Disclaimer: I don't own anything - not Soul Eater, not Motion City Soundtrack, not even a toaster :'(
Please Tell Me That You're Alright -
(Please note; I've taken some liberties with the series so, while this story is not strictly canon, I have done my best to stay true to a mixture of the anime and manga universes.)
"Give me a reason to end this discussion,
To break with tradition, to fall and divide."
- Motion City Soundtrack
It happened on a Wednesday, an entirely ordinary and otherwise inconsequential Wednesday. The sun was beating down on his uncovered neck and the humid air was choking as he shuffled to his mailbox, extracted a handful of envelopes from inside, and began to unceremoniously riffle through them. Bills. Bills. Bills. Another of Marie's biannual issues of 'Moderncat: The lifestyle magazine for modern cats and their companions!'.
Soul was still mentally cursing Marie's little-known obsession with cats and her inability to cancel her subscriptions – really, as if people needed any more reasons to think he was weird - when a large handwritten and floral themed envelope caught his eye. He transformed his index finger and tore open the covering to unearth a similarly floral themed rectangle of embossed paper.
Tsubaki Nakatsukasa
and
Black Star
Joyfully invite you to share
in their happiness
as they unite in marriage
Soul's first thought was whether or not Tsubaki would take the surname 'Star' now. His second, and mildly incoherent, thought was whether 'Star' was even technically a surname. His third, and arguably most pertinent – or was it petulant? – thought was that he really, really, hated Wednesdays.
Sure, he'd known this was coming; Black Star was unfortunately good at racking up Soul's phone bills to keep him posted on all aspects of his godly life. And it wasn't that he wasn't happy for two of his closest friends to finally be tying the knot. It wasn't even that he was jealous of their happiness, which, if he was going to be honest with himself, he probably was. It was just that, he didn't think he was quite ready to face his past or, more specifically, the part of his past that he had spent the last 4 years diligently keeping buried in the darker recesses of his mind, pigtails and all.
'Well, well, well.' A raspy voice interrupted Soul's train of thought. 'It's good to see you're still just a pitiful coward, hiding underneath that title of yours, Mr. Death Scythe.'
"Shuddup, I don't have time to deal with your shit right now" Soul growled, slamming the mailbox door shut and heading back towards his house. He did his best to shove Little Ogre out of his brain, focusing instead on the promise of air conditioning and the leftover sushi waiting for him inside. Since becoming a Death Scythe and the defeat of Asura, the black blood had all but vacated Soul's body, destroying the Black Room and leaving behind only a very diminished and manageable, albeit still highly annoying, version of the Little Ogre.
'Aw, can't even spare a few minutes for an old friend? What's keeping you so busy? Sulking? Or perhaps you've finally taken an interest in reading all those magazines and becoming a crazy cat lady after all? Because we both know it certainly isn't your post here in Oceania. The most exciting thing that's happened to you in the last 5 years was when that sugar glider flew into your face and you thought you were being attacked by a pre-kishin!' The Oni dissolved into a fit of hysteric laughter, causing Soul to grimace at the less than pleasant memory of one beheaded marsupial and the intense looks of fear he had received from his neighbors.
"You're no friend of mine." He spat under his breath, mentally willing the incessant cackling to fade into background noise.
When he was originally told that he would be taking over the post as Death Scythe of Oceania, Soul had fantasized about exaggerating the lingering effects of the black blood and telling Death the Kid that he was far too unstable to be away from Maka's Anti-Demon Wavelength. It had seemed pointless to him to be stuck filling Marie's old post when the treaty between the Witches and Shibusen meant Death Scythes were obsolete and the need for DWMA forces had been practically eliminated in most areas of the world.
Unfortunately, as Kid had made clear when first asking Soul to take up the position, there was still much work to be done. While the old DWMA system of branches run by Death Scythes and their Meisters would need to be changed, such an overhaul could not be done overnight. The new Shinigami had patiently stated that, although he had hoped to avoid setting Soul up in charge of a branch so soon after becoming a Death Scythe and the events on the moon, the defection - and death - of Justin Law and the destruction of Feodor & Tsar Pushka had left the DWMA's forces spread thin.
Up until that point, Soul had been confused as to why his good friend had seemed so apologetic. Sure, Soul hadn't been thrilled at the prospect of relocating, but he'd never really been that attached to Death City and most of his friends had been planning to relocate after graduation anyways.
But then Kid went on to add that, because the DWMA was trying to move towards a peace-keeping role, it would be, as Kid had said, "paramount that all Meisters enrolled at the academy learn to use Soul Perception in order to effectively monitor for possible disturbances." To Soul's ever mounting sense of horror, the new Shinigami had gone on to explain that Maka's powerful and extensively developed Soul Perception, combined with her propensity for all things academic, made her the most ideal candidate for the role.
Keeping up a professional air, the Shinigami had gone on to confirm what Soul had been quickly coming to dread. Oceania was known to be a manageable branch for weapons without Meisters and, as Maka would be required to stay located at the DWMA for her new position, Kid had felt it was Soul's best option.
Soul still vividly remembered standing awkwardly in the Death Room, the hands in his pockets clenched tightly to avoid any telltale trembling as he had listened to Kid justify the details of what he could only see as his own personal death sentence. It was in that moment, that he had become painfully and far too belatedly aware of how desperate he was not to be separated from his Meister.
And yet, despite how appealing the idea of dishonestly playing on his tendency towards madness had sounded, he hadn't been able to go through with it. Maybe it had been because of how apologetic Kid's eyes had seemed. Soul liked to tell himself that it was because he was and had been above such childish and selfish behavior, but a small part of himself was aware that the real reason had probably had more to do with the fact that Kid's Soul Perception would have seen right through such an embarrassing lie.
6 years earlier
"Soul, I truly regret having to put this on you." Kid spoke from his seat, looking imploringly at his good friend.
"Does Maka know?" Soul's response sounded harsh, reverberating in his head like white noise.
"Yes. I just spoke with her this morning. I thought it would be best to break the news to each of you individually."
"And – what did she say?"
"She was understandably taken by surprise and asked to speak with you before making her final decision." Kid regarded his dear friend before beginning cautiously, "While I can not force either of you to accept the positions you have been offered, I implore you to think of what, in the long run, would be best for yourselves as well as the DWMA. I will need both of your final decisions by the end of the week. If you do choose to accept your new offer, you will be expected in Oceania by next Monday." Kid finished calmly, giving Soul an earnest look as he stood to see the clearly rattled Death Scythe out.
"Psht. Whatever." Soul muttered angrily grabbing his leather jacket from the back of his own chair as he stood jerkily and stumbled his way through the guillotines that lined the exit of the death room. Never before had they felt so entirely appropriate to his mood.
He found himself at his apartment hardly even aware of how he had gotten there. Feeling oddly numb, he unlocked the door and entered to find Maka sitting serenely on the couch.
"Hey." She said in a carefully neutral voice when she spotted him.
"Hey." He responded with a sinking feeling that she had already made her choice - and that it didn't include him.
"Listen, Maka I -"
"Soul -" They started at the same time.
"Sorry, you go." Soul said, gesturing vaguely with his hand.
"I just think this is a great opportunity for both of us and it would be really inconsiderate of us to turn down these positions after everything that Kid has done for the academy and for us." Maka blurted out in one breath. She inhaled loudly as she locked her large green eyes with Soul's somber burgundy gaze. There was so much he wanted to say but he didn't know how to respond and he couldn't seem to look away so he just held her stare and shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Soul? What do you think?" Maka finished timidly.
He let out an agitated sigh and raked his fingers through his hair. "What do you want me to say? I don't know what to tell you Maka. I just- I mean- do you even want to be a teacher? I thought your dream was to be a 3 star Meister and surpass your mom's legacy?"
"Soul I am a 3 star Meister, and I made you into a Death Scythe, just like I- just like we always wanted. Besides, dreams can, you know... change..."
Soul wasn't buying her bullshit, he knew she loved fighting and being a part of the action more than anything. He was about to call her out on her obvious cover when he noticed the defeated slump of her shoulders, the way she seemed to be folding in on herself.
"Is this really what you want?" He asked instead. She was, after all, still his Meister in that moment. Far be it from him to do anything but follow her lead.
"Yes." Her voice was small.
"Alright, then I guess we should uh- let Kid know…" He figured being the one to tell Kid was the least he could do for her in the last few moments of their partnership. So, as he slowly headed for the bathroom and blew on the mirror to etch those all too familiar numbers into the fog, he tried to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to do and everything - everyone - that he was about to give up.
42-42-564
Whenever you want to knock on Death's door.
A/N: Let me know what you think!