Chapter 4

Soul had seen a lot of strange things since moving into Death City. Monsters with blades as fingers, guys with screws through their head, blood that could turn into a weapon and was the color of obsidian, the sky turning a hellish red color, etc. As a death scythe living in the ever not-so-famous Death City, home of Shinigami-sama himself, these things were pretty normal. Nothing surprised him anymore. In fact, the real surprise would be if Soul didn't see these things on a daily basis.

But nothing he's seen, nothing that Soul had experienced could have prepared him for the display he got so early in the morning. If he didn't know better and wasn't so sure he had gotten enough sleep the previous night, Soul would've said he was dreaming. Because never did the albino-haired death scythe believe that he'd ever see his meister running around in a loose t-shirt, lack of pants and bed head, racing to get ready for school.

"Idiot! Why didn't you wake me up?" she shouted at Soul from the kitchen. Soul watched from the doorway as she shoved two pieces of bread into the toaster.

"You would've hit me."

Maka's eyebrow twitched and she pushed past him roughly, heading to her room. "Yeah? Well I'm about to drop-kick you right now!" she threatened. "I mean really, Soul! You know how important my perfect record is to me!"

"And this is my problem. . .how?" Soul leaned against the kitchen counter and watched the toaster, waiting for his half-assed breakfast.

Maka grunted loudly enough to be heard from inside her closet to where Soul was standing. Soul quirked an eyebrow, impressed. She only got this loud when she was superiorly pissed. Whenever she was in this mood, it was best to leave her alone and let her anger dwindle down to a safe point to actually communicate with her without irritating her any farther. Of course, for Soul, it was only in his nature to add fuel to the fire. And he had the best, overly-angry meister to practice this on. Who would miss such a golden opportunity?

A sane person. That's who.

A hardbound book zoomed through Maka's doorway magically and supposedly by itself. Soul knew better, but it was still amazing how Maka had gotten so good at her aim that she could now throw from around corners. If he hadn't had ducked at the right time, the book would have surely been embedded into his face. Instead, it crashed into the toaster behind him, knocking it to its side just as the toast was done, which popped out into the dirty dishwater in the sink.

"Breakfast is ruined," he called out.

Maka ran out of her room in her usual plaid skirt and combat boots but instead of her blouse and sweater vest, she wore a graphic tee. Her messenger bag was slung over her shoulder and her hair has been brushed and clipped back with two simple red barrettes haphazardly. She surged forward and grabbed for her weapon's wrist. "No time to worry about that! We have ten minutes before class starts!"

Soul found himself being dragged out of the apartment and down the steps in Maka's frantic rush to get to school on time. He rolled his eyes at her want and need to reach the academy on time, deciding it was pointless to get so worked up over something that didn't really matter.

"Maka, you do realize that even if we're a few minutes late, we're not going to explode or anything, right? Even with Stein as a teacher." He twisted her wrist in attempt to become unlatched from his partner, but she held strong and firm.

Maka grunted in response and whipped him around. She practically shoved him into his motorcycle and commanded him to get on and start it. Soul rolled his eyes again, muttering a quick statement on how uncool she was being, before digging his hand into his jean pocket to retrieve his bike's key. When he came up empty, he shoved his hand into his other pocket and checked around. Nothing. To be thorough, he patted his back pockets only for them to end up empty as well.

An explosive feeling resounded in his chest as he chuckled lowly and flashed a sharp-toothed grin. He shrugged and shoved his hands into his leather jacket's pockets. Maka's expression was growing more and more annoyed each passing second, which amused Soul immensely. "I must've left my keys upstairs."

Maka screeched at him and grabbed his upper arm. "I guess we're walking then."

"Oh come on, Maka!"

"Shut it! You're the one who forgot the keys!"

"So what? I can easily go back upstairs and get them!"

"No time!"

Soul yanked his arm from Maka's grasp and slowed down to a leisurely pace. "What? And walking about three miles will take up less time?"

Maka only turned to send him a hateful glare before she sped up into a jog, hoping that she could get to class on time like always. She had a record to maintain after all

Despite Soul's whining and griping about running a whole three miles to school, the two actually made it to class just as the bell rang. Maka smiled in triumph, satisfied that her perfect record was still intact and flawless. But when she looked up to their usual seats, what she saw made her wish that she had just stayed home, even at the cost of ruining her track record. Her stomach plummeted down to her feet while her heart shot up into her head, a painful pounding attacking it immediately. Dizziness messed with her vision as she continued to stare up into the crowd of students, looking at one face in particular.

What in all that was Shinigami was Grayson doing here?

"Soul, Maka. If you don't mind, would you kindly take your seats so that I can start my lesson?" asked Stein. He stared down at them through the glare of his glasses, hiding his creepy and analyzing eyes. Soul involuntarily shivered and looked down at his meister, who stood stock-still beside him. Her eyes had widened to a considerable size and her mouth was all but hanging open. He gently wrapped a rough hand around her upper arm and tugged her forward.

"C'mon, Maka," he whispered. "Before he decides to cut us open as part of today's lesson."

Maka blinked out of her daze and looked at Soul as if seeing him for the first time that day. Her eyes still contained some of that off-ness and he wouldn't be surprised if she was only half-there and hardly paying attention to their conversation.

Nervously and awkwardly, Maka removed her arm from Soul's hand and backed up a step. "Actually, I'm going to the bathroom real quick. Make sure to catch me up on anything I miss." She waved to him and then excused herself from class. The door swung shut painfully slow behind her, not daring to make a sound in the now quiet atmosphere.

What was that all about? Why did she get all nervous so suddenly? Just a moment ago, she had been feeling cocky and silently rubbing it in Soul's face that walking (ahem, running) three miles in less than ten minutes was possible. Which, in his opinion wasn't fair in the slightest considering she was a meister and had to run all of the time, unlike the weapon's. Wasn't fair at all.

Soul trudged up the steps and plopped down on the bench in front of his desk. All week-end, Maka had seemed in such an off-mood and always had this mysterious aura surrounding her. She was hiding something within that thick aura, one that he could see through for once. And Maka was a pretty open book. Soul knew everything there was to know about his partner. He had known her for years. He could gladly say that he knew his meister best out of everyone, even her own blood kin.

At least, until lately. Because now. . .he just couldn't be sure. She seemed to be hiding things and distancing herself ever so subtle-ly. And it was killing him, to think that maybe Maka was starting to mistrust him. It made him wonder if he had done anything wrong. If he had said anything to hurt her.

"Look, dumbass. There's no proof that the damned things exist so quit it; you're getting on my nerves. Angels are stupid little creatures manifested by idiotic parents to tell their children as bedtime stories to get them to shut the fuck up and get to sleep. God, Maka! I didn't know you were that stupid! I mean, angels? Give me a fucking break!"

Oh no. She hadn't taken that so close to the heart, had she? Maka tended to do that. Even if she wasn't directly involved, she'd hold the pain so close to her as if it were centered around her or as if she were the cause. She had probably taken this more personally than Soul had intended. Didn't she just know that he was pissed off? That he didn't really mean any of that. It was all just word vomit that spewed in result of a rotten mood and bad-tasting conversation. He didn't mean to hurt her. She knew that, right? She had to. For someone so smart. . .

Stein began his lesson and was currently writing something on the board in chalk, the squeaking of the chalk running down and across the board causing all of the students to wince. Except for Soul. HE was buried too deep within his thoughts to really care at the moment, Why did Maka have to act to tough and careless when she knew that she was hurting on the inside.

"Dammit, Maka," Soul muttered to himself. "Why in the hell are you so stupid?"

The sound of something clashing into the metal of a locker reverberated down the Shibusen hallways. No one was around to hear it, though, so no one could've have witnessed it when Maka Albarn slid down the wall and did her best to not hyperventilate. She brought her knees to her chest and ran her bare hands through her loose hair. Why did they wish to make her life so difficult when it was just starting to really settle down for once? They hadn't had many missions lately, summer vacation was approaching at a rapid speed, and Soul was already a deathscythe.

So why now? Why her? Why them?

Times like these were when Maka wished that she was never an angel. She just wanted to tear out her wings and forget everything. Leave everything be and just lead a more normal and unstressful life. Which was still pretty impossible what with fighting kishin eggs and witches to protect innocent souls, but it sure as hell would've been less stressful if she decided to rid herself of these extra appendages.

But Maka knew as well as every other angel: It wasn't the wings that made the angel, but the soul. Her damn Grigori soul. Could a soul change forms if you willed it to hard enough? Could Stein take a look inside her and change her soul's functioning? Or better yet, couldn't everything just go back to how it was before the days her wings were revealed? The times when Maka and her parents were happy and together.

Before the fighting.

Before the hateful words.

Before the painful departures.

Before the trust that had been broken and ripped apart like tissue paper.

And then to add on to all of that, Maka's parents started to grow apart as well. And then before she could blink, Maka stood at the train station as her mother kissed her good bye. Promises were made on her part to behave and do well in school. Her mother promised to send plenty of souvenirs and letters to keep her daughter in the loop.

Maka sighed and threw her head back against the locker. Being an angel was a lot more than just floating in beams of golden light and being saintly. In fact, angels were saintly at all. Nor could they ever find beams of light to float under (Maka chuckled half-heartedly at her own joke). No, being an angel meant kicking serious ass when need be it and then making sure that everything stayed in the order that was intended for this world.

And the blonde scythe meister was getting sick of it. She was becoming exhausted and overwhelmed. Being a Shibusen student and an angel were just too much on one girl's shoulders.

A door closed loudly in the distance, shocking the silence that filled the empty hallways. A rhythmic arrangement of footsteps walked down the hallway, coming towards her. Maka curled up tighter into a ball of pity and misery, hoping to be ignored and passed off as someone who was just skipping class.

And just her luck, the figure stopped right in front of her. Reluctantly, Maka looked up to see Grayson looking down at her, smiling. His hands were shoved deeply into the recesses of his pants pockets and he flipped his side bangs out of his dark eyes that pierced into her mirthly.

"So. . .Miss Albarn. I am told by our professor that you are to show me around the school. Where shall we begin?"

Maka stood up and leaned up until they were a breath's away from each other , eyes narrowed in dangerous slits that you could hardly see past her eyelids. "How about the front door because that's where you'll be leaving this place."

Grayson sighed and backed up. "Really, Maka. I'm just trying to familiarize myself with the school. Is it so wrong to want to know about my surroundings?"

"Yes!" Maka shouted, hardly caring if any teachers heard and came out to investigate. Maybe they would see past Grayson's innocent act and see him for what he truly was: a spy of some sort. "Because that means you plan on staying! And I will not allow that!"

"Look. I'm only here because I was ordered to watch after you. Boss wants to make sure you don't run off in the middle of the night so that we'll have to track you down."

Maka rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "Yeah, whatever. Do whatever your precious boss wants." She stepped closer again and poked him in his chest. "But I swear, if you touch Soul or harm him in any size, shape, or form, I will skin you alive, gouge out your eyes and rip your tongue out before snapping your lower jaw off and setting you on fire. Are. We. Clear?"

Grayson blinked at the extreme death threat, actually going as far as to let his jaw drop in disbelief. Recollecting himself quickly as to not let Maka know how much she had gotten to him, he put on a devilish smile and licked his bottom lip. "Kinky."

"Oh you sick bastard!"

Author's Comments:

Death threat was so fun to write. :) And Grayson's reaction was even better. And Maka's was just the icing on the cake.

Okay. I finally got asked this question (I can't remember who asked it so if you could would you please step up?). What does the word 'protin' mean? Excellent question! You see, protin is not actually a word. It will not be in any dictionary you find. Because it is a word I made up. Protin is actually a combination of two words: "protected interest". Which basically means the object/person that's being watched/bodyguarded/protected. Angel slang.

Yay! More depth to Grayson and Maka's relationship! For those of you who spotted it, I give you a pat on the back. And a virtual cookie. And no, it is not their conversation. The hint is somewhere in Maka's self-wallowing session in the hallway.

Loose t-shirt and underwear is now officially Maka's pj's. Because it's comfortable. *saying from experience*

Also, sorry this took awhile to get out. I re-wrote this chapter about 4 times. At first, there was this beginning scene between Grayson and his boss (whose name shall remain unmentioned for now but you are free to guess. And yes, it is a real fallen angel's name. Google all of them and click on the first link. That's where I found it). And then there was this interaction between Grayson and Stanton, which I now deem unimportant. And then I had to re-write the scene where Maka and Soul were rushing out of the house. And now I end up with this because it's 2 in the morning and I'm tired and don't feel like thinking anymore. -.-

Lastly, I was originally planning on this being a really long series so I could fully explain everything and give most of the characters a time to shine, but that's likely to be twenty or so chapters. ._. I'm trying to keep this about twenty or less, a little more if absolutely necessary. So a lot of things are going to be left open-ended and kinda empty.

Now don't get pissed or upset. I have good reason behind this. I'm planning on doing a sequel for this (haha, only the 4th chapter and I'm already planning a sequel) so I think that any unanswered questions will probably be left there. And some of you may not be happy about a sequel (I know some people aren't really into them), but if I didn't have a sequel planned, Maka was going to die at the end. Okay? So the sequel saved her. Be happy.

Spoiler for sequel (in one word): Demons. Nuff said.

Until next time~!