A/N: As usual, I own nothing. Not a thing. No characters, only my own thoughts about the characters.

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15. Soothing Paprika with Mint Leaves

On The Other Side Of The Door

Soul walked slowly down the long corridor's of the DWMA's basement, or, a more realistic name, the dungeon. Sure, the Academy already had a dungeon area with actual cells, but prisoners seemed to spend more time in the basement's guest rooms than the actual prison cells. Plus, the place was so creepy it was uncanny how well the word 'dungeon' fit.

Walking past door after door, Soul began wondering which one was Crona's. It'd been a few days since they'd defeated Asura and Crona had returned to them safely with a few wounds to show the sacrifice she made for them all. Maka and the others were glad the demon sword meister had made it through and they'd been able to bring her back to the DWMA. He was grateful, too.

She spent most of her time in her old room in the Academy's basement while an almost controlled chaos resided just up the stairs. Many things had to be dealt with, such as injuries, mental and physical; Death's remains, both his own pile of skin and the fragment of himself he'd left behind to finish up everything: Kid; and a few other enemies now neutral acquaintances that resided in the DWMA's basement.

Maka's injuries were being treated and when Soul had finally convinced her to rest, she made him promise to visit Crona before she'd settled into a deep sleep.

So, he had done just that, and was kicking himself because he couldn't remember which one of the stupid rooms had been hers.

He was thinking about going by gut instinct and knocking on the random door to his left when a quiet humming pulled his attention to a thick, closed door down the hall. Gazing around warily, he strode up to the door, raising a hand but stopping before his knuckles could make contact.

On the other side of the door, the muffled humming continued. It was a feminine voice, and although the tune was hard to hear through a thick metal door, he recognized it as Meditation of Souls, a song his brother used to play. As for the one humming rather solemnly, he could only guess it was Crona.

When he quietly rapped on the door, the humming stopped immediately and he called through the metal surface, "That was Meditation of Souls, right? You remember it pretty well from the short time I played it with my piano on the moon."

The person on the other side of the door was silent and finally their muffled voice answered, "I've heard it somewhere before."

"It would make sense if you don't remember too well. Things will start appearing more clearly now. At least, that's was Maka says," Soul answered.

Crona was silent for a moment or two before calling, "I guess so, now that the Kishin and Lady Medusa are gone. I'm sure your lives will return to normal now."

"Yours, too," Soul assured the soft voice. "Now that you're back with us, everything will return to a more mundane atmosphere, though I suppose that's after everything else is figured out, like Kid's position as Lord Death and a few enemies we have living down here along with you."

He could hear a long sigh from behind the door, followed by, "Why are you talking to me?"

The scythe narrowed his eyes in confusion before answering, "Maka wanted me to come talk to you. She would have herself, but she took quite the beating on the moon. I made sure she rested up for a bit before coming to see you."

"Are you talking to the rest of the prisoners as well?"

Soul shrugged before realizing how pointless the action was and replied, "Yeah, maybe. Sid's going to come down here later to talk with some of them. You remember Sid, right? The big blue guy?"

Silence and then, "Yeah, I saw him a few times."

"That's right." Soul smiled, happy Crona remembered. "He's going to come talk to the prisoners, see what's going to happen to them, all that stuff. Some of them were a really big help to us, especially the witches. Kid's really grateful to them, along with everyone else."

"That's good," came a thoughtful mumble. "I'm glad… could help…"

"What was that?" Soul asked loudly, knocking on the door softly. "I didn't catch that last bit; the door is really thick."

"Nothing," the girl inside the room murmured. "I just hope your new god of Death will be kind to those who were captured, whether they helped or not. It's not really any business of mine what happens to the rest of them, but I don't like sitting in here, wondering."

Soul felt his soul pulse in his chest and he blinked wearily. Though it may have just been the door muffling her voice, she sounded so soft and alone in the corner of her room. He didn't really have an explanation for the sudden urge to go inside Crona's room and comfort the poor meister. Maka had hugged the girl when she'd first met her and found a way deep within the trembling individual's soul. He couldn't help but wonder if he would have the same affect.

"It's alright," he said in a hushed voice, though loud enough so Crona would hear. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Look, I want you to go back to being happy." The scythe felt his face heat up a few degrees and he quickly clarified, "I mean, everyone wants you to be happy again. We don't want this whole war to change everything."

"You want me to be happy again? Everyone does?"

"Y-Yeah," Soul answered hesitantly, rubbing his forehead and looking around wearily. "You were humming just now, and you sounded almost… content. I…We all know you can return to getting along with everyone and having the time of your life."

He'd grown up, that was for sure. Soul could't have imagined himself saying this a year ago, before everything had happened. Asura's resurrection, the search for the kishin, and finally the killing of the troublesome enemy had changed them all. He would have thought it uncool, but Maka had done it once before and she wasn't here now, so it was up to him. And he really wanted Crona to be happy. She'd gone through too much already. She deserved friends who could comfort her and tell her it would be alright, and she deserved a cheerful, normal life with them.

"You're really nice," the little voice behind the door spoke up, interrupting his thoughts and the white haired teen rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "To be talking to someone like me."

"We all forgive you, Crona," Soul murmured, grabbing a hold of the metal handle of the door.

"Crona? What are y—" the voice inquired, stopping Soul from pushing the door open when an all too familiar, boisterous voice called out, "Hey, Soul! What're you doing down here?"

The Death Scythe whipped around, hoping his cheeks didn't appear to red or eyes too sentimental as he turned to face Black Star. The blue haired assassin looked confused as to why the weapon was down in the DWMA's basement and Soul was about to answer his mystified look when he suddenly noticed the figure standing beside him. The ever confused, nervous looking—

"Crona?" Soul cried almost hysterically, leaning forward as if to see right through a disguise the demon sword meister was wearing. "What are y—I thought you were—uh… In the… um…" He continued to babble for a few seconds, motioning to the door like some sort of insane person. "—but you're down here and you're—"

"Wondering why the white haired guy in front of her is being such a weirdo, yeah, that's right," Black Star answered, giving his friend a concerned look as though he might start coughing up all the kishin souls he collected in order to become a Death Scythe. "I brought Crona to visit Maka, and now I'm bringing her back to her room. So what are you doing in front of the frog's room?"

"The frog…?" Soul echoed dubiously, eyes widening with the sudden realization before he cried in shock. "You mean the witch Eruka!"

Very silently, the door in front of him creaked open and the red face of Eruka peeked out. For awhile, both the witch and scythe stared at each other for awhile before Eruka squeaked and slammed the door shut, leaving him staring wide eyed at the metal surface.

There was no way. It just couldn't be. In those few minutes, could he, the cool Soul Eater Evans, have developed feelings for a witch? And all because she was humming that stupid song his brother used to play on his violin and Maka purified the souls of Baba Yaga's Castle with?

He wouldn't have believed it, but his flushed cheeks, fidgeting soul, and snickering friend told him otherwise.

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A/N: Aah, Soul. Know the identity of the person you're talking to before you say such heartfelt things.

So, I wrote this entire thing, was very satisfied with it, and then I read the last chapter of Soul Eater's manga. So, this isn't really accurate…