I apologize it took so long and that after all that wait this isn't longer! I felt the need to post, and this is what I made. I should start writing more ofter after another two weeks.

Soul's crimson eyes rolled open at the sound of yet another groan set directly in his ear. He had been so comfortably off in his own 'lala' land that he had no idea exactly how long he had remained in this position – essentially holding his partner captive. Staring into the ashy blond abyss for a single blissful moment longer, Soul groaned himself as he moved to push his body upward. It was dizzying how quickly his head spun as if he had hopped up into a stand after hanging upside down, blood rushing away from his head uncomfortably fast.

Next to him, his partner paused her squirming to grab her head and attempt pushing herself up into a sit as well. A simple sideways glance told him that she was having trouble finding the strength in her arms – though he couldn't perceive how anyone could be so weak that they couldn't lift Maka Albarn. Even a child could lift her featherweight body. It was wonder how she ever lifted a scythe like him. He was not about to admit that, though. No, he liked teasing her too much. She would never admit it, but deep down she liked it too. Granted, some of his mocking did need to be kicked back a notch. She took some things too seriously.

Absently, Soul tugged Maka's struggling arm toward him gently in order to help her sit up. She did not accept the help graciously, though. As soon as he had her sitting up straight, she shook off his hand and grunted in protest.

"I'm fine," she complained breathlessly. On one hand she did not seem very 'fine', but on the other... She did seem to be recovering rather quickly – possibly wholly due to her determination. He could see it now. The moment she was able to stand without help she would be demanding to make a move. As much as that girl liked to just sit around and read for countless hours out of a day, take a book out of the equation and she was restless.

Just as he predicted, Maka's feet touched the floor, her legs straightened, she swayed for a short moment, and then her gaze turned to the door.

"Let's go." That was all that she said and all that was necessary to be said.

Typical Maka. Of course she would not take a moment to discuss what just happened. Understanding all the details did not seem relevant unless she was taking an exam. Outside of school and in, though, all that mattered was winning, and now she felt like she had taken a hard blow. Her offender was ahead of her, but it was not going to stay that way.

Naturally, Soul smoothly slid off of the bed and moved to his partner's side. As much as he wanted to advise her to slow down and examine the situation before diving in, he knew all too well that it was not yet the moment. She was more likely to magically procure a book out of thin air to create a new dent in his skull than to listen to him now.

Without a word, Maka held out her hand expectantly. Compliantly, Soul shoved one hand into his front pocket then gave his other over to her control. In the instant he felt her small hand squeeze at his own, he transformed – becoming the extension of her fury.

Maka was angry.

No, infuriated was more appropriate.

She was still unsure about the full scale of what had just occurred and honestly she did not even want to think about it. She wanted the poisonous thoughts gone. She wanted that poisonous witch gone. To think that the snake of a witch slithered into her mind and tried eating up her precious memories. Then, when that was failing, she tried taking Maka's sanity instead. Soul came to the rescue... He invaded her mind with much more selfless intentions. He warded off the witch by helping her retreat to her fantasies with... Wait...

No, no, no, no. Don't think about it! There is no way he could have possibly seen all of it. Witnessing her memory of that single book was nothing. Their friendship could not possibly be compromised.

Really, Soul felt even more comfortable than ever between her fingers. In fact, it truly felt as if he was reaching out and holding onto her rather than the other way around. He felt so light. She felt like they could take anything on at this point, despite her fury.

Maka straightened her expressions and looked around as she walked. She was desperately searching for some sign of an abnormal soul. All that she felt through half the town were those of the human townsfolk nestled away in the corners of their houses. As she stomped right past the inhabited portion of the town into the vacant, Maka's expressions grew livid once again.

"She has to be out here," an all-too-welcome voice echoed in her ear. "She must be the reason the villagers are avoiding this side of town."

Her grip tightened around the scythe's shaft. "Yeah..."

"Maybe...she lives over here. We can start by—"

"Checking houses," she finished, anxious for him to stop talking. It was impossible to maintain her furious focus when his very voice made her skin tingle. It felt like invisible fingers tickling their way gently up her arms and the back of her neck. Why did everything about him have to be so god damned beautiful? Please let him fall back into a compliant silence like before. Please.

As if an answer to her prayers, Soul waited patiently and soundlessly as Maka began touring from one window to the next. It was all so eerily quiet. Unnaturally calm. Ordinarily a silence such as this, where not even birds or locusts were audible, would seem comfortable, but not this. This was disturbing – it was an eerie sensation creeping up her spine one vertebra at a time. Soul's silence enabled the invisible hands that had been tickling her flesh affectionately to switch to tickling her spine creepily and threatening to yank out her twisted stomach at any moment.

Even still... as creepy as it was, nothing was happening. Her stomach remained intact and the witch was nowhere to be seen. The more time that passed, the more Maka was becoming irritated.

Well, more irritated than before...

"Aaagh," she finally growled, after a full hour of searching and building up her anger. "What the HELL?!" Her shout echoed loudly through the emptiness until it was finally swallowed up.

"Maka, I—"

"WHAT, Soul? Do you have any new bright ideas? Your last one got us SO far..." The potentially hurtful words echoed, amplifying her irrational attack at her partner.

In that moment, Soul fell silent once more. Disregard any mention of discomfort derived from silence mentioned before, for this was far worse. Maka's heart sank a little as she thought over what she said. She was angry, yes, but she was not upset with him... Thankfully, she did not feel the scythe's weight gain underneath her fingertips. As horrible as she was at reading and matching his soul-wavelength, he seemed to be an expert at hers by now. Still, it made her feel none the better – especially once she noticed her weapon beginning to transform. It felt almost as if he was denying her the ability to wield him.

Caving due to guilt, Maka's grip loosened to free the scythe that was becoming a man and averted her eyes. It was both annoying and heart-lifting when the newly formed Soul reached out and took her hand in his. Why did he have to be so damned understanding?

Verdant green eyes looked up into his own blood-red depths as he squeezed her hand for attention. "We'll find her. One way or another."

Just like that, he began walking down the street, fingers intertwined with hers, peeking through windows and around corners.

Soul could only stay silent for so long. Even when Maka was silent, he could sense that she was just overflowing with the desire to scream. It was simple. She wanted not only to finally attain the final soul necessary to make him a Death Scythe, but also to punish the witch for getting in her head. She was predictable like that. What Soul might not have predicted before tonight was that what was making her the angriest was the simple fact that the witch tried toying with her memories of him. Maka, sweet Maka, was so desperate to hold on to those memories, as if someday soon that would be all she had of him. Why she thought that, Soul didn't understand. Having been distracted by the overwhelming sensation of her desire for him kept him from exploring this other strange emotion of hers he did not comprehend. So, he knew virtually everything about how her mind worked.

So, after her outburst, Soul thought it would be best to walk with her, despite the dangers of the weapon not being at the ready. After he transformed, his partner looked away from him, trying desperately to hide the hurt she had dealt upon herself from her expressions. If he could have gotten away with kissing her instead of simply holding her hand, he would have. Unfortunately, Soul was all too aware of Maka's aversion to relationships, despite her feelings for him and especially because of their current relationship. She would sooner suffer alone than cast awkwardness upon their friendship by being denied or even worse...possibly (or Maka's words 'inevitably') betrayed. He wanted her to have faith in him, but jumping right into it was not the way for her Highness Grumpypants.

It was only after they passed a couple of houses that Maka finally seemed to warm up to the idea that Soul was now leading her through the town rather than the other way around. She began walking at his side rather than a step behind and actively looking around once more.

Soul liked to think that it was the graces if his cool presence that kept Maka calm for the following twenty minutes, but that seemed to be her limit. Suddenly, she stopped dead in her tracks and retracted her hand from his to fold her arms across her chest.

"This is getting us nowhere," she complained irritably.

Sighing heavily, Soul turned to face his partner in order to attempt calming her down.

Only...she wasn't there.