A/N: Well, this wraps things up! A huge shout out to Explorer08 for being awesome (:

Soul Eater Angst Week #7 - "Things Left Unsaid" - If You're Reading This by Tim McGraw

Death the Kid prided himself on being a well balanced, level-headed individual. The Shinigami knew that he still held as much emotion within him as any other young man his age, but was able to distance himself away from the human fallacy more than his mortal counterparts. It was for this reason that he had volunteered to be the one to clean out Maka's desk at the DWMA. He had asked Soul if the scythe would like to sort through his original meister's work station, but with a clenched jaw and hooded eyes, the death weapon declined. Kid then gathered the rest of Spartoi to announce that he himself would box up Maka's belongings and give them to Soul when he asked for them.

When the halls had emptied for the last time for the semester, Kid made his way down to the classroom where Maka had student-taught an introductory class on Soul Theory. He didn't know how much stuff she would have, so he brought a large plastic tote box to house her things until Soul was ready to have them back. When he opened the door, he was assaulted by the scents and bright colors of dozens of flowers. In hindsight, he shouldn't have been so surprised that Maka's students had left small gifts of their own, as they would not have access to the forest where their professor's final resting place was. She was well liked - loved, even - by her pupils.

As he approached her desk, he noticed small notes scattered over the top of her work space. He didn't mean to intrude, but he also couldn't help but read a few of the shorter ones as he gathered them all together.

We'll miss you, Professor Albarn

Goodbye, Ms. Albarn.

Use your Grigori wings to fly high!

Kid noticed an empty cardboard box sitting in a corner of the room and brought it over to put the notes in. He then placed the box on a student desk and began to bring the flowers over to the same spot. Some were dead; clearly they had been left undisturbed as a favor to both whoever left them and also to Maka's memory. Kid decided he would bring the flowers and notes to Maka's tree once he was finished with her desk.

Once all the tribute items were cleared from the desk, Kid began his task of boxing up what was left. For as disorganized as her and Soul's apartment was, her desk was nowhere near as disorderly. Maka took her work seriously, and it showed. Kid pushed her chair back, then first boxed up her more office-y supplies: stapler, pens, pencils, and the like. Her calendar was neatly lined out, and it fit neatly into the box with all the other things she would no longer need.

Next came her more personal things. Kid was almost in awe at all the pictures she had equally displayed and tucked away in her desk drawers. Pictures of the members of Spartoi, of her mentors, of a person the Shinigami could only guess was Maka's mother by the same green of the woman's eyes. As he packed the pictures in the plastic box, Kid couldn't help but smile at all the photos Maka had hidden of her partner. From photos of everyday life with the weapon to special ones taken of the two of them by friends, Maka certainly had quite the collection. The new Lord Death delicately placed the pictures in the box where they would not get bent.

Kid placed all her notes and small trinkets around the photos, then gave each drawer one last look to make sure he hadn't missed anything. He closed each drawer with a kind of finality, then he hefted the full plastic box up to rest on the top of her desk. When the bottom of the box landed with a heavy thud, a stray pen rolled across the desk and clattered to the floor, skittering under the desk where Maka's chair would normally be. Kid crouched to pick it up, compressing himself a little to fit under the desk. When he leaned back to raise back to his standing position, a glimpse of yellow underneath the desk caught his attention.

I didn't peg Maka as the type to store her gum for later, Kid cringed. However, upon a longer look, he realized it was actually a folded piece of paper taped to the underside of her desk. He peeled it off and stood, unfolding the unmarked yellow legal paper. Correction: not unlabeled, Kid thought as he spread out the paper on top of the desk beside the box of Maka's belongings.

"Things To Tell Soul Before He Gets Death Scythe Assignment," the Shinigami read aloud as he smoothed out the creases in the page. He wondered if Maka had even remembered she had this; Soul had been a death scythe for a while, but was never assigned anywhere but in Kid's own company. Once Spirit had resigned when he felt the new Lord Death had adjusted well, Soul had taken up Maka's father's position.

Kid, his curiosity piqued, started reading through the list, wondering if there were any he could tell Soul himself. He smiled softly at the first few things: "No matter where you go, you'll still be the coolest" and "There will always be a place for you to call home." As the list continued, though, the corners of Kid's lips progressively turned downward. The words became more personal, more intimate.

I hope it's everything you ever dreamed of.

Thanks for being my partner.

I'll miss you.

Kid closed his eyes. He no longer had any curiosity left about Maka's hidden paper, nor did he have any desire to finish reading the things she never told Soul. Solely out of a need to finish what he had started, Kid opened his eyes and stared at the yellow page again. He felt almost sick as he read the final two lines:

I don't want to lose you.

I love you.

The Shinigami tilted his head back, gazing blankly at the wall at the back of the classroom. His level headedness had left him along with his balance, and he sank back into Maka's chair. He knew - he didn't know how, but he knew - with nauseating certainty that scythe technician had not said any of these to her weapon. It might destroy said weapon to know of the feelings his meister held in her heart.

It was that thought that had Death the Kid in a dilemma: do the right thing and give the paper to Soul, or do the best thing and keep it from him? The scythe was still adamant about not taking a new meister, and Kid understood even as he wished Soul would cooperate with another partner. The god of death let go of a sigh, pushing the air through his nostrils as his mouth pursed. He leaned forward, steepling his fingers as he pondered on what he would do.

He folded the note back up and tucked it in his pocket, leaving that decision for when it would actually matter.

Two months later, Death the Kid was ending a conference call (an order of witches based near Seattle were complaining about meister activity) when someone coughed behind him. He didn't need to turn around to know it was Soul; as the weapon's part-time meister, Kid could feel his wavelength easily.

"Hello, Soul," the Shinigami greeted as he turned to face his company. The scythe mumbled a soft "hey" back, his hands jammed down in the pockets of his slacks.

Kid walked toward the last Death Scythe, his feet clicking across the floor. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

Soul kept his eyes down as he said, "I think I'd like to take over Maka's class."

That was not what the new Lord Death had expected to hear.

"Okay," Kid replied, smoothing over his shock, "Are you sure? No one is - "

"I want to," Soul cut in, finally looking up at the death god.

Kid looked over his companion, noticing how he finally seemed to be caring about himself. His face was shaven and his usually chaotic white hair was tamed underneath a slim black band. The weapon had lost weight, but today he made an effort to look neat despite the extra space in his clothes.

"...and I think I'm ready to get Maka's stuff," Soul continued, his voice low and gruff. Kid nodded once, and went behind the ornate armchair that stood proud near the center of the room. He pushed his hands through an illusion that Kim Diehl had set up for him and retrieved the box. He brought it out and handed it to Soul. "That was everything in her desk," Kid told him as the weapon firmly gripped the sides of the box.

Maka's note seemed to burn a hole in his coat, reminding the Shinigami that his words weren't exactly true. He stuck his hand down in the pocket where the yellow paper had been since he found it, and he toyed with the edge. He still wasn't sure what to do. As he waffled, Soul made his way to the hallway that would take him to the outside.

"Wait," Kid called, and the death weapon turned around. Soul raised an eyebrow as his boss struggled for words.

"I - " Kid began, pinching Maka's paper between his fingers as he went to draw it out of his pocket. But his motion halted, and Kid swallowed as he resumed, "I wish you luck, Soul." The scythe nodded and returned on his path back home.

When he was sure Soul was gone, Kid took Maka's note out of his jacket. He couldn't give it to her weapon, not when he was finally moving on. With a heavy sigh, Kid walked over to a desk of his own and pulled out a box of matches.

It was better if some things remained left unsaid.