Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater.

Prompt #27: Recital - Now she understood why he hated playing for an audience.

Words: 1,313

"I can't believe you talked me into this."

Wes glanced over at his little brother. Soul was tugging at his collar with the most uncomfortable look on his scowling face. "It's only one duet, Soul. Surely you can make it that long."

"Whoever chose this piece was an idiot. It's stuffy and stupid and way too slow."

"If you must know, Father chose it. Said it showcased both our talents."

"You mean it showcases my talent to showcase your talent. If he didn't want me to play, he should have said so."

"He does want you to play. So does Mother. It's an honor for the Evans name."

"I'm not an Evans anymore."

"In the eyes of everyone here, you are." Wes could see that appealing to family pride was getting him nowhere, so he switched gears. "Look, just play the piece with me, then you can get out of here. I won't stop you."

Ruby eyes cut over to him. "You promise?" Soul repeated.

Wes nodded. "I won't stop you."

I hope he's surprised to see me, Maka thought as she handed her invitation to the white-gloved butler at the door. It was awful nice of Mr. Blood to give me some time off.

Picking at the skirt of her new dress, Maka scanned the elegantly dressed crowd in search of the face she had traveled so far to see. The showcase invitation had almost been thrown away in last week's trash, but she'd spotted the creamy white card and saved it. When she'd seen Soul's name - his real name, Soul Evans - written as one of the main performers, she couldn't pass up the opportunity to finally hear her roommate playing something that wasn't his usual eclectic jazz fare.

A soft chime drew everyone's attention to a lady standing on the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, the showcase is to start in five minutes. Would you please find your seats?"

She found a seat near the middle of the auditorium (some good had come out of listening to all of Soul's talk of acoustics) with a clear view of the stage. A lady in red sat beside her. She gave Maka a small smile. "Here to see the Evans boys?"

"How did you know?"

"They're the most handsome ones here. And if you don't mind my saying so, you don't seem to be too particularly interested in hearing classical music." The elderly woman offered her hand. "I am Marceline Evans, their mother."

"Maka Albarn." She shook Marceline's hand with an awestruck smile. This is Soul's mother...

"What a nice name." The house lights dimmed, drawing their attention back to the stage. The stage spotlight turned on to reveal the chair, harp, and music stand set up in the middle of the stage. A woman in a long evening gown strode on from stage left carrying a sheaf of papers. "That's my daughter-in-law, Helena. She plays the harp as well as any angel. Moves one's soul, it does."

Maka blinked at the high praise, but as soon as Helena began to play, she realized it wasn't empty. Her fingers practically danced over the strings to release a beautiful song. But for some reason, she couldn't really call it soul-moving. She still applauded when Helena finished, and sat up a little straighter when she saw the next person walk on stage.

A taller, leaner version of her roommate walked across the stage like a king about to take his throne. His silver hair was slicked back from his forehead to show bright blue eyes and a face that clearly showed off the Evans genes. Father or brother was Maka's best guess.

"That's my eldest boy, Wes," said Marceline proudly. She pointed to the other side of the stage. "Here comes his brother, Soul."

Maka glanced to the other Evans heading across the stage. Soul looked quite fine in his black suit and with his hair slicked back from his face, but there was a tightness in his smile that Maka didn't like. "He looks uncomfortable."

"It's just nerves. Soul hasn't performed for an audience in some time," Marceline said nonchalantly. "He'll be fine."

Wes pulled out a beautiful violin from its case as Soul took a seat at the grand piano. Watching him settle on the bench made Maka more certain that he wanted to be far, far away from here. His shoulders were too stiff, his posture too rigid, and he didn't crack his knuckles before placing his fingers on the ivory keys. She leaned forward in her seat and seriously considered calling out to him for a moment.

Then Wes began to play, and after a few seconds, Soul's piano joined in.

It was beautiful. Both Evans boys looked to be pouring their souls into the music. The violin and piano blended together perfectly, giving the duet a depth that moved more than one audience member to silent tears. But when she looked again, Maka was surprised to see every member of the audience watching the brothers as if anticipating a mistake.

It took everything Maka had not to jump up and demand that they stop. The look on Soul's face was so focused that it looked like he was in physical pain. His lips were pressed together hard enough to go completely white. Maka could see tension, concentration, and anxiety all over his face. He was holding himself back, and it was hurting him.

Not soon enough, the duet ended. Everyone rose and delivered a standing ovation as Wes and Soul bowed in unison. They had barely straightened before Soul beat a hasty retreat offstage.

Marceline's sigh drew Maka's attention. There was a strange look on the woman's face. It was like she was...disappointed.

"That was...lovely," said Maka. "Wasn't it?"

"It could have been better," sighed Marceline. "Soul was very flat. It didn't give Wes the oomph he needed to really shine."

Maka clenched her jaw hard enough to grind her teeth. Before that very moment, she never understood why Soul refused to perform in front of people. She couldn't fathom why someone of his talent and skill and, well, coolness, wouldn't want to show them off.

Now she did, and it made perfect sense.

"Would you please excuse me?" she said stiffly. Without waiting for Marceline's reply, she stood up and headed in the direction she'd seen Soul disappear.

Soul didn't even bother changing out of his suit. His stomach still wouldn't settle. It wouldn't until he was far, far away from this stuffy place and these cold, judging people. He had to get out of there. He had to get home.

"Soul."

He yanked his leather jacket on hard enough to make the material creak. "You said you wouldn't stop me, Wes."

"I'm not. I'm just saying goodbye." His brother's voice warmed as he added, "And for what it's worth, thank you for coming. I've missed you." Wes's hand rested on the back of his neck. "Better split before Mother and Father come back."

"Don't gotta tell me twice."

The click of high heels drew both brothers' attentions to the doorway. But instead of their mother, Soul was shocked to see the absolute last person he expected.

"Hey Soul." Maka smiled at him, open and guileless and oh so warm. "Ready to go home?"

Soul nodded, gave his brother one last smirk, and went to take his roommate's hand. As soon as their fingers laced together, his stomach settled. "Yeah," he said, "I'm ready to go home."

This is another fic set in the RST universe. I think it turned out rather well, personally.

Review please!