Drive Me Mad (SoMa-Soul Eater)

Broken Keys

"PLAY!"

The screaming was like nails on a chalkboard. The sensation of ringing in his ears was not a very pleasant one, and yet, it was able to command him. He was at it's beckoned call. It was so farmiler, yet so distant at the time. His blistering fingers danced along the keys, fitting perfectly with the bellicose melody that followed them. There was no air in his lungs, his vision was clouded by darkness, and he no longer had any control over his hands. When would it stop? Would it stop?

Soul wanted it all to stop.

"Hey-" the voice calling out to him sounded as if it was underwater. That had to be his way out. But no matter how hard he tried, Soul could not remove his hands from their masterful melody. He couldn't even unglue his tierd eyes from the piano.

"Wake- Soul!" There it was again. Now his thoughts were starting drift away from him. His mind quickly clearing, as the song sped up.

"SOUL!" The final note rang in his ears, the screeching was gone, vanished without a trace. Leaving pure, uninterrupted silence in its wake.
While Soul's eyes were stuck to the instrument infront of him, he noticed something rather strange. Something that shouldn't of been the way it was.

One of the keys was broken.

The young boy finally regained his bearings, and reached to fix his grand piano. But before he could, his eyes shot open, his head shot forwards, and thick hot liquid slid up his throat.
_________________________________________

"Soul! I've been trying to wake you up for like, ever!" Maka's words, now clear Soul's mind, weren't comprehensible as he flung off his blankets to make a bee line to the bathroom. In his hectic rush, Soul brought a hand to his mouth in an attempt to prevent any mess from making its way to the floor.

"Hey. Soul? What's wrong?" Maka started to follow her partner, calling out behind him. Soul didn't even bother to close the door behind him after he pushed through it with his free hand. The demon scythe bent down over the toilet and scrunched his nose. Out flowed a disgusting mixture of bile and black blood.

"Soul?..." Maka stood in the doorway, eyes wide with concern. She didn't understand. Why was he sick? Would he be okay? Should she take him back to the infirmary?........ Was it the chicken?

"Huh?" The boy in question huffed, pulling his head away from the toilet bowl. Put into simplest terms, Soul was a mess. His hair was matted, dark circles sat prominently underneath his tierd eyes, and he was starting to gag from the smell of his own puke.

"You look terrible." His meister tried to hide her fear with sarcasm and a sad smile.

"Tell me about it." Soul responded when he finally caught his breath. He reach out a shaky hand and slowly flushed the toilet. Maka quietly sat down next him on the cold bathroom floor, pushing her hand onto his forehead.

"What are you doing?" Soul groaned.

"Checking to see if you have a fever, duh." She rolled her eyes at her partners hard headed behavior. That was usually her job. He must be sick.
"Good thing I checked," the young girl pouted as she pulled her hand back to her side, "your not burning up, but it seems like you have a low fever."

"So?" He tilted his head up, Maka could tell he was putting up his "cool guy" front again.

"Soul, you're obviously sick. Everybody gets sick. Stop being a baby about it."

"I'm not gonna miss class cause I'm 'sick' I'm telling you, it's nothing." Now it was his turn to roll his eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me mister!" The meister pointed her finger at her wepon, clearly not ready to give up this small argument. "Now you listen here Soul-"