Time for more mob lingo:
A contract: an arrangement to kill someone.
Whack: to kill someone
Wise guy: someone who associates with the mafia but isn't necessarily in one
Soul Eater roamed around Death City in the dead of night with his hat atop his head and pinstripe suit. His head was tilted downwards, shoulders hunched over near his face with his hands in his pants pocket. He didn't know why he felt so serious about doing this. Why he suppressed a spout of anger from within him as soon as he discovered that Maka had been hurt and nearly killed on his watch. He felt frustrated, like it was his duty to keep her safe. Of course, even if it wasn't his duty and he should've just killed her when he got the chance, he felt some sort of kindness owed to her even though he wasn't the charitable type of person who did things out of the goodness of his heart. After all, her father had helped them heavily when he was just starting his career as a mob boss.
He also couldn't help but dwell on Star's words. Capone knew something he didn't know about her father, and he was unwilling to spill. The man wanted Maka to be gone, but for what reason? What did she see in that house that was so important to Capone that he'd have to get rid of her? He couldn't go back to visit it now since it's now owned by the Capone mafia. He also knew that Capone probably had a key role in her father's disappearance. He just didn't know why.
Death City's streets were a deadly kind of quiet as he walked down the empty sidewalk. Even though there seemed to be no life outside, he can see building window lights illuminating the night. Disembodied shouts and muffled uproarious laughter emanated from the apartments above. Soul glanced to the other sidewalk cross the street. He knew that the assaulter had come this way, but he didn't know where. As the man fled from his yard and into the streets, he could've sworn he recognized him for a split second. It made his blood boil knowing that his own ally could go against him.
After wandering down the block for some time and finding no trace of the intruder, he decided that the man probably wasn't running anymore. Soul guessed he got cocky and decided to spoil himself after a failed assassination. He sets his sights straight ahead, where his favorite pub was. The most popular place to drink for grungy old men in all of Death City. Even though he was barely 18 years old, he still enjoyed indulging in alcohol. His position in the city allowed him to get practically anything he demanded. Only this time he wasn't here to get wasted.
Soul pushed the door open, ringing the bell on the top. The odor of stale beer and cigarette smoke and grime hit his nostrils. The pub's bar was occupied by older men ranging from burly to skinny. None of his men were there, though. The tables had some men hunched over with their drinks, sulking to themselves while loud country music droned on in the dimly-lit background. Soul pushed the rim of his hat up, revealing his sullen maroon gaze that roved around the room. The bartender noticed him. He motioned with one hand to take a seat while his other hand was occupied with the handle of an empty glass mug. The white-haired boss sat down and tried not to look too conspicuous, considering that he was the best dressed in the whole room and notorious for his vast crime ring throughout the city. "What'll it be, Mr. Evans?" the mustached man behind the bar asked secretively. "Whisky on the rocks tonight?" Before Soul could counter he reached for a small cup with ice and poured him his personal favorite drink.
He sighed. He couldn't resist one drink. "Thanks." He knocked it back with a quick gulp and settled down.
"Another?" he asked.
"Nope. Not tonight." Soul leaned in closer to the man. "I'm looking for a certain someone."
"Who're we talkin' about?"
"A man. You know, a guy who came in not too long ago. Tall, skinny, brown hair. Think you'd know a guy like that?"
The barman chuckled lightly. "I think I know who you're talkin' about. Ol' Giriko just came in here ten minutes before you."
"Where is he?"
"Down there. All the way at the end of the bar."
Soul slid off his seat and stuffed a hand in his pocket. He ventured past droopy-eyed glances and large men and spied the man sitting all the way on the last stool. The unshaven man was hunched over and glaring down into his bottle of beer. His chestnut hair was spiked up on the top in a near-mohawk, his jeans and black boots were soiled with dirt. Soul spotted grass stains on the fabric of his navy blue jeans. They looked fresh. He fit the description that Maka had described.
Soul stopped only five feet away from him until he glanced up. He caught Soul's gaze and fear entered his eyes. He immediately slipped off his chair. "Shit!" Giriko cussed and sprinted out the back door after knocking the barstool over.
A guttural growl escaped Soul's throat as he lunged after him, bursting through the door and into an abandoned back alley. Giriko scrambled down the straightaway of the dark cement path while started after him. "Get back here, bastard!" Soul yelled. He pulled a pistol from within his pocket and cocked it quickly, taking aim at the running man.
Girko swiftly rounded the corner, narrowly escaping the glint of Soul's bullet that hit the brick wall down the path. Soul turned after him, but the alleyway snaked into more corners. Even though he couldn't see Giriko directly he could hear every pant he uttered and each heavy-booted footstep. Soul heard trashcans being knocked over and as soon as he turned around the corridor, Giriko had downed all of the cans and sprawled them out across the narrow path, spewing bits of garbage on the concrete. "Try and get through that, ya little prick!" he could hear him sneer.
Soul forced himself to go faster and he hurled over the large canisters, barely breaking stride and continuing on while Giriko slowed to observe him. His smirk upside down immediately. Soul could see panic in his eyes as he barreled past Giriko's poorly place obstacle and charged towards him.
He took a right, then another short corridor squished in between two buildings and made a left. He was closing in on him. He could see his silhouette ducking into another alleyway every time Soul would round another. He let a bullet fly and it skimmed the edge of the man's darting shadow and then lodged into the wall. With increasing frustration, Soul sped his pace up. Finally, the short-lived chase came to an end as Giriko made a single wrong turn into a dead end brick wall.
Soul's shadow loomed towards him as he faced the wall. "Now, where were we?" Soul breathed, out of breath. Giriko spun around, panicked. He reached in his pocket quickly, but Soul shot first before the man could get to his pistol. Giriko roared with pain as a bullet lodged in his foot. He fell to one knee, biting his lips to stop any escaping grunts. "If you reach in your pocket again you're a dead man."
Giriko glanced up at him with a strained chuckle. "Now, now Eater, we don't hafta do this!" he said through grit teeth.
The white-haired mob boss advanced towards him with a low, dangerous glint in his eyes. "Don't fuck with me. You were in my house, not too long ago."
He managed another weak chuckle as a scarlet liquid seeped from the top of his boot. "W-whaddya talkin' about? I wasn't near ya house, I swear!" he spat.
Soul aimed barrel higher and shot another bullet, inches away from the top of his head. Giriko cringed and shielded his face. "I'm serious, Giriko," he uttered. "You're the best hit man in this whole goddamn city. You were hired to kill 'er. I'd be a waste if I were to kill you now." He lowered the gun so that it was level with the hit man's forehead. "However, I'm feeling a bit merciful today. If you tell me what I want, then I might let you live, All I want to know is one simple thing: who hired you?"
A pathetically nervous chuckle escaped his throat. "I swear on my life, Eater! I wasn't the one who took the contract. No one hired me!"
"Wrong answer," he informed him coldly, pulling the trigger.
Giriko fell back, clutching his knee where the bullet had skimmed the top of his thigh. Blood splattered the alley floor where he lay in a one-legged fetal position, hugging his injured knee by his kneecap while letting out the occasional strained moans. Soul stepped towards him with his smoking gun without a hint of emotion on his face. Giriko, who was still wincing, opened his eyes just in time to see the white-haired mobster's menacing glower and shadow glowering down on him. "P-Please! I swear on my life!" he begged. "No one hired me! I didn't try to whack her! I swear it for real!""
"Shut up already!" He dug his heel into his curled up stomach, causing another yelp out of him. "I know you were there. Maka told me that you were in her room and you tried to kill her. Don't make me waste me bullets on scum like you," he warned.
Giriko growled at him. "You won't kill me, you're bluffin'!" he managed angrily.
"Test me and we'll find out!" Soul snarled, delivering another harsh kick to his ribcage. Giriko hacked out air and then chocked it back in, trembling on the ground. "Just tell me already for Christ's sake! Capone did, didn't he?"
After Giriko was done with his coughing fit, he shot Soul a hateful gaze and scowled at him, still clutching his leg to his chest. "Whaddif I tell ya?"
"I let you live," he stated plainly. "Or, I can put you out of your misery right now."
"Alright, alright..." he bit his lip. "It wasn't Capone!"
The mob boss perked an eyebrow up. "What do you mean? Capone didn't hire you?"
Giriko smirked. "What? Don't'cha know that Capone ain't your only enemy. You've gotten too cocky, ya little prick!" he spat.
Soul glared at him. "Tell me who he is!" he demanded.
Giriko paused and gazed up at him to study his face. "Heheh! You wouldn't know 'em if ya tried! But that little girlie of yours would know!"
"I know more than ya think, bastard. Now quit stalling or else I'll plug a bullet in that smart ass head of yours," Soul growled, eyes narrowing. "And what do ya mean she knows him?"
"That ain't for me to tell ya. Only she'd know. So the guy who hired me?" He broke for a chuckle. "The guy ain't on your radar. He ain't on anyone's radar. The man's a total mystery."
Soul raised a suspicious eyebrow and lowered his gun slightly. "What are you talking about?"
"When he hired me he kept sayin' her name and kept callin' her his 'old friend' or somethin'. I dunno, I don't know him personally, but he paid me a whole lotta cash. Didn't ask him where he got it." Giriko propped himself up on one elbow leaned against the pavement.
"His name?" Soul reiterated, slightly irritated.
"Tch. He didn't even give me his full name. He only told me his first name and it's - " he froze in mid-sentence. His eyes widened as his gaze focused on something directly behind Soul.
He was confused. "What?"
Giriko started shaking his head furiously. "No, no! Don't kill me, please!" he begged, his words not aimed at Soul but at someone seemingly behind the snowy-haired mobster.
Soul spun around. Behind him, standing right at the entrance to the alleyway was a darkened figure. His face was shielded from view thanks to a shadow casted by his hat. He wore a classy black tuxedo and black pants and obsidian shoes that clicked against pavement. Soul was shocked that he hadn't noticed the man approaching before. He drew a gun from his pocket and Soul countered by holding up is. "Outta the way, Evans," the figure's voice said. He could feel a sense of cockiness in his tone.
A single gunshot fired across the alley, and it wasn't from Soul's pistol. With his smoking pistol in hand, the man fled into another pathway to the left right after firing. Soul glanced down at his body to see if he had been shot but he was not been harmed. The bullet wasn't intended for him. He gave a little chase towards the end of the alleyway, but the man was out of sight, along with the sound of tires screeching off in the distance. He turned around. As he expected, Giriko lay dead and facedown against the pavement with a single gunshot wound to the forehead. Soul grit his teeth. He was just about to uncover the name of their perpetrator, and now he couldn't do that.
He trotted over to the hit man's body and leaned down, placing two fingers on the side of his neck to feel if a pulse was there. Nothing, of course. The man was stiff. With frustration, Soul stood up and composed himself and brushed off some dirt that had collected during his chase with the now-dead Giriko. All this trouble, and still no information or leads. He tucked the gun back in his pocket with a disappointed sigh.
He started back down the alleyway and tucked his head on top his head more securely, and ventured out onto a sidewalk. He didn't care about the body. In Death City, where mafias ran rampant and invisible wars (to the common folk, of course) were waged between them, death was a common visitor. The police'll be baffled in the morning anyways. He began a slow trudge home, feeling defeated. Maka's 'old friend' was now her worst enemy, and he had no idea who it was.
"Miss Albarn, please hold still," the maid woman chided softly as the pigtailed blonde squirmed as she administered a supposed bruise-healing concoction under her neck.
She squirmed in her chair slightly, wincing at the pain, leaning on elbow on the kitchen table. The room they were in was small: a nice sized oven against the wall, a refrigerator oppositely facing it with a small window beckoning them from the back and giving them a nice view of the dark backyard, brown cupboards that lined the wall and were filled with china plates, and a black-and-white tiled floor.
"Ow!" she yelped as Tsubaki gently rubbed the swab against her fresh wound.
The girl with black hair sighed as she attempted again to rub the liquid on the base of her neck, but she was glad that Maka had recovered from her startled state of mind, right after the incident had occurred. As a worker for the Evans mafia for a few years after migrating from her little village in Japan, she had seen her share in violence and attempted assassinations of the crew members. Of course, none were on her since she was merely a lowly maid.
"Sorry, Tsubaki," she said, slightly embarrassed. "It stings a little." Maka leaned down for her more on the wooden chair, while Tsubaki stooped with one leg on the floor to get a better glance at the bruising.
"Maybe this'll help?" Kid asked, offering her a bottle of wine from a glassy green bottle. He stood behind her near the kitchen doorway, leaned up against the frame and dressed in his suit.
Maka scowled at the alcohol. "I'm 17, I don't drink."
Kid shrugged and downed a swig of red liquid. "So am I." He sighed. "Suit yourself. But it'll make you feel less pain."
The young blond sighed. "Ow! What's in that thing anyways?"
Tsubaki shrugged. "I have no idea. Mr. Evans says that its his own special remedy passed down from his family. It's supposed to heal you really fast."
Maka frowned. "I dunno about that..."
The black-haired boy chuckled. "You seem pretty nonchalant after you've just taken a bullet to the side and survived an assassination attempt in one day," Kid said, quirking an eyebrow at her.
"What? How do you want me to act?" she asked, shooting him an odd gaze.
"Wouldn't you be more shocked that people are trying to kill you?" Kid inquired.
Her frown deepened. "I knew it was gonna happen sometime. I'm always out on the street, and I know that there's danger. I've had some close encounters with enough mobsters to know what they can do."
"That's impressive," Kid said. The door swung open abruptly, causing her to jump. Soul trudged through the doorframe with slumped shoulders, his black and red coat taken off and slung over his hunching shoulders, revealing a white dress shirt underneath. His maroon scowl was droopier than usual. "Did you get him, boss?" Kid asked.
Maka eyed him carefully. He didn't meet her eyes. "I found him. It was Giriko, that bastard," he drawled and sloppily pulled out a chair from the table and plopped down on it dejectedly with his elbows propped up on the table.
"Who's that?" she asked, slightly timidly.
"A local hit man for hire," he answered with the tops of his knuckles digging into the bottom of his chin. "Giriko. Also one of the best ones out there. I've hired him quite a few times in the past."
"Did you find out who hired him?" asked Kid.
"I was about to, until Maka's 'old friend' shot him in the head," he said bitterly. "And I know that his services ain't cheap."
Maka cocked her head. "'Old friend?'"
"Before he croaked, Giriko said that you already know who's trying to kill you," he answered. "Apparently, only you would know him. Said he's 'mysterious,' and, according to him, he's off anyone's radar. Only you know his identity. Plus he's probably a rich fella if he can afford Giriko's skills."
Maka seemed just as confused as Soul was. "What do you mean? I wouldn't know who'd wanna kill me. If anything, they'd be after Papa."
"Did you even see the guy's face?" Tsubaki chimed in suddenly.
Soul shook his head. "The guy came up from behind me and shot him while I was caught off guard, and then ran. Couldn't even recognize his voice." The mobster slumped down on his chair and rested his chin on the tabletop.
"If he's not really recognizable, then maybe he's a wise guy," Kid suggested. "Someone who's not exactly in the mafia but works closely besides them in business."
"If he was then what kinda beef would he have with Maka?" Soul mumbled.
"Perhaps he'd have some beef with Spirit and is taking it out on his daughter? That includes the fact that Capone's after her as well," Kid added in, to Maka's dismay.
"Papa wouldn't do anything to upset the mobsters. He knows what kind of consequences they'd have," Maka said defensively.
"But what if he did without knowing?" the black-haired boy pressed on. "You never know if you have until you get whacked. It sounds like you have a lot of enemies to deal with as of now, Maka."
Maka frowned and groaned. "Soul, what are the odds of my survival if what Kid is saying is really true?"
Soul chuckled. "Even with me on your side? Not much," he said flatly. "But at least I know one guy who's after you. The other, not so much. And if you can't figure it out who it is, then you might as well be dead."
She scowled at him. "I thought it was your job not to let anything like that happen!"
"I'm a mob boss, sweetheart, not a miracle worker," he deadpanned. "But there is one way we can figure it out."
Kid'a head perked up at the certain tone in his voice. "I think I know what you mean."
Soul nodded. "We needa go undercover."
Maka shot him an incredulous look. "You mean infiltrate the Capone mafia? How are you gonna pull that off without dying?"
"Nope. Not us," he answered. "I'm gonna give a friend of mine a call."
The brunette with long hair sat in her office with the door closed, two chairs positioned in front of her broad polished desk. On her desk were scattered pages of case files, sprawled out in random order. A lit lamp was positioned on one of the corners, illuminating the whole room. Instead of studying the case files like the Director had told her to do, she was leaned back on a tiled chair, booted feet propped up on the edge of her desk with a cigarette hanging crookedly from the side of her mouth. She wore slightly ripped navy blue jeans and heeled black boots cropped up almost to her kneecaps, and a grey tank top underneath a checkered flannel long-sleeved jacket. And, to finish it off, a blue cowboy hat fitting atop her head with its rim tilted over her eyes.
The black-polished pay phone from across her room woke her with a shrill and startling ring. She jolted upright, almost knocking her chair backwards along with herself. Her light blue eyes aimed at the vibrating wall phone with annoyance as she set her unlit cigarette on the ashtray and strode over to the phone. "Callin' at four in the morning?" she muttered to herself grumpily. She unhitched the phone and answered it. "Thompson's office, whaddya want?" she spat groggily.
"Liz, that you?" a baritone rumbled from the other line.
She recognize the voice with immediate satisfaction. "Eater, long time no see," she smirked. "How is it there?"
"It's fine. But I didn't call to small talk with you," he answered. "How's the cop work over there?"
"Ah, y'know, not so busy. Stuck with all these murder cases but no names to pin 'em on. What's the matter? Why the hell are you callin' so early in the morning?" she asked.
She could hear him grunt with frustration. "I'll brief you on everything when you get here. The truth is, we've got a little problem.
"Then I'm your girl. Who is it? How should I take care of it for you?"
"It's about Capone."
"What about?"
"We've got someone under our wings for a while, someone who's on Capone's hit list. We've also got a missing person report from 'er. We need you and your detective work. Get over here as soon as you're outta the office and head down to Kid's house," Soul said.
"Gotcha. I'll be right there as soon as my boss is gone. Probably in the afternoon. Do ya need Patty too?"
"The more the merrier."
"Alrighty then."
She hung up with a slight smirk on her face.
On the other side, Maka and Kid gathered around the house phone located in the living room and situated next to a large and plush red couch. "Who's that?" Out of her own curiosity, Maka spoke up.
"Our old friend, Liz Thompson. A made man - or, woman - in the Evans mafia. She's also a detective but she's a loyal member who's also working as an undercover cop, almost like a double agent. She's proved herself many times to us and she spills valuable information from the cops. She's the reason why we always find ways to get past them," Soul answered confidently. "And..." he turned to Kid, who was wearing a slightly irritated expression on his face. "She's an old flame of Kid's."
"She was not my old love. She was just an acquaintance, nothing more," he answered curtly.
"'Acquaintance' my ass," Soul chuckled. "I call BlackStar my 'acquaintance' but you don't see me fucking him every night."
Maka perked an eyebrow at the black-haired boy.
"I did not!" the boy insisted angrily, donning on a small blush on each cheek. "I found her and her sister on the streets one night, looking tough! I thought they'd make a great addition to the mob, so I invited them inside and that's how they joined!"
"Ah, so it was a threesome instead," Soul continued to tease. Maka snorted out a laugh and Kid's blush reddened.
"Christ, Evans, I swear - "
The door swung open abruptly, and Tsubaki appeared from the kitchen with a tray of mugs with steam hovering up from each one. "I have brought tea, Mr. Evans," she smiled gently. Kid aided Maka towards the couch because she was partially unable to walk because of her bullet wound, and Soul settled across the small coffee table wedged in between the couch and him.
Kid sighed and leaned back into the couch with relief, the red dispersing from his face as Maka gratefully accepted her cup. "Aren't you worried that Liz might spill mafia information to the cops?" she asked as she settled into the indented cushion of the faded maroon couch. Soul plopped himself on the floor, cross-legged on the small carpet below the small coffee table.
After taking a light sip, Soul shook his head. "The only reason why she and her sis joined the force is because we convinced her to. That way we'd have two pairs of eyes to see what the cops are doin' behind our backs. Cops wire the places that we go to all the time."
"Like my pub. Even though I own it I'm aware that the cops are present all the time. None of them are in uniform, of course," Kid said. "They wanna listen in on our conversations so they'd know what we're doing at all times, and if we wanted to whack someone they'd know who and when it'll be."
"Sometimes the cops play dirty," Soul dryly pointed out. "They're always gonna find some ways to infiltrate us, but we know better than that."
"What about Papa? Do you think the cops would've gotten him?" Maka asked with a frown.
He shook his head. "Cops also play nice. They'd've probably told you that your father's in custody," Kid explained into his mug after taking a long sip. "And since we already know that Capone and some other guy knows who you are, you can easily guess that the people who took your father have something to do with the mafia."
"So what about Liz? What do they do?" she asked, allowing her curiosity to best her.
"They were both street rats, as Kid pointed out earlier," Kid said. "Wanted for petty thief and robbery by the cops. We took 'em in, did a little convincing to the police force, and here they are. They work for us as one of our soldiers. They're masters at handling guns..."
Soul set his mug down slowly and observed the evanescent steam rise from the top of the cup with dreary garnet eyes. He stood up slowly and Tusbaki offered to courteously take his cup away. Maka and Kid started conversing to each other as Kid went on to explain about how Liz and Patty joined. While they were busy talking to each other, Soul lost attention to their words and instead took the time to study the baseline of her neck as her head was turned towards Kid. The visible handprints of black and blue were still present and defined on her neck since it had only been 5 hours since he left the house. She had looked so shaken when he first got back, but now the traces of fear in her eyes were no longer there. He'd seen people who experienced near-death situations before, and it shook them to their core, changing the look in their eyes for the rest of their lives. But, the rules didn't seem to apply to her. She made an oddly fast recovery for someone who had never been a part of a mob before and never experienced the violence that ensued. She let out a small and audibly weary laugh at one of Kid's witty statements.
He suddenly felt a wave of fatigue wash over him. He stood up slowly after realizing that he hadn't slept for 18 hours straight. He had stayed up after finding Maka, while the doctor was patching her up, and as he went down to La Cabana to meet up with BlackStar, and even when he chased Giriko through the alleyway. "Tsubaki and Kid, make sure that the guards stay armed and posted outside the house," he ordered.
"What's wrong, sir?" he asked.
He slung his limp black jacket over his shoulder and headed towards the doorframe. "I'm exhausted," he drawled as he sulked off. Before he exited the living room completely, he glanced back at Maka. "Aren't you tired too?" he asked her.
Maka paused for a moment to register his question. "I actually am," she said.
He offered her a slight grin. "C'mere. Let's get you to bed."
Kid supported under her arms as she rose from the couch and she slowly made her way towards Soul, switching off at the doorway. Soul gently placed a hand on her waist while she hung her arm around the back of his neck. He helped guide her towards the bedroom as her feet shuffled against the wooden floorboard. Admittedly, Maka felt exposed being so close to the crime-boss. She thought a hardened criminal like him would hardly care about someone with such insignificance as she did. Instead of treating her like she didn't matter it seemed that he had been treating her like she was a priority. While they made their way down the first floor hallway and turned the corridor, she tilted her head so that she could catch a glimpse of his eyes. Two darkened rubies were staring distantly down the darkened hallway. She couldn't tell if his eyes were fatigued or regretful.
After they made it into the doorframe, Soul mumbled, "Sorry..."
"Huh?" she asked, acknowledging him.
"I shoulda been here when you were attacked. He would've never got to you if I were sitting here," he muttered.
"You would've stayed here all night with me?" she asked hesitantly.
"Well, I had nothing else to do anyways," he chuckled softly. "Since Kid's always doing the paperwork and stuff."
"What's Kid to you?" she asked.
"Whaddya mean?"
"Like, in the mafia." Soul sat her down at the edge of the bed.
"Kid's a special guy. He's higher than everyone else in this mafia, next to me. Ever heard of a consigliere?"
Her head perked up. "An advisor to the boss," she answered, proud of her understanding.
"Yup. And he's one of my closest and most trusted friends," he said with a faint smile. Soul settled in the chair had sat in before, a decent distance from her bed and facing the window. "Y'know, I've never seen a girl like you take a bullet and survive being almost strangled to death and still be able to smile in only a few hours."
Maka chuckled. "Kid told me the same thing. But truthfully, I've had my share of close calls with the mafia before."
Soul raised a brow. "And they haven't tried to kill you since?" he asked skeptically.
"I guess I've been lucky?" she answered. "Or they found that I wasn't much of a threat anyways."
Soul chuckled. "You're strong. You'd make a good crew member."
She shook her head. "There's no way I'd let myself stoop into crime."
"That's too bad. But I don't think it's too late to convince you otherwise," he drawled.
"Don't get your hopes up for nothing," she deadpanned flatly. "You'll keep your promise to me anyways, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, it's a work in progress" he dismissed. "Where's that pistol I got you anyways?"
Maka's eyes lit up and she immediately reached under her pillow and rummaged for her gun. "It's here, right under the pillow where I left it."
"I'm gonna need to borrow it for the night," he said, taking it from her and examining the barrel.
"Why? Are you going out again?"
"Pfft. Weren't you listening?" He took his jacket and threw it at the desk, and tipped his hat on his head. "I ain't going anywhere." He leaned back against the backrest of his chair slowly with his arms crossed over his chest.
Her eyes widened. "Wait, so you're gonna sit here and watch me sleep all night?"
"Well, unless you want another guy to come in here and spend the night with you and try to kill you again, then yes."
She held down a visible blush. "But...!" She found that she had no argument or anything to counter him, considering that she had almost been killed without his presence. She could try and convince him to let Kid watch her, or even Tsubaki, but she couldn't help but feel that her chances of survival were with the white-haired mobster.
"What? Ain't like there's much to look at anyways," he snorted motioning to her chest.
Maka shot him a look, and then submitted to his will. "Fine. Just...don't stare at me, okay? And don't you dare try to share the bed," she warned.
He smirked. "Why in the hell would I ever do that? Just go to sleep already."
With that, she turned over on her side in a huff and flung the covers over her shoulders, and settled her head on her pillow. She curled up her knees to her chest, feeling slightly more protected from his gaze from under the white sheets and snuggled in further. She could hear chuckle a bit, and then go silent as he reached for the lamp and shut it off. Once there was darkness all around the room with the exception of the dull moonlight filtering hesitantly through the gossamer curtains from the window, she finally closed her eyes. Afterward, she didn't hear Soul at all, not even his breathing. She could feel his presence in the room, and even perhaps his steady and watchful gaze on her body despite her warning him not to stare.
She dared not move, hoping to trick Soul that she was sleeping. Even though she distrusted him and his motive behind helping her, she couldn't help but think that he showed her no hostility. And, as much as she wanted to believe that he was nothing but a crime mutt on the streets, she couldn't help but feel a tad bit safer with him watching over her. After all, he was Death City's notorious Soul Eater Evans, head mobster of the infamous Evans mafia. If there were anything he'd know best, it was how to survive in this dark city. With that thought in mind, she allowed herself to slip into the peacefulness of a good night's rest.
She awoke to extremely loud and obnoxious snoring, right in her ear. Maka shot up in bed and threw the covers off her, only to have her eyes assaulted by sunlight infiltrating through the window and bouncing brightly off the polished wooden floor. She turned away and faced the opposite side of the room, where the sunlight barely reached. Soul's face was on the edge of the bed with his head buried in the sheets with his muffled snoring while he was still sitting in the chair. She could see a trail of drool seeping from the side of his mouth and gave a disgusted look. His chair was closer to the bed then she remembered it was before. The pistol was still resting idly on his lap.
Maka let out a stifled giggle at his awkward position. She never expected him to actually stay the whole duration of the night. She glanced at the analogue clock hung on the wall. It was already 12 in the afternoon. Had they been that exhausted? She could see that Tsubaki had left a small plate with dainty white bread sandwiches with some kind of jelly in them and a tray with two cups of tea on the nightstand. She reached over and felt the cup. The porcelain was lukewarm, telling her that the maid had dropped it off possibly an hour or two ago. Maka scooted over closer to the nightstand where Soul was snoring away and gently lifted up one of the tea cups, taking a sip and watched the sleeping mobster. She tapped his shoulder to wake him.
Soul didn't stir, only continuing to snore. "Hey Soul," she whispered. "Wake up."
He muttered something in his slumber and then settled down again. She sighed and set her cup down. "C'mon, Soul," she said. She pat his head. Despite his hair being visibly spiky, it was surprisingly soft under her fingers. "Don't you need to get up now?"
Soul muttered something frustrated into the bedsheets. She shook his shoulders vigorously. "Huh?!" He jolted into an upright position which startled her.
"It's time to get up. Remember? Liz said she'd be around at this time."
Soul focused in his droopy red eyes at her, wiping away the drool from his mouth. "What time is it?" he asked slowly.
"It's already 12 in the afternoon."
Soul cracked his neck from side to side and let out a long yawn while he stretched his arms out. "Is it now?" he muttered to himself. "Did anything happen while I was out?"
"Well, not really. Nothing happened thankfully," she said with a soft smile.
He nodded quickly. "Good. How do you feel?"
"I feel fine. Still a little achy but I'm fine."
"Alright then." Soul stood up and smoothed down his suit. "I need to take care of some business first. You should rest."
"Alright," she said.
Soul hurried from the room and into his own. He took a quick shower and changed into his casual clothes - a t-shirt and jeans - in a matter of 20 minutes, and then ran into the living room. Tsubaki was sitting in her maid's outfit at the table, reading the newspaper. "Did Liz come yet?" he asked, feeling a bit rushed.
"She came about an hour ago. I told her you were sleeping, so she told me that she'd be waiting near Kid's bar," Tsubaki answered, eyes still concentrated on the ink words in front of her.
"Shit, she's gonna kill me for being so late," he muttered.
"I'm sure Liz would understand," she said helpfully.
"Alright. Thanks. If Maka needs anything, take care of her, okay?" he said as he ventured towards the doorway.
"Understood, Mr. Evans."
The brunette and her younger, blonder sister waited impatiently in front of a small building with salon doors. Liz sighed with frustration as her younger sister distantly hummed a cheery tune and smiled to herself. Liz's eyebrow began to twitch after listening to her sister for an hour. "Patty, you've been singing the same goddamn song for an hour now! Will you stop?" she growled.
Patty perked up her head at her sister. "But sis, I'm bored!" she whined childishly.
"So am I. Eater said he'll be here a while ago. He'd better be dead," she muttered.
"Aw, don't say that. He probably got hung up on something or something. Soul's usually never late anyways."
Liz sighed once more. "I hope nothin' bad happened to him." Liz swung her head around and saw the mob boss slumping over with his kneecaps, panting heavily.
"Don't worry about ol' Soul Eater," Soul smirked, out of breath. He had just ran around the corner just in time to hear her.
Liz quirked an eyebrow at him. "Where the hell were you? We've been waitin' out here for a while now! It ain't like you to be late," she said.
"Sorry. I over slept," he admitted.
"With who?" she leaned over suspiciously.
"I didn't sleep with nobody!" he shot back defensively. Liz chuckled.
"Don't get too soft on us, Eater," she warned. "What did you wanna talk about anyways?"
Soul stood closer to the sisters. "I think you know before that we've got a minor problem."
"Is it Capone again?"
"Well, it's got somethin' do to with him. Do you remember the name 'Albarn?" Y'know, one of our first wise guys."
"Oh. That red-haired guy. Yeah, what about him?" she asked.
"Well, we have his daughter in our protection after Capone tried to kill her. Says he's gone missing and word from Star says that Capone has somethin' to do with it. Also, some guy's after her too. Dunno know who he is, but he was apparently rich enough to hire Giriko."
"His daughter?" she asked. "Ah, so that's who you were sleeping with."
Soul's eyes narrowed at her. "Don't push me," he said in a low, warning voice.
Liz raised her hands in submission. "Sorry, sorry. What were you gonna go about anyways?"
"As I was saying," he said, clearing his throat. "We wanna find out about her father."
"You think Albarn's dead or something?"
"I dunno. BlackStar says Capone knows where he is but he didn't say if he was alive or not," Soul said grimly.
"Hmph. Well, I can tell you that the police haven't noticed him going missing so we're in the dark to. But, let's say he'd dead or somethin'. What'll you do then?"
"Dunno," he shrugged. "But if there's one thing I know it's that Capone's got somethin' big planned. He's been kinda secretive lately. We needa find the father and get to Capone too. That's why I've called you here in the first place."
"Ooh! A mission?" Patty chimed in excitedly.
"Yup," Soul answered with a smirk.
"Lemme guess. You want us to take care of Capone?" Liz asked.
"Nope. We can't kill him yet until he tells us were Albarn is. We can't ask him either. So, I'm gonna need you two to go undercover for a few days."
"In the Capone mafia? As much fun as it sounds, how the hell are we gonna do that without gettin' killed?" the older sister said.
"You're not actually gonna get into the mafia itself. You're gonna be something else instead. Listen, we needa find out about what Capone's planning and where her father is. So I've got a plan."
"Sounds fun!" Patty chirped.
Liz smirked. "Care to enlighten us?" Patty leaned in with interest.
"Alright, so here's how it's gonna go..."
A/N: Well, I haven't updated this story in a whole and that's because I'm really really busy with school and stuff. Junior year's pretty hard already. Thanks for being so patient with me!
~Amber
