Author's Note: I have been a fan of Soul Eater for quite a while and have been juggling around the idea of writing fanfiction about it for a few years now, but this is not how I imagined my first online tribute to one of the largest contributors to my love of anime and manga would turn out. However, when I saw that one two page paneliin chapter 110 of the manga, I knew this had to be written.
Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Soul Eater in any way, shape, or form. If I was, there would have been quite a few changes in the "Salvage" arc.
Edit: By now I should know better than to only check over my work thrice. I found a few errors, and I hopefully fixed them.
The term "circle of life" is fascinating. A circle, by definition, has neither a beginning nor an end; it is simply a revelution in which every point is equidistant from the epicenter, the origin. If this definition is superimposed on the theoretical circle of life, it can cause some confusion. Most people see existence as something linear; everything is born, everything dies. It's simple and poetic, leaving little for the curious mind stumble upon that would cause confusion or fright. Perhaps the circle of life is simply a collection of every living thing's timeline, sewn together endlessly by the nimble fingers of reality itself.
For Shinigami, life could not be measured on a line, as it lacks a tangible beginning. Not even his children, Death mused as he watched his creations battling, could have an actual genesis, as they were merely extensions of himself. No, for a Shinigami, life was indeed a circle, three in fact, and his was almost at an end. It's an amusing little paradox to be standing at the edge of something that is literally endless, but that was his predicament as he observed the son he had nurtured and allowed to grow make the final decision to complete the circle.
Circles are peculiar things, really. A circle cannot have a beginning, but it must have an origin. What that origin would be in the grand scheme of things, not even Shinigami-sama could begin to contemplate. What he did know was that he had no time to begin anything. As the third line drew closer and closer to completion, he himself drew closer and closer to demise. The cracks that already marred his mask grew into fissures as he continued to watch the birth of a new circle unfold. He was not afraid; he no longer had the ability to be. Neither was he sad; he had lived a literal eternity, and he had plenty of time to prepare himself for the ironic prospect of his death.
When the final connection was made made and the circuit had been completed, all he could feel was pride in his son, who had overcome such odds, and hope for the next revolution of the circle of life.
His mask split and crumbled away.
Kid was going to make an excellent shinigami, and although he would not be there to witness it, he was certainly looking forward to what the future would hold.
A deep shudder ran through his form like a newborn's first breath of air, and with that death incarnate faded into oblivion, leaving behind a simple pile of ashes waiting patiently for the next generation to arrive and draw circles in the soot.