A/N: Hey guys! Back from the dead with a Soul Eater fic this time. I had originally written this a long time ago, but I wasn't so sure if I liked it much. So I kind of kept it in the back of my documents folder. A couple of days ago, however, I had one of my random urges to read Black StarXMaka, but I realized there really wasn't all that much to begin with. And the ones that did exist were either grossly OOC or weren't really a pairing at all, they were just friends. See, in my mind, Black StarXMaka has just as much legitimacy as KidXMaka or ChronaXMaka. They were childhood best friends after all, and even though they fight and bicker big time, whenever one of them is in trouble, you can always see how much they care for each other.

I don't know, that's just my two cents. But the lack of really awesome fanfiction dedicated to this pair reinspired me. I revised the hell out of this thing, and it's STILL not perfect, but I wanted to make sure I posted this before my Black StarXMaka craving faded. This takes place in the aftermath of the anime, when everyone's recovering from the battle. I haven't read the manga at all, so it may or may not clash with the manga canon. Oh wells. *shrugs*

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater, the anime nor the manga version.





"Just wait! Once we get into Shibusen, we're gonna be the best freakin' meister-weapon team ever. Everyone will have to bow down to our might!"

"I don't even know if I am a weapon yet, though, Black Star. I certainly haven't shown any weapon-like qualities yet."

"Yeah, but your dad's a Death Scythe. Awesomeness runs in the family. And with the BIG ME by your side, you'll just be even MORE awesome."

"But my mom was a meister. I don't know if I even WANT to be a weapon. I don't wanna be like my dad."

"S-stupid . . . I know that. You won't be your dad though. I'll make you stronger and cooler than he ever was."

". . . really? You promise?"

"Of course. I'm telling you, I can just feel it. We're going to be the strongest team Shibusen has ever seen. We'll have a power that will even defeat god! WE'LL BE UNSTOPPABLE! NYAHAHAHA!"

". . . but Black Star?"


". . . you won't . . . you know . . . hate me if I really don't turn out to be a weapon, right?"

Black Star stopped swinging on the swing when he felt his phone go off. It was a text from Soul. As he fished it out of his pocket, he stared up at the dark sky. It was still a little cloudy and stormy looking, a little residue of madness left over from the recent battle. He tore his eyes from the lazy, laughing sun and read the text message.

[Can you look after Maka for me for a while? I have to pick up some things at the apartment for her. Thanks]

"Ahhhhh," he complained. "That doesn't sound like fun at all. The BIG ME shouldn't be stuck babysitting. It's beneath me."

Black Star lingered a little longer, swinging half-heartedly. After a while though, he forced himself up and brushed himself off. He glanced back at the swing set one last time. When they were kids, Maka and Black Star used to play on the playground all day, almost every day during the summer, with some random Shibusen staff person keeping watch. For Maka, it was because her parents would be out on a mission, so she would be dropped off at Shibusen to be kept safe. For Black Star, it was because there was simply no one else his age to play with, and it was the only time they let him out of his prison-like room.

The swings had always been Maka's favorite.

Jamming his hands in his pockets, Black Star trudged in the direction of the hospital wing. Truthfully, he hadn't been there in a while. He had originally helped move Maka to her room and stayed long enough to learn there was nothing wrong, and then he left without a word. It had been almost three days since. Three days since Maka had defeated the Kishin with her own power.

Three days since Maka, for the briefest moment, unknowingly discovered her weapon powers.

That fact made Black Star's expression harden, his brow furrow deeply until he practically looked like murder as he stalked down the hallways. A couple of students saw him and tiptoed out of his way nervously. But he couldn't be bothered.

Once he reached Maka's room, he slammed open the door a little too forcefully. He heard a squeak from within, and his eyes immediately zoned in on Maka in all of her bedhead glory. When she realized who her visitor was however, she immediately relaxed.

"Jeez, Black Star, what happened to you? Lose a fight?" Maka joked with a tired smile, which made the boy falter in his resolve, ever so slightly. He noticed a magazine in her lap, probably because she lacked her favorite books. Black Star immediately regretted not stopping by the library on the way, but the emotion passed only for a moment. He couldn't stand the library. It made his head hurt just thinking of it.

"Soul told me that you were coming over. I asked him to get me a change of clothes, but he should be back soon," Maka explained easily. Softly. She was too nice. She didn't even understand.

Black Star just stared at her, not moving from the door.

When he didn't budge, Maka started to look uncomfortable. "Umm . . . there's a chair over there, you know. Why don't you come in? I haven't seen you for a—"

"No thanks," he said tersely, not even knowing why.

The girl's eyebrows shot up in confusion. "What's wrong with you? Why are you acting like such a—?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Black Star said, still lingering in the doorway.

"Tell you . . . what?" Maka asked. She looked so small and pathetic on that hospital bed, covered in bandages because she had to clean up what he didn't finish. What he should have finished.

"About the fact that you're a meister . . . and a weapon."

He said it.

Black Star could feel the doorknob giving in under his tight grip. Hopefully you couldn't get charged for destroying a hospital's doorknob. It was either this, or ripping the door off its hinges entirely—an option which he hadn't exactly dismissed yet.

As Maka stared at him in alarm, he gritted his teeth and grunted, "You promised."

"Is that what this is about? I never knew I was a weapon, idiot," Maka stated, trying to keep her voice light and show Black Star that he was making a big deal out of it.

It still felt like betrayal to him, though.

"Professor Stein said that I must have had the genes for a weapon after all, but my meister's genes were so dominant that I never could tell. The only reason why they showed up at all when they did in the battle of the Kishin was because I was unconscious. My body instinctively tried to save itself." After a quick pause, Maka added, "I think the doorknob is pretty much nonexistent now, Black Star."

Black Star could not have let it go so fast if it had spontaneously combusted into flames. He took his first steps into the room, crossed over to Maka's bedside within a few long strides.

"Um . . . Black Star?" Maka said hesitantly when he hovered over her, his face serious. The only time she had ever seen him this intense was when he was facing an enemy. The girl had to resist the urge not to shrink back.

"I could wake them up, you know," he murmured.


"Your powers."

His fingers inched over to her hand, as if he meant to grab her and wield her like the scythe she was.

Maka shook his hand away and quickly hid her own under the covers. "Impossible. How could you do that?"

Then Black Star grinned his signature cocky grin, momentarily going back to his old self. "What are you talking about? This is the 'big me' we're talking about." His voice grew louder as he grew more excited with his 'plan'. "I'm the one who can surpass God. The one who can do anything he wants. If there's anyone who can wake you up, it's me and my wavelength. It would be the equivalent of shouting in your ear when you're trying to take a nap."

"You're already shouting," Maka said with a wince.

"Then I'll be even louder," Black Star exclaimed, and to Maka's chagrin, he leapt on her bed and started shaking her shoulders. "Huh, huh? How's that? Makes you want to Maka-Chop me doesn't it? Oh but wait. There are no books around. Guess you'll have to crack my head open with a scythe, right? Right?"

"Ouch! Black Star, stop! Let go of me already!" Maka cried in annoyance. Lacking ammo, she tried to punch him, but Black Star neatly ducked and caught her wrist. For a moment, neither of them moved.

Finally, Maka swallowed. "Black Star, you already have Tsubaki."

"Who said that there's a limit to the number of weapons you can wield?" Black Star said in a murmur.

"And I already have Soul—" but Maka stopped when she saw Black Star's expression darkening.

"Yes, but for how long?" he challenged.

Maka opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Black Star leaned in a little closer, a scowl on his face. "Soul told me. You two defeated Medusa, didn't you? And you had a hundred souls before then. He's a death scythe now—"

Maka closed her eyes, not wanting to hear the part she had secretly been dreading for a few weeks now.

"—which means soon, he's going to start leaving you to go on missions. Sure, sometimes you'll be able to accompany him, but most of the time, he's going to have to go solo. What are you going to do then?"

"I don't . . . know," Maka admitted slowly.

"Whoa, imagine that," Black Star said sarcastically. "There's a question that Maka doesn't know the answer to. But I know the answer." He squeezed her wrist. Maka hoped it wasn't about to face the same fate as the doorknob. "At least try," he insisted.

Maka opened her eyes and saw only his desperate face. He was closer than she had expected. With a shaky sigh, Maka agreed. "But don't expect too much. I still don't think this could work."

"Whatever," he replied, grinning. "You're in the hands of awesomeness right now. Don't be such a stick-up-the-ass."

Maka was about throw an angry retort at him, but then she felt Black Star's rough, calloused hand cupping her cheek. Instantly, a hot fire lit up Maka's face.

"I made a promise to you, didn't I?" Black Star said, his voice low. He let go of her wrist and took her hand instead. "I was going to make you into a great weapon. We were going to be the strongest team. Don't worry so much. I'll make sure to protect you."

She tried her best to force a tight-lipped smile. "Idiot, isn't it supposed to be me that does the protecting if I'm the weapon?"

"Maka, let's face it. Even if you are in the presence of greatness such as myself, it doesn't mean you're automatically gonna be great. I have a feeling you'll be a lousy weapon at first."

"Thank you for your faith in me."


Maka swallowed hard again when he gave her hand a quick squeeze. It wasn't painful, but for some reason it made her chest feel tight. "I trust you," she barely whispered.

Black Star nodded, satisfied. Then he closed his eyes to concentrate better. And after a while, Maka slowly followed suit, squeezing his hand back. Within moments, she could feel his wavelength coursing down her arm and into her body. She had done a team resonance with him enough that it didn't startle her, but this time it felt a little different. Rougher, with a little more electricity.

But before Maka had time to wonder on just how one turned into a weapon, the door swung open, and the link between Black Star and Maka winked out.

"Da hell happened to the doorknob? Oh, hey Ma . . . ka . . ." Soul trailed off, staring—but not quite seeing—at Maka in the hospital bed, with Black Star on top of her and extremely close.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

Then Black Star laughed obnoxiously at the top of his lungs. While Maka was still stunned at Soul's arrival, he slipped a sharpie out of his pants' pocket and deftly wrote his signature on her forehead.

"What the—BLACK STAR!" Maka shouted, trying to scrub it off.

Black Star only winked and flipped the sharpie in the air a couple of times. "I made sure to grab a permanent marker before leaving the apartment. Now, not only will you get better twice as fast, but you'll never misplace or lose my autograph. You should feel grateful for what the almighty ME has done. Go on. Bow down. You know you want to."

"Just go home already," Maka snapped, attempting to kick Black Star where it would probably hurt for hours, but it failed.

Black Star rolled off of her bed and walked over to Soul, who was recovering. After all, nothing had really happened, right? It was just Black Star being Black Star.

"See you later, man," Black Star said.

Soul grinned and put down one of the bags he was carrying to give him a high-five. "Yeah. Sure thing." And Soul hurried over to Maka, who was fuming and ranting loudly.

Black Star walked out, slipping the sharpie back in his pocket with satisfaction. He really did think Soul was cool, and he really did consider him a friend. But when it came to Maka, no one had rights on her but Black Star.

After all, he had his name on her.