A tiny girl with two blonde pigtails looked up at her father. Curious green eyes bore into the soft blue. "Yes, Maka?" Spirit asked, grasping her small hand in his large one. "Where's Mama, daddy?"

Spirit sighed. His daughter poked him in the side. "Well, where is she?" Maka demanded, her hands on her hips. Spirit knelt down, and brought up a map showing Italy on his phone. "She's in there?" Maka asked, poking at the phone and sliding her sticky fingers over the screen. "No, she's in Italy." Tears abruptly slid down the girl's face and Spirit held her close. "Will she ever come back?"

"...Yeah, Maka, she will."

And return she did. Black-clad with mascara colored tears running down her face, Kami stood in the arms of her ex-husband, holding a handkerchief over her mouth and sobbing her heart out. The couple stood in front of the white casket adorned with bloodred roses, silently pleading for their daughter to come back. Maka looked peaceful and lovely in her satin bed, her hair drawn up into a bun instead of its usual pigtails, wearing a soft white dress that had lace crossing over the hip, leading into a perfectly even bow that Death the Kid would be satisfied with if the situation had been different.

Friends and family members littered the pews at the solemn church; even Lord Death had come. Finally, the couple went to their seats, and waited for the ceremony to start. An old man stood up and jogged over to the wooden podium set beside the coffin. "We are here today to mourn the death of daughter, partner and Meister Maka Albarn..." he began to drone..

Spirit looked around, frowning even more deeply, and looked around again. What the hell! Where is he...?

Suddenly, the doors in the church burst open, letting bright rays of light into the dark room filled with sorrow. And in the doorway, Soul 'Eater' Evans stood, wearing a fine black suit with a light yellow rose in hand. He stalked up the aisle, and stood in front of the gleaming casket, then leaned down.

"Maka... this look doesn't suit you," Soul said quietly. He leaned down, picked up the dead girl's hands, and made her 'hold' the yellow rose he had brought. "I'll... miss..." his voice cracked. He straightened the flower on her chest and looked at her face one last time.

Or maybe, not for the last. Soul stared at Maka's forehead. Blinked. Stared again. Something wasn't right.

There wasn't a dark, jagged scar across her hairline anymore.

Just to be safe, and disregarding the gasps of disapproval and a shout from Spirit, Soul slid open Maka's eyes. No, these weren't the same green. Maka's eyes were a dark green with flecks of gold in them; these eyes were a light, blank green that didn't have a dot of gold to be found.

Turning on his heel, Soul faced the crowd before him. "This isn't Maka." Spirit, fed up with his behavior, jumped out of his seat and lept to his feet, stomping up to the white-haired boy and holding him up by the neck of his suit. "Who do you think you are, coming late to my daughter's funeral then announcing all this fake bulls-"

"It's not her. The eyes are different and there's no scar on her hairline. Plus, there's no mole on her right ear." And upon the first look, Soul was right; the eyes were different, and there was no sign of the other marks to be found. All had to agree that this lifeless body was not, indeed, Maka Albarn.

But then, that left the tantalizing question; where is she?

A storm is brewing... what will come of it?
I decided to continue this when I got a review telling me to. I followed your orders dutifully, master. *salutes* And besides, it's an interesting story, no?... just me?