Because the second she got back from her core classes today, Soul calls out to her somewhere in the kitchen, "Maka for spring break I have to go hang out with my family and you automatically know just how much I absolutely love hanging out with them," sarcasm drips off his voice, "So would you like to come with me for shits and giggles?" Maka contemplates this for a moment, she's been far too uptight with her classes this could be her chance to unwind a little where ever his family may live. Thus, she hums in a slow agreement making her way next to him in the kitchen as she questions where they will be heading.

Maka could almost not process his response of, "Flying to Italy." It was classic of Soul to casually say something like that, which as usual always earns him a slow turn of the head and a, "You're shitting me right?" look. Her gaze is locked on Soul as she questions if that statement is a joke and he defends,

"I'm not joking jeesh I'm inviting you to come to Italy, because that's where my family is."

"I thought your family was in New York?" Maka questions, having to lean back on the nearest counter and recall everything she knew about her partner to her head.

"Nope, I uh... I bullshitted most of my identity for years."

All that acquired information she now has swishing around in the top of her head is promptly thrown out the nearest window at that statement. Maka exclaims, "Quid!?" and she drops down the random kitchen utensil she was unconsciously fiddling with.

"Do you know how many people my antisocial ass would have to deal with if anyone knew that I was an Evans?"

He smacks his hand over his mouth as soon his next big secret is also spilled onto the counter top before them.

Maka was terrible with music yes, but even her dipshit ass knew who the Evans Family was. They were international sensations with every member of the family in almost every genre of music in existence. Thing is, they never had specified names, they were all uniquely iconic but each were recognized only as Evans. They were spread across the world and she loved the two Evans who were in the Japanese culture of music. They were big in her homeland. One was in a Korean rock band, the other was an instrumentalist who played flawless pieces on the piano and was more remote to Japan.

She stares hard at Soul before it clicks, and she gasps.

She was up on her feet in a heartbeat, dragging Soul to her room before dropping down to the floor and pulling out a tub container from underneath her bed. A hidden collection gets dumped and all of a sudden posters of all sizes with kana and kanji (Japanese writing) were flying across her bedroom floor. On them can be seen a grand black piano surrounded by red curtains with a checkered floor underneath. Mini plushies and stupid trinkets lay in the mess as well. She juts a finger out at the glorious mess, looks him directly in his eyes and blurts out,

"Is this you? Are you this Evans?"

"H...How did you manage to get these..." He stutters, ignoring her question because she's known him well enough to not need a verbal answer, she could read him like a textbook. Meanwhile Maka takes a deep breath, and speaks quietly:

"Watashi wa amarini mo himistu o motte iru. Choodo anata ga sukidesu."

—I have a secret too. I'm just like you.

He wasn't completely fluent, she watched him take a moment to unscramble what she said in his mind before eyes widen. She could tell just by the fact that he understood in the slightest what she said meant that he was the Japanese culture one, he was her favorite Evans.

"My best friend and weapon who I have known since middle school. The same guy I trained to be a death scythe for years... Has been my favorite music artist since I was five years old. Why all of a sudden tell, no accidentally slip this out casually?!"

She knew his music... Since he started playing? He was her favorite... All her life? Soul stared dumbfounded at her. He then began to notice her Asian roots, the hard knowledge mindset, her name, the way she murmured something quietly right before she ate a meal, it hit him like Blackstar's nut-punch.

"Since when were you Japanese?!" He questions, ears getting red.

"I've always been Japanese!" Maka shot back.

They both simultaneously smack their own foreheads. They were both being idiotic with this, and to settle calmly, they both promise to explain everything needed to be known about each other's lives—on the plane ride to Italy. After all, Maka wouldn't miss an offered free vacation to an amazing place, and she certainly wouldn't miss the opportunity to get closer to this new side of Soul.

Soul yet again failing to mention when he meant fly, he meant private jet. A private, muthafuckin', jet. Maka's jaw dropping as he led her to a reserved spot in the airport, a personal probably family black jet rolling up to them. Soul tried his best not to blush too bad from the embarrassment. She packed only a few dresses and fancy elegant tops, but looks like as soon as she got there she would need to go shopping for higher class clothes. He wore a collared red button-up, a loose tie, then converse and sweats, but she could tell how easily he could switch into professional attire from that.

The stairs dropped down and Soul gestured for her to climb aboard first. Did this thing seriously have a butler waiting at the top of the stairs? The dressed up guy at the top held out his hand for her to hold onto as she took the final step into the plane. He respectfully bowed to her greeting, "Salve Ms. Evans." The looks she shot Soul did nothing but make him adorably embarrassed; rosy blush, averted eyes, quiet chuckling, and scratching the back of his neck.

He wasn't sure if she was staring at him like that because of what the butler called her, or the fact that she just touched a very expensive crystal cabinet for wine glasses and then squealed like a guilty five year old.

Either way, it still embarrassed the absolute shit out of him.

He set his iPod and et cetera down onto a table, and offered his hand to her. She looked at him weirdly before mentally figuring, 'He was raised with manners, but only must show them within the Evans estate.' So with a light blush she rests her hand lightly on his just like the butlers before he led her to her seat. He took the one right next to her and began their talk about their lives.

The higher the altitude, the more interesting things got.

Maka was Japanese like Tsubaki turns out, which was why she was always so close to the girl. Soul knew four different languages—Latin, English, Italian, and Japanese—all but her language he knew fluently. After hearing that Maka managed to persuade Soul for a trade-off, she would help him learn Japanese and he would help her learn Latin. An effective trade off that began right then, and for the rest of the jet ride.

Somewhere along the way of this, Maka became tired and fell asleep; dozing off on his shoulder when the conversation minimized.

When she woke back up she was being carried.

She could smell Soul's cologne, instantly knowing who was carrying her in their arms. She had a dress on the whole ride, but when her eyes opened ever so slightly, she could see a neatly done tie and a freshly pressed suit. Too lazy to want to walk, she was absolutely and perfectly content with Soul carrying her; therefore she acted still sound asleep. Soul perception flickered on in her mind, and she could sense a ring of souls surrounding her and her weapon, which must be bodyguards. She listened to Soul speak Italian to several people, never stopping his steady pace. It was only when she suddenly heard a feminine voice greet him warmly could she pick up on a Latin conversation.

"Salve Soul."

"Quid nomen est, eh..." Maka only assumed she was gestured to as this woman asked of her name.

"Pulchra mea, Maka."

She could have sworn the women giggled, before they switched to a dialect that Maka couldn't understand. It wasn't long before Soul started to move again. She could hear his shoes clicking against tiles softly. A door cracked open then kicked lightly with a foot before her back gently felt the pressure of memory foam—a bed. He sighs tiredly and murmurs, "Ahhh, haven't been here in a while."

It was then that she decided to "awaken" and it couldn't have been a better timing.

He stands a tie loosened around his neck, belt buckle undone, and shirt unbuttoned to reveal an extremely lovely chest and stomach. He didn't have a headband or anything in his hair to hold it back, therefore making it fall loosely to shade his eyes. The sights making her want to sell her soul to Eros just for a night with that body. He looks her way and she quickly pulls a yawn and a sleepy stretch. She tried to murmur, "Good morning." as sleepily as she could. The hunk before her bought the act and echoed it back to her before she questions,

"So what exactly happened while I took an accidental nap?"

"Got off plane, talked to matron(mother) only to learn guest rooms have been taken up, so I apologize for the inconvenience but you're going to have to share yours truly's room."

Soul replies as he bows dramatically while gesturing to the room they're currently in, earning a giggle from her as she sat up. He gestures to her suitcase set neatly in a far corner of the room. She pulls out sweatpants decorated by rabbits and bunnies on them with a big baggy shirt; setting herself up for bed in the bathroom. Soul took one look at her and bit back a laugh, a smile escaping his defense for her to catch, "What?" She questions. "You're pj's; bunnies are new." He responds but surprisingly afterwards a third voice chimes in. The same voice as earlier informing,

"They are very cute indeed."

Teenage heads turn to meet the head of household, Soul's mother. His eyes coming from her side of the family as her crimsons glisten amused. She was holding a bag within her hand, which was given to Maka a moment later as the matron speaks,

"I know your culture is different from ours, so I would like to give some clothing as a welcome gift. I am not saying you have to, but you would blend in here a bit better if you wore such."

Maka was all too happy and kind to deny much to Soul's relief. His blonde smiling and agreeing contently with the woman who basically shot her a command to wear what was given, just in the form of kind words. If Maka rejected his mother was completely prepared to bring out her bitchy side. He forgot how his mother was, almost completely forgetting the fact why he rarely visited his said family. They were control freaks bottom line, and had all too high expectations.

However something told him Maka would be loved by his family.

Especially as she gingerly pulled items out of the bag absolutely dazzled with the silk night gowns and Italian themed dresses. His mother taken by surprise, sporting a genuine light smile before saying goodnight.

He would have gotten her silk night gowns a long time ago as a Christmas present if he knew how good they looked on her. The smooth fabric fell to the contours of her body, and as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom he had to hold himself back from staring. She wasn't wearing a bra with this and it was clearly visible—much to his perverted delight. The creamy long legs he adored were fully revealed, and as they settled under the covers together he had the strongest urge ever to caress them.

Maka was flipping out mentally. Soul wore just a pair of sweat pants, which normally he would always wear a shirt for the sake of her guilt not seeing the scar. Honestly, she had swallowed that down a long time, ages ago, but so used to him not being shirtless she was praying he wouldn't see her blush before the lights went out. She also tried the best she could to not question why the sudden change, but that failed miserably; half sounding calm and curious the other squeaking out why he didn't have a shirt on.

"My family, particularly mother, have a really bad habit of being control freaks. What you were given five minutes ago was what you were gonna wear whether you liked it or not. Ma requires that the household wear silk gowns if female, or for dudes it's just pants. I know you don't like seeing the scar, but I can't do much to hide it. My mother can get nasty if not given her ways." In addition to this explanation he also apologizes and she just shrugs it off, being honest and letting him finally know that she was comfortable with the scar.

Even though he had a massive room with a massive bed, they were dead center of it and pretty close. Both fully prepared to use the excuse that they were cold if either asked, and in all truth the room was indeed an icebox; with the lack of clothing both had it was only worse. Not to mention they were too awkward and shy to ask for cuddling, and no way in Shibusen would they just casually snuggle up to their partner. However Maka was beginning to have not that much of a choice.

He honestly had a very comfy and nice bed however she liked firm mattresses and pillows that didn't sink with the weight of her head.

Her body was really comfy, it just wasn't sleepy comfy. She at least needed a firmer pillow; much to her disappointment there was nothing within the vicinity of her hand to suffice. Even knowing this she did make an uncivilized attempt, flinging her hand around with the gracefulness of Blackstar to find something she could rest her head against. Her hand hit the night table, comforter, comforter again, a pillow, sheets, something firm yet had a smooth texture, another pillow—

Her hand flies back over to the firm object and Soul suddenly speaks up, "Maka why are you groping my left moob?" Maka's hand flies off and she squeaks out an apology explaining,

"I'm sorry I was feeling around for something firm to substitute for a pillow. I can't sleep with squishy pillows; I'm not used to it."

"And I'm assuming since your hand felt up my chest twice I was being considered?" He grumbles; she felt bad about disturbing him because he sounded on the verge of sleep. Thus she just nods in reply not wanting to wake him further with her voice. Even though she didn't know why she did that because the room was pitch black, but he must be able to understand hair rubbing up against pillow language because he then continues,

"You're more than welcome to use my chest as pillow if that'll help you fall asleep Pulchra."

She thanked Shingami mentally that the lights were out and he couldn't see her cheeks matching his eyes as her body gets close to his, pressing against him as he turns to lay on his back, arm lifting up to let her rest her head on his chest. Her ear resting right over his steady heartbeat she smiled, this feeling was so comforting—the feeling of being close to Soul. Her body felt awkward though and she tried to shift around quietly as possible to get comfortable. Maybe she was just restless for whatever reason but Soul could sense her distress.

A moment later an arm wrapped around her form, to rest on her back and press her closer to Soul. This brought her entire body to press up against his side. Another hand ran along her leg and tugged gently at the underside of her knee, pulling her leg up and onto his lap. The hand on her back began to rhythmically rub in a soothing manner, Soul murmuring in a husky sleepy voice, "Bene?" It had taken her a moment to let it sink in but she began to fall asleep right then, nodding slowly at the sweet ministrations. Soul always knew what would make her feel better, or fall asleep; something that always had drawn her to him.

The next morning said visiting matron last night snuck in with a camera after seeing the cute little sight, originally intending to call for breakfast but now sneaking pictures. It was Soul's price he had to pay if he was going to sleep in late. An identical copy of Soul, just taller spotted the said sneaky photographer, due to the bedroom door left wide open, and dragged the one woman paparazzi out while calling to Soul. Maka was half awake; completely numb to her surrounding with the exception of warm lump she's being held by. She was enjoying the cuddle, but it only took a moment for her mind to translate the Latin from another male that was just in the room to,

"Brother in the future do not allow mother wake you up, except if you really do want her to take images of you holding your girl intimately."

That got both of them to tense, and Soul's eyes snapped open and questioned,

"Quid?"

He sits up slightly, leaning on an elbow in an attempt to look but not wake, "sleeping" Maka. His other arm still wrapped protectively around her side. Soul gave thanks to the male within the room, as he holds his mother's camera in his hands; the door making a clicking sound as it closed. It served as Maka's cue to sit up with a blush. "Sorry about that..." Soul apologized, rubbing his neck embarrassed and she replies with,

"Nah its fine, you offered and I accepted without thinking too much about it."

Maka promised herself she would set an alarm so he wouldn't have to run into a mess with his mother again.

They both made their way down the hallway to the dining room after they freshened up, still in night clothes. It wasn't as cold in the main parts of the house, Maka being thankful that she wouldn't have to openly cuddle Soul. She was also thankful for the fact that they weren't in bed anymore, and she could clearly see not only the scar on Soul's chest, but also all of his roman god physique. He was handsome and she swore unearthly when they passed by sunlit windows that casted shadows and made his muscles glisten perfectly. She also wasn't the only one that noticed. As soon and both entered the dining room, heads turned. All of the other males in the room had on similar attire to Soul, all in fantastic shape.

The matron gasps, exclaiming in English,

"My goodness Soul how on earth did you get that scar!?"

He forgot about that, with a glance downward he chuckles and replies, "It was either a slash to the chest or her in a coffin," He gestures to Maka with his head and continues, "I have a special type of blood now which allows me to survive a lot harsher circumstances then most, I was fine Ma." Maka made a mental connection to the attack giving him Black Blood. She nods in agreement. The same male voice from earlier speaks up in English as well,

"I see you're not flimsy and a skinny stick now either too, little bro."

Maka glances off to Soul and the to the males around the room, it all of a sudden hitting her that Soul looked the strongest out of all the males present. They were fit and thin, lightly toned but Soul looked to be the only one extremely well-muscled. He still maintained a lithe body likewise within the room, probably a family trait, even with the more muscle mass.

Soul in truth was always the runt of the family—never meeting the same standards as the others with music skills, or even in fact the same body. He was always different from them, smaller and thin, always weaker. However as he stands next to his meister, he's the complete opposite. He had nothing more than a smirk as his entire family stared completely surprised, being astounded by how he's turned out and he was just getting started.

They were by far underestimating him, and the small innocent looking, pigtailed beauty beside him.

He and Maka were under a silent agreement that wasn't spoken of but understood as they seated. Maka was going to play dumb, not letting any of them know she understood Latin. She had the option to mention that she spoke Japanese, but she didn't feel like it was necessary. They were all speaking English for the guests seated at the table, easily distinguished girlfriends and a guy friend or two. The family, mostly consisting of guys, had white hair, and either red or blue eyes, anybody else easily stood out as delicious foods were passed around.

The only time Latin was spoken was if the mother or father asked questions regarding the guests. Quiet conversation spewed here and there along the grand table, around twenty people seated altogether. A question in Latin was shot out from the man sitting at the end of the table, everyone quieting to hear the head's voice, Maka paying extra attention after, "Blonde hair and green eyes," translated in her head. His father was asking about her. Soul shot back,

"Quaerere eam, tui."

—Ask her yourself.

He glanced over to Maka a knowing look plastered to both of their faces before going back to eating. His father eventually mustering up,

"So, Soul, care to introduce the young lady accompanying you?"

"Everyone Maka. Maka everyone." He went back to eating, Maka rolls her eyes and his father sighs, "Still as blunt as ever my son.."

Maka stifles a giggle and is about to take a bite of her food, only to hear a gasp and some say 'what' in Japanese,

"Nani? Maka-chan!? Soul?!"