Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater. I do own the plot. Any other sources used that are not of my own creation (poetry, lyrics, quotes, etc) or things that may not be common knowledge shall be cited and I will explain their relevance at the end. Anything not cited is of my own imagination.

Also, to –the killer imperfectionist- I was just wondering if there were any songs by Secondhand Serenade and The Script that you'd recommend I check out in specific? Just wanted to see if there were, cause if not I'll just look around at what I can find. :)

Chapter Seven

He knew something was wrong the minute he woke up; one glance at the clock and, realizing that it was nearly nine o'clock, he had scrambled to his feet frantically. Normally, Maka would have come into his room, brandishing a thick novel, by this time for a wake-up call. If he ignored her polite and delicate prods, she would result to Maka-Chopping the hell out of him until he scrambled free of his newfound quilt prison until he was yelling at her to stop.

Sleeping in, though a beautiful thing, was not comforting at all; this break in the routine sent up multiple red alarms.

He darted down the hall (after having his usual battle with his comforter) to Maka's room. A maid was just exiting, a worried frown on her lips. "Hey, what's going on?" He called loudly, causing the poor woman to jump and squeak. She shot him a sharp glanced and breathed a small sigh.

"Young Master, please do keep your voice down. Miss Maka has a small fever and a terrible cough; she was up half this night unable to sleep. She's resting now, but you must stay quiet so as to not disturb her," She explained in a delicate yet urgent tone of voice.

"So even the Singer of Steel can get knocked down by something as basic as a cold, huh? Not as cool as I thought," He scoffed nonchalantly. He lifted his hands and rested them behind his head, making a small snorting noise. "Oh well, I guess I can let this flaw slide." He said, turning to walk away.

"Thank you, Young Master," The maid said patiently before turning and leaving as well. He walked slowly, waiting until he heard the somewhat rushed clack of her shoes against the tile disappear, to back track. He dropped his arms to his side as he headed over, looking around to make sure the maid was gone, before carefully opening the door a crack. He slowly crept into the darkened room, making sure to not release so much as a small whistle through his nose.

He looked around, using what little light had slipped in through the drawn currents and underneath the door to light his way. Maka's room was a little smaller than his own (which was the size of a master room, with an adjacent bathroom) but there was almost too much space. All she had requested with a twin sized bed, a modest oak dresser and a matching oak desk. The desk was pressed to the wall beside her bed, positioned so it was by the foot of her bed, while the dresser was opposite the bed. It was sent as such, he assumed, because the closet door was the door to the immediate right of the mentioned furniture. He could see the shadow of an item on the desk and, because he was an impulsive fool like that, he let his curiosity get the better of him and he headed over to investigate.

He settled into the desk chair easily enough, acting as if he owned the place, and looked down at the journal before him. At first he thought it was the journal she wrote her observations of his family (or, in reality, just him) in, but then he realized the pattern was different. 'This must be that book of poetry they turn into lyrics,' He thought in slight surprise. He was then delighted. 'May as well see what sort of heat-wrenching, angsty crap we'll be forced to perform next.'

Soul had looked through his sheet music and, aside for maybe four or five songs, they all seemed to be terribly depressing songs. Hell, he was surprised they had enough music to pull of that gig the other night! Then again, they had sped a few pieces up and Maka made a few last minute changes, so he guessed that was a little more understandable. But what those songs implied came out loud and clear; Maka Albarn was not a happy person. And Soul was determined to find out why. He opened the journal and flipped through to find the most recently written song, blinking a bit as he started to read it.

A spotlight's shining brightly
On my face
And I can't see a thing
And yet I feel you , looking my way.

Now, this was something a little different for the girl he had come to recognize as their group leader. From what he could tell, all Maka's cheery songs were last-minute write ups to keep from getting booted for being too mopey. The song still did have time to hold true to its writer's usual taste, however, and so he decided to press on.

An empty stage
With nothing but this girl
Who's singing this simple melody
And wearing her heart on her sleeve
And right now...

He was a little surprised, but his fingers began to lightly tap into a tempo, adapting to what the poem was portraying. One hand held the journal up, tilted to a degree so that he could see the words better, and the other began shifting as if following along on the keys of his piano. He wasn't sure if this sensation was terrifying or thrilling but he did understand something suddenly. He knew one of the other reasons Maka was the leader and why they didn't replace her with a more sexually appealing girl; she had a talent for writing that could turn quite the profit.

I have you
For a moment I can tell I've got you
Cause your lips don't move
And something is happening
Cause your eyes tell me the truth
I've put a spell over you.

The song had a bit of a bittersweet sentiment to it in his opinion. It seemed like a song about unrequited love to him. Was it possible that, after their little run in with Chrona the other day, she had written this song about him? The thought made his hand twitched and his narrow a little bit, jealously prodding at his mind. He quickly tossed it aside. What did he have to be jealous of? From what Kid had told him, they hadn't been in a romantic relationship. Then again, Kid wasn't his biggest fan; he could have lied because he didn't want Soul to know the full truth.

Beauty emanates from every word that you say
And capture the deepest thoughts
In the purest and simplest of ways
But you see
I'm not that graceful like you
Nor am I as eloquent
But just a simple melody
Can change the way that you see me
And right now..

He scoffed a bit, reassuring himself that this song could not be about Chrona. After all, Chrona was an unsure mess. A voice in the back of his head, one he was choosing to try and ignore, argued that maybe Maka had a thing for weird guys. Considering who she worked with to make music, that thought might not be far off but he again refused to face it. He wanted to think that Maka was the most normal (because he had a hunch Tsubaki liked Black*Star a little more than friends, and that concept made her rather abnormal) in the group aside from himself and that, if only because of that, his growing fondness for her was rationalized.

I have you
For a moment I can tell I've got you
Cause your lips don't move
And something is happening
Cause your eyes tell me the truth
I've put a spell over you.

Soul didn't realize it, but as he read those lyrics there was another person watching him. Kami sat beside her daughter on the bed, making sure that the rag the maid put on her head was still cool. "What kind of a person are you, Soul Evans?" She asked aloud, looking down at her child's face. She smiled lightly and continued, despite knowing he would not hear her. "Will you be the one to cure my baby, free her of the curse I placed on her over all those years? I certainly hope so; Maka is far from a damsel in distress but she could still use a little support." She looked up again to see Soul had resumed his reading. "How rude." She said dryly, trying to amuse herself.

All my life I stumble
But up here I am just perfect
Perfect as I'll ever be... (1)

"Hmm. Pretty good," He mumbled, shutting the notebook and leaning back in the chair. Kami chuckled at how he tried to play it off that he was unimpressed. She went to move a strand of hair from the girl's face and Maka whimpered, feeling the cold patch from her mother's ghostly presence, and Soul looked up. Briefly, he and Kami locked eyes. And though he couldn't see her, he had a strange sensation of being watched.

He got up and headed over, checking to see if Maka was awake yet. He watched, a bit surprised, as her lids lifted over tired looking moss tinted orbs. "What are you doing here?" She coughed out lightly, fingers curling around her blanket.

"The maid said you were sick; I came to see if you were faking it to get out of our first rehearsal with our new instructor. It's always the goody-two-shoes like you who bail out on the challenging stuff, after all," He said, smirking at her lightly. He made sure to keep his tone light and teasing, so as to not offend her.

She giggled lightly and then coughed into her blankets, making a small noise of discomfort. "Don't make me laugh, you jerk," She grumbled with a small whimper. He nodded and glanced over at her desk, making sure it was in the same order he found it in, then back at her.

"Do you want me to get you some water or anything?" He offered. She shook her head in response and nuzzled deeper into the blankets with a content little sigh. He then looked at the ceiling before grinning at her. "Do you want to play a game?"

"That depends," She started out, voice still groggy but suspicious all the same, "what type of game we're talking about exactly."

"A little parroting game," Soul stated. He pulled the chair from the desk over so that he and Maka could speak easier. "I'll say something I like and then, if you like it too, you'll repeat the sentence back the exact same way I said it. If not, you'll change it from like to dislike. We can also state facts about our families or friends and it works the same way. Simple enough, right?"

"Is this an attempt to learn more about me? If so, you're not very good at being a sleuth," She stated blandly, hiking the covers up a little more so that only from her eyes up was visible. He could still see a coating of suspicion in her eyes. "And how do I even know that you'll tell the truth?"

"Well how will I know if you're telling the truth?" He rebuked, making her blink a few times in surprise. She then glared a bit, as if annoyed he may have revealed some part of her plans. "It's our own decisions to be honest or not. That's part of the fun of this game; seeing what the other is honest about in the long term."

"… I guess this game could be a little interesting," She grumbled lightly, coughing into her blankets again. She burrowed back into her bed, eyes shut, and made a small noise at him to start up.

"Let's see here, where to start," He trailed lightly, tapping his chin as he put some thought into it. He couldn't start out too bold, or Maka might pull one of her many books out and attack him. And, given that she wasn't feeling up to 100 percent right now, he thought that would be a bad idea. "Well, my favorite color is blue."

"Well, my favorite color is orange," She responded after a second. She kept her eyes closed, as if that helped her from revealing too much to him, but he decided to give her that much.

"Huh, that's weird. For some reason you strike me as a pink or purple kind of person," He said with a nod. She still didn't open her eyes. "Well, okay, you're turn."

"My favorite animals are anything in the cat family; house cats, tigers, or lions. If it is a member of the feline family, I have a soft spot for it," She announced, a small smile coming to her lips. He smiled as well, knowing that she was telling the truth just by that look.

"My favorite animals are turtles," He said, trying his hardest to not sound too flustered about it. He usually life about that little fact because… Well, think about it. Not many people think that turtles are all that cool. Most people would assume that someone like him would like wolves or bears or something else with face-tearing ability.

"I could see that," She said casually with a small giggle. When he stayed silent she peeked one eye open and looked at him. "You're cool in the real sense of the word, Soul; meaning that you wouldn't fall into some silly little cliché that cool guys like big, bad animals."

He had to smirk at this. "I guess you aren't as bad as I thought," He said, leaning his hands behind his head and tilting the chair back a bit. Kami, still present but being quiet for once, shook her head and tsked about how he'd hurt himself if he fell over. "Okay, my turn again. My favorite foreign food is Japanese; sushi pretty much rocks my socks off."

"My favorite foreign food is Japanese; sushi pretty much rocks my socks off," Maka parroted perfectly with a small scowl on her lips. Soul had to snicker at the expression she made, as if repeating what he said perfectly was physically troublesome to her. She seemed to shake it off pretty quickly, though. "I'm actually Japanese, myself. My mother grew up out there until she came here with her family and met my father."

"That's pretty wicked. I knew you had a splash of some foreign blood in you," Soul beamed lightly. He was grateful she had offered that up; it helped him ease into the subject of family. He knew about Chrona, now, but he also knew there was more to her "delicate" psyche that must stem from her home life. "Okay. I haven't had a family member pass away yet in my life time," He said calmly. He then let out a small chuckle. "I'm actually kind of a grandma's boy, no matter how lame that might sound."

Maka opened her eyes slowly and looked at him, eyes void of emotion. There was a sudden tension in the air that made Soul feel he was suffocating, that if he didn't leave something would snap and that would be the end of that. And what, exactly, was that? He wasn't too sure, but he just knew that it was important. "My only remaining relative alive is my father but, in all actuality, I'm practically all alone," She said gruffly before turning over so her back was to him.

"Maka, lo-"

"Can you just… Go, please?" Maka cut him off sharply. She glared at the wall, biting back bitter tears and trying hard not to cough from the struggle. "I need to get my rest and you should probably go to rehearsal."

"What fun would it be without you?" He answered, keeping his tone light and calm, but also being earnest. There was something about this girl that set a spark alive in everyone (including Black*Star) that Soul had never seen one person do. And, to be honest, he somehow felt better when she was near him. He knew it was a little crazy, but it was exactly how he felt inside.

So he sat there, just listening to the silence of the room and keeping the sick girl from feeling truly alone.

And, maybe, it was better that way for the pair of them.

Stein looked at the five youths in the room curiously. Marie stood a few feet behind him, a bright smile on her lips. "Lady Evans told me there are six of you in the group. So, who exactly is missing and what do they play?" He asked as he pushed up his glasses a little more on his nose.

The darkest haired woman stepped forward. "Actually, Dr. Stein, Black*Star isn't a member of the band," She said, gesturing to the blue haired brat whom Stein had back-handed into a wall shortly after arriving. The shrimpy punk had gotten up in the older male's face and, having the common sense to know that the other could not be reasoned with, the taller had decided to force him out of the way with physical ability.

He just hoped that Masumi didn't take the money to repair the wall out of he and Marie's paychecks.

"Maka is our singer but she isn't here because she has a fever and needs her rest. Soul is our pianist and we're not actually too sure where he is," She tacked on calmly, perking up and releasing a small sigh of relief when she saw Black*Star hobbling his way back over to the rest of the group.

"Well I'm sure he'll find his way here eventually," Stein stated before smirking deviously. Marie giggled and locked the door, sensing what her conductor had in mind. The children in the room all flinched and tensed at this. "Let's begin with introductions, okay?" He said while pulling out a scalpel.

Masumi Evans came to a sudden realization as she looked at the tattered remains of what was once Soul's practice room; ever since Maka Albarn and her crew showed up, things tended to get broken a lot more often around the house.

End

(1) Spell by Marie Digby, as recommended to me by OhMyGoshsickles. I loved both songs and will probably use 505 at a later point in this story~!

Notes before I leave to tend to business:

Sorry this chapter was short; between work, preparing for putting in new carpet, being busy and having to see the dentist, my week was a little hectic and I just wanted to give you all a little something as a treat. Also, my next update may be a little late as well. I go in on Thursday/Friday to get all four of my wisdom teeth and three others removed and will be hopped up on Vicodin for a few days. I'll try to do what I can before then, but I will not post until about next Wednesday(the 8th)/Thursday(the 9th) even if I finish them before I go in (Friday, depending on how my healing is going).

Do you hate Soul's mommy yet? Because you will, by the time this story is over.

I'll leave the poll on my account until my next update; after that, I'll take it down and tally up the votes. If you haven't voted yet, hop to it! :D

Next Chapter:

Maka realizes that she had no idea what the word "humiliation" meant until she met Doctor Franken Stein. Soul realizes that he actually does have a caring bone in his body… And shortly after realizes it drops his coolness a good 5 percent. Stein decides that maybe he should listen to Marie and try a more "delicate" approach in handling his new test sub- I mean, new musicians.