Gomennasai! I've had no inspiration for writing at all…*sigh*. Well, here's another chapter of opposite, I hope you guys like!

Two days later, and what did Maka find herself standing at? Death's door; more accurately, Principal Death's door. Her small backpack that contained the almost non-existent amount of clothing articles she had acquired was slung over her right shoulder, a slightly larger bag grasped in her left hand, and her guitar inside it's case embroidered with bumper-stickers and things alike was hugging her back, blocking the chill from the air. She didn't think, in a million years, that she would have a staring contest with the twins while the tips of her ears almost froze off from the cold.

"Heyo~! Hiya~! How's it going?" Death asked as he appeared - seemingly from nowhere - behind the two sisters.

"What is she doing here?" The taller of the two, Maka couldn't recall her name, whined.

"Maka here is staying with us from now on! Isn't that just great~?"

"No." Maka and the twins replied at the same time, still staring the other party down.

The whole time this was going on, Maka kept wiggling her toes in her boots and twitching her nose - unfortunate habits the girl had obtained over the years. She was thankful for the long-sleeved white shirt she had on, it gave her warmth and covered the artwork that frolicked and danced along her arms.

"Liz, Patty." A deep voice resonated from the stairwell, it's owner commanding attention from the four at the door. "Father, invite our guest in and shut the door. She looks freezing and you're letting the heat out." Even though Kid and his dad didn't care for the heat nor the cold, Liz and Patty hated the cold. Whenever the temperature dropped below 60 degrees, the heat was turned on full-blast.

After the three blocking the door had moved away, Maka took a hesitant step inside, shutting the grand doors behind her. Taking in her surroundings, she noted everything was symmetrical and either white or black, with occasional inflections of gold. Everything looked pristine, expensive, new…it made her skin crawl and her stomach knot.

It made her sick.

She had never wished to be sleeping on Star's futon and playing video games with him more than ever in that moment.

Her hair felt freezing against her face, but she felt the heat rolling on her skin unpleasantly. Every cell in her screamed at her to high-tail it out of the upper-class mansion and dash into the cold, simultaneously immersing herself in the calming air mother natured had granted earth.

"You're Maka Albarn. Am I correct?" The same voice from earlier slithered across the room, wrapped itself around her body and hooked it's fangs into her brain, forever imprinting itself in her memory. "I am Death the Kid. My sisters: Liz and Patty Thompson. And, of course, my Father: Death."

His aura dominated the room, making him appear as the authoritative figure in the room, rather the 40-something year old man dressed in all black. Golden orbs pierced her own emeralds, making her wish she had never looked in his direction, yet at the same time drew her closer and closer to his form - mentally. Physically, she had not moved an inch away from the black double-doors that separated her and freedom.

Realizing she had not given any sign of acknowledgement, she lifted her arm in a wave that held almost no meaning behind it.

"I'll show you to your room." With that, he turned on his heel and strode upstairs, not waiting for any indication of her following.

Deciding that following him would be better than staying with the twins, she trotted up the stairs after the shadow-like man. Man, huh? Boy didn't seem to fit his appearance, and teen contradicted his demeanor.

As she climbed the stairs, Maka couldn't help but recall what had happened yesterday:

"What the fuck are you doing in my house?!" She had yelled, seeing the golden-eyed man looking around her living room.

Maka had decided to head home and see if, by chance, her dad was home. He never was, and the house had no air of family-life or life in general inside the building. No paintings, pictures, awards or such hung on the walls; no plants or decor besides basic furniture stood inside the small house.

Broken beer bottles and cigarette butts, with the occasional unfinished cigar, littered the floors. Lingerie was scattered in between rooms, on the couches, the dining room table…it was pretty pointless to point out every surface that held a thong or bra, since the number was too great. 'Papa' had apparently been home recently, with an unmentionable number of sluts or whores in his wake.

"This is your house? Hmm." Kid had picked up a bra by it's strap, raising an eyebrow towards her. "Didn't know you swing that way."

"I'm not a lesbian, dumbass! What made you think the state of this place is my fault?!"

"You did say this was your house, did you not?" Throwing the undergarment across the room and sanitizing his hand afterwards, Kid waited patiently for her response, his eye ticking from his OCPD kicking in to clean the hell of that place.

"Um...well, my family's name is on the deed, if that's what you're asking." She had looked at her boots, toes wiggling in anxiety.

Silence is what could be heard throughout the near-empty place, until glass crunching under heavy boots filled it. Kid had walked to stand in front of her, and at 6-foot, he was several inches taller than the defensive blondie.

He was about to say something when the door slammed open, revealing a drunken Spirit and some whore from god-knows-where. They stumbled past the pair, glazed eyes accompanied by a fit of giggles and arousal.

Just as the influenced pair had fell on the stairs in their attempt to reach a flat surface, Kid had Maka by the wrist and out the door. "What are you doing!? Hey, asshlole, I'm talking to you!" Maka yelled, digging her heels into the concrete below her.

"That's no place for a high school girl to live." He had a sleek black phone pressed to his ear, which Maka noted looked very expensive.

"Soul? Yeah, it's me. I've got Maka here with me-. Yes, she's fine." While Kid was talking to Soul, Maka was trying to find a way out of the taller man's grip.

"Yes, she will be living with my family at the Gallows." Pause. "Father's orders." Long pause. "I'm glad you understand. Later."

Before she ran into Kid, Maka snapped out of her reverie and looked up at the raven-haired being before her. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't intrigued by him. He was popular, yet not her kind of popular, at school; he was pretty smart, the opposite of her. One thing she wished she had the guts to do was be on her own. Kid was almost always by himself if Liz and Patty weren't with him, and he never minded.

"Here's where you'll be staying." A set of two black doors, similar to the front set, swung open and revealed a single room about the size of two and a half of BlackStar's place. She noted that her room was on the right side of the hall.

Along the left wall, dead set in the middle, was a black desk and symmetrical-looking leather chair. Nailed to the wall above said desk was a set of eight bookshelves, in two columns of four, filled to the brim with books that caught her interest and had been aligned by genre and name. Two sets of double doors adorned the wall across from her, one leading to the bath and one to the closet - Maka looked, and yes, it was a huge fucking closet. One if the ones with the loveseat in the center of the room and shelves upon shelves of every style of clothing that you could dream of.

On the right side of the room, slightly raised from the ground was a King sized bed, clothed in a black comforter with white pillows. Some had small gold beads or patterns composed of gold thread.

Two things caught her attention and earned her fascination. A grand piano sat in the center of the room with sheets upon sheets of empty sheet-music, just waiting to be filled with notes. The other was the two giant windows that composed the entire right wall, black velvet curtains hanging like un-trimmed bangs of a teenager going through another one of their 'stages' graced either side of the windows.

Maka walked towards the bed, setting her things down gently and turning to face Kid. But, he was already gone, and in his place on the floor was a white piece of paper. She picked it up, noting the agenda of the house, and traced her fingertips over the curved handwriting. Obviously the note was written by hand and took a long time, and Maka found herself smiling.

One thing caught her attention. Four small words on the bottom of the paper, perfectly in the middle.

Welcome to the Gallows.

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