Title: The Stubborn and the Lost
Day/Theme: May 11 // I could be all that you want and more
Character/Pairing: Soul, Maka, Soul/Maka
A/N: Subtle hints at Soul/Maka, because they are an awkward kind of love. Also, renaming the fic because I hate this title.
Summary: They are hopelessly lost and it's. All. Maka's. Fault.
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Maka, Soul thinks, is ridiculously stubborn. In fact, there are no words to describe how stubborn she is. Any attempts fail, her stubbornness is too hard to contain in mere words. No, it has to be experienced to be fully appreciated.

They are trudging through a forest right now, her usually black coat in tatters. It trails behind her like broken wings, twigs and grass matting the surface. Her skin is a dark murky colour, except for her face, where the red speckles (the start of poison ivy?) is starting to appear.

She's a lost cause, all right. They've been in this forest for hours, following the direction she chose, and she won't let him just tell her the right direction.

She even refuses to try and fly out.

Why the hell is he paired with a mule? An ugly one at that? If she looked a little more than Tsubaki, he would be happy to trail after her--hmm...that's a nice idea.

"I think we're nearly there," she states and he resists the urge to reply, You said that an hour ago. And then an hour before that.

He settles with rolling his eyes. It's less risky, he thinks, watching the book in her hand warily. She hasn't let go of it yet. Some sort of fairytale, perhaps. She likes to read the older versions, the heavy tomes full of dark stories that creep and crawl into nightmares.

Her feet must be killing her at this point. His are. And she has it worse, her shoes need to be replaced soon, the soles almost worn through.

When they return, he'll probably have to force her to buy a new pair already. She'd probably forget otherwise.

"I think we need to turn right."

"We're going in circles."

Maka turns around, her eyes short slits as she hisses, "I know where I'm going."

"...right. That's what you said when we turned right last time. And the time before that." Really, shouldn't he be the lost one? With guys refusing to ask for directions and all that?

Maybe Maka is more like a boy than she let on.

Then again--

"Those...were to gather my bearings. I know where I'm going." She almost pouts, she's so put out, but she's Maka. She doesn't pout. She gets angry and she gets revenge, but there are no cute pouts. "Do you doubt me?"

The raised hand, textbook high in the air, persuades him to shake his head. With a satisfied grin, she turns around and promptly marches in the direction she decided on.

Soul sighs again, realizing it will probably be another hour or two before she gives up. Glancing up, trying to see past the foliage at the blue sky, he sees the sun is directly above him. It's midday almost, and if she doesn't stop for lunch, she'll only stop for dinner.

Or at least, she'll stop when it gets too dark to see.

(He hopes.)

Shifting in his pockets, he pulls out a chocolate bar, leaving its mate in his pocket for Maka, and follows his partner.

She's lucky he's patient enough to follow her like this.

(She's lucky he's hers.)

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