Here's the next chapter, but first I have a message to repeat!

This story is one I was betaing for blankdude. He wrote out chapters 1-4 himself and came up with this story, so I do not own it! However, he told me he would stop writing it and I requested permission to finish it for him. I was granted that permission and I am therefore reposting 1-4 and then finishing it. He will still be creating every single chapter in a nutshell for me to write. If you distrust me, message him yourself. This message will continue repeating through the chapters 1-4 and there will be a disclaimer on the rest!

I do not own Soul Eater and I do not own the ideas for this story. I do have the necessary permissions to be reposting this.

Please read and review!

Bite Size

Chapter 2: All the Small Things

"...So, yeah, that about covers it, I suppose." Blair had just finished her explanation for why Maka was now sitting in Soul's palm and the two were not amused.

"Right now I'm not really worried about how this happened," Maka began, "I'm actually worried about one thing; can you fix me?"

Blair started fiddling with her hands, even Soul could tell she was nervous about explaining the "fixing" part.

"Yes, I can turn you back, however," Blair swallowed, hard, "there is a little problem," Soul snickered lightly at the unintentional joke, which Maka replied to by kicking his thumb.

"Anyway," Blair continued, playing with a small strand of her purple hair as she ignored the scythe's cries of pain, "-as I had said before, there is a way to turn you back to your normal size, but I'm afraid it's more complex than a simple 'I'll wave my hand and, poof, you're back.' It's actually a potion that'll take a few days to complete."

Maka raised an eyebrow, barely noticeable on her now minuscule body, "How long?" she asked

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps a day..." Blair paused, unsure how to put what she wanted to say in words.

Watching her, Soul could tell that neither him nor the shrunken meister in his hand would like what Blair would finally say

"...or two weeks..." Blair finally murmured quietly, much to Maka's dismay.

Maka held back the urge to jump the cat-girl, "TWO WEEKS! Please tell me you're joking, right?"

Blair could only shrug and look at the meister apologetically. "Sorry, just try and get comfortable until then."

"It'd be for the best if we informed Lord Death." Maka muttered, still hung on the idea of being smaller than a pencil for two weeks.

Soul nodded and carried her to their shared bathroom.

"This is probably a stupid question, but do you want to dial or should I?"

Maka looked up and glared. Even though she'd been shrunk, Soul could still tell that her eyes, with fury matching that of Medusa, read 'What do you think?'

He sighed, and fogged the mirror to write up those magic numbers, 42-42-564, 'Whenever you want to knock on Death's door.' Soul thought.

Standing at the mirror waiting for Death to answer, Soul had another thought

'Could this night possibly get any worse?' Soul asked himself inwardly.

He immediately regretted thinking that when Lord Death wasn't the one to answer the mirror. Instead, he faced a tall man with a mop of hair colored red as Soul's eyes who wore a suit that, as much as he hated to admit it, he thought looked very cool.

"Lord Death isn't here right now." Spirit sighed, obviously not in the mood to deal with someone calling, "-but I'll take a message, if it's that important to you."

Soul quickly, and as carefully as he could, hid Maka behind his back.

'Itakeitback!Itakeitback!Ifreakingtakeitback!' he screamed on the inside.

"Never mind, Spirit, it's something we can only talk with Lord Death about."

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Spirit asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You're supposed to call me Dea-"

Suddenly, Spirit caught himself, took a minute to think, and then brought up something that made Soul's eyes take up nearly one-third of his face.

"What did you mean by 'we?'"

"What do you mean?" Soul tried to play it cool, but even Maka could tell he was on edge.

" When you said only Lord Death can know, you said 'we', as in more than just you and Lord Death, who's we?"

Soul answered by staying silent and ending the call, hoping that the Death Scythe would forget about what had just happened.

"We can tell him tomorrow." Soul stuttered, trying to forget that extremely uncool moment that'd just happened, "let's just go to bed for now and deal with this in the morning, we still have Sunday to think of something."

Maka nodded "There's a problem, though, what am I going to use as a bed?"

Soul thought for a minute, and suddenly set Maka down on his night stand.

"Stay there for a minute, I think I've got something."

Then Soul quickly left the room, Maka couldn't think of anything to do, so she sat down 'Where exactly did he think I'd go?' she thought, kicking her feet over the massive cliff that was the nightstand. 'Good Death! Things certainly have gotten big, haven't they?'

She hadn't really had much time to think about her predicament, but now that she was, she had to admit, it actually sounded a little cool.

He returned a few minutes later, carrying a small cardboard box, a bag of cotton balls, and an old wash towel. He motioned for Maka to move to the side a little, to which she obliged, and sat down on his bed to work. After mere seconds he set his work down next to Maka. He'd filled the box with the cotton balls, wadded a few together to make lager ones for pillows, and lay the towel down like a blanket.

"It'll probably be a little itchy here and there, but I think it should work, at least for tonight."

Maka climbed inside and lie down, pulling the 'blanket' up too.

"Not bad," she admitted.

Soul smiled and yawned, his massive maw in full view to the meister.

"It'd probably be best if we both turned in for the night."

He threw his pants off, curled up in his own bed, said goodnight to his meister, and turned the lamp off.