It's been a while since I've attempted a multi-chapter story for a multitude of reasons, but I've decided I'll give it another whirl. For those of you that know me from *'Kill Me' or *'Rippin' and Ridin'', I'm sorry to say that both stories are currently discontinued and will most likely stay that way for quite some time (*Former usernames: monicadayne87, thegirlwithgoldeneyes). I hope that you can find solace in this new fic as my writing style has improved a lot from the last time that I posted anything. I hope that you'll enjoy my newest fic.

Some may argue that the best plans are those that are left loose as to accommodate what has yet to be predicted, while some may argue that the best plans are those that are wound tightly and woven intricately down to the very fibers of their existence. If he's certain about anything, it's that the preference for planning all comes down to circumstance. The current circumstances are as such: she is missing and there doesn't seem to be a clue to be found about her disappearance.

His hands have run through his hair more times than he can count, and he chose to ignore the fact that it was coming out in white gobs whenever he twisted his fingers into his scalp. The area of white surrounding his crimson irises was riddled with red veins. He hadn't slept in two- no, three days now, and his legs had gotten so tired of pacing that he'd collapsed onto his knees and settled for idly rocking some time ago. He was distantly aware of the knocking at his door, but not even his subconscious could be bothered. He did manage a glance upward through strings of ivory when his door was kicked in though, and a blur of blue knelt in front of him with worried eyes.

Words were muttered but he wasn't concerned, his thoughts were on a plane of their own, just circulating around in his skull and confining him to loops. His body was shaken back and forth violently, and it responded by vomiting up the long emptied contents of his stomach, a sickly upheaval of stomach fluid and saliva being awarded to his jeans. He could feel himself being dragged backwards, the ache in his knees becoming apparent once his legs were straightened and his pants wrenched from his body to be replaced with new ones.

He wasn't sure when he had blacked out but once he had awoken he assumed it had been long overdue. His throat was sandpaper, as he discovered once he tried to swallow what little moisture resided in his mouth. His chapped lips parted and a groan escaped him, the brightness of the stark white room enough to make him flinch. "Where is she?" Was his only question, a rasped out, desperate puff of air.

"He's awake!" He heard, a familiar female voice that seemed to be only a few feet away.

And then he was crowded. There was a group of them, and suddenly he was hopeful, but as he scanned them he discovered that she wasn't among them. He silently cursed. He shouldn't be here, he should be searching. He should be helping, saving. "Where is she?" He repeated pitifully, and suddenly a glass of cold milk was thrust at him to drink. He obliged. The creamy substance was like instant relief as it coated his throat.

"Soul. You were so exhausted from sleep loss, dehydration, and malnutrition that you began to hallucinate and eventually passed out." The doctor explained, his darkened, indifferent eyes piercing him even behind the glasses. "Can you tell me what caused this fit of hysteria?"

Soul shot upright, startling the group that had gathered around him. The world around him spun, but he still made a move to jump from the bed and dart out the door. He wasn't quick enough, for the group had him restrained before he could even get a foot on the floor. He growled at them to release him, but to no avail. "She's gone! They took her! I have to find her!"

"Who is gone, Soul?" The woman with long black hair and honest blue eyes asked him, and something in her tone caused him to relax. He ceased his struggling.

"Maka is gone, Tsubaki. Can't you see?" He begged her, hands trembling as he sought for signs of understanding in her expression.

"Who is Maka?"

"Soul, isn't it your turn to cook?" She asked, her arms crossed over her chest and an accusing scowl etched into her face.

He grinned at her, letting his jagged teeth poke from behind pale lips. He took hold of his tie, tightening and straightening it to draw attention to what he was wearing. As her gaze flicked down to quickly take in the sight of him in a burgundy button down tucked into black dress pants and a grey pinstripe waistcoat to compliment the nice black tie, her mouth fell open in her evident confusion. His grin grew into a smirk.

"Hah?" She gestured to his apparel with her hand, the other planting itself on her hip as she scrutinized him.

"Are you going to get ready for dinner or what?" He teased, crossing his arms and plastering a faux scowl over his features. "Jeez." He added for good measure, glancing over his shoulder at her after a good roll of crimson eyes.

Her brows hiked up on her forehead at his sudden shift in moods, but she couldn't help the bright smile that crept across her face as she nodded and raced to her room to get ready. When her door slammed, he dropped his act, running a hand through soft pallid locks and smiling towards her door. Her excitement was the very reason he'd become so fond of surprising her with things like this, and once he'd heard about the new Italian restaurant that just opened up that week he knew he wanted to take her there.

Sure, maybe he would gripe the entire bike ride there about how long it took her to get ready, but he didn't really mind. He gave her plenty of time because he had anticipated how long her routine would take, and they ended up being early for their reservation. And sure, maybe she would get offended and slam some book she had acquired from Death knows where down onto his head as soon as he parked the bike, but he didn't really mind that either. He didn't mind because he had expected no less. He knew her like the back of his hand.

All day they had been searching; all night they had been searching; all week they had been searching, searching, searching. What they found wasn't her, what they found wasn't anything at all. Nothing. An entire living, breathing human being completely disappeared from the surface of the Earth, and it was like they had never been here in the first place.

They were all incredibly discouraged, but they refused to give up. They continued to rotate out in shifts, one search party after the next, never leaving a moment unguarded. Once Soul had elected to search on his own, everyone had become extremely skeptical. Now they did not have only one objective, but two. One, find her. Two, watch him. And he hadn't reported in days, hadn't answered a damn phone call, sent up a flare, anything.

It was Tsubaki that had finally demanded that they go check on him after days of Kid and Black*Star preaching that he needed space. She had finally heard enough, worried enough, to slam her fists on the table and insist without apology that they go to his apartment. It was Black*Star who pounded on the door twice before becoming aggravated at his minion's insolence- or maybe just worried for his friend- and kicked the door completely off its hinges.

It was there that they found Soul, his head drooping with long white bangs angled towards the floor and his hands plastered to his knees. Liz called out to him and received no answer. Black*Star rushed to him, sliding towards him on his knees and grabbing his shoulders. Soul's head had lolled back to stare up at the ceiling and they got a good look at his condition. A gasp was shared between Liz and Tsubaki, while Kid flinched and directed his gaze elsewhere. Even Patty was quiet.

Black*Star's voice was soft as he pleaded, "Soul?" No response. "Soul? Soul?!" And he started to yell, just repeating his name as he shook him violently. His concern was unique and destructive, but ultimately there.

"Black*Star, stop!" Kid had yelled at him, but it had been too late, as Soul was already heaving and belching up a mixture of bile and saliva. Though there wasn't much, it was enough to drip from his mouth in strings and seep through his dark grey jeans. The same jeans he had been wearing three days ago when they last saw him. Had he slept? Had he eaten? It didn't appear so.

Liz and Tsubaki rushed to his side, pulling him backwards so his legs could straighten and his back could rest against the couch. Kid was the one to quickly change his pants after retrieving another pair from Soul's room. He blacked out soon after and they rushed him to the Dispensary.

They had all shared the same feelings of pity, guilt, frustration. Soul was tearing himself to shreds looking for her. His apartment looked as if he had ripped everything apart searching for something, anything. They felt helpless. It had been almost a week and they hadn't found anything, any kind of solace for him or for themselves.

When he awoke he was ready to go again, and they had restrained him in time to keep him in bed. He searched their faces, his gaze resting on the most trustworthy of the lot. Even half dazed and mostly confused he would still latch onto her for her honesty, and the look he gave her as he begged her understanding pierced her very soul. She didn't agree with Stein's orders, none of them had...

But... "Who is Maka?"