Shards of a Shooting Star
A collection of drabbles about Eira Ratienta's (OC) life, up until meeting her current Meister, Adil.
Based loosely in A Strange World canon.
Eira belongs to me, Sara, Adil, and A Strange World belongs to ObeseOrange. I do not own Soul Eater, nor do I intend on making any money on this piece 'o crap.
Chapter One
One Tail for Sorrow
"Dad, why do I have to live with mom?" I asked for what felt like the hundredth time that car ride. My face was pressed up against the window, my cheek slightly cold due to the AC turned up full blast, and I was playing with a small red ribbon in my lap. The man driving, my father, chuckled as he reached to turn down the music, a forced sound that did nothing to quell my fears.
"I told you, Shinigami-sama is sending me on a mission. I can't very much decline." I sighed, nodding my head slowly, the answer not making me feel much better. I hated it when dad went on long missions to different countries with his Meister. The man he partnered up with also happened to be his brother and my uncle, Dominique. I glanced at my dad from the corner of my eye. His hair was the first thing that stood out, a bright shade of red that rivalled the color of blood. It was long for a boy's, choppy and tickling the base of his neck in thick spikes that never seemed to need combing.
The next thing that someone noticed was his charcoal eyes, almond-shaped and set in a kindly way. Those same red spikes tended to hang in front of his eyes, shadowing them and hiding his true emotions from the world, while keeping up a mask of ease. I liked to imagine that I looked more like my dad, with my sharper features and my own auburn hair. It was not nearly as bright as Dad's, but I was proud of my shoulder-length brick red hair all the same. It marked me as something different in Death City. I fiddled with the ruby red ribbon in my hand some more while the sound of heavy drums covered up the silence between me and my parental figure. Dad liked hard rock. So did I.
The color red summed up my dad's personality. He was a Demon Weapon, a sword to be exact. Swords were fairly uncommon in the world of Meisters and Weapons, so I hoped I would inherit this form from my dad, instead of turning out a Meister, like my mom. Dad was always joking about, pulling pranks on me, giving me impromptu lessons on Souls and Kishin Eggs, and just spending time with me. He was lively, a man among men, and my role model. I wanted to be just like dad. Even if he wasn't a Death Scythe, he was still strong, and I loved him.
Even if Mom didn't.
The car slowed to a stop in front of a brick, brightly lit building, the only clean one on a street of dirty warehouses. The sign advertised it was a bar, called the Dead Bull Bar, and that it was not open. I was confused. I thought I was going to live with mom. Why was dad stopping here? I looked over to my redheaded father, but the door slammed shut, hiding him from view. I frowned, wrapping my ribbon around my wrist and opening the door, peering over the roof to see where he went. I saw brush-fire red locks bouncing over the popped trunk, before dad straightened, my luggage in hand. My frown deepened, my mind unable to wrap itself about what was going on.
"Well, help me out here Kiddo. Can't do this all by myself." The confusion resolved itself into a sudden, clear thought. This was where mom lived. I pushed open the door with my legs, sprinting around the back to grab one of the smaller pieces of luggage.
"Mom lives here?" I asked, my voice quiet as I struggled to pull along a rolling bag while balancing two others. I preferred to do a lot of work by myself, pull my own weight. I was thirteen, but I could already beat most kids my age into submission, if I felt the need. Hell, I wasn't even in the Academy yet! I could only guess what I'd learn there.
"Yeah. She owns the place. Don't talk to strangers, I don't want you in the bar too late, and don't bother your mom while she's working." He stated simply, and for a moment, I swore I heard a bit of pain in his voice.
"Dad..." I started, dropping one of my bags in front of the door, "Do you still love Mom?"
It was a question that had been bothering me for months. Why did my friends have both parents, while I only lived with one? I didn't understand Dad's explanations of 'I'll tell you when you're older' or 'You're too young to understand just yet'. He said, late one night after returning from a mission, that he and mom were separated 'cause Mom didn't love him. Back then, I didn't understand that. Weren't Moms and Dads supposed to love each other?
"Yeah..." The heavy sigh that escaped my father's lips told me he was thinking of the same thing. "I do. But don't let me ruin your summer with Mom. Try to make a few friends while you're here. There's a lot of kids here that'll be going to the Academy once the next term starts. Maybe you'll find your own partner ahead of time, who knows."
I nodded, and watched with wide eyes as my dad knocked on the thick, heavy wood. I heard a yell from the other side, and I gulped, not sure what to expect. I didn't remember Mom. I never met her when I was little. All I had were the stories Dad told me of when they were Weapon and Meister, until something happened to make them split. Dad paired up with his brother. Mom paired up with another weapon I didn't know.
"Yuki, open up already! It's me." This time, dad pounded on the door, and I flinched back. There was a mumbled curse from the other side of the door, before it opened, and I gaped.
Mom was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. Her hair, curly like mine, was a beautiful ebony black and flowed loose down to her mid-back. Her eyes, twin sparkling amethyst, looked as if someone had taken the color of twilit clouds and contained it in two orbs. Her figure was nice, muscular, probably from wielding a Weapon in her younger days. I, on the other hand, had not inherited that lovely figure belonging to my mother, nor had I gotten the full purple hue of her eyes. No, how could this woman be my mother? She looked to be in her twenties, not her late thirties, like my dad claimed.
Her face was a perfect mask as she regarded my father. Those beautiful eyes were emotionless, much like tyhe gemstones they appeared to be. I took a small step in front of him and Dad grinned, patting my head. She looked down at me, and her face lit up like a Christmas tree on full display. It had not been a very good impression.
"Eira, this is your mother, Yuki. Say hello." I could hear the slight strain in Dad's voice. He was trying to keep his cool.
"Good evening." I supplied politely, slipping behind a small smile. It was a device I used to hide my true emotions, and it normally worked like a charm.
"Well well, it's a pleasure. Please, come in, both of you. Have either of you eaten yet?" Mom bent to give me a hug, her aim unsure, despite her seemingly calm surface. I shook my head no, and Dad laughed sheepishly, a hand on my shoulder as she straightened and led us inside.
"No, not yet. Shinigami-sama wants me at the Academy in less than a half hour, so I didn't have time to make anything." I tuned out the conversation rather quickly, looking around the front of the bar. The room itself was long, and it stretched to my right probably about twenty-five feet, and only about fifteen feet deep. The ceiling was high, lamps and fans hanging from the slats used for it, and the room was cut by a large brick arch, separating the bar area from the seating area. The bar top had a ledge hanging over it, and was well-kept, barrels of extra stuff on top of the ledge. I saw a mop out, and I assumed she was closed at the moment. Well, it wasn't even four yet. She probably opened at five.
The wall to my left was covered by a chain link fence, behind it a bull motif covered the wall. Fliers and posters were tacked to the fence, and continued up onto the face of the ledge and behind the bar top. Among it was pictures, well dusted and hung in nice frames. I would have to take a better look at them later.
"Well, it's time for me to get going. I'm expected at the Academy in less than a half-hour." Dad's words broke into my thoughts, and my heart seemed to freeze in my chest. Suddenly faced with the thought of him leaving, I was petrified, unable to accept that I would be living with this strange woman for the next two months. Looking up at Dad with my best teary look, I threw myself at him, crusting his ribs in a fierce hug.
"Come home safe." I mumbled into the fabric of his shirt, clutching it tightly. I didn't want him to go. I didn't want him to get hurt. I didn't want to loose my dad. I felt his reassuring arm around my shoulders, and the faint clink of metal as something was put around my neck.
"I'll be back, I swear." I released my death-grip on him, and looked down at what he gave me. It was a necklace, silver in color, with a carved crystal of purple. The image of a small flower was carved upon it's face. It was simple, but very beautiful.
"You'd better come back, Diego. You still owe me one last mission." I heard from over my shoulder. In my small, immature mind, I understood on a deeper level just how dangerous this mission would be. Just why he was going on it, instead of a Death Scythe, was a question that would bother me for years to come.
He walked out the door, into the slowly developing night.
Alright, had to fix this up after uploading. How did I not notice it hadn't saved? Oops.