildered as he was with her.
He closed his eyes and lost himself in the notes, playing the song he'd played only twice in his life.
The song of his soul.
She stood beside him, her hands falling to her sides. She was surprised and confused when he first started, but when he seemed to start getting into it, the song change drastically. It was dark and pulled at her heartstrings. She wanted to cry for him, knowing this kind of music could only come from the soul.
She may not understand music, but she understood this much:
He was telling her his deepest secrets with these notes.
It wasn't the music that told her any of this, but the expression he wore. His white brows that proved his hair was natural were furrowed deeply and his eyes clenched shut with emotion and concentration. His leg was tapping to a pattern in the notes she couldn't make out and his lips were parted over his sharp teeth which were clenched as tightly as his eyes.
She watched and she listened and she felt her soul calling out to the music in a way that was bordering on painful. She smiled at the beauty behind it and her eyes became watery with the raw emotion she felt.
He threw his head back, his hands glued to the piano as his song hit its climax. He'd never played this passionately before and definitely didn't mean to play like this in front of Maka.
She brought her hand up to her chest, feeling her pounding heart as she leaned forward towards the enchanting sound.
His head fell forward and his shoulders followed suit, hunching up as he forced himself to play out the rest of the song. His fingers were starting to tingle and little did he know that Maka's were too.
His shoulders fell and his fingers began to trail off on the keys, ending the song illegitimately.
He left his hands on the keys, breathing deeply. He felt emotionally drained.
Maka let her hand drop and she took another step forward, standing right next to the bench at arm's length from Soul.
His head was down his bangs falling over his eyes messily. She touched his shoulder and he stiffened, ready to be scolded and feeling the ghost of pain on his hands from 'the ruler'.
"That was beautiful." Maka said quietly. His head shot up and he turned to her, his red eyes wide and his mouth open slightly in shock. "I've never heard anything so touching before..."
Soul blinked at her. "Thanks."
Maka nodded and rubbed the back of her head almost nervously. She wanted to ask him. She could feel his soul and she knew he was a weapon. She felt their souls reach out to each other positively while he was playing, and it made the tips of her fingers tingle.
"Um... Do you want to be partners?" Maka blurted out. It was better if the rejection was quick, and done without beating around the bush.
And she knew he would reject her because he was a man, and the only thing men cared about was sex. And Maka definitely was not offering sex, was not sexy or even adequate. She was just Maka.
He had no reason to accept her... or her offer.
He stared at her. He nodded slowly, wondering how she knew he was a weapon and how she kept her mask up. She was good. She kept the mask up without falter and was able to be pleasant.
He wondered how long she'd had to have had a mask, seeing as it was flawless. But he knew she had to be a little frightened, shaken, scared.
Maka blinked in surprise and he wondered if she'd wanted him to say no. Before he could take it back, though, she broke into a large grin, ecstatic that he accepted her offer. She quickly reigned in her excitement and settled for a small smile. She closed her eyes and raised a hand to remove her right glove. She held her small, yet capable hand out to him. "It's a promise."
Soul reached a hand out tentatively and touched the smooth palm of her hand. She grabbed his hand, surprising him with the firmness of her grip and she shook it once.
Then they just sat there for a moment. She felt the warmth of his hand seep into her usually cold one. She felt the callouses on his hands and assumed, from what she'd gathered from his performance, that they were from piano. She saw the tan of his skin contrast with her paler tone, and smiled.
She'd found the one.
A/N: Okay! It's an update day! Third chapter, and our favorite (hopefully) characters finally meet!
I hope this was good, I had a lot of fun with that little piano scene. Please review, and I feel I should let people know that I'm open to suggestions about what should happen, because this story is about the first time these two get 99 souls, so there are going to be a LOT of chapters. O.O I'm not sure I'm up for that without a little help from the audience. Thanks so much, Mermain123 and Ren (anon.) for reviewing! I'm glad SOMEONE likes my new story, but I know it needs to be longer before people can judge it. So thanks.
Please review and new update tomorrow!