A/N: This story will be largely inspired by "Budding Trees" by Nahko and Medicine for the People, which I do not own. I also do not own Soul Eater or any references contained in this story beyond the words arranged in this particular order.

Hawaii was very, very sticky.

That was Soul's first impression as he exited the Hilo airport. It wasn't even as hot as Death City, but the air felt heavy and thick, like he could chew it. He was tempted to try. It smelled of salt and fire and flowers, which was an odd combination, but not unpleasant.

"Who's ready to get lei'd?" Black Star said as he threw an arm around Soul's shoulders.

Maka studied nearby signs, her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out where they should go next. "We're not here for fun," she said. "Get your head in the game."

"At least it's nice," Tsubaki offered, looking around at the nearby plumeria trees with a contented sigh. "Much better than Siberia in midwinter."

"This way," Maka said, pointing them toward signs for the nearby taxi and driver pickup area.

"One sec," Black Star said as he raced off somewhere. Maka rolled her eyes.

He returned bearing purple and white leis, which he draped over all of them in turn.

"There," he said as he slipped the last one onto the protesting meister. "Even Maka gets lei'd in Hawaii."

She punched him in the arm, but after Black Star had turned his attentions elsewhere, Soul watched her smile softly and touch the delicate blossoms around her neck. Even if his meister was tough as godsdamned nails, she still loved flowers.

They found the driver Kid had arranged for them and loaded their stuff into the car. Tsubaki and Maka stared happily out the window as they wound past farms and houses until they reached the coastline. Soul had to admit that the verdant treescape and bright blue ocean were pretty nice to look at.

"The other side of the island is completely different," Maka said, reading from her travel guide. "It's all rocky and dry. They get most of the rain on this side, which is why everything is so lush."

"Who's a lush?" Black Star said.

Maka kicked the back of his seat.

Their motel wasn't exactly the Four Seasons, but it was clean and quiet with a path down to a nearby beach, and Soul couldn't complain about that. He and Star shoved their leis at Tsubaki and tore immediately for the water, Maka's irritated protests clattering to the ground behind them.

"Guess I'll get us checked in, then," she grumbled.

By the time the boys trudged back inside, grinning and covered in golden sand, everything was all set. Black Star went to give Tsubaki a sloppy hug and she held him at arm's length, her palm on his forehead.

Maka doled out keys and allowed them five minutes to settle before she herded them all into the bathroom in her and Soul's room and called Kid on the mirror.

The Shinigami was in mid-reply to someone they couldn't see when he answered the call.

"Just keep them out! I can't handle either of them right now," he said before turning his gold eyes on the group. "I see you're all still intact."

"Yep," Maka chirped. "Landed safe and sound."

"Trouble in Death City, Kid?" Soul asked.

"Guh," he responded, allowing his stiff exterior to crack as he flung up his hands. He'd been trying to keep himself poised and professional lately to quell the mutterings that he was too young to take over his father's position as the new Grim Reaper, as if there were any alternative. "Liz and Patty are driving me to distraction with their incessant whining. I keep telling them that this is work, not play."

"Work," Black Star said as he shook sand out of his hair. "Right."

"But that's beside the point. I trust you've made contact with Pele's people?"

"Yes," Tsubaki nodded. "We spoke with them before we left. Meeting's still on."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm glad. Pele is a powerful ally and I would hate to offend her. Maka, Soul, it's very important that you take your position as DWMA's emissaries seriously. The local meisters and weapons have been having a hell of a time with that band of pre-kishins, and this is an excellent opportunity to show the other gods that we still turn out the best."

Soul gave a mocking salute and winced when Maka stomped on his bare foot with her boot.

"You can count on us," she said.

Kid put his hands together in prayer and let a sliver of nerves peek through his facade. "Please, please, please be cool."

"Cool's my middle name," Soul said.

"Your middle name is Lawrence," Maka said. He bared his teeth at her.

"The meeting with the goddess is in -" Kid checked his watch, then his other watch "- one hour, give or take. Be sure you remember your manners. Black Star, Tsubaki, please check in with the local meisters."

"Got it," the quartet replied.

"Okay. Kid out." He paused. "Be cool." He snapped his fingers and the mirror faded back to normal.

Black Star and Tsubaki went to get cleaned up while Maka shoved Soul toward the shower. By the time he was done, she was already dressed to impress in her best meister uniform, including her favorite long-tailed coat.

"You're going to die in that thing," he said. "The humidity here will eat you alive."

"I'll be fine." She snapped her fingers. "Come on. Come on come on come on. We can't be late."

"Loosen your pigtails, Jesus. Out in a minute."

It took considerably more than a minute for him to get his hair the way he liked it, but they somehow managed to make it outside just as their driver pulled up to meet them. The drive to Pele's home was short — they'd stayed nearby intentionally. Soul whistled as they slowed to a stop.

The manor spread over the forest floor, most of the rooms left open and styled with furnishings that could withstand heavy rainfall. A waterfall tumbled behind it, the occasional rainbow appearing when the mist hit one of the sunbeams filtered through the canopy. The trees above them dripped with blooms of every color, and when the wind moved them, a few would flutter down. One lonely little flower landed on Soul's shoulder and he took it between his fingers, rolling it to and fro.

"Normally she stays in her volcanic residence, but it's easier to accept mortal visitors here," Maka said, always a fount of information. "Plus, her visiting sister is a sea goddess, so."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, handing her the flower. She took it with a smile and put it behind her ear.

"Think you can keep your smartass tongue in your mouth for a few minutes?"

He feigned offense. "You wound me."

"Seriously, Soul. This is important. Pele is proud and quick to anger."

"Sounds like someone I know," he said, training his reddish eyes on her stubborn face. "Yes, I'll be good."

She nodded and they walked forward together. A friendly attendant met them near the entryway.

"Welcome. Our Lady Pele wishes to meet you in the outdoor temple. Please follow me."

They raised their eyebrows at one another and did so, walking along a stream flowing by the villa until they reached an open-air temple in front of the waterfall. A wave of heat washed over them, along with the scent of rock and fire, pumped from a nearby vent. Sweat beaded on Soul's forehead as he looked up.

Two Polynesian women sat on the rocks above, their legs folded underneath them. Though they were both ageless, the one seated on the lower rock had an older, wiser look to her, as if she contained depth he couldn't hope to fathom. She gave off an air of calm, practiced power, her long hair cascading in gentle waves down her back. A crown of shell and feathers twined across her brow. This had to be Nāmaka, the goddess of the sea.

The other woman, sitting higher up, could be none other than Pele. A smile graced her full mouth, filled with passion that could turn from love to fury in an instant. Her curled hair stood out all around her head, ruby red flowers woven into its length. Her movements were fluid, easy. Confidence and protectiveness radiated from every inch of her. Soul could tell — he'd seen the same bravery behind Maka's eyes more times than he could count.

"They're beautiful," Maka whispered.

"Yeah," he said.

She blinked and came to herself, dipping into a low bow. Soul followed suit.

"Rise," Pele said, her smile in her voice. "Let me see what the Shinigami of Death City has sent to my door."

"Lady Pele, Lady Nāmaka," Maka said. "We are honored. The new Lord Death sends his compliments. I am Maka Albarn, Class 3 Scythemeister."

"I am Soul Eater, the Last Death Scythe," Soul echoed.

Pele trained her eyes on each of them in turn. While she inspected Soul, he felt his blood twine through his veins like lava through earth. He had no doubt he could burst into flame under her gaze.

"Your souls are strong, young warriors. You fight well together."

"Yes," they agreed.

The goddess sat back with her hands splayed, one leg draped over the rock in front of her. "You've come to help rid my island of the evil that has made it home?"

They nodded. Maka said, "While we're here, we will cause no avoidable harm. We'll remove nothing that isn't ours to take. We offer you our breath and our service, and that of our companions."

"I accept," the goddess said, sounding pleased. "These pre-kishin, they upset my island and harm my people. I will be glad to see them destroyed."

"Us too," Soul said. The song of the hunt started to hum in his bones.

Pele leaned forward over them. "And please," she said, amusement threading her words. "Enjoy your time here. My meisters and weapons will be glad to host you."

"Thank you," they said together.

"Give your new Death God my thanks. You may go."

With another bow, Soul and Maka turned to follow the attendant back out front. Maka fanned her face with her hands and Soul said, "See? Told you that you'd be too hot."

When they were out of earshot, Pele leaned toward Nāmaka. "Such sweet children. Do you hear it? The music his soul plays for hers?"

Nāmaka inclined her head. "I hear, just as I see the way her soul always reaches to find his hand."

Pele's laugh curled from her like smoke from flame. "I like them. Shall we give them a gift?"

"Go gentle, sister," Nāmaka said, letting her coolness calm Pele's heat. "Your fire can consume, just as my waves can crush."

"There's no need for excess," the volcano goddess said. "They're already standing at the top of the cliff. They only need a little push."

Pele whistled low to the wind. Nāmaka whispered to the earth below, not to be outdone. A touch of nature's own course. A tiny suggestion. A truth as yet uncovered.

The warm breeze caressed Soul's neck like a breath and he turned to find nothing but air. A cool drop fell from the trees above to hit Maka's forehead, dripping down her face. She wiped it away with a shiver.

"Weird," they said together, and kept walking.

The sister goddesses smiled to their retreating backs.