They hadn't spoken for half an hour now, despite being seating less than two feet away from each other. Maka knew because she had been timing.

It was a shame, though, because it had been quite a promising beginning. Well, apart from all the awkward silences. And the staring at the floor. Also apart from both of them blurting out practically simultaneously that they didn't want to live together. Oh, and apart from the failed handshake.

Still, after Soul had played that gorgeous piece on the piano and they had (successfully) shaken hands, things took a turn for the better. They talked about Shibusen, and what they thought being students would be like. Soul had said that he wanted to become a death scythe (although he didn't say why) and Maka had promised him that she would try her hardest to make that happen. He had raised his eyebrows at that, and she got the sense that he didn't believe her. Pushing past her indignation, because, after all, they had just met, Maka asked Soul about his piano playing.

How long had he been playing? Where had he learnt to play like that? She wasn't trying to compliment him, she was genuinely curious. He started to look uncomfortable, and evaded her questions. She wished she knew how to play an instrument, she had said, piano or flute or violin or –

Like a light turning out, he'd clammed up. He stopped answering her questions, nodding his head slightly at whatever she said, eyes looking slightly to her left, obviously not listening. To compensate for his silence, she started talking loudly and incessantly, prattling on about anything and everything until she ran out of steam. Then they just sat there, him on the piano stool, her on the low table on which she had perched herself.

It was a relief when Nygus fetched them and told them that all new students were required to meet back in the antechamber. They were to be given information about term dates, subjects, life insurance and, if students had chosen to live in Death City, maps to their new homes. Maka liked Nygus – she was new to the staff, but had attended Shibusen and Maka still remembered her as a student.

When she'd been very little, one day while accompanying her father to work, she became lost in the Shibusen grounds. Her father had been distracted by a new, female teacher and, completely forgetting about his own small daughter, ran off after the staff member. Maka had wandered the corridors frantically for what felt like hours, trying her hardest not to cry before being found by a heavily bandaged senior student – a girl named Nygus. Holding firmly onto Maka's hand, Nygus had marched through the halls as though she were leading the Queen to her throne, not saying much, but still being a comforting presence. Once Maka was reunited with her father, Nygus, despite being far inferior in status to the young death scythe, had yelled at him for fifteen minutes about leaving his daughter alone, throwing names like pervert, sleaze and monster at him with such venom that Maka was surprised he didn't just fry up right there on the spot.

Surprisingly, Nygus was also one of the few young women whom her father wouldn't hit on.

The walk to the antechamber had been (thankfully) filled with conversation between herself and Nygus. Maka kept checking Soul's face to see if he were curious at all about how she already knew a Shibusen staff member, but he looked deep in thought and didn't seem to care about her acquaintances. Fine. If he were going to keep this up, she would just swap partners after the obligatory one month trial period, no skin off her nose. She marched into the antechamber to be debriefed about life at Shibusen feeling comfortably superior.

Afterwards, while walking through the streets of Death City next to her new weapon, weighed down by information about term dates, subjects, life insurance and trying to read the convoluted map held in her hands, Maka was struck by the realization that she was still going to have to spend a month with this boy. She may as well try to make things … civil.

'So, which subjects are you thinking of taking?' She asked, hoping to (once more) break the ice. Not a bad topic of conversation, actually. Something they could both have an opinion on. A conversation around it could potentially last for a good half hour.

Soul, not looking at her, replied with 'I dunno.'

Was he trying to make this difficult and painful? 'Come one,' she said cheerily, although she wasn't a very good actor and it came out more like pleadingly, 'I'm sure you must have some idea about what you want to take!'

The boy shrugged, which was quite a feat considering just how hunched over his shoulders were (Straighten up, she felt like yelling, you look like an idiot!). 'Are first year students even allowed to choose subjects?'

'Oh.' Maka reached inside her bag to retrieve her Shibusen course guide. Five minutes of flipping through it later, she said 'No. We're not.'

'Not what?' God, this guy was absolutely infuriating.

'Not allowed to choose our subjects.'

'Oh.'

'Yeah.'

When they reached the apartment (her apartment now, she guessed – no, wait, their apartment), they were able to go about their own business, checking out the rooms and the furniture. The place was completely bare, save for two white, single beds in the (oh, thank the Lord) separate bedrooms, and a cream coloured couch in the living room.

'Only one bathroom.' Maka heard Soul say as she was leaning out of the window in one of the bedrooms.

'Oh.' She turned around to see him slouching (straighten up!) in the doorway, hands in pockets, avoiding her eyes. 'Is that a problem?'

'No. I was more worried about you.' Ha! He looked at her! Maka wasn't sure why this felt like such a victory, but it did.

'It's fine with me.'

'Ok.' With that, he left.

That had been perplexing. Why would she have a problem with sharing a bathroom? Was it because he was a guy? Did he think she was the sort of girl that gets upset about the toilet seat being left up? He already seemed to think her unworthy of being his meister, from what she'd seen in the piano room. Who was he to make such judgments about her?

Five minutes later, she had calmed herself down and returned to the living room. Seeing him lounging casually on the couch, she decided that, because of her forgiving heart and generous nature, she would sit next to him and try to make pleasant conversation, even if it killed her.

It had now been half an hour, and neither of them had said a word.

That didn't mean that it had been silent, oh no, because evidently this scruffy, grumpy, slouchy boy was determined to make her life a living hell. He kept playing with his fingers, tapping out unheard melodies on the armrest, occasionally making small, sucking noises with his mouth and tongue. His stomach rumbled every now and then, and although he would look faintly embarrassed, he didn't apologise. Maka knew that they should probably do something about dinner, but hell if she were going to be the one to suggest it.

Maka surreptitiously checked her watch. Forty-five minutes.

Oh, for Pete's sake!

'Look!' The unexpected sound of her voice after such a long period of silence made Soul jump, something which gave Maka a feeling of deep satisfaction, 'I don't know what your problem with me is, but we still have to live together for at least a month, so get over it.'

She expected the boy to be apologetic, or at least shocked, but instead he bit back.

'What makes you think I have a problem with you?'

'You won't talk to me! You just sit there, fiddling and making annoying noises!'

Soul opened his mouth to respond, but seemed to think better of it. He shrugged his shoulders and huddled into himself, looking away from her.

Great. He was probably just shy and unused to talking with girls or something. She'd probably just ruined his self-confidence, and now things would be irrevocably awkward between them, forever and amen.

After a short while, Maka asked quietly, 'What do you want to do about dinner?'

'I could really go for a burger right now.' Soul admitted.

As she walked to her suitcase to find her purse, she pondered about whether or not she should apologise. Had she even done anything wrong? What exactly had happened? She snuck a look at him from under her arm. He was crouched over his own suitcase, back towards her. Then, she saw his white-haired head duck down and try to sneak a look at her under his arm, exactly as she'd done. He met her green eyes with his red ones and for a moment they just stared at each other, before each blushed and turned away.

Straightening up, Maka said 'I know that there's a really nice burger joint a couple of streets from here, we could check that out.'

'Cool.' Soul was now standing up, 'I'll pay.'

'No, you don't have –'

'Trust me,' he said with a grin 'my family can afford it.'

Maka felt the urge to protest rising, the urge to tell him that she didn't need his money and that she could take care of herself just fine, thank you very much. But it was getting late and she was hungry, and maybe this was his way of apologising for the awkwardness or something.

Fine. She would let him win, but only just this once.