Chapter Text
The distant moon stared at Soul through his bedroom window. Unable to sleep, he stared back.
It had been about four years since the familiar grinning yellow crescent he had grown up with was enveloped by the orb that now hovered ominously in the night sky. Soul should know; he was there when it happened. Hell, his own Black Blood probably still marked that stupid space rock.
Oddly, the moon didn’t just appear to be round now. It changed shape throughout the month. Stein had eventually deduced that the moon wasn’t really changing shape each night- but rather, the moon was moving ever so slightly in a predictable way that caused the earth to cast a shadow over it. Fifteen days ago the moon was practically invisible, marked only by a circular patch void of stars. Ten days ago it almost looked like the crescent he was familiar with. Now it was fully exposed and glowing a murky purple, a giant baleful eye about to blink.
When Stein had explained all this to them a few years ago, Maka had nodded obediently like she understood. Soul hadn’t really gotten it, but then again it didn’t matter one way or another how the moon looked. All he could think is how rude it was of the moon to mess with his circadian rhythm on a monthly basis.
Soul rolled to his side. There was a quiet plink plink plink outside in the distance- wood scraping against cobblestone. Probably just the witch that hung out on their street dragging her broomstick around. Witches somehow managed to have even worse sleep schedules than he did.
Soul groaned and sat up. He knew all too well that the harder he tried to chase sleep, the more swiftly it would evade him. It seemed like a cruel trick of mother nature that a guy who loved sleep so much had such a hard time ever getting any.
He already tried to flip his pillow like ten times. Briefly, he debated the pros and cons of popping a melatonin pill, not that those were much help anyways.
There wasn’t much else to do except for play.
He clamored to the edge of his bed, one leg swung over the edge. His left leg, folded over his right, looked normal down until about mid-thigh, where human flesh and blood gave way to a smoothly curved sickle shape adorned with sparkling black and white keys.
It made Soul happier than he’d openly admit. He’d known he was a weapon for a long time, and he was proud of it. In the hands of his meister, together they were a force to be reckoned with. Still, he wasn’t just a killing machine. It was nice to be reminded that he had the ability to create as well.
Plus, being able to turn his limb into a keyboard at will was awfully convenient- their apartment didn’t exactly have room for a grand piano.
He tested a key. It was a little off-tune, but not terrible. He found out that ‘tuning’ himself mostly had to do with what sort of mental state he was in. Not necessarily if he was happy or sad, it was less straightforward. As far as he could figure, it had to do more with inner peace or love or some other cheesy hippie bunk he didn’t fully understand.
He closed his eyes and let his fingers roll over the keyboard, allowing a simple melody to dance through the air. The short song was only interrupted by the creeeak of his doorknob turning.
“Hey.” He said.
“Hey,” Maka replied, rubbing her eyes.
Soul knew she tried to keep a rigid sleep schedule. Noting her pajamas, felt a twinge of guilt.
“My bad, did I wake you up?”
To his relief, Maka shook her head. “Can’t wake me up if I was never asleep,” she replied, “Can I sit?”
Soul grunted in admission and scooted over.
“Play for me?” She pleaded with those big green eyes she knew Soul couldn’t say no to.
Soul shrugged. “Sure. Any requests?”
“I don’t know, something relaxing. Artist’s pick.” Maka decided.
Soul could work with that. He started out with slow, deep notes coming in waves, racking his brain for something by Beethoven. He really was more of a freeform jazz guy, but luckily his memory didn’t completely fail him and he only stumbled a little. Not that Maka seemed to notice or care. That was one nice thing about her, for all her righteous passion, she could forgive a bit of stumbling.
Maka let out a contented sigh through her nose. He could practically feel her heartbeat slowing as she melted into his side. It had the opposite effect on Soul’s pulse.
It was sort of weird, but he couldn’t actually tell how long they’d been together. Like, together together- it sort of just happened. When they’d first met, they were just barely old enough to enroll in Death’s Academy. They hit it off and he’d thought she was sort of cute in a nerdy girl-next-door way, but not like that . Obviously that didn’t last forever, and he doubted either of them knew exactly when that switch had flipped. They’d held hands and felt warm-and-fuzzy feelings and done other things two happy grown-ups do in a relationship long before she’d actually called him the b-word. Boyfriend , that is, not bastard , though she sometimes endearingly called him that too.
Even though they’d been through hell and back together and Soul would gladly put his life in her hands (and he literally did, every day), this aspect of their relationship felt delicate somehow. Like if he opened his big stupid mouth and said the wrong thing or made the wrong move it would just vanish, like a dewdrop evaporating under the desert sun.
Soul didn’t know what the future held and he thought it was pointless to think about. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but still, if he could freeze this moment in time forever then he was sure he’d be the happiest man in Nevada. He let himself lean back against her. The sonata he’d been playing slowed down as he grew more sleepy, fingers keying almost as if they had a mind of their own.
He let them trickle over to the far end of the keyboard. Twinkling high notes filled the air. Then, something less soft and more somber.
Suddenly, Maka stiffened. No longer, dozing, eyebrows furrowed.
“What’s up?” Soul muttered.
“What song was that?” She asked.
Soul scratched his chin. “I was just riffing. It wasn’t any specific song.”
Maka looked thoughtful. “Towards the end, it felt like I’d heard it before. But it didn’t feel exactly like you .”
“You’re right. I’m actually Black Star, I just bleached my hair, got contacts, killed the real Soul, and stole his house keys.”
Maka gave him an unimpressed look.
“Okay, okay. Uh, I think it went something like this?” Soul relented. He honestly hadn’t been thinking about any particular song, just fooling around like he’d said. Something high pitched, maybe a little frantic. Or was it more slow and somber? He tried pressing a few keys but nothing quite hit the mark.
“Sorry, I think we lost it.” Soul admitted.
Maka dropped her gaze. She had a thoughtful expression that he couldn’t quite decipher. “Yeah, it’s okay.” She looked back up at him and gave him another heart-melting smile. “Hey, thanks for playing for me.”
“Sure.”
Maka gave his non-keyboard knee a quick squeeze before standing up.
Soul stared as she gently closed his bedroom door behind her. He sort of wished she would keep it open.
In a quick flash of light, Soul’s body returned to fully human, and he flopped onto his back with a sigh. Maka was right, he thought. It wasn’t his song. Soul hadn’t been entirely honest with her; he had a nagging suspicion of whose song it was, but he was worried acknowledging the thought would bring his worry to life. The moon continued to stare right through Soul, seeing things within he couldn't even imagine.
Luckily, as easily as the melody had appeared, it faded again, and Soul didn’t want to lose any more sleep over it.
He had his whole life to remember, after all.