.seven.

All was dark, dark and red. It pressed in on him, unrelenting. He curled in upon himself, arms wrapped around his stomach, folded legs crunched against his torso, head tucked down against his knees. And still that red darkness pressed and pushed and crushed, crushed him. He needed to scream, needed to shout, needed to thrash, but he couldn't breathe, move, think. Dark red panic welled up inside him, dark red fear that was almost black, black as night, black as blood. Pressure built in his throat and head and it felt like he was going to burst but there was no room, no room, because that red darkness was still pressing, pressing, pressing crushing pushing squeezing chokingshrinkingtrapping—

Soul shot up in bed, gasping for air. His hand clutched at the amulet dangling around his neck, fingers clawing into his shirt, while his heart attempted to hammer its way out of his chest. Sweat-soaked locks of hair were plastered against his face, and tremors ran down his spine. He noticed that his sheets were wrapped tightly around him, and he tore them away violently, repulsed by their constriction.

It was unbearably, stiflingly hot in his bedroom. The walls pressed in around him. The darkness clung to him, heavy, sticky, suffocating. Soul's chest heaved as he struggled unsuccessfully to draw oxygen into his starving lungs. He rolled out of bed, thudding heavily onto the floor. He reached out blindly. His fingers bumped into and latched onto his wheelchair, and he dragged himself up into the seat. Fighting against his hyperventilating panic, Soul raced through the apartment, into the hallway outside, and out of the building.

The coolness of the night washed over him, brushing away the viscid tendrils of the nightmare's darkness that clung to him. Gulping mouthfuls of blessed air, Soul rolled over to a lonely streetlamp that shed its yellow-orange light over the deserted street. A breeze caressed his sweat-coated skin, and he shivered. Eyes clamped shut, Soul tossed his head back and tried to shake off the stubbornly lingering sensation of drowning in claustrophobia.

Her footsteps were soft, but Soul was so attuned to her that he immediately sensed her approach. His eyes slowly opened, and he glanced at her. She wore her trench coat and unbuckled combat boots over her pajamas, and the breeze toyed with the ends of her loose hair. "Hey," Soul said wearily.

"Hey." Maka pulled her coat more tightly around herself. "Nightmares again?"

Soul's eyes drifted shut once more. He nodded. "I guess that was one good thing about being stuck as a weapon," he commented dully. "No dreams."

"It's the same one?" Maka asked quietly.

"Yeah," sighed Soul. "Same as ever." He raked his fingers through his hair. "Sorry for waking you."

"You didn't," Maka told him. "I was up studying."

Soul frowned. "You should have gone to bed. You need sleep."

His partner scowled. "I have to do better than that scumbag Ox on the next test. I'm going to tear down his reputation as the top student in the class." Soul chuckled, but another wave of claustrophobia swept through him. A shudder wracked his body, choking off the quiet laughter. He lifted a hand to massage his aching temples with the calloused pads of his fingertips.

Maka watched him struggle to control his breathing, her eyes filled with empathetic pain. Without thought, she moved closer to him. Hesitantly, she slid her hands over his shoulders, wrapping her arms around him from behind. The metal in his collarbone and shoulder pressed into her skin through the fabric of their clothing. She leaned forward to rest her cool cheek against his hot one. Soul exhaled slowly, tension draining out of him. He relaxed back into his chair, settling more comfortably into her embrace. "Thanks," he murmured.

Maka frowned. "Soul…" she began. Her fingers found the thong that held the amulet around Soul's neck and ran along the cord until they reached the pendant. "Soul, you don't have to keep having these nightmares. This isn't just affecting your sleep. I know it bothers you while you're awake, too." Her fingers began to curl around the amulet. "We could end this. Right now."

Soul's hand shot up to trap Maka's fist against his chest. "No, Maka." He pulled away from her and twisted in his wheelchair so that he could fix his scarlet eyes on her green ones. "It's not that bad. I can handle it." He gently disentangled the amulet from her fingers. "Look, it's late. We should both be getting back to bed."

"Soul—"

"Maka." Soul's tone was firm, his gaze unyielding. "It's fine. Don't worry about it so much."

"But—"

"Maka, please. I'm tired, I have a headache, and I just want to go back to sleep. Do we have to argue about this now?"

The meister glared. "You always avoid talking about it."

Soul grinned, but the humor did not reach his eyes. "That's 'cause we're both stubborn, and I don't want to waste my time with an argument that's never gonna get anywhere." He yawned widely. "Seriously though, let's go in."

Seeing that her partner was drooping with exhaustion, Maka relented. "All right."

"Soul, wake up," hissed Maka.

Soul muttered something unintelligible and turned his head away from his partner. A string of drool trailed from the corner of his mouth, hovering dangerously a mere centimeter above his textbook. In the row behind them, Black*Star snored loudly while Tsubaki tried to make herself look smaller, hoping that Sid wouldn't notice her meister slacking off in his Health class.

Maka narrowed her eyes at her weapon's unresponsiveness. "Soullllll…" she rumbled. The Death Scythe ignored her. In a flash, she jabbed her fingers into his side and pinched him viciously. With a muffled yelp, Soul shot up in his chair.

"What the hell, Maka?" he growled.

"Don't sleep during class!"

"I barely got any sleep last night!"

"That's not an excuse for not paying attention!"

"You're heartless."

"You're lazy."

"Yeah, well at least I'm not a flat-chested bookworm."

"Maka Chop!"

"Ow," Soul whined. He grumpily folded his arms on his desk and rested his chin on his wrists. "I don't get why you care about this class. We already know this stuff. I mean, c'mon, basic nutrition and healthy lifestyles for weapons and meisters? And the next unit's on field treatment, and the one after that is for assessing and dealing with injuries during battle. This shit's second nature to us alrea—"

"Soul! Maka! I was never the kind of man who allowed talking during class!" Sid bellowed. Maka started; Soul simply fixed an apathetic gaze on the teacher. "Pop quiz: how many hours of sleep are recommended for the average teenager?"

"Nine and a half," Maka answered promptly.

"And how many did you two get last night?"

"About eight." Maka brushed a pigtail over her shoulder. "Between the two of us," she added in an undertone. Soul smirked.

"Hmph. Pay attention from now on!"

Soul and Maka exchanged snide comments in low voices for the rest of class, and the moment the bell rang, their argument resumed at full intensity. Kid, watching them, rather thought that they were enjoying themselves. He wondered if this was yet another aspect of friendship. He decided that if it was, it was probably something unique to Maka and Soul. The two were still squabbling when the next period started; they did not even notice when Stein walked into the classroom.

The professor watched them bicker for a few moments before concluding that he would have to shut them up himself in order to begin class. His movement was so rapid that it was hardly visible; his shoulder seemed to flicker, and the next instant, a dull thud heralded the appearance of a scalpel, quivering menacingly, buried in the desk behind Soul and Maka. Maka flinched while Soul, who had opened his mouth to deliver a biting remark, jerked back.

"Soul Eater," said Dr. Stein pleasantly. "Please come here."

Soul's eyes widened in panic. Approaching the mad doctor was the absolutely last thing he wanted to do. Stein was notorious for his love of dissecting anything that a blade could cut into, and most of his classes involved chopping various creatures into tiny bits and labeling the pieces. Soul did not want to end up as the next lab rat. However, Stein's glittering eyes told the weapon that, whatever the doctor was planning for him now, much worse things would be in store for the Death Scythe if he didn't obey, so, swallowing his dread, he slid into his wheelchair and rolled forward.

"Thank you," said Stein, wearing the fakest smile Soul had ever seen. "Now turn to face the class." Turning his back on the doctor felt like suicide, but the white-haired weapon slowly did as he was told. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he could sense exactly where the doctor was standing by a distinct sensation of coldness radiating from a place just behind him.

"Today, we are going to try a little experiment," Stein announced. Soul went dead white and made a small choking noise. Stein's lips twitched, barely suppressing a smirk. "Using your skills of observation, tell me everything you can about Soul Eater."

The students of Class Crescent Moon blinked and looked at one another uncertainly. After a long silence, someone spoke. "Well, sir, he's got white hair and red eyes, but he isn't albino. His skin's tan, so he's got melanin, the pigment that albinos lack."

"And what does that mean?" Stein prodded.

"Umm…well…"

Another student piped up. "Since he's not albino, his coloring probably is from his weapon gene. Some weapon families pass along unusual physical traits. That probably explains his jagged teeth, too."

"Good. What else?"

A girl with curly red hair called out, "He's right handed, and his pen is broken. There are ink stains all over his right index and middle fingers." Soul grinned, and several people chuckled. Stein nodded and waited patiently.

"He has a twisted personality, and he tends to be cold and calculating," sneered Ox. Maka stiffened and shot a glare at her rival.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" asked Stein.

"I used Soul Perception," Ox replied smugly.

Stein nodded. "Excellent. Can anyone tell me more about his soul?" Soul shifted uncomfortably as the meisters in the class who had the Soul Perception ability focused on him with new interest.

An African American boy, his hair styled with a combination of dreadlocks and cornrows, observed hesitantly, "It's a really light blue-silver color, and you can kinda see the jagged teeth…and the top spikes a bit, like his hair."

Death the Kid quietly added, "He is loyal and protective. And currently, his predominant emotion is unease. It almost borders on claustrophobia."

Stein turned to Maka. "Do you have anything to add, Maka?"

The meister shrugged. "His soul sounds like a dark piano song and smells like leather and cologne." Ox and Kid sat up straighter and stared at Maka, the prior with something like jealousy in his eyes, the latter with intent curiosity.

The light reflecting off Stein's glasses hid both his eyes and expression. "Very good. Soul Eater, you may return to your desk." As Soul made his way back to Maka's side, the doctor told the class, "There are a number of things that one can ascertain about an opponent using Soul Perception—emotions and personality being some of the most important. It cannot tell you everything though. What cannot be determined using Soul Perception? Maka?"

Maka lowered her hand. "Gender and exact thoughts."

"Correct. Souls are not maps of the physical body. While they may reflect some key traits—like sharp teeth and disheveled hair—they do not tell the observer about gender, physical size, coloring, and the like. Nor do souls tell you what your enemy is thinking. You may be able to sense a soul's fear, but you cannot be certain what it is afraid of or what it plans to do because of that fear.

"The body, mind, and soul are distinct from one another. However, different though they are, they are strongly interconnected. You can gain insights about one aspect of a person by looking into another, and if you remove one of the three from the equation, the whole person ceases to function properly. Keep this in mind when you fight—if you fail to defend yourself from all three angles, you will be defeated.

"Now, back to souls. When we discussed what can and cannot be determined about an opponent using Soul Perception, there was one important topic not discussed. What was it?"

Ox quickly jumped on the question. "Power." He haughtily glanced at Maka, pleased that he had spoken before she had. The blonde meister ignored him, eyes fastened on Dr. Stein.

"Do you care to guess why we saved this subject for last?"

Ox hesitated, uncertain. Maka softly spoke up. "It is possible to gauge a person's power with Soul Perception, but the results are not always reliable."

"Exactly," Stein affirmed, looking at her sharply. "Often, one can estimate the power of a soul simply by its size. However, this method is limited, because after a certain point, most powerful beings learn to concentrate their power within a sphere of a reasonable size, usually only a bit larger than their bodies. Once you start facing these more advanced adversaries, you will need more refined ways of gauging power.

"Some people learn to use their Soul Perception to see the concentration of a soul's power as relative brightness. The most skilled meisters, though, expand their ability to utilize all of their senses—hearing, smell, touch, taste, instinct. The combination allows for a more exact reading of a soul. Maka, it seems, is already able to do this to some extent, at least with her partner. Are you able to read other people similarly?"

"Yes, but not as well, of course."

"Of course," Stein echoed. "Close proximity and frequent contact will sharpen your observations on a soul using the Perception ability, which is why you will always know your partner better than any other." The doctor twisted the screw in his head. "Once again, I stress the importance of taking advantage of every aspect of Soul Perception that you can. Few master using Perception in multiple senses at your age, but now is the time to start making the attempt. Form good habits early.

"Unfortunately, even if you completely master Soul Perception, you will not always be able to rely on it to give you an accurate measure of an opponent's power. Witches have developed a magical technique specifically targeted at fooling Soul Perception. The ability is called Soul Protect. The spell creates a 'barrier' of sorts around the soul, which cancels out the witch's wavelength, making her soul seem no more than that of an ordinary human. The downside of this is a severe limitation on the power that the witch is able to use. Most can cast no more than the simplest of spells without first removing Soul Protect.

"As with all other such techniques, the quality of a Soul Protect depends on the skill and power of the one who uses it. Some witches cannot use the ability at all. Some can only partially disguise their power, while some can hide themselves so effectively that they do not even leave the traces that an ordinary human's soul would. The witch's talent also determines exactly how much of her power remains available to her while she uses Soul Protect without destroying the barrier around her soul."

Stein spent the rest of class calling various weapons to the front of the room and making the other students practice the art of observation, both with Soul Perception and more mundane methods. It was easily one of the most interesting lessons the doctor had ever taught, and to their surprise, the students found themselves using the knowledge they had picked up in his innumerable dissection labs. When the bell rang, signaling the end of the period, they broke out in excited discussion of what they had learned.

"Maka, Death the Kid, Black*Star, you and your weapons need to stay behind for a moment." The six teens glanced at one another and shrugged. They waited for their classmates to finish filing out of the room and for the chattering voices in the hall to fade away before approaching Stein's desk.

The doctor came straight to the point. "Your class schedule has been changed. From now on, the six of you will be participating in the special training regimen that a few of your classmates are already taking." Stein focused on Maka. "You and Soul are far too advanced for most of your classes. Due to your unusual background, there are a few things that you are a bit behind on, but for the most part, your current courses are a waste of your time. You will receive some additional homework to bring you up to speed on those things your education has thus far lacked, but otherwise, I believe you are fully prepared to move on."

Stein's attention turned to Kid. "All of your courses are beneath you. As a reaper, your power far exceeds that of human meisters. The only thing that you lack is experience. The reason we have held you back thus far is simply that previously, we have not been able to fit you into the special program. That has changed now that Maka and Soul have enrolled."

Finally, Stein looked at Black*Star. "You are by no means ready to advance. Academically, you trail behind everyone else in the class. However, in terms of physical strength and skill, you by far exceed nearly all of your classmates. For this reason, we have decided to allow your admission into the special program. Students must join in teams of three meisters and their weapons. Maka and Kid need a third, and so we will make an exception for you, despite your deficiencies."

Sharp eyes behind large glasses focused on Tsubaki. "I'm afraid this means extra responsibility for you. As Black*Star's weapon and the more academically able of the pair, it will be your duty to keep your partner at a sufficient scholastic level."

Stein sighed and twisted the screw in his head. "The special training program is for the DWMA's elite students, called Spartoi. As I said before, Spartoi is divided up into teams of three meisters and their weapons. These teams are taught a high-level skill called Chain Resonance. This skill is crucial to all subsequent training. Chain Resonance is very similar to the Soul Resonance you already do with your weapon partners, except that it connects all the members in the team through the meisters.

"Starting tomorrow, you will be exempt from your morning classes and spend your extra time in intensive training with me. Your afternoon schedules will remain unchanged. You are dismissed." Giving his students no time to ask questions, complain, or argue, Stein turned and strode out of the classroom.

Soul watched his meister pace relentlessly across the empty classroom. Back and forth, back and forth. He noted with detached interest that the pitch of her footsteps changed depending on where she walked in relation to him. Higher when she was farther away and approaching him, lower when she passed by and walked away, only to change again as she switched direction. He imagined that he could feel the echoes bouncing off the bare classroom walls vibrating in the metal embedded in his skin. Patiently, he waited for Maka to speak.

At last, the scythe technician forced her restless feet to stop and heaved herself up to sit on the teacher's desk, feet dangling over the edge. She met Soul's crimson gaze, worry etched all over her face. "I don't know what to do," she confessed. "I don't know whether or not to go through with this. It could ruin everything."

"What? Maka isn't sure whether she's happy about being advanced in her training?" Soul joked lightly.

"This is serious, Soul!" Maka snapped. "If we have to do Chain Resonance, they might figure that out, and then we'll have to explain everything. I'm not even sure if we can do Chain Resonance. We could accidentally mess something up, and then they would figure out where we are. I'm pretty sure the only reason we've been safe so far is the fact that all of the powerful wavelengths from the other weapons and meisters here have shielded us from detection."

"Way to talk in extremely vague code, Maka," Soul muttered. "But yeah, I know. We're gonna have to be careful." He rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. "Do you know much about Chain Resonance?" he asked his meister.

Maka shrugged. "A little. I've read about it before."

"There's something Stein said—about Chain Resonance connecting the weapon-meister partners through the meister?"

"Yeah. Basically, after the individual partner sets have resonated, the meisters connect with one another to form the chain."

"So the weapons don't necessarily connect directly to the 'chain,'" Soul mused.

"I guess not," Maka allowed, biting her lip. "But I don't know much about the exact nature of the connection. I can't guess how much the others would be able to sense in such a resonance."

Both fell silent, thinking. Finally, Soul said, "We don't really have much choice but to try it. Stein didn't make it sound like it was optional, and he'll know right away if we just don't put any effort into actually succeeding. The only other thing we can do is run again, and that's just as risky—maybe even more so." He paused. "I think we'll be okay. Even if Black*Star or Kid or the girls feel something weird about my soul, I don't think that just doing the resonance will cause any harm. When you and I resonate there are no problems, and my connection will still be through you."

Maka frowned, but she understood his logic. "Okay," she agreed reluctantly. "We'll do it."

"No resting," Stein ordered. "Again!"

Maka resisted the urge to glare at her professor and snapped her eyes shut, scowling in ferocious concentration. Her face gleamed with sweat, and she breathed heavily. Black*Star and Death the Kid did not fare much better. The three stood in a triangle, facing one another, each holding their transformed weapons in their hands. The meisters focused inward, searching their souls for their source of power. Grasping that power, they drew it out, letting it fill their bodies and then grow beyond. Stein, watching the trio work with his Soul Perception, saw their power expand outward and manifest, encompassing their bodies in large globes that mirrored their souls in shape.

Once they had hold of their power, the meisters prepared to resonate with one another. Kid, Maka called with her soul.

Maka, came the cool reply.

Slowly, carefully, Maka reached toward the young shinigami with her soul, adjusting her wavelength until it matched his. Threads of power stretched across the gap between the souls and melded them together. Maka forced herself not to cringe away from the contact. Forcing her lungs to inhale deeply, she called, Okay, we're connected. So far, so good. Maka exhaled evenly. Black*Star. She felt Kid follow her lead as she directed her wavelength toward the shadow technician. Her soul sprouted a vine of power that crept towards Black*Star's soul. Black*Star's power poured out to meet her. The two souls drew closer and closer, nearly touching, and—

CRACK!

Abruptly, the power rebounded. The connections snapped, and the three meisters lost control of their wavelengths. All three stumbled and nearly fell as their souls explosively rejected one another. Dirt and fallen leaves flew through the air as the uncontrolled power stirred up a brief tempest. Maka winced as a pebble cut across her cheek. She recovered her balance and straightened, green eyes flashing furiously.

"Another failure," Stein stated. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses. For two weeks he had observed the newest Spartoi team struggling to master Chain Resonance, and still they had nothing to show for their efforts. The reason they keep failing is obvious, he mused. Black*Star's wavelength is trying to take over. It won't accept Maka's lead and mesh with the others. Stein's gaze fell on the thin blonde, quietly simmering with pent-up rage. But he may not be the only problem they have.

"Get it right, Black*Star!" Maka spat, shooting a death glare at the blue-haired ninja.

"I am, Maka!" Black*Star retorted. Exhaustion and frustration sharpened both of their voices.

"You never think of anyone but yourself, Black*Star!" Maka snapped. "Try working with everyone else this time!"

"Why bother?" sneered Black*Star. "Who would want to work with an idiot like you, anyway?" Maka's fists clenched, her spine going rigid with fury. Ignoring the danger signs, Black*Star pushed harder. "Can't you see you're the weak link here?"

"Say that again, you punk," Maka growled, taking a step toward Black*Star. The shadow technician smirked at her, silently daring her to come closer.

Kid threw an arm in front of Maka, blocking her further advancement. "Guys, stop it!" he warned.

"Let's go ahead and take a break," Stein sighed, twisting the screw in his head. He turned and walked away. "Maybe talking things through will help you clear your minds a little bit."

"There's no point in talking to a fool," Maka avowed darkly. She and Black*Star glowered at one another as the weapons glowed briefly and changed back into their human forms. Patty sucked on her lower lip, looking from Black*Star to Maka with giant eyes while Tsubaki clasped her hands tightly together, anxiety clouding her sweet face. Soul tightly gripped Maka's upper arm, as much to offer silent warning and comfort as to balance himself while she pulled a collapsible crutch from the folds of her trench coat.

Maka continued to seethe as Soul limped over to his wheelchair, parked at the edge of the forest clearing where they "practiced" Chain Resonance every morning. Maka had worried about the consequences of attempting the technique, but she had never dreamed that they wouldn't manage to accomplish it at all! The idea was utterly ridiculous! She was Maka, the youngest meister to ever create a Death Scythe. There was nothing she couldn't master when she set her mind to it!

Ox could do Chain Resonance. He and a few of Maka's other classmates—Killik Rung and Kim Diehl—had been the first Spartoi team. For a moment, Maka wavered, her anger split between the arrogant Ox Ford and the narcissistic Black*Star, before she directed all of her wrath toward the latter. Black*Star was the one holding her back. That jerk's wavelength was impossible to match.

"Everything's always about you, Black*Star," Maka muttered through gritted teeth. "You think you're some god but you're really just a second-rate brat who can't do anything right."

Black*Star stiffened. His head whipped around, and he fastened dangerously glinting jade eyes on Maka. "Oh yeah? Look at you! You always boss people around, and push them to their limits until they break! It's a miracle anyone can stand you!"

Maka's mind went blank as white hot ire flared within her. She whirled. She did not know when her feet carried her across the clearing, or when her fist drew back. She barely registered the moment when Black*Star's hand shot up to catch her punch. Then Black*Star shifted his weight and yanked Maka forward, throwing her over his hip. She landed hard on her back, the wind knocked out of her. The pain returned her to her senses, but did not slow her down. In a motion faster than the eye could see, she leaped to her feet, spun around, and threw another punch at Black*Star.

This time, the ninja made no attempt to stop her. Maka's knuckles crashed into his stubborn jaw. Bone creaked threateningly. Two pairs of gleaming green eyes seared into one another. Slowly, Maka pulled her fist away from Black*Star's face. Abruptly, she turned and stalked away.

At the edge of the clearing, she paused. She felt an eruption bubbling up her throat. Her whole body trembled. Fingernails carving bloody furrows into her palms, she let the scream tear from her vocal chords.

"YOU BASTAAAAARD!"

And she ran.

Author's Note: Beh. If you have questions (Wtf? Leather and cologne?) I'll answer them. By the way, I seriously hated this episode of the anime, so if anyone wants to commiserate, feel free to spiel in your review or whatever.

~ Shenzuul