Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.

A/N: This is the first fan fiction I've published. Maybe if you guys enjoy it I'll think about doing more?

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Deep crimson eyes with the faintest of laugh lines gazed back at him from the mirror. Soul Eater Evans shrugged at his reflection. The Death Scythe was late but in no hurry as he scrubbed his sharp teeth clean with a red toothbrush. He found himself reminiscing about his start at Shibusen Academy. More than a decade had passed since that teenager strolled through the halls towards his first class. A smirk twitched against his lips. These new students, these children, were going to meet their lifelong friends today. They'd meet rivals. They were about to begin a journey into self-discovery and maturity that no one could prepare them for. They'd be petrified, searching the halls for a friendly face. A weapon to train, a meister to help them succeed. He rinsed his mouth. Certainly Soul wouldn't want to miss being witness to another new generation.

He double checked his look in the mirror outside the hallway to the front door. He straightened his black tie, the center knot crested with the Shinigami skull that marked his master, Death. A red, silk dress shirt covered the scar on his chest from when he'd nearly died as a kid, protecting Maka Albarn, his best friend. The meister who had made everything possible. Dark blue, almost black, jeans sat on his hips, refusing to be too formal. Bending over, he laced up his combat boots. The left shoe had his patch against the top, over his toes. The right was plain. He grinned, knowing he'd get a mouthful from the death god. Soul'd insist it was to help the god's therapy but knew somewhere within him, he enjoyed making him twitch.

He grabbed his pinstriped jacket and motorcycle helmet and locked the door to his home.

Soul arrived at the DWMA around the same time students were showing up. He heard the murmurs as he parked his motorcycle. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and began to stroll up the stairs to the main building, allowing the whispers and eyes to follow him.

"That's Death Scythe-sama," he heard an upper classman telling a group of first years, pointing in his direction. The weapon flashed them a deadly smile and continued on his way.

Several of the older kids stopped to bow their heads as he passed. Soul Eater Evans felt undeniably cool until someone tackled him from behind.

"YAHOOOOOO SOUUULLL," an electric blue haired man, around his same age, yelled into his ears as he stumbled to keep his balance. "You were supposed to be here two hours ago, maaannn you're gonna get it."

"Yo professor numbskull, shouldn't you be helping your wife?" He growled, knocking his friend off.

BlackStar blinked unintelligibly before spinning around to face the woman lagging behind on the stairs. Her long black hair was wrapped into a messy bun behind her head and her indigo eyes held determination as she hobbled up the stairs, clutching her very round, large, and pregnant belly. "No, I'm fine," Tsubaki said, clearly winded. "BlackStar wanted to see you Soul-kun, I can manage on my own."

The Death Scythe snorted in response. "You're going to explode any minute." BlackStar chewed on his lip, looking nervously at his wife before deciding that he should go back and help her up. He took the stairs three at a time to reach her faster and braced her back with a well-muscled arm. "Kidd said you can go on leave whenever you'd like, Tsubaki," Soul continued. "Having twins is going to be one hell of a handful. On top of your annoying husband," he joked. BlackStar glared at his best friend and lifted his middle finger.

It was Tsubaki's turn to glare. "Don't do that in front of the students," she scolded, standing taller. One of her slender hand was placed on her hip, the other was supporting to engorged stomach. Her gaze softened as she responded to Soul, "I love teaching. I cannot imagine sitting at home just waiting for the twins to arrive," she rubbed her belly affectionately. "I want to be here as long as possible." Tsubaki beamed and lifted her palm triumphantly in the air, high-fiving an older student walking by.

"Good morning Tsubaki-Sensei," he called, waving farewell.

Tsubaki turned back to her fellow weapon, glowing, "How could I leave that?"

"Mm," Soul grunted in response, setting his pace to match the couple's as they climbed the stairs. "Better get to the auditorium before Kidd begins. It would look bad if I wasn't at his side."

"Maybe you should have been here on time," BlackStar chirped.

"Heh."

The auditorium was packed with students, nervous first years wringing their hands and upper classmen finding old friends. The odor of sweat and hormones blasted Soul's senses. He subconsciously scowled as he tread to the stage, his two comrades in tow. The sound of voices was a constant thrum, causing the entire room to vibrate slightly. At the stage, seated in the seats meant for faculty were several familiar faces. Franken Stein had barely aged a day since Soul Eater Evans and his crew first met the scientist during their remedial lessons. His stitched together lab coat draped around the back of his rolling chair, clearly he too was experiencing the uncomfortable heat of so many students in one place. The woman next to him had faint lines of gray weaved in her golden hair and a smile plastered on her face. Marie was holding hands tenderly with Professor Stein, whispering something into his ears as he spun the screw in his cranium.

Tsubaki lowered herself into the chair next to Marie, panting and leaning her head back. BlackStar stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders and making faces at Soul when his wife couldn't see. The Death Scythe couldn't help himself but to grin stupidly.

His back turned away from his friends as he planted himself beside the podium at the front of the stage. He tossed his white hair out of his eyes and let out a sigh. "Stand up straight," demanded a voice coming up beside him.

"Ugh, right," Soul responded, looking at the culprit as he lifted his shoulders.

A tall, lean Shinigami in full robes and mask stood beside him, seemingly appearing out of nowhere to reach the podium. "Nice shoes," he hissed, clearly offended. Soul peaked at the death god from the corner of his eye, and saw a visible shake run through the robes.

"You're getting better every year, Kidd," he taunted, smirking.

"Don't tempt me," Death the Kid hissed at his weapon before flipping the microphone on. The moment the electric buzz ran through the auditorium, the crowd silenced. "Welcome Shibusen students and faculty," he announced.

"Good morning," echoed back to him.

The grim reaper began his annual speech, "More than a decade ago I decided to join my father's academy even though I was already a reaper. This was the best decision I ever made," the students would have missed the fondness in Kidd's voice, the faculty, however, did not and several beamed at the Shinigami. "Joining DWMA I became stronger than I ever thought possible through the connections—friendships," he corrected, "That I made. I implore each and every one of you to strive for the best in all of your classes. Take your missions seriously. Study… And party." He paused for affect. "But more than anything, I ask you to trust the bonds you feel. These friendships you will carry through the rest of your careers, no, for the rest of your lives. Your professors and I are here to aid in every single way that we can. I now leave the floor to our Nurse Leon to discuss whatever boring things it is that she discusses." Kidd stepped down from the podium to stand beside his weapon.

A woman then went up to the microphone, angrily sticking her tongue out at the Shinigami. She adjusted her hat, shaped curiously like the chameleon that was climbing her arm and began, "I'd like to discuss a few different things with you before you're dismissed for class. First, I remind all students that two star level meisters have a special section of the library donated to us by former Death Scythe Spirit Albarn this year. Please take advantage of such a lovely gift as it will be invaluable to you as you continue to rank forward. I'd also like to refresh everyone on our campus of our code of conduct and rules," the witch continued on, gently stroking the small lizard on her shoulder. By this point Soul was looking up at the ceiling, bored. Rules were necessary as he'd learned the hard way as a Spartoi member but he'd heard the academy's enough for a life time.

Approximately thirty minutes later the students were dismissed, the auditorium drained of bodies, and the professors back in their classes, beginning the semester's first lessons. "You good if I go walk around a bit?" Soul asked, turning to Kidd who was taking the mask off his face. He had matured beautifully, the wrinkles at the corners of his lips and golden eyes perfectly symmetrical. His skin was papery white but he didn't appear fragile. On the contrary, the Shinigami was sculpted and chiseled, just by looking at his face.

"Of course, Soul," Kidd said, nodding once.

The weapon peered into classrooms as he wandered the halls, he caught Professor Stein beginning to excitedly discuss dissection with his new students, several of which were turning green around the gills. Tsubaki was chattering about becoming the full potential of your weapon, leaning against her desk for support but very exuberant and flamboyant as she lectured.

He knew he was getting close as he heard the shrieks of laughter floating down the halls, several cheers and applauds following.

He let his boots carry him to the enchanting classroom, his teeth poking against his bottom lip as he smiled.

Inside the classroom, students were leaning forward in their seats, several were awestruck as they watched their three-star meister Professor. The teacher was standing on top of her desk, feet planted as she expertly swung a costume scythe. Soul leaned against the door frame, watching.

"A sound soul dwells within a sound body and a sound mind," she explained, swinging the scythe in an arc around her tall, thin frame. The trench coat she wore billowed behind her with every gesture, dancing to her own personal symphony. "If you ever expect to be successful, you must remember those words." She repeated them again and her class echoed her.

"I've seen and done many things," the meister told them, twirling the scythe between her fingers. "The Death Scythe you see standing beside our beloved Headmaster, I trained him. He was a Death Scythe before we had even graduated the academy. We were able to take down the Kishin Asura. Witches fell before us, and evil cracked with our might." Her emerald eyes flashed brilliantly as she recalled her story. She shook her head as if it was nothing, her dirty blonde ponytail gracefully falling back into place. "I see before me teams that could surpass every member of Spartoi. The only thing that is going to stop them," she flipped the scythe in her hand, pointing the blade toward her students, "is themselves. But I have confidence that you will not fail me or this academy. I know that you will not fail yourselves. Today I'd like us to begin our lesson by practicing Soul Resonance with our partners. This is the key to the most powerful moves you'll be able to do."

The woman hopped on the desk, hands on her hips and surveyed the eyes watching her. "Okay, does anyone have any questions?"

A young male lifted his hand. "Professor Evans?" he called, and Maka's gaze lifted to him.

"Yes Loke?"

"Could you give us a demonstration?"

Maka frowned slightly. "Soul—Death Scythe, is probably busy. I don't want to disrupt any important matters that the headmaster and my partner are involved in."

Soul Eater Evans cleared his throat and strolled into the room, grinning impishly as Maka drew in a sharp inhale, startled that he'd been behind her so long. "My wife is so uncool," he said loudly, rolling his eyes. He smirked at the boy named Loke. "You're a torch weapon?" The teen nodded. "Cool. I look forward to seeing you and your meister advance."

He turned to face Maka Evans and felt himself overwhelmed by emotions. He remembered when he first met his meister, when he'd played the piano for her. He remembered late nights studying. He remembered throwing himself in front of her, nearly dying. Back away! I'll never let you touch my meister! The weapon stared into his wife's emerald eyes. You're stubborn and reckless! All you do for fun is read, so you're boring. And you have fat ankles. He inhaled sharply. I'm prepared to die for my Meister! After all cool men don't cheat on their partners, do they? Death, it'd been so long since he'd said those things.

He found himself taking a step closer to his meister, backing her against her desk.

Flashback

"Damnit Maka Albarn! You giant moron! You're so uncool, why are you making me say this?" teenaged Soul yelled, stepping into his partner's face, pushing her away from the stove that she'd been stirring sauce on.

Her green eyes flashed poisonously. "I want to know why you're being such a jerk! She seems like a nice girl and you're going to break her heart! Tell me what's on your mind, Soul," she was practically screaming at him, so close to his face that the smell of her strawberry lip gloss entered his nostrils.

"You're my meister. You're my best friend. The best person I've ever met in my entire life. You want to know why I'm not going out on that date? You want to know why I'm standing her up? Because I love you! You reckless, flat chested, bookworm, idiot!" He threw his arms up in the air and proceeded to slam a fist into the counter next to the stove. "I just became a Death Scythe, one of the youngest ever, you've done everything you promised! But it's not enough. I can't just let this end. I CAN'T Maka! You hate men. You don't trust them. Your stupid unreliable father ruined you! And it's not fair! I love you," he said it again, weakly, staring at a speck on sauce that had splashed against the marble.

Suddenly, he was tasting that strawberry lip gloss. Maka dropped the spatula, red liquid staining the kitchen floor, forgotten. She wrapped her skinny arms around his neck and Soul Evans held her against him as their lips crashed together, terrified of ever letting her go, crushing her to his chest. Their pasta sauce burned. They ordered pizza to be delivered instead. That night Soul sat on the couch, flipping through TV channels as Maka laid in his lap, reading a novel. That night ended in a good night kiss, blushing, and an awkward exchange of words.

The years passed, they graduated top of their class, hand in hand, exchanging a kiss and sacred vows.

End Flashback

Soul stared into Maka's soul, feeling her hot breath against him as she awkwardly tried to push him away, complaining about not being professional or something. Lord, I still love her as much as ever. No, that's not true. I love her more. Suddenly he lifted Professor Evans off the ground and twirled her in the air, planting his lips against hers, right where they had always belonged. The students around them catcalled and hooted. None of it mattered to the Death Scythe. "I missed waking up beside you this morning," he whispered as he pulled away.

Maka was bright crimson as she looked up at him. "I told you last night I was leaving early to prepare for class today."

"I still missed you."

Soul straightened and turned back to face the class. "Anyway, Loke. You want a demonstration of our Soul Resonance? You've got it… Everyone outside. Someone get Kidd to witness and referee. Loke, go find Professor Stein and Marie. We're going to dual. Three star meister against three star meister." He grinned wickedly, lacing his fingers through his wife's as the students cheered.

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A/N

Well... That's it. The first fan fiction I've published. Let me know what you think. :3