Chapter Nine

Whatever Stein had said to her father, it worked, because he conceded to her temporary departure (albeit tearfully and with no small amount of scolding over her joining the races in the first place). He hovered uselessly in the doorway as he watched her pack, hands aflutter with the need to help, though Maka would have none of it. Blair had done her best to distract him, but despite the Baron's love for beautiful women, he could not be dissuaded from seeing his daughter off.

"Are you entirely sure about this?" he asked her for the hundredth time.

"You're the one who agreed in the end," Maka reminded him. "I'm not safe here; at least in the warehouse I'll constantly have someone near me."

Her father's face twisted into the scowl as he muttered, "Near Stein."

"I don't understand your animosity," Maka said, rifling through her armoire. She skimmed past the silk skirts and ruffled dresses, opting instead for the rough linen shirts she'd hoarded over the past few months. High-society apparel would do her no good within the warehouse and the streets of Kentish Town. "He was the one who convinced you to let me stay."

Spirit was silent for a long moment; given his propensity for words, this was quite a feat. Never before had she seen him look so conflicted, but he would not elaborate his reason, opting instead to say, "Promise your papa you will be careful. You're strong like your mother, but there are things out there-"

"I know," Maka said. "I know what's out there. I've seen it."

"I wish you hadn't," he said quietly, and again he looked more serious than she had ever seen him. "You deserve so much more than this, Maka."

"Deserve what?" she asked, smoothing out a pair of trousers. "A house that isn't really mine? A husband who only loves my title, my dowry? I don't like the situation any more than you do, but my choices are my own. That is what I deserve."

Their gazes locked then, but as her father's piercing blue eyes searched her face, Maka had the creeping feeling that it wasn't her he was seeing. A lump grew in her throat and she swallowed hard to clear it. "I should be leaving soon. They'll be expecting me," she said quietly.

Spirit snapped back from wherever he had been and bounded forward to snatch up her bag. "If that madman Stein ever gets too close with that scalpel of his, you tell your papa immediately," he said, and he launched into a tirade about what exactly would happen should anyone dare to lay their hands on his precious daughter. Years of practice made it simple to tune him out, and his voice soon faded into the background as she descended the steps to the front door.

Blair was waiting in the entranceway, wearing her usual playful smile. "Miss Maka will tell Blair if anything happens," she said, the order sounding unusual coming from her. "And Blair will keep her ears to the ground while Miss Maka is away."

"Thank you, Blair," Maka said, cutting her father off mid-rant. "For everything."

"Miss Maka can thank Blair when this is all over," Blair dismissed, taking Maka's bag. "Surely this is not all Miss Maka is bringing?"

Maka shook her head and gave a sheepish smile. "I have a trunk upstairs."

"Miss Maka will not need that many books," Blair scolded, wagging a finger at her. "Miss Maka has friends to talk to, and a very handsome-"

"That is quite enough," Maka said loudly, shooting an anxious glance over her shoulder at her father, who mercifully had not heard Blair's comment. "And you have never met him before, how could you possibly know that-"

"Miss Maka just said so," Blair said smugly, turning in her heel to lead her charge outside to the carriage.

"I - you didn't - Blair!" Maka sputtered as she scurried after her.

"Blair has never seen Miss Maka get so flustered over a man before. Especially not the ones her father brings to visit. Blair would like to meet Miss Maka's partner, that is all." The mischievous spark in her maid's eye said otherwise.

"That will never happen if Miss Maka - I mean, if I, have anything to say about it," Maka said, wishing she could blame her flushed cheeks on the cold.

Blair pouted, then quickly shrugged it off. "Then let us hope you don't!"

"You are incorrigible," Maka muttered.

"Maybe so. But Miss Maka has dawdled long enough," she said, flapping her hands to shoo her into the carriage.

"I wasn't - you were the one who-" But Blair was already bustling back inside to supervise the collection of Maka's trunk, and she was left alone in the carriage. Blair's tinkling laughter drifted out the door and even though Maka was still a little irritated at the one-sided conversation that had just occurred, she knew she would miss her pushy, meddlesome maid in the coming weeks.

Despite the fuss that had ensued during Maka's packing, her departure from Number 13 and arrival at the Spartoi warehouse went relatively smoothly. Soul, as predicted, ridiculed her at great length for bringing as many books as she had, but the rug was pulled violently out from under him when Black*Star "lost his grip" on one end of the trunk and brought it crashing down squarely on his friend's foot. Even Maka could not contain her giggles, no matter how darkly Soul glared at her afterwards.

Maka found herself with ample time on her hands, as she was the only one without a job outside of Spartoi to keep her busy. But she still had plenty of company, as most of her teammates chose to spend their days off at the warehouse; even Ox sometimes skulked in the shadows during his rare free time.

Maka began to look forward to these occasions: learning how to throw a punch from Kilik and Black*Star, ridiculing high society with Kim and Jackie, learning of Tsubaki's homeland, losing abysmally to Harvar at cards. When the racers were otherwise occupied with their work, the Thompsons could be counted on to be in their workshop. Liz could be nosy and Patti was eccentric, but the girls were friendly and always receptive to questions. Occasionally the two would fall into a kind of trance as they worked, falling deaf to any outside noise, and it was during these moments that Maka chose to make her exit to find entertainment in her books.

She also had taken to exploring the old warehouse, as there were plenty of rooms she had yet to see. Most, of course, were storerooms or abandoned zeppelin workrooms, but Spartoi had commandeered a few extra spaces for personal use. There was, of course, Ox's library, which Maka secretly perused on the days he worked - whatever peace they had established, she had a feeling it would not extend towards his books. They were dry, boring things anyway, written by dry, boring old men puffed up on the illusion of their own importance. Why Ox preferred them Maka would never understand.

There was also a small room tucked into the very corner of the warehouse that housed nothing more than a small, unassuming piano. Maka knew instantly that it was Soul's, and though she sat down a few times to try and play the tunes that her tutors had taught her, she could never emulate the melodies they had produced. Maka's mind was one of logic and academia, not rhythm and harmony. That, it seemed, was Soul's domain.

The man himself seemed to frequent the warehouse more than usual, prompting Maka to ask why he didn't spend his most of his days at the gentlemen's club like she expected. Soul simply waved his hand in reply and said, "I'm not the only pianist on their payroll. I wonder why they don't just use an autopiano, but I think the owner is something of an auto-phobe."

Maka nodded in understanding. There was a relatively small group in London who viewed the omnipresent automatons with fear and revulsion. Maka didn't hold to their beliefs, of course, as there was no evidence to support any of their preposterous claims.

Still, Maka would not be swayed from the topic she'd latched upon. "Surely you could still request more hours. It seems silly for you to pursue a second line of work, only to spend most of your time in idleness."

"Is this your none-too-subtle way of telling me to scarper?" Soul asked, lifting one eyebrow.

"No, not at all! I'm only asking because I'd like to ensure that you aren't decreasing your hours to keep me company. I know I've complained of boredom, but really, I'm perfectly fine on my own."

"You flatter yourself," Soul replied, but his words were light instead of cruel. "I'm not here because I'm trying to entertain you, only that I don't much care for the club. Besides, playing the same songs every day is tedious," he said, shrugging.

"Do you compose?" Maka asked curiously, setting her chin in her hand. A flash of pale blue skin caught her eye, and she peered over Soul's shoulder just in time to see Sid's head pop back into the office. Sadly, it hadn't been the first time she'd caught him sneaking a glimpse at the two racers, and her ears went pink. The implication that this was a meeting that required chaperoning horrified her to say the least.

Soul, whose back was to the office, hadn't noticed, thankfully. He shifted a little and wouldn't meet her eye as he said, "I do, at times."

Maka sat up, a gleam in her eye. "Do you really? You must play for me!"

Soul snorted. "I will do no such thing."

"Why not? I found an old piano in one of the back rooms, I'm sure it's sufficient enough-"

If the piano was indeed Soul's, he gave no indication of it. "The issue is not a lack of piano, only a lack of resolve."

Maka tried to argue the point with him, but Soul stubbornly refused to back down. She deflated a little and tried to ignore the voice that asked her just why she thought he would make an exception for her.

She sighed and changed the subject, much to her partner's relief. "Well, at least the race tonight will provide a nice change of pace for me."

"You've entered?" Soul asked, and she did not much like the look on his face.

"Of course I've entered. I'm not going to let Arachne scare me into hiding, and I certainly won't let her take the races from me!"

"I know we established that, yes, but I'm still not sure it's the safest idea."

"You never struck me as the type to worry about what was safe."

This seemed to throw him off for some reason. "Yes, but it's not only me I have to worry about, is it? Not when I have a partner who seems hell-bent in throwing herself headlong into the most dangerous situations possible."

"I am not!"

"Pardon me, but I think your judgment is clouded."

"Lord Death agreed with my idea," she sniffed.

"Yes, but you've never actually met the man. His agreement isn't much of a vote of confidence."

Maka squared her shoulders. "You can't stop me from racing."

"I never said I would."

"But-"

"All I've ever said was I didn't like it, not that I wouldn't go along."

"I suppose I'll save you the time and assume that's your response to any plan of action I come up with, then."

"Getting cheeky there, Ms. Albarn. Oh, I'm sorry, it's Lady Albarn, isn't it?"

"Don't call me that," Maka said, a little harsher than she'd meant. Soul's brows drew together at her tone and she corrected herself. "I'm sorry, but this is the very reason I didn't want anyone to know. Suddenly I'm not Maka anymore, I'm Lady Albarn, and I never wanted that. I only ever wanted you to see me."

"I see you," Soul said. "We all do."

"Well, here's hoping Arachne does as well," Maka said resolutely.

Soul groaned and buried his head in his hands. "This is not going to end well."

As it turned out, Soul wasn't quite right in his prediction.

"-see anything?" The combined roar of axel engines and the restless crowd nearly drowned out his words, but Maka could still infer his meaning. He balanced perfectly on the stirrups of his axel and he craned his neck to scan the masses gathered, but Maka knew it was an exercise in futility. All of Spartoi was on the lookout that night, but there was no telling how Arachne's influence might exert itself.

Maka pointed this out to Soul. "None of us know what to look for; I could be staring right at the next rogue and I'd never know!"

Soul paused and gave her a strange look. "Ye-es," he said slowly. "You would. Maka, you can actually see people's souls. What's the problem again?"

Maka gaped at him stupidly, then kicked herself for not thinking of it before - though maybe it was understandable, considering her last encounter with the aether. Quickly she called out and summoned her soul perception, but when she opened her eyes, she nearly fell over.

"Maka!" Soul cursed as his hand darted out to right her. "Everything alright?"

"Yes," Maka panted as she planted her feet firmly on the ground. "That is just - a lot of people." She blinked hard, her vision streaked with blue. The glow was bright, like trying to look into the sun. Never before had she purposely used her soul perception in a crowd of this size, and she never would again if she could help it.

"Is it too much?" Soul asked, scanning the crowd as he tried to envision what she saw.

Maka blinked again and squinted, dimming the souls down to a more bearable tone. "No." She wrapped her fingers tightly around the axel grips as she centered herself. "I can do this."

Soul didn't look like he entirely believed her, but regardless, he pulled away to give her space. Maka swiveled her head left and right, eyes watering as she scanned the crowd. Anything blue was ignored; all she needed was the red.

To her relief, the colors faded out as her goal became clearer. She didn't want every soul, only that one, that sickly red that didn't belong…

What she found instead was a cross of the two. Maka stiffened as her soul perception latched onto a sickly-looking flash of purple that hovered at the fringes of the crowd. There, by the side alley! A slim figure shrouded in a pitch-black cloak stood completely still, the figure's face hidden entirely within the hood.

Soul took note of her change in demeanor and leaned in. "You've seen something."

"Near the alley by Twyford Road," she murmured by his ear, just barely tugging down her collar so he could hear. "Black cloak. But something's wrong with his soul… it's similar to the spider in a way, but different. I'm not sure."

"Do you want to go after him? I know we're registered, but this is more important." Soul's fingers tapped an irregular beat on the metal steering column as he waited for her decision.

"I… don't know. What do you think?" Everyone kept leaving the decisions up to her, as though Maka had all the answers. Granted, not having them wasn't something she liked to admit, and she was the one with the Grigori soul, but that didn't mean everything had to be left to her. She was just as lost as the rest of them sometimes.

Soul, who had spotted the figure by then, narrowed his eyes and chewed on his lip. "Hmm. I say we wait. If Arachne's sent someone to keep an eye on you, he'll most likely stay the whole race. We can decide what to do afterwards. If we do move now we might draw more attention than we want, anyway."

Maka nodded. "Then I agree."

Waiting, of course, would be easier said than done. Anxiety scratched at her skin like a wool blanket and made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle with unease. Her soul perception faded, but the uncertainty remained. Someone was indeed there, watching her. He had to be connected to Arachne, for who else would carry with them such a tainted soul?

The question now: what was she to do about it?

Maka could barely focus on the race; her movements were fueled only by muscle memory as her mind churned. That soul… it hadn't looked quite as sick as the spider, but that didn't mean it didn't still need her help. The thought startled her - help a man who was sent after her soul? But the afterimage of the warped, purple ball of light hovered in her mind and the answer was clear: yes. How could she not help a sickly soul like that? But the last time she had pulled from metal; this time the soul was housed in live human flesh. Could she do that - look someone in the eye while she ripped their soul from their body? She didn't think there was a way to cleanse tainted souls, no way to purge the darkness that had infected it. What else could she do then but release it completely?

Her preoccupation nearly cost her her safety as a league racer nearly clipped her side. Soul pulled up as she swerved away, his red eyes wide behind the clear glass of his goggles. Are you alright? he mouthed to her.

Maka's head moved in some strange combination of a nod and a shake. Soul looked at her bemusedly before revving his engine and pulling forward; he still looked at her as though asking, You coming?

Shaking herself from her morbid thoughts, Maka's brows drew together as she pressed against her axel and shot forward. Soul led her on, finding all the gaps and clear spaces she needed to pull along to the front. But Maka's distraction cost them first and second, as Harvar and Kilik beat them to it.

Kilik watched them warily as they pulled to a stop in front of them. "Something's amiss."

Soul pulled off his cap and tossed it to him before dismounting. "Someone's here," he said. Maka mimicked his actions, though she kept her gear on. It seemed somewhat redundant now, given the number of people who knew who she was, but Maka still preferred not to add to the count.

"How do you know?" Harvar asked.

"I saw his soul and something's very wrong with it. I want to go see for myself."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Kilik asked.

"Is anything we decide to do wise?" Maka shrugged. "We've been one step behind this entire time; I can't stand not knowing what's going on. I, for one, want some answers, and won't stand by waiting for them to fall into my lap."

Kilik shrugged, a faint smile playing on his face. "I can't argue with that. Do you need anyone else?"

"Soul and I will go. We won't be far."

"Keep an eye on our axels, and us if you can manage it. And let the others know what's going on," Soul ordered, tightening the straps on his gloves.

"Will do," Kilik said. "You get us those answers."

Maka nodded sharply and turned back to the crowd gathered behind her at the finish. The figure in black was still by the alley, but as she watched, he turned abruptly and slipped into the shadows.

"Over there!" Maka pointed as she pushed her way into the crowd, squeezing through what gaps she could and throwing elbows when there were none. Soul followed in her wake and soon they popped out onto the sidewalk and crept over to the alley.

Soul's hand on her elbow stopped Maka in her tracks. "Have to be careful," he murmured in her ear. "Startle him and we lose our lead."

"Would you rather we stay here and let him escape?" Maka shot back. She ignored his hissed protest behind her and darted into the passage, Soul hot on her heels.

The alley was narrow, cracked and stained brick rising up on either side of them. The ground beneath Maka's feet was rough and uneven, but her balance remained steady even as she skidded to a halt before the cloaked figure. They had whirled around to meet them, hood falling back to reveal a gaunt face topped with wispy pink hair. Startlingly pale periwinkle eyes bored into hers, equal parts frantic and… almost resigned.

But the person couldn't have been older than her, Maka thought. Judging from the way the fabric hung off their skinny frame, they were malnourished as well. Surely she'd made a mistake; a child as young and neglected as they were couldn't work for Arachne.

A quick check with soul perception told her that no, she hadn't. Her watcher's soul was a sickly purple, but not in the way the spider's had looked. This wasn't blue and red fighting separately, this was an equal blending of color spread throughout a misshapen, cowering soul.

What has she done to you?

The person - Maka couldn't tell whether they were male or female - began to mumble to themselves. "Not supposed to be seen. Watch only. Can't take. Not strong enough. Only a watcher."

"What the devil are they saying?" Soul said quietly, coming up beside her. He curled his fingers around her arm cautiously.

"I've no idea," Maka answered, mystified. His fingers were warm through the cloth of her shirtsleeve, and some part of Maka's mind knew it was improper for him to touch her so freely.

But you've long since crossed that line, haven't you? a part of her needled. Maka shoved the thought away; he was only this close because of the watcher in front of her. Soul was simply keeping on guard, ready to pull her away should tensions grow too high.

Meanwhile, the figure continued to mumble on as they watched Maka warily. "She pushes. Can't push. Only pull. Want to push. Can't push. I pull. She pushes. Wanted him to push. Couldn't. Want her to push. Can she? Need to take her. Can't take her. I watch."

"Whatever they're saying, I don't like the sound of it," Soul said, hand tightening in anxiety.

Maka pried him off gently. "They haven't done anything yet." Besides, there was something about them that drew her in, that made her lower her defenses in a way that spider hadn't. Perhaps it was the fact that this was a living person, or maybe it was the distress in their eyes. Maka felt for them suddenly, and knew that she had to help them, whatever it took.

"Doesn't mean they won't," Soul said quietly. But he didn't try to pull her back again, only remained close by her side.

"Are you alright?" Maka asked softly, one hand outstretched much like the way one would do for a wild animal. "Do you need help? I could try-"

The watcher shied away, hands held out to ward Maka off. "Not supposed to see," they said frantically. "Had to be quiet. Why's she here? Can't see me. Could take her. Can't take her. He's here. Don't know what to do. Don't know how to deal with this."

"Why don't you let me help?"

"Says I don't need help. I'm better. I'm stronger. Can almost do it. But can't. Need her."

The longer they spoke, the more the person's soul went wild. It flashed and pulsed to an unseen rhythm, twisting and folding in on itself in a way Maka had never seen before. They were working themselves into a frenzy with every word they said, and suddenly Maka saw a very dangerous potential in them.

"Maka," Soul said insistently. "I know you want to help, but now might not be the best time."

"What am I supposed to do, Soul-"

"Maka, look out-!"

But the figure wasn't springing forward, merely shrinking back. In the blink of an eye they had darted away through the alley, slipping between the shadows and no doubt slinking back to their master.

"That was terribly unhelpful," Soul muttered darkly, scowling into the gloom where Maka's watcher had disappeared.

"Perhaps not," she said slowly, rubbing her chin in thought. "What they said… it didn't make much sense to us, but perhaps if we all put our heads together we can piece something out of it."

"If you say so," Soul shrugged. With another glance around the alley he stepped aside to allow her exit, and they quickly rejoined their teammates behind the finish.

"You didn't lose him, did you?" Black*Star asked in disbelief, squinting at them as though they'd tucked the boy somewhere within their gear. "You should have waited for me, I could have knocked him flat in a second!"

"Calm down Black*Star, we only spoke to them," Maka said.

"If you could call it that," Soul added unhelpfully.

"They said some… bizarre things we can't interpret," Maka explained, nudging Soul in the ribs.

"So this person just talked at you and left?" Jackie asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, they more mumbled it, but essentially, yes."

"Are you sure they work for Arachne and hadn't just escaped Bedlam?"

"I'm sure," Maka said firmly. "Their soul… it's been tampered with. It might have something to do with the way they acted, but we can't even start to consider the possibilities until we get back to the warehouse."

"Alright then, princess," Black*Star said, his grin just a little too smug - though really, any grin of his could be considered smug.

"Do not call me that." She scowled darkly at her friend, but Black*Star merely cackled and roared off, leaving the others to follow him back.

Sid and Nygus were waiting in the center of the common room as they pulled in. "Anything to report?" Sid asked once the garage door had shut. He looked to Maka as he said this, and despite her reluctance to make all the decisions, some part of her thrilled at having been recognized as the leader here.

"Arachne did send someone, but it was an… unusual encounter."

"How so?" Mira asked, brow knit in confusion.

"They spouted off nonsense then scarpered," Soul cut in, pulling his gloves off as he dismounted his axel.

"Their soul was wrong," Maka said, taking back the conversation. "That's why they were acting abnormal."

"What did they say?" Sid asked.

"Something about being able to pull, but not push. They also said they were only supposed to watch, but it was mostly the pushing and pulling."

"Arachne needs Maka for her soul, right?" Kim asked. "Could it have something to do with that?"

"It might," Maka said slowly, gaze far away as she thought about it. Arachne was performing experiments on souls; the spider was evidence of that. Perhaps she had progressed to human souls? That would explain the damage Maka had seen. She remembered the feeling of the soul in her hand, the colors warring back and forth, the thread-like tether tying the soul to its metal shell… and suddenly, in a burst of clarity, she found her answer. "That's it!"

The low buzz of speculation quieted at her outburst. "You figured it out?" Soul looked unsurprised.

"Maybe. But it all comes down to the soul, doesn't it? Pushing, pulling… perhaps it's all to do with moving souls."

"They said they could pull, but they could not push. You think they have some part of your ability? Tsubaki asked, eyebrows drawn in concern.

"What if Arachne's been trying to artificially create her own Grigori soul? It would certainly save her the trouble of trying to take me."

"This person… they're the result, aren't they?" Kilik said grimly. "But you think they can't do all that you can?"

"They said they could only pull, and I think they meant they could only pull souls. That would mean they have a partial Grigori soul, but that wouldn't be good enough for Arachne. That is why she needs me; I can push them as well."

"But why would she need to push? Pulling souls sounds terrible enough." Kim shuddered at the thought.

"Someone had to put the soul in the spider, though, didn't they?" Ox said, catching on. "Wouldn't that be 'pushing' a soul, as you say?"

Maka pointed triumphantly at Ox. "Exactly. That person can take souls, but can't do anything with them. Arachne needs me to do that."

"And since it doesn't sound like she's close to succeeding with her own experiments, it appears that you are at more risk than we previously believed," Nygus said.

"It might be wise to keep you in the warehouse until we can deal with this situation," Sid said. "I was a cautious man before, and I have no plans to change that."

"No," Maka said stubbornly.

Soul gave her a look. "I know you want to race-"

"This has nothing to do with that," Maka insisted. "I told you before, if it's too difficult for Arachne to get at me, she'll start looking for other Grigori souls! Who knows what they know, or how well protected they are? This isn't about me, it's about what might happen if Arachne gets what she wants. I am tired of sitting around waiting for her to make the next move; I say we stand up and take the fight to her!"

"Yes!" Black*Star cried. "Finally, a plan with sense!"

"Oh yes, your support makes it sound completely foolproof," Jackie said in a deadpan.

"What are you proposing?" Ox asked skeptically. "We barge into her lair waving sticks around and demand that she stop at once?"

"I'd think it would be something more than sticks," Maka replied. Soul nearly choked on his own saliva so she hastened to add, "But no, that wasn't what I was suggesting."

"Then please, enlighten me."

"I want to speak with her face to face, to confront her in a public place where she can't come after me."

"I was lying about the others," Soul said with a pained look on his face. "That is the worst idea you've had."

Maka ignored him. "I'm being serious. I need to show her that I'm not afraid, that she can't frighten me."

"While I appreciate the sentiment," Ox drawled, "is there an alternative where we don't do that?"

"Maka may be right about this," Sid said slowly. "When I was a man, I would come across individuals like Arachne, and they don't just disappear. Sometimes it's better to take the offensive than to sit around and wait for retaliation."

"A public event would be best suited," Nygus mused, tapping one finger on her bandaged mouth. "Someplace we know Arachne will be, and somewhere we're also welcome."

"Oh, well, that's easy then, isn't it?" Kim said. Some met her with blank looks. "Honestly, you lot, I've only been talking about it for months! The League Ball? I know Arachne isn't a direct sponsor, but there's no way she has her fingers in that many pies and she doesn't attend."

Maka, who had not paid much attention to Kim whenever she brought up the ball, nodded. "That does sound ideal. When does it take place?"

Kim rolled her eyes. "Are you joking? It's in three days and none of you were aware of this?"

"To be fair, you can be long-winded when it comes to social affairs," Jackie pointed out, a teasing smile on her lips.

Kim pinked and elbowed her partner. "I don't recall asking you."

"I'm sure Lord Death would be more than happy to provide the proper attire for the event, after I inform him of this. Everything is pending his approval, you understand, but I can't see him disagreeing," Sid said. "I'll also let Stein know of this change in plans. If he has anything else to say regarding what Arachne's agent said, I will pass that along." Sid and Mira broke from the group, the latter crossing the room into the office, the former disappearing into the back hallway.

Excited chatter filled the common room as Spartoi began to discuss the upcoming ball. Kim looked absolutely ecstatic, while Jackie just smiled and shook her head at her partner's enthusiasm. Ox looked none too thrilled and Harvar spoke quietly to him, though whether to sympathise or persuade him otherwise, no one could tell. Kilik joked with Black*Star and Tsubaki, and Soul once again leaned in towards Maka. "You believe this is the best course of action?"

"I think so," Maka answered honestly, "but I'm not entirely sure."

"That is not encouraging," Soul groaned. "Here I was hoping to avoid this whole event altogether."

"A party thrown in the leagues' honor and you'd rather not attend?"

Soul shuddered. "Absolutely not. The true focus is the sponsors; it's when they get to rub elbows with their peers and show off their success. They don't give a damn about us."

"Surely it can't be as awful as you say. You have your friends, after all. And you'll have me!" Her eyes widened at the implication. Surely she hadn't just said that… had she?"

Soul's eyebrows shot up and his lips twitched. "Why, Ms. Albarn, are you offering to accompany me to the ball? I was under the assumption the man asked the woman."

"I am your partner," she spluttered. "I only thought…"

"It would be my honor to escort you," he said, but his devious smirk belied his words.

"You are insufferable!"

"And yet you asked me to the ball. Unless you didn't mean…" The teasing left his face suddenly and he looked more vulnerable than she'd anticipated.

What did she mean by bringing it up? Why had she separated herself from the others? Yes, she was his partner, but this felt different. This felt… right.

"No," she said, her voice sounding squeakier than she'd hoped for. "I did mean it. I'll need someone to look out for me, won't I? After all, you seem so enthusiastic in pointing that out at every opportunity."

He looked down and rubbed the back of his neck, but when he looked up, there was something she couldn't quite read in his eyes. "Very well, Ms. Albarn. I hope you own something red." He gave her another slow-curling smile, sending a tingle like lightning up her spine.

Black*Star burst into the conversation then, talking loudly of ballroom layouts and infiltration plans as he drew Soul's attention. As Tsubaki settled herself by Maka's side and asked what they had been talking of, Maka could not help the flush that spread across her face and neck.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Glossary of Terms:

Bedlam: a famous insane asylum residing in London