Chapter Two:

When A Good Man Goes To War

The scariest thing about coffee was that it was just as feisty as a human being.

Soul had learned that lesson the hard way after he had been hired at a tiny little coffee shop a couple years ago. He had been looking for a job, any job, and had at first scoffed at the idea of being a barista. Even Wes hadn't seemed too against the idea of finding a different job; they just didn't really see him as a "Starbucks Bitch" in the younger Evans' own colorful words. However, after a few months, they had both been shocked to find out that Soul was practically a coffee God.

It was working at this place that Soul had met Black*Star. An extreme case of walking narcissism, the blued haired boy with the star tattoo on his shoulder has quickly made friends with the scowling albino. Black*Star, who never offered a last name, slowly became a permanent fixture in Soul's life, and it just so happened to be that idiot who had encouraged Soul to try tagging. And because Soul could justify Black*Star getting him into the game, he could justify bitching about it to him too.

Recent showdown with Angel still in his mind, Soul wasn't in the best mood as she slammed a lid on the drink he'd just finished, and called it the long complicated name, watching as some girl he was pretty sure he went to school with skipped over to get her drink, and shot him a wink over the lid. He grinned back, and gave her a glance over as she walked back to her seat until Black*Star snorted at his side. Soul glanced over at his friend, scowl taking its rightful place on his face. "What?"

"Your problem isn't this Angel; your problem is you need to get laid."

"Oh, fuck you."

"No, fuck her."

"Shut up, getting laid isn't my problem." The white haired boy hissed between his peculiar teeth, and adjusted the beanie on his head, surveying the shop to make sure that there wasn't a straggler down by the resister. "My problem is a snotty little crayon artists who thinks she can doodle wherever she wants."

"How do you know Angel is a girl?"

"You didn't see these fucking flowers, it was a girl dude. Swear."

"Oh, cuz you've never met a single person who, if they decided to start tagging, they wouldn't draw flowers or wings?" Black*Star goaded, enjoying the sick look on Soul's face as the white haired boy considered that option. "Like…say Crona started tagging…what do you think he would do?"

Soul was spared from answering by a pretty girl with short, choppy pink hair. She was playing with her many rings, eye scanning the handwritten menu above the boy's heads and met Soul's eyes with a smile. The smile fell a little when it wasn't Soul who went to take her order, but Tsubaki; the tall Asian girl that worked with him and Black*Star. She had kind blue eyes, long black hair, and a chest that every single human who walked through the door deemed impressive. Soul liked her because she was nice, but worried about her judge of character.

She'd shacked up with Black*Star after all.

Tsubaki smiled as the pink haired girl explained her order, still tugging on her rings. The pretty coworker looked over at Soul and Black*Star and requested a Soy Hazelnut Latte. "You wanna take care of that, Buffed by an Angel?"

Soul growled at his friend, before turning back towards the machine. "Don't talk about her like she actually is an Angel. The freakin' bitch is some Crayola loving child, and she got taken down like one." He prepped the espresso and shoved it into the machine before pouring the hazelnut syrup directly into the cup, freaking frou frou drinks, and seriously soy? He rolled his eyes and grabbed the soy pitcher and soy milk while the machine began to pull the double shot. "Not to fucking mention the fact that no one touched that piece for the last two years. So this little Angel is a newbie. But, yeah, her tag is new, or their tag is new…fuck I just don't think it's a guy." Soul muttered, more to himself than anyone else, pouring the milk and shoving it under the steam wand. "Just some respect, please. I don't ask for much. Whoever this fucker is.." The espresso finished just as the microfoam became velvety, he swirled it before grabbing the cup, pouring it in and topping it off with a nice layer of foam. "I just want to know that fucking bastard saw me take them out." He had it ready in about two minute

"Dude, you're doing that self-explanation thing again." Black*Star intoned, and from the worried look on Tsubaki's face, he must have looked a little insane there for a second. Soul let out a deep breath, and shook his head.

"Sorry."

"Ah, you know you're fine." Black*Star shook his head, before tossing a couple coffee beans in his mouth and biting down. Tsubaki made a face, and Soul inwardly gagged.

"God, you know that's going to kill you someday right?"

"Hey, gotta stay active. Unlike you, I am actually getting laid."

Soul looked past his brightly colored friend to his female coworker. "You really could do better."

"WHAT!? I'M A GREAT CATCH, I'M AWESOME! MY NAME IS ALL OVER THIS TOWN!"

"Your name is painted in between real art." Soul shot back, and Black*Star stared at him with a blank face. Saying nothing, the blue haired boy pushed past Soul and Tsubaki. He was gone for a moment, before the music in the coffee shop changed, and Soul felt the headache that came with just the first thirty seconds of this fucking song.

"Fuck, I take it back!" Soul yelled to the back of the shop, where Black*Star had to be messing with the music. "Just, please, no more Imagine Dragons."

Black*Star turned the music up louder.

Wes was just as passive aggressive as his brother.

When the younger Evans brother had gotten back to the apartment, silence dominating over their small home, he realized two things. One: his brother wasn't back from work yet, so there must be a meeting which left him on his own for dinner. And two: his backpack was out on the couch, which meant revenge had been taken for the street sign. Upon closer inspection, Soul's theory was confirmed when he noticed his can of Royal Red spray paint was gone.

That fucker.

Soul pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to his brother. You seriously stole my paint?

Yup.

You're a child.

Turnabouts fair play, Little Brother.

With a sigh wasted on his lack of audience, Soul glanced over at the clock on the ancient oven in the apartment, the time in neon green numbers told him he had an hour before his late class, which gave him just enough time to restock, and get to class.

To Sid's then.

A few miles from Soul's apartment, Sid and Mira Barett owned an art supply store. It was a small mom and pop shop, struggling amidst the dangers of big chain paint stores, but they were the only store he found that ever had his color constantly in stock. If it weren't for that, he'd avoid the place like the plague. Picking up his pace for the last couple miles, long legs helping make up for the time he wasted, he found himself outside of the old beaten down art store. He pushed open the door, and the high pitched bell alerted the tall man at the counter that he'd walked in.

Sid Barett was one of two people Soul knew that were taller than him. Standing at six foot three when he wasn't slouching, Soul was usually the outlier when it came to height. He even had Wes beat by a solid inch, something that bothered his older brother to no end. Sid had Soul beat by half an inch, which took some of the intimidation from the younger boy. Not that he'd ever had much intimidation here to begin with, Mira had taken one look at him two years ago, told him to "sit his butt down, you look like you're about to keel over" and since then, he hadn't actually been able to make the two owners stop parenting him.

Although, hard pressed to admit it, Soul never really minded.

"Well! Royal Red! What're you doing here? You shouldn't be out of paint for a while yet." Sid's wide smile broke across his face, brown eyes shining the same tone as his skin.

"Eh, hit a sign. Guess it really pissed Wes off."

"Isn't that why you tag them?"

"Tag? Who tags?" Soul asked, smirking. "I just happen to have a shit ton of art projects to do."

"Yeah, yeah." Sid rolled his eyes. "So, what's your poison?"

"Awh, same as always." Soul shrugged, leaning against the counter. Sid nodded and looked over his shoulder.

"Hey Mira! The Royal Red come in yet!?"

"Oh, is Soul here?" Mira's voice called from the back of the shop, her voice loud despite how far away she was.

"Hey Mira!" Soul called back behind Sid, and she returned his greeting, the sound of boxes shuffling told him that she was searching for his regular order. Soul was a stickler about his paint. Montana brand was his preferred medium, and he was a little bitch about making sure he got the right kind. Of all the places he'd looked for, Sid and Mira were the only ones who constantly had it stocked, and although they bitched about it they were also the only ones who would make sure the Royal Red color was in stock, even if he was pretty much the only person to buy it.

"So, just the red for you today?" Sid questioned, and Soul sighed, looking over his shoulder at the display of paint, separated by every shade. He pushed off from the counter, and looked over at the blues, pulling down two shades, and another can of white. He deposited them down by the register, and pulled out his wallet.

"Two of the Royal Red too, if you don't mind." Soul shot his grin over the counter, and Sid lifted a dark eyebrow.

"Bit early for a restock isn't it?"

"Yeah." Soul growled as he checked the time on his phone, calculating how long he'd have before he had to get to his late class. "Well, some fucking Angel buffed up my old city piece, and I felt the need to retaliate."

"An Angel huh? Doesn't sound like you're too mad." Sid's massive grin made another showing. "Sounds more like you're impressed. Don't you know when girls pick on you, it means they like you?"

"Shut up Sid, it's not like that." Soul scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to hide the blush that was creeping over his skin. "Angel is their tag, these two fucking ridiculous wings, done up completely in marker. They're all lines…it's kind of impressive actually." Sid only nodded his understanding. Soul wasn't a fan of Angel, not even a little, but even he had to be impresses when he thought about the sheer focus it must take her, or him, or whoever the fuck Angel was to get through a piece like that.

Soul and focus were damn near strangers, and it almost blew his mind that someone could stay that dedicated to something so time consuming, and so…technical, and still walk away with enough done that art was left behind. Angel's art was good, hell he'd even say it was great, but it was so fucking technical, he wondered if Angel actually enjoyed doing it at all. There was no crazy, no risk, nothing but perfection, and couldn't imagine working the same way. He just wasn't built for it.

"But…they still buffed me, and that still pissed me off, so I went back and covered it." Soul looked down to the new blues he was buying. "Yeah, went and brought my tag back, wrote my name over her shit. Angel had to have gotten the message. Haven't heard anything in four days."

"Did you check today?" Mira joined their conversation and line of sight as she walked out of the backroom, placing two cans of Soul's color on the counter. Her face was mostly covered by the white mask she wore when she was mixing the store's personal colors in the back, but Soul could see the smile in her eyes nonetheless. He, however, felt his gut sinking with her words.

"No…why?"

"Oh just…it looks like someone's been working over that wall. Paint was still wet when I went on my jog this morning. Someone is burning the midnight oil on it."

"Fuck." Soul growled under his breath, and Mira had leaned over the counter, and brought her open palm upside his head so hard, she knocked his beanie loose. "Ow!"

"Boy, don't you use that kind of language in front of a lady."

"Sorry Mira." He hissed through his teeth, and looked down at the paint on the counter. "What's the damage?"

"52.50." Sid answered, pressing buttons into the register in front of him. Soul slid him a fifty and five, and refused the change. He told them to keep it, to start saving up for when he had brain damage from Mira's head smacks, and he came to collect. The two shopkeepers would laugh, but they would also be grateful. Every little bit helped, even if it was a few bucks from a semi-broke college kid.

"Alright, thank you." Soul smiled before shoving the paint in his backpack.

"That's not suspicious, is it?"

"Yeah, live on the edge." Soul snorted, and zipped his backpack shut. "I'll see you guys in bit, yeah?"

"Yeah!" Sid waved as Soul pushed the door open. "Make sure you come back after you and Angel collaborate!"

Soul felt a full blush cover his face, and he threw his middle finger up before he walked outside, and shook his head. He shouldered his backpack and stared towards his school. He didn't go to the same school his brother taught at. Too many white heads of hair in one place was dangerous. Wes taught at the private school on the West side of town, so he went to the cheaper, state school on the East side. A school he was going to be late to if he didn't haul ass over there.

He could feel the pounding in the back of his head start up, and he groaned. He just had to get through his class. He just had to get through his class.

Class was hell.

School was hell.

Fuck, if dropping out didn't mean getting sent right back to his fucking parents, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He just couldn't fucking handle it anymore. The classes weren't hard, and he sure as fuck wasn't stupid, but it was being able to stay focused for that long, without something to keep him there wasn't exactly his strongest point. When he pushed himself too hard, the twitching in his hands would start, and he'd know he was really close to losing it. It's because of his inability to keep his focus that he wasn't doing well in that class, and his professor was starting to call him out on it.

That pissed him off too, having the man tell him to participate. Talking was not easy for the white haired student. When he was relaxed, he could sound just like anyone else, but when he was angry, or flustered, or on the spot, or trying to focus too hard, all his words came out a stumbling mess, vowels and consonants tripping over articles and pronouns. So, Soul found it easier not to talk.

And he was in danger of failing over it.

Teeth clenched tighter, he pulled out his phone, and typed a quick message to his brother, telling him he'd be home later.

Going Angel hunting? Soul glared at the message he got back from his older brother, feeling color paint his face. For just one fucking day, he wanted a break, and he wanted Wes to just shut the fuck up.

Fuck you, I'll be back later.

Be careful.

Yeah.

He shoved his phone in his pocket, and shifted the backpack filled with newly acquired paint. Now, which sign best suited his needs? It was going to be a long night.

The opposite of war isn't peace, it's creation.

Maka pondered that thought as she moved her markers against the wall, line after line flowing from her hands as if they were predestined to be there. Fundamentally, she would agree. War is destruction, and creation is the opposite of destruction.

But, if she were to consider that, then what exactly was she doing?

With her creation, there was also destruction. Underneath her hand, she worked to cover Eater's counter-tag, and reclaim this wall as hers. She destroyed Eater's creation, causing destruction, by creating over it. She had both war and creation on this wall.

Maka sighed, and exhaled into the white mask covering her face. Yeah, maybe that philosophy final had stayed with her a little more than she thought. It had been her last final of her sophomore year of college, and that meant summer. Summer meant no father breathing down her neck, since he'd be starting his new work schedule now that he wasn't guest lecturing at her school. Summer meant freedom, and warm nights, and enough extra shifts at the bookstore to keep her funded, and the markers in her pocket.

Capping the pen, she took a step back from the wall to admire her work. She'd let Eater's annoying tag sit on the wall for almost three days before she had been able to even look at it again. That hadn't stopped her from planning her revenge though, and she'd spent any free time she had detailing out her response to the vain bastard who covered up her lines.

Well, it had taken a lot of work, and a very late last night, but her retaliation had started. It would be a cold day in hell before Maka Albarn walked away from this. She was proud with what now shone on the wall, wet paint giving off a dreamlike shine to her lines, making them something greater than just paint on bricks.

It looked beautiful.

It's because she's so engrossed in her work, that she doesn't hear the shuffling footsteps until they're getting louder. Panic settled in her bones, before rushing to the surface, and she broke out into a cold sweat. Carefully, she shoved the markers deep into the pocket of her black hoodie, and she tries to look as nonchalant as possible. There's nowhere for her to run and being caught alone, in an alley, well after midnight, is not going to look good, no matter how she tried to talk her way out of it.

Finally, the figure that slipped into the front of the alley got closer to her, and she felt her heartbeat skyrocket. There wasn't much light down where she was, aside from the flashlight she had on the ground by her backpack, but she could make out the faint glow off shock white hair. That's all she can make out before the figure noticed her standing there, and they straightened up. They're tall, whoever they are, nearly a foot taller than she is. They meet her eyes, and she isn't sure, but it looks almost like red is staring back at her.

It had to be a trick of the light.

The rest of their face is hidden underneath a black bandana, and between that and the black beanie on their head, Maka can't get anything else from the glance, other than a fringe of white bangs and eyes that can't be real.

The eyes regarded her for a moment, before bouncing to the wall, wet paint still shining as she swallowed hard, unsure of what would happen next. She didn't have much to defend herself with, just the flashlight and a bag full of books.

Actually, she was better armed than she thought.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn't for the figure to smack a hand against their forehead and sigh.

"You're the Angel? Jesus you're shorter than I thought you'd be."

Thank yous!:

KamuiLumior: Well, she won't take him covering her art like that, no way!

Sheepeater: Thank you so much! I'm glad you like it! An author of my caliber? Surely you jest, my friend. I'm just going along with the story at its own pace. Oh, you like the freak outs? You're gonna love the next chapter! Scouts honor!

Awesomeasusual: AH AWESOME I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT! Yes, Soul with tattoos…good. Great even, really, I don't know how I am going to get anything done with this tattooed artist in my head. UGH THE EVANS BROTHERS ARE MY WEAKNESS. REALLY. I LOVE THEM BOTH SO MUCH. Ah, the detective with the delinquent daughter. Yes, I do like his Slutty little character. I'M SO GLAD THE ART COMES THROUGH, BUT I CAN'T REALLY TAKE CREDIT FOR THAT! POOR ODAT HAS TO SIT THERE AND PRETTY MUCH TALK ME THROUGH EVERTHING. THE POOR THING.

Twin-Lupus: Ah! I'm so glad you like it! Really Fab, it means a lot! No, please, don't thank me. This little gig is WAAAAAY too much fun for you to thank me! ACTUALLY THANK YOU FOR READING, AND HELPING, AND CONTRIBUTING!

Chelsea-Chee: I'm glad you like it! Thank you for the reviews!

Missymoobelle: Street art is actually surprisingly FUN. I would absolutely add it to your bucket list. I'm glad you like the AU! I've been having a blast figuring out how Soul and Maka and art would play together, and I'm glad it's coming across well! Thank you for reading!

Wildchild911: Don't you worry, now that school is over, I have WAY more time to dedicate to this story!

Guest: I'm glad you like it! Thanks for reading, and graffiti art is pretty awesome actually. Way fun.

Eieriann: Oh, I am HARDLY the right person to ask about tagged thug life! I've just spent a lot of time on YouTube and endlessly bothering my Beta Odat about the art. I'm sure she's about ready to kill me. And yes…yes tattooed Soul is something that should happen. Very very soon.

Inu-Twins: Thank you! Thanks for reading!

Gunning Twice: I don't know! I was honestly surprised no one had! But to be honest, the prompt was handed to me by Awesomeasusual, so I hardly came up with it! Thanks for reading! I'm glad you like it!

Queen-Of-Heroes: I'm glad you like it! and oh, don't worry, the competition is just getting started!

The-brightest-fell: I'm glad you like it! Thanks Bright!

AbsentAngel: Now that school is out, I should be able to update more! Yay! Thanks for reading!

S0oulmatch3r: Oh, they fight over that wall A LOT.

Wow…16 reviews for the first chapter, that might honestly be a record for me. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH.

EXTRA SPECIAL THANKS TO ODAT, MY LOVELY BETA AND CO-OWER, AND TWIN-LUPUS, WHO HELPED OUT WITH SOME FUTURE DEVLEOPMENTS.

ALSO, HERE'S TO US SOMA FANDOM. WE HAD OUR FUCKING HEARTS RIPPED OUT THIS WEEK, BUT WE WILL OVERCOME IT. WE ARE AWESOME LIKE THAT.

Thank you all!

-Eris.