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Rituals of Love	By : AngelKayohisura Category: +S to Z > Soul Eater Views: 5453 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater in the slightest, and I write this for fun and not for profit.

Chapter List
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Story: Rituals Of Love

Chapter: Three

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater in the slightest, and I write this for fun and not for profit.

Rating: T

Summary: Soul struggles to express his emotions, but Maka always comes first.

ooOoo

This whole thing had been a mistake, a huge accident. If he had known at the time that his actions would be misconstrued as an invitation for a date, he would have cut off his tongue right then and there. Because he so didn’t need this shit.

Rewind exactly three days, four hours, two minutes, and twenty seven seconds.

ooOoo

Slam.

Soul jolted into wakefulness and wondered if Maka had cracked the frame. Again.

Stomp stomp stomp.

He pushed the heel of his palms into his eyes and deliberated if he had miscounted the number of days since her last period. There were supposed to be six days of sanity left.

A loud clatter and rattle sounded from the kitchen, and Soul flopped back down onto the couch. He didn’t want any part of—

“SOUL! You didn’t go to the grocery store, did you?!?!”

“Blearghmm,” he grunted.

Maka stormed out of the kitchen and dropped a soup pot on his face.

“Fuck! Maka!”

“You were supposed to buy food!”

“I fell asleep.”

“Ohhh, so we should just starve because you couldn’t get your lazy ass five blocks to the store,” she hissed with accusing eyes.

“You could have got some during your little shopping trip,” Soul grumbled as he stood and stretched, joints popping in protest.

“Why would I when you were supposed to do it on your way home!”

“Shut up already, I’m going!”

He yanked on his jacket and fumbled for his keys and wallet, avoiding the daggers Maka was shooting his way.

“Don’t bother!” Maka hissed, flouncing to her room where she, predictably, slammed the door.

Soul stared after her in disbelief, and left. Clearly something was wrong, because this was just ridiculous.

ooOoo

Later, he knocked on her door softly and called gently, “Maka, open up.”

“Go away!”

“I have Chinese food.”

Silence greeted his peace offering.

“With egg rolls.”

A sliver of green peeked out from behind the wood. He waggled the bag in front of her, but jerked it out of her grasp when she reached for it.

“Let me in.”

Maka narrowed her eyes again and frowned but she finally opened the door wide enough to let him in.

They sat on her bed and ate for a few minutes in silence. When Soul judged her mouth to be full and her belly stuffed with at least four egg rolls, he dared to speak.

“I meant it, Maka. Let me in.”

Maka glanced up at him startled, and slowed in inhaling her lo mein.

“It’s nothing really. Just something stupid.”

Soul swiped her last egg roll and held it up with his chopsticks.

The unspoken threat was clear, but Maka would no longer meet his gaze much less say anything.

Soul sighed internally, but decided to let it go. Girl problems were more, well, Tsubaki’s and the rest of the girls’ department. His role was more along the lines of kicking ass and taking names.

He placed the egg roll back on her plate and slurped down his soup.

Maka couldn’t hold her silence any longer after he returned her egg roll. Soul was being so considerate and just—

“I got rejected. It was stupid of me to ask.”

Soul stared at her mid-slurp. Oh, they were going to talk after all. Okay, he could do this.

“For the extra-curricular in South America? They actually had other applicants?”

Maka’s face screwed up in what might have been confusion or a really gross bite of Chinese.

“No! To the Autumn formal!”

Soul quickly shoved more food in his mouth to buy more time. She asked someone out? Who? And what the hell was he supposed to do now? Despite his inhalation of food, Maka was clearly waiting for some kind response.

“You could always…uh, go with me?” They’re the first words out of his mouth, and he’s mostly just happy that they make sense.

Maka brightened a little, and Soul felt warm fuzzies at the little spark in her green eyes. Yes, he had said the right thing! Watching all those hated chick flicks with Maka had paid off.

“You…aren’t going with that girl?”

“No.” Soul frowned at the memory of the sixth girl who asked him to the ball. “The only girl I would take to one of these things is you.”

Maka choking on her last egg roll effectively ended that conversation, but Soul thought it was good that it had ended while he was ahead.

ooOoo

Soul wondered if he the high pitched squealing coming from the corner of the classroom should worry him. Tipping his chair back and folding his arms behind his head, he decided that a nap would be a better use of his time than trying to figure out what the gal pals were so excited over.

If he had stayed awake, he might have heard curious snippets of their conversation or noticed the way one or more would occasionally turn and peer at him and at the other boys.

ooOoo

Maka stomped on Liz’s foot, hissing, “Stop staring!”

Liz stopped staring, but Maka liked neither the mischievous smirk nor the predatory glint in her eyes. And she especially didn’t like that she was the object of Liz’s attention.

“It’s not a date.”

Liz’s smirk only deepened.

“I didn’t think Soul would ask you out directly,” Tsubaki chimed in softly, attempting to both defuse the tension and address the situation. “But I think…He’s definitely trying to express his feelings for you.”

Maka blushed, and tried to not let her voice come out in a squeak. “And I’m telling you, I don’t think it’s like that.”

“Feh,” Liz snorted. “Since when has shark-boy ever asked you anywhere?”

“Never!”

“Exactly! He’s finally clueing in to how he feels.”

“How he feels! How he feels!” Maka hissed lowly. “He’s never, ever looked at me that way before, so why should he suddenly start now?”

“Because he has all the social grace of the standoffish bad-boy he likes to pretend to be,” Liz retorted.

“Soul’s always had a great well of feeling for you, Maka,” Tsubaki interjected. “You and Black Star are the only ones to coax a lot of emotion out of him.” Tsubaki paused, a little unsure if she should continue on. “He…everyone knows how protective he is of you. And anyone who knows you two…” She shrugged helplessly, at a loss for words. “It only makes sense.”

In a mocking falsetto, Liz dramatically began to proclaim, “Maka! The only girl I would ever take to a ball is you! Why? Because the only girl I would ever kiss is you! The only girl I would give my heart to is you! The only—“

Patty started giggling madly, and burst into loud song, “Soul and Maka, kissing in a tree—“

Maka slammed a book into her head so hard and fast that she didn’t even realize what she had done until Patty laid moaning on the floor clutching the dent in her head. Horrified, she dropped to one knee and inspected the wound.

“Sorry,” Maka offered weakly to Patty, avoiding the daggers Liz was shooting her, and letting herself be brushed aside by said sister. “I panicked!”

That didn’t save her from a punch to the head, courtesy of Liz, but Patty forgave her without the need for physical retaliation.

ooOoo

Black Star spread the news as fast as he could form the words, and it spread like wildfire in the bone dry forest of the DWMA rumor mill. Forget who was taking who and how many girls were going to end coming in the same dress, because, finally, the renowned pair had coupled off. Bets were paid out and more bets were laid. Had they done it yet? Would they kiss at the Autumn formal? How long would they last? How many times would Spirit faint?

ooOoo

“Tsubaki! I’m going to have a get a different dress!”

“But you loved the dress you bought yesterday…”

“That was before I found out it was going to be my outfit for my very first date with Soul!” Maka peered into the full length mirror, holding the dress up to her body and frowned. “What if he…well…confesses? I have to look amazing.”

“Confesses?” Tsubaki tilted her head slightly to the side, not comprehending. “But you do look amazing with that dress.” She smiled warmly, confident in addressing at least that part of the problem.

“But is it the kind of dress you tell the person you…well, you know, in? I have to make it as easy for him as possible.”

“Eh?” By now Tsubaki was thoroughly baffled.

“I mean, if it’s time for…for the gloves to come off, is this the piece of clothing to do it in? Shouldn’t it be more dazzling?” Still moping in the mirror, her eyes lingered on her hidden bosom. It should have more cleavage, the dress she had now was too cute.

“EH?!”

Abruptly turning to her, Maka gestured to her chest. “For example, I feel like I need more cleavage now! He’s not going to do anything without a little prodding!”

“Pr-prodding?”

“Something to get the juices flowing!”

Tsubaki wavered and collapsed into a seat, one scandalous statement away from swooning.

Maka flopped back onto her bed with an exasperated sigh. “I mean it’s Soul. He LOVES huge boobs! And I just can’t compete. What if, in that moment, he can’t go through with it, because when he’s staring at me soulfully in the moonlight, he realizes he can’t be with a girl with such a tiny rack! But with the right dress, maybe he’ll think, oh, they’re bigger than I thought! And be so happy that he does it right then and there!”

“Maka!” Tsubaki finally squeaked out, mortified at everything Maka had just related. “Soul-kun isn’t going to jump you in the middle of the Autumn formal! Swaying cleavage or not!”

“J-j-jump me?” Maka whispered, horrified. “You think he might JUMP ME?”

“I said he wasn’t going to jump you! Wasn’t!” Tsubaki spluttered, more than a little dazed by now. “You were the one who is saying he will!”

“NO!” Maka yelped. “I meant, like—if he tells me he LOVES me. …Or you know,” she whispered hesitantly, as speaking the words had somehow made the awe-some thought more real. “At least that he likes me.”

Tsubaki tittered nervously, so overwhelmingly relieved to have been so mistaken, and tried to quell her raging blush.

ooOoo

There was punch at the Autumn Formal, but in Soul’s opinion its deliciousness didn’t make up for the fact that it was non-alcoholic.

Blearily, he stared into the glass, begging the ruby liquid to yield answers for his current predicament. He gave it a solid minute, but with nothing forthcoming he could only settle for downing the rest of the drink. Out of the corner of his eye, Maka and the other girls are gathered in a gaggle—of course—but all he understood was that their sidelong stares don’t bode well for him.

Fuck, he knew this was apparently some kind of date, but he didn’t want this!

Nervously, he shuffled a bit, nudging Black Star. “This is so lame, let’s get out of here.”

“No way man! This party can’t start if the GREAT BLACK STAR isn’t present!”

Black Star spun, jabbing his fingers at all assembled. “Behold, PEONS! YOUR GOD BLACK STAR IS HERE AND IT IS TIME TO DANCE!” With that wild proclamation, Black Star began to boogey, strutting obscenely into the middle of the dance floor. Furthermore, someone manning the lights apparently found it amusing enough to light a spotlight to follow him.

Soul sighed, tossed his drink away, and decided to hell with it. He was here and dancing was lame, but maybe if he played it cool and did a token whatever with Maka, he could get out of here faster. That in mind, he strode over, fighting his mounting panic with every step, and with his best game face, asked, “Care to dance?”

Maka grabbed his hand—so eagerly that it snapped his tenuous thread of calm—and wasted no time steering them to the very center of the floor. This was a terrible idea, he realized with a sinking feeling of dread, and the thought made him all too-aware of his his itchy collar, rising temperature, and clammy hands. But he also knew it was too late to back out. As Maka began to shake and sway, Soul swallowed down the bile and did his best to pretend that this was nothing more than a friendly dance—after all, they weren’t even touching.

The truth bubbled in his throat—he wanted to confess, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to ask Maka if she really thought this was a date—but his hyper-awareness of all the eyes on them served to both racket up the pressure and force the words back down to his gut. He prayed his stoic face hid the mass of nerves roiling in his stomach. His reputation would never recover—he would forever be known as the most insensitive jackass of all time—if Maka started to cry or slapped him or whatever she would do if he told her.

Soul couldn’t meet her eyes—he stared over her shoulder, at the floor, at his arms, anywhere that wasn’t her face—because it was her reaction he was scared of the most. Did she actually want this to happen? The concept of them?

Worrying over that question made the whole night pass as a dizzying blur of ignoring reality. He knew he tried to do the bare minimum to make it, well, nice enough of an evening for Maka, because he owed her at least that much before he, maybe, crushed her heart. But the endless mantra in his mind of ‘This is a misunderstanding. We’re just friends. Maka feels the same way. This is a misunderstanding—‘ left him more sick with every repetition.
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Rituals of Love