Chapter One: Kai: A Visitor at the American DWMA
If there was one thing I detested more than anything, it was waking up before ten.
Second on the list was meeting new people. Both of which were being done, simultaneously, on a Monday, as if the day didn't already have a bunch of nasty stereotypes associated with it. To be honest, I really did pity Monday. I also pitied they guy that I was standing at the airport waiting to meet because he was not going to get the warmest welcome.
On top of that, it was cold.
I rubbed my arms to keep warm, glancing around at all the other bleary-eyed faces that surrounded me. It seemed my entire class had been duped into thinking this entire escapade would be fun. When teachers threw around words like 'exciting experience' and 'unlock your strength further' one simply could not resist the temptation, it seemed. Hell, why else would we all be here at six in the freakin' morning to meet strangers?
Perhaps I should explain further.
My name is Kai Blair, and I'm a student at the Death Weapon Meister Academy: America (DWMAA for short). As of yesterday my usual meister, Warren Jackson, was being shipped off due to the implementing of a program our esteemed Lord Death has decided to impose on us budding weapons and meisters: The Meister/Weapon Exchange Program. It's designed so that weapons and meisters can get used to different styles of fighting, learn to control their own wavelength, etcetera, etcetera. Quite frankly, I just wanted Warren to get back so we could return to our nightly routine of McDonald's and kishin hunting.
"Flight 564 from Japan has now arrived!" A cheerful voice announced over the intercom. I glared at the ceiling as if it was the reason there was so much noise so early in the morning. Really, I just wanted to collect the dude and get back to my apartment. Not only was I exhausted, by I hadn't had any caffeine of any sort and my patience was wearing thinner by the second,
It was then that I felt it: like a rumbling before a stampede. The calm before the storm. The smoke before the flame. Some primal instinct was shouting at me, telling me to flee for my life before whatever it was got to be, but there was no helping it. As I stood there at the gate, waiting for my borrowed meister to arrive, the doors opened to reveal a very rambunctious, very loud blue-haired boy who promptly burst out of the tunnel and struck what seemed to be an attempt at a valiant pose.
"All hail the might Black*Star!" He shouted cheerfully with a fist-pump. "Don't worry everyone," he smirked, casting his gaze around the crowded airport as if he was the center of everyone's attention – which he wasn't. "A big star like me might just blow your brains out your ears, but I'll go easy on you for now. Make sure you all stay on my good side so you don't have to see my bad side!"
This was my moment, but first I checked the slip of paper that had my new meister's information on it, just in case some small act of mercy had been given and this loud, annoying twat wasn't really the one I was looking for. A trickle of sweat dripped onto my cheek as I looked back up at him, randomly doing a set of push-ups right where he'd been standing, a crowd of people disembarking the plane behind him.
"I hate my life." I groaned, dragging my feet over to the boy and standing over him. Now he had resorted to doing one-handed push-ups on one pinky finger, and was loudly shouting the number of reps he was doing. "Are you Black*Star?"
Blue-Hair paused halfway down and twisted his head up to look at me with big grin on his face, turquoise eyes sparkling. "Yeah, that's me. I should've guessed my name would've spread this far, I am gonna' surpass god, you know."
I gave him a flat look, offering a hand that was ignored as he pushed himself to his feet. It didn't escape my attention that he was actually rather attractive, though his boyish demeanor leaked into his features and made him appear much younger than thirteen. Silently I appraised the boy who would be my meister for the next year: he was wearing a black tank with a cowl that did nothing to hide his idiotic facial expressions, and pants that were several inches past his knees and looked more like parachutes. All he had with him was a duffel bag, so I figured he'd have another bag down at baggage claim that we have to go get. When I asked, though…
"No, this is it!" Black*Star's chest puffed out with pride as if a singular bag for a whole year was an accomplishment – which I supposed it was, but to be proud of it? "Tsubaki always tells me that when we're going on trips we should pack light. Plus, gods don't need a lot of stuff to be amazing!"
His surplus of self-confidence was already giving me a headache.
"Alright, then. There's a car out front waiting for us," I said, turning on my heel without looking behind to make sure he didn't get lost. If only I should be so lucky.
"Hey! I didn't get your name!" He said – or should I say, shouted, because this boy seemed to only have one volume: loud.
"Kai." I answered simply, "Kai Blair. I'll be your weapon for the next year. Super excited and all that shit."
My lack of enthusiasm seemed to shut him up, at least temporarily. It bought me enough time to navigate our way to the where the car was waiting outside and usher him inside quickly. I slammed the door shut behind me, sliding in beside him and giving the driver a quick nod when our seatbelts were buckled. Even after knowing him for so short a time, I had expected Black*Star to say something like "A god like me doesn't need a seatbelt!" but he put it on without a word.
Leaning my head against the headrest, I relaxed my muscles one by one and busied myself with reviewing what little I knew of Japanese culture. Quintessa Nethers, the meister who acted as our head principal, had made it a requirement to get to know the culture that our temporary partners came from, as well as their personal information. Right now I knew a slightly creepy amount about the blue-haired boy next to me. If it were any other circumstance, I would have labeled myself stalker material.
"So," I intoned, lazily opening my eyes and glancing at him, "You're Black*Star, son of White*Star. Original partner Tsubaki, you're training to be some sort of ninja assassin, right?"
"Right! And-"
I quickly cut him off, "And you're gonna' surpass god. You've mentioned."
His eyes twinkled and he gave me another smirk before nodding curtly. Another sigh worked its way out of my chest: this boy and I were going to have a long year if he was a budding assassin. Last I had checked, assassins didn't exactly just carrying around claymores or longbows, and my blade would be a lot different than swinging around some katana. Most meisters would have at least seemed a little nervous at this point, perhaps a little apprehensive about living with someone they'd only just met, but when we pulled up to my apartment complex (conveniently located a mere six blocks from the DWMAA) he faced it with the same cocky grin he'd given every other obstacle. I wondered if there was any time this guy wasn't happy.
"Nice place, you've obviously got more cash than I do back home. Tsubaki and I might as well live in a trailer, for all our house is worth!" He tilted his head back and laughed as if he'd just made the funniest joke in the world.
Ignoring him – again – I pulled my keys out of my pocket and swiped climbed up the steps to my door. The air was stale seeing as I hadn't been there in a few days. Before Warren had gone off to have his own adventure, he and I had taken one last mission together. Ice cream and french fries for dinner four nights in a row, tracked down the a kishin that went by Sasquatch. We'd only just gotten back last night before he had to jet off to the airport.
"Woah," Black*Star grinned, glancing around the living room as he shut the door and took his shoes off. "Someone really likes to take pictures!"
All around, on the walls and shelves and any other place I could find I had placed photos. Many were random photos: the sun shining through the trees, a telephone pole. The majority were photographs of Warren and I. My favorite… I brushed my fingertips over the only picture on the fireplace mantel. It had been the day Warren and I first met, in detention. It'd been his first time and I had brought a harmonica. The teacher was tied to his chair and I sat on the desk, my blue and green tartan shorts riding up to almost booty-short length as I lost myself in the music. You could see a slack-jawed Warren in the mirror, holding a camera near his face, but gaping at me. It was by far the most amateurish photo in the room, but it meant the most to me. It reminded me of why I chose him, of all people.
Our instant friendship. Our bond.
"I used to want to be a photographer," I answered finally, "And my meister is really good with posing on demand. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all!"
"Good. Now it's time for me to show you your room."
I led the ninja down the hall. At the end, I pointed out, was the bathroom. On the left side was my room, the door shut for privacy and 'KEEP OUT' signs plastered all over it in every shape and size. On the right side, I opened the door to reveal a room that, seeing it empty, brought an ache to my heart. All of Warren's stuff was either in storage or with him so we could make room for the meister. "Here we are, all for you."
Black*Star trotted in and turned slowly in a circle, studying the room with a critical eye. When the large idiotic grin returned I figured now was my chance to lay down the rules before he got too excited.
"No pets, no parties, no girlfriends, got it?" I demanded. Black*Star barely glanced at me, throwing himself on the bed and laughing when he bounced a bit on the mattress. "And no walking around the house naked or in your underwear, either. I don't house nudists."
"Understood, Kai!" A big thumbs-up was sent my direction, accompanied by another hearty laugh.
I held back a groan of frustration, alerted him that dinner would be ready within the hour, and promptly made my exit. A stray thread from the carpet made my foot itch. I hoped he wasn't expecting anything too fancy for dinner, because I was nearly one-hundred percent sure that I had forgotten to go shopping this weekend. As I hit the tile I surveyed the kitchen dismally. In addition to having forgotten to go shopping – I had checked the fridge – the dishes also needed done. Two of my least favorite chores.
Warren usually handled the kitchen stuff seeing as I was absolutely hopeless when it came to such things, but I didn't know whether or not this guy had any idea what to do in the kitchen. Not to mention I knew Warren would prefer that his previous dinnerware was intact when he got home.
I took a deep breath and rolled up my sleeves. The sound of running water very nearly made me cringe as I stepped forward and attacked the pile. It gave me time to think as I soaped up the dirty dishes and scraped against them with a sponge. Warren had spent so much time trying to get me into the kitchen to help out I felt a little silly – coming in of my own volition while he wasn't here.
"Who's Warren?"
I jumped, startled, and very nearly dropped the plate in my hand before carefully setting it down on the counter. "Warren is my meister," I stated calmly as I turned to face my new meister. Black*Star frowned and pointed towards the dishes.
"Do you want help?"
Glancing down at the considerable pile still left for me, I was tempted by his offer, but shook my head. Black*Star seemed like the kind of guy who would much more likely drop a plate than clean it. Instead I finished up quickly, practically obliterating all dirt from the dishes with my anger. A pounding at the door was the only thing that caused me to pause, and Black*Star had gotten up and pointed towards it in question.
"You can answer it, if you like!"
He went off and I put the last dish in the drying rack. Toweling of my hands, I began looking through the cupboards to see if there was anything I could turn into any sort of meal.
"Ramen it is then," I sighed, taking out two packs. Then I hunted for some eggs to liven it up a bit. As I pondered the eggs in there, wondering how long they'd resided within the depths of our sometimes questionable refrigerator, a crash came from the living room. I froze and turned slowly towards the noise, quietly praying until I heard a series of shouts.
"Rose! Morris! What are you doing here?" I dashed into the living room, only to find one of my two friends with Black*Star pinned to the ground.
Rose, my somewhat chubby meister comrade, had Black*Star pinned to the ground and was sitting on him proudly like she'd won some sort of prize. Morris, her scythe, blinked warily at me as I entered the room. I was known for losing my temper at idiotic times, it was true but for the sake of my new meister I took a deep breath and let my anger go. Also, I didn't want to break the coffee table again.
"What do you two think you're doing here?" I gestured towards the drab apartment, furnished with an old black couch, two mismatched chairs, and an ancient T.V. "And why is it always my apartment that gathers people? Your mansion is way nicer!"
"Don't expect me to know the answer," Morris shrugged, tossing himself into one of our chairs, "I just followed Rose. Something about your new meister getting here today? Is this him? Doesn't seem like much!"
"Just you wait!" Black*Star said weakly from under Rose's butt, "I'm gonna' surpass god!"
The rest of the room stared at him for a moment.
"I told you to call as soon as he got here!" Rose whined after a moment, "I need to know how attractive he is! What if he's a threat to Warren?" She whispered conspiratorially, leaning towards me with wide eyes.
Warren and I's relationship was under much debate within our circle of friends. Rose 'shipped' us. Morris tended to stay out of it. The three others, one was away on his own exchange mission, his two weapons-
"Kai!" the door slammed open, effectively immobilizing Morris behind it as he let out a loud yelp.
Two twin boys stood in the opening, a girl I had never met before standing a little ways behind them. They were both tall, shaggy blond hair and blue eyes making it impossible to tell the two apart. Both were Canadian weapons, but seeing as the DWMAA was the closest academy other than the South American branch, they came here instead, similar to me.
"Ian, Zack, you've squished Morris behind the door…" I trailed off wearily, attempting to peer behind the two to see if my dark-haired friend was still alive behind the slab of wood. A hand peaked out and waved around so I figured he must at least be alive.
"Is this our new friend?" Ian cheered enthusiastically as he pushed Rose away and clutched Black*Star to his chest in a rather gay manner which, to be honest, Ian was. Zach slapped a hand to his forehead, embarrassed by his brother's forward behavior, and instead walked over to me and patted me on the head in a comforting manner.
"He's so cute!" Ian giggled, poking at Black*Star's cheeks.
Rose gasped and fawned over my new meister with the boy, both acting presently like young children with a pretty new friend.
"There's no containing them now." Morris groaned ominously.
"They've gone to the dark side." Zach hung his head in defeat.
"You're both goobers!" I snorted, inserting my hand into the fray and pulling Black*Star out by his bicep. I couldn't help but notice he was rather defined, but fortunately not in an overly zealous way. He seemed like the kind of guy who worked out a lot, but not to the extent that he wanted muscles larger than his head.
"I was planning on exposing you to them separately, Rose and Ian can be a deadly force when combined."
Black*Star snapped to attention, at once the life coming back to his eyes. "It's alright! It's only natural they'd be excited to meet such a big star like me!"
This was going to be an interesting year.