After that night, Maka didn't see him for a whole week. She wasn't preoccupied about his absence, he had been known to disappear from the city from time to time. It usually didn't take long, and so Maka continued her normal life without worries. The customers came and went, some regulars, some travelers, some foreigners, and some who wanted nothing but to cause trouble, those being the reason Maka always kept her dad's shotgun close to her behind the counter. Not that she knew how to properly use a shotgun, her father had refused to teach her, but she knew how to hold it menacingly enough to scare the evildoers away.
But the city was calm, as calm as a city can be, at least, and so Maka's days turned into nights and her nights into days without so much as a commotion.
Her day was nothing but a routine by now. She would work the night shift, wait for her Papa to take over, and then she would sleep until the sun was way up in the sky. She would read - read of faraway places and forbidden passions, and people who saved the world with nothing but bravery - and then she would return to the diner, as her Papa excused himself, claiming he had very important business to attend, although Maka knew exactly what type of business he was talking about, and the cycle would repeat itself until exhaustion. And Maka was exhausted.
She craved freedom. She needed to see the world. She wanted to be the one who was brave and the one whose love stories inspired nations and the one who visited all the beautiful, unbelievingly beautiful places she read about. But she was nothing but a small town girl, whose father had a little tendency to drown himself, whether in booze, or women, and whose mother had left, probably to live all the adventures Maka never could.
She realized why she liked the white-haired boy so much. He was different. Be it in the way he carried himself, the way his eyes seemed to always hide something, or just the way he looked, she knew he was different. And in her dreams, he was her ticket out of her black and white town.
So when he finally returned, his shoulders hunched forward and his eyes foggy with sleep, she placed a coffee in front of him without being asked to. After all, he seemed in desperate need of something that would keep him awake just a little longer.
He smiled softly at the cup, looking up with tired eyes and Maka wondered how, how could his eyes look so vivid when he seemed like he was so close to passing out, and she smiled at him too, to which he responded with a quiet thank you before downing the whole drink.
He asked for one more. She gave in, served him another cup of steaming coffee, but when he downed that one as well, despite it being scalding and asked for one more, she drew the line. "You know, I can refuse to sell alcohol to anyone who looks drunk. I say I can also refuse coffee to someone who looks as sleep deprived as you." She said, voice firm because he really needed to rest.
His laughter surprised her, low and husky, and something tingled in her stomach as she shivered. "You got fire." He said, and it sounded like a compliment so Maka nodded and mumbled a "thank you", before he continued. "What's your name?"
"Maka." She answered promptly, aware that this was not the first time he asked that question. But she tried not to hold it against him.
"Maka." He repeated, as if tasting the sense of her name on his tongue. Maka would have been affected, had this been the first time. "Mine's Soul."
She was taken aback. Never, since he had started frequenting the diner, had she told her what his name was. Her mouth hung open for a moment until she realized she looked like a fool and asked for clarification instead. "Soul as in… soul?" She tried, hoping not to offend him.
He laughed again, though it was squeakier this time around. "Soul as in soul, yes. It's dumb."
"It's not." She countered, quickly. "It's… Different."
"And since when is different good?" He asked, his tone more serious although the smile never left his face.
"I like different." She whispered, half hoping he wouldn't hear. But the look of surprise that took over his features told her he had, and she hurried to go serve the other customers, in a feeble attempt to hide from him and his gaze and why did she go and say something stupid like that? She barely even knew him and she had basically told him she liked him.
The rational part of her brain told her she was overreacting, that it was nothing but a friendly conversation and that she had nothing to worry about. But when she returned and found, in Soul's place, the money to pay for what he had consumed, she started to wonder if she had somehow pushed him away. She felt like banging her head on the wall.
And then, "We'll meet again.", one of the bills said, and hope bloomed in Maka's heart and she wondered if this was how birds felt when they flew because her stomach was in knots and her heart was in her throat and just who the hell was him to go and make her feel like that?