Note: Soul Eater and it's wonderful characters do not belong to me, those rights belong to Atsushi Okubo. This is rated T for language, and some vaguely inappropriate comments/thoughts. This takes place post anime, and was a prompt fill from tumblr. If interested, please enjoy!

"Train me."

"What?"

"You heard me Soul, you're the best weapon I know, not to mention my partner and a scythe as well. I need your help with learning how to control this and use it to my advantage during battle. It would be illogical to let this go to waste." Her arms cross over her chest, stance and expression screaming her determination. Soul knows that even if he says no, she'll figure it out anyway, possibly injuring herself in the process. So really, in the end, she's left him no choice.

"Fine. I'll train you," he grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He feels dread well up in his gut. Maka has every right to get stronger. She's an incredible being, a force of fucking nature and she has all his respect. It's just…

He's her weapon.

If she's a weapon as well as a meister.. and she can wield herself, then..

He shakes the thoughts away, disguising the action by pretending to shake his bed hair into something more acceptable. When he looks at her, she's grinning, hopping from foot to foot excitedly, and while he may be less than pleased with the present situation, he has to admit she looks pretty fuckin' cute. But, being ever so smooth, what he tells her instead is,

"You look like you really need to piss, are you alright?"

In .05 seconds he's doubled over, clutching his stomach where she has her fist lodged and coughing like he smokes three packs a day. She's got a hand on his shoulder, patting in a comforting manner, at odds with her smug grin and fist in his abdomen.

"I feel much better now, thanks. Now let's go train!" And she's off, dragging his hunched over figure beside her, clutching one of his hands in hers, taking no notice of the way he stumbles the first ten feet to their destination. She slows her pace just a bit, and he rights himself, still grumbling and rubbing at his sore stomach. He can tell she held back. A LOT. But shit, for such a tiny girl she sure packs a punch.

He guesses he should have been well aware of that, ya know, after seeing her beat the god of chaos with a sock to the jaw, but he can be an idiot sometimes…

The training fields are really just a thick forest with a few large clearings interspersed within. Nobody is ever really there on Sundays, which Soul is pretty damn happy about.

Maka picks a wide clearing with a few thick trees right along it's border. She tugs him to the center and lets go of his hand, turns to face him, staring at him expectantly.

"What?"

"What do you mean,'what?'? Teach me something!"

"Jeez Maka, chill. Alright, so.. basic. Transform your right arm for me."

"R-right."

She scrunches up her face in concentration, arm spread out to the side of her, fists clenched. She stays that way for about half a minute before wilting, huffing in aggravation and staring angrily at her feet. Soul feels for her. It was months before he could properly transform a limb without causing himself a great deal of irritation and grief.

"Maka…"

"I'm a fucking failure." The words hit him harder than her fist had earlier, and it takes a lot to keep from stumbling. The fact that trying once and not succeeding makes her feel like an outright failure is alarming. She's usually the most determined person he knows, she never gives up, not for cracked ribs or third degree burns, and especially not for one unsuccessful attempt at transformation. He needs to give her his full support on this, no matter how much it hurts.

So, all his nagging feelings of inadequacy, and his aching wounded pride, and the all encompassing feeling of uselessness, he takes them all and shoves them into the deepest recesses of his soul. He doesn't need any of that popping up and distracting her when they try this.

"Here." He offers an outstretched hand, and she eyes it curiously, looking at him questioningly but grasping his hand all the same. "It's uh.. easier for me to transform when we resonate. So, if you wanna try that first we can. Just really focus on the idea of it, you know? Like your flesh warping into a blade. I dunno how to explain it really but maybe it'll help. Want to try again?"

He offers her a small reassuring smile, and she nods. Tightening her grip on his hand, she closes her eyes once more and lets the tendrils of her soul spider out and latch onto his, a casual, comfortable resonance. It isn't the kind they'd use in battle, not by a long shot, but the strength of their bond is still substantial enough for him to catch her distress leaking through. He calms himself as much as possible, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. A little flutter of confusion and pleasure creeps through their connection, but it's gone as soon as it was noticed, replaced with determination and images of flesh melded with demon steel.

A blinding flash, and she tears her left hand away from his with a delighted gasp, stroking the flat of the emerald blade that resides where her right arm once did, a look of wonderment on her face. A bittersweet smile twists Soul's lips, but when she turns her eyes on him, he grins.

"You're a natural," He tells her, and tries not to cringe. Only a matter of time now..

He has her practice until she can fully transform, isolate her transformations to specific body parts, and blunt her blade for sparring practice.

"God, that get's really tiring after a while.."

"Yeah, no shit Maka," he chuckles, sort of morbidly glad for the fact that she's getting a little bit of a taste of what life as a weapon is like. He really, really hopes that it's unpleasant enough for her to quit, as terrible as it sounds. Yes, he wants her to know how to control it. But she's his meister, and he her weapon. Pardon him for being a teensy bit uneasy, but it's been a while since he's last felt useless and he sure as hell isn't looking forward to it.

"How about a fight?" she asks enthusiastically, and his insides twist uncomfortably at the thought of turning on Maka, even in a mock spar with blunted blades and light hearts.

But he agreed to train her, and that's exactly what he'll do, because this is what his meister wants, and just who the hell is he to refuse her this right?

So they face each other in the middle of their clearing, stances wide and sturdy, right arms shifted to crude emerald and crimson demon steel. Soul crosses his blade in front of him protectively, Maka mirroring the action, crouching low, then bounding toward him, blade raised. Soul smacks her in the side with the flat of his blade and dodges. He may not want to be useless to Maka, but he sure doesn't want her to get herself killed on her own either. It's his job to protect her, even long after she has no use for him anymore..

"You can't just come barreling in like a wild woman Maka. If this were a real battle, you would have been sliced in half. This isn't a game so don't fucking play it like one. Try again." She growls audibly, her jaw clenching in frustration. She starts circling around him, dancing from one direction to another, quick but not quick enough to distract him, and when she goes in to strike his torso, he's got a blade to her throat already.

It's physically harmless, but psychologically it flips a switch inside her.

Before he's even sure of what exactly has happened, she's got him pinned to the forest floor, knees on his shoulders and blade pressing into his adam's apple. She does not smile for her victory.

"Excellent. You don't need my help anymore Maka." She hears the bitter twinge in the words all too clearly.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean Soul?" Her blade shifts to flesh, her hand resting on his throat gently, thumb tracing his jugular vein. She watches as the blood pumps through it faster and faster, pupils blown wide and interested. He closes his eyes tightly, because even after all they've been through together, he still does not posses the courage it takes to look her in the eye as he shows her his fear.

"It means exactly what I said," he pushes from between clenched teeth. "You're all that you need to succeed Maka. Be proud of that."

She's too dumbstruck to stop him as he gets out from under her, standing to brush himself off and turning to walk away. He's halfway across the clearing by the time she gathers her wits and shouts,

"Stop, you idiot!" And just as she commanded, his steps falter and cease. He tips his head toward her slightly over a shoulder, ear out for her but eyes elsewhere. She seriously can't believe him. The fucking nerve.

"You don't honestly think that you can just walk away, do you? After all that we've gone through together, how much stronger we've become, how many things we've shared, you seriously think I'm just going to let you bail? Just like that? Get over here right now or so help me Death I will chop you into next week!"

She isn't really expecting for him to get angry..

He's in her face before she knows it, eyes wild and body tense.

"Why was it so fucking important that you train, huh Maka? You already have a weapon so what's the fucking deal? If I'm not strong enough, tell me and I'll get stronger! If I'm not polite enough, I'll go take some goddamn etiquette classes if that's what you want! Why do you need to be a weapon if I already exist? Why the fuck do you want to be a human shield?! That's my job! I like my job! It makes me feel useful, like maybe there's a reason why I exist and then you just go and throw a wrench in the gears, like you training to be a weapon is no big deal. Well It's a big deal okay? Just…" his steam running out, he mumbles," ..Why?"

It's a long time before she answers, and he's ready to just go crawl under a rock and try to forget, but then she tells him.

"That last battle.. the one with Asura.. I watched as all the people I cared about got beaten half to death. You.. you took the hit for me. And then I was alone… I'd never been more terrified in my entire life. I couldn't do anything to help, couldn't protect you if I tried.. I thought all of us were going to die. I thought that I would have to watch you die, Soul. The only reason we won was because of something I couldn't even control at that point.. So.. if I can control this.. if I can fight on my own, then I can protect my weapon. I can protect you even if you're hurt.. That's why this is so important. I need to get better at this so I don't lose you.."

And he feels like such an fucking idiot.

Because her reasons for wanting to get stronger are exactly the same as his own, and he couldn't see it because he was hindered by his insecurities. How lame..

"I.. shit. I'm sorry.. for being such a jackass about this.. I mean.. I don't want you to get hurt protecting me…So leave the human shield thing up to me, okay?… I really should have known you'd have such a noble reason for this, ya nerd.. Thanks. You know you're the best meister a guy could ever ask for, right?" He smiles softly at the gentle blush that creeps across her cheeks and nose, grabbing her right hand and squeezing lightly.

"Yeah. I know," she snarks, and he scowls at her a little bit until she continues,

"You're the best partner i could ever dream of."

And she hugs him.

Because while he may be of incredibly strong steel and sharp edges…

He's also just a boy, made of skin that tears and bruised ego, who doesn't know just how wonderful he really is, but she'll do her best to make him understand.

The next time they train, they learn from each other.

Because they are partners, neither superior, always growing as a unit.