A/N: This chapter's theme is thanks to Professor Maka! I've gotten a lot of great suggestions so far!
Thanks as always to everyone who's reviewing and following my story! I really appreciate your words of encouragement!
Quirk
Maka realized something odd was happening after she started to hear tinklings of music when she was reading in complete silence.
For him, music was natural; no matter what he did, there was some sort of emotion attached, and emotion translated into music. Without ever consciously contributing, Soul was always building and tweaking compositions in his mind, changing life into sounds.
When he would wake up in the mornings, Maka would hear a few chiming notes, often sounding frustrated or dissonant. As he sat in class, staring into space, his mind would run through the same few measures of something, a song that Maka could only assume he was composing. When they sat together on the couch and their hands brushed, his mind would sing a few high notes of surprise (and was that a hint of happiness she felt?).
Something was happening along their connection outside of resonance, and Maka really had no reason to complain. Soul's music was nice.
Soul realized something was a bit off when he was getting so goddamn irritable a few days every month, and when he could not for the life of him figure out why he would kill for a chocolate bar.
When he confronted Maka, chagrin evident on his face (getting sick was not cool), about the sharp stomach pains he was feeling, her look of realization and the deep blush on her cheeks only served to frustrate and confuse him. Without a word, she rummaged in the cupboard (they kept something all the way back there?) and shoved something wrapped in crinkly silver into his hands before sprinting to her room.
Chocolate.
Why would Maka have a secret stash of chocolate? Whenever he wanted to get sweets, she would shoot him down, saying that they needed their money for the bills and "real food." Soul snorted. Hah. Hypocrite.
Even so... the chocolate was looking pretty damn tasty. It was pretty cool of Maka to guess that he was craving some. With a shrug, he peeled back the wrapper and began to shuffle his way back to his own bedroom, when a wave of pure embarrassment hit him. What the fuck?
A small growl of frustration and the soft sound of a pillow being struck repeatedly reached Soul.
Maka was embarrassed?
Why?
And why was he feeling it?
The stomach pain returned in full force, and Soul heard a whimper.
Oh. Oh.
Maka was on her period, and he was feeling it too.
Soul returned to the kitchen, shuffling a few things around in the cupboard while searching for his target. He then moved to the bathroom and grabbed something under the sink. Items in tow, he made his way to Maka's doorway and threw a handful of chocolate bars and a heat pack in the general direction of his partner's bed.
A meek flash of appreciation thrummed across the strange new connection as he wandered back to his room.
It quickly turned into anger and embarrassment when Soul shouted across the apartment, "And take some fucking Midol or something! Jesus, this shit hurts! Keep your lady business to yourself!"
He suddenly had an eerie desire to smash the spine of a book into his skull.
A/N: I love the idea of Soul and Maka being close enough to constantly be in a low-functioning state of resonance. I probably will be revisiting this idea a lot; it seems pretty natural, and I think it would go nicely with a romantic prompt too. Wink wink.
