Author stuff: Once again, dearest readers, welcome to CAFÉ EVANS. I originally wrote this back in 2009 and have since wanted to edit it. I started to, a few years ago, but I stopped. I reread some of it earlier this year and was appalled by several things.
First and foremost was my use of pronouns for Crona. It was wrong of me and I apologize to so many people.
Secondly, my language and grammar were terrible. I was getting back into the groove of writing after a small hiatus and wasn't at the point that I am now. My editing this fixed all of that.
Lastly, some parts of this were just plain awful. I've grown as a writer and have realized that now.
I hope you enjoy what I fixed and made better. This was an incredible idea that I had and I'm glad so many people enjoyed it when it first came out. I hope that new folks come in and feel the love I've put into this.
I will be starting to update this entire thing 15 December 2015. To anyone who was reading this before, I am sorry about the sudden deletion of chapters. I should have left a warning up for the entire day and then do what I did.
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or any of the characters. They all belong to Atsushi Okubo, who is signed under Square Enix in Japan and Yen Press in North America. The anime is directed by Takuya Igarashi, and produced by Bones, Aniplex, Dentsu, Media Factory, and TV Tokyo. And was released to America by Funimation.
Claimer: I do own Café Evans and Maggie.
I quit my job. Again.
Don't ask me why I always quit my job, because, honestly, I don't think you'll get it... Okay, maybe you would. You see, I tend to get jobs where the bosses want more services than I am willing to give. They find university girls attractive, and I am a sophomore in one — DCU, Death City University, to be exact. You get where I'm going with the whole perverted boss thing wanting a nineteen-year old college girl? Good, because I've had five jobs within the past year with bosses who were all alike.
Now, I'm looking for a new job, hopefully not one with a middle-aged man as my boss looking for some easy "booty" — as my peers call it. Well, I found one place I'd like to work. It came highly recommended by several of my teachers who had found out about my previous employment issues.
"The manager's a decent fellow," they said. "A young man who's practically engaged. Just ask some of the other students who work there."
It would have been nice to know who the other students were, but I found the teachers were true to their words.
Wes Evans was, indeed, a decent fellow. He was tall and in his middle-twenties with tame, white hair and brilliant red eyes. He wore a white shirt with black dress pants, a simple gray cotton apron that was tied loosely around his waist, and a simple black neck tied looped around his neck and was embroidered with the café's logo. He seemed content on knowing that I wanted to work there. And he had many questions. Many questions about my previous employers.
"You said you quit all of your other jobs," he said. "Mind telling me why?"
"I, uh..." I said, trailing off. "My previous employers wanted something that, well, many girls are unwilling to give, and it was… yeah. I didn't want to give in."
"Ah. They tried to force their hand on you, and you immediately quit. Smart girl. I think you'll fit right in, Miss. Albarn."
"My teachers told me other students from DCU work here."
"Yes," he said, "some do. Follow me, please."
"Do you mind telling me who my fellow peers are?"
He led to the back of the café to a small, boxed room with a sewing machine, fabric, and stairs that led probably up to an apartment.
"Hm. Oh, no I don't mind. Let's see, you have Black Star, Miss. Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, and there's 'Death the Kid' or whatever he's calling himself nowadays."
I knew all three of them. I shared several classes with the rather obnoxious Black Star. (What kind of name is that anyway? Were his parents on crack or something when they named him? And another thing, was he dropped on his head as an infant?) Tsubaki Nakatsukasa was a kind-hearted girl. (She was the one went to for notes, if I missed a day. Which was a very, very, very rare occasion.) And then Death the Kid. (I still question his sanity, even after attending grade school, middle school, high school, and these two years at DCU with him. Not counting Pre-K and the miscellaneous summer jobs we had together.)
"That's it? There aren't many people working here."
"There's also me and my brother. And my Maggie whenever she can. Though, she just helps out, I don't pay her. Maybe I should next time... Ah well, I'll think about it later. Anyway, she will take your measurements."
"M-measurements? For what?" No one took my measurements. Mainly because I didn't like people comparing my chest measurements to theirs.
"For your uniform. We like all of our employees to wear similar uniforms. We don't like just a nice white top and dress pants. No, ma'am! All uniforms must match down to the last stich!"
"Wes, what are you going on about?" a voice from the stairs asked.
A small woman walked down. She was followed by a young man who looked very similar to Wes, only more my age.
"Maggie, my love! Soul! Meet Miss. Maka Albarn. She's the new addition to the Café Evans family. Say 'hi'!" Wes waved his hands around excitedly as he introduced me to the two.
"Hello, Miss. Albarn," Maggie said, smiling widely. She was a petite woman in her mid-twenties, probably a year or two older than me, with black hair the fell in waves down her back and intelligent brown eyes. She wore a simple black dress that was loose fitting. Even in the dress she looked well endowed.
"Yo," said the younger version of my employer. The could pass as brothers but definitely not twins. His white hair was wild and his red eyes shone deviously under his bangs. A smirk played on his lips, reminding me of the Cheshire cat. His white shirt was not tucked into his black pants, which were held up by a belt with skulls and crossbones on bottle caps. A black tie, much like his brother's, looped around his neck, only it wasn't tied. That bothered me.
"She'll be working here from now on," Wes said, smiling. "Soul, go work up front for a while. Maggie dearest, please take Miss. Albarn's measurements. When she's done, Miss. Albarn, just come up to the front. Soul will be your supervisor, so he'll be training to. He'll be rather reluctant at first, but give a few days and he'll warm up to you. Have fun!"
And, with that, he left me alone with Maggie to be measured. She drew out a measuring tape — it was actually black and pink with little skulls with hearts for eyes.
"I'm glad to see there is another female in the staff," she said. "Poor Miss. Nakatsukasa was all alone for two weeks..."
Maggie went on talking about that for a while as she took my measurements. She wielded the tape with expertise only a seamstress had, clucking from time to time as she read the numbers. I said something every now and again, but she didn't seem to hear them. Nor did she seem to care that I said anything.
"Your uniform will be done tomorrow," she said after ten minutes of measuring various body-lengths. All the numbers were written on a piece of paper.
"Is there anything you need for me to pick up or buy to complete the uniform?" I asked.
"Um... Nothing that I can think of right now. I'll let you know if I think of something. You'd better go up front. Soul's probably bored out of his mind doing nothing."
"Is the café really that inactive?"
"Oh, no! Tuesdays are normally just slow days, so there's no pressure of a crowd today. I think that's why Wes wanted to train you today and not start you off tomorrow. Tell me, what's your schedule? For school."
"Well, I have afternoon classes Monday through Thursday. And Friday I have a night class. Then after the Friday class, I normally do my laundry down at Frankie's Laundromat. It's cheaper and a lot less crowded than DCU's."
"Ookie dookie! I'll let Wes know. Go on, I free you now! Run, little duckling, away from this hungry wolf!"
She shooed me out of the room, and I made my way to the front, glad to get away. She was a bit odd. Soul stood behind the counter, obviously bored out of his mind. He looked up when he heard me stumble over my own two feet.
Yep, I'm a klutz half of the time. The other half, I'm a ninja. Yep, that's right. You heard it from the horse's mouth. Just joshing. I'm actually the daughter of one of the best dancers in all of Death City. Shh! It's a citywide secret, don't tell anyone.
"So," he said, "you're the new employee."
Was he that slow or was he trying to be as cool as possible? Because if he was, he totally wasn't. Cool, I mean. He was, in fact, the complete opposite. Like one of those Hipsters with their knitted hats in the summer and thick-rimmed glasses and the gauges in their ears. Actually, he would have made a great hipster.
I shrugged off his ignorant comment and walked over to his side — a safe distance away of course. He eyed me curiously, the Cheshire smirk never fading away.
"Do you know how to work a blender?" he asked. I frowned.
"That's a silly question to asked," I answered.
"You'd be surprised at the number of people who don't (1). So, do you?"
"How about George Foreman Grill?"
"I use one to make grilled chicken."
"A knife?" he asked, holding up a simple butter knife.
"Only morons can't use one, and only morons cut themselves with one."
"I take it you know from experience."
"My dad isn't the brightest crayon in the crayon box, or so the saying goes."
"Do you know how to use a fridge?"
"I am not my father."
"I make my own orange juice every morning."
"Here's a toughie, a cash register?"
"I did work at several convenience stores."
"Congratulations, you are ten steps ahead of most people. I'll give you that. How about a telephone?"
"Okay, now you're making fun of me."
"Can you carry a tray of food?"
"Now that, I have never done," I said, nearly bobbing my head down in shame.
"Good, I have something to teach you." He smiled. Really smiled. I felt my heart flutter. He grabbed a plastic tray and handed it to me.
"Okay, how do you hold it," he said. I looked at him, confused. "I just want to see if you know how."
"Alright..." I said, trailing off.
I held the tray up with my left hand and used my right to balance it.
"Is your left hand your dominant hand?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.
"No, it just... It's more comfortable this way."
He nodded before filling up a glass of water and placed it on the tray.
"Normally, if it's just one or two glasses, you'd be carrying them with your hands, but I'm just seeing what you know. Now, walk around."
I did. Slowly at first, for my fear of knocking the water over, but then I gained confidence and walked quicker. He added another cup and another and another. It went on until I could carry eight cups of water without fear of them splashing, falling over, or the such (2).
"Good," he said when he was content. "It'll take a while but you'll get used to it. Not many can handle eight cups on the first day."
"I'll take that as a compliment," I said, setting down the tray and drinking water for one of the glasses.
"Hey, that water's for the customers."
And so, I began working at Café Evans.
1. I am amongst the large number of people who do not know how to work a blender. I once had the rubber lid in the blender and I started it. It was a tragedy. We got a new one, though.
2. Tray carrying information was taken from the How website (I have no idea if the page I had here was even accessible anymore). I have never worked in the food business, so I didn't know how to carry a tray of drinks, much less a tray of food.
Author stuff cont'd: I know I'm going to get questioned for this: Okay, the story starts out right after Maka's classes end on Tuesday. I was going to have the story take place before her classes but decided it would be best if it started after. It's more convenient on time and whatnot.
When Soul was asking Maka all those questions, so he knew what he could train her in, the idea was inspired by A Wrinkle in Time (good book, BAD movie). There's one part when Calvin is over at the Murry household and he's quizzing Meg's intelligence. I got it from that.
There wasn't a whole lot that was altered from the original. Some parts were added and some were taken out. Mostly, the honorifics thing was deleted. That… ugh… So glad I'm past that stage of my life.