Ugh, I utterly detest how bland this chapter is :{

Oh, well. Bear with me people, I just need to get to my era and I will shine brighter than Black*Star after he eats a glow stick.

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater, Tupperware, Sleepless in Seattle,nster, or Bo-Flex.

However I do own my OC's and the story.

Jake punched the swinging punching bag, putting all his frustration into his own swings. He made sure to time his fist thrusts so that he landed them when the bag swung back to him. His body was tense with frustration. Every time his fist landed with a satisfying 'thwak' his body relaxed and then tensed up again.

This was all he could do.

Thump

This was all he'd be able to do.

Thump

No matter how hard he trained,-thump- no matter how many times he tried -thump, thwack- all because he didn't have a weapon to put up with his -fump, thwack- albeit rigorous methods of training.

Jake shook out his taped hands and rubbed his knuckles. He stared at the swinging bag of sand as it slowed to a stop in time with his pounding heart. He let out his breath in a long sigh. Pulling off his shirt, Jake walked across his studio apartment into the kitchenette area. He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.

Just as he was about to shut the refrigerator door, he paused. Bottled water, leftover take-out, energy and protein drinks, a pint of half melted mint chocolate chip ice cream, and an ominous looking Tupperware container was all that was stuffed into the tiny chiller. In the back of his mind he made a mental note to cook something to eat soon. Mostly it just looked very bland. Something in Jake ached as he slammed the fridge shut.

The walls were white; the floor was mostly the ugliest carpet ever, with tile in the kitchen and bathroom; the windows looked out over the street and the neighboring buildings, and he had no decorations except the few pictures he had cluttered on his dresser. The majority of the apartment was crowded with exercise equipment and weights; his bed and dresser were pushed into the far corner. Other than that, nothing else was taking up space in the small apartment.

Jake leaned against the fridge and propped his left foot on his right as he took a gulp from the water bottle. He observed the scene with the usual brooding thoughts as when he usually recognized how lonely and selfish he was living.

Suddenly Jake's thoughts were interrupted by a his doorbell ringing continuously. He took another swig of water before he pushed off the fridge and made his way over to the door; the door bell still ringing obnoxiously. When Jake looked through the peep-hole he noticed that it was being covered. Rolling his eyes, Jake weighed the pros and cons of just walking away from the door. Finally he just decided his day couldn't get any worse, and just opened the door.

Standing in the doorway was a silver haired boy with slightly darker silver eyes. His skin was slightly yellowed, revealing his half oriental background. On top of his messy silver hair he wore a black, ridiculously patched ... hat ... thing with ties that hung down past his shoulders. He was about 2-3 inches shorter than Jake. Despite the hot, dry, summer air he wore a long sleeved, black shirt with a white tie graffic on it, black jeans tucked into boots decorated with black buckles, and black woolen gloves. His name was Zephyr Harrington, came from some weird country in Europe (at least Jake thought it was Europe) when he found out he had the ability to turn into a double bladed battle axe.

He looked Jake up and down. "Nice pec's. Now put on a shirt; you're just embarrassing yourself."

Jake choked on the swig of water he was about to swallow. Meanwhile Zephyr invited himself in and walked past Jake to dump two plastic bags onto his kitchen counter. "Alright, girl, no need to cry. It's not you, it's him. I brought ice cream and the sappiest chick flicks I could find at the Gallows. Now wipe that scowl off your face and tell me everything."

Jake slammed the door behind him. "Please, come 'n. Not like I mind."

"Good. Now, which should we watch first, Sleepless in Seattle or The Note Book? This place smells like crap by the way; when was the last time you cleaned?" He smirked at Jake, while the latter just glared in annoyance.

The fellow teen was a the weapon to the current Shinigami-sama's first daughter, a EAT class student (obviously), and a tolerated annoyance/only friend that Jake had. Partnership had been attempted once (a very... very... very long time ago), however their souls hadn't matched up very well and in the end Jake wasn't even able to wield Zephyr due to mismatched wavelengths. Following which the two had just remained as a pain in the neck to the other/friends.

Jake pulled a (possibly) clean tee shirt on and unwrapped his hands. "'Dunno. Las' month? An' I don' even have a TV."

Zephyr made a face as he rummaged through Jake's fridge and chugged a Monster. Jake started pulling what looked more like leftovers in Tupperware containers rather than ice cream out of the plastic bags. No movies to be found. "Ya replacin' tha'."

Zephyr waved him off as he finished the energy drink and crushed the can; leftover liquid dripped onto the floor. "An' wipin' tha' up."

The weapon wiped up the spill with a paper towel while Jake looked through the leftovers. One looked suspiciously like a little combination of cheese, noodles, and tomato sauce that made him drooling.

"'oly heifer, 's this lasagna?"

"Yup."

"Oh lord, Missus Death loves me."

For a second Zephyr's expression seemed to change as he looked around the bland apartment. But then it quickly returned to his usual annoying half smirk. "Do you want to go running?"

Jake paused his task of making room in the small fridge to look up at Zephyr from his crouched position. Quirking an eyebrow Jake asked, "Care ta repeat tha'?"

"Running, jogging, walking quickly, go make our lungs bleed. I've also got this place I want to say you. What'do you say?"

"Wen' joggin' this mornin'. Plus ya hate runnin'." Zephyr rolled his eyes as Jake deadpanned at him.

"Dude, you know you want to. Just accept. I'm tired of dealing with you angsty, little sad sap."

Jake glared at Zephyr that time. It was true that Zephyr did not particularly find voluntary running/jogging/any exercise to be enjoyable. However, the weapon did endure his partner's daily rigorous training schedule. Still, after the required work out time the boy would eat half a tub of ice cream and force his partner to play Candy Crush with him. The boy had the metabolism of a gray hound.

The purple haired meister narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the grinning, pre-diabetic imp before him. "Wha' place ya takin' me ta?"

Zephyr just rolled his eyes. "Dude, do you have to question it? Come on, it'll be fine. No chances of being arrested, I swear!"

"Riiiight, like last time when you took me to-"

"EH! I thought we agreed never to speak of it again! Plus that wasn't entirely my fault. Now, are you coming, or are you going to sit here and eat leftovers and cuddle with your precious Bo-Flex?"

The meister just glared at Zephyr some more. After the stare-down had continued for a few minutes, Jake sighed. After rubbing his face into his hands, he stood up in utter defeat and went over to put on his boots again. As much as he wanted to sulk for once, exercising would be better in the long run anyway.

"That's the spirit! Now let's go, Plum-Head, we're gonna be late!" Zephyr threw the door to the apartment open and herded Jake out before the teen could even get his other boot on. The silver haired boy jumped to the landing below as Jake hopped around pulling his boot on.

"Late for what?!"

And so it begins *evil laugh*