content warning:
a little bit of explicit swearing

Slowly but surely, Maka notices a change.

One X, then two, then a whole row appear over the numbers that she had drawn during that one afternoon at Deathbucks. She starts making it home regularly before 6pm.

Throughout the workday, whenever she feels a shadow of self-doubt, she looks over at the list on her cubicle wall for a small boost: "Helped Tsubaki with 5 support tickets and she thanked me with some baked goods", "Wrote 12 articles last week","Finished writing the release memo and got complimented by Marie on it". Sometimes, it doesn't really help and she thinks she could have done even more. But sometimes it does.

She can't tell how much of it is due to the conversations she has with Soul about her insecurities, the daily habit calendars, or the questioning she now gives herself whenever she has a negative self-thought, but the forest within her head now feels less hostile and she doesn't feel so trapped.

She even tags along the next time her coworkers go out after work, despite there being no special occasion, and gets the opportunity (or rather, the misfortune) to witness a drunk BlackStar and Kilik get into a rap battle which then devolves into them making recordings for their "next mixtape".

And she starts regularly drinking her coffee with a little bit of milk.

One day, things feel drastically different. Maka can't tell whether it's because Soul is visiting her desk in the morning, or because he's wearing a matching blazer and dress pants.

"Wow, you're dressed up," she notes, eyebrows raised. While her own outfits tend to regularly be on the dressier side – today she's wearing a matching purple blouse with purple flats and a black skirt – in all the time they've worked together Soul has always come to work in the standard dev fanfare of hoodies, T-shirts, jeans, or sweatpants. Still, she has to admit that he cleans up really well. Like, really well.

She internally screams at herself to stop staring.

"Yeah, got a product presentation later this afternoon, so I figured I'd come over and hang out now since I probably won't come back to the office after," Soul responds, setting an apple down on her desk. She had recently tried to convince him to make his next new habit "eat one fruit/vegetable a day" but he had refused. Nevertheless, she does find him eating more from that food group overall now.

"But you've done product presentations in your regular clothes before," she points out, dragging her eyes back to her monitor.Don't stare don't stare don't stare—

He merely shrugs. "Sounds like the client this time is pretty corporate, so Kid wanted us to dress up just in case."

"Wow, Kid's going too?" she asks, looking back up at him in surprise. Must be a pretty big client – Kid is their CTO and Shinigami-sama's son, and even though Maka doesn't know him that well personally, she knows enough of him professionally to fully believe that nepotism does not run in the company. Despite his young age, Kid is a force to be reckoned with.

"Yeah. To be honest, I'm a little nervous." Soul chuckles and comes around to stand behind her. "What're you working on?" he asks, peering curiously at her screen as he takes a sip from his mug.

"Just helping Tsubaki keep an eye on the support queue since she's in a meeting." She picks up the apple and takes a small bite, relieved that he's moved out of her direct line of sight.

"You guys should really hire another person," he mutters quietly. "It's not your job."

"I know it isn't. I just feel bad for Tsubaki sometimes," she responds just as softly.

"Yeah, well, it's not fair to you especially if it's interfering with your own work." She feels him frown. "Both of you should talk to Marie about it, especially if she's getting overwhelmed too. Otherwise, the load will only get worse in the future when we grow." He adds, "Don't let yourselves be taken advantage of."

"Alright, boss." She rolls her eyes but also smiles. She knows Soul's career advice is coming from a good place. "Will you let me get back to work now?"

"Yes, boss," he says just as mock-seriously as she does. Then without warning, he leans over her, causing her to catch a whiff of his scent. He must be wearing some sort of cologne, she thinks – it's something subtly woody yet not harsh or spicy; maybe sandalwood? Either way, she's so distracted by it that she almost misses how he's taken a bite out of her apple, or how he smirks at her as he walks back to his desk.

For the rest of the day, she's distracted by that last image of him, her mind lost and wandering in a different set of woods.

Later that evening, she's leaving the office at 5:15pm, the latest X freshly checked off in her notebook, when her phone rings. Maka fishes it out from her pocket along with her hands, wincing when they come in contact with the cold windy air, but then promptly forgetting the sensation when she sees the screen.

It's an incoming Deathchat call from Soul.

Her heart leaps against her will – they've never spoken over the phone before because even when they don't see each other in person at work, they use instant messaging. And although they interact daily, aside from premeditated plans Maka makes no attempt to see or contact him outside of business hours.

Because even though he's a friend, he's still a friend from work, and she's afraid of what might happen if she starts treating him like something more than that.

"Hello?" she says, finally picking up the call.

There's a beat of silence, and then, "Hey." Soul's voice sounds gruffer over digital media, but she can't tell whether it's because of her spotty data or because of something else.

"Are you okay?" she asks, then frowns. Where had that come from? She had not meant to say that, at least not right away.

The silence returns and Maka wonders if the connection is lagging or, even worse, if she's somehow offended him. Before she can ask whether he's still there, she hears him sigh. "No, I'm not," he responds wearily. "I need someone to talk to."

"Then talk to me," she says. Worst case scenarios jump to her mind. Did something go wrong with the presentation? Was he fired? Is he physically hurt?

Silence comes through again and she realizes the reason for that is new: because Soul is hesitating. "Can you meet me somewhere?" he finally asks, then sharply sucks in a breath and quickly backtracks with, "Actually, never mind, I'm sure you have other plans and I didn't mean to bother you with something so trivial—"

"Soul, it's okay." He shuts up instantly and Maka wonders what the heck is going on. "It's obviously not trivial since you brought it up." Normally he's the calm and level-headed one but now she hears something new in his voice. She thinks it might be desperation and she doesn't like it. "What's wrong?" she asks gently, although on the inside she's doing her best to keep herself from panicking.

This time he's silent for so long that she wonders if he's hung up. Finally Soul flatly says, "You're gonna think I'm stupid if I say it out loud."

Maka relaxes a little; if he thinks that then it can't possibly be someone's death, or an actual emergency where she has to call the cops. "Then in that case, I'm gonna think you're stupid regardless of whether it's on the phone or in person." She can't resist the jab, but it works out in her favour because he laughs.

"Don't worry, I'll still meet you," she adds, her tone gentle yet serious again. "Just tell me where."

"Cool." Soul is quiet again too, as if she's reprimanded him for doing something wrong. "Did you just leave work?" he asks. A second later, he says, "I sent you the address for something nearby."

"Sounds good," she says. Then, before she can change her mind, she adds, "Hang tight, Soul. We'll make it out of the woods together, right?"

Silence fills the space between them again, but then she hears him take a breath. "Right," he finally says, and this time he doesn't sound as lost. "Thank you, Maka," he adds quietly.

"Hey, we're partners after all." She smiles and hopes that, somehow, it reaches him through the phone. "See you soon."

Death's Little Brother is a nondescript yet somehow charming hole-in-the-wall cafe that's 10 minutes away from the office. Maka has never been inside before but she's heard both coworkers and friends rave about it, despite the strange name. Now, as she enters for the first time, she can maybe see why – the lighting is a little dim yet warm, the atmosphere is cozy, and the coffee smells amazing.

She spots Soul in the back, not at a table but in a relatively secluded corner where some armchairs and couches have been laid out around a coffee table in a family room-style setup. He stands up when she approaches, back in his usual outfit of leather jacket and jeans. "Hey," he says, and she knows then that what she heard in his voice earlier on the phone wasn't merely due to call quality.

He's upset.

Before Maka can ask what's wrong, he gestures back towards the front counter she'd passed by on her way to him. "Do you want something to drink?" he asks. "I didn't order yet. It's on me, since I called you out here."

She makes up her mind quickly, then asks, "What're you going to get?" in return.

He shrugs. "My usual. Just a mocha."

"Alright." She turns around and can feel his shocked stare as he loudly calls, "Hey, where are you going?"

Maka stops, but only to look back and respond, "To order. It's on me." She flashes him a quick smile. "I don't know exactly what's going on, but I feel like I'd be a huge jerk to make you pay in this situation."

Soul looks like he wants to argue. "Then I'd feel like the jerk," he mumbles. "It's not cool for a guy to let a girl pay, you know."

"Okay, there are a lot of things wrong with that sentence," she responds firmly but lightly, "but one of them is that outdated concept is only supposed to apply on dates anyway." She can't believe the words coming out of her mouth without her thinking as she raises an eyebrow and jokingly asks, "Is this a date then?"

Something changes in Soul's expression, but finally he chuckles and sits down, conceding defeat. "That would make for a really shitty date with what I'm about to tell you," he says, sinking back into the armchair. "Thank you," he adds, closing his eyes.

Five minutes later, Maka returns with two large ceramic teacups, a mocha latte for him and a plain black coffee for her. He thanks her again and takes a long sip, not seeming to care about the latte art made by the barista. She smiles, recognizing the normal him again in that familiar action that she's seen him make before in the office, and takes a sip from her own cup.

She's surprised. Everyone is right; the coffee here is really good and she can taste the richness and bold flavour right away, with no underlying bitterness or stale taste. It's truly a warm comfort from the cold weather outside.

And yet, it still feels like something is missing.

"How is it?" Soul asks, carefully watching her. A third of his cup is already gone, it looks like.

"It's really good!" she answers truthfully. "But…" Oh man, he will never let her live this down. "I think I'm gonna add some milk," she finishes sheepishly. She runs back to the front counter as he breaks into a fit of laughter, which unfortunately doesn't seem to decrease in volume even when she's across the room.

"Shut up," she finally mumbles when she gets back to her seat, unable to meet his eyes, although secretly she's glad that he doesn't seem as despondent as he was before.

"Looks like I've influenced someone's preferences, huh?" Soul teases her. If she had a book she would toss it at his head, but as it is she just glares at him behind her cup.

"You know," she starts defensively, "it's not that I hate mixing stuff into my coffee. It's just that black coffee is healthier."

"Really now." Soul raises his eyebrows as if in doubt. "Somehow I feel like the studies claiming that are inconclusive." He pointedly takes another sip of his hot chocolate with a hint of coffee in it.

"Yeah, well, come back and say that to my face when I live a few years past you," she jokes. "And anyway, when's the last time you've seen a girl drink black coffee, huh?"

She watches Soul open his mouth, pause in thought, and then close it. "Huh," is all he finally says. "I can't remember so I guess it's been a while."

"Exactly." Maka takes a sip. "But you know, women can drink black coffee too! And I want to prove it." Half jokingly she adds, "I'm a strong independent woman who don't need no milk, cream, or sugar."

"Maka." Soul chuckles, but it doesn't sound condescending at all. "You know you don't have to drink black coffee to prove anything about yourself or your independence. If someone can't recognize that about you right away, then they don't deserve to be in your life." He looks at her with something in his eyes, but she can't quite place what it is.

It makes her feel warm inside, just like the coffee.

"I know that!" she says, trying to brush off the feeling. "But anyway—" she puts her cup down and turns towards him "—we're not here to talk about me." To be honest, ever since she got that first call from Soul, she's been madly curious to know what's weighing so heavily on his mind. Yet at the same time, she'd told herself that she couldn't rush it with her usual restlessness – Soul would let her know when he was ready.

For him, she would be patient, no matter how long it took.

"Right." Soul gives a huge sigh. "The presentation today."

"Did something happen with the client…?" she asks, already expecting that much but still slightly afraid for him. If such a high-profile client had been made unhappy, even if it wasn't necessarily Soul's or their company's fault, that wasn't a good sign.

"No." Soul frowns. "Well, yes, but not… professionally." He sighs again. "What I'm trying to say is, one of the reps from the client company was… my ex."

"Oh." Maka blinks. She had not been expecting that. "I'm guessing you guys didn't end on good terms, huh?" She pauses, hoping that she isn't intruding on a boundary of his, and then slowly points out, "Actually, now that you mention it, you never told me why you guys broke up in the first place."

Soul on the other hand looks completely unsurprised. "She moved away." He runs his fingers through his hair as he blankly continues, "Said she wanted to try something new and do more adventuring, and it wasn't the right time to settle down yet." He glances downward as he adds, "She didn't even want to try long distance."

"I'm sorry, Soul…" Maka says softly after a moment. She wishes so badly that he didn't have to hurt, but knows time is the only real way to mend a broken heart. "How long were you guys together for?"

"Five years," he answers, and her mouth drops open in shock. "Five long years," he adds bitterly, "and our relationship wasn't worth holding onto."

"How did you guys meet…?" she asks slowly, afraid of ticking him off more but too curious to stop.

"We met a long time ago, when we were kids." Soul stares straight ahead as he speaks, but his eyes look as if he's transported to another time and place. "She was a family friend and we did music lessons together, although she never really liked them and sucked." He cracks a small smile in reminiscence. "Her parents were strict and overprotective too, but way more than mine ever were, and they weren't even Asian at all. It drove Ana crazy."

"Ana." Maka tries it out herself. "Is that her name?" she asks.

"Yeah. Short for Anastasia. She preferred to be called Anya but clearly I didn't listen." Soul lets out a big breath and she commits herself to strongly disliking this person on his behalf. So she's slightly surprised when he himself admits, "I used to hate her when I was younger actually."

"Why? And what changed?" She hates how intrigued she is.

Thankfully Soul seems open, or at least willing, to talk about it. "She was so goddamn annoying, always having an insult to make or talking to you like you owed her a favour for being in her presence. And she had no tact or filter whatsoever. That got her in so much trouble and it was just as entertaining watching it every time." He laughs at some memory she can't even imagine.

"But then we went to the same middle school and spent a lot of time together," he continues, his voice losing its hostile edge. "We bonded a lot over having the same issues with our parents. We could chill in the same room for hours, doing completely different things and not talking, and yet her company would still be enjoyable." His voice becomes quiet. "She liked hanging out with me when no one else did."

Maka's heart pangs, seeing him hurting and so vulnerable, so unlike how he usually is: calm and cautious yet encouraging. "Is that how you guys got together?" she asks just as quietly.

"I guess it was," he responds tiredly. "But it didn't happen until we were in college. She was the one who made the first move, and after that it just made sense to officially be exclusive together. I guess she could tell how obvious my feelings for her were, and how I was so pathetic that I'd never have the courage to confess to her first." He laughs, then adds bitterly, "I wish she had never said anything. Perhaps things would have been better that way."

Maka wants to tell him not to say that, but she feels like it isn't her place. Instead, she switches topics and slowly asks, "So what happened when you saw each other today? Was that the first time you saw her since the breakup?"

"Yeah." Soul looks like a wounded puppy again. "When I saw her, I had to step out for a second, but she looked as surprised as I did." He laughs again, and she hates it. "I was so shocked that I don't even remember what I said for the presentation. It must've gone okay though because Kid didn't say anything to me."

"Did she say anything to you?"

"Yeah. She… asked me to go out for lunch with her after." Soul visibly winces as Maka's mouth drops open.

"Soul! You're not supposed to establish contact with your ex until long after you're both over each other!" She sighs at the sure recipe for disaster but, despite this, still demands, "And then what happened?!" Maka is basically hanging onto the edge of her seat but she needs to know .

"Well, we caught up a little. She told me about her new job and how living in Seattle is like. Said she thought I'd like it." Soul shrugs and, looking away, picks up his coffee cup. "It sounded like she's really enjoying herself there." He doesn't say anything else as he takes a sip.

"...That's it?" Maka finally asks, trying to hide the relief from her voice. To be honest, she had expected something much worse, like a full-on fight breaking out and them causing a scene, or even one of them suggesting they get back together.

(She tries to tell herself that her relief at the latter is purely for his sake only.)

"I guess." Soul is now moving his cup slowly in a circular motion, watching intently as the thick coffee inside swirls around. "I guess... I just feel like such shit because it sounded like she was completely fine." He sounds choked up. "Like the last five years didn't mean anything to her after all. Like she's already moved on and focusing on the next chapter of her life, moving up and trying out new things. And I'm a fucking mess, because for the first time in all the time we've known each other I'm alone and I don't know what to do."

Maka is quiet for a second to give him time to recompose himself. "Soul," she finally says, desperate to convince him otherwise, "you're not a mess and you're not alone. In fact, you're great." She pauses for a second to collect her thoughts, then continues, "We've only worked together for a few months now but you're doing so well for yourself and even giving your own presentations. Even BlackStar says so, and you know he doesn't say that about just anyone."

He doesn't respond and instead just keeps moving his coffee around, so she keeps talking. "Everyone likes you. The devs all enjoy working with you. Kilik and BlackStar would throw hands for you. And you've got me ." She sucks in a breath, trying to project as much comfort as she can into her voice, because she wants him to know that she sincerely means it. "Sure, we might only know each other through work – and I know none of us are girlfriend material – but we're your friends." Her voice softens. "We'll help you get through this, together."

The coffee in his hand finally stops moving as Soul eventually looks up, and his eyes look blank.

"Thank you, Maka." He says it slowly as if she won't hear him otherwise, and she feels hopeful but then he shakes his head regretfully. "Thank you, but you can stop."

"What?" She feels like she's been punched in the gut. "Stop what?" she asks, as a feeling of dread settles in her bones.

"I know you're only saying those things to make me feel better," he replies with no emotion, and oof, that hurts. "And I appreciate your efforts, but it's not worth it." She winces visibly, and he quickly adds, "It's not your fault, Maka. It's mine. I'm not worth it. Because I was never fine on my own." He smiles sadly.

"What do you mean?" she asks, and now it feels like her heart is sinking.

Soul doesn't respond right away, but finally he says, "You know, growing up, I was bullied all the time for being too quiet and not fitting in." He looks up at the ceiling. "I always felt so fucking worthless. But then Ana came along and stood by my side, and she saw something in me. She made me feel worth something, even the worst parts of me."

He takes a shuddering breath. "She made me want to get better for her, but not because of me. Because she was so out of my league and I was afraid of losing her. So I just faked it until I made it. And then she left anyway, and I'm just a fake as fuck imposter, pretending like I've got my life all together. And no one will love me ever again like she did. So what's the point?" He laughs humorlessly.

Maka finally has enough.

"Soul, shut up," she says loudly, and punches him in the arm. He yelps in surprise and glares at her but she glares back. "You're not an imposter. Didn't you say that to me once? You're just stuck in the cycle." His eyes widen at his own words being used against him and he tries to avert his gaze, but she grabs his shoulders and doesn't stop. "I know, five years is a long time, and I can't even imagine how painful it must feel to lose someone who was in your life for so long. But you can't say that everything you learned or achieved in all those years is useless now just because she's no longer by your side."

Her glare softens. "You're worth it. Worth it even if no one else loves you like that, and worth it when they do because I knowsomeone will love you again." She hopes she doesn't stutter over that last part, but she doesn't linger over the thought for too long – she has to keep going until he gets the message, because it's not just lip service; she really means it. "But if you can't strive to improve for yourself, then do it for the other people in your life. Do it for me, because you and I shook on a partnership and I'll be damned if you don't carry out your end of the bargain." She can't help but shake him a little and gives a small smile. "You still deserve to be happy, Soul. And if you don't think so, then you can confide in me and I'll confide in you. Right?"

She holds her breath now that her speech is done, and after a moment lets go of him too – she hadn't realized that she was holding onto him for so long. Had she gone too far and offended him, especially with the physical gesture and in public too? Did what she said turn out to be unhelpful – or even worse, insulting? Would he choose never to speak to her again after all, and revoke their partnership?

But finally, Soul talks. "Right," he breathes, and as he looks downward she realizes that there are tears in his eyes. She thinks her heart breaks a little.

Silently, she hands him a tissue and holds his arm to show that she's still there. And for the first time ever, she wishes that they were more than office buddies, just so she could hold him a little closer.

"Thank you again," Soul says as they exit the coffee shop, calmer now that he's had time to recompose himself. He's still quiet, and Maka can tell that he's still sad, but she also thinks that she's done all she can for tonight. After all, only time can fully mend a broken heart.

"Hey, like I said, we're partners. Being there is the least I can do." She smiles at him and, despite all things, he returns one back.

The wind blows cold, disturbing the moment. "Are you gonna head home now?" he asks, burying his face deeper into the neck of his jacket. "I can give you a ride – but only if you don't mind a bike."

"A bike?" she repeats, and her eyes widen as he gestures to a bright orange motorcycle parked across the street.

Five exhilarating minutes of being pressed up against him later, Maka is taking off her helmet and hopping off in front of her building. "Thanks for the ride," she says with a smile, as he cuts the engine and disembarks as well.

"Hey, it's like you said, it's the least I can do. After all, I was the one who asked you to meet up anyway." He carefully places the second helmet in the trunk.

She laughs. "There's no need to be so polite, Soul," she tells him jokingly. "Otherwise at this rate we're gonna be thanking each other over and over again forever." Not that she would mind that.

He grins and responds, "Be careful what you wish for." Then he turns to face her and, more seriously, adds, "But if you meant it, I was wondering if it wouldn't be too much to ask you for one more favour."

"Anything," she immediately says, seeing how vulnerable he has tonight. Feeling how much she wants to shield him, even though she can't.

He smiles and this time it looks strained. Finally, he asks quietly, "Would you be comfortable if I asked for a hug?"

She only takes a second to think about it and nod. He opens his arms as she walks straight towards him, no hesitation, finally wrapping her own arms around his torso when her cheek brushes up against his coat. In return, his limbs slowly encircle around her, his chin eventually coming to resting on her head, and she thinks it's ironic that he's the one who ends up protecting her from the cold and the wind, instead of the other way around.

"Maka," he finally whispers. "Thank you so much."

In the ensuing silence, she takes a breath and inhales a familiar smell – subtle sandalwood, rich yet smooth and creamy, with a little sharp hint of pine underneath. Just like Soul, she thinks. She wishes she could take a little bit and keep it somewhere, safe and protected forever.