7th month...

Soul was sitting on the couch of Maka's living room, waiting for her to cook dinner she invited him to. He was flipping through channels and there seemed to be a lot about piano concerts. He rolled his eyes and switched off the TV. He stole a glance at Maka, only to find her staring right at him. This startled Soul.

"What?"

She shook her head and went back to making soup.

"Nothing."

He stood up and walked to the kitchen.

"Is it almost done?"

"Yeah," She stirred the soup. "Why did you stop watching TV?"

"Nothing good was on." He responded truthfully.

"...Get the bowls out."

He obeyed her order and set them on the table. She served the noodle soup carefully. They were sitting across from each other, enjoying their dinner. They talked about life because the topic popped up in Soul's mind.

"So Maka, you live alone?"

"Yeah, what about you?"

"Same here." He finished his food in ten minutes. On his way to the sink he grabbed Maka's empty bowl and washed it. As he finished, he was going to ask her more questions and Maka was going to sit down, but the doorbell rang.

"I'm sure I didn't invite anyone else..." Maka said as she walked toward the door. Soul wandered into the halls. As she opened the door, she was staring at the face of someone she really didn't want to see. She despised the person in front of her. But, she had to respect him, even though she was scared.

"Papa..."

Soul whipped his head around in the direction of her father, but not so they could see.

Papa?

"Dad, w-what are you doing here?" She fiddled with her fingers and looked down. Her dad stared down at her with disgust.

"Is that any way to greet your father?" He pushed past her and into the house. "A simple 'hello' would've been nice."

She followed him into the living room. Maka noticed Soul peeking from the wall of the hallway and gave her questionable look. In return, she made a terrified one. She showed him that she didn't want him anywhere near her dad.

"Maka." Spirit called. She walked to her father.

"Yes?"

"Where's my stuff?"

She tilted her head.

"Stuff?"

He rolled his eyes and shifted on the couch.

"My things I told you to keep safe while I left. I want them now."

"But papa, you never told me to keep anything of yours. And...you never told me you were coming back..."

"Maka," He laughed. "Stop joking. Give them to me, now."

She became scared.

"I-You-Uh-"

Spirit stood up and Maka jumped.

"Okay, okay!" She ran off into the hallway, past Soul. He looked at her as she ran past him, his hair swaying with the wind as she dashed.

What's going on?

He stared at Maka's dad.

Crap! This isn't good! I didn't know he'd come back! He didn't say anything! What do I do?!

Maka rummaged through her stuff and wrecked her room. She couldn't find anything of his. She didn't even know what he wanted. She rushed to the closet and searched there. Nothing. She ran to the storage room and practically broke the place. She searched everywhere and nothing of her father's was anywhere. She remembered throwing away his stuff after he left, but it was long gone. Spirit was seven months too late.

A huge wave of fear overtook Maka. She stumbled back to her dad and waited for anything that was coming to her. They stood in front of each other; Maka looking down and her father straight at his daughter's face. He examined it. When it finally came to him, he lifted his fist up. Maka stiffened up and shut her eyelids. Soul became wide-eyed. In about a second, the young teenage girl had a bleeding cheek bone. Soul just stared, processing what had just happened. His emotions were mixed. Maka glanced at him for a millisecond, then at the bathroom. He knew what she was trying to tell him.

Get out of here. Now! There's a window in the bathroom and you can escape there. Go!

Spirit grabbed Maka's face. Her body was trembling and he smirked.

"You never learn, do you?"

He aimed his fist toward her stomach and all the air was punched out of her. Soul's eyebrows narrowed. She fell on the floor and coughed up blood. A lot of it splattered on the hard wood floor. Spirit picked her up by the neck and she struggled to get out.

"I'm not finished yet." He whispered. Then he glanced up and noticed something—or someone, before his face turned to the right against his will. Maka collapsed but quickly got up, gasping for breath. Soul was right in front her, fists clenched, teeth gritted, eyes filled with hatred, determination, anger, and pain; and he was facing her father full on. She grabbed his hand but he harshly pulled away.

"So, you're Maka's father?"

"What of it?" Spirit glared at him and touched his bruised eye.

"You sure are a sorry excuse for one."

"You can't talk to me like that!"

"You're not my father. You don't even deserve respect!"

"Maka, why is he here? You do realize there's a boy in your house? What did I tell you about boys coming over?"

He got no response.

"Hey, why are you here anyway?" Soul asked.

"I should be asking you that. You're not allowed here. "

"Answer my question, old man."

"Rebel, huh? I can fix that."

He charged at Soul and was going to punch to his shoulder. Soul dodged it and kicked his chin. Spirit fell back.

"What the hell?"

"Papa! Stop! You can't hurt him!"

"Why not?"

"Why the hell do you think?" Soul asked. "Maka, I need you to go. This could be dangerous. Actually, it will be. I don't want you to get hurt—unlike your fail of a father over here."

"No! You stop too! He could really hurt you!"

"I can hurt him back, don't worry. I'll be fine." Soul have her a toothy grin.

Tears welled up in Maka's eyes. "Be careful..." She ran to the door and slammed it shut once she escaped.

Maka woke up, gasping for air.

What a nightmare! My dad came back to life. I wouldn't be able to bear watching Soul get hurt, but I would never leave him there with my father alone! What a scary and dumb dream.