"I hate moving…" Soul grumbled, staring out the dirty window with his chin on a fist. Houses leapt by, nothing but cookie-cutters that all seemed to have the same five boring colors set on repeat. Running his free hand through his strictly white hair, he thought, So this is the goddamn neighborhood where I get to live now… Greeeaaaaat… Unfortunately, his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp feeling on his shoulder. "Ow!"

Wearing a smile that was one notch away from smelling faintly of sadism, Maka pulled her fist back from where it had just landed. "C'mon, Soul, we haven't even been here for ten minutes. Why do you have such a problem giving things a chance?" She sighed, golden-brown eyes sliding closed, and leaned back against the car seat, the soft leather scrunching underneath her body. "Then again, I guess I should be glad you don't up and change at a moment's notice. You always have been insensitive and stupid."

"You should be glad I don't sock you…" Soul mumbled under his breath, knowing full well he wouldn't go through with his threat. Unfortunately for him, his sister could be provoked by the dropping of a pin. There had to be something mentally wrong with a girl who could spout bullshit for an eternity, then turn around and punch someone for saying a few measly words. Words were just words, right? Not like they meant something unless one went through with them. Grimacing and lightly tugging at his orange shirt's collar, he moaned, "Are we there yet?"

"Hmph. You're way too impatient, Soul. When we get there, the car'll stop."

Gawd, I wish that damn seatbelt would get a mind of its own and wrap itself around her mouth…

"Now, now, don't worry, we're almost there! Just a little more! I'll betcha can't wait to see the house your daddy got, right, my precious little Maka?"

It was an honest-to-God wonder how Spirit, their father, could say things like that, turn around, and smile at Maka with eyes closed, and yet manage to not hit any pedestrians. The man had to have some of the best luck when it came to driving… And driving only. Soul had to admit, it was slightly unnerving how his father could be so lucky and yet be such a screw-up at the same time. Why couldn't he have a cool dad, one that paid attention to him and didn't spend every waking moment doting upon Maka? "Maka" this, "Maka" that, "Maka" so much it made Soul want to just open the car window and scream as loud as he could. But, alas, doing so would mean receiving another beating from Maka. Life was so unfair…

"Hey, dad," he finally said after moments of debating whether or not to take things any further. "Correct me if I'm mistaken, but I'm still here, right? I am still your son, right?" Fuming, he didn't bother to listen to his father's response, provided one even came. Spirit had a tendency to drown out anything that didn't come from Maka's ridiculously oversized mouth. As he had done so many times in the past, Soul lent himself to daydreaming of creating an eraser that could take Maka's mouth right out of the equation.

Soul must've fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, he was being shook. Mumbling and opening his eyes groggily, he looked around and out the dingy window. A modest-looking blue house with slightly chipped white trim stood outside, looking alien against the bright yellow grass that probably hadn't been watered in a month. Rubbing his eyes softly, Soul blinked again, and, much to his chagrin, nothing changed. He was beginning to really wish he had that magic eraser.

"Hey." Maka shook his shoulder again. "We're here."

"Like I couldn't figure that out for myself…" Soul grumbled under his breath, once again doing everything he could to avoid the cold and cruel fist of his older sister. Unbuckling himself, Soul pushed the car door open and took a cautious step out. He stretched his arms up towards the sky and released a yawn that had probably been building up inside of him for the entire trip. So, this dump was where he was going to be living now…

His yawn lazily transformed into a defeated sigh. So much for giving the place a chance; it didn't even deserve that. If he had the choice, he would run away and not look back, and maybe join the circus. Anything to get away from his overly-annoying dad and abusive sister. But he had little choice; he didn't even have his driver's license yet.

"Soul!" Spirit called, waving from the front porch. "Grab your bag and come on in!"

Not even pretending to be interested, Soul snatched his measly bag from within the car and stepped over grass that crunched – crunched, for God's sake – and hopped up over the front steps, striding into the house. As he glanced around, he couldn't help but be slightly impressed. The place was actually kinda clean. As in, the carpets were freshly vacuumed, there was very little dust on the fixtures, and the handrails were polished and gleaming. A little. Soul was glad there wasn't a casino around, because he would've jumped at the opportunity to bet against his father being a clean person; he also would've lost that bet, and Maka would've reprimanded him in such a way that he could never enjoy food again. Once again, Soul lamented on how unfair life was, and how he wished he could have a different family; any family but his.

After pretending he had to lug his bag upstairs, he wearily tossed the thing against the tiny, twin-sized bed in the room designated for him. Soul wished he could go back to that bet, and bet that only his room, only his room, would be the dirty one in the house. The walls were barren and white, like some snowy tundra, and some of the corners were already starting to lose paint in fun-shaped chips, letting the dreary gray drywall show through. A single light switch was probably meant for the laughable excuse for a light, which was just a lightbulb half-hanging, half-screwed into the ceiling. And matters were only made better when Soul flicked the switch and found out it did diddly-squat. "Shit…" he moaned, pushing his bag off the bed and flopping down on it, careful not to hit his head against the headboard, which was way too close… "This day just keeps getting better and better…" Lying with his hands folded underneath his head, Soul thought about his old life. Old friends, old school, so much familiarity, and in an instant, it was gone. Now he was in a shitty house with no one but his father and Maka. Where was the door, he just wanted to get off…

Dinner wasn't much better. Spirit had decided to try and alleviated the weird feelings his kids had to be having by ordering out. Normally, this wouldn't have been so bad, and Soul and Maka hoped that they would just be able to get a decent pizza and call it a day. All dreams of that were dashed, however, when the woman delivering the pizza turned up at the door in barely a bikini, holding a box with the name "Greased Up Slices" on it. Although, Soul decided, it was kinda nice watching his father get the cold (and a throbbing) shoulder from Maka instead of himself for once.

"B-But, Maka! Look, daddy got some nice pizza for you, and he loves you very much!"

"Geez, we haven't been here for a day and you're already acting like a pervert," Maka growled, her eyebrows twitching whenever she looked at the very suggestive garlic cloves that made up the pizza box's logo. Throughout the rest of the meal, she didn't speak a word, though her eyes did make a lot of transitions between the box and somewhere suspiciously close to her own chest.

Sounds of munching and slurping were the only things that could be heard for the first half of the meal. Soul was uninterested in pretty much everything, Maka was looking between those two spots, and Spirit was watching Maka like a dog that had been shunned by its master. Those big puppy-dog eyes of his were wasted, though, because they elicited no response.

Giving up, Spirit reclined back in his chair, eating on his fourth piece of pizza and desperately looking for something to talk about in order to break the silence. "So, ummm…" He tried his hand at grinning casually, which resulted in him looking somewhat like a mad serial killer. "You two start school up tomorrow, huh?"

"Uh-huh," Soul mumbled, licking at the corners of his mouth to get some stray, rather tasty, cheese. The woman at the door hadn't been dressed like a businesswoman, of course, but Soul couldn't deny that she'd delivered. A voice in the back of his head chuckled and told him that food wasn't the only thing she was good at delivering. And by his father's lack of shame at her appearance, Soul surmised that Spirit had had personal experience. That was one thing he could easily agree with Maka on: Spirit Albarn was the world's biggest pervert.

"So…are you guys excited?" Spirit persisted, not even caring that tiny bits of mushroom and pepperoni were flying free onto the tablecloth. At this pointed, he wanted more than two words from his children. "I mean, a new school, new people… Gotta be exciting, right? …No? Then how about nerve-racking? …Scary? C'mon, you two, you can confide in daddy that you're scared!" He glanced excitedly at Maka and Soul, hoping beyond the pervading hopelessness that either of them would speak. In fact ,even he was beginning to give up hope when Soul closed his eyes and opened his mouth.

"…Your breath smells like shit and anchovies, dad."

Cue Spirit raising his hands to the heavens and yelling, loudly asking why his children had to be so insensitive. It was so melodramatic that whatever appetite remained in Maka and Soul was whisked away, and they both promptly stood up at the same time. Proclaiming to ears that were too busy lamenting to hear them that they were full, both headed up the stairs, jostling for the handrail.

Maka could not look more displeased. Her eyebrows were knitting together and she had a death grip on the railing. "I can't believe that…that whorish delivery girl. Walking around like that, how can someone have no self-respect?"

Soul grinned and his hands dove into his pockets. "Aww, c'mon, Maka. Jealous cuz she had knockers and it'd be a compliment to say you have a doorbell?" He knew before saying so that it would get him a (well-deserved) punch on the shoulder, but the opportunity simply couldn't be passed up. For Soul, teasing his sister was the ultimate highlight of life. But those moments were gone just as suddenly as they were known to arrive, so after his sister made a recovery, Soul was no longer tempted to be giddy. Instead, he was possessed to wander to that shithole some people might call a room, and lay down on a bed that wasn't even long enough to accommodate his legs, let alone his entire body. His mind considered many things, like how he was probably going to have to paint the room and fix the wiring all by himself. Thankfully, he was good that kinda stuff; unlike two certain people who just happened to be in the same house with him.

With a sigh, Soul threw his shirt off and let his head fall down against the pillow, which was actually soft like down. Fuck… he thought. School tomorrow… I ain't gonna know anyone. This officially sucks… Closing his eyes, Soul remembered all the times he thought that closing his eyes would drown out his parent yelling at each other. It had never worked. In accordance, it didn't help to alleviate his anxiety.

"New students? COOOOOL!"

Soul didn't even try to hide his scowl as he stood up in front of the class, hands trying to dig deeper into his pockets. Not like it was his idea to be put up in front of the room like he was on display or anything, but it was the normal fare. However, a kid with spiky blue hair jumping up on his desk was by no means normal.

"Let me be the first to welcome you! I'm the most awesomest, greatest kid at this whole place! You are free to think of me as a God! My name is Black*Star and I'm pleased to meetcha, Soul Albarn!" Soul didn't think his scowl made it to the boy's brain, provided he had one. He stood up there, the most ridiculous grin on his face, and refused to get down until the teacher, Dr. Stein, threatened to fail him. After the painfully embarrassing introduction, Soul played it off casually and sat down in his desk, near the middle of the room. Thankfully, it was in a class that lacked one thing: Maka Albarn. And Soul was pleased by this.

"Okay, if you will look this way, class, I'll get started on today's dissection." The rest of the room seemed to give one collective groan. Soul wasn't too interested in any dissecting, either, but he figured he'd at least behave himself on the first day.

And that was when he learned that nothing ever went his way. Before Soul could even blink, the blue-haired boy, Black*Star, was squatting up on his desk. Grimacing in disgust, Soul bluntly asked, "What the hell are you doing?"

Black*Star gave Soul a hearty thumbs-up. "Welcome to school, dude. I'm the official welcome wagon, and I'm here to tell you that you and I will be the best of friends!" He sighed warmly, almost romantically, which made Soul wish that the desks weren't placed so close together; otherwise, he'd have scooted back 5 or 10 feet to put as much distance between himself and the kid as possible. "Anyway, Soul, now that you've got the jitters outta the way," he said as he gave Soul a one-sided high-five, "I'd like ya to meet someone." He motioned to a boy a few rows over, who looked positively outraged that he was being called.

Jumping over a few kids and their desks, he landed with a grimace. "What do you want?"

"Soul, this is Kidd. He's the son of our school's principal," Black*Star explained, pinching Kidd's cheek. "He's so fun to mess with." Smiling triumphantly, he hopped down from Soul's desk to let the boy have a closer look at the new student.

Kidd took some glances, and then investigated a little more thoroughly, before clutching his head with both his hands. "Y-You…" With a wailing sob, his feet gave out from under him and he sank to Soul's desk, reduced to almost crying on it. "Y-You're the very opposite of symmetrical…! Uneven hair, markings on your jacket, a crooked headband… Why, God, why?"

Feeling quite disturbed by this outburst, Soul looked to Black*Star, who shrugged. "I dunno, either, but he has this thing about symmetry. Freaks him out if things aren't lined up perfectly. You'll get used to it, sure, but it's still so fun to tease him abo-!" Unfortunately, he couldn't finish what he was saying as a rather large book, entitled "The Discerning Scientist's Guide to Animal Anatomy" crashed into the side of his head, sending him sprawling to the floor.

"Now, once Black*Star has finished talking," Dr. Stein said, adjusting his glasses and the odd screw-like thing in his head, "I'd like you to get into your groups and start by cutting off the rat's fur." More groans rose up as the students unwillingly got to their feet and lethargically glided over to their work stations. As the new kid, he had no lab group and felt utterly alone.

That was, until he heard a familiar voice. "Hey, Soul, come join us!" Black*Star was waving from a station with Kidd and a tall, raven-haired girl. Deciding that, although the boy was annoying and Kidd was a grade-A nutcase, he should go over, Soul hopped a few chairs and landed right next to the three. Grinning, Black*Star said, with his arm around the girl, "Soul, I haven't introduced you to my lovely girlfriend, Tsubaki, the luckiest girl in the world for dating the most awesomest person ever!" Soul chuckled as Kidd got to work slicing the fur off, since every cut had to be "perfect and symmetrical, or else it will be an affront to everything decent," and he scanned the room to see what other sort of people were there.

"…Hey, Black*Star." Soul tugged on his arm, pulling the blue-haired boy away from Tsubaki. Soul pointed with a long, spindly finger towards the back corner of the room. "Who's that?" The person in question had pink hair in an odd sort of cut; not quite a bowl cut, but definitely not something that just naturally happened. Whoever it was had on a black robe that covered up everything but the head and hands of this person.

Black*Star peered out and nodded. "That's just Crona," he told Soul. "He's really quiet and awkward, and never really does anything. I heard he just barely has a C in this class (whereas I have an A). Don't worry about him, he won't bother you."

But Soul couldn't stop looking at Crona, sitting dejectedly in that corner with no one to interact with. Somehow, it was reminiscent of how Soul himself had felt the day before – anxious, nervous, and shy, though he'd never admit to those things aloud. Crona was merely looking down at desk, not even pretending to look around. "Kid looks pretty lonely," Soul mused to himself. Maybe he should go say something, say hello or some shit to at least get Crona to speak up.

His thoughts were thrown back to the dissection as Black*Star announced to the whole class that under his guidance, Kidd had performed the most magnificent hair removal in the history of ever. Soul couldn't stop himself from chuckling a tiny bit. Black*Star may have been annoying, but he was good for a laugh. But even as soul picked up the small incision knife and pressed it down into the dead rat's flesh, he couldn't help but glance back at Crona one more time. And it seemed like when he pushed the knife in, Crona gave a small jump.

AN: Well, there you go. First chapter done, many more to come. It's actually harder than I expected to write without referring to Crona as a girl or a boy. But that problem will be solved, hopefully soon. And sorry if the characters seem a little OOC.