Soul wakes up groaning and stretching his neck, trying to shake off the pulsing headache that woke him up. He feels warmer than he usually does in the mornings, and doesn't even need to open his eyes to know why.
Maka.
They had fallen asleep on the couch after…
Ugh. What a night. What a morning.
The only thing missing from his shitty week was an argument with her, but whoever he must've wronged in a past life is clearly not through with making his life hell.
He shifts slightly, burying his nose in her hair without thinking, taking in the scent of her shampoo and it's stupidly comforting. Exhaling, he shifts a little more to sink into the cushions and try to go back to sleep.
No such luck though. Instead, his thoughts start spiraling about their situation.
The memories they saw that morning were… intense, at the very least. And then the… thing? Demon Soul? Imp? Whatever the hell it was, playing mind games like they weren't confused enough. Giving Maka reason to doubt him, right after their talk too…
The worst? He doesn't even know the fuck it was talking about.
Soul huffs and shakes his head as if it'll help clear his thoughts, then looks down at Maka. She's clinging to him in her sleep, looking like a tiny koala with her arms tight around his torso, face soft with the faintest hint of a smile. He sighs; absentmindedly running his fingers feather light up and down her arms.
How right had he been to drag her to the dancefloor at the party, to finally kiss her after so many years of obsessing.
But then again, maybe she wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for that kiss.
If the witch is just playing them—messing with their heads with these fake memories— then all he's done is drag her into his own mess. And now she's stressed about something that shouldn't have been her problem.
And if the memories are real?
What if they remember… and she regrets it? Maybe she prefers this life over the one they lost.
The one they lost…
He swallows hard, eyes trained on the ceiling, trying to push the pain in his chest away. The memories they had uncovered only a few hours ago… They felt way too real to be fake. Way too important.
And he's craving them.
His soul is reaching for that life— that life with her, where they're together, they're settled. Where they're a team.
And it stings. That it might have been taken from them.
Or maybe it was never real, but now he wants it so bad.
His head snaps back down when Maka's breathing pattern changes on his neck. She mumbles something incomprehensible before nuzzling even more into him, muscles slightly tenser than before.
Instinctively, he goes to check their connection to see how she's feeling—
His eyes shoot wide open— their connection! It's still there! Somehow, through the argument, through sleep— she's still asleep!— they're still resonating at a very low level.
And he's feeding her all his anxiety through the link.
He tries to force himself to calm down, to have just a few more minutes with her so blissfully asleep in his arms. And for a moment, it feels like she's settling with the way her body melts into his, her nose buried in his neck. She takes a deep breath and hums, nuzzling her face even further into his chest.
It sounds so happy that he feels heat rushing to his face as he squeezes her just a little.
That's when her breath catches.
And his brain short-circuits.
Maka's confusion bleeds through their connection as her body tenses and he closes his eyes, preparing for the flinch, the scrambling away with panic, the subconscious rejection.
But it doesn't happen.
Instead, she shifts slightly, just enough to stretch, before relaxing against his body again. When he checks, the only thing he can feel from her is soft, warm contentment.
His heart clenches, and he goes completely still, not even breathing for a minute to not shatter whatever this fragile moment is. He knows she's awake, he can feel her thinking in his chest but by some grace of death she's not moving away.
Somehow, he thinks she should be freaking out—pushing him away, scrambling to put space between them, escaping to another room—because this isn't normal. Not yet, anyway. Right? Even though he wants it to be.
They hadn't exactly defined anything that morning, but… they're kind of dating. Ish? Waking up wrapped around each other like this isn't exactly something that brand new couples do.
But then again, nothing that he's done with her feels brand new. Every little touch, banter, smile carries that sense of ease, that familiarity people only feel when they're home, and this moment is no different. Is it so crazy to think that she might be feeling that too?
And maybe that comfort is earned. In another life.
He both loves and hates that idea.
Giving into the need to pretend this is normal for a moment more, he runs a hand up her back, slowly, like he's trying to memorize the dip of her spine. He grins, mostly to himself, when a shiver chases his hand on its way back down.
Almost as if she's been tickled, Maka squirms, arms tightening around him as she curls in just a little more, knees tucking toward her chest.
He can't help himself—she's so tiny and adorable, clinging to him like he's a pillow— and he mutters, "Didn't know I'd adopted a nesting bird."
Her breath quickens against his chest, but instead of pulling away, she lets out a quiet, happy hum, whispering as if to keep from shattering the moment.
"Have you seen your hair? Pretty sure you've got an entire flock in there."
Any tension left in Soul's body vanishes as he lets out a bark of laughter. Maka lifts her head, eyes bright, a triumphant grin stretching across her face that tells him she's proud of that one.
He's about to fight fire with fire, ready to make another sarcastic remark, but she beats him to it. Her lips press against his jaw in a soft, fleeting kiss; just a lazy brush of her lips but it has him not breathing.
And then, just like that, she settles back down—shimmying against him like she's done this a thousand times, like she knows exactly where she belongs, where she fits. Like she knows there's nothing else he'd rather be doing right now than laying here, holding her.
Maybe she does, he thinks.
His heart grows three sizes with the thought. He places a hand on her cheek to pull her face from its hiding place, and brush his lips against hers. Her soul coils around his, purring like a cat as they share lazy, innocent pecks.
Neither of them wanting to think about the tension of the past few days, they just lay there for what feels like hours. Her soul is so openly happy to be there, to be with him that he almost has to fight tears.
After a couple of slow, bliss filled moments, Maka shifts in her place, taking her face away from his. He knows his soul is broadcasting his disappointment with the loss as he pulls her back to place fleeting kisses all over her face. He can't give a single fuck, though— it has her giggling.
She tries to escape, managing to dodge his lips a few times, letting out a triumphant little sound every time she does. When he catches her eyes, there is a challenging glint in them, and he growls.
He tries to get a hold of any squirming body part that he can to block any escape routes. Maka slaps and pushes his searching hands away, only half-heartedly. He knows if she really wanted to flee, she could beat him to a pulp. Easily, too.
At some point, he manages to catch her wrists in one hand, using the other to pull her closer by her waist and lands a kiss on her lips— finally— but by that point, her laughter has become uncontrollable.
He lets go of her wrists, opting to just hug her as her chest heaves against him, bubbly giggles breaking the pattern every once in a while, as she tries to take control of her breathing again.
When she's completely relaxed against him, basically melted into him, his hands find her hair again, fingers running through the golden locks.
"So, we do this now?" she asks, fingers tracing circles on his chest.
"Yeah," his eyes open to watch her reaction— when had he closed them? "Is that cool?"
He feels it when she does her analysis, calculating thoughts slipping through their connection easily, completely unguarded, mostly out of habit.
When huge, green eyes look back at him they're bright, a little shy but so fucking happy that there are—
"Yeah, it is."
Butterflies in his stomach. Damn. He should be too cool to have the fluttery bitches, but not with her, apparently.
He can't help the thump-thump-thumping of his heart and the grin that stretches on his face— which matches hers!—, and once again, he pulls her closer. This time he presses his lips to the side of her neck, both hands squeezing around her waist.
Maka hums before pulling away, and it makes him groan pathetically, but everything is fine again when he realizes she's only settling in. She drapes her body over his, bracing herself on her knees and elbows on either side of his body.
Soul can't take his eyes off her as she pushes some hair behind her ear— an ear that's so delightfully pink that he barely pushes down the embarrassing, girly giggle bubbling in his throat.
When her hand comes back down, it settles on his chest, and she slowly lowers herself back towards his face.
But she's not quick enough, and Soul is way too eager. His hands find her waist and cheek to tug her against him. In his rush to get closer, he completely misses, his lips landing clumsily on her chin instead.
Luckily, for once, Maka lets it slide. No teasing or witty remarks— seems like there are more important things that demand her attention right now.
Like absolutely blowing his mind.
Because then she takes matters into her own hands. Capturing his lower lip between her teeth, nibbling with just enough pressure to have his eyes fluttering shut.
After that, it's heaven.
His hands press her tighter against him, every curve of her body molding into their rightful place. Still not close enough. He's convinced she never will be.
For a few moments— not nearly long enough, in his opinion— they trade slow, lingering kisses. Easily the best morning of his life. Especially when she pulls away to breathe.
Because then he gets to see the flush adorning her cheeks, eyes the brightest green he's ever seen, feels the way her breath mingles with his, heating his skin. His blood boils in his veins, thrumming like live wire.
They study each other for some time, chests heaving in sync, hands gently mapping any skin they can find like they're trying to memorize each other's presence by touch alone.
And then, it turns into hell on earth.
His phone starts screaming somewhere on the couch, shattering their fragile, perfect morning and they both lose their shit.
Maka is quick to grab it while he groans, throwing his head back into the cushions. In her hurry to shut the damn thing up, she completely misses the red button.
Not that she notices. Because the second she throws the phone aside in favor of going back in for another kiss, they hear it.
The absolute worst sound imaginable in that moment.
"WHAAAAAAAT THE FUCK IS THIS?"
Maka shrieks, kicking and hitting him in important places in the process of getting the fuck away from him.
"Ow! Maka, chill!" Soul exclaims, trying to sit up as she keeps scrambling. He reaches for the phone, groaning upon seeing his best friend's face on the fucking screen.
With the biggest shit eating grin Soul has ever seen.
"SOUL EATER FUCKING EVANS, HOW DARE YOU? YOU SNEAKY LITTLE BITCH!"
"I— shut the fuck up, Black*Star."
"SHUT THE WHAT UP? WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE TALKING TO? ADDRESS YOUR GOD PROPERLY, PEASANT!" He laughs, but it sounds more like roaring thunder when he does, and Soul is scared of exactly what is coming.
"AND YOU— YOU MOTHERFUCKER! WHEN WERE YOU GONNA TELL ME, HUH? AT THE WEDDING?"
A squeak leaves Maka's face, and Soul takes a note of the blush on her face to tease her later as she almost buries herself to the other side of the couch.
"It's not that big of a—" He starts, but gets cut off, much to his expectations.
"NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL? TSUBAKI, GET A LOAD OF THIS. NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL? DO YOU EVEN HEAR YOURSELF? I TRUSTED YOU, WITH MY LIFE, AND THIS IS WHAT I GET IN RETURN?"
"Black*Star—" Maka tries in a burst of bravery, it seems. She even reaches for the phone.
"DON'T EVEN 'BLACK*STAR' ME, ALBARN. YOU WILL GET YOUR TURN ONCE I'M DONE WITH THIS LYING DICK."
The girl flinches first, and furrows her brows right after, crossing her arms over her chest.
"SOUL EATER FUCKING EVANS, YOU HAVE LOOKED ME IN THE EYES. YOU HAVE PROMISED, NO— SWORN THAT YOU WERE OVER HER! YOU WERE ALL LIKE, 'NAH MAN, IT'S BEEN YEARS. I'M OVER IT.' AND THAT WAS ONLY A WEEK AGO! SO YOU LIED TO ME?"
Soul groans and drops the phone on the couch. When he meets Maka's eyes, her face is relaxed with her eyebrows almost up to her hairline with a question. Oh, he's scared of that one.
"TELL ME, SOUL, HOW DOES IT FEEL TO DECEIVE YOUR GOD?"
The moment of silence before Soul opens his mouth to answer is exactly when he realizes something.
"WAIT— WAIT, WAIT, WAIT."
"What."
"HOLY FUCK. WHEN THE FUCK DID THIS HAPPEN?"
"Fucking yesterday." Maka mumbles, already done with Black*Star's antics, getting ready to leave the couch.
"YOU GUYS FUCKED YESTERDAY? OH MY FUCKING GOD, IT'S WORSE THAN I THOUGHT!"
"BLACK*STAR, SHUT THE FUCK UP! WE DID NOT—" Soul yells.
"THE BETRAYAL. I CAN'T TAKE THIS. TSUBAKI, HOLD ME! THIS IS THE FALL OF A GOD. THE END OF AN ERA. MY BEST BRO AND OLDEST FOLLOWER ARE NO LONGER VIRGINS."
"BLACK*STAR!" Maka screams from between her fingers which are covering her face now.
Soul himself grabs a pillow to cover his face and scream in.
"AND YOU— MAKA FUCKING ALBARN. NERD EXTRAORDINAIRE. QUEEN OF THE GEEKS. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" He takes a moment to breathe, and gasps instead before continuing immediately, like if he wasn't quick about this it would be the end of the world.
"EXCEPT SOUL. DO NOT SAY SOUL."
Maka groans, loudly, and takes the edge of the blanket to bury herself under.
"I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU HAD THE HOTS FOR MY BROSKI OVER HERE. WITH THE GOOGLY EYES AND EVERYTHING."
Black*Star laughs one more time, before taking yet another pause that nobody dares interrupt.
"While I'm at it… TSUBAKI! YOU KNEW NERDBOMB HERE WAS TRYING TO GET IN SOUL'S PANTS, DIDN'T YOU? HOW DARE YOU HIDE VALUABLE INFORMATION FROM ME!"
Tsubaki sighs in the background, having dealt with one of his breakdowns way too many times.
"Black*Star, don't you think you should congratulate your best friend?"
Somehow, he stops and listens to what his weapon has to say. Tsubaki had always been the only one that could reach him, anyway. If there is anyone that can calm this certain storm without Maka and Soul getting killed, it's her.
"You said your best friend has been hoping for this for a long time, didn't you? Then… wouldn't a real friend be happy to see him finally get what he's been wishing for?"
There is a moment of silence, and Soul removes the pillow, takes the phone back in his hand to see what's going on the other end of the call. Maybe Black*Star simply died and they don't have to deal with this anymore.
"HOLY SHIT."
Apparently, he had used up all his wishes on getting smooched.
"TSUBAKI, YOU'RE A GENIUS. THIS IS WHY YOU'RE MY RIGHT-HAND WOMAN. YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO UNDERSTANDS ME. OF COURSE I SHOULD BE HAPPY. THIS IS ALL MY DOING! I AM A GOD! MY INFINITE WISDOM AND FUCKING AMAZING MATCHMAKING SKILLS HAVE LED TO THIS MOMENT!"
Maka groans from the kitchen, one hand on her waist and the other holding a glass of water. Or vodka. "You did nothing."
"OH, PLEASE." He scoffs. "IF IT WASN'T FOR ME PUSHING SOUL FOR YEARS, YOU TWO WOULD STILL BE MAKING EYES FROM ACROSS THE ROOM LIKE AWKWARD FUCKING TEENAGERS."
His face contorts into a grin, eyes almost disappearing and Soul can swear he can see his breakfast. He's sure it's like 12 eggs he just swallowed like pills.
"SOUL EVANS, YOU HAVE TWO CHOICES!" Black*Star continues shouting, shaking Soul out of his stupor.
"YOU EITHER FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN TO REPENT FOR YOUR TREACHERY, OR YOU GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BEG FOR MY FORGIVENESS LIKE THE SNEAKY LITTLE BITCH YOU ARE! YOUR GOD IS A GENEROUS ONE, YOU SEE. I SHALL GIVE YOU MY BLESSING ALONG WITH MY FORGIVENESS IF YOU DO SO, OR WIN."
"Ugh," Soul groans, and rolls his eyes, throwing the phone to the other side of the couch. It hits the cushion and falls on the ground, where it belongs, honestly. It doesn't affect Black*Star's monologue at all. He probably didn't even notice.
"IF YOU DIE, YOU WILL BE MISSED, EATER. A TRUE BRO. A FALLEN SOLDIER. A LOYAL BACHELOR, GONE TOO SOON."
Maka groans into her hands. Soul just stares at the ceiling in defeat.
"EITHER WAY, I EXPECT TO SEE YOUR COWARDLY ASS AT DWMA BY TWO PM SHARP. IF YOU'RE NOT THERE— YOU'RE DEAD TO ME."
He pauses.
Then, continues, dead serious: "Tsubaki, write that down."
And then there is a click. The punishment is over. For now.
They are silent for a moment as Maka walks herself over to the couch, and hands him a glass of water as well. He mumbles a thanks as he takes and downs it in one breath.
"Guess we have to go to DWMA. Wouldn't want you to die." She tries to casually remark, but Soul can hear the slight edge on her voice. She probably wants to talk about this, but Soul's all talked out.
"Yeah," he pushes a hand through his hair, and is reminded of the last time he showered. It takes him a second to remember, and a lot of willpower to not grimace when he does.
It was right before leaving Alaska. A 15-minute thing, too. He still needs a deep clean.
He takes another look at Maka. Her nose should be hurting from how much she's been around him by now.
Ew, he thinks on her behalf.
"I just really, really need to take a shower first."
An hour and a half later, he's showered, picked Maka up with his bike, and made it to DWMA.
Fully expecting Black*Star to jump him from out of nowhere, he walks up the stairs as slowly as humanly possible, trailing behind Maka—who is practically skipping.
They'd talked about checking his official records on the way, and he'd agreed. Reluctantly.
He can still drag his feet and complain about it, though.
Whatever's waiting for them in those files scares him more than the wrath of his so-called "God," but there's no way in hell he's telling Maka that. She's already carrying enough.
Almost as if she can hear his thoughts, she turns to glance back at him. He raises his brows at her in question, still taking the stairs. She reaches a hand towards him, silently, with just the hint of a smile.
His heart literally skips a beat. And his legs skip a few steps to reach her.
Her hand is warm in his, and she doesn't let go even when he falls behind a couple times. It's grounding, and he focuses on their connection instead of the sense of dread creeps in with every step.
Once they've made it up, he looks around for Black*Star, but it doesn't seem like he's there, or has noticed that Soul has arrived. Relief fills him— he'd rather not have to deal with his antics right now— and he gently tugs Maka by her hand towards the entrance.
The DWMA is as lively as always. Even though it's the weekend and there are no classes, plenty of students have shown up to train, study, grab missions—or just hang out. Soul watches the crowd as they move through it, looking for a certain brunette to have a quick chat.
He doesn't expect to get the opportunity so quickly though. Some girl calls his name from behind them.
Maka turns before him, hand slipping from his in the process, and crosses her arms over her chest. Soul blinks at the sudden loss, but quickly makes up for it by wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
She doesn't give it away on the outside, but he feels just the slightest bit of approval from her side of their connection. Aside from that, she's all rigid tension. She's already clocked who's headed their way.
He grins. Is it too much of a dick move to hope she's maybe just a little jealous?
"Hey Soul!" One of the girls calls out as they rush over, but the moment they notice Maka tucked under his arm the pack slows down. They multiply on their way over, four becoming six, six becoming too many to count and he can't even tell who's speaking anymore.
"Who is this?"
The tone makes his eye twitch. Anger spikes in his chest. All the girls are shooting daggers at Maka, and she's not holding her own anger back, too.
"Do any of you know where this Remera girl is?"
The question leaves his lips of its own accord, all sharp and deliberate. His arm tightens around Maka. Her reaction flickers through their connection— surprise? confusion? — but she doesn't say anything.
The girls blink at him. They start murmuring amongst themselves, glancing at one another with blank expressions until one finally speaks.
"Who's Remera?"
Maka's head immediately snaps up to look at him, but he doesn't look away from the girls. It takes a second to sink in. Who's Remera?
He's about to say something, but another girl cuts him off.
"Wait, wait— Isn't that the upperclassman? The brunette? She used to hang out with this guy who never spoke? I think he graduated, though…"
That starts another wave of murmurs, overlapping voices trying to place the girl in different memories. It's overbearing, and Soul tightens his arm around Maka.
Something feels wrong with this whole encounter. Off. He can't put his finger on it.
"Whatever," he snaps, cutting the chatter short. "Has anyone actually seen her lately?"
Silence.
He turns this time, meeting Maka's gaze. She looks just as confused as he does. Soul drops her arm from around her, only to take her hand instead.
"We'll see you guys around." He says flatly, already pulling her away.
He can't escape the crowd fast enough. Just as they move out of earshot, a whisper catches up to them:
"That was rude."
To their luck, Black*Star finds them when Maka insists on checking her locker.
They are just walking towards that corridor, they turn a corner, and there he is.
To their surprise, he doesn't immediately attack Soul, though. First, his soul leaves his body after staring at Maka for a second.
He starts screaming right after.
Soul can't even follow what he's saying. Black*Star's hands are on Maka's shoulders as he shakes her and yells some stupid shit about the importance of saving herself or something.
And then Soul remembers the small hickey he had left on her neck. Normal people wouldn't have noticed. Hell, even Maka hadn't. But of course, Black*Star—stupidly perceptive for someone with zero brain cells—had clocked it immediately.
He makes a swift escape before either meister remember to kill him for that sin, moving over to Tsubaki's side with his hands in his pockets.
"They are lively today," she mentions casually.
"They sure are," he starts, before sighing. "Sorry about this morning, I know you have to deal with him when he goes feral like that."
Soul pushes a hand through his hair as she smiles kindly.
"It's all good, Soul. I have gotten used to his antics a long time ago."
When his eyes return to Maka and Black*Star, he's pulling one of her ponytails, trying to get a better look at the hickey, and her hand is flat on his cheek, pushing him away.
"QUIT IT, BLACK*STAR! WE HAVE BUSINESS TO TEND TO!"
"WHAT KIND OF BUSINESS COULD YOU HAVE?"
"NONE OF YOURS!"
Despite himself, Soul laughs brightly. He shakes his head, smiling as he speaks.
"I've said it before, but she really is lucky she's cute."
"That she is." Tsubaki agrees, nodding slowly. "So what were you two doing, anyway?" she hides her smile behind her hand, only slightly, and Soul almost believes that she doesn't want him to feel teased.
"Well, I was working on this mission Kid assigned me. Had some stuff to figure out so obviously I went to the chief of nerds." He explains with a snort, hoping she doesn't question him further.
"Uh huh. And getting help on missions usually leads to kissing on the couch, right?" She snickers.
"You're no better than him, are you?" Soul complains. "I should have known. You actually control him from the shadows, don't you? The mastermind behind," he gestures towards Black*Star. "This particular freakshow."
"Okay dumbasses, let's go find out what my bro needs for his mission!" Black*Star suddenly interrupts, and Soul notices that Maka is fixing her hair and the bickering has stopped. How that happened must've been some magic.
"What happened to killing me?" he asks, incredulous.
Black*Star starts walking, laughing as he does so.
"Tsubaki helped me realize that you're my Brophet. You've sinned, but it's fine. You're not a God like me, after all. The people shall learn from your mistakes."
And then he just keeps walking, like he didn't start a full cult sermon just now. Fucking weirdo.
Soul starts walking behind the two meisters, who have for some reason started bickering again, Tsubaki by his side still. They are silent for a beat before Tsubaki decides to change that.
"I think it's sweet. I don't think I've ever seen you this comfortable around anyone before." A sweet chuckle accompanies the sentence, sincere and light.
But the drastic change in the teasing tone of the conversation catches Soul off guard. "What does that mean?" He stiffens for a moment, not completely willing to spill his guts to the best friend of the girl he's completely obsessed with.
"Just an observation."
Soul exhales through his nose, not rejecting the idea but not approving it as well as he pulls his hood to his head. He can feel adrenaline rushing through his body, his ears are thumping as they approach the records room.
Soul's stomach tightens as they come to a stop, and even Black*Star is silent for a moment as they all stare at the doors. Checking first for anyone watching them, Maka tries the lock and scowls when it stays closed with a click.
"Figures, only staff has access." Soul comments.
"Well, shit," Black*Star crosses his arms. "What now?"
"We call Kid," Maka states plainly, "He's the one who put importance on this mission. We'll just wait for him and then—"
Black*Star sounds personally offended as he bumps her hip with his, "Move aside, nerdzilla. You can thank your king later." And he crouches by the door handle.
"YOU CAN'T JUST PICK THE LOCK TO SHIBUSEN'S RECORD ROOM—" Maka lunges for him, yanking at his collar.
"Watch." is his only reply as he grins and keeps working on the door, unfazed as she starts hitting his head.
"STOP IT! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!" Maka is fully losing her mind now, "DO YOU WANT TO BE STEIN'S TEST SUBJECT FOR WEEKS?!"
Tsubaki sighs. "Black*Star, maybe Maka's right, we should just wait for Kid."
Soul, thoroughly entertained, leans against the opposite wall and watches the chaos unfold. He can already tell there's no stopping this, and frankly, he doesn't see the problem. For a moment, he allows himself to relax and enjoy the show.
"You know," he says, voice lazy, "We could just let him do it and pretend we don't know anything."
Maka whips her head around to glare at him, eyes blazing with fury. He smirks, tilting his head.
"It's an option."
Click.
The door swings open.
Maka stares in absolute betrayal as Black*Star looks up at her, triumphant. "What was that, nerd? I couldn't hear you over the sound of my overwhelming success."
She smacks him on the head, "DID THEY DROP YOU ON YOUR HEAD AS A CHILD? YOU CAN'T JUST PICK LOCKS!"
"I just did," Black*Star laughs, rubbing where her palm landed. "It was super easy too."
Maka reaches for his throat as he walks inside, still laughing loudly, unaware of the murderous blonde going for his ass. Soul pushes of the wall and quickly grabs one of her hands to pull her back, draping an arm over her shoulders before she can launch her attack.
"Easy," he murmurs in her ear, still very amused. "No witness, no crime."
He feels Maka's body tense for a second, like she wants to resist, but then she exhales sharply, her shoulders slumping just slightly against him.
"I hate all of you people," she says under her breath.
Soul grins. "That's fair."
Black*Star, meanwhile, is already inside the records room, oblivious to the murder attempt Soul just saved his ass from. "Well? Are we doin' this or not?" he calls.
Maka groans, rubbing her temples. "I swear, if we get in trouble—"
"You're an accomplice now, just accept it," Soul quips, giving her shoulder a light squeeze before finally pulling her inside. She scowls at him, but there's no real fire behind it.
Tsubaki gives him a small, sincere smile as she follows them inside. The door clicks shut behind them.
"So, what the fuck are we lookin' for in here, anyways?" Black*Star calls, walking to the center of the room with his hands behind his head.
"Well," Maka starts, "Anything that relates to Soul himself, actually. We just need his file and we're good." She looks around for a moment before escaping from under Soul's arm, rushing towards a specific shelf.
"Why are you looking for Soul's file?" Tsubaki asks, already starting to browse.
Soul sighs as he walks around, just eyeing the shelves, listening to their conversation. Maka's going to find the file before any of them anyway.
"Any file that might relate to a mission in Italy with a chest wound also works." Maka says, silently and Soul hopes their friends don't hear it. But Tsubaki hums in acknowledgement and he knows she's already piecing a theory together.
They are all silently looking around for a few minutes, before Black*Star breaks the calm.
"Wait, did y'all hear that?"
Soul instantly whips his head to locate all his friends, and his eyes lock with Maka's. When she nods, he starts to walk over to her, as slowly and silently as possible and he sees Tsubaki moving towards Black*Star.
Maka seems to be listening closely when both weapons come to a stop, eyes closed and concentrating, and Soul reaches for her hand. She holds onto him tightly.
It's serene and silent in the records room, until it isn't.
A loud rumble that has his ears thrumming sounds in the room, and the lights flicker a couple times before he hears:
"Who dares enter the DWMA's records room without permission?"
Busted.
"Are you aware of the danger you are putting yourself in?"
Ugh, here comes the monologue.
"There is a reason why this door is always locked, and only authorized personnel is allowed in. This room holds records from since DWMA has been established, there are things in here that the human mind can't comprehend. You may get anything from a deadly virus that hasn't been released in a million years, or accidentally read some spell that can—"
"UGH, Kid, it's just us!" Black*Star yells. "STOP WITH THE LECTURE ALREADY!"
"Oh," the figure with the hood that seemed to materialize in the middle of the room said. "What are you guys doing here?"
He takes off his mask and hood, and the lights return to normal as he walks towards them.
Maka sighs and slaps her palm to his forehead before yelling, "I TOLD YOU WE'D GET CAUGHT. YOU CAN'T JUST ENTER ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION, BLACK*STAR!"
"I have to say I am surprised that you're an accomplice in this, Maka. I would have trusted you to be the adult in this particular group."
He says it like just a fact— no judgement, no disappointment, not in a raised voice. But Maka's soul visibly leaves her body, anyway. Her eyes go wide, her posture straightens like she's been slapped by divine authority, and for a second she just stares at him, completely stunned.
"No," Soul hears her whisper. Her voice is so broken that he has to flip his head so that she won't see his snicker, but squeezes her hand in an attempt to support her through this nightmare of being caught in an act of crime by an authority figure who doesn't even give a fuck.
"Relax, he seems cool with it." He mutters, mouth twitching still as he turns back towards her.
"That doesn't matter, Soul!" She hisses, squeezing his hand back almost to the point of pain. "He's disappointed in me!"
"Pretty sure he doesn't care, Maka," he grits out, pulling his hand from her grasp, "Also, ow!"
"Sorry," she says sheepishly as he rubs his hand. "It's just nerve-wrecking."
"Yeah, I bet, you almost broke my fingers! Death, it's like someone caught you stealin' or something."
Maka stares at him, mortified. "This is worse!"
Soul cocks an eyebrow. "Worse than possibly being put in jail for theft?"
"Yes!" she hisses. "I can live with jail! I can't live with Kid thinking I'm irresponsible!"
He laughs under his breath at that, "You got your priorities straight."
"Look, he's not going to trust me with anything anymore! We had such a good relationship, now I'll just be like another Black*Star to him…" She buries her face in her hands, and he's convinced that she just might be crying.
"Hey, hey—" he coos as he reaches for her wrists. "I don't think that's even possible." He chuckles softly, brushing a thumb over her hand gently.
"It's not." Kid agrees from somewhere behind them.
Maka lets out a breath of relief and lets Soul pry her hands away. She hasn't cried, but the look in her eyes is so broken that he has to stifle a laugh, again and it's getting so hard to do so.
"Yeah, Albarn, we're all chill here. EXCEPT YOU!" Black*Star yells from somewhere, and bellows a laugh so loud Soul can swear the shelves trembled a little. "Anyways, KID, we're looking for my main man Soul's file here for his mission. Ya seen it?"
Soul presses a kiss on both of Maka's hands before letting go of one and lacing his fingers through the other. He grins when she blushes and quickly averts her gaze— her eyes darting to Black*Star, watching their almighty God converse with the actual God of Death.
Kid's gaze shifts to them. "Why are you looking for Soul's file? Does it relate to the case in any way?"
"Well, Kid, it's a little hard to explain…" Maka starts, the edge of her voice tightening as she straightens up. "We had some visions last night that we think might relate to Soul's—" She pauses, searching for the right word. "—experience in Alaska."
"You had some visions… together?" Kid repeats, an eyebrow raising.
It's amusing to watch Maka's blush get at least three shades darker, but this time his cheeks are heating up too— so it's not nearly as fun anymore.
"Yeah, well," he starts to explain, rubbing the back of his neck, hoping to save Maka from this line of questioning. "After seeing you yesterday I stopped by Maka's place to check in…"
Kid's eyes move from him to Maka, then back to him again, convinced by what he reads from their faces. "We should continue this conversation in the Death Room."
The Thompson Sisters are hanging out in the Death Room when they arrive, and Liz's eyes meet Maka's, completely full of joy upon having immediately noticed Soul's hand still grasping her own like a lifeline.
She's on Maka in an instant, pulling her away from Soul with an innocent smile and a shrug.
"You two seem awfully cozy. I need details right now!" She squeals when she's sure Soul is out of earshot, holding both Maka's hands in hers. Maka is vaguely aware of how Soul is watching them carefully, from the way his part of their resonance thrums with curiosity.
Maka feels her face flush, not being used to this kind of girl-talk with anyone other than Tsubaki. "I think you will get details in a minute, Liz."
"Girl, no. Nothing that relates to the mission. Didn't he return just yesterday? What happened?"
"Maka, we should start." Kid calls, almost as if they're starting a business meeting.
"After, Liz, alright? Promise." Maka replies, turning to where the rest of the group is waiting for her around the table. After taking just a step, she turns back to the taller girl, the thought having entered her mind in just the right moment.
"Actually, do you know a girl named Remera?" she asks, tilting her head a little. She can feel that Soul has heard the question because now she can feel his anger flowing to her soul.
Liz's eyebrows scrunch in thought. "Remera?"
"Yeah. Brunette, older than us, kind of aloof. I had a run-in with her last week and she… said some things."
Liz goes quiet, shaking her head after only a second.
"That doesn't ring a bell, sorry. What did she say to you?"
Across the room, Kid turns once more towards her, and calmly calls for Maka.
"There is no student, staff member or associate in the DWMA by that name." He explains. "I know every name and face that is in our system. She doesn't go here."
Maka's eyes find Soul's, and their combined confusion is the only palpable thing in their resonance for a moment.
"Tell me more about these visions." Kid continues, and Maka walks towards them.
Soul's grabby fingers reach for her the second she's in range, arm coiling around her waist, and she leans into him naturally as she starts to speak.
"Well, I had the first one after I saw the scar on Soul's chest last night—"
Which, of course, it's a terrible way to phrase it because Black*Star is there.
"And what were the circumstances under which that happened, Ms. Albarn?" He asks, tone mock-formal right before his face splits into a huge, smug grin as Maka scowls at him.
"I saw that I was the reason he got it." She sighs, and Soul's hand squeezes her waist, the tenderness in the move causing warmth spread through her body. "We were fighting against some pink haired girl and she slashed Soul when he tried to protect me."
Her eyes follow Kid's as they move to first Soul's hand around her, then flick briefly to his chest, before returning to her face. "What else?"
"I also saw this moment in my sleep, just… clearer. With more detail. Then I woke Soul up—" She cuts herself off when she notices her slip-up, burying her face in one palm.
Across the room, Tsubaki catches Black Star's sleeve before he can even inhale a comment.
"We tried resonating," Soul continues from where she left off, to her relief. "And a whole bunch of shit came out. Memories, stuff including the both of us."
Kid nods once, thoughtful. "Be specific."
"I saw the same scene Maka did, in the church…" Soul says. "Only from my perspective. The moment matched the audio hallucination thing I had in Alaska when I found the vest. The doors open inwards or something. It triggered the same pain in my scar, too."
"The other visions… They were like memories. They felt so—" Maka takes over, and breathes in deep. "So real. Like they belong to us, but they never happened."
There's a pause when Kid watches them closely, hand on his chin, considering everything they just told him.
"You two were close in these memories? Like you are now?" Kid's eyes are trained on Soul as he asks the question.
Maka nods quickly, blushing a little again, and feels Soul's head move behind hers as well. Kid crosses his arms, watching Soul, not moving at all.
Soul shifts his weight uncomfortably behind her.
"And this girl," he finally continues, "She has pink hair?"
Maka nods again. "Short, uneven…" Soul replies. "Black sword."
Kid sighs, moving a hand to pinch his nose. "We need to talk to Stein, then. This confirms our theory."
"What theory?" The two ask in unison.
Kid moves to behind the mirror without a word, and places some old parchments on the table.
"Are these…?" Soul trails off, and Maka looks at him over her shoulder.
"Yes, the parchments you found in Alaska. Professor Stein was able to figure out that they are the instructions for a high-level memory alteration spell."
Maka stops breathing.
Her hand immediately finds purchase on Soul's, squeezing until she hears his breath catch.
"You mean…"
"The memories you saw have the potential of being real." Kid confirms with a nod.
Maka is still blinking, staring at the parchments like she can't even believe they're real. There's a beat of silence in the room, and she feels faint until Soul's other hand move to hold hers, and the arm around her tightens considerably.
"You… knew, right? Even before Soul brought the parchments. That only reinforced your theory." She asks, finally, sad eyes moving back to meet Kid's. "That's why you pushed us to resonate."
Kid's nod is solemn, meant not to console but only to agree. "I suspected. It is not the two of you who have been affected by this spell. We have been investigating this for two months, but you two seem to be the only two to realize on your own." He takes a deep breath, folding his arms behind him. "That is why I think you two might be the key to breaking the spell."
"Why didn't you just tell us?" It's Soul's turn to question him, and Maka checks in with him through their bond as he does.
Betrayal, anger, sadness, and loss…
Not a far cry from how she's feeling herself.
"Because you would have tried to fix it all at once." Kid's gaze moves directly on Maka as he speaks. "Memory spells are dangerous. One wrong move and you might never get all of them back, and we don't know the extent of this one yet."
Silence reigns over the Death Room again, as they try to come to terms with what they're hearing.
"So, you think the memories are real, then? Because we thought they might have been planted." Soul asks.
"I do think they are real. Only buried deep by the spell." Kid sighs again. "Until we find out who… or why… I suggest you keep resonating and training. Try to uncover as many memories as you can."
He pauses then, before adding softly:
"I trust your judgement, Maka." His eyes flick from her to Soul. "Even if it leads you to somewhere I don't quite understand yet."
Maka meets his eyes for a moment, before calmly stating: "I need to sit down."
Soul's arms are tight around her as he leads her to a chair, and even when she sits down, his hands are on her shoulders.
"So, am I to understand that some bitch stole my gang's memories?" Black*Star finally opens his damn mouth, but Maka has never been so happy to hear him talk.
Kid starts to explain from the beginning, Patty and Liz joining the conversation then, and the attention is finally off them. Maka takes a deep breath, burying her face in both her palms as Soul leans down, hugging her shoulders.
"We're gonna be okay."
IM SORRY
IM SORRY I KNOW THIS IS SUPER LATE
i have like 3 more fanfic ideas that im NOT LETTING MYSELF WRITE because i want to finish this first but whenever i write this i feel like im rushing it so i keep rewriting basically everything and UGH you know how it is. also had some awful health issues in the last month that im still dealing with so my focus was not this, sadly. but here you go! i have to tell yall we only have a couple chapters left. max 5 im thinking.
anyway good night