A/N: Yes, I am AAAALLLIIIIVE! Don't worry, I'm well aware how overdue this update is. I love this story and have a strong desire to finish it, but school is what hinders me. I'm about to graduate and I'm pre-med. Do the math: school sux. A shout out to my girl endsoftime who proofread and edited. Your input helped a lot!

Chapter 9

Sugar, We're Goin Down

The decision to move in together was a mutual decision more than anything. It's not like I already had an apartment and let Soul come live with me or vice versa. No, we both decided upon it, went apartment shopping, and moved in together by 13 years of age.

My father, of course, wasn't too keen on the arrangement. That's why we didn't tell him until the lease was already signed. See, he didn't have much control over the situation, or any situation for that matter. Mama had just left a few weeks prior, leaving me alone with the letch, and Soul was on the verge of murdering his roommate at the Shibusen dormitories. He'd complain non stop about how Chuck was so messy, full of himself, and needed a reality check.

The last straw was when I went missing the day Mama moved out. Well, of course I knew where I was, but to Soul I went missing. I was actually hiding in the girl's bathroom on the fifth floor by the library, crying. Soul had violated 7 school rules and injured two people searching for me. Finally, the dope texted me and I told him where I was. The next thing I saw were his shoes on the other side of the stall and I heard him muttering through the door if I was alright. We ended up hanging out in that bathroom all day, sitting on the sinks with two bottles of Coke, talking about everything.

That was how we reached our mutual decision to move in together. It wasn't easy those first few weeks, especially since Papa would randomly drop by to make sure Soul "kept it in his pants," and I was still emotionally coping with Mama's absence. But it worked itself out. I think if we hadn't moved in together, we might not still be partners. Soul was seriously considering murdering his roommate.

It became a habit to rise early, even when I had been laid off duty due to injury. 'Over-achiever' I believe was the term Soul used. I rolled my eyes at his words floating in my head, simultaneously stretching carefully, mindful of the bandages tugging at my skin around my torso. An assortment of cloth bandages, burn ointment, and tape cluttered my nightstand. I grabbed the items and threw back the covers, proceeding to scoot out of bed and over to the mirror leaning against my closet door.

It was a surprisingly involved process to change the bandages. The first day Soul helped me, but we ended up bickering about it so I decided to try it on my own. It kind of turned into a morning reflection routine. I could face myself in the mirror, address the things I had to do today, and introspect on my life. It was soothing to say the least, especially with the events of late.

I think we were all shaken up from fighting the shaman. Kid had been particularly moody, giving me little to no information every time I called for an update.

"I'm working directly with intel, Maka," he'd say with an irritated sigh. "This is on a completely different scale than what we've dealt with before."

Black*Star and Tsubaki were too distracted by their recent engagement to focus on the shaman much. Black*Star did call to make sure I was healing alright and Tsubaki has visited the girl still comatose in the hospital. Other than that, they've been making arrangements, bargaining with parents, etc.

Soul has been the most uncooperative so far. He hasn't spoken much about the Shaman or my wound or the little girl dying in the hospital, but he's been prone to arguing with me about anything lately. For example, two days ago I caught the whiff of cigarette smoke on his hoodie. He knows how disgusted I am with smoking, especially bringing that smell into the house. He'd never smoked before! When I confronted him about it, he deflected saying that it wasn't any of my business. "None of my business?" I remember screeching at him. Then we had a good ol' fight about it. He claimed it was an occasiona thing, not an addiction. Yeah, that's what everyone says. All in all, a bowl of ice cream ended up on the kitchen floor, I cried angry tears, and he left for the night. That was our biggest fight in quite a while actually. Since, he's just been real short with me and hasn't been around much.

I stared at myself for a couple more moments before standing up to find some clothes. The bandages were too bulky for my usual attire at this time of year, so I've been borrowing Soul's shirts.

I dug around in the dryer in the kitchen and yanked up a yellow shirt of Soul's that had big black letters across it saying, "SOUL MATE." Sure it was considerably large on me, but I rolled up the sleeves and bunched it up around my waist. This shirt matched perfectly with a pair of dark skinny jeans I had and completed the look by doing my hair in messy pig tails.

Satisfied with myself, I went back to the kitchen to get some breakfast. Deciding on cereal, I grabbed a box out of the cupboard and a bowl and spoon. Just as I was getting the milk out of the fridge, Soul emerged from his bedroom and sat his half-asleep self down at the table. So I grabbed another bowl and spoon for him.

"Hey, can I use the car today?" I asked nonchalantly as I handed him his things.

He looked longingly at his bowl, probably wishing it would fill itself, and then responded, "Uh, what? Sure, whatever."

"Ok. I'll take good care of it, I promise."

Soul seemed to check out of reality for the remainder of breakfast. Actually, I was surprised to even see him up this early on a day off. He was having trouble sleeping the past few nights. I'd wake up randomly in the middle of the night and hear the TV going in the living room, then he'd sleep most of the day, sometimes late into the afternoon. I'd already asked over dinner last night if something was bothering him, but since he's been so testy lately he snapped at me that everything was fine and it was just "a touch of insomnia." Whatever.

I placed my bowl and spoon in the sink and walked into the bathroom to brush my teeth. Soul picked up his bowl and followed me, leaning against the doorjamb munching away on his Coco Puffs.

"I'm running out of clothes," he said.

"Well then, I suggest you do the laundry more often," I retorted, focusing on my reflection in the mirror as I wetted my toothbrush. I wasn't going to waste a good glare at "His Royal Rudeness" right now.

"I have a pile of shirts in my closet you can have. I outgrew them a while ago."

"Fine, I'll wear those from now on. But I'm going to be late if I have to change right now."

"Aren't you just going to the hospital?" His spoon clanged against the bowl as he secured it, ready to start drinking the left over milk. The past couple days I had gone to visit Cindy and Ross in the hospital.

"No." I spat out the foam and started rinsing. "I'm meeting my father for an early lunch. It's our monthly date thing."

"Oh. You don't think he'll be suspicious about you wearing . . ." Soul motioned to my upper body with his empty bowl.

"Suspicious about what?" Why was Soul being so weird this morning? "Soul! My shirts won't fit around these bandages."

"I know, I know. But that man gets his undies in a bunch if he so much as whiffs my cologne on you."

"He'll just have to deal with it then," I huffed, pushing past him to grab my shoes by the front door. "Sheesh, Soul. It sounds to me like you just don't want me wearing this shirt!" I bent over to tie my shoes. The last thing I wanted was to argue with him this morning. Over a shirt, too.

"No, that's not what I . . . nevermind. I just didn't want your father thinking the worst of you, alright?" He rubbed his face with both hands, then scratched his chest sleepily. "I'm sorry."

I looked up at him, trying to figure out what was going on inside of his head to make him act so strangely. "Whatever. Look, I'll be home in a couple hours." And with that I snatched the car keys off the kitchen counter and headed out the door. Getting in the car, I cranked whatever CD Soul had loaded and sped out of the back parking lot with the sunroof open, letting the slightly angsty music drown the frustrated feelings threatening to interfere with my list of other emotional hurdles to deal with today.

I turned down some side streets and into the back parking lot of a strip of little shops and restaurants. After killing the engine, I did a few breathing exercises to calm myself, not wanting this morning's episode with Soul to spill over into the pending disaster of my father-daughter date. Ok, so I was over reacting. I think I was already pissed off to begin with and it felt like he was attacking me this morning. Crap, and I had yelled at him. But I had to swallow these feelings of regret surfacing: I had a father-daughter date to get over with. I locked up the car and walked into the quaint little Italian bistro.

My father already had a table by the window, a red and white checkered table cloth spread out with a bread basket and menus. Three menus to be exact. How strange.

"Maka! Oh my precious, darling, beautiful baby girl!" he gushed, standing up and kissing the top of my head.

"Hi, Papa," I stated and sat down. He sat across from me and smiled wide, barely containing his over-excitement. That is, until his eyes saw my shirt.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he ground out, pointing accusingly at my chest, eye atwitchin'.

"Papa!" I slapped at his pointing finger. "Don't make a scene! It's just a shirt, it doesn't mean anything."

"Oh really? I'm sure that's what he told you before he FORCED HIMSELF UPON YOU!" My father sprang up, shaking fists at the ceiling, steam rushing from his nose.

"Papa, sit down, people are staring," I hissed, grabbing my father's shoulder and shoving him back down into the booth. "Soul did not force himself on me. Soul Mate is the name of a band and I'm wearing this shirt because the bandages prevent me from wearing my own tighter shirts."

Papa slowly sat down and scowled. "Fine, fine. If that's you're story, I believe you."

"You ready to order?" a waitress suddenly asked, making Papa jerk up from his scowling.

"Uh, no, sorry! Not yet, we're still waiting on someone. She should be here any minute!"

"Alright, I'll pop over when she gets here." The waitress left us alone.

"Papa," I said, a weird, sick feeling in my stomach, "who are we waiting for?"

"Ah! Ha ha haha! It's a surprise!"

With the look on his face and the nervousness he displayed, I almost wondered for just a second if . . . if my mother was meeting us too. I hadn't seen her in I don't know how long! Could it be he convinced her to come out and see me? Oh crap, and I was wearing Soul's shirt! If I had known, I would have worn something more decent—

"Why hello, Spirit!"

"Hello, darling!" I heard him give her a peck on the cheek, but I dared not look up. "Hon, I'd like you to meet my daughter."

"Hi, I'm Keiko! You must be Maka, Spirit's told me so much about you."

Finally I remembered my manners and mechanically looked up at the woman extending her hand towards me. Definitely not my mother. The woman had a heart shaped face, framed by wavy auburn locks. Her frame was slender, but just curvy enough to be pleasing to the eye. And her eyes were a peculiar shade of green. Just who was this woman?

"H-hi! Yes, I'm Maka, Spirit's told me nothing about you." I smiled warmly, hoping it'd stretch my face enough to hide the disappointment.

After shaking hands she sat down next to my father and he put his arm around her. "Sweetie, Keiko is my girlfriend. We've been dating for a couple months now—"

A couple months? How had I missed that? Oh yeah, I rarely ever talked to my father. But the way he carried himself with her. He was still goofy, but with a note of seriousness. She giggled at all the right times, he calmly went on about how they met at Shibusen library, and so on and so forth. I wasn't really paying attention. I seemed to go into auto pilot by that point.

"That's nice. I'm sorry I've been too busy to finally meet you." I quickly scanned the menu with my finger, trying to focus on something other than my whirling thoughts.

"Oh that's quite alright!" the woman beamed, also picking up a menu. "Spirit has told me all about your important missions. What an honorable position on the Special Ops team, too! Spirit's so proud."

I looked up and smiled at her, then at my Papa. "Yeah, he tells me that every day."

The waitress came and we ordered food. I even forgot what I had ordered I was so disoriented. What the hell was my father doing dating? Dating! Who in the world would date him with his reputation? She seemed such a nice, sensible lady. Do I warn her? Has she already been warned?

"So, you must have a pretty powerful weapon by your side. You are a meister, right?"

I looked up from playing with the water ring my glass had left on the table. "Yes, I am. He's a Death Scythe named Soul Eater."

"Like Spirit-chan! Oh how wonderful! I bet your father inspired you."

"Heh, yeah, something like that." I returned to playing with my water ring. Papa laughed nervously across from me, remembering, I'm sure, all my threats to him about my plans to overthrow him.

"Excuse me, Keiko," my father said suddenly, making to scoot out of the booth. "I need to run to the little boys' room." Keiko slid out to allow him to leave. As the two of them stood there quite close to each other, my father gave her a brief peck on the temple before scampering off to the bathroom. Slightly a-blush, she sat back down across from me and smiled.

"So, I'm curious about your weapon since Spirit barely ever mentions him," she said, clasping her hands on the table as I nibbled on some of the complimentary bread. "From what I've heard he's not only good looking, but a powerful weapon." Keiko wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

I almost choked, honestly, since the last thing I wanted to do was talk about that annoying, whiny, sloppy—"Yes, he's quite powerful. My father just likes to deny his existence most times, hence not mentioning more about him to you." Keiko giggled. "He's pretty much my best friend. He's got his moments of complete asshole-ness, but he's a pretty good guy, even rivaling my father when it comes to overprotectiveness of me. But then again, he's my weapon. We're extremely reliant on each other to succeed and defeat whatever enemy we're facing. This is what it means to be a meister/weapon team."

"I see," she said, smiling warmly at me, as if thinking of something nostalgic. "You guys are quite loyal to each other, am I right?" Then she added, blushing at the table, "Soul sounds a lot like Spirit-chan. I bet that's why he dislikes him so much."

I almost choked for the second time that day. Soul like my father? Was this woman on crack? Soul was everything my father was not. Especially the loyal part. Papa didn't know loyal if it had kicked him in the groin.

"Umm, Keiko?"

"Yes, Maka?" Her eyes were so warm, so inviting to listen to whatever I was going to say. Maybe this is why my father picked her. She was strong within but quite nurturing.

"Has anyone ever told you . . . I mean," I sighed, trying to find the right words to say so as not o offend or scare her. "Have you been warned about my father's . . . wandering eyes?" I grimaced, more for her sake. I was quite open about the fact that my father was an unrepentant adulterer.

Keiko's eyes widened slightly, then she smiled warmly at me. "Maka, I've worked in that library for a while, I hear all kinds of gossip from students and faculty alike. How did you think I knew Soul was good-looking? I'm no cougar, the girls constantly chatter about him." I definitely felt my cheeks heat up from this statement. "Likewise, I know full well why your mother divorced him."

"Oh, alright," I replied, slowly. "Just making sure, um, you were aware, you know."

"Hello, ladies! Hope you had some good girl talk whilst I was gone!" I started at my father's exclamation. Papa had Keiko scoot out again to sit back down.

The waitress was right behind him, handing out our food. We did not approach the subject of Soul again the rest of the meal, mostly keeping it to small talk such as my love of books and which ones were my favorite, Keiko's similar love of books since she worked at Shibusen's library, and of course my father's PTSD as a result of Stein. Stein somehow always creeped up into my father's conversations. I was beginning to worry if he needed to go back to therapy.

I had to keep a keen focus on my plate or on the window to prevent my puking all over the table as Papa and Keiko did cutsy-couply things like holding hands and touching noses, and the giggling. Oh the giggling!

Then my mind kept wandering to what she had said about Soul. Yes, he was good looking, but the girls still talked about him? I thought when he had made it clear that he was going to remain my partner they'd backed off. I guess I wasn't as observant as I should have been around him. I wasn't possessive of him, if that's what you're thinking! No, I was simply looking out for him. He has never shown those girls much interest anyways. No clue why, but he never did really.

"Sure, Tsubaki, a movie night sounds fun!" I exclaimed to her on the phone as I drove back to the apartment.

"Perfect! I could use a break from all this wedding stuff."

"I know what you mean. Not about the wedding though, but needing a break. I just came back from my monthly father-daughter date."

"Oh! That's right! How did that go?"

"It . . . went ok. Um, I'm driving, so I should let you go before I crash Soul's car, hahaha."

"Yes! Oh my, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were driving. I'll text you about the movie then!"

I clamped my phone shut and tossed it on the seat next to me, exhaling long and hard. Anything to distract me from how I was feeling at the moment would be great. Well, the apartment sure needs cleaning. With me out of commission, Soul's let the apartment get a little cluttery. Perfect, I can clean the hell out of our house.

I heard the door slam as I was wiping down the stove. It was Soul.

"Where've you been?" It wasn't demanding or accusing. Just a simple question.

"Out for a jog," he said, breathless. He reached behind him to grab his shirt and in one fluid motion, yanked it over his head. I have to admit, seeing Soul's slight muscular build all sweaty like that made my heart pound just a little harder. Yes I'm his partner and best friend, but that doesn't mean I'm not attracted to him. "I'm gonna shower quick. Is it cleaning day already?"

"No," I had to stop my eyes from attempting to trail down his exposed torso. I mean, come on, it's not like I've never seen him shirtless before! Gosh, what Keiko said was getting to me, that had to be it.

He disappeared into his room. "You even cleaned my room?" he asked, surprised but not upset or anything.

I walked over to his doorway and leaned against the wall. "Yeah, sorry, I got carried away again."

He frowned as he sniffed a shirt from his laundry basket. "Father-daughter date go that bad?"

I opened my mouth then closed it again a couple times, not sure how to explain it to him. He patiently waited as he sifted through his laundry basket. Finally I said, "It was unexpected."

"Ah," he said before selecting a shirt and some jeans. "I'll be quick then." He walked past me and into the bathroom to shower. I sighed and grabbed his laundry basket off his bed and put it back in his closet. Then I continued my work in the kitchen. That's another thing I respected about him: he doesn't force things out of me, he lets me tell him in my own time.

Only ten minutes later, I heard the water shut off and Soul emerged from the bathroom toweling his hair dry, whistling a tune. He seemed to be acting less weird than he did this morning. Maybe he just needed to get active a little and the jog helped? Who knows, he was probably just PMSing. Goodness, guys are so difficult to live with sometimes! I scrubbed a little harder at the pudding stain on the floor.

"Hey Maka?" he called.

"Yeah?" I answered, dropping my rag on the kitchen table and going into his room.

"Where'd you put all those records I had on my bed?" Soul was on his hands and knees, looking under his bed.

"Oh, I put them on the desk you never use."

Soul looked back at me, then up at his desk. "Ah, thanks." Soul got up and headed to his record player.

I was just about to turn and leave when Soul stealthily grabbed my hand and pulled me into a dancing position. He grinned at my surprise. I had more things to clean, what was he doing now? The music started; a waltz.

Oh.

"I'm no good at waltzing, remember?" I said irritably, eyes instantly to our feet. Crap, how was I supposed to begin again? If this was an attempt to make up for being such a pissy roommate, it wasn't working.

"Don't worry, just follow my lead," he coolly whispered, pressing lightly on the small of my back.

Surprising myself, I didn't protest with the excuse of more cleaning to do. For some reason, I felt I needed this. There hadn't been much to clean in the apartment, but I needed to focus my energy on something other than the strange pangs of hurt and frustration with the new development in my father's love life.

We stepped backwards and forwards to each beat, a comfortable silence between us until I finally spoke up.

"I'm sorry I got mad at you this morning. I was . . . over reacting."

"It's alright," he said, barely above a whisper.

Another long pause during which I stumbled slightly and almost stepped on his barefoot.

"Maka, is something bothering you?"

"Hm?" I said, looking up into his crimson orbs boring into me. Shouldn't I be the one asking him that?

"You seem oddly quiet. Not to mention, you're cleaning like a banshee."

Backwards. Forwards. Side-step. "Oh." Should I tell him? Why wouldn't I tell him? Oh yeah, because he's been rather testy these past couple days. "It's probably just PMS."

Soul stopped our dancing. "Maka, you usually inflict severe pain on me when you're PMSing."

"Well, it's not like you've been Mr. Nice lately either!" I felt a little pressure on my back, signaling me to start up again. "Is something bothering you?"

He looked a little surprised for a minute, almost like he either didn't expect my question or hoped I wasn't going to ask. Glide. Spin. Twist. "Nope."

"Lie."

"No. You asked if something was bothering me, and something isn't bothering me." He smirked mid twirl at his cleverness. "Don't worry about it, I'd tell you if I felt it necessary. But, Maka, your wavelength is all over the place. You weren't like this this morning. You were crabby but not . . . not confusing like this."

Darn. He caught me. All my emotions were suddenly whooshing back on me. Maybe I was PMSing? I let out a shuddering breath, ceasing movement. "My father's dating someone."

Soul's eyes got wide. "What the hell?"

"I know, I know." My thumb pressed against his shoulder, spurring us back in motion. Forward. Sideways. Back. "She's really nice and she's beautiful, but the whole time I couldn't stop thinking of my mother. He was being so sweet to this other woman but cheated several times on my mother. She even called him loyal for Kami's sake!" I felt my eyes start to sting.

Soul stopped our dancing again. His hands left their positions and cupped my face, forcing me to look into his scarlet eyes. "There's no way she can replace your mother. We both know that." Then he reached down and grabbed both my hands in his, our foreheads leaning against each other. "And there's no way your father can make up for his lack of loyalty to you or your mother, but he does love you. He's just really bad at showing it."

I nodded and smiled. "You're such a dork." That earned a little chuckle from him. You know, Soul can be such a jerk sometimes (like this morning, hrm!) but at times like these, he knows exactly how to handle me. Those heavy feelings seemed to fall away almost instantly. Soul was here, I had nothing to worry about.

He suddenly smiled wide at me. I smiled back, feeling so light and warm inside. Both of us slowly closed our eyes and just stood there, resonating, breathing to the music, my arms loosely around his neck, his around my waist.

"Thank you, Soul," I whispered, leaning closer so our noses were touching.

"Anytime, princess," he whispered back, our hot breath mingling in the small space between our lips.

The cloud of emotions prevented me from thinking straight about what we were doing, almost like instinct just started taking over. Soon I felt his head turn ever so slightly, coming closer; my lips parted, waiting for his.

Suddenly there was some shouting followed by three loud pounds on our front door. I pulled back a bit, as if reality was pulling me out of this little dream. "That would be Black*Star," I sighed.

"He knows where the key is," Soul replied, not letting me go.

"He'll break down the door before he even bothers to look for it," I whispered. Soul kept his eyes closed as I gently slid out of his hold and softly glided to the front door. My cheeks were burning when I opened it to let them in, thinking about it. We were really going to kiss just now. Holy shit.

"Took you long enough!" Black*Star loudly complained, walking in past me and strutting towards the kitchen table.

"Sorry, your highness," I scoffed, and scowled at him. "And to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Soul emerged from his bedroom, saw me scowling at Black*Star, and decided to also scowl at Black*Star. "Dude, no need to be rude."

Black*Star burst out into a loud guffaw. "Sorry, guys! I'm just trying to be all serious! I'm a messenger!"

Soul and I exchanged confused glances. Black*Star continued, "Kid sent me. Looks like another student got targeted and is now in a coma. We gotta head to the hospital. Why do you guys look so red?"

"Why didn't Kid just call us?" I asked, feeling a new batch of emotions. I needed to sit down or punch someone, one of the two. Was I still red?

"Hmmm, something about the cell phones. He didn't want to use them. Now come on, the truck's waiting outside!" Black*Star fist pumped then headed for the front door again.

I only had a vague idea of what was going on, but decided to hold my questions for Kid himself. Soul and I followed him out.

Tsubaki was waiting in the passenger seat of Black*Star's beefy Ford F-150. Soul and I climbed into the back seat. I'm not sure if I was conscious of it, but I was keeping a general distance from Soul and avoiding his eyes altogether. Black*Star jumped in the driver's seat and headed for the hospital. Usually I hate driving with Black*Star because he's so bad at it, but I had not the strength to backseat drive today. Instead, I leaned my head against the cool window, hoping it would bring the fever out of my face.

Soul had never before pulled a move on me like that. Yeah, we've held hands and snuggled and pecked on the cheek, but never a full on, sober lip smack! Ok, there was that one time, I was drunk and made out with him, but I was drunk! Oh God I feel mortified. What if we had kissed? Was that Soul's intention all along? Why would he want to kiss me? And then it dawned on me. Was our friendship suddenly more than just very close? Uh oh, things can get very complicated if that happens.

BANG! My head smacked against the window.

"OW! BLACK*STAR! Slow down at the speed bumps!"

In an odd, somber silence we all stood round the hospital bed where poor Cindy lay, still hooked up to machines. I glanced over at Soul who was standing next to me. His gaze, however, was not directed toward the little girl sprawled on the bed but on her partner staring hollowly at her. Ross. Poor boy. I bit my lip, holding back the lump surfacing in my throat remembering that helpless feeling when there's nothing you can do for the person you pledged to protect.

Everyone's heads snapped up as soon as the door opened and Kid stepped in.

"Team," he simply said, motioning for us to leave. Almost like we rehearsed it, we filed out quietly and slowly into the hall. For a brief moment, I had reached forward and linked pinkies with Soul. Yeah, I know it might sound stupid, but it felt necessary at the time. Just enough physical intimacy to feel less alone; less afraid.

We all huddled in the hall, same air of solemnity as in the room. I heard Kid suck in a deep breath before proceeding in a low voice so only we could hear him, "Another victim was brought in last night. Another young female student from the same class as Cindy. This time they were with a team, but the Shades only targeted the one young lady. I just got back from the debriefing of the other team members, and they gave us more of an insight to what the Shaman is after."

We exchanged some anxious glances with each other before Kid continued.

"The last team to encounter the Shaman informed me that it appeared that the Shaman was using one of Cindy's abilities against them. Cindy is a unique meister who has the ability of soul protect, like a witch. The young team did not even sense the Shaman coming before he attacked with his shadow puppets."

Tsubaki gasped softly. I, too, was taken aback. So the Shaman can use others' abilities. "So is he targeting those with special souls?" I asked.

Kid nodded at me. "Yes. Thus, you were also targeted for your soul, Maka. I doubt it was your anti-demon wavelength, probably your Grigori soul."

"Are those souls . . . is the Shaman taking their souls?" Tsubaki stuttered out.

Kid sighed. "It seems likely. We're not entirely sure because the person is still alive, just comatose. Intel suggests they must remain alive for the ability to still be usable. In essence, the Shaman is borrowing their souls' abilities."

"Then what's special about the other girl's soul to make it a target?" Soul asked, his bangs hiding his darkening face.

"Lilly had a very rare weapon form. She was an elemental weapon, controlling water. Elemental weapons are some of the most powerful weapon forms, as you know. With the Shaman in control of her abilities, bad things could happen with this earth's water supplies."

Everyone was silent, digesting the grim information. "So how do we stop him?" Black*Star yelled, causing most of us to start.

Kid stared him down. "With soul protect, even Maka wouldn't be able to sense him. We have to wait until he appears again. He has a pattern of lying low for a while after an absorption. Be prepared this week, we might have to go into action at anytime. No cell phones off at night, understood?"

"Hai!" we all responded. I guess the meeting was adjourned for now. I felt too wired up to go home now, I wonder if the others wanted to go out for dinner? Wait a minute, where was Soul?

"Soul?"

His back was to me, overlooking the rest of Shibusen, a trail of smoke drifting from the object pinched between his finger and thumb. That bastard, smoking again. He knows I hate it.

"You're going to get cancer," I stated. He took another drawl and chuckled, but didn't respond otherwise. So I marched right up to him and snatched it from his hand.

"Che," he said, probably figuring I was going to smash it under my shoe. I thought I was going to as well until I lifted the cigarette to my own lips and sucked in a lung full of death. Turning away from Soul to hide my sputtering (it'd been a while since I've actually had a cigarette), I took another inhale, and let it seep out my nostrils slowly. Finally, I turned haughtily and gave it back to him with as much smugness as I could muster, not bothering to look him in the eye although I pictured a mix between amusement and shock on his features. I remained there in front of him staring down at our shoes. I heard him inhaling on the cigarette again.

"I'm going to find out." He knew I meant more than just about his secret cigarette stash.

Soul dropped the cigarette to the ground before grinding it into the dirt. I peeked up at his eyes as he grinned slyly. "So what do we do now?" I knew he meant more than just about the Shaman situation.

"Kick the bastard's ass."

His grin grew wider. "I love it when you talk dirty like that." He leaned down and lightly kissed my forehead before turning around and heading back into the building.

You know what? Things had been hopelessly complicated between us for a long time by now I have realized, because at that moment, as I watched him saunter into the hospital, I was aware of how attracted to him I really was. But let the complications come; he was my Soul after all.