Author Notes: The Basie referenced herein is none other than Count Basie, considered to be one of the 'kings of swing.' As for the Bill Evans song...well...you'll just have to wait to hear its title. I have not come into sudden ownership of anything lately, so as always: Soul Eater isn't mine, none of the music is mine, etc.
Edit: Fixed the sentence that got all wonky in the last section. Thanks for letting me know, Marsh of Sleep!
Her hands twitched;
Her hands that were folded neatly on a table in the Dive.
Her hands that pressed softly against the ivories of a piano, blending with the soft bass.
Melded emotions expressed in melody, reflecting scarred chests and gloved hands.
Affection and attraction and fear combined and she could remember toes curling on the bar of a kitchen chair- a sleepless, concerned night in Death City.
She remembered golden, glimmering hair in the sunlight—a curved back and a quiet morning in an unfamiliar place.
Her hands hung loosely at her sides as she stood in the sanctum of his soul.
Eyes met, crimson and olive, and she set the boundary. She pulled at the resonance, trying to delineate what was her.
Past and present wrenched apart as she separated herself from him.
The hands jammed in pants pockets weren't hers.
She delineated what was her and what was her weapon.
And smiled sheepishly at him when she succeeded. She flexed her fingers experimentally—first as the her in the Dive, then as the her that stood in the Black Room. Maka kept her focus on the present, pushing out the emotions and memories that were not hers.
The fabric of the Black Dress fluttered softly at Maka's feet, curling like smoke. Through Soul's natural sense of rhythm, she could sense that there was a pattern to its billowing. Soul closed the distance between them, placing an arm on her shoulder. In the Dive, the same spot tingled with phantom sensation. Maka felt their souls pulse in time to the slow beat of a song.
In the Black Room, Soul was pulling her closer, a hand placed lightly on her waist. Music swelled around them. Maka smiled as she realized that it was the music that he was playing on the stage. She offered him her hand and he took it with a slight smirk.
I'll lead this time. Maka rolled her eyes at the amusement in his tone, but she placed her hand on the crook of his arm nevertheless. She let him pull her into the first few steps of a swaying dance.
Mm. Dancing is good for resonance, she teased.
You were the one who said that she wanted to raise our resonance levels, after all, his response was quick, smirk widening into a grin. Can't say I mind this as much, though.
Another thing you'll only do with me in the Black Room, she chided. Her eyes drifted to their feet, trying her best to not step on her partner's foot. She didn't need to see his face to perceive his eyeroll. I thought you said that you didn't want your little friend involved in all this?
The shrugging motion he made caused his hand to slide up her waist slightly. Maka found it odd how acutely aware she was of the thumb pressing gently against her ribs. She chalked the hypersensitivity up to the nature of the Black Room, putting it out of her mind as she tilted her head to the side. She made a small noise of encouragement.I pushed him outta here. Little shit's probably pouting outside the door, knowin' him. But I don't think he's gonna interrupt us. Too much of your wavelength around for his liking.
Maka looked questioningly at him and he sighed.
This song reminds me of you. That's…uh…why I'm playin' it out there. Playin' it for you, I mean. Embarrassment tinged his cheeks. I guess I could have said something about it…or had Lottie say something, but I figured that I could just explain it here. And then Lottie said what she said…
Maka's embarrassment mirrored Soul's for a moment, but then her brows furrowed. Lottie?
Soul pushed a mental image of the curvy vocalist towards Maka's end of the link. The Black Room amplified the communication and a sudden burst of sensation hit Maka. Soul's disdain for the woman's cloying attitude hit her hard enough that she found herself was lounging at the bar, a wide smile on her face as she chatted with Louie. Hit with sudden suspicion, Maka slid into Soul Perception again.
In the Black Room, her foot scuffed awkwardly, hitching their dance. Soul's arms tightened on her to keep her from falling. What is it?
Lottie and Louie both have…unusual souls.
Soul's brows furrowed.
How unusual? Are they—
No, Maka cut him off quickly, sending him an extra forceful surge of reassurance. They're human. But their souls are much stronger than they would have otherwise been. Apparently Louie Fitzgerald wasn't the only one with potential. I'll have to keep an eye on the both of them.
Soul nodded. I'll ask Lottie if she's had anything unusual happen to her recently. Their rhythm returned, Soul relaxed his hold on Maka a little.
She hummed, pleasantly harmonizing with the music that filled both the Black Room and the Dive.
Thank you. The sentiment was accompanied with gratitude and appreciation.
Embarrassment tinged Soul's tone. It's not like I wrote this for you or anything. He restrained a flinch when Maka moved closer, her thighs lightly brushing his.
But you're still playing for me, she murmured. A smile tugged at her lips and Soul, outside of resonance, shot a glance at her from across the room to see that same smile. Their eyes met in a shared gaze in both levels of reality.
I'll try to do that more often. His words were soft and Maka, giving in to the urge that she had earlier, leaned her head on his chest gently. Unsure of what to do he stiffened, but when Maka peered up at him curiously, he relaxed again with a bashful grin. She felt his chuckle rumble through his chest, their bond vibrating alongside it.
Soul blamed Maka's complex network of awareness for their closeness, and he couldn't hide the sneaking suspicion that she was going to Chop him for this later, even though it was all her fault.
Not gonna chop you, she assured him. The lulling security of their resonance made her voice sound drowsy. For a brief moment, Soul's heart leapt into his throat.
The song was coming to a close, but they kept swaying, despite the dying of the music. Outside of their resonance, Maka rubbed at a too-warm collarbone. Her sigh echoed through both their souls.
I don't want to leave, but—
We've got work to do. He smiled sheepishly. Despite their words neither moved from the embrace, though outside, Soul was standing to polite applause and Lottie was sashaying her way back on-stage. Maka made a strangled sort of noise when the woman winked at Soul. She pulled herself from Soul's arms with a look of embarrassment. His own expression had gone a little distant.
The pest is trying to come in now. You might wanna...
Maka gave a sound of understanding to accompany her quick nod. She detached herself from the Room slowly, her soul giving his a lingering caress as they settled back into a normal resonance. For a moment she felt empty without the cadence of her partner's emotions alongside hers. But she rolled her shoulders and leaned back in her chair, scanning the room with both eyes and her Perception. The band cued up a more upbeat tune. Maka sent a quick nonverbal cue to check in on Soul.
Everything's fine, he assured her, Little Oni's just pouting. Being his typically unpleasant self. He wants me to play some swing.
Eh, maybe you should throw him a bone for good behavior, she teased. Her thin fingers reached to rub at her neck.
His behavior is never good, he scoffed.
But his music changed to something a little bit more upbeat, and Maka, while doing another scan of the room, could have sworn she heard someone mention how much they liked 'Basie's swing.'
Jenny Diver was one of the most solidly built women Maka had ever seen in her life. She gave off the aura of someone who had been molded by hardship, and Maka could sense that diamond-sharpness in her soul. It was also apparent that Jenny was one of an alarming number of people who were involved with the Dive that had an unusually strong soul.
Maka would have broached the topic for discussion if she wasn't trying to not wilt under the woman's imposing gaze. Beside her, Soul did a good job of seeming outwardly aloof, but Maka could sense the wavering concern he felt. It had been the first time in years that he'd been judged for his playing ability and he was nothing if not apprehensive.
The band had finished their set about an hour before closing. Soul had bee-lined for Maka's table in the back, ignoring her mental suggestions that he stay away to keep their cover. He'd collapsed into the chair beside her, voice muffled by the tablecloth as he laid his head down.
"You're gonna be conspicuous if you're here every night anyway. If anyone asks, we'll just say you're my girlfriend or some shit." His voice had been hoarse enough that Maka let him stay there, motioning for a waitress and quietly asking for some water. Shortly after this, the curvy vocalist made her way to their table. Looking imperiously at Maka, she extended a slender hand.
"Lottie Lenya," she had crooned, her gaze straying to the slumped figure of Maka's partner. "Jenny says she wants you two to stay past closing." She had let her hand brush against Soul's shoulder as she withdrew from Maka's firmer-than-normal handshake. "You played pretty well tonight, kid."
Soul hadn't bothered to lift his head from the table, grunting his thanks through the cloth. Maka had taken some enjoyment in Lottie's affronted expression as she'd walked away.
The club thinned out slowly; some of the patrons had approached the table to speak to the new pianist, but most were repelled quickly by the sullen slant of his mouth. Cabs were called for the patrons too drunk to get themselves home safely as the wait staff came in to do a final cleaning of the tables.
Soul had been picking at a plate of food, surreptitiously listening to Maka's ponderous music, when the namesake of the establishment strode up to where they were seated.
"Jenny Diver," she said sharply. Soul raised a hooded gaze and extended a hand. Their handshake was brisk.
"Soul Evans." His voice was even, but Maka could see in his eyes the conflicted feelings that came with such an introduction. "Did you find my performance tonight satisfactory?"
Maka tried not to giggle at her partner's stiff formality. Soul Eater, Deathscythe and all-around 'cool guy,' had faced down gods of madness and death with less decorum. The meister concluded that she liked Jenny already.
Her amusement died somewhat when she, too, was subject to the woman's scrutiny.
Jenny responded, still staring Maka down, "Your technique is nothing to sneeze at, boy, but you've gotta work on your stage personality. You'll kill all of Lottie's hard work if you just scowl your way through the whole thing." Maka released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding when Jenny's gaze slid from her and fixed on her partner instead. His hand grasped at Maka's knee under the table.
"You'll also need to stop giving your partner googoo eyes all the time. I know that you weapon-meister pairs are close with whatever special soul things you do, but for your own sake, you might want to be slightly less obvious."
Both weapon and meister sputtered at this, cheeks turning a matching shade of red. Jenny huffed at them, but her posture loosened. The hand on Maka's knee relaxed, but didn't leave. She was glad for the contact.
"I'll keep that in mind, ma'am." Soul flashed the woman his most winning smile, but Jenny seemed unimpressed. She arched a brow at him.
"None of that ma'am stuff, kid. My name's Jenny and that's what you'll call me, you understand?"
Soul nodded, swallowing at the woman's tone. Arms folded, Jenny moved her gaze to Maka. The young meister's spine straightened.
"Your name's Maka Albarn, right?" The tone was a bit gentler than Maka had been expecting. Her hand was rough in Maka's as they shook.
"Yes, Jenny. I'm Soul's partner."
Jenny gave a sharp bark of laughter, "That's for damn sure!"
Maka managed to pull off enough nonchalance to shrug. "We've been together awhile. The eye contact is second nature to us. We'll be more aware of it in the future."
Jenny nodded. "Good." She jerked her head towards the exit. "It's late. You two should split—if you're gonna be my temporary pianist, I don't want you looking half dead tomorrow."
Soul kept himself from groaning as he stood, Maka following suit. "Thanks," he said, gratitude in his eyes. Jenny gave a severe snort.
"No need to thank me—I'm mainly keeping you because eye candy keeps the customers coming. I'm no fool; I heard many a compliment about that ass of yours tonight. But your being grouchy and tired isn't gonna win you many appeal points." She pointed a knobby finger at him threateningly. "Remember to work on that smile of yours. I'm gonna expect you at six sharp tomorrow night to start setting up and run through a more streamlined set. I don't know what that Bill Evans shit you pulled was."
Maka grasped at Soul's hand despite Jenny's glare. "I dunno…I liked it." Her stomach did a miniscule flop at the look of gratitude in her partner's eyes. Jenny remained stoic, simply jerking her head in the direction of the door and folding her arms over an imposing chest. Fingers still interlaced, the two gathered their things and left, Jenny's hard gaze following them as they went.
Soul would have spent more time considering the more positive implications of waking up to the sight of his meister's face on the pillow next to his if she hadn't been scowling like no tomorrow. And holding a mangled toothbrush within his line of sight.
The weapon groaned and rolled over, pulling the covers over his face.
"You had better tell me that this is not the only toothbrush you brought with you, Soul."
He growled. "It's not, okay? I've got a spare in my bag."
Booted feet kicked at his mattress with a huff. Maka used the end of the brush to poke at Soul's ribs, doing so again despite his pained yelp.
"A spare, Soul?" He could hear the arching of her brows in her tone. "You're going to need more than one, Soul Eater; you've already made a mess of this one."
The incredulity in her voice was enough to make Soul lower the covers enough so that he could blearily glare at her. In his mind, he weighed the pros and cons of kicking her until she left his bed, but hearing the irritated flow of her music was enough to give him pause. She poked him again for good measure.
"Maka, stop bein' a hellcat and just tell me what you want." Despite the apathy in his tone, he did his best to move out of her poking range. Being poised on the edge of the bed was the better option when faced with the prospect of being jabbed in the ribs. Maka frowned, but didn't move to make another shot at him.
"You know what I want. Get your lazy butt out of bed so that we can buy you enough toothbrushes to last the rest of this mission." She pulled at his arm peevishly, standing in the hopes that he would follow her motion and sit up. Instead his arm was limp in her grasp, her tugging causing little more than a look of irritation to settle into the weapon's expression. Maka made a frustrated noise, more cute than imposing. Soul laughed at this, sitting up just so he could better see the flustered look on her face.
His eyes were hooded, hair mussed from sleep. Maka did her best to look cross with him, but giggled a little when her partner yawned and rubbed at his eyes. Throwing the abused toothbrush at him, Maka headed for the door.
"I'm gonna go get some coffee. You want any?"
Soul shook his head sullenly. He yawned again, fingers plucking at the blankets as he worked up the energy to leave the warmth of his bed. Maka smiled despite herself.
"You'd better be out of bed by the time I get back, Soul." Her tone made her words fonder than they should have been.
Jenny's office was hidden behind one of the thick red curtains in the Dive. It was small, and though the furniture was of a good make, the room was relatively Spartan. She rarely spent time in it- Jenny preferred to do most of the official work of the club at home when she could. The room was kept mainly for convenience and as a storage location for the duplicate files.
It was unusual enough for Louie to be in the office that he actually felt nervous there, despite having worked for Jenny for upwards of a dozen years. She was imposing enough without the intense backdrop of her high-backed chair. The deep scowl on her face made something in the pit of Louie's stomach writhe. Clearing his throat to break the silence, he approached her desk.
"What is it that you need?" She looked at him from the corner of her eye, not turning to face him properly. Scattered across the desk were papers in atypical disarray. Louie spotted a page with Fitz's loopy handwriting scrawled across it.
"I just wanted to ask…" his voice faltered for a moment and he cleared his throat again, "…ask if we're gonna be okay."
Jenny turned at this, her expression stern. "We're doing just fine, Louie. The numbers are solid. That Evans kid you brought in might be a load of Shibusen trouble, but he did good last night." She gestured towards a newspaper that laid atop a small stack of forms. "The critic who was scheduled to come in gave a good review. Said he was a breath of fresh air and expected good things from the kid in the future." Jenny snorted derisively.
Louie lifted the paper, looking askance at the stack below. They were application forms for other pianists that Jenny kept on file in the event that she needed to hire someone new. Louie spied the forms for a vocalist or two in the mix. He leafed through these, ignoring the irked glare of his boss. "That's not what I meant, Jenny."
She was quiet while he continued to flip through the pages. The cracking of her neck echoed through the room as she sighed. "I know, Louie. And to answer your question, I really don't know."
"I got a call from Shibusen today, telling me that I needed to be aware a dangerous kishin egg in the area and that I was to report to the agents they had sent in if I was concerned." An ironic smile twisted his thin lips. "They were a little surprised to find out that I worked here."
Jenny's expression darkened. "They don't care as much when you don't have a big name attached to you, like Fitz did."
Louie looked scandalized. "You aren't suggesting that he—"
She cut him off with a glare. "Don't you dare. You know that I loved him like a son. I'm not a crying kind of lady, but I shed a tear or three when I heard." Her fingers twitched. "But I've got a business to run and not enough time to mourn. On top of this killer to keep an eye out for, I've got that meister and her weapon to worry about." The hand that had lay on Fitz' old application reached up to rub at her temples. It struck Louie that he couldn't recall the last time she looked this weary.
"Those two seem like they've got their heads screwed on right, at least."
Jenny snorted. "Sure they do. When they're not busy fawning over each other, like every weapon and meister pair on the goddamn planet." Louie chuckled at Jenny's discontent.
"They're young. Besides, I think they did a good job of keeping an eye on the club last night. Her Perception is really thorough."
Louie had been keeping an eye on the young meister and her weapon partner through the night. His power wasn't anything special—he had a vague idea of the fluctuations of the power of souls around him. The only reason that he could pick up on Maka's Perception was because he'd had a long history of being around someone who had the same ability.
Jenny ran her hand through her hair with a sour expression. "She spent almost all of last night bonded to her weapon. You probably couldn't tell her soul from his."
Louie rolled his eyes. "Not everyone can have flawless Perception like you, Jenny." The woman gave him a sobering look, bitterness in her words.
"Flawless my ass." She took the paper that Louie still held in his hands and deposited it back on top of the stack of applications. Her eyes held an emotion that Louie couldn't quite interpret as she straightened the stray sheets on her desk. "Stop leaning on the furniture, Louie."
Louie's smile was melancholy. "Yes, ma'am."
"Told you not to call me that," she admonished gruffly. "I'll get to you before the demon does if you keep this up, moron." Concern darkened her tone. "The Dive isn't a haven this time."
"There's nothing you can do?" Louie stepped back from the desk. Jenny's laugh was humorless.
"No, Louie. This time you're on your own."
Soul wondered how he'd managed to end up burdened with the entirety of their groceries—or how they ended up with groceries in the first place. Normally Maka was pretty stingy with the money they spent on missions, and as far as Soul had been aware, they'd been going to the store to get him another toothbrush.
Maka was bent over her phone as Soul leaned against the outer wall of the store. The weapon let some of the bags drop to the ground. They'd been heavy enough to cut off the circulation in his fingers, etched white lines from the handles contrasting the otherwise flushed red of his skin. He flexed them stiffly as his meister pondered the best route back to the hotel.
"Maka, why don't we just call a cab?" A bag crinkled as he nudged it with his booted foot. "We've got frozen stuff in here and it's gonna melt." Maka gave him a scathing look, holding her phone high above her head in the hopes of somehow getting better service.
"That's just going to waste money." Soul restrained a groan at his meister's stubbornness.
"Maka, we just bought groceries when we can get dinner from any tons of places in the area. Wasting money is not the issue here." Maka aimed a kick in the direction of his left shin, which he narrowly dodged. Her foot connected with one of the bags, which fell over with a loud thunk. There was mischief in Soul's grin. "I think that was your macaroni and cheese, Maka."
His meister growled in frustration, but kept her feet to herself as she looked at her phone.
"Stupid page won't load," she grumbled. A defeated look crossed her features and she leaned against the wall beside her weapon. She sullenly handed her phone to Soul. "Fine. Call a cab."
"All this would have been solved if I'd just been able to take my bike up here," he said, giving his meister the best impression of her know-it-all look that he could muster. She stuck her tongue out in a petulant response.
Soul tapped at her phone for a moment, looking for the number of the cab company that Maka had called to pick them up from the airport. He found it and mouthed 'don't kick me' in her direction with a stern look.
"I won't," she grumbled, crossing her arms at her chest. With a booted foot she moved their bags into the shadow of the wall's awning. Soul kept his call with the cab company short.
"They'll be here in ten minutes." He held Maka's phone out for her to take. She did so with a baleful look, causing her partner to groan. "Don't look at me like that, Maka, you're the one that decided that we needed to get all this frozen stuff to put in the mini fridge. I don't even think this is goin' to fit in the freezer section of that thing." He did his best to sound stern, but Soul was too amused to pull it off. "You just had to have that macaroni and cheese."
Maka snarled irritably. "Going out all the time would just draw more attention to us, Soul. I'm just trying to do our job right."
Soul's eyebrows raised slightly. He made a placating gesture with his hands before shoving them back into his pockets. "Okay, geez, Maka. Don't bite my head off."
Though he did his best to look nonchalant, Maka could read the hurt in the slight furrow of his eyebrows. Realizing that her tone had been somewhat harsh, she bit the inside of her cheek. Soul was fiddling with something in one of his pockets, his gaze on the concrete before them. Maka puffed her breath out and nudged him with a hip.
"Sorry," she muttered. "I'm angry because I didn't learn anything useful last night." Her fingers clenched at her sides.
Soul didn't look at her. "I know." His feet scuffed at the sidewalk, shoulders slumping. "Your music has been…darker…today. I figured."
Maka gave him a sidelong glance. "My music? How often do you hear it now?"
Soul sighed slightly. "Most all the time, unless we're in a really crowded room. It's in the back of my mind all the time, mostly I just tune it out. I have to focus if I really want it to be more than a mess of notes in my head."
Maka made a thoughtful noise. "I wonder if it has something to do with our resonance rate? We've done a lot of resonating these past few days…" Soul nodded absently, his gaze focused on the street. Blonde bangs falling in her eyes, she was about to voice her irritation, but he cut her off.
"Cab's here." He scooped up the groceries with a grimace, depositing a few of the bags on her crossed arms. Squawking, she scrambled to keep the bags from falling as her partner waved down their taxi. Her hands were too full for her to Chop him without letting the groceries fall and he left the trunk of the cab open for her, so she let it slide. As she tucked her bags in beside the ones he had haphazardly tossed into the back, her lips twitched into a half smile. Soul may have tossed their groceries at her, but only the two lightest bags.
Maka slid into the back of the cab, nodding when the cabbie asked if they were ready to go. He confirmed the name of their hotel with surprise.
"That's a pretty nice place you kids are staying in. What brings you to the Windy City? You goin' to a wedding, or something?" His voice was scratchy, but there was a warmth in his tone that kept Maka from bristling.
"No," she said, "I'm afraid we're just here on business. Our company is working out a deal with a local business and we're here to mediate."
The cabbie sounded impressed. "Aren't you a bit young to be lawyers?"
Soul barked in laughter. "Naw, we're not like that."
"We're just representatives," Maka said quickly, shooting her partner a warning look. He rolled his eyes. "We're here to ensure that the process goes smoothly."
He nodded, looking into the rear view mirror. Maka's eyes accidentally met his. She smiled at him, somewhat bashful, and he grinned in response. Though his features were quite grizzled, there was a kindness to him that she appreciated.
"So judging by the groceries, you guys are gonna be there for a while?" Some of pleasantness in his face died when Maka hummed her assent. "You might want to be careful there, sweetheart."
Maka was startled enough by the cabbie's words that she didn't notice how Soul stiffened in the seat beside her. "Why? Is there something wrong with the hotel?"
The cabbie shook his head. "I wouldn't know anything about the hotel itself. Say goes that it's a nice place and it used to be in a good part of town."
"Was in a good part of town?" Soul asked, suspicious.
The taxi made a sharp right turn, causing them both to lean heavily. Maka's shoulder brushed against his for a moment, her spine straightening as she mouthed embarrassed apologies. Soul gave her a level 'stop being stupid' glance before returning his focus to the cabbie, who was navigating traffic with a bored sort of focus.
"This is a nice area of the city. It's pretty high class, but not enough so for it to become a target. Everything's pretty much in order here." He made a quick gesture to a building as they passed. "Friend of mine works there. Says some weird shit has been happening lately. A few kids have gone missing…others were attacked—they're in the hospital now, and most of them are bad off enough that they won't be talking much for a while." His dark eyes narrowed. "One of the kids is okay enough to talk, but the doctors think the shock has made him a little crazy."
"Why?"
Soul could hear the flurry of notes of Maka's thoughts. He read panic, concern, and excitement in their tone.
"Kid says that he had a friend with him—who was later identified as one of the missing ones—that the guy got to first. Said that the kid's body turned into some glowing blue orb and the guy that attacked them ate it." He shrugged. "Weird shit happens in a place as big as this, but I don't know about this one." Maka looked into the rearview mirror to find him looking intently at her and her partner. "Just be careful, okay?"
They both nodded, Soul wrapping an arm around Maka's shoulders. "I'll keep her safe."
Though she huffed indignantly, she didn't attempt to escape his grasp. "And I'll keep him from being stupid."
At Soul's expense, the cabbie grinned. "You do that, girl." The car slowed to a stop. Tapping the meter, the driver turned. "Twelve fifty eight, please."
Soul was already digging into his wallet to pay for the fare and Maka left the cab quickly, tapping the truck so the driver would pop it. He did so with a crooked smile that widened when he saw the tip Soul had added. "Take care," he said, handing the white-haired weapon a business card. "Call me with this number if you ever need a cab next time." Soul nodded absently, trying to wrestle some of the groceries from Maka, who was stubbornly trying to carry them all.
It was about the time that the cabbie drove away that Soul gave up trying to get the groceries from his uncooperative partner. Instead he looked over the card he was given. The cardstock looked like decent quality, but the weapon still frowned in disapproval.
"What is it?" Maka asked, her green eyes curious as she peeked out from behind bags.
"Guess his name," Soul said, voice dripping with irony. Maka made a noncommittal noise, only half-thinking on her partner's challenge as she attempted to open the door of the hotel lobby. Groaning, Soul swat her hands out of the way and opened the door himself.
"Rumplestiltskin?" she hazarded.
Soul stuffed the card in his pocket with a bemused look. He took advantage of her greeting the lobby attendant, snatching a couple of the grocery bags from her arms. Ignoring her protests, he herded the meister towards the elevator. "No. He, just like every other damn man in this city, is named Louie."
Maka was too busy trying not to laugh to attempt taking back the groceries.
Navigating through the streets of Chicago with a scythe in her hands without drawing undue attention proved difficult for Maka. She had to stick to shadows and dark alleys, making use of skills she had picked up while working with Black Star. Tracking down the kishin egg that the cabbie had mentioned was easier than either the meister or weapon had expected it to be, but finding a proper place to eliminate it was much more difficult. Maka had wanted to attack the monster on sight but Soul reminded her that they were trying to avoid detection this time. So they had tracked the creature through the streets, blood pounding in time to the resonance that hummed in their ears.
I guess you learned a thing or two, Soul teased.
Hush, you. Focus on what we're doing here. Her response wasn't harsh, but it still made Soul's handle shiver in reproach. Maka got a sense of pouting from his side of the link. She rolled her eyes and continued her pursuit of the kishin egg.
Finding him had been something of a disappointment—it was obvious that he wasn't Mack. This potential kishin had a pitifully small soul; it had only recently started its spiral into madness. It was good to catch these things early, of course, but Maka had a small hope that they had gotten a jump on Mack. This was a mission that even her mother had failed.
Oi, oi, Soul prodded the link, It's time for you to focus on the mission.
I am focused, Maka snapped back. Both felt her chagrin and instant regret through their bond. Maka couldn't stop the blush that rose to her cheeks as her partner laughed.
The kishin egg slipped past a building, indiscreetly sliding through a door that opened into the alleyway. Maka waited, counting a few breaths before she slipped into Perception so that she could see where in the building their prey had gone. She sensed the soul's descent into what she assumed was a basement, gasping softly when she realized—
Soul, we need to go in there now. She was running, dodging traffic on the through street with uncanny ability. Her partner hadn't been attuned to the resonance long enough for him to pick up on her Perception, so his response was confused and filled with a sort of panic at how his meister had flown through a busy street.
Wait, why? I thought we were gonna wait until we had a good spot to get him alone. There could be people in there—
There are people in there, Soul. And their wavelengths are weak. I think he's keeping people in there so that he can eat their souls.
Abandoning pretense, Maka kicked the door in and thundered through the hallway beyond. She took a sharp right, turning on her heel, and leapt into a downward stairwell. Soul's protests were drowned out by the thundering of her boots as they hit cracked concrete. Maka's wavelength pulsed with panic, and was seasoned with adrenaline. Soul's attempts at making link-speech with her failed; she was too rushed, her mind working in too many places at once. When he tried to ask her what was wrong, he got vague images of souls in his mind and frantic sensations of terror. His end of the link shimmered with confusion and alarm; Maka was going down those stairs too quickly, she was making too much noise, she had drawn too much attention to them when she had crossed the street.
He connected with his meister's sense of Perception—it wasn't very strong, but it was enough for him to hear the faint tinkle of notes from the victims of the demon.
Soul's nostrils flared. He understood.
Children, he growled, the bastard has been feeding on children to try and raise his power. Their souls are weak, but they're easy targets.
Maka's end of the resonance mirrored her partner's horror for a moment, but they were rounding the corner of the final flight of stairs. Long legs stretching as far as they would go, Maka launched herself into the basement.
Maka, be careful, this might be a tra—
It took an alarming amount of time for Soul to process what happened. He was trying to send his partner waves of calm with his own flickering wavelength, trying to get her to think rationally when his own mind was going too fast. Maka was resisting his attempts, sliding on the loose rubble on the basement's floor as her eyes took their environment. She looked up at the ceiling of the basement and gasped at the same time as she lost her footing on the unstable ground. Her feet flew out in front of her and she fell. It happened too fast for Soul to react properly and shield her head from hitting the concrete. Their resonance stuttered with her sudden loss of orientation.
From above there was screeching as the kishin egg dropped from its perch atop a bar that ran along the ceiling. Soul saw multiple forms of what he assumed were children, Maka had been knocked out of Perception when she hit her head, also hanging from the beam. The evil creature wailed as it hit the floor, inhumanly scurrying across its surface to swipe at Maka.
Soul quickly shifted into his human form, grasping Maka's shoulder and rolling them out of the kishin egg's path. Their enemy stumbled as it attempted to counterbalance itself, breath puffed into a hideous gasp. The white haired weapon took his meister's head into his hands, frantically checking to see how bad the damage was. Her wavelength was growing more steady, the disorientation of the initial blow fading. She'd had worse injuries in the past. Green eyes hardened as she shifted her gaze from Soul's worried expression to the creature that was wheeling on them.
"Soul, transform," she barked, groaning as she pushed herself to a standing position. Being on her feet made her somewhat dizzy, but she bit at her lip and let the world spin. The warm hands on her shoulder vanished, replaced with a familiar length of living steel. Maka grasped at his handle over her shoulder, pushing the end with her right hand and cupping higher with the left to cleave Soul's blade downward into the shoulder of the kishin egg. It hissed, jerking its arm back in an attempt to free itself. The sound of its skin splitting was sickening, but the move awarded enough room for the kishin to pull out of the grapple Maka had gained. Eyes widening, Maka reached outward, trying to drag it back so that she cleanly cut it in half. Her fingers grazed the coat that hung loosely off of its spare shoulders, but the creature was too fast for her to get a proper grip. It was slithering out of her grasp, a hand on the gaping wound she had left. A gruesome trail of crimson followed in its wake.
"Child killer," Maka spat, "your soul is mine!"
The creature wheezed at her, body shaking. Outwardly it seemed human enough to pass as normal on the street, but as it opened its mouth its jaw unhinged to reveal alarmingly jagged teeth. When it spoke, it did so with the inflection of one who was forgetting how to shape once-familiar sounds.
"Not kill…keep." It wrapped its thin arms about its torso, eyes bulging with madness. "Keep them. Keep them here forever. They'll never go. Never be hurt." Suddenly it tilted its head to the side, the shell of its ear painted red with the blood from its wound. A smile twisted its features as it bent forward, head still at an unnatural angle. "Also young. You and the shiny pain. I'll protect. Protect you from the hurt."
Its knee bent at impossible angle as it slunk closer. Maka was having difficulty focusing on the creature, an ache forming in her head that was starting to interfere with her ability to keep in resonance.
Maka, are you okay? Concern was thick in Soul's voice, mixed with his horror. Maka's expression tightened.
We're going to need to call out Witch Hunter for this, Soul. This headache is distracting. Her grip on Soul's handle tightened, hoping it would anchor her and keep the rising nausea in her stomach down. She could vaguely feel her partner's rage—at the monster, for harming the children; at her, for being too rash and hurting herself. Maka tried to send him reassurance and calm, but too much of her pain leaked through, angering her weapon further.
Maka, you're not gonna be able to hit him like this. The link vibrated with Soul's anger and Maka's head pounded. She jabbed at their link impatiently.
We don't have time for this. Her point was accentuated by the wild swing of their enemy's arm. They narrowly dodged the blow, Maka pulling Soul in a quick horizontal slash that missed the kishin entirely. The creature hissed again, muttering to itself as it attempted to flank Maka.
I'm losing focus quickly.
You have a concussion, moron, her weapon reprimanded. You're not going to be able to hit this thing when you have a head wound like that.
Then you're going to need to help me, then. Maka snapped back at him. Can you still access my Perception?
Somewhat. What do you have in mind? Soul asked edgily. He hissed as she dodged another blow, reeling with nausea from the movement.
Help me guide the slash, Soul. Her gloved hands slid down the handle of Soul's scythe as she cleaved in the monster's direction. The blade missed, but she managed to hit it in the side with the juncture of Soul's blade and shaft. With a hiss the creature curled inward, hands flying to the wound with a start.
"Does not want? I protect," it cried piteously, a poor imitation of empathy in its eyes. "Stop hurting. I will make it stop." Thin fingers spread in Maka's direction, beckoning her closer. The meister's lip curled.
Now, Soul. Her command was ironclad. Soul let himself sink deeper into the resonance, straining to pull her focus away from the throbbing pain in her head. He hummed gently through their resonance, his soul cradling hers.
Focus, Maka. Listen. Listen to the kishin's music. Maka's eyes shut tightly as she endeavored to ignore all unnecessary sensations, including and especially the pain at her temples. She took a deep breath, twining her soul through her partner's.
Like fingers interweaving, she noted softly.
And then she sensed it—the monster's music, though she hesitated to call it that. The mad jumble of notes made it difficult for her discern if it was actually a song or just someone attacking a piano. Soul's part of the resonance chuckled.
You're not as used to the sound of madness as I am. There's a song in there, I can tell you that. There was a touch of sympathy in his voice.
A sad one.
Maka's brows furrowed. We can't afford to give this monster pity.
It doesn't deserve it, Soul added. Ready?
She nodded, her muscle memory taking over as she spun her weapon in her hands. Their souls aligned, their breath synchronized, and Soul's blade was shifting, glowing, growing into sharp angles that sang with her Anti-Demon Wavelength and his loyalty. When she pulled her weapon into a horizontal swing, it didn't matter that her aim was a little too low for its neck; the kishin egg was shorn from one shoulder to mid-torso. No blood spilled from the wound—the creature had a brief expression of brief shock cross its face before it unraveled from existence.
Their resonance broke instantly, Maka sinking onto one knee. Her right hand moved to brace against the ground, the other rising to gingerly touch the back of her head. She flinched, quickly pulling the hand away to inspect for blood. Dark red shined wetly in contrast to the white of her gloves.
Beside her, Soul transformed. His hand reached out to steady her, eyes narrowing when he saw the blood welling from her scalp.
"What the hell was that?" Soul wanted to yell, but he knew from their resonance sheer volume would only exacerbate her pain. He settled for an angered hissing from clenched teeth.
Maka gave him an irritable look. "What do you mean, Soul?"
Soul grimaced with exasperation. "I mean, why the hell did you charge in here like that? You slipped and hit your damn head. You're supposed to be so smart, but sometimes I think that Black*Star has more sense than you."
The meister whirled to her feet, anger etched in her features. It might have been fearsome had she not given herself vertigo from the movement, grasping at the front of Soul's jacket to steady herself. She glared at him through ashen bangs.
"It was about to eat the souls of those children. What else was I supposed to do?"
"I dunno," he growled, "maybe think before you throw yourself into a building and hit your head?"
"I was going for the element of surprise," she snapped. She pulled away, hastily releasing her partner's jacket. Her gaze raised to the beam above where the children were tied. She needed to find a good way to get them down safely, but her head was pounding hard enough that thought was difficult to think. Remembering what Soul had said earlier about a concussion, the color drained from her face. Concussions took long periods of time to heal and they were on a mission; how much of their success had she sacrificed on impulse? The realization hit her hard, bile and irritability rising in her throat. "You don't need to be this protective, Soul. I'm a big girl."
Soul gave an exasperated groan. "Maka, I'm your weapon. I am supposed to—"
"Not this again!" Maka shouted, wincing from the volume of her own voice. The look in her eyes was venomous. "You're a broken record with this, Soul. Weapons protect their meisters, but that's not a proper excuse for your being an overprotective ass!" Her tone was sharp enough to cut.
Soul wanted to yell, to grab his meister by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. His hands clenched at his sides as he bit back a caustic response; remembering her head injury made him stay his tongue.
Though she did her best to stand her ground, Maka was shaky. There was a slight tremor in her arms and the irritability in her face was overlaid with pain. Some of the blood from her wound had smeared on her neck, a lurid reminder of just how close he had come to losing her- how he still could if he didn't get her to a hospital quickly enough.
It was when he felt the sharp sting of pain that Soul realized that he had been digging his fingernails into his palms.
This was his meister, his Maka, and she was too precious for him to lose her like this.
Maka thought that his devotion was out of some sense of responsibility, that when he told her that it was his duty as her weapon to protect her, that it was out of some misplaced sense of duty. After years of resonanting, intertwining souls, she still didn't understand. Soul decided that it was time to stop waiting. He bridged the space between them by reaching out, placing a hand on her shoulder. The breath he drew echoed harshly in the room.
"What if I told you that it was because I loved you?" The words came out as a quiet snarl, tenderness masked with frustration. Maka could not break his gaze. "Is that excuse enough?"
Endless thanks to odat for helping me through this one. Seriously, you helped take care of my horrible sleep-deprived writing and I am forever thankful. As for the Bill Evans song...it's "Like Someone in Love." :)