A/N: How do? My name's Kelliestar, and this is my first Soul Eater fanfic, so I hope I'll do all right for a first try. The summary for this was kinda crap, but this chapter pretty much explains what's going on. This isn't gonna be pure SoulxMaka fluff or anything, but I guarantee there will be SoulxMaka. Same thing for KidxPatty, but it's more on the minor side.

Anyway, enjoy. :)

Soul Eater (c) Atsushi Ohkubo

Chapter 1: Transfer

"You're late."

"Sorry. The shelter's kinda far from here and my bunkmate was having another episode, so I had to calm him before I left."

"Whatever. You got the list?"

"Yeah, it's right here."

"Good . . . I don't see Jenny's name."

"Huh?"

"Why isn't Jenny here?"

"I dunno."

"What do you mean you don't know? You're the one who wrote the damn thing."

". . . I like Jenny."

"And?"

"Well . . . she shouldn't be on the list."

"Why?"

"Because she's nice. She hasn't done anything wrong to anybody, so why should she –"

"That's it? Because she's nice?"

"No, I –"

"So you're saying she's better than everyone else here? That she doesn't deserve this but all these other people do?"

"I didn't mean –"

"Maybe you forgot how things work here. I, am rich. You, are homeless. The rich people make money, and the poor people do stuff for them. What are you doing for me?"

"Putting people on the list."

"Right. And why do those people go on the list?"

"Because you say so?"

"Exactly. That said, keep writing those lists, don't forget your place, and we won't have a problem."

"But Jenny –"

"She's going on the list."

". . . Okay."

"Good."

"C-Can we end this early?

"Why?"

"I'm hungry."

". . . Fine. Do what you want."

"Thanks."

". . . Freak."

"Ugh . . . Are we there yet?" an agonized Liz groaned, her feet pulled up in her chair and drool down her chin.

"I think I see the airport from here, Liz-chan," Tsubaki replied, glancing out the airplane window. "We should be landing in a few minutes."

"Finally!" Black*Star exclaimed, his legs crossed tightly and his hands to his nether regions. "My ass is asleep and I gotta piss like a horse!"

Behind Black*Star, Kid cocked a perfectly plucked brow, his chin resting in his left hand. "You do know there's a restroom on this plane, right?"

"No there's not! The thing's been shut down since we got here, I even checked!"

"Actually, Black*Star," Tsubaki timidly admitted, "I went about an hour ago and its fine."

"Me too," Liz added.

"What?" As if the discovery set something off in his system, Black*Star started squirming around, kicking his legs wildly as his bladder began to weaken. "So what've I been holding my pee for?"

"Well you'll have to hold it a bit longer," Liz said. "Patty went in about ten minutes ago."

"Ten minutes? Who spends ten minutes in a restroom?"

"Patty," Liz and Kid said in unison.

Black*Star let out a growl of frustration and thumped his head against the back of Soul's seat. Somehow, this didn't wake the crimson-eyed albino, who was sleeping soundly against Maka's shoulder, his spiky white hair bristling against her neck. His mouth hung open a bit, and his snores sounded much like a quiet vacuum cleaner, but it didn't seem to bother the blond bookworm. Her mind was too enveloped in her copy of Jane Eyre to mind the snoring, although either way she wouldn't care at all. His head felt kind of nice. His hair was fluffy.

"Raaar!"

The four other Shibusen students glanced down the aisle. Walking towards them with her arms jutting forward, walking with a robotic stride, Patty had returned from the restroom, now covered head to toe in toilet paper.

"Raaaaar, I'm a mummy!" she giggled, her forever luminescent blush glowing behind the thin paper.

Liz shook her head, hoping the flight attendant didn't look Patty's way and charge them for overusing the toilet paper. Kid pinched the bridge of his nose and gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to tear the "costume" off her and cause a ruckus on the plane. Patty simply sat down, giggling as she leaned playfully against her meister.

"It's about time," Black*Star muttered, unbuckling his seat belt and standing up to go to the restroom.

At that moment, the flight attendant called down the aisle, "Sir, please stay seated! We'll be landing in two minutes!"

Black*Star let out a desperate cry and tried to make a run for it, only to be restrained by Tsubaki. This didn't help to slow the boy down as he screamed and shouted curse words at the stewardess, drawing attention to both himself and his well-endowed partner.

All this commotion still wasn't able to wake Soul, who mumbled something about Excalibur as he snuggled into Maka's shoulder. Maka smiled, gently petting his hair to calm him down. Her efforts worked, and with a sigh, Soul was peaceful again.

She looked out the window as Black*Star continued to make a fool out of himself. Dozens of palm trees sprung up from the concrete as the earth titled up towards them. The streets below were buzzing, the ant-like traffic causing an unmistakable drone that polluted the air and provided a soundtrack for the people around them.

She'd never been to California before. She didn't think any of them had. She had heard stories of places in California that piqued her interest: the California Science Center, the Getty Museum, the Griffith Observatory. However tempting it was to see them, she knew this was no time to go sight-seeing. This was strictly a mission and a mission only, not an all-expenses free-paid trip to Hawaii courtesy of Shibusen.

It was only a week ago when the seven of them were called to the Death Room. None of them knew the reason for being summoned, but there Shinigami-sama was, waiting for them with the patience of an enlightened monk.

"Hi-hiiii!" he greeted cheerfully with his disproportionately large hands. "How are ya? How's your weekend so far? Got any parties planned, hmmm?"

No one responded.

Unfazed by this, Shinigami-sama went on. "I suppose you're all wondering why I asked you to come to school on a Saturday morning?"

"Because we all owe you Saturday school?" Soul yawned loudly, having had to be literally dragged out of bed by Maka.

"Noooo!" Shinigami-sama chimed. "Although I'm sure you owe Dr. Stein one, if I'm not mistaken?"

Soul grumbled, not wanting to be reminded.

"Anyway," Shinigami-sama continued, "the reason I called you all here is because of a certain mission I believe only you can handle." He turned to Spirit, standing behind him with his hands lazily in his pockets. "Spirit, if you please?"

Spirit nodded and hopped behind the mirror, pulling out a large easel with a drawing pad on it. Setting it down in front of the children, Shinigami-sama stepped aside to give Spirit his spotlight. He dusted his jacket and cleared his throat before speaking, flipping open the pad. The words "OPERATION: TRANSFER" stared back at them in big bold letters.

"Your mission," Spirit began, "is a dangerous and risky one, although not for reasons you might be familiar with. Recently we've been receiving distress calls from California concerning a string of murders targeting high school students, both male and female."

He turned another page, revealing a crude drawing of a school. "The school in particular is known as James Fouster High School. Up until now, Fouster's been considered a relatively safe place. The murders only started a few months ago under supernatural circumstances. Upon investigation of the site and the victims' bodies, we've come to the conclusion that a kishin is responsible. The problem is, according to witness accounts, the kishin is taking the form of someone from the school; most likely, a student.

"Your mission . . . " Spirit turned the page, this time revealing an even cruder drawing of Maka surrounded by hearts and cherry blossoms. His face paled, and he jumped in front of the drawing to conceal it. "S-Sorry!" The bumbling redhead flipped desperately through the drawing pad to find the correct illustration, but Maka, far past annoyed by this point, had seen quite enough of her father's drawings.

Finally, he found the right one, stepping aside. "Your mission!" He gestured his arm to a drawing of California, a skull sticker marking which city the school was located. "Next Sunday, you'll all be flying to California to attend Fouster High School. The move won't be permanent, but you'll be attending the school until you find and defeat the kishin. You've already been enrolled, but your last names have been slightly altered to keep your true identities secret. Liz, Tsubaki, your ages have been altered as well, so you'll be in the same grade as the others. You'll all have at least one class together so you'll be able to exchange information on the kishin as the school day goes on. Any questions?"

There was a brief silence among the group before Black*Star spoke up. "What about that dangerous and risky thing you mentioned? Sounds pretty simple to me."

Spirit started to speak, but Shinigami-sama put a heavy hand on his shoulder. "I believe I should be the one to explain, Spirit." At this command, Spirit left to store the easel away as the death god spoke to his students. "Kids, how many of you have been to a normal public school? Outside of Death City?"

Only Soul raised his hand.

"I see . . . " Shinigami-sama observed, rubbing the chin on his mask. "So I assume you're familiar with what to expect in Fouster?"

"Pretty much."

"Mmhmm. Then this only applies to the rest of you." Shinigami-sama's arms disappeared inside his cloak. "You are all very lucky to be going to a school like Shibusen. There are no jocks, no cliques, posers and fakes never last more than the first quarter, and aside from the occasional bully, popularity contests are almost nonexistent."

The meisters and weapons all nodded in agreement, but only Soul, Liz and Patty understood him.

"You've never heard those terms until now, have you?" Shinigami-sama asked, his tone turning serious.

Those left over shuffled awkwardly, embarrassed.

"You'll become familiar with them when you start attending Fouster. Public schools are much different than the schools in Death City. Here, one is judged by their academic performance and their endurance in the battlefield. In public schools, one is judged by looks alone. Sadly, the only way one can handle the pressure of public high schools is through past experience or particularly excellent street smarts." He nodded towards Liz and Patty.

"As you may have guessed, we do not live in a normal town. We are taught about meisters, weapons, and kishin from a very young age. That being said, nobody in Fouster will know what a kishin is. In this mission, the key is hiding in plain sight. You are not to discuss affiliations with Shibusen or your weapon or meisterhood outside of your group. You do not discuss your true intentions, and above all, keep it on the down-low.

"As I said earlier, those with prior public school experience or a certain amount of street smarts may not have such a hard time during this mission. Those of you with neither, prepare to be shocked by what you see. Those of you popular here might not be so popular at Fouster. Some of you may be more popular than others, for reasons you wouldn't expect. You might even start to hear stories about yourselves you know aren't true. But don't let all these problems get in the way of your mission. Remember: you are undercover as Shibusen students. You may stay there for a week. You may stay there for a month. Even so, you must stay strong as a team and focus on the goal. Don't let gossip and other minor problems get to you. The innocent lives of students are at stake. You must be strong, all of you, if you want to save Fouster from the kishin."

The three teams shifted nervously, exchanging worrisome glances with each other.

"Now," Shinigami-sama announced, "who wants California roooolls?"

"Attention passengers. You have now arrived at LAX."

"Yah-hoo!" Black*Star eagerly cheered, scrambling out of his seat to use the toilet after hours of waiting.

"Please remain seated until the plane has come to a complete -"

"SON OF A BITCH!" Black*Star hollered, having to be restrained again by Tsubaki before authorities could be called.

"Disneylaaand!" Patty cheered enthusiastically, clapping her hands to her own imaginary beat. "Disneyland, Disneyland, Disneyland, Disneyland, Disneyland!"

Liz groaned, having dealt with Patty's exuberant cheering of "Disneyland" for the past week. "For the last time, Patty, we are not going to Disneyland."

Kid sighed, having had enough of Patty's insistence as well. "Where on earth did she get the idea we were going to Disneyland?"

"Gee, I don't know," Liz said, grinding her teeth. "Maybe it was after the meeting with your dad when you said 'Hey, isn't Disneyland in CALIFORNIA'?"

"Disneylaaaand!" Patty giggled, clapping again.

The other two shared a groan.

Maka put a placeholder in her book and tucked it under her arm, using the other to shake Soul from his nap. "Soul. Soul, wake up."

Soul's eyes tightened, then fluttered open as he let out a tired moan. He looked up at Maka, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. She smiled sweetly at him, the sun behind her forming a halo around her head, and he returned a toothy smirk. "We're here?"

"Just landed," she whispered back.

"Cool," he sighed, rubbing his eye as he sat up in his seat.

Maka rested her book on her lap, bringing a thoughtful finger to her lip as her friend got up to stretch. Simultaneously, everyone else in the plane got up to take their bags from the overhead storage. "Hey Soul?"

"Hmm?" Soul glanced down at her, scratching his messy hair.

Maka stood up from her seat, hugging her book to her chest. "About the mission . . ."

Soul allowed his arm to drop to the side, shaking off his weariness. "What about it? You scared or something?"

"No." She drummed her fingers against the hardcover of her book, a little embarrassed to ask. "I was just wondering, with you having been to public school before . . . do you think I'll make it?"

Soul brows perked up in surprise at her simple question. After a few seconds, he chuckled softly, patting his meister's arm reassuringly.

"You won't last a day."