Chapter 1: Leaving
There were two things Soul "Eater" Evans didn't enjoy at all: reminiscing and drinking. Yet here he was, downing a beer and wondering where all the time had gone. The 3-year anniversary of the Battle on the Moon and the defeat of Asura was tomorrow, and Soul couldn't help but feel a grand sense of irony about the event.
The Last Death Scythe, the symbol of the DWMA's future. The coolest goddamn dude in Death City. And I'm the one looking back at the past.
He really couldn't help himself though. Between all the batshit insanity going on during the days of Spartoi and the always-present sense of doom, those were the best years of his life. He and Maka had been an unstoppable team back then, and he doubted anyone would disagree. There was a reason he was one of the youngest Death Scythes in history, after all. He had a kick-ass meister (though he wouldn't say that to her face) and they were always in sync.
Kid was planning the party of the century for the event, and everybody at the DWMA was invited. The day marked the anniversary of a new era for the school, after all, and Kid had made sure to plan celebrations as meticulously as only he could for the occasion. Luckily for Soul, he had succeeded in avoiding the draft to help prepare – not like he didn't have anything better to do. But tonight seemed like a night to wallow in his self-pity before being forced to attend tomorrow and having to see everyone.
"Ready for another drink, Soul?" The bartender came over to the last customer of the night with a look that hid an ounce of concern, but he was clearly happy to have the business. Soul had been one of his most loyal regulars, after all.
"Nah, I gotta get home before I'm too wasted to drive."
"You can't call anyone to come give you a lift?"
Soul just shrugged as he paid off his tab and quickly walked out the door with a swagger that didn't betray his melancholy, then hopped on his motorbike to head back home.
Driving through this city gave Soul conflicting feelings normally, but this evening he felt more torn than ever over his adopted home town. It made him who he was – when he ran away from the East Coast and reinvented himself as Soul Eater, weapon at the DWMA, the city became a key part of his identity. It seemed to burn bright with life and excitement, and it enthralled him in a way that life back home never could have. But lately, it seemed to suck what life it had given him right back out as he wandered the streets on nights like this. He couldn't help but feel cooped up. And after he became the Last Death Scythe, he was tied to the city even more than he had been previously. He was trapped, that was the only way to look at it.
As Soul reached his apartment and walked inside, it was hard to ignore the deafening silence that seemed to envelope the room – he tried, of course, but never could find the will to forget about it. It had a standard of living equatable with any other self-proclaimed bachelor pad in the city: clothes strewn everywhere, dishes piling up, and the lethargy in which its sole inhabitant lived. He flicked on the lights and made a beeline for his room, where he pulled an old guitar from the closet and did a half-assed tuning job before strumming a few chords.
He laid down on his bed and plucked a simple little melody he heard that morning while on his way to the DWMA. It wasn't much, but it had an exotic feel to it that had intrigued him at the time. As he played, he tossed around an old idea in his head, one that came back from time to time: he should just leave. Next chance he got. Traveling the world for a year or so didn't sound too bad to him, and given his level of isolation outside of work he doubted anyone would even notice. Hell, the party would be as good a time as any to do it. He could go to the party, make sure Kid gets a few drinks, then talk him into letting his premier weapon pick up and leave.
The reaper still had Spirit, after all, who had yet to retire much to Soul's irritation. In fact, he wasn't sure he could find a way that anyone even needed him here except as a figurehead for the successes of the DWMA. Death knows that there were plenty of other people to do the menial work while he was gone. He knew the friends he had here all cared, but lately he couldn't believe it. Over the last year he had truly felt alone for the first time since coming to Death City. Before then things had been great, but suddenly he no longer saw the students he had fought with – he saw adults trying to find their place in a world without the need for warriors, who were discovering their own uniqueness. It felt like he saw them one day and forgot what had initially connected them so long ago.
As Soul pondered his dumb idea of the day, it began to seem less and less dumb. Hell, it was almost beginning to sound smart. It wasn't unrealistic, he knew that much. And as he began to drift to sleep, he couldn't help but think he should just go for it.
It was a standard evening in Death City; the sun wasn't quite ready to stop being oppressively bright, and life seemed to be moving along remarkably well for a city in the middle of nowhere. Soul was walking up the steps of the DWMA in his signature pinstripe suit and red dress shirt, but they weren't liberating now like they were in the black blood dreams (Maka had laughed when he decided to buy one in real life, but even she didn't disagree that it looked pretty damn good). It only felt constricting in the heat.
He hated parties with a burning passion, and Kid knew that, but it would've been wrong for him not to attend, considering he was pivotal to the event it was commemorating. So after some convincing on Kid's part, he had sucked it up and agreed to appear, though Soul seemed to question his motives for doing so. Lately, he had felt like the figurehead of Kid's new agenda as Lord Death, which by all means was a good one, but an agenda nonetheless. It was the same reason Soul had been kept in Death City so much, too preoccupied with Death Scythe work at the DWMA to even think of doing missions with Maka. Her and Black Star seemed to get all the fun lately.
Soul suddenly felt a slap on his shoulder, and turned around to come face to face with the one and only blue haired meister, with Tsubaki right beside him. Speak of the devil, he thought.
With his usual enthusiasm, Black Star began "Heya Soul, we were wondering if you'd even show up! I actually thought you were just gonna disappear on us like normal for the night but-"
Tsubaki gave him a swift elbow that was less subtle than she surely thought, and without skipping a beat he took the hint and shifted his tone a bit. "Anyways, glad you could make it, I'm gonna steal the mic from Kid tonight and proclaim to all how great the amazing Black Star is and-"
Soul cut him off as well, to save them all from the agony of a signature Black Star rant. "Yeah, great, but you know there's some kids over there that look like they'd love your autograph."
Black Star's head immediately jerked to where Soul was pointing. "WHERE? I'll be right back Soul, this is important." He quickly took off, and Soul shook his head and laughed. He couldn't believe the guy sometimes. He looked back at Tsubaki and saw she had a similar expression on her face.
"So how's life been treating you two?" Soul asked. He hadn't talked to the two of them in a few weeks as they had just recently returned from a mission in Argentina, so it was a nice chance to catch up.
"We've been doing good, thanks. Black Star's the same as ever," she said with a small smile. "How have you been holding up lately?" She had a subtle, worried frown on her face as she spoke this time. The woman was too perceptive for her own good, Soul thought, and too motherly - but he always appreciated her kindness. Though the two never talked much, they shared an unmistakable bond that seemed to be a commodity lately.
"Yeah, listen, if everything goes my way this might be my last night in Death City for a while. If I can get Kid to agree, I'm gonna head out tomorrow and travel abroad for a year or so. I don't think I can keep up this Last Death Scythe gig much longer," he said with a sigh.
Though he may not have stated his reasoning, Tsubaki knew well enough what that was. Things had changed a lot over the last few years, and Soul was hit hardest by it. His job had kept him from missions the whole time, and though she couldn't help but feel a little envious he didn't have to do any fighting, she understood how infuriating it would be to reach Death Scythe status only to stop being able to battle kishin. Under the same circumstances, all of their friends would have gone stir crazy too.
She sighed as well and said, "I guess I understand. But we'll miss you, you know, so don't completely cut yourself off. Maka would-"
"Yeah, well, I don't care what Maka would do." He said those words with a fierceness that made Tsubaki shudder. "I'll keep in touch with you guys, don't worry. You'll know I'm alive."
Black Star, showing surprisingly good timing, showed up to ease the tension, this time with Patty in tow. Soul figured the two were doing whatever it was that they did without any supervision, which was a scary thought even now that they were adults.
"Hey, you weren't kidding, Soul did show up!" Patty came up to him and gave him a hug, which Soul very awkwardly reciprocated – he saw Black Star giving him a shit-eating grin from behind Patty, they all knew that Soul was touchy about personal space but Patty never seemed to mind, much to Soul's chagrin. "How's our favorite death scythe? Here to party it up?"
Soul smiled, Patty's infectious joy never quite got old to him, even after all these years. "Hell yeah, you know it!" It was one of his more egregious lies, but Patty didn't need to know that.
The group walked into the ball room, and even Soul was impressed by the extravagance of the decorations. Kid had really outdone himself, and they all knew that wasn't an easy feat. Though his issues with OCD had always been rough on him, no one could deny it makes him an outstanding party host. And standing right in the middle of the spectacle were Kid, Liz, and Maka, who seemed to be discussing something, though he couldn't quite tell what.
Soul walked up to them and uttered a quick, "Kid. Liz. Maka. Sup." The thought of talking to Kid was getting to him, making him terser than he'd like, and he wasn't sure how well they'd take his little idea either.
Maka was clearly hurt by his quick, cold introduction, and Soul couldn't help but notice Kid squeeze her hand a bit. And there goes the power couple, Soul thought bitterly. He wasn't the type to get jealous, but the sight of those two made his stomach lurch. When Maka first told him of their relationship a year and a half ago, Soul was beyond angry, but stomached it and simply wished her well. He was a calm, collected guy, no reason to let that end. He just hoped they wouldn't last long so he could make the move he had always wanted to make.
Of course, the universe decided to act against that wish. They lasted all right, and ten months ago Soul had to watch her pack her things and move in with Kid. Soul regarded this moment as the divider of his current life as a Death Scythe: pre- and post-move. He realized that in retrospect he had become a terrible partner after the news finally sank in, but that didn't stop him from grasping onto that moment as the nail in the coffin for his mental health and isolation. And here she was with the one responsible.
Soul kept his face serious, and looked squarely at Kid. "Hey, Kid, can we talk for a minute in private?" His original plan may have been to get the man drunk first, but now that Soul was here there seemed like no point to it. This was the kind of conversation you don't beat around the bush to get to.
"For the last time Soul, at least call me Lord Death around all these people. You know I don't use Kid anymore."
Soul just grinned and motioned over to a secluded corner with some spare chairs sitting around. Soul had never been the verbose type, especially not now, so the two walked over in silence before taking their places.
"Look, Kid, I'm going to cut the shit and talk to you about this. I want to get out of this city. Wait, no. I need to." Kid looked absolutely dumbfounded and made no attempt to interrupt. Looks like I'm going for the shock and awe tactic, thought Soul.
"I'm going to go crazy if I don't find some room to breathe, you know that better than anyone by now. Let me go travel for a year or two."
Kid was still clearly trying to process the bomb that had been dropped, but Soul could only imagine that Kid wasn't surprised. He probably just hadn't expected something like this to rear its head on such a celebratory day.
"What makes you think I can even make this happen? You're going to be the last Death Scythe, why in hell would I let you go like this?"
"Look, don't act like you really need me, Lord Death." Soul tried to make those last words sound playful but he was pretty sure they only came out as caustic. Whoops. "You've still got Spirit, and I'll bet you anything he'll avoid retirement just to spite me at this point. Set me up with a post in Oceania for all I care, I'd barely see any action and you still get to show off your star weapon in whatever publicity stunt the DWMA is pulling next."
"For the love of death," Soul snickered at the irony of what Kid had just said but he didn't seem to notice, "it's just recruitment practices. Alright, look. How the hell am I going to get you back when I need you?"
"It's easy, I'll keep a crisis line just for you, red phone and everything. When your world is ending hit me up any time and I'll come save you."
Kid looked at him with a newly collected demeanor and tried to ignore Soul's trademark bragging before replying in a calm voice, "I don't see why not. I suppose you deserve it, after all. I'll change your assignment from Death City to, well, something. Oceania perhaps, like you suggested."
Soul breathed a sigh of relief and patted Kid on the back. "Knew I could count on you. We'll figure it out tomorrow and then I'll head out."
Kid's jaw dropped once again. "Tomorrow?" But Soul was already long gone to where the food was situated. The rest of the night went smoothly, and Soul actually wound up enjoying himself for the evening, to his amazement. Up until he was leaving and bumped into Maka outside the doors of DWMA.
"Oh, sorry Maka, didn't see you there," Soul said with a blank expression on his face.
"SORRY?" Oh boy. This didn't sound like it was going well. She had obviously had one too many drinks, likely after Kid had dropped the news on her. "Were you going to tell me at some point that you were planning on LEAVING DEATH CITY?" Maka slapped Soul hard across the face with a look that would leave even Black Star trembling. "What is your problem, Soul? Is your 'lonely, bitter asshole' shtick getting old yet?"
Suddenly, all of Soul's stoicism vanished in an instant. He had never seen her like this, not during a single one of their fights.
Maka continued, "What happened to us? What did I ever do to you? Why won't you talk to me…"
Soul couldn't help but think of his first piano recital, when the entire world seemed to come to a standstill while his parents and a hundred people scrutinized every note he played. It was more terrifying than anything else in the world until this moment, in which he felt just as helpless under Maka's gaze.
"I…" Soul paused; he had no clue what to say. Really, there wasn't anything to say at all. They were both crushed, they cared so deeply about each other, and yet he couldn't even begin to speak the truth. I love you, Maka. So he started walking, and turned around to say the only thing he could honestly mean: "I'm sorry."
A/N: This story was very loosely inspired by the My Chemical Romance song Burn Bright (I know, an angsty fic based on MCR is pretty cheesy). As much as I love SoMa, I was really interested to see how Soul would fair without her - as it turns out, not very well. The fic is eventually going to be SoulxTsubaki, but it's not the center of the story I want to tell so it'll likely come later on. Anyways, please let me know what you think! I've never written fiction before so I'd appreciate any feedback.