AN: I do not own Soul Eater, those rights belong to Atsushi Okubo. This contains strong language. If this offends you, read no further. If not, enjoy.
I thought I was tired, but I guess not. I should really put a poster on the ceiling or some shit, at least then I would have something interesting to stare at for the next six fucking hours.. I sound bitter.. I need to work on that. Seems like it turns people off, but fuck them anyway right? They aren't willing to see the reasons why, they're all about face value, the assholes. I miss my brother. He understood, or tried to at least. He never asked why when I left, he just knew.
Seems like everyone around me thinks my family is just a bunch of snotty assholes, but that's not it. They've never been like that. Just because I don't fucking talk about them all the time, all of a sudden they're abusive shitbags? What bull. I just wanted to make them proud.. I never would have if I stayed. I'm not a virtuoso, but so fucking what? I protect someone who is incredible at what they do.. that has to count for something.
I just want to sleep… I don't want to think about this shit anymore. I'm a fucking scythe, but I can't even cut out my own shitty thoughts. The epitome of not coll. A failure.
What if I fail on the battle field? It's not some bullshit concert for my mom and dad's friends, it's a fight to the death. It's different. Any musician will try to tell you it isn't, but they're full of shit. I've never been as scared on a stage as I have been in battle. If I fail, I don't get jeered at, I get soaked with the blood of my meister, soaked in my failure, in her death. That isn't a failure I could ever come back from.
Failing is not an option anymore. I finally found my reason. My direction. I'll die for it if I have to. Die for her, because she's worth it.
Wes would meet her at my funeral, and he'd know why. He'd know why I was gone and she wasn't. He's smart like that, always understood.
Or tried to, at least.
I hope they don't cry though, I'm not worth the headache or the sore eyes. I'm just here to make sure she stays here. It's a simple job but I take it seriously. Got a badass scar and a demon to prove it.
I can tell that she's still guilty. It's not obvious the way it used to be, but I can still see it, feel it when we resonate. It makes me fucking angry… the whole point of getting gutted was so that she wouldn't have to hurt. She makes my job way more difficult than it has to be. I shouldn't complain.. she gave me reason. She listened. Til the end, she stayed. She told me she liked the music, that grizzled, fucked up, twisted noise that I create, she liked it.
The only other person who has ever said they liked what I play was Wes.
They should meet each other. Maybe when we aren't almost getting killed every other day. I'll make some tea and we can talk about the weather. Nobody will die and we'll all smile like old friends.
I really hope we can make it that far…
