361A/N: This started as a single drabble, The Gift, but I've decided to mark this space for a non-song related series of shorts. Like yummy bits of candy, each sweet little Soul Eater morsel will be unwrapped for your consumption.
This first little drabble is set right after the first fight with Arachne and Giriko. I'm aware this is a lot of fluff to lead to the punch line; I make no apologies.
Kudos to steffywolf on tumblr, who I commissioned to do new cover art-it looks fantastic!
The Gift
This wasn't the type of place he normally liked to go. Cramped and stuffy, it made him feel out of place, like if he moved half an inch the wrong way the whole place would come crashing down around him. He remembered as a child occasionally entering such stores with his mother, and even back then he had felt out of place and bored. He looked around, his gaze sliding from object to object, trying to pick out one that might do. There was nothing, absolutely nothing that reminded him of her. He sighed his frustration and his continued failure. He couldn't even get this right.
It was a specialty gift shop and it boasted below its large, gilt sign that within would be found a gift for any and everyone. Soul had trouble believing that was true; sure, there were countless things crammed into every available crevice in the place, shiny things and intricate things, books and art, but he didn't see one thing that he would want. There were so many objects all shoved together wily-nily that he couldn't tell what Maka might like, and the frustration washed through him in waves, seething, boiling. This was the fifth shop he had been to. He just wanted to find something that would make her smile so he'd stop feeling so damned useless. Black*Star was off seeking revenge for his meister and here he was, a weapon without a technician, unable to do anything for her. He'd gotten the bright idea to try to buy her a gift to cheer her, needing to do something, anything, to assuage his guilt, to alleviate his sense of helplessness, but he was beginning to suspect that even that was futile. Blair would have to leave her bedside soon and he would need to return. He was running out of time.
Soul heard a clearing of the throat behind him and whipped around to face the store attendant, a tall, thin man of maybe twenty, with soft brown hair and light blue eyes. He was eyeing the weapon expectantly.
"Can I help you?" he said, his soft voice polite.
"Nah, I'm just looking," Soul responded flatly. How was some register jockey who had never met Maka going to help when even her own weapon couldn't find her a good gift? He should have stuck with a book, but he'd thought books were easy, books were expected when it came to his bookworm of a meister, and he wanted to actually surprise her. Stupid. Maybe he should just run to the bookstore and call it a day.
"For anything in particular?" He had to give the guy this, he was persistent. Well, it couldn't hurt, could it?
"I'm, uh, looking for a gift."
"Uh huh," the guy replied, drawing out the syllables. Okay, so it was a gift store. Of course he was looking for a gift. He'd have smacked himself in the forehead if it wouldn't have made him look even more uncool.
"For, um, a friend."
"What's this friend like?" the man pressed.
"Well, she likes books. She's kind of a nerd, actually. She studies a lot, and she's a kickass fighter. Uh…" At the last bit as spark of understanding lit the attendant's eyes and he nodded.
"She attends the DWMA?"
"Yeah, we both do."
"And she's your partner?" Soul nodded. "And you're…" he gave Soul a once over, "her weapon?" Another nod. What was up with this guy? Why could it possibly matter?"
"You're Soul Eater, right?" Soul couldn't keep the surprise from his face.
"Uh, sure, who's asking?" Yeah, that was the cool response. At least he'd saved face after his jaw had dropped to the floor, but he still wondered how this dude could possibly know who he was. The guy was just some retail loser.
"Jared," he held out a hand but Soul just looked at it and nodded in recognition. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence before the attendant pushed on.
"Your meister is Maka Albarn, right?" his gaze was even as he kept it on Soul, and this time, Soul managed not to let his jaw fall to the floor.
"That's right," he responded slowly, eyeing the other guy suspiciously. "You know her?"
"Yep!" the attendant responded brightly, sporting a genuine smile, "she's in my Saturday book club!" So that's where she went every other Saturday afternoon. Figured this guy was a fellow nerd. But really, it was good luck. If this loser knew Maka, maybe he really could help. It just irked him that he actually needed the help. Shouldn't he know his meister better than this?
"So what do you think Maka would like?" Soul asked sullenly, the thought that this guy knew something about his partner that he didn't was irritating.
"How about a book?" Soul had to refrain from smacking himself in the forehead for a second time. Yeah, this guy was as useless as he was.
"She's got plenty of those. Lookin' for something a little different."
"Ah, yes. Well, maybe some jewelry? All girls like jewelry."
"Are you sure you know Maka?" Soul looked skeptical. Maka was not like 'all girls' and she had never shown an interest in anything as purely ornamental as jewelry.
"Okay, maybe not. What about some music?" Yeah, he'd consider that, and if he bought her a record she'd even pretend to like it, but she wouldn't really.
"No," his response was flat.
"Uh…mmm…new boots?" he looked hopeful.
"No. Look, I guess you can't help me after all. I should go." Soul turned and began to move towards the door when he heard the man's voice at his back, heard his fingers snap in excitement,
"No, wait! I've got it! A snow globe!" Soul turned around to face him, one skeptical eyebrow reaching for his hairline.
"Whaa?"
"You know," he looked around and then grabbed a glass globe resting on a wooden base. It was filled with water and white flecks. He shook it up and the white stuff swirled and began to fall. "A snow globe. She'd love it. Girls love snow globes." Soul shook his head.
"Maka isn't just some girl," he turned again to leave.
"Well, no," the attendant agreed, "but she would like a snow globe, I'm sure about that."
"How can you be sure?" His voice was thick with skepticism, "I mean, you suggested jewelry."
"Yeah, sorry about that, force of habit," he scratched his head, his smile sheepish. "But I am sure about this. I remember a few months ago when the club read a collection of Frost poetry. Maka was fascinated by the poems about snow and mentioned how being a Death kid, she had only seen it fall a handful of times while out on missions. So I'll bet she'd love a snow globe."
"You know, I think you might be right," because Soul did remember Maka being fascinated by the snow when they'd been on missions, remembered her elated smile. Yeah, a snow globe, that would be cool.
"Well, we keep them over here," Jared motioned and Soul walked over to look at a set of shelves filled with the things. There were globes for dozens of cities, countries, and buildings, real and imaginary. Soul looked them over until a lone globe caught his eye with the farcical sight of snow falling over Death City. Yeah, that was the one. Cool. Maybe Maka could never see real snow in her hometown, but he'd give her the next best thing. Soul thanked Jared, genuinely thanked him, and paid for the purchase. Jared just smiled as he handed him the bag with the globe and his change, scratching his head in thought again. Must have been some sort of reflex.
"You know, you really aren't as big an asshole as she makes you out to be," he said cheerfully. "Well, good luck," the attendant's grin widened and Soul just shook his head, having no good response for that, and left the store. He wasn't as big an asshole as she made him out to be? Just what the hell was that supposed to mean? He was starting to lose his temper at the thought. Man, so uncool. Maka had probably just vented once to this guy when they'd had a fight and he'd taken it wrong. Yeah, he'd go with that one.
Making his way to the curb where his motorcycle was parked, Soul stuffed his prize into the saddlebag and swung his leg over, taking off with a roar. He just had time to get to the Academy and trade places with Blair. He'd managed to actually get a gift and with time to spare. Cool. Hopefully, Maka would actually like it. When he arrived, he parked his bike in his usual spot and, in his excitement, took the stairs two at a time, forgetting that it was uncool to act like a schoolboy buying chocolate for his first crush when you were going to see your injured meister. He burst through the main doors and next thing he knew, he was on the floor.
"Ow!" he heard a female voice echo his own exclamation. He looked ahead. Like him, Blair was sprawled on her ass on the floor. Apparently, they'd smacked right into each other. Brilliant.
"What the hell, Blair?"
"Nya, Blair was just trying to get to her job. Scythe-boy is the one who came crashing through the door like a rabid tornado." Soul shook his head. Rabid tornado? Only Blair. He looked down at his hands and, realizing they were now empty, felt panic rise in his throat. Where'd it go? He looked around frantically before catching site of the bag, which had slid across the floor. He crawled over to it and groaned. Water had spread out from the bag. The globe was destroyed.
"What the hell am I going to do now?" So close, he'd been so damned close.
"Was that for Maka?" Blair had also crawled over and was eying the wet bag skeptically.
"Yeah," he admitted. "It was." A sudden thought came to him. He had to see Maka now, but maybe Blair…"
"Hey, Blair? Do you think you could go by the gift store and get a new one on your way to work, bring it here when your shift is over? I don't want to leave Maka, but uh…"
"Oh, of course, Bu-tan would love to help her scythe-boy," she held out her hand expectantly.
"Er, right," he dug through his pants, finding his wallet, and counting out enough to pay for a replacement. "The store is called The Perfect Gift. You just need to buy a snow globe of Death City. I'm pretty sure I saw another one. And, uh, thanks."
"No problem!" she sang. Standing up, she strutted through the door.
"Right," he repeated with a sigh, picking himself and the bag up. He deposited the soggy, crunching remains of the gift in the nearest garbage can and made his way to the Dispensary. Maka was happy to see him, even without a gift, and he spent the next several hours as he had spent the last several days, caring for her and keeping her company. She was his meister; it was his job.
When Blair finally came in she looked a little sheepish as Soul eyed her expectantly.
"Hi Blair!" Maka said happily. "I didn't expect you to be back today."
"Hi Maka-chan. Bu-tan had to do a favor for scythe boy. Here, he forgot this at home," she smiled down at Maka as the meister greeted her, holding up a small bag. Soul frowned as he eyed it. It looked too small to hold a snow globe. What had Blair…?
"Aw, Soul," his meister blushed prettily, "You didn't have to." Knowing she could not do so for herself, Blair began to dig into the bag and pulled out a lacy babydoll and matching thong. They were absolutely sheer. Soul had to pinch his nose to keep it from gushing at the sight; he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Blair raised the items in front of Maka's eyes and the meister's mouth flattened into a line of displeasure. She eyed them dubiously for several moments, her face beginning more and more to resemble a tomato. Then she screeched,
"PERVERT! Makaaaaa CHOP!" The book connecting with his forehead surprised him, not because he shouldn't have expected it given the situation, but because Maka hadn't been able to move for days. Well, he reasoned as the world began to go fuzzy around the edges, she must have gotten movement back in her arms. That was good. The world was spinning as he slumped to the floor. Never trust a cat, he thought ruefully. He almost felt sorry for Spirit, his mind drifting to the time Maka had received a similar item delivered by their roommate. His last thought before his world faded to black was that he'd need to explain things when he woke up. Some gift.
