I combined the next two chapters because I wanted you guys to meet Soul and love him as much as I do. Wes also makes an appearance, and let's just say I had fun playing around with his character.

CHAPTER TWO

She frowned at her reflection in the glass. But the bell was already ringing for the second time that morning, and she could almost hear Tsubaki offering to come get her again from downstairs, so Maka just sighed, saw the annoyance in her own brown eyes and rushed down the mahogany staircase.

At exactly six o'clock that morning, the three girls had burst into Maka's room, announcing that they had to get ready to go to school soon. Having stayed up late together talking about stories in Shibusen Prep Academy together after the semi-awkward dinner, Maka was tired and groggy, but she was somehow the only one and had to be practically pushed into one of the (very many) washrooms.

After a quick shower, Maka was only slightly more awake as she trudged back to her room to get dressed. But having only so few clothes after the accident, she was stuck with some of her mom's old jeans and an oversized sweater.

So much for first impressions, she thought as she poked her tiny fingers through the sleeve, rolling it up so she could actually see her hands.

"Morning, Maka," a little girl chirped cheerfully as she passed. The first thing Maka noticed was that she was genuinely smiling and that her eyes were just a regular brown instead of an exotic shade like almost everyone else. Since she didn't even know the girl's name, Maka settled for a small wave and noted mentally to find out who everyone in the Star house was. And if they had ever been admitted into a mental hospital at any point of their lives, 'cause that would totally make more sense.

The long table that was large enough to fit thirty—or maybe more—looked slightly different than it had the night before. Gone were the white tablecloths and the neatly set up cutlery and porcelain plates, the whole fancy candles and centerpieces no longer present. People still sat around the long wooden table, but it seemed to be less dressy and with platters of fruits set up evenly apart on top, Maka thought that the theme changed completely from 'fancy dinner' to 'casual breakfast.' She wondered what kind of theme they'd have for lunch on weekends.

Holidays, she guessed, probably had their own special designed plates. The thought made her giggle.

"Hi, Kitten!"

There was only one person in the entire house who called her by that ridiculous nickname, so Maka just plopped into the seat beside her without even looking up. "Hi, Patty."

"Are you excited for school?"

"From the way you described it, I'm not exactly thrilled."

"Oh, come on," Liz said, leaning forward so she could grin at her from around Tsubaki, "we were mostly exaggerating. Except about the curriculum. And the strict teachers. Okay, so most of the stories were true, but hey! We had fun."

"Yes, because getting a week's worth of detention for being late for class sounds like lots of fun." Maka pushed her sleeve up again from sliding down.

"It really depends who you have detention with," she said wickedly, then added almost as an afterthought, "And you only get detention if you're late because you decided to blow up the chem labs the period before!"

"That was so not on purpose!" Patty protested.

Liz waved that away. "I'm sure it wasn't, Pat. It just happened to burn Mr. Bruno's eyebrows off—no biggie. Point is, Shibusen Prep, despite being made solely for overachieved heirs and heiresses, is actually lovable. We have lots of memories there."

"You'll have fun," Tsubaki agreed. "Az would only choose the best school for his kids to go to."

"So we're kids of this Azazel person now?" Maka asked. "Is it weird that I've never met him before? Or is he usually this busy?"

The look passed between the other three girls was not missed. "No," Patty answered slowly, carefully, like she was weighing how much she should say. "He's pretty busy, so sometimes he can't make it back to greet our new family members right away. But I promise you'll meet him soon."

"Yeah, we usually only see him before dinner, anyways," Liz acceded.

"This seems like some kind of sorority house," Maka mumbled.

Tsubaki laughed softly. "Sort of."

Maka studied how they all shifted and seemed uncomfortable on the topic of the owner of the home. It was obvious there was something she wasn't getting, and she couldn't help but think that they should at least be better at hiding it as she shrugged. "Sure."

Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes and wished that she didn't have to return to school so quickly. It was only a little over a week, after all, since the accident. She wished people would've been a little more sympathetic, but she also liked how nobody in the house tried interrogating her about it, or mentioned it at all. Like they were used to it. Like they knew how it felt.

And maybe they did. After all, this was a home for children who didn't have parents, so Maka could only guess that they knew to leave it until she was ready. But the one thing that bothered her about this place was how it was so selective. She remembered having a friend who had lost her parents just like she did, but the girl was never sent to a place quite like this. It was a group home, sure, but not as luxurious or unique as what she saw here.

What makes me so special? Maka asked herself endless times. Then again, would losing her parents and being forced to attend this place and an apparently challenging academy be considered special? Perhaps not.

"Do you want to stay home today?" a voice asked quietly by her head.

Maka instantly spun around to see Kid standing behind her chair with a worried expression on his face. She shook her head.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "If you don't feel ready to face school right now, we'd all understand. In fact, it'd make us feel a lot less intimidated. Personally, I stayed home a week after arriving here in eighth grade before I came out of my room." He laughed.

Beside her, Tsubaki smiled. "I remember that. You were such a spoiled brat back then, Kid. Whiny and annoyingly arrogant."

"Seriously?" Maka couldn't imagine this boy, so calm and collected and seeming much more mature that her, as anything else.

"I was a pretty rotten child," Kid admitted with a grin.

"That's hard to believe."

His smile widened. "Thanks. So it's up to you when you feel like going."

"I think I'm ready." And it was true. She had spent three days straight after learning the tragic news cooped up in her loaned room before hunger took over and she chased after food in the small home she had been stuck in before she came to the Star house. It should've been natural, Maka knew, to mourn for her deceased parents, but part of her wanted to move on. A few days later, hard as it was, she had emerged fully from her room with tear-stained cheeks and no smile hinting on her pale lips.

This time, she wanted it to be different.

This time, she wouldn't cry in front of anybody.

Kid nodded. "That's good." Then he pointed at the door where a man dressed in white was rolling a large coaster of food to the side, and all the kids in the room got up to fill their plates. "Let's eat. I had Sid prepare a special vegetarian meal for you today."

Maka flushed, embarrassed. "No, that's alright. Just some toast with butter would've been totally fine; I'm not much of a breakfast person." At his frown, she quickly added, "But thanks for going to the trouble. I'm just not used to it, is all. What do you guys usually have for breakfast?"

"We," Liz said, pushing herself out of her chair, "eat eggs and sausages. I'm sure Sid prepared some of his awesome pancakes for you."

"Bingo," Kid chuckled. He led the way to join the long line of ravenous teenagers, the four girls just a step behind them. "Blueberry, to be exact."

"Then how could I possibly resist?"

Maka rocked back on her heels as they waited patiently for the line to move. She was faintly aware of the others ahead of them throwing glances of their shoulders, probably scrutinizing her horrible fashion sense and lack of makeup. Compared to everyone else's perfect wardrobe, Maka felt like Raggedy Anne to their Barbie Doll.

Liz shifted her weight and clipped her eyes ahead of them as if she were just tired and incredibly bored, but Maka could tell by the way everyone quickly averted their attention elsewhere that the low sound had something to do with it. The way her friends were trying to be subtle in keeping the attention off her made Maka smile.

But her interest was short lived when Liz turned back and wrinkled her nose in disgust at Maka, who had to roll up her unwinding sleeve again. "What are you wearing? That sweater looks at least five sizes too big, and those jeans are probably older than you!"

She merely shrugged, unnerved by the insult. "It's all I have."

Her expression softened slightly as Maka took a small step, the line moving in a slow but progressing pace. Then Liz put a hand up in the air as if to command all attention on her as she announced fruitfully, "Fine, but we'll have to take you shopping soon. I can't one of my friends looking like that."

She scoffed. "Thanks."

"No problem, dear!" Liz waved her hand in a way that made Tsubaki laugh.

"You look like a ballerina, Liz."

"And you, Miss Tsubaki, look like a sinful angel." She gestured towards Tsubaki's fitting attire, consisting of a flowy white sundress, which was truly angel-like, the only thing ruining it being the studded leather jacket thrown over top.

Kid looked offended. "I got her that jacket for her birthday last summer."

Patty poked Tsubaki's shoulder playfully. "I, for one, think it compliments her well. 'Baki needs a little more danger in her look—can you really imagine her wearing that—" She shuddered exaggeratedly. "—thing she bought at the market last weekend?"

Now it was Tsubaki who frowned. "Hey, I thought it was cute."

"It looked like something my grandmother would've made," Patty said. "Y'know, if I had a grandmother, that is."

"You guys are so judgmental," Tsubaki said scornfully, but she was smiling. "Come on, load your plate so we can eat and not be late for school. You guys know that Azusa isn't going to wait for us if we aren't there at exactly seven thirty."

"Azusa's our chauffeur," Liz said to Maka. "She takes us to and from school, although we have to be on the dot or she leaves without us."

"We leave at seven thirty? But doesn't school start at half past eight?"

She shook her head. "Nope! At Shibusen, we start at eight sharp."

"Here's all that 'at Shibusen' stuff again," Maka muttered, using her fork to stab a few blueberry pancakes onto her plate. "One minute you guys say it's a hell load of fun, and the next it sounds like a complete prison. I don't know what to believe, though I definitely know which one I'd prefer."

Kid frowned at the other three girls. "You guys have been telling her stories, haven't you?"

Patty pilled scrambled eggs all over her plate. "We haven't spilled the deets on the time you accidentally sent a boy into a coma during a soccer game if that's what you mean." She paused and grinned widely. "Okay, so maybe we did."

"That's not what I meant," Kid insisted, but Maka noticed the prick of red on the back of his neck. "And it was an accident."

"Didn't I say it was?"

Liz and Patty laughed and pushed past the boy, who was blushing wildly, so they could get to the sausages. Maka held in the reflex to gag—she's been a vegetarian ever since she was a little girl after learned the animal cruelty used to grow the animals quickly only to use them as meat later, and had learned to hate the smell of greasy meats.

Following Liz and Patty as they headed back to their seats, Maka noticed how the Japanese girl stayed behind everyone slightly. Tsubaki patted Kid lightly on the back before passing him in the line as well. "Kid, it wasn't a big deal," she assured softly. "Fill the rest of your plate and meet us back at our spot, alright?"

Maka hid a smile and hurried after the other girls.

Turned out, they weren't exaggerating when they said their chauffeur waited for no one. Maka and the others had made it into the long limo—yes, limo—on time with their backpacks (she had received one from the girls filled with colorful supplies and a few copies of their latest notes, which she had repeatedly thanked them for), but unfortunately, three of the seniors hadn't.

"Don't worry about them," Tsubaki had told her, "they know the rules. If they choose to stay back a few minutes, they would also have a backup ride to school."

So she tried to comply.

And she set her watch a few minutes ahead, just in case.

Sitting beside Liz and Patty and across from Tsubaki and Kid, Maka felt slightly more comfortable that she would have four friends in her grade that could help her if she needed it—not that they hadn't assisted her countless times already. She'd only been there a day and already she had such great friends.

Then again, she also apparently had an enemy.

Kim, she had been told, and the cat-eyed girl beside her—Jacqueline, she remembered—were the only two others in their grade. Seven out of twenty-one being juniors like her should have been comforting odds, but even with the others beside her, Maka still felt self-conscious under Kim's not-so-kind stares from the other side of the row.

She just kept quiet with her gaze glued to the floor.

"We're here!"

The limo swerved and Maka clutched the seat, waiting for a crash, when she realized that no one else was worried and the vehicle came to an abrupt stop.

"Azusa's a pretty rough driver," Tsubaki whispered to her. "You'll get used to it."

"I hope so," she murmured back, clutching the strap of her bag over her shoulders and climbing out of the shiny black door behind them. The cool air hit her as soon as she was out of the heated limo, making her shiver. Compared to Florida, this place was much colder.

"Welcome to Shibusen Prep Academy!" Patty exclaimed, linking her arm through Maka's and pulling her along away from the speedy vehicle. "So what do you think of this ah-mazing school?"

She rolled her eyes, but let herself be dragged along. "Patty, I've barely seen any of it, and classes hadn't even started." Then Maka stopped mid-step and gawked at the building that loomed over her. It was freakin' huge. If she ever thought the Star mansion was big, this school would quickly erase it. The place was at least ten times bigger than her old school, and the student count was obviously large judging by the amount of cars filing into the huge parking lot and all the students walking up to the main building.

"Wow…"

Kid nudged her with his elbow. "I'm guessing you like it?"

"It's huge," she breathed.

"I know, right?" Tsubaki laughed softly as she looked over the perfectly manicured grounds as if it were her very first day, too. "Just wait until you see the inside. You'll love it."

"This town is crazy," Maka said, shaking her head. "Absolutely crazy."

Patty started to tug her along again, giggling like a little girl as she tried to—unsuccessfully—get Maka to skip along with her. "Come on, Kitten, lighten up! Sure, it's a little nerve racking on your first day, but what could possibly go wrong?"

"Oh, God, don't ask that question!" she groaned. "That's what somebody always says in the movies before something goes completely wrong!" The moment everyone burst out laughing at her profession, Maka flushed with embarrassment, realizing too late how ridiculous that sounded.

"You believe in that stuff?" Kid asked, an unmistakable amusement in his tone. "I didn't take you for the movie stereotype kind of person."

Maka huffed and let a few strands of her blond hair fall into her face, praying that her cheeks weren't as red as the warmth she felt indicated. "My parents and I used to have Scary Movie Fridays, all right? I've been raised on movie stereotypes. Dad was the biggest believer." There was a sudden pause and she realized that they were probably waiting for her to burst into tears or something, but it honestly felt good to remember her parents in that way so she shrugged and asked, "What?"

Patty laughed harder. "Aw, that's so funny! No, don't look at the ground—I really think it's awesome that you're into scary movies. It's cute."

"Yay," she said blandly. "Cute."

Liz latched onto Maka's other arm. "I bet that if you told a guy that, he'd totally love you for it. A girl who can withstand a horror film is a total turn on." She flicked her gaze to Kid and grinned wickedly. "Dontcha think, Kid?"

Since he had been watching Maka carefully ever since her declaration, it took Liz a few waves in front of his face to catch his attention. He blinked. "Uh, sorry, what did you say?"

"I take that as a yes!" Patty and Liz both squealed and dragged Maka faster ahead, ignoring Kid's protests and the stares they were receiving from all the passing bystanders. Everyone in a fifty foot radius could hear the two girls' screams and Maka ducked her head even though she should've been used to being under questioning observations.

She tugged on her friends' arms, trying to slow down their quick jumping. "Shh! People are staring!"

"Maybe it's because you look like a doll, hon," Liz cooed.

"Absolutely adorable," Patty agreed, reaching out to pinch her cheeks.

Maka dodged the offending hands and scanned the school ground quickly. A group of girls waved to her—she smiled shyly back and gave a small wave in return before picking up her pace to fall in line with the others. Behind her, she could hear Kid discussing something quietly with Tsubaki.

The sun was shining, the air was crisp. Maka's wrists were shackled with Patty and Liz's fingers and she had to fight the urge to roll up her sleeves again in a nervous action as the stone path to the school's main doors seemed to drag on forever. Her eyes never strayed from the gray grounds.

She let out a sigh of relief as soon as they made it into the school. She couldn't remember a time she'd ever been so nervous—and to be completely honest, Maka knew she wasn't exactly the boldest girl alive. But even though having her friends by her side was the only thing that encouraged her to keep walking, she knew that they'd have to part sometime.

"I'm gonna head over to pick up my schedule from the main office," Maka announced as soon as Tsubaki and Kid caught up. "If I don't have any classes with you first block, I'll see you at lunch?"

"Brave girl," Liz praised. "Offering to go through the academy of doom on your own—stupid, but brave."

"Okay, now you're starting to scare me."

Kid laughed. "She's trying to. Don't worry; the only scary thing about Shibusen is that you'll get lost a lot—especially in the first few weeks. Actually, I'd advise you not to go anywhere at all without one of us with you. We might never find you again."

She dismissed his comment. "I'll be fine."

"Maybe, but I'll walk you to the office at least," Kid said, slinging his pack farther over his shoulder. "I don't want you being late for your first day of classes because you don't even have a map of the school."

Maka smiled appreciatively at him. She was actually relieved to not have to run around such a big school with no direction by herself. "Thanks."

He shrugged and turned to the other girls. "I'll see you in calc." To Maka, he asked, "Ready?" She nodded, gave a little wave to the other girls, and followed him as he led the way.

After a few minutes walking side by side down the wide hallways, Maka immediately regretted allowing Kid to escort her. Sure, she had been under constant surveillance the moment she stepped on school grounds, but being seen with him seemed to just increase the number significantly. Girls went out of their way to say hi to him and flash flirty smiles he didn't even register, and a few guys came up to chat him up about the next 'game.'

When he told them he was busy showing Maka around, she felt like a frog under a microscope—girls glared and the guys probably wondered why Kid was with such a plain-looking girl.

One thing Maka was absolutely positive of was that he was popular. Another was that he didn't even realize it.

She was more comfortable about the second thing.

"This is one of the ninth grade science labs," Kid provided as they walked by a closed door labeled with a bunch of letters and numbers, then he pointed to another door marked the same way. "This room is for tenth graders; it's mostly just one of the free rooms used for analytical studying."

"I have a question." Maka lowered her voice to a whisper as soon as everyone around craned their necks at the sound of her voice. "Why aren't they just labeled 'science room' or 'math room' or whatever? What's with all the numbers and such?"

He paused. "Shibusen just—"

"Oh, never mind; I get it now," she muttered, causing Kid to bellow a laugh.

"This is just an extremely high standard school—admission is tight and selection is picky. It may look like it has a lot of students, but that's only because it admits from all over the world, not just the US. Everyone applies, but you're only so lucky to get in."

"Really? How come I've never heard of it before?" Maka wondered aloud. "Wait a second, how did I get in then? I didn't even apply!"

"You didn't have to," a girl snorted as she passed. Maka slapped a hand over her mouth belatedly, and a couple of snickers ran through the hallway.

"What did she mean I didn't have to?" she whispered.

Kid cupped a hand over his mouth exaggeratedly and said, "Since you're now a part of the Star family, it automatically gives you an acceptance to Shibusen. Don't ask why. There are just a few people who can be admitted without having to excel in anything at all. We were all like that."

"But that doesn't seem fair."

"It's not," he agreed, but didn't go into any details. He didn't offer any more info on the undeniably abstruse concept of why being a part of this particular foster home made them special amongst all the other students. So Maka remained silent too and avoided catching any more attention than she already received.

She was starting to believe what her friends had said when they told her that going off by herself in the school would be a complete and utter mistake. It took more turns than she bothered to count, stares from every hall they passed through, many doors with complicated labels, and scarily identical hallways before Kid finally stopped and said, "This is the main office."

"Thank God," she breathed. "I was starting to think you were leading me around in circles. How exactly did you manage to memorize this building again?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I came here in eighth grade."

Maka frowned in confusion. "Eighth grade? But isn't this a high school?"

"Yes, but like I said, we're exceptions. I just took a few classes in advance, is all. But, yeah, I've been here since I was thirteen."

That was a little strange. "Really? What if someone came when they were, say, I dunno, smaller? Like grade three small. Wouldn't they go to some other elementary school around here instead?"

Kid held the door open to signal her in, and the change in air temperature seemed so anticlimactic it was almost bizarre how a small snow figure could stay frozen from its post on the secretary's desk. Was it fake? Maka couldn't be sure—the thing glistened in a way that made her think it wasn't.

Then it turned its circular head around winked a small black eye at her. She froze, but neither Kid nor the woman behind the desk seemed to notice it, so Maka wondered if it was maybe just a figment of her imagination.

Kid shook his head. "No. Even if they're really young, Az still registers them to attend classes here at Shibusen, just more private and unique lessons. I'm not exactly sure what they do here, but you can ask Tsubaki. After all, she's been here since she was eight."

At the last school she had gone to before, Maka tried not to attract any attention to herself. She laid low, didn't talk to very many people, didn't make any eye contact at all, and tried to keep to herself in class except when the teacher called for her answer. She had honestly not wanted any attention—and most of the time she got that wish.

But that did not seem like the case at Shibusen.

Math, room 3205-A6-419, was her homeroom. To be completely ingenuous, Maka was not a fan of math. At all. Numbers didn't like her, and the feeling was completely mutual. That it had to be the first class of the day made her feel like God was trying to punish her for not abiding her mourns longer.

It just doesn't feel like they're really gone.

And added to the fact that every single living being in the huge setup whirled around to glare openly at her as soon as she walked through the door, Maka felt that it was safe to say that her first day wasn't going very well.

"Sorry," she mumbled to the teacher, her cheeks aflame under the non-subtle stares from all directions, even though she was exactly five minutes early. Were they seriously so overachieved that they had to look down on whoever didn't arrive as early as they did?

After picking up her schedule from the semi-scary woman behind the desk in the main office, Kid had compared her first semester classes to his and the other three girls and notified that the only class they had together was last-period English. It wasn't exactly a happy revelation.

He had offered to walk her to her first class, but since his advanced calculus with Tsubaki and Patty was on the exact opposite side of campus, Maka didn't want him to be late because of her so she sent him of his way. It took her ten minutes and about a million glances at the map of the school to lead her to the right room, but finally, she had made it.

Completely attached? She wasn't so sure.

Maka blushed shyly, moving around a white-haired boy who had his legs stuck out into the middle of the isle, eyes closed, and slipped into an empty seat in the back corner beside the window. She started pulling a thick notebook out of her bag and was relieved when she heard the teacher clap for the class's attention to the front and away from her.

But her relief quickly fled when the man proclaimed, "I'm sure you've all noticed that we have a new student today." There was a snicker from the class as he continued, "Why don't you come up in front of the class and introduce yourself, little miss in the back?"

The sadistic bastard!

She made a small noise and leaned back in her chair. "Do I have to?"

This time even the teacher's lips quirked up. "Yes."

Groaning, she pushed herself up, quipped, "My name's Maka Albarn," before plopping back down as quick as she could possibly move. The class's rumbling laughs seemed almost ten times louder than they actually were, bouncing off the thick, soundproof walls and ringing in her ears like a bell. "No need to laugh," she mumbled under her breath, and by the way everyone kept with their laughter, she knew no one heard it.

"Enough, class!" the teacher ordered, immediately silencing them. "We've wasted enough time here—get into your seats and open to a fresh page. We have a long note today before I have to leave for a meeting. You'll have the rest of the period to work on the homework."

In her chair, Maka waited for the sound of cheers or moans or whatever—anything in reaction to the teacher's semi-good news, but the class stayed silent and so did she. It was weird, though; at her other school, the children were so rudely behaved and free-willed that it almost made the class fun. The kids here complied without so much of a sigh.

Doing exactly as her teacher instructed, Maka held back a smile at the notes neatly scribbled across the first few pages of her math notebook. Maybe even more than a few—it seemed as if every lesson since school had started was rewritten on the blue lined pages, in a script so neat that it was almost hard to believe. Would they really go to so much trouble to make sure that she didn't fall behind?

She found a better question: Did they really want her to stay so much?

At the time, it seemed so significant to find the answer to that question, as if everything else was so simple that she couldn't find another problem to stress over. Later she would realize how wasted that concern was.

As the teacher—Mr. Brocker, as he introduced himself—went swiftly through the lesson, Maka realized that she actually was well prepared for the courses. When they had been constantly moving, Maka missed lots of school so her mother would fill in the gaps with her own extended lessons. Maka had repeatedly complained that she would never need to know how to calculate the square root of a rational number in her life, but now she was proven wrong.

Turns out, there was a teacher evil enough to assign an entire worksheet on it. With several assigned textbook questions and not a single extra explanation for the new girl, Mr. Brocker left twenty-two overly capable teenagers to work in silence.

It was almost scary how quiet her classmates were. They all immediately went to work without any questions, completely focused on the task at hand. As Maka glanced around the room, she found that only one student wasn't working as furiously as the others besides herself.

He was the boy who had been sleeping when she first came in. It was so obvious he wasn't taking any measures to hide his nap, and for some reason the teacher hadn't called him out on it. No one did. Still asleep, the boy's lean frame was stretched out, legs blocking the aisle and hands laced behind his head. With his stark white hair and black leather jacket, he looked like the typical bad boy in all of the teen movies she had watched before.

As if sensing her gaze, his eyes snapped open and turned to meet hers. Maka nearly jumped five feet in the air, stopped only by the instinct to avoid embarrassment, because his gaze was so fierce for someone who had just woken up. The red irises were vibrant and clear, almost soul-sucking. She dropped her head, her study sheets suddenly becoming very interesting to her.

But she could still feel him watching her. The rest of the long hour droned on and on, and although Maka tried to keep as focused on her work as her classmates, she couldn't do anything without feeling self-conscious under the angry boy's scrutiny.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…

Ring!

"Oh, thank God," Maka breathed. She shoved her books into her bag and slung it over her shoulder, eager to rush out of the room. She was nearly the first one out when someone grabbed her roughly by the shoulder and yanked her back. Yelping, she dropped her bag and shot her hands out to catch herself, but the strong hand held her up before she could hit the ground.

The other students in her class shot her a look on their way out, but none of them stopped to stare. They seemed to be in a rush to get out of there. The room was completely empty when the hand released her and she could move again.

Bruises purpled on her arm but she refused to recognize the pain as she spun to glare at the person who had grabbed her. It was the sleeping red-eyed boy.

"What do you want?" she said between her teeth.

A moment passed. Maka opened her mouth to speak again, impatient with his silence, but he cut her off. "Who said I want something?"

"Why else would you have grabbed me like that?" she retorted, already grabbing her backpack and inching towards the door. Controlling her anger seemed near impossible around this boy. His indifferent expression and bored stance was just so irritating. "Are you going to say something or can I go and not be late for my next class?"

For a split second, a flicker or emotion flashed across the boy's face. Then it was gone before she could determine what it was. "I'm irritating you," he observed slowly and Maka nearly growled.

"Yes, and enjoying it too!"

"You're ridiculous."

"And you're annoying," Maka said impatiently. The clock was ticking behind her and he wasn't letting her forget it. "Can you please just tell me what you want so I can get to class before the bell rings? I'd rather not be late on my first day. Avoiding attention is hard enough without interrupting a lecture."

He shrugged, abruptly bored. Something dark flashed in contrast to the pale skin on his neck—a tattoo? "I just wanted to see what all the hype was about. Everyone has been talking about the new girl all morning." His eyes glazed over her and she shivered. "You're not exactly what I expected."

Her cheeks flamed. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but he was already pushing past her, halfway out the door when she regained her ability to speak. "Wait!" she called. "You know who I am. At least tell me your name. You owe me that much."

"I don't owe you anything," he said without turning around. And then he was gone.

Maka stood frozen staring at the doorway. Flushed with anger and embarrassment, she could only clench her fists and wonder what the heck his problem was.

The bell rang.

"Well, you look like you had a great first day."

Maka groaned and dropped her forehead to the table. "Kill me now."

Patty grinned. "That bad?"

"That bad," she confirmed.

"Gonna tell me what happened?"

"I'd rather not."

"If that makes you feel better."

"It doesn't."

"So you're okay?"

"I never said that."

"Geez, Kitten, you're killing me! Was it really that bad?"

She didn't answer. It was lunchtime and Maka was sitting at a table in the cafeteria with Patty while the rest of the gang lined up to buy food. Patty claimed to not be hungry, saying that she had eaten an entire cake during her history class for one of her classmates' projects, and opted for a can of pop. Maka had just lost her appetite completely.

After her petty encounter with that red-eyed boy, Maka had been late for second period science. The teacher had only given her a stern look before continuing with her lesson, ignoring the new girl completely; with the students, Maka hadn't been so lucky. She had been on the receiving end of many glares for the rest of the class. It was safe to say that her nerves were rightfully earned.

"You know, your first day shouldn't have been that bad," Patty commented lightly. "If it was, just tell me and I'm sure we can work it out so no one will bother you anymore."

"I wish," Maka mumbled.

"It's true. One benefit of being a part of the Star family is that nobody can really blame you for anything. You can skip class every once in a while if you don't feel like going. You can fail and still not be kicked out. Hell, you can sleep in the middle of class, snoring like a bear, and the teacher won't be able to say a thing."

Maka frowned. Minus the 'snoring like a bear' part, that red-eyed guy had been doing the same act of rebellion. "That doesn't seem fair," she said, feeling a slight sense of déjà vu. "We get into this school without application and don't even have to try to stay? And everyone else has to work their butts off to even attend?"

"Yup." Patty popped her bubble gum and smiled. "It's strictly a no-pressure system. No one here really bothers us if we don't want to be bothered."

"Again: unfair. Why do we get special treatment just because we live in the Star house?" And is having constant stares on my back considered 'not bothering'? she added silently.

Shrugging, Patty sipped her Coke and glanced to the side the exact moment their other three companions arrived at the table. "Hey, guys!"

"Patty." Kid nodded and smiled, taking the seat to her left. "Maka."

"How's your first day going?" Liz asked. When Maka groaned, her eyebrows shot up. "Something happen?"

"She won't say," Patty piped in, stealing a few fries of Tsubaki's plate. "Something big, I'm guessing, if it's enough to make our Kitten depressed."

"Did you tell her—"

"That we could kick the asses of anyone who bothers her again? Yeah, I did."

Kid frowned. "Not in those exact words though, right?"

"Relax, Kid. I only explained a few privileges of being a Star girl."

He cocked his head to the side. "Is it that bad then?"

"It's not." Maka sighed. "I'm just being overdramatic, I guess. I ran into this really rude guy who made me late for chemistry, and then I had to sit there for an entire hour playing the bug under a microscope."

"Really rude guy?" Liz and Patty echoed simultaneously.

"White hair, red eyes, supernatural ability to piss me off with less than three words," she replied, and looked up in time to see the look passed between all of the members of the table. "What?"

Tsubaki was the one to speak, and when she did her voice was worried. "It would have to be Wes, right? There's no way—"

Liz shook her head. "Wes is in my first period. There's no way he could've been in hers."

"But that means…"

"Was he wearing all black and probably a leather jacket, not bothering to pay attention to the lesson?" Patty asked Maka. "Maybe even sleeping?"

"Yes?"

"Soul," they all said at once.

Maka was confused. "What—"

"His name is Soul Evans," Liz explained. "He's from the Reaper house. Our rival house."

"We have a rival house?"

"Yes." Her response was clipped, like she was holding back what she was going to say at the last minute. "Long-time rivals and all that. They attend Shibusen, too, and have the same privileges as we do. They just don't like us very much and the feeling is mutual." Liz forced a smile. "I suggest you avoid anyone who's a Reaper; they're all bad news."

"Wait, what's all this with a rivalry? I just got here and I don't exactly feel comfortable with having enemies."

"Enemies," Patty mused. "Nice word choice."

She didn't take the bait. "Who are the Reapers?"

"When you say it like that, you make us sound like prey." Liz leaned forward to prop her elbows on the table, her gaze excruciatingly serious. Maka was immediately wary. "Do you know that forest behind our house? The one in front of your bedroom window?" Maka nodded. "Yeah, well on the other side of that is where the Reaper house is. It's a group home just like ours but they don't think the same way we do. While we try our best to live up to Az's expectations—"

"With the exception of a few spontaneous disruptions," quipped Patty.

Liz ignored her. "—the kids of the Reaper house make it their personal game to be as rowdy as possible. If you think people are cautious enough around us, you should see them around the Reapers. They tend to wreak havoc and everyone has the smarts to ignore them."

"I never said I had smarts, but I think I'll try my best to stay away," Maka said. "That Soul kid didn't exactly set a great impression."

Tsubaki exhaled in relief. "That's good. I wish I could tell you how dangerous they are, but… There are really no words to explain it. I don't know why Soul would go out of his way to bug you, though. He's usually not the one to…" She shook her head, as if dismissing a thought. "Please understand, Maka. We don't want you to get hurt."

"Okay." She paused. "But how am I supposed to know who to avoid? If they have as many kids as the Star house does, compared to the wide range of student alumni there aren't exactly many. I don't have a built-in radar that deters me away from creepy rivals that I've never met before."

"That's easy," said Patty. "They're the only ones here who dare to stand up to the teachers besides ourselves. So if you don't recognize the kid who back-talks in class as one of our housemates, then it's almost definitely a Reaper. Or if they pick on you, for that matter. Chances are that they'll know you're one of us—those snarky asses will be the ones you weed out."

"Also, their eyes." Liz looked meaningfully at her, but Maka failed to understand. "The eyes of any Reaper are bound to be like ours. Bright. Colorful. Unusual." She gestured to her pale orbs for emphasis.

"But you shouldn't have to worry about that," Tsubaki quickly added. "They know better than to torment a newbie. It's against the rules."

Before Maka could ask for an elaboration, Patty said, "Basically you're untouchable. The Reapers shouldn't bother you while you're new here, but they are the only ones to intentionally bother us. The regulars wouldn't dare."

"So what do you call all this staring?" Maka asked, gesturing her hand around the cafeteria where most of its students were facing their table.

"This, my dear, is called admiration."

"Looks more like contempt to me."

Tsubaki laughed. "They're always like that when there's a new kid."

"Especially a Star child," Liz added.

"They want to know if you're worthy," Kid put in cheekily.

"Worthy? Wow, I guess I failed that test."

All four teenagers burst out laughing at her expense and it took all she had to keep from joining in. These people were so nice to her—much more so than Maka had ever known. Even though she had just learned she had adversaries that weren't even hers to start with, she couldn't help but think that maybe her new friends could make it worth it.

Maybe, for once in her life, Maka could belong.

"You're so ridiculous," Liz said, but not without affection.

"Yes, absolutely, totally, and ridiculously cute!" Patty threw her arms around the girl's neck, and Maka squealed in alarm as they nearly fell over.

"Patty!" She struggled uselessly to get out of her death grip, gripping the edge of the table to keep from tumbling off the bench. Patty continued to gush the most absurd compliments, oblivious to Maka's discomfort and flaming cheeks—or maybe just enjoying it. "That's it!" She managed to duck her head free and was on her feet. "I'm gonna go get ready for class."

"But we still have ten minutes—"

Kid cut her off with a deep laugh. "Patty, you're strangling her. Just let her go." Patty pouted but sat back down. Turning to Maka with an understanding smile, he said, "We'll meet you in English at the end of the day. If you get lost or need our help with anything at all, go ahead and page us from any council room."

We can page students? She opened her mouth to ask but then closed it, deciding that she'd rather not know. They already had so many jurisdictions that she was almost positive she would never use. No need to add another to the list. With one last wave, Maka fled the room, acutely aware of all the eyes on her back.

By the time she rounded the second corner, she had already pulled out her map. It was ridiculous how big this school was—Maka had heard stories about getting lost on their first day before, but at this rate she wasn't going to be walking around without a map for weeks!

I have drama next in the theatre, Maka noted mentally. Now where's that? The halls were already starting to fill with overachieving highschoolers and she had to stick close to the walls to match the complicated rooms to the numbers on her schedule. She had been so preoccupied with her comparing that she didn't realize she had entered a deserted hallway until the silence caught her ears.

Oh, crap. She glanced down at the map and realized that she had no clue where she was. Frantically, Maka searched the empty hall and spotted a staircase on the end. Maybe she would have more luck on the second floor. With that thought in mind, she bolted and flew up the steps—

—and ran right into a wall. A huge, towering wall of flesh.

"Sorry, sorry!" she blurted, glancing up to the towering figure. It was a boy, at least a head taller than her with the same white, disheveled hair as Soul. But just when she thought it might've been him, only with a wardrobe change, she noticed his eyes.

They were dark. Not the bright, almost luminous red that Soul's eyes were, but a deep crimson.

The color of blood.

A Reaper, she automatically concluded. He wasn't from the Star house; she would have remembered him. Even if his eyes didn't give him away, his rudeness would have. The other students may have been extremely aware of her and Soul might've been intense, but this boy's stare was downright disrespectful.

"Like what you see?" he said lowly, a smirk on his lips. Maka's cheeks colored. She had been staring… again.

"There's nothing to see," she retorted, immediately hating him. He was the type of guy she knew well back at all her other schools. Cocky. Arrogant. Hot and completely aware of it. When she had been the new girl before, she had attracted many of them because she was fresh meat. A shiny new toy that they all wanted to have. All she wanted to do was hide in her books.

The Soul lookalike caught her arm when she tried to move past him. "Wait, you're the new girl, aren't you? The one everyone's talking about?"

"That's none of your business," she said, trying to pull away but his grip was tight. Knowing that he wasn't going to let her go anytime soon, Maka tilted her chin up defiantly and spoke with acid. "Let me pass. The bell's going to ring soon, and I've already been late once today thanks to one of you."

He looked amused. "How do you know he was my friend?"

"Because you're just as annoying as he was!" Maka yanked roughly on her hand and was rewarded with a sharp stab of pain in her wrist. But he let go, mirth dancing in his deep red eyes.

"You know, a Shibusen girl shouldn't be so unladylike to a guy who's just trying to help her."

A daring brow shot up. "Help me? Is that what you're doing?"

The boy grinned devilishly and leaned down, his rough cheek brushing against hers. She was completely rigged as he whispered, "Not yet. But I'm sure I can help you in more ways than one." Maka barely had time to catch another infuriating smirk grace his lips before he pressed them against her own.

Her eyes went wide. He was kissing her! She had no clue who he was, no idea what he wanted, and although she was sure that he knew no more about her than she did about him, this boy had the audacity to claim her lips like his own!

Maka didn't even think. She just shoved against the boy's chest and sent him stumbling back against the wall, his eyes widening more from surprise than pain. Anger burnt in her chest like she had never felt it.

"Leave me alone," she snarled. "If you think I'm interested in you, then get your head screwed on straight because it obviously isn't yet. And leave my friends alone too, while you're at it. Whatever it is that you and your friends do, I want no part of it and I doubt any of them do either. You're just a spoiled bastard." Then she pushed past him and started quickly up the stairs again.

She barely made it up three steps before the boy's hand clamped down on her shoulder and slammed her against the wall. The railing dug into her back and her shoulder hit the bricks with a force strong enough to knock the breath from her, the gasp sounding strangled. He was in front of her, face positioned in front of her shocked expression. Crimson eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and hatred, the boy growled and pushed harder against her shoulder, extracting another painful gasp from Maka's lips. It hurt so much that it almost felt as if his touch was burning her.

"Don't talk like you know me," he growled ferociously. A wave of power accompanied his words, burning hot like acid as it rippled under her skin. Maka tried to cry out, but it was as if every organ in her body had been paralyzed and she couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak.

Then he was gone and nothing was left to hold Maka up.

She collapsed like a doll. All energy just left and her legs failed her, sending the small blonde tumbling ungracefully down several steps to the lower landing. Hitting the ground with loud thud, a cry finally ripped itself from her throat and it was a horrible sound. The pain came at once, sharp and overwhelming and Maka bit down hard on her tongue to keep the next scream in.

Tears sprung in her eyes and her breathing hitched. Her paralysis did nothing to lessen the agony. Every time she tried to get up, a sharp pain would shoot through her shoulder and the ground would close in again. Then there was the fire—the bright, burning fire that ignited in her chest with a growing intensity so hot that she could barely breathe. Maka writhed on the floor, praying that someone would walk through the empty staircase soon and help her get rid of this torture.

But she knew the chances were unlikely. Sometime after that boy had attacked her, the bell had rung and all students were in class. If this hallway was unimportant enough to be deserted during the student rush, then it definitely wouldn't be subject to company from anyone while class was in session.

Maka shut her eyes and tried to concentrate on breathing. In, out. In, out. She shifted to get up before her body gave out and she collapsed again. The pain was too much. She was too weak. Silently, she cursed herself for it; if only she was stronger. If only she could be resilient and persistent and able to push herself through it. But she wasn't. She couldn't.

That was the moment Maka vowed never to be weak again.

"Oh shit," a disembodied voice cursed above her, but she was too weak to care. Her vision wasn't her biggest concern now. "What the hell happened here?"

Something touched her arm and she whimpered. There was another curse.

"Hang on." The voice was familiar somehow, deep and alluring but Maka couldn't recognize it. All she could register was that he was male and he was there. "Can you do that? I'm going to get help; I don't think I can move you."

She couldn't even manage a nod.

"Hey," the boy said. It took her a second to realize he wasn't speaking to her, but into a phone probably. "It's Soul. Look, I—" There was a pause, then a sigh. "Yes, I know I don't use my cell often but this is an emergency. There's this girl and she's hurt and I think I know what happened." Pause. "No… No, she's—I see burn marks on her sleeve and I think her arm is broken." Another pause, then, "Yes, damn it! Why else do you think I'd be calling you, Anya?"

A sharp female voice shouted over the line.

"You know what, just get your ass over here and heal her," he interrupted sharply. "We're at stairway twelve, third floor." The clicking sound signified the phone closing and her savior knelt by her head. "Help's on the way. Don't worry."

Thank you. The words burned in her mind and she wanted more than anything to let them out. This person was rescuing her. This person was going to make the pain stop. This person was like her angel.

She remembered him now. Soul, he had said. The boy who had made her late for class the first time. The boy who looked exactly like the one who had hurt her. But now he was helping her and Maka couldn't find it in herself to hold a grudge. It was the actions people did in times of trouble that really mattered, her mother used to say.

After a few minutes of silence, the sounds of contrast between their breathing the only noises made, Maka could hear footsteps coming from around the corner.

"Okay, Soul, you better have a good reason for—oh my God." The feminine voice cut off with a gasp. "Is she okay? Her shoulder looks…"

"I think she dislocated it," Soul said. "And you see these marks?"

Another gasp. "No way. Nuh-uh. Why would he—"

"How the hell should I know? Just heal her already; I think she might've already passed out."

"It looks so painful…"

"No shit, Sherlock. That's where you come in. Look, can you heal her or not? I didn't want to interrupt you in class unless I thought it was an emergency. We can't move her, so it'd have to be here or we call Raum."

"I don't know, Soul," the girl—Anya—said defensively. "If he used his powers on her…" She let it trail off. Suddenly the voice was closer to Maka's head. "Even if I can, I can't take away all the pain. She's going to be sore for a while."

"You think I don't know that?"

Anya didn't reply to that, only placed a cold hand on Maka's forehead. "Poor girl. She's burning up." Then she murmured quiet words so softly that Maka couldn't catch them. But she didn't have the time to because all of a sudden her shoulder made a loud popping noise and a shriek burned in her throat.

Maka clenched her fists tightly to hold it back, fingernails piercing holes in her palm. Soul seemed to realize she was suppressing her scream because suddenly his voice was there, whispering calming and soothing words she couldn't comprehend. But his voice helped. The hand stroking her hair helped even more.

"It's done," Anya said quietly. "Her shoulder's back in place."

But the pain wasn't gone. Maka's eyes fluttered open, slowly adjusting to the high beams overhead and the two heads huddled close over hers.

"Am I alive?" she croaked.

Soul let out a breath and Anya looked relieved. The girl had long blond hair pushed back with a gold headband, a single colored streak tucked behind her ear. The pale pink matched perfectly to her rosy irises, which were unusually bright with black veins sparkling all over. Anya had an innocent face, pretty and sweet, but her prim outfit choices made her look like she belonged in another century.

"Of course. You just passed out." Concern etched Anya's face. "Are you okay? I… I had to pop your shoulder back in. You dislocated it. Does it still hurt? What am I saying? Of course it does! I'm so sorry! You must be in so much pain."

A fire burned deep inside her chest, warming with every second passing but Maka couldn't bring herself to say so. What right did she have? They were trying their best to help her—a stranger—but for this she knew they wouldn't be able to. This all-consuming fire couldn't be tamed. Worrying them would be selfish.

She swallowed thickly, and took a deep, painful breath. Two sets of eyes watched her every move so she forced a smile that came out more like a grimace. Soul mirrored her expression. Maka opened her mouth to say she was all right and tried to push herself off the floor. But her hand barely twitched.

"I—I—I can't move," she gasped. Maka struggled to get up, to lift her arm, to roll over, to do something but her body wouldn't obey. Panicking, she glanced between the two teenagers leaning over her but they were staring at each other. Anya's pink eyes were stricken and Soul was significantly pale.

"Do you think he did it? Do you think he actually used his ability on her? He knows he's not allowed to torment the new kids and especially not at school and oh God, if he did—"

"Anya, shut up and let me think." Soul rubbed his temples. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Raum's going to kill him for breaking the rules. That idiot." He stood then, determination set in his eyes. "We have to take her to Raum. He's the only one who can help her now."

"Soul—"

"What, do you want to just leave her here?" His eyes flashed.

Anya frowned. "Of course not. I just—"

"Just what? Want to take her to the nurse instead and try to explain why she's in a state of paralysis just because you don't want Raum to find out?" Soul glared, and the pink-eyed girl blinked. "She's hurt and it's our responsibility because one of ours was stupid enough to let his temper get out of control."

"N—"

"Raum's the only one who can heal her," he said as if she hadn't spoken. "We have to go now."

"Jesus, Soul, I was just going to say that I want to beat the crap out of Wes for hurting this girl!" she shouted. "Can I leave her with you? That little bastard thinks he's all that, and I can't wait to set him straight—"

His answer was immediate. "That's non-negotiable. You're coming with us."

Anya pursed her lips. Her bright eyes cast down to Maka who, even in her trauma, couldn't have been more confused. Then she stood also. "Okay. Pick her up carefully, Soul, and I'll call our driver. Meet you at the Main Gate in five." She smiled at Maka and touched her arm lightly as Soul hoisted her up like a baby. "You're going to be okay. I promise."

"She means well," Soul muttered when the girl was out of earshot. "Anya is a maniac when it comes to hurting other people, but she has a good heart. She just hates it. That's why Raum always keeps her back at home when he sends the others out to battle. She's great with healing."

Maka's eyes must have betrayed her confusion because the boy paused.

"What do you think you'll become? When you Change?" When Maka merely blinked, Soul muttered, "Right, because it's smart to ask a girl who's mortally injured a question that requires speaking. Sorry. I'm just… not in a good mood right now."

She watched him quietly as he walked down the empty halls. Doing so seemed to help her forget her pain. His strides were long and he had a startling grace about the way he moved, because she was barely jostled in his strong arms. Jaw taut, he opened his mouth several times as if to say something but closed it. Despite the circumstances, Maka wanted to smile. It was almost endearing, his discomfort.

"I don't know why," he said suddenly, "but I feel the need to talk to you. It's weird because I've never talked much before. There's something about you that feels different from the other Stars." He frowned as he pushed open a door to step outside. "And you must have some nerve, standing up to me and Wes like that when you aren't even sixteen yet. If you're going to survive here, you need to be smart to who you claim as your enemies. See where your big mouth got you?" Soul glanced down and his frown deepened. "Sorry. I'll shut up."

"No." Maka's voice broke. Her throat had never been so dry. "Please… don't stop talking."

His red eyes widened in mild surprise. She noticed how they sparkled in the sunlight, like bright ruby orbs under a jeweler's light. So pretty.

"Soul! Over here!"

Anya stood at the end of the path beside a long limo, waving her hands high over her head. Soul stiffened visibly, face flicking back to the emotionless void that Maka had come to hate. He sauntered over to the dark car and slid easily inside it, placing Maka gently on the seat next to him with Anya closing the door behind them.

"Something the matter?" Anya questioned, noting a slight trace of tension in the air.

Soul glanced over to Maka for a mere second before shrugging, leaning back into the sleek leather chairs in stiff boredom. "No. Let's go see the Big Boss."

Countless minutes later, the limo pulled up into an unfamiliar driveway leading to a mansion as large as the Star house. Maka was still fretting over the fact that her friends would be extremely worried about her when she didn't show up for English. Worry ate at her. It was her first day at school and she was already disappearing without a trace. Would these people allow her a phone call? Even if they did, how could she even begin to explain?

But then she didn't have time to imagine her friends' reactions because Soul carried her up the steps to a building that confirmed her darkest fears:

They were taking her into the Reaper house.

Oh, dear God.

Her panic seemed to make the fire in her chest grow. Maka gnawed on her bottom lip, trying to level her breathing to a normal pace. Her carrier took one look at her pained face and swore.

"She's getting worse." Anya's voice was worried. "Do you think she'll be okay? Do you think she can hear us? She looks so pale…"

Soul didn't answer. Instead, he kicked the door open and yelled, "Raum! We have an emergency!"

Silence answered them but Anya only cocked her head to the side, as if listening to a sound that nobody else could hear. "He's in the study room," she announced quietly, already leading the way. "Come on; he's waiting for us."

Before Maka could even think to question how the girl could have possibly known that, Soul carried her swiftly down a few strikingly familiar old-fashioned walls. Even though they were moving much too fast to see anything, Maka could see the resemblance that this place had to the Star house: the same Victorian theme, the same long hallways, the same maze-like interior that made her dizzy to look at. It was almost scary how alike the enemy houses were.

"There you are!" Anya exclaimed and rushed ahead.

A man in dark clothing looked up from his book. He sat in a chair at the back of the library-like room, tall book-filled shelves lining the walls and comfy couches spread amongst the clatter. He didn't look any older than thirty. His eyes seemed to be a pure gold—exactly the same shade as Kid's—and they locked on Maka at once, blank as an unused sheet of paper.

"You two are home early," he said simply; unsurprised. "School does not let out for another hour."

"I'm sorry, Raum. We'll make up for classes later but we had to get this girl to you as soon as possible." Anya looked back at Maka, still paralyzed in Soul's arms. "She's hurt. Wes—"

"Ah." Raum nodded. "Wes. I see that he has stirred up trouble once again. And from the looks of it, it seems that he has gone too far this time. I will have to talk to him when he returns home." He closed his book and laid it on a small table beside him and studied Maka carefully. If she could move, she was certain she would have shivered.

"Can you heal her or not?" Soul snapped suddenly, and the man actually looked up in mild surprise. But the reaction was gone as quickly as it had come, and he stood without acknowledging Soul's immediate anger further.

"It is a possibility." When the two teens looked ready to argue, Raum commanded, "Put her on the sofa." Reluctantly, Soul complied and then regretted it instantly when the bright-eyed man continued, "Now leave."

"Not a chance. You—"

"Do you want me to help her or not?" he returned smoothly. "Leave us for a moment. I need to speak with this girl alone before I can determine how bad her injuries are and whether it is in my power to help her."

Soul clenched his fists then unclenched them. When he spoke, his words were hard. "She can't even talk. How are you going to know what happened?"

"Well, I take it that you two know no more than I do? You were not there, were you?" Raum smiled tightly at their silence. "Wait in the kitchen. I will call you when I have done my part, and gathered what little information I need. That is an order, Soul. Anya, take your brother and keep him there; I will try my best here."

Brother? Maka thought in surprise. They were siblings? They looked nothing alike.

In fact, if Soul resembled anyone, it would be the boy who hurt her.

Anya glanced between the two males, one glaring and one indifferent, before linking her arm with Soul's. "Please do your best, Raum," she said quietly and, with one last reassuring smile to Maka, she disappeared in a flash. And took her brooding brother with her.

There was a moment of silence after a click sounded the door closing, but the air was not thick with discomfort. As if taking his sweet time, Raum collected his things and sauntered over to Maka's bedside with movements that were almost graceful. His gold eyes were as piercing as the sharpened blade of a knife.

"You are new?" he guessed. "And from the Star house, if I am correct?"

Swallowing dryly, she managed a squeak in confirmation.

"And judging from what I gather, you do not know what you are, do you?" Raum inquired, and Maka blinked at him blankly.

What I am? I'm human, aren't I? Her already barely coherent mind began to spin even more, confusing conclusions coming with his outrageous comment. Who was he to say that she didn't know what she was? Now that her parents were gone, she had to be the only one who did.

"Such ignorance in your eyes," Raum mused. "What a fool Azazel is, bringing in a girl who does not even know the nature of her own species. Should I enlighten you? Perhaps it is not worth the fury that your father will explicit; presumably, he had kept you blind for a reason."

My father is dead, Maka wanted to say, before realizing with a start that he'd meant Azazel—the man who owned their group home yet had not once came to see her. How could he possibly be her father when she didn't even know him? Nobody, especially not this man or any other, could replace her true father's place. Not now, not ever.

"But perhaps your ignorance will be dangerous," Raum continued, his voice thoughtful and wary. "It would be tedious to have my children to hide what they are, just because you do not know it. Azazel may be, but I am not that selfish." He paused, before nodding decidedly, as if the true decision had always been clear to him. "You must be the Albarn daughter. Well, how about I give you a little history lesson right here? About the Collections of precious treasures that my kind have been fighting for possession of for many years..."

"Fire," she forced out. This is not time for a history lesson, she started to say, but only the first two words made it out fairly recognizably. Damn. Her throat was getting drier by the second, her lungs more coated in the inferno that refused to stop eating at her chest. The last thing she needed was a lecture on past events. If she didn't get help soon, there was a chance that she wouldn't live to see the future.

A cool hand pressed against her forehead, whether to test her temperature or to stop her beating heart, Maka wasn't sure. But a cool wave of air seemed to flow through her like a current of medicine flowing through an IV tube, immediately calming her panic, and she found that she really didn't care. It felt like someone doused the flames with water.

When the hand lifted from her forehead, Maka could open her eyes with little difficulty. It was as if she was seeing the world again for the first time; the ceiling's intricate patterns were as clear as glass, the air no longer weighing down on her. She took in another deep breath, savoring the luxury of feeling her lungs fill with nourishing oxygen.

She would never take the ability to breathe for granted ever again. It felt so good.

"You are not completely healed," a voice said, breaking through her revelry. It was Raum, watching her with an expression that was carefully guarded. "You should not celebrate until you know the full severity of your condition."

"What condition?" Slowly, Maka pushed herself off the couch. She felt like she'd been immobile for days, her muscles were so sore. Tendons tightened when she stretched her arms over her head but the accompanied strain was much better than not moving at all, and it was definitely less painful than the pyre. When Raum said no more, Maka looked up in question.

He stayed absolutely still in front of her like a statue carved from perfect white marble, face still unreadable yet interest perked in every corner of his too-handsome face. It didn't look like anything would be able to move him.

"It's Raum, right? Your name," she added as if he didn't know. He didn't so much as nod. "I… Thank you. I'm not sure what you did or how you did it, but I just wanted you to know that I'm really grateful. Any longer with that pain and I would have… I don't know what I would've done. If there's anything I can do to repay you—"

"Putting yourself in my debt is a bad idea," Raum interjected, almost harshly. "If you are planning to survive in this world, then you must learn to have a little more common sense than that. I helped you purely because your affliction was against the rules. Believing anything more of me will make you naïve, and the naïve do not live long in war."

"I don't understand," said Maka, eyebrows furrowing.

"Of course you don't," he nearly scoffed. "There is not much you need to know other than the fact that you and I—we are enemies."

"Because you're part of the Reaper house?"

"No, because I am a Reaper. And Anya and Soul? They are Reapers too."

"But I already know that," responded Maka.

"Do you?" Raum turned away from her, sauntering over to the far wall to check the shelves. Maka shifted awkwardly on her foot as she waited for him to say something more. Instead of simply speaking, he plucked a book from the large collection and tossed it to her, and she hastily tried to catch it before it dropped to the ground.

"History of Gems," she read the title out loud then made a face. "I told you already, I don't want—"

"Another piece of advice, Maka?" Raum offered. It was the first time he'd said her name, and when he did it was almost mocking, like a boy in on his own joke. "Do not think for a second that what you want matters here. Azazel will make you believe that he is to be trusted, but that is only a cover."

"Then how do I know I can trust you?" she questioned.

A corner of his lip twitched. "That is a good question. Whether you believe me or not is up to you. Either way, I am giving you all of the facts."

"You speak really weird, you know that?" Maka observed. "Sometimes it's formal and sometimes it's not; I'm not sure if that's intentional or if you just don't have the natural tongue for it."

Ignoring her comment completely, Raum said, "Your blood is different from mine, but both of ours are unlike any mortal's. We are not sure how we came to be. We do not know who the first was or if there ever really was a first, but we know our purpose and honor our place. As long as we fulfill it, our reward remains great. Do you understand your purpose? Why you are here right now?"

"Umm," she started, "because one of your kids pushed me down a flight of stairs and you have some sort of magic touch?"

"No," he said impatiently. "You are here because we are in war."

"There you go again with this war stuff." Maka frowned at him. "But this can't be war. War is guns and weapons and brutal battles in the field; war is chaotic and dispute and doesn't exist between two group homes that live in each other's backyard. That can't be possible. My friends said that we don't like each other, but that can't amount to any more than a few petty verbal attacks."

Raum's eyes darkened. "Your assumptions will be the death of you." The words themselves were calm, but she could feel the threat layered underneath. No, it wasn't a threat. It was more like… a warning.

Abruptly, his eyes snapped to the door and he inclined his head thoughtfully. Then a grimly amused look lit up his features in a way that made Maka think that he looked better with no emotion at all. "Your friends are here," he said. "They have come to see if you are here."

Her eyes lit up. "They're here? Where?" Not waiting for an answer, Maka broke into a full run out of the room when something held her back with a colossal force. She swirled to face Raum but he was still standing on the opposite side of the room from her. "What—?"

"It would be best if you kept what happened to you today a secret," he advised stoically. "I cannot force you to but if you tell anyone from the Star house what Wesley has done then there will be grave consequences for all of us. I will punish him on my own terms, but to speak of his mistake to Azazel or the other Stars will be much worse for him and our home."

Wesley? Oh, the boy, she remembered. Crimson eyes, darker than Soul's. "What do you mean, 'the consequences will be grave'?" she quoted.

"Exactly that."

"That hardly makes any sense. How do you know there will be grave consequences?"

"This you will have to trust me on."

"But I'm not even sure what—"

"Keep this a secret and you will be saving his life; share his mistakes and you will be wishing him the worst. That is your decision. If you can live with his pain on your hands, then you can do whatever it is that you want." Raum shrugged. "He broke the rules and I agree that he should be penalized. I would not wish this on one of my children, but what has already happened is not mine to control."

"You're trying to guilt me into this," she realized, narrowing her eyes. "That's not fair."

"Life is not fair."

"That's cliché," she scowled.

"That is the truth."

"You can't expect me to lie to my friends," she said hardly. "This is only my second day and I'm not comfortable keeping secrets."

"Like I said, it is your decision, little girl." Before she could protest further, he continued, "Just know this before you decide: you are going to die. Right this very moment, you are slowly falling to your demise because I cannot fully heal you from what has already been unleashed. Wes has poisoned your soul. If you wish to condemn him for it, then I suggest you go straight to Azazel. I will not deny that, if I was in your shoes, that would be my choice."

"But you just said—"

"I know what I said. I am only laying out the truths for you."

"What are you implying?" she asked. "What are you? You can't be serious…"

"You already know the answer to that." Raum nodded towards the door. "Think about that. Your friends are waiting for you." Then he turned away from her and started searching through the shelves, clearly dismissing her. Maka clenched her fists and spun around to leave. Nothing held her back this time.

Having never had been there before, she had no clue where she was going but it was as if something was tugging at her mind and pulling her the way she needed to go. Call it intuition or some weird sense of direction, Maka didn't think about it too long because then she was at the front door.

And on her way there, she slipped Raum's book into her bag, out of sight. Somehow she knew her friends wouldn't approve and she wasn't sure what her decision was. She wanted to make it on her own, without influence, without pressure.

Soul had the door open, revealing a stiff Kid standing a full feet away from him. He was speaking lowly and swiftly. "Don't lie, Evans. We know that she's here—" He broke off when he spotted Maka coming around the corner and relief flashed across his face. "Maka! Thank God you're okay!"

"Why wouldn't I be?" She smiled at him as he pushed past the white-haired boy guarding the door, agitation forgotten, and gave her a once-over with his golden eyes. He saw the dark burn marks on her sleeve and narrowed his eyes.

"What happened?" he demanded. "Did he…?" His eyes went to Soul.

Though Kid looked back to Maka, the implication wasn't missed. "Soul didn't hurt me," she was quick to assure him. If nothing else, she didn't want any of the blame on the boy who helped her. "He actually saved me."

Kid's brows shot up. "Saved you? Him? How?"

Maka paused. If you tell anyone from the Star house what Wesley had done then there will be grave consequences for all of us. What was that supposed to mean? Damn Raum and his cryptic messages. Almost everything that he'd told her sounded absurd, but the warnings felt so real. Broken rules, earned punishments, the lack of sympathy. It was impossible to tell whether or not he had said a word of truth to her.

"Maka, what happened?"

"I… I fell down the stairs," she said finally. "Soul found me and brought me here to get Raum to help. I dislocated my shoulder but they managed to pop it back in. I'm okay now, though." Kid's eyes widened but before he could say anything, she shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Can we just go home please? I'm really tired…"

"Of course," he agreed, though worry still leaked in his eyes. Kid glanced back at Soul, but Maka couldn't bring herself to see what those red orbs would say to her lie. "Let's go."