Fic Postin'
A/N: A quick one shot. Please Enjoy!
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This was the day she had been looking forward to the most.
‘Find a Partner Day!’ had been named by Shinigami-sama himself. As the obvious title explained, it was a day to meet and greet with weapons and meisters. People would mingle, find those they got along with best, and try to find prospective partners for the lessons to come. Those lessons would narrow down who resonated with whom the best and partnerships were formed. It was rare to find the right partner the first time, but Maka was determined.
Mama had found Papa her first time partner searching. Even if Papa was a perverted idiot, he was a powerful weapon and Mama had been lucky to find him right off the bat. Although, her Papa had once mentioned something about his previous partnership not working out (and shivering while mentioning it), it was Mama who had made the right choice. For a partnership. Not so much for a marriage.
Resolute, Maka clinched her gloved fist. She would be just as great as her mother - no better. She would make a better weapon to outshine her lecherous Papa.
So Maka marched up those steps, face forward and unyielding. She had a few people to speak with in mind. Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, for one. They’d met up by chance and she seemed sweet enough. Plus there were a few other girls she’d talked to who were weapons.
That was Maka’s one preference. She wanted a female weapon so she wouldn’t make the same mistake as her Mama (See: Papa + Marriage). Besides, females were clearly superior to the idiotic male of the species.
The tanned hallways were filled with incoming students mingling and talking with each other. They were watching each other carefully, looking for that perfect partner. Maka stared others down, maybe a bit too determined, but continued her search.
Tsubaki was the first person Maka recognized. She waved to the black haired girl. Tsubaki gave a sweet smile before making her way over to Maka.
“Hi, Albarn-san,” Tsubaki said cheerfully.
“Oh, you can call me Maka,” Maka said, rubbing the back of her head as she grinned back at Tsubaki.
“Maka-chan, then?” Tsubaki asked, her blue eyes twinkling. Tsubaki would a great choice. She was one of the powerful demon weapons, and a ninja weapon at that. Maka briefly imagined lurking in the shadows, hitting people with throwing stars. Together, they’d be a powerful team, then she’d turn Tsubaki into a Death Scythe, and her Mama would be so proud . . .
“Oi, Tsubaki! Who’s this ant?” asked someone, interrupting Maka’s daydream. A loud mouthed, blue spiky haired shorty appeared by Tsubaki. He looked at Maka stubbornly, sizing her up for a moment. Maka’s hand itched to grab the book she had brought. Just one quick bump to the head wouldn’t hurt him that much . . .
“Oh, Maka-chan, this is my meister, Black*Star.” Tsubaki pointed to the short idiot who was cruisin’ for a bruising.
“Eh?” Maka’s face fell in a quick second. She already had finalized a meister?!? And what kind of name was Black*Star?!?!
“Oh, already speechless, huh! For I am the great BLACK*STAR!!!! HAHAHAHA!!!” He threw his head back and laughed, hands on his hips. How could someone as sweet as Tsubaki go for such a pigheaded freak?
“Eh?” was all Maka could say again, still lost by Tsubaki’s decision. By this time, Black*Star was posing.
“The great Black*Star is so godlike that not even these very walls can hold me!” He promptly punched a wall, crumbling half of it to rubble.
“BLACK*STAR!” Tsubaki shouted, fretting over the newly caused trouble. Black*Star just stood back, laughing proudly at his accomplishment.
“I’ll just go now, Tsubaki-chan,” Maka said, waving to the worried girl and her crazy partner. Neither really noticed, too wrapped up in the proceeding incident.
Maka scratched her head, her emerald eyes scanning the crowds for any other perspective partners. One girl, Jacqueline O. Lantern Dupré, caught her eye. Jacqueline was a lamp type. An odd weapon, but effective in her own way. Maka made her way through the crowd, but saw Kim walk up to lantern girl. They laughed before setting eyes on Maka.
“Hey Maka!” Kim called, beckoning her over. Maka felt a little let down seeing the two had already found each other, but she wondered if maybe they could both partner with Jacqueline and see who was better. That’s how it worked out sometimes.
“Still looking?” Jacqueline asked, smiling.
“Unfortunately, but Jacqueline, would you mind . . .?” Maka asked. Her hope was escaping like a deflating balloon. Kim and Jacqueline looked at each other guiltily before responding.
“Well Kim and I have known each other for years, so we knew we’d resonate well together, and -“ Jacqueline started. Maka hide her slowly dying confidence behind a smiling mask.
“Oh, I see. Well, there are still a lot of people for me to meet, so I’m sure I’ll find someone.” The lie came out easily, as she tried to appease her nervous friends. They took the bait willingly, leaving Maka feeling even lonelier. For the first time it truly occurred to her: what if she couldn’t find a single potential partner? She had come determined to find whoever it would be, but finding someone free or even willing to share was proving to be harder than she thought.
The book she’d brought read was starting to feel very tempting, but she shrugged it off and continued forward.
Her day continued in the same manner: find someone, talk to them, and then discover they’d already found someone else. No one even wanted to share a partner, preferring to keep the one they had chosen, whether it worked out or not. She felt like there was something wrong with her that kept others away, but she didn’t know what it could be. Her Mama had made the strongest Death Scythe and her Papa was that very Death Scythe. She probably had more genetic talent than all the bragging Black*Star had done.
Exasperated and melancholy, she finally sank down to the floor in a quiet place and cracked open her book, the heavy tome about the history of weapons and their meisters. Why not get a little ahead in studying and figure out what the best partners in history were like? But all this worldly knowledge had gotten her nowhere. Now she was rereading it in a quiet corner all to herself.
She lost herself in the pages, reading once more about glorious Mama and lousy Papa. She learned of how they fought and fell in love and she wished once more that they wouldn’t be threatening each other with divorce. Even if it was all Papa’s fault, she longed for her family to have the fairy tale ending instead of the grubby real one. But life was just crazy like that.
As she thought on these things, she heard footsteps sounding from some kind of dress shoes. She didn’t bother to look up at the passerby, till he stopped in front of her. Gathering herself, she settled for glaring at the interrupter. He stared down at her with bloody red, almost ruby eyes, quickly returning the glare. Then he went on his way, down the rest of the hallway and turning to the right.
“Who does he think he is?” she grumbled to herself, looking at the pages of her book again, but when she happened upon the word weapon, it hit her. Did she just death-glare a potential weapon? And so what if he was a male and had only paused to see if he could look up her skirt (Which, to her, that would be most logical reason for him to stop in front of her.)? This chance could not be missed, so she got up and ran down the hall after him.
She listened carefully and heard his shoes’ loud clacks as he walked along. She followed, sometimes confused by echos, but she eventually made her way to a room in the musical part of Shibusen. She walked forward softly, no longer hearing his steps, but caught a glimpse of his white hair and pinstripe suite entering another room. Peering around a corner, she finally found him, staring down a grand piano.
Her heart fluttered as she wondered if he had already found a partner, or was just another meister like her. He hadn’t been wearing a nametag when she looked, so she held her breath and bravely walked up to him.
Turning his head briefly to the side, he gave fleeting smile, his sharp teeth surprising her. He glanced at her ‘meister’ tag, and then paused taking her in for a second. Plopping down on the piano bench, he looked her up in the eyes, his odd grin twisting up higher.
“This is who I am,” he said, then turned around and played.
It was terribly dark and eerie, the deepening low notes holding out and the creeping high squeaks blending together to make a sound haunting to the ears. It dragged out, twisting and curling, chilling her to the bone, but she felt its harmony. The song was not bad at all; it was . . . different. Much like enjoying something old in a fresh way. She closed her eyes, listening to rhythm as the song screeched higher and higher, nearly calling out to her. It slowed suddenly, coming to a soft, almost dying close. She opened her eyes, watching the person’s unmoving form.
“That was wonderful,” she said, smiling. He turned to look at her, smiling once more, but it had lost its creepy edge. She understood now. Partnerships were as old as time; he was different, and she saw it. She saw it in way no one else had.
She held out her hand.
“I’m Maka.”
He took that hand.
“And I’m Soul.”
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A year later.
“Oi, tiny tits. What are you daydreaming about now?” Soul asked, shoving her feet off his knees. She grumpily replaced them, leaning back on the arm of the sofa, opposite of Soul.
“Don’t you remember what today is?” she asked, resting her hands carefully on her book. Soul eyed it warily, wondering what kind of trouble he could have gotten himself into unwittingly. Again.
You just never knew with Maka.
“Well it’s not your birthday. Don’t even think I forgot, because I’ll never forget those Maka Chops,” he said. She gave a sly grin, hands tightening slightly on her book. Soul paled faintly, starting to second guess himself.
“I swear it’s the 25th of March and it is 4 months, 2 weeks, 4 days, 7 hours, 8 minutes, and 46 seconds away,” he said quickly, feeling his coolness level go down a few points, but it was better to be safe than sorry. She laughed at him now, emerald eyes twinkling.
“No, it’s the anniversary of when we partnered up,” she said. Soul rolled his eyes, looking off to the ceiling.
“You make it sound like we’re married,” he moaned. Maka flinched, beating his head with her fists a second later.
“You are such an idiot sometimes,” she yelled grumpily.
“Okay, Okay, I hear you already,” he said, shoving her away. She huffed, puffing her cheeks up slightly, a sure sign she was annoyed.
“Well maybe now you’ll remember!” she said, standing promptly from the couch and stalking towards the kitchen.
“I’m surprised I didn’t. That was the time I saw the pink pair. Whatever happened to those? You always wear white now,” he said with a chuckle. Maka flushed, her grip deadly on her book.
“MAKA CHOPPPPPPP!!!!!”
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A/N: Sorry for a little OOC with Maka. I tried to ‘de-age’ her, or bring her personality to younger days. I assumed that before she met Soul, her father was the only prominent male in her life, and he left a slightly bad impression on her (thus her hatred of males). Then her opinion of males gained a bit of light after she met Soul and understood that there are really good men out there, thus bringing her personality to the one we all know today. A lot can change in a person in a simple year. :)
Big thank you to my Beta: Fitful_fire. Thanks for fixing those grammar mistakes and odd sentences. Love ya. -hugs-
Reviews and criticism loved. <3
Hopefully that cut work. >.> Anyway, first time posting a fic on LJ. Let's see how it works out . . .