Sorry I broke my every day posting streak. This one had me thinking for a while because I was not sure about the order I wanted or Maka. I mean, straight-up Soul Eater universe Maka was cool with Soul risking his life for her because of the job, but real-world Maka? Well, you'll see. Hopefully, this is right. Be ready, my lovelies.
It was a celebratory type of day and Maka was off the hook for cooking since wins at work always translated to a reward of their favorite take out. Death had called them into his office and made the formal announcement of what they already knew - Eibon had arranged a secondary office meeting for the project. Weird though he may be, Eibon was a man good to his word and Death couldn't have been any more clear about his continued hope in the partnership.
So when the doorbell rang, Soul was ready with money in hand, but when he opened the door it was Black Star's sour face. "You working delivery now?"
Black Star snorted, "Sure. Let me in."
"You bring anybody with you?" Soul leaned against the door, keeping his weight against it.
"You think I would?" Black Star raised an eyebrow as he took a step forward, tempted to slap the door.
Soul shrugged, "You told me to be careful."
Black Star scoffed, "Now you take that advice. Let me in, dude."
"OK, but you're not getting food when it comes."
"Oof, you really don't love me anymore." Black Star shot him a grin as Soul opened the door the rest of the way, giving him access to the hallway. "Yo, dollface, you here too?"
"No dollface here, only Maka," she snapped from the living room.
Soul cuffed him on the back of the head, receiving a wounded glare in return. "Don't call her that."
"Don't call her that," he mimed back as they rounded the corner. "Look, I'll make it short and sweet."
"I don't believe that," Maka muttered from her spot lounging on the couch.
"You know, you both should appreciate your God a little more," Black Star quipped. "I don't need to be here saving your asses but-"
Maka straightened, "Saving us?"
Black Star flopped next to her on the couch, "This dumb bastard hasn't been keeping this shit from you, has he? You're not one of us, but you're not stupid."
"I told her," Soul spat.
"Hopefully everything," Maka threatened.
Soul felt the fullness of the menacing glare from her, his stomach churning at that alone but as Black Star settled into the couch, the blankness that slid over his face brought a chill down Soul's spine. He knew what the meant, fear, concern, emotions that Black Star tried never to show. "But there's something new, huh, Black Star?"
"I don't know," Black Star muttered. "And that's the worst part. Medusa hasn't told me and I think it's because she knows I won't fuck with you."
Soul leaned against the doorway, "She actually say she doubts your loyalty?"
"Close enough," Black Star's tone was vacant in a way that made whatever movement in his gut freeze. It became worse as he turned his eyes to Soul and sucked his teeth. "She wants to see you. Talk to you."
"No," Maka answered for him almost immediately.
"Maka…" Soul tried to put out a hand as if that would quell that fire he saw starting behind those jade eyes.
She didn't skip a beat, hissing at him, "I'm not stupid, and that sounds like a trap."
"Might be," Black Star shrugged.
"See?" Maka motioned towards him. "So you can't. That's ridiculous."
"It's not that simple," Soul was trying not to give in to the fever that was raising her voice and giving life to the gesturing in her hands. He tried to move his gaze to Black Star, still seeing her pitching a fit in his periphery. "I'll think about it. I'm guessing she didn't give you an overview?"
"No, just negotiating about her," he hitched a thumb at Maka.
"Got it," Soul nodded.
"Negotiating?" Maka's shriek was cut short by the doorbell and Soul took it as a blessing as he walked back to the front door. This time it was the food, the delivery boy looking hastily from Soul to the inner apartment as Maka continued to berate Black Star in Soul's absence. Soul gave the poor kid an extra tip before taking the bags and kicking the door shut behind him.
The sight when he got back was no better, both of them sulking on opposite ends of the couch, refusing to look at each other but only at him as he walked through the door. It wasn't a cacophony of argument but a fiery glare from each, making the sweat pop up on the back of his neck. "Alright, discussion's over. Black Star, I'll call you."
Black Star stood slowly from the couch, waiting until Soul had placed the takeout on the coffee table before wrapping a fist up in his shirt, jolting him forward. "Don't do anything fucking stupid."
Soul worked his hand over top of Black Star's, loosening his fingers. "Not planning on it. And you can tell me you love me, dummy. Maka doesn't need all that fucking bravado."
"I don't fucking love you, idiot," Black Star gagged. "Who the fuck would love your completely uncool, emo without the make-up bullshit?"
He shot out a quick laugh, "Yeah, sure, love you, too. And you don't do anything stupid. I need you working on Plan B."
Black Star finally relinquished his hold but not before leaning closer, whispering only for him to hear. "You know I'm with you. She wasn't wrong about my loyalty. It's us first."
Soul patting him on the shoulder, sending one last signature smirk the other man's way before he stomped off. He'd actually miss Black Star because Soul knew what awaited him as soon as the apartment was empty. Anyone could feel Maka fuming from a mile away, her aura just glowing with that 'you're in trouble mister' fire.
As soon as the front door slamming echoed into the room, her voice snapped, "Your answer should have been no."
"OK," Soul nodded as he moved to take Black Star's vacated spot. As soon as he was close enough, her hands were on his arm, shaking him with each word.
"Black Star said she's planning something so there's no way you can go and see her," she urged.
"I hear you," he sighed, knowing instantly that those were not the right words as her fingers tightened on his arm.
"Soul!" came as a desperate, annoyed cry.
"Maka, I get it, I hear what you're saying, but-" As he turned his head to look at her, Maka's fingers moved with a deft swiftness he didn't imagine. They grasped at his cheeks, holding him steady to look her in the face as her eyes blazed in a way that made his legs feel rubbery and he was ecstatic to be seated.
"Promise me right now you're not going to talk to her." Maka was nervous about her fingers but even more so about the fact that when he agreed, she would kiss him. She couldn't pinpoint why this was the moment, the turning point where everything was at risk but it felt right.
Or it did until he opened his mouth, "I can't promise you that." It was succinct, without thought or hesitation. It sounded like the surest thing he'd ever said.
"Why not?" came back like a petulant begging but she was unashamed of it especially as the certainty in them, what they were, suddenly felt so shaky underneath her.
"My life, whatever is it," Soul grasped her hands and brought them away from his face, instead cradling them in his, "it's not worth risking yours, Maka."
Maka hated them but the frustrated tears started to toy at her lids. "Don't give me some bullshit that you'd die for me. That's just completely stupid," she tried to give spitting emphasis to those last words but they turned into a disheartened warble.
"Talking to her isn't dying," he sighed as he ran a thumb over her knuckles, trying to concentrate on how lovely that felt in the face of all of this. "She wouldn't hurt me the way you're thinking she will, but you… I don't trust what she'd do to you."
She shook her head, letting a groan eke from her throat before she erupted again, "But giving up on what you want, on what you've become is dying, Soul."
He had to let her go and break the connection because the idea was agony. It was the unavoidable truth that was staring him in the face: what lengths would he go to keep her safe? Because safest would be to tell her to move the fuck out, to cut ties right now. You know if you go back there's no loving her, and going back might be the only way Medusa leaves her alone. That does feel like dying. Soul let her hands drop between them, a sick smile coming to his lips. "Maka, please, let it go."
"Let it go?" She spat them back in disbelief as if those words were alien to her.
"I'm asking…" His eyes lowered to his hands, watching as his fingers worried away at themselves without hers. "If you care about me at all, you'll let me handle this my way."
"If I care about you?" Each one of those words held their own on her tongue, each given their due. "That's… that's not fair, Soul."
"Life's not," he breathed out, believing no words more than those at that moment.
The fact that he waited until she was asleep and slunk out like a cat came with no justification and a substantial amount of self-loathing. Soul really hadn't thought he had any more room for hating himself considering the flood of it as he spent the rest of the night watching her eyes catch his with that smoldering anger. Maka had gone quiet, but he knew her mind wasn't especially since it had taken her hours longer than usual to fall asleep.
Her fitful sleep was what populated his mind as he walked through the shadowed streets. There were only one or two places like this left, relics of the past and as Soul walked up to the empty court he wished that this wasn't a space filled with memories. He walked to the far end and picked up the payphone, tossing a quarter in to start the dial-tone. The number came freely off his fingers.
Three rings and that smooth voice that he'd never forget oozed through the phone, "Hello?"
"Medusa," Soul offered as his only greeting.
"Oh, Soul, so kind of you to call," she purred.
"Not a pleasure, Medusa," he spat. "Tell me what you want."
Her throaty laugh trickled through the receiver, "Why can't we just talk like we used to? I miss you."
Soul forced himself to breathe as he grit his teeth.
"Or is your little darling princess there and you're afraid she won't like to hear the things we used to talk about?" Medusa's voice was like poison leaking into his ear. "The blood, the violence, how much you loved-"
It took everything he had not to spit and rip about Maka, knowing that was nothing more than futility. It would feed her if anything. "Tell me what you want."
"What do you think the price is to keep her safe? Your dearest little Maka?"
He wished he could rip the name from her tongue. "It's not up to me, is it?"
"No, you're right, it's not," Medusa's amused laugh sickened him. "But what do you think? I'm really curious about what she's worth."
Hesitation gripped his tongue. It'll be whatever I tell her. That'll be the price.
Medusa filled his silence with another short chuckle, "And don't lie, darling, and try to feed me the same bullshit Black Star has. You calling is proof enough that you need her. I just need to know how much."
Any answer is the wrong one. "Just add the amount to my tab. I'll pay what I have to." His throat clicked through a swallow, no saliva to save him.
"Money," Medusa sighed with annoyance. "What if I want something more meaningful than money?"
"There's nothing more meaningful to you," he grumbled breathlessly.
That strengthened her laugh that bled into Soul's ear. "Oh, see, Soul, I do miss you. But, I'd much rather have you than money."
"I come back full-time and you forget about her?" Every word tasted like ash in his mouth but he had to remind himself of the alternative.
"Oh, is that what she's worth?" The elation on the other side of the phone made him cringe. "If that's the case… I want something else."
What else is there? That was a terrifying thought and Soul was dumbfounded for answers. "What?"
"I mean, it's not even me who's upset by the girl. I couldn't care less." Somehow he doubted that but Medusa always sounded self-assured. "You two created trouble for Arachne."
A new blossom of curses started in his head.
"And while I never answer to my sister, staying on her good side is a must." Medusa paused and he knew she was delighted by his itching in the silence. "Ruin the proposal."
"What?" Soul croaked.
"The job with Eibon. Ruin it. Underperform or curse him out, I don't care, just make sure you never get the contract."
"Just… don't do my job." Nothing about this was simple, a mire of issues springing up from the meer idea.
"That's all," Medusa cooed joyfully. "And we'll call it even. No more pictures, no more harassment. I'll just sigh wistfully any time someone mentions your name." She paused to twitter through a fit of laughter before clearing her throat. "Now, I know we're both busy and you have a lot to think about, so I'll let you go. I'll know your answer after you meet with Eibon." The line went dead and the plastic suddenly felt frigid in his fingers.
The sound of the piano was almost immediate after the opening of the front door. Maka knew he'd left, listened to him try to sneak out and had considered following him but knew what the backlash for that would be. Instead, she waited sleeplessly, not even with an ounce of drowsiness for Soul's return. She promised herself she wouldn't shoot from her bed as soon as she heard the door, but the start of the music sent a cold strike of lightning down her spine and her feet wouldn't listen. She was out of bed and into the living room in record time, her heart beating against her rib cage.
Maka couldn't tell if he was ignoring her or just so intent on the keys but when she touched a hand to his shoulder the air sucked back into his lungs and his hands jutted from the piano. "Sorry. It was too loud, of course, it was too fucking loud." His hands were instantly in his hair and then over his face, trying to rub away whatever was there.
Maka ignored his admonishing himself and let the words burst from her mouth, "You went to go see her."
"No," he sighed. "Called her."
"You had to leave the apartment for that?"
For the first time since they'd met face to face her words actually hurt him, his heart heaving against his ribs. "You think I'm lying to you?"
Her lip trembled, "Would you?"
"No," he shot back. "I thought you would have figured out by now that I fucking can't. I tell you everything I can tell and more than I would fucking tell most people. Goddamnit, Maka!" He wanted to grab all of her, to shake those words deep into her bones but instead all he could do was grab her wrist.
Maka let out a shaky sigh along with one tear, "I'm sorry."
"Oh, damn it, don't fucking cry," he growled. His body was listening to his heart and not his head, quickly standing and wrapping his arms around her shoulders to give in to that feeling he wanted more than anything, the one that wouldn't last for long. He let a soft palm trail along her back, easing out the last of her trembling breaths. It should have been over after a minute but Soul clung to her, finding no argument as the moments ticked by silently, only measured by the way her heart felt like it was beating in his own chest. He waited for something close to calm before he continued, "Rule number one for today. You don't call from your cell or any landline. Find a shitty payphone."
"They still have those?" she murmured against his chest.
"Two that I know of in the city," he toyed with the next part but let it go. "There's one by the basketball courts in Maba Park."
"That's where you went."
"Yeah."
Maka clutched her fingers into the back of his shirt and found that he accepted the renewed tightness that came with her own aching guilt. I thought he lied. I did. That was my gut reaction. And even now, I want to think he's not telling the truth. And I know when I ask this, he's going to keep it from me, but I can't stop the question. "What does she want?"
"To hurt you, to hurt me, but she's never direct," he was careful with his words. "Let me think about what she said, Maka, and once I've figured things out I'll tell you."
Not a lie, an omission. Maka nibbled at her lip while she let that start a race in her mind. "So this is another thing I have to let go for now?"
Soul sighed, "Sometimes, Maka, I wish you'd just gut-punch me. It's a hell of a lot easier than the attitude."
"I can't hug you and gut-punch you at the same time," she muttered back. "If you can be mad about being accused of lying I can be mad about you questioning if I care."
Soul narrowed his eyes over her head. "I didn't say you didn't."
"Then don't ever use 'if you care about me.' It's not a good threat." She eased her grip and found him almost resisting, making it hard to get to the point where she could look him in the face. "At least admit that you see it, Soul. That you know I do."
Oh, that's the worst part, his mind screamed. Because, sure, I know, but it's all… all of it's going to end, isn't it? Isn't that the only outcome? "I know." Don't say it back because that's giving her, no, fuck, giving you hope. But looking into those green eyes, the stupid shine and the way her lashes brushed her cheek with each bat, he was doomed. "You know… you know I do, too."
"I know." She could see it playing in her mind, the way Soul would clear the little tangle of hair away from her face and let his fingers slide down to her chin and tilt it up just right so when he leaned in there would only a smooth, electrifying connection between their lips.
Instead, she felt his fingers slipping away from her followed by a step back and a clear of his throat. "You should sleep. I promise, no more piano for tonight."
"What are you going to do?"
She hated the smile that dared to span his lips. While he never lied to her, that face most certainly was a complete mockery of his own emotions. "My own pillow is calling me."