AN: Just a quick oneshot to try and pull me out of writer's block. This was mainly inspired by the shockingly pink hair of Fairy Tail's Natsu, and just how "uncool" it is.
Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater, Fairy Tail, a company that makes hair dye, or anything else I could be sued by.
"Hurry up, Soul!" Maka called, gesturing wildly for him to come. Her weapon partner waved a dismissive hand and mouthed that he needed to get something from his locker. The girl huffed, but nodded anyway.
Rounding the corners of the DWMA hallway, Soul grinned to himself. His friends had organised yet another basketball game tomorrow, despite Maka's constant insistence that it was his turn to do the laundry. Bookworm. She expected him to do laundry on a weekend? She'd soon be requesting him to study. Soul shuddered. After his attempted cheating at the exam, he could imagine Maka hanging over his shoulder as he studied, hardback encyclopaedia at the ready
He'd rather take his chances with Stein's scalpel.
Absorbed in his limbo of thoughts, Soul was marginally dragged back to reality when he passed a gang of girls, who erupted into stupid giggles as he passed. He became fully conscious when he heard them whispering about him.
Against his better judgement (or more, phobia of hardback books), the boy stopped around the corner and strained his ears to hear what they were saying.
"What's he doing here?" came one voice.
"Yeah, he never stays late. I saw his partner attack him last time." A burst of giggles.
Soul grimaced with embarrassment.
A third voice came, a soft sighing sound. "I've already given him five partner requests…"
The first voice spoke up again. "Cheer up, Junko. You're not the only one."
A groan of irritation came from somebody. "Does he even read them?"
'Junko' spoke again. "I don't know. He's never replied to any of mine…"
The boy's gut twisted into a hard knot. Was he expected to reply? Yes, he'd never read any of them. They'd all been recycled.
"He's probably scared that his partner'll hunt him down if he leaves." Number two said. This girl giggled a lot.
"…But…" Junko whimpered pathetically.
Voice one attempted to cheer her up. "Come on, the dude has white hair."
"Yeah, is he like, albino or something?"
"No…" Junko replied. "He's kinda tanned…"
"So explain why the heck he has white hair? Explain why he looks like a kid ran out of wax crayons!"
Soul left in the middle of number one's speech, running a hand through his hair. Not cool.
"What took you so long?" Maka complained, hand twitching towards a terrifyingly large book. Soul knew that she was only restraining herself because this new book was her current pride and joy, but he also knew that his meister was not to be underestimated; therefore, he made up an excuse that even he knew made no sense. Maka narrowed her eyes warningly, but put away her bloodthirsty book. "Anyway, we need to stop off at the supermarket on the way home."
Soul groaned. "Grocery shopping? So uncool."
Maka raised an eyebrow, then sighed. "Well you're coming." With that, she swivelled round and set off, leaving Soul with no option but to follow.
Supermarkets are so uncool. Soul thought as Maka strode around, glancing at her list every now and then. Mothers wheeled their trollies, cooing to wailing babies. Others shuffled around on the shiny white floor, or lining at the cash registers like robotic drones. A cool guy like him shouldn't have been there, he decided.
Seeing a small girl struggling to reach a cereal packet from a higher shelf, Soul groaned and got it for her. As she received it, the girl, who was around seven at the oldest, frowned.
"Why is your hair white?"
Soul plastered a fake smile on his face. "Because it is."
The girl's brow furrowed, and she continued to stare. "Don't only old people have white hair? Are you old?"
He HATED this girl. "I'm fifteen."
"Are you sure you're not eighty or something? I thou-"
Just as Soul was formulating a plan that would give the girl nightmares for at least a month, the girl's mother came up, a fairly young-looking woman with a toddler clinging to her skirt. "Come on, Janey, leave the nice man alone." She cooed, taking the girl's hand and leading her away. Soul glared at the girl's back and abandoned his horrific plan. Another, ingenious plan took its place. The boy grinned at just how cool he was before walking off to put it into action.
When a grocery-laden Maka found him, she did notice him slipping something into his pocket. But the bags were heavy, so she ignored it and ordered him to help.
"So not cool, Maka."
"Shut up. And remember, it's your turn to do the laundry."
On Saturday morning, Soul seemed unusually happy. Well, he actually woke up before midday, which was unusual enough. The fact that he was grinning (which somebody who did not know Soul well might classify as terrifying) made it even more strange.
Maka frowned, but brought out his breakfast anyway. Soul thanked her before tucking in.
Wait. He thanked her? For making breakfast? Something was definitely up today, but all Maka could think of was the basketball game that afternoon, which was nothing unusual. She shrugged and decided that it was just one of those days.
After finishing his plate, Soul dumped it in the sink before dashing off to his room. Maka blinked. So far, she'd counted four out-of-character things today. Was Soul ill? No, he seemed healthy.
Maybe he's imagining the many ways he could kick Black Star's ass this afternoon. Yeah, that seemed the most plausible reason.
"Soul! You're gonna be late!" Maka called, knocking on his bedroom door.
"I told you, I'm not going!"
"You know I'm not settling for that!" She yelled, finally charging through into his bedroom.
Which was empty.
"…Well I'm not going."
Ahhh. The bathroom.
Heading over, Maka tried the door, which was locked. She groaned in irritation.
"Soul Eater Evans," she said cooly, imagining him cringing at the mention of his surname, "I have lived with you for at least three years now, and I know for a fact that you would never pass up a basketball game. So get your ass out here before I get Black Star to rip the door off its hinges." She didn't care if the language she was using was inappropriate, this guy was being so… difficult!
"No." came the stubbourn reply. He sounded like a child refusing to eat his vegetables.
Maka sighed in defeat. "Okay. But it Black Star goes on a rampage, I'm not to blame."
With a goodbye, Maka left Soul's room and grabbed her keys, recruiting Blair along the way to substitute for the team. At least I know Blair's not raping him, she thought, glancing with a hint of envy towards her pet cat. Just as she reached the front door, Maka let out a final yell.
"Remember, it's your turn to do the laundry!"
She was not in a good mood when she got back, swearing to herself that she would never, ever ask Blair to play basketball ever again. She wasn't sure the bloodstains on the floor from the rather large crowd that had gathered would ever fade away.
And to top it all off, Soul was still refusing to come out of his bathroom. What was he, Chrona? Actually, no. Chrona was easier to deal with.
It was only when she'd finished cooking dinner that she heard the door creak open. And when it did, she turned around to a shocking sight.
"…Soul?" She half gasped, grabbing the table behind her for support. "What the-?"
Her partner groaned. "It's-"
"IT'S PINK!" she shrieked, shrinking away. "YOUR HAIR IS PINK!"
Yes, it was true. Soul's once snowy white hair was now a bright fuschia pink, clashing horribly with his crimson eyes. Throw in the sharp, spiky teeth and he looked like a psychopathic bunny rabbit whose owner had tortured it in a multitude of ways. He looked like some bunny rabbit Stein would have wanted to dissect.
"…So uncool Maka. You didn't have to point it out."
After a few seconds of deep breathing, Maka regained her composure. Remembering how her Mom had acted whenever her father came home drunk, she placed a hand on her hip and pointed an accusing finger at him.
"Soul Eater Evans, why in Shibusen did you dye your hair pink?"
Soul raised his hands defensively. "It wasn't supposed to be pink! The label said black…"
Maka raised an eyebrow. "Explain exactly how 'black' became 'blinding pink'?"
The scythe just looked at the door, causing Maka's face to fall. "Soul… please tell me you didn't buy the cheapest dye instore…" When no reply came, the girl facepalmed.
"Okay, just… " she sighed. "Well, the good news is that it'll probably come out in a week, considering its low quality. The bad news is you're going to be stuck with pink hair for at least a week. Aww, look, now the steak's burnt…" she waved a hand for Soul to leave. "Oh, and remember, it's your turn to do the laundry."
"Sure you don't want to come?" Maka asked to a moping Soul. The boy just grunted and switched the channel.
Okay, so maybe he wouldn't feel ready to appear in public with his rosy mop of hair yet. But Soul was just being paranoid. All the curtains in their apartment were drawn, not a crack between them. And he was refusing to communicate with the outside world in any way. Blair, who was playing with strands of his hair- apparently, she found it 'cute'- said that she wasn't going either. Maka groaned.
"I'll be back in an hour. And remember to do the laundry."
Another inhuman sound. Maka closed the door, then grinned to herself. She had an idea.
That night, when Soul had finished his food and retreated into his room, Maka smirked. This was going to be interesting.
Soul punched his alarm clock, then groaned. He hated Monday mornings as it was.
Having pink hair made it worse.
All through the night, he'd been debating whether or not to lock himself in the bathroom again, but had decided against it. Okay, so it wasn't cool to have pink hair, but it was even lamer to be stuck in a bathroom with nothing to do.
Dragging himself out of bed, he went to knock on his partner's door.
"Maka? Where's the laundry?"
There was some shuffling on the other side of the door, then a reply. "On the sofa."
With a grunt, the boy went into the living room. Pawing his way through the clean clothes to find a jacket, he was met with a sight that shocked him.
Slowly, he pulled the monstrosity from the pile with shaking hands. When the fact had truly registered, he let out a roar and charged back to hammer on his meister's door.
"Yeah?" came the unusually calm voice. She obviously hadn't realised he was attempting to beat her door to pulp.
"WHY. THE. FUCK. IS. MY. JACKET. PINK?"
"I don't know. Perhaps a red sock got mixed in?"
Soul's eyes narrowed. Maka would never make a mistake like that. Still, he forced himself to calm down and respond like a cool guy.
"Neither of us own any red socks."
"I heard pink dye can work to."
Soul snarled and reminded himself that slicing up the door would cost too much to replace. "And why would you want to dye my clothes pink?"
"I thought it would complement your hair."
"Maka… seriously, why?"
"Well," Maka responded, opening the door. Soul's anger instantly evaporated, and his jaw dropped in amazement.
"…it was your turn to do the laundry."
Soul could only stare stupidly and squeak. "…What did you…"
Maka laughed and tossed her now lime green hair proudly, her darker eyes sparkling. Despite the wacky colour, it somehow looked undeniably…cool. Yes, cool. "What do you think?"
Her partner couldn't properly reply. "Why on earth did you do that, Maka?"
The girl took a step forwards, one finger twirling her colourful hair, the other pointing at his. She grinned.
AN: What do you think? I wrote this over two nights, so I guess it could have gone better. Review my pretties, review! Even if it's just to say whose hair colour you prefer!