Part 2

The next few days pass without incident, which is weird because the boys expected a swift and terrible retaliation. Prank wars are common, apparently, what with teenagers and minimal supervision. According to Kid, they mostly last a week or two before one or both parties give up and focus on having fun.

Somehow instead of this being comforting, it's nerve-wracking. Soul is a basket case, peering over his shoulder every time he has to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. His other cabin mates, except for Ox, are totally carefree and nonchalant on the issue, poking fun at the noob for being so paranoid. The girls have always lacked in Prank Wars, Kilik recalls. Never willing to go the limit.

Ox, however, reminds them that Maka has never participated before, finding pranks childish and immature. Or lacking finesse. He grudgingly admits that she's of the same intelligence he is and, with her competitive ambitious nature, leads to a different type of threat. Add in the rest of the Reapers cabin…and they're in for something for sure.

The Reapers, Soul found out during the week, consisted of four girls who had roomed together since they were twelve. The Thompson twins, the two blondes Soul saw with Maka at the flagpole, joined their numbers last year and were responsible for messing up the plumbing in the Lagoonaloo after Black Star said girls couldn't do much damage. The boys to this day aren't really sure what they did, but Ox hypothesizes toilet bombs were involved.

Stranger still, the two girls are the adopted sisters of Kid whose dad owns and operates the camp. Soul is not happy when he discovers Kid's father isn't British in the slightest and his mind dreams of horrid reasons for why the dining building is called the Bloody Mess.

But, despite the threat of teenage female angst and hatred hanging over his head, Soul enjoys himself. He's gone tubing and practiced archery. He's learned how to kayak and canoe and the best way to make someone soar off the Blob, a huge striped floating monstrosity where the point is to sit near the edge and have someone jump at the other end to blast you into the air before you fall to the water.

Yes, Soul is glad that he came to the DWMA. And, though, he's apprehensive at first, he follows his cabin's lead and settles into the eldest group of campers which includes the Reapers cabin.

The twins are Liz and Patti, sports enthusiasts who used to attend intense athletic summer programs. They have aggressive sand volleyball tactics and vicious serves. Soul should know. He suffered a ball to the face after Liz winked and promised her own personal revenge for the bra incident. Patti, the younger, also enacted her version of payback when he got a spike to the ass in the same game. Luckily, Black Star walked away with quite a few bumps and bruises, too, which didn't make him feel as bad about his injuries.

All's fair in summer love and prank wars, so they say.

Speaking of summer love, in the Reapers cabin there is Black Star's own personal hubris, the raven-haired beauty named Tsubaki. Soul personally thinks she is the calmest teenage girl he's ever met. Tsubaki is peaceful and demure with a sweet smile and a welcoming personality. She makes him feel at home and, even though they're currently in a prank war, she commands peace between the boys and the girls in the name of summer camp spirit.

And people respect it.

Kim and Jackie are two inseparable best friends that have a knack for finding trouble and starting rumors. Or Soul thinks they're friends at first only to watch stunned as Kim gently pecks Jackie's lips after the tan, yellow-eyed girl brings her favorite ice cream to her once volleyball ended one day. Black Star snickers at his expression and elbows him in the ribs before he can make a fool out of himself. Personally, Soul's a little jealous. How awesome would it be to hang out and sleep over with the one you love without breaking any camp "boundary" rules? He's never been a guy who cares much about other people's love lives and neither was he one to nastily stare and think of lesbians as "super hot chicks." Kim is a little snarky for his taste but he, Jackie, and Kilik have intense musical discussions so he tolerates the bubblegum-chewing, pink-haired hipster always near the Pocahontas-esque Jaqueline.

Well, and Kim is a master storyteller. That also makes her tolerable and fun to be around. She's the one who has all of the best rumors and "do's and don'ts" of the camp.

Maka refuses to speak with him, the only girl he doesn't know much about except from eavesdropped conversations and honorable mentions. From what he can figure, she's smart and clever, though that he could tell from their first interaction. And she's a colossal nerd. She reads typically early in the morning, during their free time, and before the girls' hot counselor, Blair, calls lights out. So, basically, all the time. A day hasn't passed without the lithe dirty blonde carrying a book in her bag along with a personal med kit, a map, a camp schedule, a compass, and an always full water bottle.

The groups are gathered on the dock together, eating popsicles after the theme night, which consisted of a boot camp type obstacle course complete with a mud crawl. Soul isn't comfortable with his shirt sticking to his skin and mud caked from his nose to his ankles, but he's listening to Kim prattle on about the horrors of Dr. Stein, the camp's M.D. The younger campers are quiet as mice and unmoving, trapped in her undead scientist tale. Occasionally Black Star or Harvar howl into the night and everyone jumps while they high-five, but other than that there's no sound except for the crickets.

"They say he was searching for the secret to an immortal life, but…his experiment went wrong." Kim eerily whispers, speaking soft enough to give an air of mystery yet loud enough for the crowd to clearly hear everyone haunted word. Jackie to her right creepily adds sound effects. Soul never knew campfire stories could actually be scary. He himself pictures the time he ran into the scarred doctor with his gray, almost mechanical eyes evaluating him like a cat considering to pounce on a wounded bird. The guy gave him the major heebie-jeebies, which only made Kim's story more believable.

"Instead of rejuvenating his body, his machine ripped the doctor in two! But, so bent on immortality was our dear Dr. Stein, the two halves of his body sewed himself together…and now he can live forever, but not as he once was. Now he is an undead machine, a body with hardly any shred of humanity left, doomed to wander the world searching for some way to bring his soul back to himself."

Kim shrugs and leans back effortlessly, almost as if she was commenting about the weather, to admire her handiwork and raptured audience. "And since he's a machine he likes to pose as a doctor because doctor's can be all analytical and logical and stuff without people suspecting anything. Plus, everyone knows kids are the best things to experiment on if you're searching for immortality since we age so fast and so slow at the same time. And he and Kid's dad have a deal. No one knows what the DWMA stands for…except for Dr. Stein. He's allowed to keep any camper who dares to ask him why the camp is named what it's named."

One brave camper yells, "Bull!"

"Nuh uh. She's not lying." Maka joins in. Soul can't believe she's pouring fuel on the fire. He would've thought her no-nonsense, follow-the-rules self wouldn't agree with falsified tales about counselors. Guess not. "One year, when I was twelve, an older camper thought it would be funny to prove the rumors wrong. So…he went up to the infirmary one night and…never came back. And then, last year, a newbie dared a repeat offender to go up there and, because it was a summer camp dare, he did it…his parents came the next day because he was reported missing. They never found him. 'Member that, Tsu?"

Tsubaki sagely nodded her head, violet eyes glowing in the moonlight.

Half the kids looked like they were gonna piss their pants.

Soul is a little ashamed when he realizes he might be one of those kids. Forget Big Foot and Jason….Dr. Stein is the true summer camp nightmare.

The walk back to the cabins reminds him of how worn out he is and how grand it'll be to slip into dreamless sleep on his small, but comfortable cot. Until Sid, their buff and used-to-be-a-Marine counselor, stops them at the stairs.

"Alright, boys. Hit the showers!"

The Eaters moan in unison, a chorus of angry, sleep-deprived pigeons cooing their distress. Black Star argues quite a bit (the perks of having your foster parent work at the summer camp Soul guesses) but in the end the muscled man insists they shower before they climb into their bunks for the night. And you can't argue with Sid who's built like a tank and is steady as a rock. Though Black Star halfheartedly threatens a revolt, everyone, including the 'god,' can tell Sid would knock them all down with one hand. An elephant swatting flies full of teenage attitude. So, they exhaustedly stumble into the Lagoonaloo to quickly shower and get to bed.

At first, no one notices anything wrong. They are showering and the water is hot, but something feels…off. It isn't until Harvar begins yelling curses a sailor wouldn't dream of that they uncover the problem. Kilik flips on all the lights and there, covering their bodies and dripping from the shower heads, is bright, sticky red water.

"What the ever-lovin' fu-" Soul yelps, exiting the stream and patting himself down as best as he can, seeing his white towel hastily turn pink with dismay.

They gape at one another, wordlessly asking the same question. Soul's stomach twists with primal anger as he reaches a conclusion. Based on the other boys' expressions, he bets they blame the girls as well.

"I told you this would go too far," Kid whines. "Why can't we just follow the rules and have a good, peaceful relaxing summer."

It is after this comment that Ox hops to the bathroom to check if the sink water is running red as well, hoping there's an issue with the plumbing instead of the girls getting them this good. The next second he is near the stalls screaming something about periods.

He practically teleports back and waves a used pad (ew, disgusting) in his left hand, blood drained from his face.

"They put used pads in the water! Oh. My. Gawd!"

Chaos explodes in the Lagoonaloo in the late hours of the night as the boys scream bloody murder and begin hauling ass out of the bath house alternately yelling profanities and whining about how disgusting they feel. The worst part is they can't even fucking shower now.

Soul and Black Star are the only ones left. The white-haired teen blinks hoping to clear his vision of the unbelievable image. But, nope. Black Star is still standing in the red spray, his face twisted in a ghastly, depraved smile.

"…Black Star? Um, what are you doing?" As soon as the interrogative leaves his mouth, he knows he doesn't want an answer. However, Black Star is not one to pass up an oppurtunity to talk about himself and explain his actions.

The crazy teen doesn't disappoint.

"I'm bathing in the blood of my enemies! I will take their strength, like the Aztecs did, and they will pay dearly for this slight on Olympus." With that, Black Star throws his head backwards to laugh maniacally while Soul sniffs at his towel, a familiar scent invading his nostrils.

"Dude, I think it's just Koolaid…"

And Koolaid it was. Powdered Koolaid packed tightly behind the shower heads. They can't bathe for two days after the fact, the showers running day and night to wash out and dissolve the sweet sugar crystals.

Soul can't help thinking the price of a blueberry muffin is too damn high.

His worst day at camp ends up leading to his best, though he doesn't realize it at first.

The worst day starts with sticky clothes and more bug bites than he can count. In addition to this rough beginning, Black Star can't handle Liz's harsh gloating and decides the way to show her who's boss is to throw scrambled eggs at her smug face.

Admittedly, Soul thinks it's an excellent "ha ha, he got you" moment at the time until the incident mega-morphs into the biggest food fight he's ever seen. Honestly, it followed the teen movie-size standard.

And then he and Ms. Perfect Pigtails get blamed for the whole ordeal. Their punishment? To clean up the Bloody Mess hall.

Together. Which is worse than if Soul had been told to scrub it spotless by his lonesome.

It's been thirty minutes and the girl continues to uphold her refusal to talk with him. It's especially irritating because he's trying to ask questions about the cleaning such as where are the mops, where do we get the paper towels, where does the trash go, etc. Maka pointedly ignores him, excavating food from the dirty floor and walls at her own pace. Secretly the boy admires her resilience. The chick may be kind of rude and bitchy at times (at least toward Soul) but she'd make a great 007 or assassin. Her lips are, almost literally, sealed.

After a while he commences rambling out loud. He's not sure if it's because he's unnerved by the silence or because he's not used to being ignored in this manner. Sure, sometimes he forgets his own existence at some of his parent's parties, but it's more like he's asked the same question over and over and it requires the same polite answers repeated time and time again.

"I'm talked to, but not really. If that makes sense? Anyways, I don't know. You can keep the cold shoulder thing you've got going on if you want to, but I'm tired of the silence. I'd rather talk to myself than be quiet for the next hour or however long it takes us to finish this." He waves a hand at the food smeared windows and dirty floors, not noticing her focused gaze.

He starts sweeping and continues to babble.

"I was super surprised to find out you and Black Star were friends. You're so down to earth and he's so…I don't know. Up in space doesn't even begin to cover where he's out what with his god complex. But he's cool, you know? He spouts 'minions' and 'followers' crap, but he's a real friend. He gave me a nickname and clothes even though he didn't know if I was cool or not or a rich asshat or whatever. He just…welcomed me with open arms."

He shoots three feet in the air when her calm, cheery voice floats across the space between them.

"Yeah…he's always been that way. His real name…well, he was named after his biological dad and it's not my place to say, but it was a bad time for him. He prefers Black Star and Sid and Mira respect it. I thought he was a weirdo at first. I was a mean, know-it-all sixth grader and I hated boys." She pauses and rubs a hand over her face as she groans not once noticing his wide-eyed stare.

"Well, I'm still not very fond of them but Black Star, Kilik, and the others help with that. Anywho, Black Star made me rethink a lot of things. He's honestly one of my best friends ever, even though he lives like, hours and hours away from me. We write throughout the year and try and meet up every now and then along with some other campers." The stick-thin blonde softly smiles, eyes downcast as she replays happy memories.

Soul's heart beats a little bit faster and he chalks it up to the scare from before. Not because the sun is shining and he can see streaks of silver in her hair and shiny flecks in her eyes. Not because she's finally speaking with him and her voice reminds him of piano keys lightly pressed in the darkness.

Oh gosh. He's going poetic. What the hell is happening?

He's not—no. No, he can't be.

Breathe, Soul.

"Yeah, everyone here is pretty cool. Except for you."

Maka snaps her head to glare at him, lips puckered in a pout.

"What?" He unapologetically grins. "You have no chill."

"I have chill!" She stomps a foot and he can easily picture her as a fuming cartoon character. "I'm super chill!"

Soul rolls red eyes and he's pleased to see she's distracted by his irises up close. Maka steps nearer and crosses her arms, her green eyes locked on to his mutated genes.

"Sure. You've got chill. That's why you instigated a fight on the first night with the newbie at camp over a muffin."

He can see her ready a retort, she's so close he can literally see her building her words into an impenetrable speech behind her chrysanthemum lenses. But she stops and her chin dips a little.

"Yeah, well…I'm sorry. About that. That was…uncool. Like you said."

He doesn't know how to word. Never, ever did he expect an apology. Whenever the Muffin Battle was brought up Maka vehemently argued his fault and her innocence.

And here she is…sincerely apologizing? To him? Soul Eater? Soul Evans?

"Uh. It's alright. I mean, it was only a muffin?" He realizes he sounds idiotic when he adds a question mark, but Maka's slow burning smirk gives him hope for a friendship that didn't have a chance in Hell of succeeding.

They discuss family dynamics and he's more than a little scared of himself when he opens up and re-explains some of the stuff he babbled about earlier. She, in turn, shares some major personal things on her family: her parents are getting divorced because her father cheated multiple times with numerous women on her mother. It's made her very insecure around men.

"I think that's why I got so flustered and angry that first night. You were so close to me and I couldn't help feeling all weird and threatened. I kept thinking about my womanizing father and perverted men and I don't know. I guess I feel so insecure around males I just…overreacted." She admits. But with a mischievous gleam in her eye, she adds, "Though I did grab the muffin first."

"Not that you needed it." Soul snarks. "What with your cankles."

The blonde adopts an expression of dismay and Soul hastily backtracks. "I'm kidding, Maka. I'm kidding! Your ankles and, uh, calves are perfectly fine. Really tiny actually." He chuckles lowly to himself as she cocks her head to the side like a small bird. "Bet I could wrap my entire hand around one of them."

"Bring it."

And that's how Soul ends up with his hand wrapped around the delicate bones of her left foot, her exhales tickling the back of his neck as she leans near where he's kneeled to see if, in fact, he is right.

It blossoms from there. Innocent and unsuspecting. They clean some and play Slap Attack, a game Maka insists she's a beast at, though more often than not she's smacked by Soul's larger, quicker pianist hands. They talk a lot. Sometimes they tread into deep, dark waters that the other is completely amazed they can share with an almost stranger and sometimes they poke fun at one another. Soul prefers infuriating her because she makes the most hilarious noises and puckered faces. He soon comes to learn that with pleasure comes a heavy dose of pain when the petite blonde smacks him upside the head with her Book of the Day. It stings like a muthafucker, but he somehow smiles through the pain.

They end up kneeling on the ground, facing one another, the cleaning duties forgotten. He's animatedly discussing how pointless house music is while she's defending it with her every breath and they're leaning in towards one another and he's losing track of the conversation cause this pretty girl is amazing and actually really cool and holy shit are they actually gonna-?

The doors to the Bloody Mess are thrown open and Soul and Maka hurriedly push themselves to their feet. Sid drags in a cursing Black Star, an excited Kid, and a few other campers.

"It's come to my attention, Soul and Maka," Sid's growl booms and echoes off the walls of the empty building, "that it wasn't just you two who started the food throwing. Kid has graciously gathered some volunteers who have admitted their offense and are here to help you finish the job." He appraises the scene and his eyebrows barely perk up, but Soul catches it. His heart thunders like Niagara Falls because he's positive the counselor can tell something other than wiping scrambled eggs off the wall was going down.

Maka throws him a beaming smile before she steps forward to negotiate and delegate cleaning up the Bloody Mess.

Weeks pass in a blur and he and Maka become increasingly closer throughout, despite the ongoing prank war fading in and out in the background. They learn each other's favorite sodas and ice creams and swear a vow that whoever is closer to the beginning of the snack bar line gets the other person their preferred edible item of the day. They fight, some days constantly, but the fights are always entertaining and usually ends in everyone, including them, laughing in tears.

The theme night of his best day at camp is the paint war, an elaborate game involving balls covered in paint and with rules that are mostly made up by the counselors on the spot. The trick and specialty of this theme night is that instead of cabin against cabin they are randomly assigned into larger teams. The Reapers and the Eaters happen to be paired up together.

He's dodging balls soaked in paint left and right when he sees Maka fixing to be pummeled by a flying yellow orb. Soul narrowly reaches her in time to shove her out of the way and the two find themselves surrounded.

"Back to back?"

"Yep."

They sidle next to one another and, as partners, annihilate an entire enemy team. Soul protects Maka and catches the paint balls, uncaring as his white t-shirt is splattered with a collage of puke green, piss yellow, and an actually decent color blue. As soon as a ball is in his possession he tosses it to Maka who whirls and strikes faster than a cobra. They are a perfect mixture of offense and defense and are recognized by their cabins as the victors of the night. Even Black Star steps off his pedestal long enough to congratulate their secondary prowess. Course they're nowhere near his level yet, but hey, they have some potential.

Their victory is short lived as Sid pulls them aside during dinner, reminding them they're still on his shit list for their hand in the food fight. Soul glances at Maka to see if she's as unnerved by his cussing as he is (like, is he allowed to say that to them?), but she is more concerned with pouting and pointing out the unfairness of them being chosen for some wackadoodle personal job of Sid's.

"Well, if you two would calm down and listen, you might consider this a blessing as much as it is a curse."

The two teenagers simultaneously peer at the other out of the corner of their eyes. Maka cocks a bony hip out haughtily while Soul smirks.

"We're listening."

"Now see Soul here happens to be one of the few campers with a driver's license, which, if I'm correct, you brought with you in your luggage, right, Evans?" Soul squints his eyebrows as his stomach churns exactly like it did his first day of camp. He's not sure he likes where this is going. He nods gingerly while Maka sprains her neck glancing back and forth between the counselor and the camper. It's obvious she's dying to ask him questions about the driver's license exam and does he have a car and all the most bizarre, nosy questions only Maka Albarn would think of.

"Alrighty then. As I thought." The tall man bends at the waist to lower his head closer to the teens as if he plans on whispering a secret. "Since today was such a good day the counselors and the camp director have decided to give you juveniles some ice cream as a surprise reward. Only we don't have any more ice cream located at camp, so the two of you will be going to retrieve said ice cream for us." He grabs Soul's hand and drops a crumpled piece of paper in it. "Here's the list and," He digs around in his back pocket before producing a shiny business credit card, "here's the card."

Maka's eyes look ready to pop out of her head. "Sid,…is this legal?"

The military man snorts and murmurs, "You're practically an honorary adult here at the camp, Maka. I have absolute faith you'll keep the delinquent in check and bring the vehicle back in an appropriate manner and with all it's proper, unharmed parts."

She gapes at him, pigtails drooping in the humid evening air when he adds, "Oh. And on the list is some stuff Mira needs for the infirmary. She assured me you would know what brands to get and where to find them. There's a local corner store right off the highway that should have enough ice cream and pharmaceutical products so you only have to stop once."

And with that he hands them the keys to the most poorly kept crossbreed of van/humvee Soul's ever seen.

Maka fumes while Soul can only repeat the words, "Oh my gosh…"

Sid walks away a hand thrown over his shoulder in a half wave.

"Good luck. Be back in an hour."

Maka is hyperventilating, hands twisting in her lap a testament to her self control (she recently threatened to choke him if he stopped the vehicle), as he slides the transmission into park. The van shudders like a chained beast. It slowly dies with melodramatic putters and squeals when the keys are removed. Soul lifts his head in the nervous girl's direction, her glare coming up short because of her fear.

"Soul." She tries to sound tough but ends up whiny and shaky. "Sid told us to be back in an hour! It already took us thirty minutes to get to the store and another fifteen to find all the supplies. We don't have time for fast food! Plus, this is Sid's car and he's vegetarian."

His eyebrows shoot towards the ceiling. "Sid's a veggie? Seriously? That's so freaky. He's like…thicker than a WWE wrestler. I think he and the Rock could go head to head."

"Yeah, maybe. But that's beside the point! The point is he'll kill us if we bring meat in his van and he'll kill us if we don't get back to camp when he said to!"

Soul shrugs, not at all concerned. "Come on, Albarn. Live a little." He ambles out of the car watching Maka watch him as he opens her door and offers a hand. "Plus, as you so eloquently mentioned, it took us thirty minutes to get up here and, despite you running around like a chicken with your head cut off in the store, we spent so long there that, even if we sped a little, we wouldn't make it in time. Hence," He gesticulates emphatically towards the precious neon signs promising ambrosia served on toasted sesame seed buns. "Death Burger!"

She eventually concedes but not graciously. She slaps his hand away with a pout and falls the impressive distance to the concrete pavement without any indication of pain from her rough landing. Maka recovers quickly and saunters towards the Death Burger.

Before Soul can wonder if she's forgotten about him, she glances over her shoulder and can't help a small grin from shining through her evil eye.

"You coming or what? I'm hungry."

Two deluxe burgers, a grilled chicken sandwich, two orders of curly fries, and a couple of strawberry milkshakes later has them seated in a booth in the back corner of the restaurant aimlessly chattering.

"Ten minutes, kay, Soul? We can't stay here forever."

"Yeah, yeah." He mumbles with a mouth full of curly fries. They eat in silence for a few minutes before his big mouth opens and let's slip words he never meant to say aloud. "Too bad, though." He freezes as soon as they blow out of his lips, praying to any deity in the universe she doesn't catch it.

But this is Maka he's talking about. Nosy, smart, ever-listening and analyzing Maka Albarn.

The girl in question perks up, her grilled chicken sandwich half munched on and balanced between her delicate hands. Her words are food muffled as well but he knows before she speaks what she's going to say. "What's too bad?"

He attempts composure. "Huh? Oh, nothing. I was just saying how nice it is to eat a Death Burger again."

She is unconvinced. "So…when you said 'too bad' you were referring to 'too bad I can't clog my arteries with greasy burgers for the rest of my shortened lifespan'?"

"Somethin' like that."

They eat in silence a couple of minutes. Soul is unfortunately extra aware of the porcelain doll-size, pigtailed bookworm with a vicious arm located across from him, her swinging legs accidentally brushing against his every now and then. His throat is lodged with what feels like the missing basketball from the courts when Maka hesitantly clears her throat.

"Soul, um, look I…I think it's too bad, too."

He is dead. Or dreaming. Or both. His eyes are bigger than glowing alien flying saucers, he is positive, when he meets her giant green eyes and blushing cheekbones.

Cheesy radio music plays in the background and one of the fry cooks yells, "Order up!" But they are standing still as time passes around them and he can't believe that he's found himself in this situation. Does he say something to her? Should he or should he wait and see if she broadens her previous statement? Does this mean that the past couple of weeks have made an impact on her? Is she, maybe, feeling the same things he is?

Being sixteen and pining over the girl who orchestrated the bucket prank this morning (bucket of water drenched the Eaters when they exited the cabin) and who typically goes off on rants on how men are disgusting animals isn't the easiest.

She never opens her mouth again (except to continue eating) and he decides the smartest path is too keep quiet himself. Maka is more paranoid than a deer grazing as she finishes her sandwich and passes over the fries. He can tell from her jerky, rushed movements.

He wonders what thoughts are racing behind her grass green eyes when she pushes herself to her feet and practically jogs out the door. Soul follows, though more put off and therefore slower than the edgy Maka.

The drive back is almost unbearable. Soul wants to cry he's so messed up. How dumb is he to think that the man-hating, independent work-for-everything-you-got Maka Albarn would ever fall for the rich Soul Evans who was fed with a silver spoon his whole life?

When they arrive at camp, they find the Bloody Mess deserted and the campgrounds pretty much dead. Even the cabins interspersed through the woods are dark and appear untouched. Maka and Soul trudge their way up to the counselors' building, nicknamed the Death Scythe (for whatever reason), and knock on the door. Sid answers with a stoic expression and dull voice.

"Oh. You two. I forgot I sent you to get things. Ah well. There was another outbreak between the boys and girls so every one in the camp was sent to bed early without ice cream. We'll save it for tomorrow I guess."

And with that he swipes the keys from Soul's outstretched palm and slams the linoleum door shut.

Together they canter back down the path to where it splits for the boys' and girls' side because who would want to walk solitarily through creepy, ominous woods with no sound or light. Soul tries his best to keep his eyes off of her, but has trouble with this endeavor. To be honest, he wants to say something but doesn't know to. Doesn't know what will make things better. Hey, let's just continue being friends and forget how we both said we wanted to stay at a burger joint alone together forever or hey I like you and let's make it during our next archery session?

Probably the best option is to not mention anything at all and crawl into bed to await the new day. He is actually thrilled it's lights out already. Then, no one will see his pained expression or pathetic tears over love lost and white-haired wealth freaks who never get the girl.

Just before he turns his feet on the path that heads towards Olympus and the Eaters cabin Maka grabs his elbow, her touch sending warmth to his stomach and skipping fireflies down his spin. He meets her eerily bright stare in the night and, though he can't quite make out her button nose or pink lips, he imagines what her face looks like.

They stand there awkwardly her hand viselike in her grip. He's getting frustrated because, seriously? If she's going to imply she feels similar to him and then ignore him for almost an hour, she really needs him to run away and lick his wounds.

He's about to say so when she approaches him and all air leaves his lungs. Her gentle pants rattle his heart and Soul's not sure he'll ever breathe right again when she starts to whisper.

Forget breathing. His heart will never have a regular tempo after this.

Meet me outside the Reapers cabin. Four hours.