This whole thing was all sorts of suspicious. Soul Evans didn't take people out to fancy dinners. Then again, she wasn't 'people'. Maybe this was how her weapon treated his lover. She flushed upon thinking the word. Was that what they were now? Lovers? Her train of thought was rapidly derailing. But who could blame her? Pressed tightly against her partner's back, holding on for dear life. Maka had ridden bikes with him many times. This position was perfectly normal. Yet, it felt completely different now. So much more intimate. She could swear she hadn't been able to smell, to feel him like this before.

Having quickly returned to the hotel for a change of clothes, they were now on the way to... wherever it was her partner intended to take her. Soul had remained conspicuously tight-lipped about their destination. They had been driving for quite a bit. Maka still had no idea where they were going. Curious as she was, it didn't overly much matter. She wasn't hungry, but she would eat if he stopped at a restaurant. She didn't much want to drink, but she would put up with that, too, if he decided to stop at a bar. She just felt good. Everything finally felt right, and she was determined to let nothing interfere with that. To her surprise, Soul didn't stop at a fancy restaurant, nor at a Jazz club, nor at a bar. Instead, he finally came to a stop at a crossroads somewhere in an unfamiliar part of town.

"It should be somewhere around here."

He was clearly looking for something, turning his head every which way. She was determined not to show it, but Maka's curiosity had grown more and more with each restaurant they'd passed. It was rare for her partner to take the initiative. To open up at all, really. Whatever place he had in mind had to be special to him. Seemingly having found what he was looking for, Soul pulled into a small alley that seemed just a little shady. Not a place Maka would want to be caught in alone at night. Not without her weapon, anyway. They slowly drove along the dimly lit street. Apparently, this part of the city didn't keep their street lights on all night. It was dark. So dark, she was surprised her partner still had any idea where he was going. That's assuming he even did. She really hoped he did.

Maka knew it was silly, but these dark, unfamiliar streets scared her. She was a powerful meister. She had her weapon with her, her death scythe. Yet, in that moment, she didn't feel like that person who had defeated the kishin on the moon, who had taken the souls of hundreds of opponents. She just felt like a girl. A girl that had finally gotten what she'd wanted for so long, and couldn't help being afraid to lose it. The meister reminded herself that the fear was stupid. Irrational. Even so, she tightened her grip on Soul just a little bit, hoping very much he wouldn't notice.

To Maka's relief, he soon turned another corner. This new alley was still small with no lamps in sight, but it had an entirely different atmosphere. There was light in the windows of the buildings. Most of them appeared to be shops of some kind. A few bars here and there. Her eyes got stuck on one particularly questionable establishment which featured the traditional red neon light and had very suggestive imagery in its windows. She didn't even want to imagine what went on in there.

Fortunately, the bike didn't come to a stop anywhere close. She still wondered just where exactly her weapon intended to take them. A few minutes later, Soul did finally stop. Around them, there were several buildings. Some of them featured neon lights of their own. Maka was just glad none of them were red. It was a little hard to tell, but some of them were probably open for business. Regardless, this entire area seemed ill-suited for any kind of romantic evening. But Soul got off the bike, and Maka really did want to see what their destination was, so she followed suit, commenting as left her seat.

"Nice neighborhood."

Soul snickered.

"It's seen better days. But it should still be here. Wes mentioned it."

"Wes?"

She could imagine a younger Soul frequenting this area. He'd always had that side to him. Rebellious. Just a little sketchy. But his brother? Not in a million years.

"Used to come here together. You'll see."

He parked the bike at the side of the road, looking a little concerned about leaving it there. Then he lead her into one of the buildings. It hadn't looked like much from the outside, but the structure was massive, opening up into some kind of giant hall. The large ceiling consisted of many glass panels, yet what little moonlight made its way inside was entirely drowned out by several blue spotlights that gave the entire room an alien feel. Maka had so many questions.

"What... is this place?"

"Was a shopping mall, once. Mostly abandoned now."

Maka took a closer look at their surroundings. Her partner was right. Countless store entrances lined the walls on both sides. From what she could make out, the stores themselves were in varying states of decay. Some of them looked like they might still be running, while others were in ruins. It was both creepy and peaceful, serene with a touch of sadness.

"Did you and Wes come here often?"

He shrugged.

"Kinda."

The only sons of the mighty Evans family casually hanging out at a rundown mall like this? She found it difficult to believe.

"Was this place... different back then?"

"Hmmm. Nah, not really. It always had this kinda vibe."

Maka's questions must have been written all over her face. She didn't even have to ask him to explain.

"Our parents didn't know about it, obviously. No way they'd let me come to a place like this, let alone their golden boy Wes."

"So you snuck out?"

"Basically, yea. Wasn't easy, either."

She waited for him to continue.

"We were supervised most of the time. Could only make it when we got lucky. One time, classes at school got canceled, so we came here instead. Barely made it back in time."

Hearing her partner open up like this was incredibly odd for Maka. He had never talked about his past with her, let alone with anyone else, as far as she was aware. Now he was freely sharing tales from his school days - and she didn't even have to pry them from him! But Maka was glad for it. It showed that something about their relationship had changed. Soul had become more comfortable around her. That thought filled her with a pleasant warmth, which quickly spread throughout her body. The meister got so distracted, she didn't even notice her weapon coming to a stop and bumped into him slightly.

"Here we are."

It seemed they had arrived. Though where exactly, she continued to be unsure of. They were standing in front of what appeared to be a store. It featured the same brightly colored display windows as many of the others. Red, yellow, blue. There were so many blinking colors in front of her, Maka could barely make out what she was looking at.

"Come on."

On her own, she would never have even considered entering a place like this. Nonetheless, she took the hand Soul had offered her and followed towards the entrance. He pushed the door and, much to her surprise, it really did open. Maka's ears were immediately assaulted by a cacophony of sounds. Pins falling, various announcers shouting over each other, and a large amount of what could only be described as exaggerated video game noises.

Visually, the scenery was just as grating. Bright, clashing colors everywhere. From purple to green to yellow. Things in here just seemed to be painted at random. Not to mention that half of them were flashing erratically. Fortunately, her eyes were already used to the blinking lights from outside. Otherwise, she might have fainted from the sheer amount of visual noise alone. After getting over the initial shock, Maka finally put together what kind of place she found herself in.

"This is an arcade!"

He grinned.

"Yea, no shit."

Unsurprisingly, she had never been to an arcade before. It was one of those mythical places that she'd only ever read or heard people talk about. Her first impression of the real thing was... intense. She made sure to stick close to her weapon. Said weapon walked straight over to what was presumably a counter. Behind it sat a man wearing sunglasses, that was thoroughly absorbed in a magazine. Normally, Maka would have laughed at the kind of person that wore sunglasses indoors, but they seemed entirely appropriate for this place.

The guy was mostly bald. Well-built. Muscular. She got the impression he could probably hold his own in a fight. Or, at least that he could have, once upon a time. The years had drawn deep lines across his forehead and cheeks. He must have been old, but the meister knew better than to hazard any guesses as to his age. He finally noticed them when Soul leaned against the counter, speaking in a bored voice without so much as looking up.

"Welcome. Welcome."

"Sup, gramps. Long time no see."

She could make out genuine excitement from their link. Whoever this person was, Soul was thrilled to see them. The old man abruptly put down his magazine to look at the pair. He appeared to be deep in thought for a second. One could practically see the gears turning in his head.

"Gramps? I know that voice..."

At last, something clicked for him.

"Is that little Soul...?"

"Actually, I've gotten pretty tall."

The man laughed heartily.

"I can see that. Still act like you own the place, though. Little shithead."

Soul laughed in return.

"Guilty as charged. I'm surprised this rundown place is still open to begin with. There's no way you turn a profit. Got some shady side business?"

"I run a respectable establishment, thank you very much. Disrespectful brat. Worry about your own problems."

On one hand, it was hard to call this exchange a happy reunion. On the other, her partner seemed more at ease trading insults with this sketchy-looking old man than he had talking to his brother. Maka got the impression that their heavy banter spoke to a deep, powerful bond. It kind of reminded her of how she and Soul, themselves, acted sometimes. Grandpa's gaze shifted towards Maka.

"So, who's this poor girl? Your latest victim?"

"Victim? What the fuck are you implying?"

Maka couldn't help but laugh. These two were great together. Soul's outraged defense proceeded.

"This is my WIFE, actually. And her name's Maka."

"Right. What? How does that happen? There's no way a douchebag like you deserves a girl like her."

Soul grumbled.

"We can agree on that much, at least."

It occurred to Maka that Soul had introduced her as his 'wife' more often than as his girlfriend. Well, it was starting to feel normal.

"You poor thing. You know you could do better, right? Is he threatening you?"

"Uh, no, of course he isn't threatening me. And I'm quite happy with my husband."

The meister gave an awkward laugh. She felt out of place speaking politely to these idiots, but being rude to strangers just wasn't in her nature.

"That's good. Be careful, though. I wouldn't put it past him."

Soul interjected.

"Can you stop shit talking me to my goddamn wife and just give us some fucking tickets to play?"

The old man continued as if Soul wasn't even there.

"He used to beat me, you know? Every time he lost. Anger issues."

Soul snickered again.

"Yea, I'm sure eleven year old me was a real menace to society. So sorry your grown ass had to deal with all that."

They both grinned, then the man handed him a box of plastic coins. Presumably, these were what you inserted into the machines to play.

"Go, have some fun."

Part of Maka felt bad taking handouts from a place that clearly didn't get a ton of customers.

"Um, shouldn't we pay for these?"

But the guy just waved his hand in the air.

"That boy was right, you know. This place isn't turning a profit either way. Better to have someone use the machines, at least."

The implications of that statement concerned her, but she resolved to not overthink it. Soul, for his part, had taken the coins without a second thought. He was already bee lining towards a particular game that he seemed keen on playing.

"You comin?"

Seeing the old man return to his magazine, Maka rushed over to her partner.

"You guys seem close."

Soul chuckled.

"That's what you gathered from all that? I guess we talked sometimes, back in the day."

She was going to ask more questions, when Soul passed her a small basketball.

"Give it a try."

Maka took the hint. She probably wasn't getting more out of him for now. Instead, she shifted her attention to the game. You might not think it looking at her, but she could be quite competitive at times. Beating Soul at his own game like this? Now that would be fun. She stepped up to the machine and familiarized herself with the setup. The game was straightforward. Land as many throws into the basket as possible in a set time frame. She wasn't great at regular basketball, but she still felt she could manifest an upset win. A determined smile on her face, she stepped up and began throwing balls.

To the surprise of absolutely nobody, Maka was not great at this particular game. Forget setting high scores, she was barely getting points whatsoever. To the surprise of at least one girl, Soul didn't fare much better. In one particularly hard-to-watch game, neither of them managed to score a single time. It was absurd. The high scores had several dozen hits in the same time frame and neither of them had even gotten one? By the end of it, they were both dying from laughter. Soul barely managed to talk.

"Damn, we're good at this."

"Right? We have real talent."

"Absolutely. You can't teach that."

A different game caught Maka's eye. Some kind of slot machine. She didn't approve of gambling, obviously. Rather, she figured that, as a meister, her fast reaction times ought to give her an advantage here. Soul followed her gaze and quickly put together what she was thinking.

"That one next?"

"Mhm."

He handed her the box of coins and followed her to the machine. As she inspected this new challenge, the meister felt her confidence rise.

"Never took you for much of a gambler."

That term reminded her of her father. It took some restraint to not get upset.

"Shut up and look. The wheels inside this thing turn at a steady pace. The order of the icons is consistent. If I focus, I should be able to get the result I want every time."
"Damn, so gambling was a skill-based game all along, huh?"

He wasn't taking her very seriously. Whatever. She'd show him.

"Just watch."

And with that, Maka got to work. She spent a few more minutes learning the patterns. Coin - cherry - lemon - seven. That was it. The wheel didn't stop immediately, so if she wanted to get the seven, she'd need to hit the button when the coin was facing her. Thus, she had everything she needed. She flashed Soul another confident smile. He looked amused by how seriously she was taking this.

Calm breaths. Tune out everything else. The noise around her faded away. Her field of vision shrunk, darkened, until the spinning wheel was the only thing in sight. The passage of time slowed until Maka could clearly make out what symbol was currently on top. She awaited the perfect moment. Then, permitting no hesitation, she pushed the button. Once, twice, a final time. It was over before it began. She knew she'd done it without even checking. A triumphant look on her face, she turned to her partner. Gloating was a bad habit, but it had to be done sometimes.

"What do you have to say now?"

But Soul didn't look particularly impressed. He just chuckled and pointed at the machine.

"I'd say that you're a dumbass."

No. This wasn't right. She knew for a fact she'd gotten the timing down. So why did this stupid machine not show three sevens, but a rather random assortment of fruit-icons? Had she made a mistake after all? Ignoring her partner's bemused looks, she tried again. Then again. And again. But the wheels never showed what she wanted them to. It didn't make sense. Realizing she had underestimated her opponent, Maka looked to her partner.

"Soul."

The boy stared back, puzzled.

"We need Soul Resonance."

"Huh?!"

His expression was utter bewilderment.

"What are you waiting for? Let's go!"

"Maka, we are not using Soul Resonance to cheat at an Arcade."

Her expression shifted from determined to pouting in a matter of seconds. It must have looked great. When she realized that her exaggerated pout wasn't having the desired effect, Maka ran up to Soul and, for lack of a better word, threw an even more exaggerated tantrum.

"Whatwhynotbesidesitsnotcheatingijustneedtobeatthisthingsoulyoudontunderstandjustcomeonletsdoitpleasepleaseplease"

She was lightly punching him with each word. To her dismay, Soul seemed to think the entire thing was hilarious. He was cackling while he tried to shield himself from her assault as best he could. Before long, the meister calmed down and returned to pouting quietly.

"Some weapon you are. Hmph."

"Relax. Soul Resonance wouldn't have helped, anyway."

That got her attention.

"What do you mean?"

He made a fist and knocked on the machine.

"These things are rigged. The time it takes the wheel to stop isn't consistent."

Maka felt a genuine sense of betrayal.

"Wha- Is that true?"

"Yup. We lost so much money to these as kids."

"That's horrible. Does the owner know?"

"Does he know? Maka, you saw the guy, that's probably how he keeps this place afloat."

She would need to have a word with that man later. Dejected, she sat down on the floor.

"You could have told me that earlier, you know?"

"I could have. But this was way more fun."

She glared at him. Well, she tried to. She was fairly certain a smile had made its way onto her face at some point. It must have been an odd expression. Maka knew she was acting a little childish. She didn't mind, though. Goofing around with Soul was so much fun. After those horribly exhausting days, this was exactly what she had needed.

Given recent experiences, she didn't feel overly inclined to continue competing at the moment. Thus, she was quite happy to see Soul approach some kind of driving game that seemingly only allowed one player. The gimmick here being that, instead of a controller, the player had to get into a mini-car, complete with stirring wheel and pedals. Technically speaking, said car was a two-seater. Emphasis on the technicality. It had clearly been designed for children. Maka wondered whether Soul would even fit in there by himself. Of course, that didn't stop her partner. He tucked his head in, angled his legs and moved into the driver's seat. Both seats, really, but his hands were on the wheel. He then hung his arm out the window frame and kicked his head back to her, visibly trying his absolute hardest to look cool.

"Get in, Babe."

It was supremely corny in the most endearing way.

"Tempting as that sounds, it looks a little crowded in there."

"Naaah, it'll be cozy."

Maka gave an exasperated sigh, but it was mostly for show. She walked around the tiny car and opened the door on her side. Soul had clearly tried to scoot over, but he still took up more than three quarters of the space inside. Try as she might, the meister could not figure out how she was supposed to make this work. She looked to her weapon for support. He just shrugged at her. Before long, she gave up. There were some problems that reason simply could not solve. She made herself as small as she could and dropped her body onto the passenger seat. Surprisingly, her right leg had actually managed to fit onto the fabric. Its left counterpart, on the other hand, was squarely stuck on Soul's lap. Uncomfortable as this position was, her partner hadn't lied. It really was cozy. In a claustrophobic kind of way.

"Smooth."

He still had his arm hanging out the window, like he was about to catcall some poor woman on a crosswalk. Men.

"Just shut up and drive."

"As you wish."

Going off his all around questionable attitude and rebellious tough guy persona, you might be forgiven for assuming Soul was a reckless driver. As far as Maka remembered, however, she had never once felt unsafe riding with him. He drove fast. He took sharp corners. Yet he'd never had an accident, so he clearly understood his limits and knew not to go past them. Maka liked to think that was, at least partially, because he cared about her. Her or his bike. But probably mostly her. Either way, she trusted her partner. A video game could surely be no match for an experienced driver like him.

The large screen behind the windshield depicted an urban landscape. Trees, buildings, cars, all drawn in the hyperrealistic graphics of those old gaming consoles. It was very retro, more or less what she'd expected. What she hadn't expected was that the car would rise and shift and bump with every turn the driver took. She was used to driving at high speeds in a similarly intimate position on Soul's bike, but this was somehow worse. She understood the idea of this machine. When her partner drove fast, it shook. When he turned, it tilted. That part was fine. But there was no way the ride was meant to be this intense. It felt more like a roller coaster than a video game. It was difficult to even talk over the sound of their vibrating surroundings. Maka had to yell.

"SOUL!"

"WHAT?"

"STOP!"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"SLOW DOWN!"

"CAN'T! SORRY! GOTTA BEAT THIS GUY!"

He was racing some other car, apparently. It was difficult to make out much of anything on the blurry screen.

"HOLD ON TIGHT!"

It was a video game. And not a particularly realistic one. She did not need to hold on. There was no danger. Soul floored the gas. It was a video game. She flinched as he narrowly overtook some poor Pick-Up. Just. A. Game. The entire car approached a ninety degree tilt to the left as he took the upcoming turn at full speed. Just a stupid video game!

He exited a dark tunnel. Suddenly, there was a Van right in front of them. Soul slammed the wheel right as far as it went. The screen spun. The car tilted even further. The shaking kicked into overdrive. A shriek escaped her lips. Maka's body was thrown out of her seat and onto her partner. Her hands clutched his shirt. And then it was over. She heaved a big sigh.

"I told you to slow down, you stupid jerk!"

Soul seemed more concerned with the 'Game Over' message on the screen.

"Ahhhhhhhhh I almost HAD him!"

"You almost had us killed, for death's sake. What does it matter?!"

The car had evened out since, yet its two passengers were still pressed tightly against the door on Soul's side. Blood pressure approaching normal again, Maka suddenly felt very silly for getting so worked up. It was just a video game, after all. A few moments later, Soul spoke up again.

"Wes set that time. Half a decade ago. Never was able to beat it."

He pulled up some kind of leader board. It was true. It really did say Wes. All the way up there, at the top of the rankings. The defeat in his tone made her sad. She knew that Soul had always felt inferior to his brother. Beating his ancient high score in some random game wasn't going to do undo that. But it would definitely feel good. She wished for him to get that satisfaction no matter what. Suddenly, it was Maka that really wanted to beat that time. Tragically, that desire inevitably led her to an unfortunate conclusion.

"...we have to go again."

He looked up at her in surprise.

"You're right. We do."

And go again they did. Again. Again. And again. It took several tries, and it never got any easier for her. Whoever designed this machine really knew how to induce anxiety. And nausea. So much nausea. But they got there in the end. When they finally beat Wes' score, Soul didn't give a triumphant roar. Nor did he raise his fist to the sky or slam the car. Yet, when she saw the look in his eyes, she knew for a fact it had been worth it.

"We got him."

He sounded shocked they'd actually pulled it off. There was genuine emotion in his voice.

"We sure did."

She half expected him to tear up.

"Would've gotten him first try with my bike, tho."

Or not. Stupid bike. That wasn't the first time she'd felt a twinge of jealousy towards it. Hiding behind snarky comments was just like him. Just when she thought his immaturity had won out, her partner turned to face her.

"Thanks for this, Maka."

The sheer sincerity behind his eyes was too much for her brain. It wasn't like him. No clever replies came to mind. Lost for words, she felt her face heat up and instinctively averted her eyes. Before the meister knew what was happening, Soul had leaned in and started kissing her. What few neurons had still been firing in her cranium short-circuited as Maka's brain went through a complete reboot. He pulled away all too soon.

"You can be so cute, you know?"

That's right. These things were supposed to be normal for them now. Sure didn't feel that way to her, though. Maka giggled to herself. They really were teenagers, still, weren't they? Seemingly feeling a little awkward about his bold move now, Soul cleared his throat.

"Think it's about time we got out of here?"

He got out and offered her an arm.

"Yeah. Let's go."

She took it gladly. They made their way back to the counter. Maka was somewhat disappointed to find it empty. The sleazy geezer was oddly likeable, and, more importantly, she still had to question him about the slot machine incident.

It did leave her slightly unsatisfied. But as she and her partner left the arcade, arm in arm and happily chatting away, she couldn't honestly claim to care.