Figured I'd post this here as well. I've been getting an error trying to access some of the chapters I upload. Check AO3 if they won't load here.

Soul had had better days. His head hurt. His brain was a mess. The blurry landscapes passing by outside were probably beautiful, but he had no mind to appreciate them. Trains sucked. They were loud, and dirty, and crowded. Not to mention slow. They would have already arrived by now if they had taken the plane like he'd wanted to. Plus, he could have slept on the way there. Trying to sleep on a train was like having nails for breakfast.

There was a full-on tantrum building up inside of him. A childish outburst of never before seen proportions. He really needed to vent. But complaining wasn't cool. At least, complaining any more than he already had would definitely not be cool. Maka was a patient woman. He knew that better than anyone. She'd put up with so much of his stupidity over the years. People often pitied Tsubaki for being stuck with Black Star's antics, but Soul was well aware he could be just as bad. He really did not want to push her any further.

Sadly, being aware of a problem didn't always mean you had a solution to it. And if this godforsaken woodkishin didn't stop shaking very soon, he was actually going to lose it. The train went across some kind of bump in the rails. Or maybe it had had to brake. He didn't know and he didn't care. The result was the same: The wagon shook. His tray flipped. His cup flew and spilled its contents all over his pants, shirt, and jacket. And that was it. The final straw. He couldn't do it. The urge was too powerful. His good resolutions never stood a chance.

"Why the FUCK are we taking this ancient train again? Couldn't we have at least gone with one of those modern, high speed ones?"

In place of a reply, the sound of a book snapping shut could be heard. Maka didn't look at him. She didn't speak. She just sat there in complete silence for a few moments. When she did finally speak, her voice was perfectly calm. Normally, she responded to his complaints with that understanding tone a mother might use to comfort her toddler. It was condescending, but kind. There was no kindness now.

"Kindly remind me, Soul. Why is it that we are traveling by train?"

The smile on her face radiated murderous intent. He already regretted that stupid comment.

"Because we're broke, and that stingy academy doesn't cover travel expenses."

Brokeish. They had savings. He was not about to spend any more than necessary on a work trip, however.

"That's right. And, pray tell, why exactly didn't the clients cover those expenses, like they normally would?"

"Because... we didn't want to take their money."

She turned to face him. There was no visible change in her expression, but her intonation was lethal. Slow. Cheery. Exaggerated.

"Oh, we did that, did we?"

Crap.

"Me- I- I did that. I didn't wanna take their money..."

Only now did she let her rage seep into her voice.

"You're goddamn right you did. So how about you stop complaining for five minutes?! Do you think you could handle that?"

Maka didn't cuss. This was not good. More anger spilled forth.

"Or do you think I want to be here? That I enjoy the beautiful sounds of crying children and the gentle massage of this leaden seat?"

She was getting worked up.

"Has the thought occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, I would have also preferred to travel first class on a private jet courtesy of the limitless Evans fortune?"

He needed to pick his words very carefully.

"Well... no..."

"No, of course it didn't."

She gave him an angry glare. Afterwards, Maka took some deep breaths and opened her book again. The danger had passed. He had survived. For now. Definitely no more complaining, though. The next time he would get chopped. And thus, Soul found himself back at square one. Aggressively bored, throbbing pain in his skull, and thoroughly dreading the following days. Except, to top it all off, his clothes were now wet and sticky. Just great. The universe really did have it in for him recently. What were the chances that his own family would hand in a request to the DWMA? He suspected the entire thing might be fake. Just a ruse meant to force him to come home. But it's not like he and Maka were the only capable pair around. The job could've gone to anyone.

Come to think of it, how had he ended up with this stupid job? Their target wasn't even that dangerous. You didn't need a death scythe to take out some random would-be-kishin. Kid should more or less have known that he wouldn't be too keen on reuniting with his family. They'd never explicitly talked about it, but the reaper had known him for a long time, and he was far from stupid.

Soul sighed. These thoughts didn't lead anywhere. Even if there was some grand conspiracy at play here, he couldn't do anything about it now. To begin with, he had nobody to blame but himself. When she'd come to him with the job, he should've just said no. Simple as that. One word. One word and he would be at home now, watching TV or something. But of course he hadn't been able to do that. To anyone else, but not to her. In his defense, he had tried to talk her out of it.

'This is a bad idea, Maka.' 'My family sucks, Maka.' 'Let's just take another request, Maka.'

In truth, he'd known those halfhearted attempts were never going to stop her. Maka had always been interested in his past and, as much as Soul hated talking about it, he very much did enjoy how much of her attention it garnered him. So, when she put on those big, sad eyes and pleaded with him, there really was no way for him to disagree. At the very least, he had been able to negotiate some compromises. They didn't stay with his parents, for one. In fact, the only meeting with their clients they had scheduled was with Wes. Soul's relation to his brother was a little complicated, but he far preferred him to his parents.

Of course, he fully expected Maka to try and talk him into some kind of family dinner at some point. Gut-wrenching as that sounded, he wasn't sure he'd be able to deny her even that. This train trip had been another such agreement. His parents had insisted they take the private jet, obviously. But Soul despised the idea of being indebted to them in any capacity. Let them keep their money. He didn't need their handouts.

At that time, Soul had had no idea of the horror that was public transportation. Well, he'd flown before. That's how him and Maka usually got to distant jobs. It wasn't pleasant, but he typically managed to fall asleep at some point, so it had never bothered him that much. This, on the other hand, did bother him quite a bit. Soul was a stubborn guy. He didn't regret declining their money. Not yet. It would take more. That being said, every kick from that demonic child in the seat behind his own pushed him ever so much closer to that point.

The weapon could practically feel another comment try and force its way out of his mouth. He needed to do something now, or he wouldn't live to see their destination. Going for a walk seemed like a good idea. His legs were about to fall asleep, anyway, and his back needed a break. That just left one issue: Getting out. In what he now considered to have been a fatal error, Soul had insisted on the window seat, mostly because it felt a little more private than sitting next to the aisle. What he had failed to consider at the time was that he might want to get up later. And that he might have already annoyed his meister to the breaking point by then. For a second, he considered dropping the whole thing. Just then, he received another gentle kick to the back and remembered why he had to do this. He put on his nicest smile and most apologetic voice, before tapping Maka on the shoulder.

"Very sorry to disturb. I gotta go to the bathroom. Could you let me out?"

She slowly turned her head to him. Her demeanor was the same as earlier: Haunting smile, closed eyes, cheery voice.

"Of course, Soul. It's no problem at all."

Clearly, she was still annoyed. But his request was reasonable, and Maka was a reasonable person. Or, that's what he told himself as he shuffled past her into the aisle. He'd made it out. So far so good. Although it begged the question: Now what? Unsure of how many wagons there were or what trains even had to offer, Soul simply picked a direction and started walking. Well, walking wasn't quite the right word. Climbing and squeezing more like. The aisle was just about as crowded as the seats. Between standing passengers and random pieces of baggage, it was rather difficult to make progress. Still, it beat sitting for yet another hour.

There was little variety between the different wagons. He had been hoping there might be one with a restaurant or something, but luck was not on his side. His only real destination, at this point, was the end of the train. He figured he would have to get there sooner or later. In some western movies he'd seen, trains had had those little balconies at the back. He was almost sure those weren't real, but it's not like he had anything better to do. Some fresh air would go a long way right now.

After getting exceedingly intimate with half the people on board, Soul reached the final wagon at last. Predictably, there was no exterior platform for him to take a breather on. On the bright side, this department was notably emptier than the others. Since his dreams of getting outside had vanished, the weapon settled for the next best thing: A pair of empty seats next to a small, partially open window. The fresh air really did help his mental state. He unclenched his teeth. Relaxed the shoulders he didn't realize had been tightened. Even his headache subsided somewhat.

Finally feeling like he could think clearly again, Soul took account of his situation. Meeting his family would suck, yes, but he wasn't alone. He had Maka with him. As cheesy as it sounded, he really did feel like he could get through anything with her by his side. Besides, he actually enjoyed these long distance missions with his meister quite a bit. Them sharing a bed in a cheap motel, her falling asleep on his shoulder on the plane. It was almost like they were a couple. Death, he felt like a loser even thinking that. He would have to take that particular truth to the grave with him. Still, the fact of the matter remained: Things weren't that bad. It was gonna be okay. He repeated it to himself a few more times, before resigning himself to the long walk home. His trip to the 'bathroom' had gone on long enough already.

The weapon returned to find his partner wearing a content expression that looked somewhat more genuine. Apparently, Maka had used this time to calm down a bit, herself. Before he could even tap her shoulder, she stood up to let him pass.

"Get lost on the way?"

Soul had never been so happy to be teased by his partner.

"Something like that. Did you know those train-balconies from the movies aren't actually real?"

"Train-balconies...?"

She stared at him dumbfounded for a moment, then she chuckled and answered.

"Yes, actually, I had figured as much."

"Trains really are one big disappointment."

"Oh, cheer up. We're almost there."

While the thought of being able to leave this torture chamber on rails excited him, the idea of arriving in Minneapolis definitely did not. He felt nervous. Maka must have picked up on this before he even realized it himself. Couldn't keep shit from her.

"How are you feeling?"

"Been better. But I'll be fine."

She gave him a sympathetic smile.

"We don't have anything more scheduled after we arrive, you know. We could just check into the hotel and watch TV until we fall asleep."

"Shouldn't we, like, scout out the area or something?"

He knew for a fact that's what they were supposed to do.

"It can wait until tomorrow."

Goody-two-shoes Maka was willing to break protocol for him. He really did have the best partner ever.

"That's the greatest thing you've ever said to me."

He crossed his hands behind his head as he leaned back into the seat. Suddenly, it wasn't all that uncomfortable. The remaining train ride passed quickly. Soul and Maka didn't talk much, but the silence no longer felt oppressive like it had before. He even managed to doze off for a few minutes, just before the train stopped. A gentle poke to the forehead tore him from his slumber.

"Wake up, sleepyhead. We're here."

He opened his eyes to find Maka's face entirely too close to his own. Thankfully, the sleepiness helped mask his embarrassment.

"Right..."

They grabbed their bags and joined the long procession towards the closest exit. Then again, processions were supposed to move. They spent so long standing in line, Soul half-worried the train might start moving again before they could get off.

Nonetheless, they eventually emerged on platform twelve of the central Minneapolis train station. Hand in hand, to avoid getting separated, obviously. The weapon had never set foot there in his life. It felt dreadfully familiar all the same. The air, the weather, the feeling. It all reminded him of his parents. Of those days before he'd become a weapon. When he was just the youngest kid of the Evans family. A spoiled brat. A musical failure. The lesser son. Once again, his thoughts threatened to spiral. Once again, his partner was there to save him. A squeeze of the hand was all it took. Soul looked up at her in surprise. She showed him that same sympathetic smile.

"I'm here with you."

"Yea. I know."

This whole thing was really messing up his distant, cool-guy persona. His partner asked about their next move.

"Any idea how we're supposed to get to that hotel we booked?"

The anxiety passed. He needed to get his act together.

"The Hilton, right? I can take us there."

Maka was scanning her bag for the confirmation documents.

"I don't think that's what it was called..."

His joke seemed to have gone over her head. Whatever. He'd actually looked it up beforehand.

"We should able to walk there from here. Come on."

Apparently unable to locate those papers either way, she didn't hesitate to follow him.

"I hope this one is better than the last."

Soul knew all too well what she meant.

"It's not like it could be much worse."

The hotels they frequented generally weren't great. After all, spending big on accommodation meant a smaller payout. And since neither of them cared much for luxury, they usually wound up in the cheapest places they could find. The only real requirement either of them cared about was that it had to be clean, but that had never been a problem. Not until their previous mission, anyway, which saw them share a bed not just with each other but with a sizable family of roaches to boot.

"Please don't jinx it. If I spot any creepy-crawlies again, I'm just going to sleep outside."

Her face visibly went through stages of grief as she relived the trauma. A change of topic was in order.

"So what's our target here, anyway?"

Soul wasn't just making conversation. As far as he was concerned, the kishin-hunting was a distant secondary priority on this particular trip, so he hadn't looked into it much.
"Some kind of kishin-egg. Supposedly, it has already killed several people in the area."

That description was uncharacteristically vague for Maka's meticulous standards.

"That's all you got?"

He was starting to think his meister hadn't put much thought into the official justification for their visit either.

"Honestly, they didn't give us much. I tried looking into it some more, but I couldn't find anything. I suppose we'll just have to ask your family."

Score one for the conspiracy theory.

"Isn't that convenient for them?"

"Calm down. It's just Wes, remember?"

"And thank Death for that."

While they were chatting away, a building on the corner of the street came into view. Several buildings all around them, really, but Soul immediately knew this one was their destination. He pointed to it and spoke.

"I think that's our place."

Maka's expression darkened considerably.

"Figures."

"Hey, you always say you don't care for luxury."

"I mean, I don't. It's just..."

"Yea, I get it."

They were near the center of the city. Unsurprisingly, most of the buildings in the area were new and large. Massive skyscrapers, glass facades. In this ocean of modern architecture, their hotel stood out for looking... decidedly less glamorous. Classic red bricks, which had taken on a brownish color. Some barred windows. The traditional 'Motel'-sign above the entrance. It didn't look awful, but the contrast to the surrounding cityscape did it no favors.

Soul nearly bumped his head passing through the narrow door frame of the entrance. This place didn't feel like it had been designed for someone his size. The tiny lobby barely featured enough room for the of them to stand side by side. The dark, wooden floor was covered by one of those ancient carpets you could find in the living room of grandparents everywhere. With no windows to speak of, all the light came from a single old lamp at the center of the ceiling. Seemingly a little uncomfortable within the dimly lit room, Maka wasted no time ringing the bell on the counter. Within seconds, an old lady appeared from a back room.

"How may I help you?"

"We reserved a room. The name is Albarn."

They usually went with Maka's last name, given the infamy of his own. The woman disappeared behind the wooden separation before resurfacing and handing them two keys.
"Right. Here you are. This one's for your room, this one the front door. You're in room twenty-four. On the third floor."

As far as check-ins went, it could have gone worse. They picked up their bags and ascended the wooden stairs, which spiraled upwards in uncomfortably narrow circles. The lobby's aesthetic extended throughout the entire place. Few windows, dark wood everywhere, thick carpets and scarce, yellow light. On the other hand, Soul had yet to spot any signs of uncleanliness, so he saw no real reason to complain. That had, of course, not stopped Maka from obsessively searching their entire room for any insects, first thing after entering. A solid fifteen minutes later, she fell to the bed, exhausted. The lack of screaming told him that her search had come up empty.

Meanwhile, Soul had conducted a little inspection of his own. Their room wasn't bad. The bathroom was clean. Even featured a bath tub. No shower cabin, but curtains would suffice. Plus, there was a TV mounted in front of their bed, which looked incredibly out of place within this murder-mystery-mansion aesthetic. As expected, the room featured just one bed. On their first long distance mission, they had booked two rooms, but that had felt silly almost immediately. The pair had shared an apartment for years, sleeping in the same bed for a few nights was no big deal.

Earlier, Maka had acted like she was taking the rest of the day off for his sake. Looking at her now, sprawled out on the bed, it was pretty obvious she wouldn't have the energy to get any more work done today, either. It had gotten late, anyway. When Soul checked the TV's clock, it read seven pm. The sensation of his stained shirt sticking to his chest pulled him out of his thoughts. Having grabbed a clean set of comfy clothes, he moved towards the bathroom as he spoke.

"I gotta take a shower. Takeout sound good?"

"Mhm."

Her voice sounded like she was about to pass out.

"What do you want?"

"...pizza. Pepperoni."

She was mumbling her responses from the other room. Ah, well. Soul had already known what she would order. He took out his phone, googled the closest place, and ordered their usual. When the food arrived, it wasn't great. But they hadn't eaten all day, so it mattered little. Stuffing themselves with the hot, greasy food felt amazing. By the time the pizza was gone, neither of them could move. They watched some TV and soon fell into a deep, carb-induced sleep.