Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater

Wired
by. Poisoned Scarlett

She smiled at him from outside of the bus, standing with good posture and her hands clasped behind her back as she typically did. All of the meister's stood at a respectable distance from one another, watching their weapons go with mixed emotions.

"How unfortunate..." Stein murmured to himself. He saw Professor Stein stuff his pack of cigarettes in his lab coats pocket with a slight frown and Spirit stand in the middle of the aisle, demanding attention.

"You! Octopus head! Pay attention!"

"Shut up, old man, I'm listening!" Soul snapped back.

Spirit growled but stuck his nose in the air and decided to ignore him. Not that Soul had a problem with that: the less Spirit spent dogging him, the better. That was the only downside to this field trip, Spirit's constant presence, but aside from that it was pretty much guaranteed to be a 'life changing experience'.

Or so Maka had said in a last ditch effort to get him to attend. Truthfully, he hadn't wanted to attend because he'd much rather spend his time plucking on his guitar than doing up downs for some uptight coach whenever he breathed wrong…

"Oh, no!" Tsubaki squeaked, horrified as she dug deeper through her carry-on luggage.

"What's wrong, Tsubaki?" Liz asked.

Tsubaki held out a picture of her grinning meister, his signature scribbled near the bottom of the picture. There was a dozen of images of him inside of her luggage; all with different poses of Black Star and all autographed by the mischievous ninja himself.

"At least we know you won't be missing him too much." Liz teased.

Harvar cracked a smirk as the others laughed. Tsubaki eventually joined in, zipping up her bag and forgiving her egocentric meister by peering out the window and waving happily at him; something he returned with equal, if not more, enthusiasm.

Soul also glanced out the window, his grin quickly disappearing at the sight of Maka's troubled eyes. She must have caught his frown because she quickly pasted on a bright smile. But he could not be fooled. Her smiles always reached her eyes and this one didn't even come close.

Before he could lower the window to bring a smile to her face with one of his jokes, the bus lurched forward.

"You alright there, Soul?" Liz asked with a raised brow, having seen the way he craned his neck in order to catch one last glimpse of his meister; the concerned crease of his brow not missed, either.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?" He deflected, staring out the window. "I'd be more worried about you. Gonna' miss all those bubbles baths at Kid's place?"

Liz sighed, forlorn. "You bet'cha."

Harvar gave him a measured look before looking out the window again.

Soul sunk back into the seats, pulling on his headphones to lose himself in music until they arrived to their destination.

Day 0

It could've been worse.

The place they arrived to gave the eerie image of a prison, with the way the walls were painted grim colors of gray and cracking red. He could see Death's Emblem on the far right wall, rusted and looking moments from falling off the wall to squash an unsuspecting victim. The walls towered high, watch-towers even higher, allowing him no way to ascertain what laid on the other side.

They were around two hours away from Death City; in a rural town that was mainly used for training now. Lord Death had converted a ghost town into a gigantic training ground, Soul discovered with awe when he walked through the ominous, steel-enforced, doors of the facility. He wasn't comforted by the guards that stood watch on either side of the door, either. They looked less friendly and more ready to beat him into submission if he so much as stepped out of line.

"It's gonna' be brutal." Harvar observed, staring off to what appeared to be a stretch of dead land. The entire area seemed to be deserted, save for them. The wind kicked up dust; howling in their ears as they drank in what will be their home for the next thirty days.

Soul ignored Spirit's obnoxious shouts for order to stand beside Harvar, also observing the area that he presumed their merciless training will take place in. "You can say that again – looks like we're gonna' be worked like dogs here. Bet Stein'll have a fucking field day tomorrow..." He muttered, annoyed.

"Don't fall behind." Harvar stated, flatly.

"As if." Soul smirked, turning back to follow the other students to their rooms. "I should be telling you that."

"We'll see who should be telling who soon." Harvar placidly said, following.

Day 1

"WAKE THE HELL UP, YOU MAGGOTS!"

"AH!" Soul shot up in bed with his scythe arm flaying around, falling over the side in a tangle of limbs. There was the rip of cloth and he winced, knowing he'd accidentally torn his sheets. There was the rush of footsteps as everyone was startled awake, stumbling out of their cots sleepily. "What the fuck?" Soul grunted, rubbing his sore elbow. He stood up, glancing at his clock and nearly having a heart-attack. "It's four in the fucking morning!"

"And is that problem, princess?"

Soul slowly turned to face Sid Barrett, dressed down in army-printed khakis and a white muscle shirt. His blue skin stood starkly, as did his dead eyes. "…Uh, Sid? I thought you were at school—!"

"That's sir, to you, Eater." Sid sneered. His expression eased into something sheepish right after. "And I'm filling in for your instructor for a few days. Just arrived an hour ago, actually."

Soul scoffed, scratching his head lazily. He ignored the wide-eyes that watched the scene unfold and crossed his arms over his chest skeptically. "Alright, then, sir. Why are we up at four in the morning?"

Sid's friendly face shifted into something sinister. Soul's smirk faltered. "That would be, Eater, because training starts at four am sharp every day. No exceptions. And since you seem to think you deserve some kind of special service, why don't you lead us today in our march?"

"…March?"

"I'm sorry, I should say run ." Sid corrected himself, with a smug grin. "All five miles of it."

Soul didn't even have time to cuss because Sid tossed him plain green khakis with a matching button up. He tossed him a pair of black boots and a pair of socks and thumbed behind him without missing a beat.

"This will be what you will be wearing for the next thirty days. Nothing else unless told otherwise, do you understand?" Sid boomed. All motion froze, everyone hanging onto Sid's every word. "You will obey the rules, which are posted up on the outside of your dorms, and anyone who disobeys them will have to answer to me, do you understand?" Sid growled when he received silence. "I said, do you understand?"

A collective "yes, sir!" was heard.

Soul narrowed his eyes in disdain, saying nothing.

"Insubordination…" Sid began, staring at Soul, "..will not be tolerated. I am not your friend here, guys." Sid turned on his heel, walking down the wood-paneled floor slowly. "You will address me as 'sir' or 'sir'." He turned to face them again. "Nothing else. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," was heard again.

"I said, understood?" Sid stared hard at Soul.

"…Yes, sir." Soul bitterly said.

"Good. We're late. That's another mile as punishment." Sid shouted, exiting the dorms. "I want you all to line up outside in five minutes! Any stragglers will be forced to compensate. And, I'll tell you now, you do not wanna' compensate. It ain't pretty." And he shut the doors with a resounding slam, leaving the weapons to wonder what the hell they just got themselves into.

Day 4

"ONE! TWO! THREE! ONE! TWO! THREE!" Spirit barked at the top of his lungs, watching his batch of students start on their fifth set of push ups with pained faces. "C'mon, you're acting like a bunch of pussies! TRY HARDER! ONE! TWO! THREE!"

"My arms feel like they're gonna' fall off!" One kid wheezed.

"That means you're doing it right!" Spirit cheered, then growled: "NOW TRY HARDER!"

"Fuck…" Soul breathed under his breath, his arms shaking as he pushed himself off the floor again. Sweat ran down his neck in streams, the hot Nevada sun beating down on his body mercilessly. He had already discarded his short-sleeved shirt for his white undershirt, which was already soaked through with sweat, but even that was a futile effort.

He still felt as if he'd just been deposited into an oven.

"You hanging in there, Soul?" Harvar grunted, pushing himself off the floor again. He and Soul went back down together, pushing themselves up just as two more fell victim to the heat and sucked in dust with every gasp. Spirit barked something harsh at them but both weapons ignored him.

"Just dandy." Soul grunted out. "Couldn't be better."

"Good." Harvar sucked in a breath and finished the final set, rolling on his side to sit up. Soul followed in suit, hanging his head back and breathing in deep gulps of air. "'Cause this is nothing compared to what they're going to have us do tomorrow."

"God, kill me now." Soul groaned, just as Stein returned from setting the girls on their own training regiment.

"Everyone! Get up! Two laps around the field!" Stein blew on his whistle, standing under an alcove to shade himself from the intense heat. "Now, before I decide to open you up at night!" That got them hurrying to the track instantly.

"God isn't here right now, Eater." Harvar grinned, sardonically. He wiped sweat off his forehead. The muscles in his arm rippled with every clench of his fists as he prepared for the next level of hell. "We left him behind in Death City."

"Funny, É'clair."

"I wasn't trying to be funny."

Soul rolled his eyes and began his two laps.

Day 7

A whole week.

A whole week of relentless, militarized, training.

A whole week of crummy meals consisting of sludge not even the toughest man could stomach.

A whole week of restless nights, sore muscles, and an exhaustion one couldn't sweat out.

And a whole week of Maka's absence.

Soul stared at the dark ceiling as his fellow comrades slept painfully all around him. He could hear every hiss of pain when they moved, every groan as their tried muscles howled in agony. He could sympathize: he better be ripped by the end of this month or he'll be one pissed off scythe.

Soul winced as he rolled on his side, finally managing to relax the tension in his muscles.

He closed his eyes.

Soon this would all be over, he told himself, soon he'll be back home.

Back to Maka.

Back to normal.

Day 10

"Pass me that bottle!" Soul called to Harvar, who tossed him the water bottle without batting an eye. Soul downed the entire thing, tossing it aside when finished. "Shit, we're gonna' need more of those today. It's hotter than usual."

"Girls seem to be doing alright." Harvar noted, able to see their blurred forms in the distance.

Soul smirked. "Now isn't the time to be checking out girls, É'clair."

"I wasn't." Harvar dryly replied. "Ox specifically told me to keep an eye on Jackie."

"Lemme' guess, cause Kim told him to do it?"

"Likely." Harvar said, noncommittally. "Regardless, I'm keeping an eye on her."

"Or," Soul drawled, rolling his shoulder nonchalantly. The bone cracked and he sighed in satisfaction. "Could it be you're just worried she'll break a nail?" He sneered.

Harvar was unfazed by his snide comment. "I wouldn't be the one making smart comments, Eater." He stood, cracking his own neck. He pushed his sleek sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, not bothering at all to turn and acknowledge him. "I'm not the one in denial of what I want."

Soul narrowed his eyes, a scowl starting to downturn his lips. "What're you talking about?"

For the first time since they arrived, Harvar smirked. "I don't know, what am I talking about? I seem to recall you once calling Maka a, what was it, 'queen'? Very sweet..." Harvar sneered. "For a weapon to call their Meister."

"I was kidding around."

"Could have fooled me."

Soul set his teeth but refrained from speaking as Harvar walked away, back to the group of weapons who had just finished their five laps around the enormous track. He watched him toss them all water bottles, kneel down to shake a dehydrated weapon from his exhausted stupor.

"Damn it." Soul snarled under his breath. "No one fuckin' asked you, Harvar." And he threw himself forward, deciding it wouldn't be cool to run away with his tail between his legs.

After all, Harvar was his rival because Maka had beef with Ox.

And Maka would chop him on the head if she heard that he'd been smacked around by Ox's weapon.

Day 13

"Oh, my god. My butt better look fucking fantastic after this!" Liz muttered darkly, sitting down beside of Soul. Patty took seat on the other side of him, happily munching on a green apple. Harvar coolly sat across from him and Tsubaki came trotting right behind him, taking seat beside him and sending Soul and the sisters a warm smile of greeting.

"Whatever, I just wanna' get this over with." Soul shrugged, chugging down a carton of milk. "Want that?" He asked, pointing at Liz's own carton.

Liz rolled her eyes and tossed him the carton. "Take it."

"Neh, neh! Look, sissy, I made a giraffe with my pudding!" Patty laughed joyously, gesturing to her plate excitedly.

"Patty, that's not pudding." Tsubaki told her, gently. "That's…meatloaf."

Soul stared at the sludge Tsubaki called 'meatloaf'. "Doesn't look like meatloaf to me…it looks like the same stuff 'Star made while trying to bake a cake."

Tsubaki laughed nervously at that.

"Are you actually eating it?" Liz shrieked at Harvar, who swallowed the sludge with that same blank look on his face. Soul gagged a little when he spooned more of the nauseating food into his mouth.

"It isn't so bad once you get over how it looks."

"Dude, it'll always be bad no matter what you say." Soul shook his head, astounded. "I resign my title of gut of steel to you. You gotta' have a titanium stomach to be able to eat that and not puke right afterward."

"Didn't Black Star have that title?" Liz wondered aloud.

"Took it from 'em when he couldn't finish a bucket of hot wings." Soul grinned, toothily.

"Wait. How many buckets did you guys have?"

"Three."

Patty laughed loudly and Tsubaki sighed.

Liz, however, looked horrified.

"Do you know how many calories are in just one of those things?"

"Do you know how many brain cells you kill with the amount of hairspray you use?"

Liz glared. "Fuck you, Soul."

"You'd be lucky if you can even get me to look at you." Soul sneered back. Liz slammed her hands on the table and stood up, on the verge of punching that nasty smirk right off his face, but Patty stood up and latched onto her arm; holding her back with worried blue eyes.

"Lemme' at him! I don't care what Maka says – he's dead meat when I get my hands on him!" Liz snarled, clawing at him.

Soul merely watched, amused, as Liz tried to claw his face off.

Harvar laughed softly as he ate, making sure not to look at either of the sisters Tsubaki tried to calm Liz down with soothing words to no avail. The administrators who patrolled the scene squinted their eyes at their table, beginning to head over to see what all the ruckus was about.

Soul's amusement soon faltered, as his smirk became a slight frown. He usually got along quite well with Liz. She was one of the few who had a good music taste, much like Kilik, and he hardly ever called her out on her shallow ways. He always ignored them, opting to view the bigger picture, but today her prissy attitude was just grating on the last shred of patience he had.

"Hang in there, Eater." Harvar stood up, his tray clean of any food. "Only two more weeks."

"Yeah. Two weeks." Soul stuffed his hands in his pockets, turning to head back to his cot for the evening.

He ignored Liz's threats to come back or be shot.

He needed to think.

Day 16

Quite simply, he was puzzled.

His irritability was off the charts; he was lucky he had enough restraint in him to not snap and slice Spirit's head off when he shouted at him earlier that day for his poor form. Liz was giving him the silent treatment, not that he particularly cared, and Tsubaki was trying to be a good friend and coax him into telling her what the problem was.

Only Harvar seemed to understand his inner turmoil.

Soul sat on the edge of his cot, rummaging through his backpack. He found an empty pack of gum and some unfinished homework for Stein's class. He pushed that away and dug deeper, finding his wallet amongst the trash of his backpack.

He rose a brow when he found twenty bucks and his student ID. He'd been looking for that last month, when he and Maka had gone to the movies with Black Star and Tsubaki. They would've cut the price in half if they'd both shown their student ID's…

But his eyes rested on the image inside of his wallet.

It had been taken during a trip to the mall. He could almost smell the freshly baked bread that wafted from the bakery down the street. He could almost hear the nonsensical chatter and laughter from the fellow civilians, almost feel the brush of Maka's hand against his arm as they both walked to the entrance of the mall…

He snapped his wallet shut.

He dropped it into his backpack, zipping it back up.

He kicked it under his cot, swiftly moving to lie back down again.

It would be a humid night tonight: the thin sheet that served as his only source of warmth, which was ripped slightly from his own negligence, was unneeded.

Soul just stared at the ceiling that did not dance with the flames of the kerosene lamps that hung outside each lamppost near their apartment. He just stared at a black, black pit of nothing.

He closed his eyes, more than a little disheartened he was unable to hear the soft breaths of his meister as she slept in the other room.

Then he opened them again and realized this was going to be harder than he thought.

Day 19

He was losing his mind.

How could he be thinking about Maka at a time like this?

"Get your head outta' the clouds, Eater!" Spirit barked, stomping a foot on his back. Soul slammed onto the floor, grinding his teeth to keep himself from saying something nasty to Spirit. Soul learned well: he had gone off on the old man when he intentionally tripped him while he ran and that only got him extra laps plus an additional fifty up downs for disrespecting a teacher.

"Yes, sir." Soul snarled, resuming his morning workout. This was hell – how did Maka talk him into this? He could be at home, watching television or picking out a song on his guitar. She would walk in a few hours later, sit on his bed and they would absently talk and talk until she ended up falling asleep on his bed to the soft sounds of his guitar.

He would put the guitar away, tug the sheets from under her and toss them over her. Then he would head down to the kitchen and cook themselves dinner and Maka would wake only minutes after he left, rubbing her eyes out and yawning.

And he would tease her for her bed hair and she would send him a halfhearted glare and tell him he was burning dinner. Then they'd argue about whose fault it was that dinner burned and Blair would prance right in, clad in the skimpiest outfit she could wear without getting arrested, and Soul would scramble for safety from the cat woman's bulging breasts. That would, in turn, fail and Maka would become consumed with jealousy when his nose bled and knock him out with a book—!

Wait a second. Soul realized, halting midway a push up. That's not right. Maka isn't jealous – no… wait, she is. He sat down in a daze, stretching his legs out in front of him and reaching forward with the rest. She's jealous. Of Blair? No… no, she wouldn't hit me if she was jealous of Blair. She hits me because….oh.

Funny how it took the hell needing to be beat out of him and more than two weeks without her constant presence for him to realize why she became so bothered when Blair harassed him.

He'd teased her about it before but she'd always denied it; going as far as knocking him out with a book sometimes.

He had unknowingly been hitting the nail on the head the entire time.

She was jealous – very jealous.

Suddenly, his day looked up.

He didn't even send Spirit a dirty look when he blew the whistle in his ear.

Day 22

"Hey." Soul called out to Harvar, before he left the locker room. The other guys messed around in the showers – taking jabs at each other and guffawing when someone slipped on soap. Soul wrapped his towel around his waist as Harvar placed his glasses over his eyes carefully. "I get what you were trying to say now."

"Do you?" Harvar replied, apathetically. But his slight smile told him he hadn't brushed him off. "Maybe you'll stop publicly humiliating yourself now every time you say something brash to Maka."

"Whoa, let's not get ahead of ourselves now." Soul smirked.

"You're right – once an idiot, always an idiot."

"Piss off, Harvar." Soul scoffed, walking over to the locker assigned to him. He tossed his towel on the bench behind him, reaching inside to take out a clean pair of boxers. "Was it you who created Ox into a stalker, too, then?"

"Are you implying you're a stalker now, Soul?" A smile ghosted the spear weapon.

"No, I'm just sayin'." Soul said. "Ox doesn't leave Kim alone. You've seen it – you're with him all the time."

"Ox has come to terms with his feelings for Kim." Harvar stated, defending his meister. "So there's no point in hiding them or denying them. You can only go forward, and Ox saw this. Whether Kim reciprocates these emotions is on her but Ox knows who he wants to spend the rest of his life with. That's fine with me."

Soul's brows rose. "That bad, huh?"

Harvar shrugged. "He can barely ask her out on a date, proposing should be the last thing on his mind…"

"He needs to take it cool." Soul drawled, towel drying his hair. "Like me."

"And yet it's that very same ideal you live by that ends up hurting your partner in the end." Harvar mused, closing his locker door. Soul dropped the towel from his head, silently watching him pick up his backpack and head out the locker room.

Soul looked at himself in the mirror, the sharp teeth that poked out of his mouth.

"I think they're cool!" Maka smiled, brightly.

His abnormal white hair.

"It's different." Maka said, carefully. She ran her finger over a strand, hastily pressing her hands by her sides when she realized what she was doing. "I like it! And the way it spikes up is pretty neat, too! You hardly use gel, huh?"

His crimson eyes.

She studied his face for a moment, squinting. Then she straightened and smiled, expression arranging itself into something close to awe. "Your eyes are naturally red, huh? Wow… they're so pretty, Soul!"

Then his eyes flashed to his gym clothes, which he used whenever they trained in the afternoon. The sun had started to get too hot for them to use their uniform, so Stein had suggested they use the gym clothes he'd asked them to pack beforehand.

"I think you look cute in them!" Maka laughed, tugging on his shirt and giggling when he grunted in reply.

Soul slammed his locker door shut. He slipped on his shirt, buckled his pants, and slung his own pack over his shoulder. The rowdy laughter and talk that came within the showers was beginning to migrate into the locker room, his cue to leave before things got too rough for his liking.

Maka fully accepted him for who he was. Yet, in an effort to retain his detached cool, he'd called her an assortment of names that had to no doubt hurt her feelings after a while. If anyone should be calling names, it should be her, because there was simply so much to pick on him with it wasn't even funny.

Maybe he needed to take a break from his cool sometimes, Soul sighed.

Day 25

"Listen up! This examination will conclude your basic training regiment!" Stein boomed, studying his exhausted students. His hands in his lab coats pockets, he continued: "These past few weeks, you all have been worked like dogs. When you return to Shibusen, we expect you all to apply what you have learned here to your daily lives. You now know the meaning of discipline, and if you're up for the challenge, you can sign up for Boot Camp during the summer for a whole three months of this." He grinned at the horror that flashed in his students eyes. "But by the end of those three months, you would no longer need to take Physical Education and you would have completed a whole year of combat training and strategy. That means a home period – going home early."

It was a tempting offer, Soul had to admit.

Maka qualified for a home period but she stayed because he couldn't leave. She had taken a bunch of extra courses during the summer last year and all her hard work paid off, as now she had the option of going home a whole three hours early.

But three months without his meister… the thought actually caused discomfort to grip his heart. He could handle a month, sure, even if she swamped his thoughts constantly, but three months? That was pushing it.

"And good news for those dedicated weapons – Boot Camp is also open for Meister's, although their training regiment is a lot tougher than yours. But the outcome is the same: you'll be stronger, faster, and much more adept at handling dangerous situations than those who don't take the course. "

He instantly perked up at this – that meant Maka could come! Sure, it would be hell, he'd be sure to tell her that before they signed up, but that meant he would still be in contact with his Meister. If Boot Camp functioned the same way it did in this short training session, that meant that Soul could meet up with Maka during their free hours as well as breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They'd sleep in different cabins but that didn't mean they couldn't spend an hour or two just hanging out by the field.

"Now..." Stein began, dragging his attention back to him. "Who's ready to face the Obstacle Course From Hell? I designed it myself."

Soul's glee fell flat to the ground as he stared at the horror-inducing obstacle course the insane professor had set up. He saw tires set up in an seemingly endless row that led to the track, which held a vertical latter; a network of wires Soul dreaded to crawl through; a balancing beam which gave way to a double beam and a ford; a sloping wall with rope followed by a horizontal beam, and he could see Spirit and a few other teachers in the distance, no doubt ready to beat their asses into the ground to prevent them from advancing to the next level. The next level consisted of an assault wall and a pit, which concluded their examination, as far as Soul could see.

"We'll be going in alphabetical order." Stein informed, taking out his roster and a timer. "Soul Eater! You're up!"

"Aw, fuck me."

"I'd rather not." Stein drawled, starting the timer. Soul snorted. "I'd get going if I were you, by the way. You have exactly ten minutes to finish the course or fail starting… ten seconds ago."

"Hey, that's not fair! You started the timer early!"

"You have nine minutes and forty six seconds left to go. I'd start running now."

Soul swore but sprinted toward the tires as if Maka were hot on his heels with her book held high and ready to plunge him into agony.

Day 28

He passed the exam from hell, cursing Stein the entire way in the most creative ways he could. Maka would be proud of the amount of imaginative situations he put him through in his head, if she were into that sort of vulgarity.

He had managed to reach the end, after taking a page from Maka's book and punching Spirit in the face with all the force he could muster. It had given him enough leverage to bypass him and reach the track, where he'd run straight across to reach the finish line just as Stein stopped the time.

Needless to say, the next few days were spent nursing sore muscles and, for some, mourning their weakness.

Soul stepped forward in a line bursting with excited talk and laughter, handing a plain bookmark to the Death Scythe who just finished taking a picture with a group of giggling girls. As promised, they had arrived to the convention center early that morning to find it crowded with people from all the over world who came to greet famous meisters and, particularly, Deathscythe's.

"And to who might this be for?" Gale Piercing, the Deathscythe who currently held the most prestige, asked as he uncapped a marker with his teeth.

"Maka Albarn." Soul said, earning a raised brow from him.

"Girlfriend?"

"Meister."

"Ah, so you're a weapon, huh?" He said, scribbling his autograph on the bookmark. "How many soul's have you collected so far?"

"Ninety eight. For the second time."

"Second?" His eyes widened in surprise. "What happened the first time?"

"Ate a cats soul instead." Soul grumbled. "She had an excess amount of magical power, so we mistook her for a witch."

"Ah, I understand. But that's impressive, for a kid. How old were you when you first collected 100 kishin souls?"

"Fourteen, she was thirteen. Takes us around a year of taking on missions nonstop to collect all 100 souls again."

Gale whistled low. His grin returned. "A word of advice: one way you can tell if it's a witch or not is by reading her wavelength – they have a distinct wavelength, your meister should be able to sense it if her Soul Perception is developed enough. But I recommend doing it my way: insult Head Witch Maaba – witches get hella angry when you do that, but other magical creatures don't give a damn."

Soul grinned. "Cool, I'll be sure to use that when we fight a witch."

"Well, best of luck to you, kid." He smiled. "Maybe one day you'll be up here signing autographs, too."

"Oh, I'll be way past your level by the time my Meister gets through with me." Soul smirked, taking the bookmark back from him and turning heel. "She plans on having me surpass you and Death's current weapon, who just so happens to be her father." Soul thumbed beside him, to the redhaired man who flirted with a few girls by the snack bar. "That idiot over there."

"Shouldn't be too hard." Gale Piercing drawled, watching the young weapon leave for a moment before turning to another admirer. "I can't wait, kid."

"Yeah, me either. " Soul breathed to himself, smiling the entire way to the outside of the convention center; the bookmark tucked safely into the pocket of his jacket.

Day 30

He was going home.

He was finally going home!

Soul tightened his grip in his pack, pushing past some students to get in line for boarding the bus. Professor Stein stood by the sidelines, smoking his last cigarette for the evening leisurely. The line began to move once Stein stubbed his smoke on his foot and entered. Soul filed in neatly with the rest, taking the window seat as another student sat beside him.

Tsubaki and Liz sat somewhere ahead; Patty directly across from them, paired with Jackie, who laughed at something Liz said.

Harvar sat across from Soul, taking a window seat as well. He only received a simple nod from the spear weapon, which he returned with equal apathy. There really wasn't much else to say. The rest of the ride back to Death City remained mainly uneventful, with Spirit barking out orders to shut up when the noise level got too high.

His headphones blocked most of the noise from the bus but he did not drift off to sleep this time. Instead, he idly watched acres and acres of desert race past him in a varying shade of gold and brown. He spent some time elbowing the snoring kid beside him to shut up and spent some of it browsing through his iPod, lingering on several photos he had of his meister.

"We'll be arriving in ten minutes, people!" Spirit yelled, holding onto the headrest as the bus bumped and swayed with the rocky road. "Get your stuff ready! I wanna' get outta' here as badly as you do and I don't want to waste extra time waiting on you all to gather your things!"

Soul slipped his iPod back into his backpack after taking one last look at Maka's bright smile, stuffing his headphones into the bag as well.

He would be seeing her soon, anyway.

When the bus eased to a stop by the curb, his eyes immediately sought for Maka. He grinned when he caught her standing by a lamppost, tugging on her pigtail as she did when she was nervous. She was still in her school uniform, wearing the black tights she'd grown accustomed to wearing when she finally had enough of having her skirt flip up and flash people. He remembered he'd teased her, saying there wasn't much to show, and he'd received a hard chop on the head for that. He had been lying but coming clean about that would only earn him another Maka Chop...

He impatiently waited for the kid next to him to gather his things, Harvar already ways down the narrow aisle.

"Move it!" Soul snapped when his patience drained, squeezing past the boy and hurrying down the aisle. He hopped off the bus, looking down the way he knew his meister was. The sight that greeted him was Spirit crushing her, Maka's embarrassed, "Shut up, shut up!" causing a wider grin to break out on his face.

"Yeah, stupid Deathscythe, you're making me look uncool by making her look uncool!" He made himself known, slowing his speedy gait to his usual lazy slouch.

When she looked up, her entire face lit up.

"Soul!" She laughed, clasping her hands in front of her as if to restrain herself from leaping on him. He was mildly disappointed she didn't.

"What's up, Maka?" He grinned, heading over to her. But when he got a good look at her, some of his good mood dwindled. She looked as if she had gotten in a fight – the bruises looked recent.

"How did the trip go? Did you have fun?" She asked, eagerly.

"Great! It was awesome!" Soul smiled, lopsidedly. He kicked Spirit out of his way, taking some relish in being able to hurt him without any major consequences. "The training was a total drag but the convention was cool!"

"Really?" She smiled. "You better tell me everything that happened when we get home, Soul!"

"Yeah – all the other Deathscythes we met were so cool!" He exclaimed, watching her eyes brighten even more. "I even got you an autograph from the top Deathscythe in the world right now!"

She gasped. "Gale Piercing?" She asked, hopeful.

"Who else?" He chuckled at her squeal of delight. But his eyes hardened when he got a good look at her busted lip and bandaged cheek. "What happened to your face…"

"Oh, this?" Maka touched her lip, avoiding his eyes. "I, um, I got in a fight with Ox at school…"

His brows shot up. "You got in a fight at school?"

She immediately grew defensive. "Yes, I did! Why, is that weird?"

He shook his head, astounded by his meister's rebellion. A month without him as she was already getting into fights? Another reason not to leave her alone for too long – it seemed he kept her violent tendencies under control while she kept his insanity in check. "You're always telling me to stay out of trouble. And you've never gotten in a fight at school before unless the teacher asked for a demonstration..."

"Yeah, well…" She pouted, pink dusting her cheeks. Her eyes hardened suddenly and the cute look disappeared and replaced with something smug, a smirk dashing her lips. "I got fed up with him so I showed him who's boss!"

Soul glanced at Ox coldly. "Did you win?"

"Of course I did!" Maka huffed.

"Good enough." He said, with a warmer smile. He'd deal with Ox later.

He shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder, watching his meister fidget with the hem of her skirt this time. She was deliberating something, Soul knew that much. And what she was deliberating came in the form of her bringing him into a hug that could crush bones. Being part weapon had it's perks. He stumbled back, chuckling when he felt her nuzzle his chest with a mumble of his name.

She could be so cute sometimes. The thought wasn't brushed off this time, instead he let his affection for his meister show as he ruffled her hair out of her pigtails fondly. He was aware of a few stares in their direction, specifically from a jealous Spirit and a curious Tsubaki, but he had already decided he'd cut his cool act around her – be them in public or not.

"Missed me?" He teased, patting her head when he heard a faint sniffle.

She nuzzled her cheek into his chest again and mumbled, loud enough for only him to hear: "You have no idea, Soul…"

Soul ignored Harvar's amused look when he and Ox walked past them, opting instead for holding the girl who'd managed to get him to break his cool streak.

A/N: I believe there were a couple of reviewers who wanted me to continue Strung Out, but it was Winter-Wonderlands who really motivated me to write it. I hope you all enjoyed it :D

Scarlett.