Ah~! I feel so accomplished with this! Don't worry all you little reader muffins! My other fics are under construction and Maka and Soul will make up! They're the main pairing, remember?

Here's a quick review response, since I can't respond to non-members. Everyone who reviews and has an account will be tended to personally with a response to their account! C:

Walrus-san~ : Thank you for your thoughts. However, I draw from personal experience in writing this fan fiction. Perhaps ANGST isn't the best category for it, but when someone loves another person unconditionally, yes, there is that warm feeling inside of them. But when that love is unreciprocated, the cold feeling of rejection, hurt, and despair tends to overwhelm that warm flame. I know the feeling of unreciprocated love, and tried to hurt myself, though not to Soul's extent, to gain the attention of said person. True, Soul's love has been turned to perhaps a less extreme form of obsession, but that's what happens when one lets despair win, and in Soul's case, with the demon in his soul and him being fictional, I think it's ok. If you disagree, that's fine, but don't hate me for it.

Iamthefivetails: Aww~! Thank you! I'm glad you think so!

Anon.~: I know, he'll get better, though. I'm glad you like the imagery. C:

So, here we go!

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The walk back to the apartment was silent. Soul wove back and forth, vertigo deciding to be a bitch, but he stubbornly refused to stop. Maka walked a few feet behind him, staring at the ground, trying not to break out in tears again. She was desperately trying to figure out what his soul had meant before. When he said that the angry side would vanish. Did that mean Soul would ignore her? Or did it mean that he would be emotionless? She groaned out loud and beat her head with her fist in frustration. Soul looked back at her for a moment, before continuing on his way. Maka stood watching him for a moment, trying desperately not to cry again, and failing miserably. She began to run in the direction of home, blowing past Soul in the process.

He wobbled slightly as she brushed his arm, but kept his balance. He watched her go, tilting his head to the side slightly, a puzzled look gracing his face. Argh, now his head was getting fuzzy again. Too much thinking, he decided, and picked up his pace a little. Soon, the apartment came into view. He stopped at the outside door, wondering if Maka had locked the door to their specific apartment. A quick search of his pockets revealed that his keys were still sitting in the dish on the same table the smashed picture had once occupied. He pushed the door open and ascended the stairs.

He reached out to touch the door to the apartment and stopped. Something was off, besides the lingering feeling of the day before. Sucking in his breath, Soul pushed open the door and walked into the apartment.

Maka was nowhere to be seen at first. The living room and dining area were empty, as well as the bedrooms. Then he turned to the kitchen and saw her. She was staring down at the floor, where he had been sitting when she found him. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. He stared back for a moment before walking into his room, and falling face first onto his bed, asleep before his face hit the pillow.

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She couldn't stop looking. Someone had come in already and cleaned up the blood, but the smell of death still lingered in the room. She knew Soul wasn't dead, but the smell of blood always smelled like death to her. Whoever had done the cleaning was very skilled at it, for there was no stain on the white linoleum. But she could still see it as if it was there. She heard Soul open the door. He didn't see her at first, but when he did, he stood there and stared at her. She didn't bother to check her tears, just looked back at him, wishing he would say something.

He didn't. He just walked into his room and shut the door. The protest and thump of his bed indicated that he had either fallen onto the bed or jumped onto it, the former being the most likely. She wanted to go check on him, but her feet were petrified, and she couldn't drag her gaze away from the floor again. The knife was gone, and so was the stain, but for some reason, the picture Soul had been holding was sitting on the counter.

'They must have forgotten it.' she thought, moving over to it, hesitantly, afraid to look at it.

The picture was stained irreparably with Soul's blood, but the image was still visible. It broke her heart all over again to think that she had let go of her relationship with Soul for another boy. She wouldn't even be able to look at her boyfriend anymore without feeling guilty. She picked up the photo, ignoring the crimson flakes that fluttered down onto the counter as she did so. Oh how she wished that everything could go back to the way it had been before.

The phone rang, the shrill noise startling her. Heart racing, she walked over and answered it on its third shrill shriek.

"H-hello?" she asked.

"Maka?" came Stein's low voice, "Good, you're home. I just wanted to tell you that I want you to stay home with Soul until his house arrest is over."

"But what about my classes, Stein-sensei? I don't want to fall behind."

"Don't worry, I'll have Tsubaki bring you your work. If she can't I'll send it with your father. He'd probably like that, he's clinging to my leg right now, trying to get the phone." In the background Maka could hear her papa trying desperately to get to the phone, screaming something about talking to "his little angel who is going to be scarred for life".

"Go ahead and put him on, Stein-sensei." she inhaled deeply as she mentally prepared herself to talk to her overly devoted father.

"MAKA-CHAN!" came his shriek, Maka had to hold the phone several inches away from her ear in order to retain her hearing. She glanced nervously at Soul's door, hoping he was very much asleep at that point.

"Hi, papa," she replied quietly, "Can you please calm down a little?"

"BUT IF I DO, MAKA-CHAN WON'T KNOW HOW MUCH HER PAPA LOVES HER!!!!!"

"Papa, if you love me as much as you say, you'll have more regard for my hearing."

"AH-! Oh, sorry," then in a more serious tone, "Maka, are you doing ok?"

Maka burst into tears again. "NOOOO! Papa, I don't know what to do! Soul is acting so weird! I don't know how to talk to him, or how I should act, because I can't act like nothing even happened, but I don't want him to think I'm trying to make things better to quickly!"

"Calm down, Maka-chan. You'll get through it. What's Soul's favorite breakfast?"

"Umm…pancakes with little chocolate chips in them. And bacon…" she replied, confused by her papa's question.

"Then get up early and make that for him. If he wants to be alone for a while, you can come here for a bit. We can let him have some time for himself Ok?"

"Ok, Papa. Thank you." Maka hung up the phone, ignoring her father's resumed shouts of how much he loved her.

She turned to the cupboards and began rummaging through them, checking to make sure that she had everything to make breakfast in the morning. Taking one last look at the picture on the counter, she picked it up and carried it to her bedroom. She laid down on the bed, turned on her alarm clock, and fell asleep, still clutching the picture and fully clothed.

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The alarm blared in her ear, sooner than she expected. She was dismayed to remember that she hadn't put on pajamas the night before, but brushed the thought of quickly. She changed quickly and went out to begin breakfast.

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The sound and smell of cooking. bacon woke Soul from his slumber. He felt slightly less tired than he had the day before, except he was starving. He sat up, waited for the room to stop spinning, and stood. A quick stretch, clean pants, and he was out the door. His nose twitched and he caught the scent of warm chocolate chip pancakes. His stomach growled at the heavenly scent, before sinking.

Crap, how was he supposed to face Maka? He was sure she was going to upset as hell, and something told him, he wasn't sure what, that they had argued.

He racked his brains, but couldn't come up with a reason to back up his thought. He was sure he had been unconscious all the previous night. Shaking away the thought, he slowly padded into the living room and sat with a whump! onto the couch. He peeked over the edge and caught Maka glancing at him. He couldn't detect any anger, no, it was a little bit of anxiety, and…concern? Shit, just what he needed. Took her damn long enough. He looked down at his forearms, and noticed that the bandages wrapped around them needed to be changed. Damn, Stein hadn't said anything about that. As he mused, the phone rang. He looked back into the kitchen. Maka had answered it. He turned away, only to be addressed.

"S-soul? It's Stein-sensei. He says he needs to talk to you." Soul noticed a tremble in her voice, as if she was fighting back tears. He got up and snatched the phone away from her, not meeting her gaze.

"Hello?" he asked, his voice still rather gravely.

"Ah, good, I'm glad you're awake, Soul. I just needed to address the changing of your bandages."

"Yeah, thanks for telling me about this yesterday. Do I need to come in today?" he asked, his voice full of sarcasm.

"No, actually, I slipped everything into your jacket pockets before you left. Maka will help you. If you manage to ask that is." Soul could hear him chuckle slightly, and immediately became annoyed.

"You, sneaky, manipulative bastard."

"Oh, I know." replied Stein, still laughing, and hung up.

Soul slammed the receiver down, and stormed over to his coat, hanging on it's hook. He reached into the pockets and pulled out the rolls of gauze, salve, and bandages he somehow hadn't noticed the day before.

"Bastard."