Loud footsteps penetrated the peace that settled on Soul's shoulders, causing the boy to wince. Kid was still present at his side, eyes blank as his head rested on the wall. Sitting up Soul glanced around to determine where the noise was coming from. He wished he had a clock. Perhaps, only perhaps, he could convince someone to let him have a watch. Even the most creative mind would have trouble denying that request.

The owner of the footsteps came closer and soon became identifiable. Soul blinked once as Marie's eyes met his and her frown blossomed into a soft smile that was reflected in her eyes. Soul often wondered why she wanted this job. He wouldn't want it. But someone had to do it he supposed. Someone like Marie. Full of light and a giddy happiness. He didn't want to be around when it finally disappeared from her eyes. He lazily saluted, not shifting from his position.

"Morning Soul. I assume the vase was broken before you arrived?" Her words were sweet. Soul wondered if she was mocking him, insinuating he was to blame. He wasn't. Did he look as if he had the energy to smash objects that didn't belong to him? He harboured no ill intent to the inanimate glass shards scattered on the floor. If he wanted to hurt something, wanted to break something, he'd target something living. Preferably himself, but no one had to know that?

"You'd be wrong. An hour or so ago Maka came along and kicked it down. Pretty sure she had one other victim. She was mad. Wonder why. Don't think she noticed me. Quiet as a lamb," Marie raised an eye at Soul's broken and soft-spoken explanation. The air around him was slow, steadily pacing behind the rest of the world.

"Oh. I should add that to her file. Thank you Soul. By the way, how long have you and Kid been there. Poor boy looks ready to snap by his uncomfortable position. If you plan to stay on the floor any longer you may want to move him. And breakfast officially starts in ten minutes. Group therapy straight after and the a free day if you don't count private sessions," Soul vaguely noted that Marie's entire body was coated in yellow and black. Odd choice of colours, "Tata then." She waved and disappeared, shoes softly kneading into the carpets with a heavy thud.

Groaning the white haired boy knocked Kids side, allowing him to fall into Soul where his eyelids fluttered before golden irises peeked into view. He thought back to when Kid had joined him, kneeling next to him in the dark. Soul wasn't in a pleasant state of mind. Was he ever? Probably not, no. But having someone in more despair than him, someone who hid the same insecurities, having someone he could trust was nice.

The pair wordlessly stood, one tripping over his own feet, clearly disoriented. Soul made the effort to help him to the corridor that housed the oak hall doors but dropped him off with the Thompson siblings, Liz retaliating with a disdainful glare laced with mistrust. Soul couldn't care less what the older girl thought of him, wasn't that how it was these days? She adopted his best friend only friend into her family and became as protective of him as she did Patty. If anyone cared less for themselves, Soul would have to say it was Liz. Her paranoia wasn't aimed towards herself, rather at her sister's well-being and welfare, something Soul held a great disdain for.

It wasn't his business however, so with long fingers curled over the fabric of his blanket, Soul trekked back to his room. On his short journey, he had the unfortunate luck of skidding to a halt as Maka came sprinting down the hallway. Green eyes lighting up in panic she'd tripped, steel grip locking onto Soul's shoulder. Her breath was uneven, unnoticeable. Maybe she ran a lot. She seemed as if all she could ever do was run. Soul admired that. He also admired the way she stood straight, her hair still not tied but now brushed, no shoes adorning her feet. Her left hand was balled into a fist so tight that her fingernails were beginning to mark, bruise and tear her skin.

She threw a look over her shoulder before she was sprinting again, Soul left in a daze. He probably should have questioned her, who knew who she was running from? Maybe she was just running from herself. She liked dong that.

Soul sped up, reaching his door and twisting the knob shut as Marie bounded past. He wanted to feel the soft embrace of his bed but chose to pick up the tinted paper on his desk.

Dear Soul,

Your brother has graciously decided to take a day off to visit you due to your father and I being fairly busy with business meetings. Of course, this does not mean we care for you any less. We both wish you well and pray for the day you can return to society. When your brother visits we'll be sending along a few gifts that we feel necessary for you to have. On top of that we thought it would be beneficial to send along a copy of Wes's most recent recital-

A sudden coughing fit shook Soul, who felt as if someone was choking him. He swallowed desperately, dropping the letter back onto his desk. He gasped as a sharp pang hit his stomach, almost collapsing and tears blurred his vision. His head began to swim and he reached out to gather his thoughts in a futile attempt of regaining his posture. He heaved, falling against his bed and curling up. He still couldn't catch his breath, the air stuck in his throat. He wanted to claw it out, wanted to slice his windpipe open to release whatever was stuck there, making him feel like this. A faint breath of laughter escaped him, even more tears building up, obscuring his vision completely, he finally found he could stand, stumbling to his feet and reach for something, anything, to dry his face on.

He stood and recollected his thoughts, allowing himself to calm down. His mind drifted to the letter his parents had sent. He'd read the rest of it later but he was glad they were sending him Wes's recital. Soul couldn't think of the last time he'd actually seen one, been there to witness it and support his brother. It was nice they were being considerate and thoughtful for once. Soul couldn't remember the last time he himself had performed, could barely recall any of the long and numerous pieces he'd memorised during his younger years.

He ran a tired hand through his unkempt hair, rubbing at his eyes once last time. The boy shrugged on a warmer sweater, unwilling to lug his blanket around with him all day and slipped on a pair of worn trainers. Checking he had properly calmed down, he left his room, gently pulling the door to a close and resting his head against it. His eyes were dulled, unfocused as he pulled himself up and forced himself to bite his cheek and hold his head high.

Not a long chapter I know. It's also a couple days late. I wrote this while having a mild headache as well so I can't say anything about the quality. It is, however, the Easter holidays so no. 1 -

HAPPY EASTER

and no. 2, the next update might be next week Fridaybecause I kinda want to re-evaluate my life and de-stress during the holiday. which isn't me saying writing is stressful, just everything I have to do on top of just writing. Editing, polishing, reading-through, updating on a deadline although if I don't it doesn't make a difference because I've never given anyone a reason to believe I would. Mostly I want to indulge in a new habit I've picked up on.
Also why I am extending the writing time is because I, uh, started writing the ending chapters. That's why this one isn't very long. I sat down to write it and an idea for a chapter popped into my head so I wrote that instead ^^. Right, I'm gonna go and sleep, hope you enjoyed!

Please review ^^