Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.
A BROKEN HEART: A SOUL EATER FAN-FICTION
As Kid turned over, a bolt of pain ripped through his chest. Sitting up, nursing his heavy heart, Kid cast off the sheets and dropped his feet to the bedroom floor. Confusingly stiff, he stumbled for the bathroom sink, trying to massage the back of his neck as he went.
How long have I been asleep? He yawned, cracking his neck right then left. He rolled his shoulders for good measure as he let the sink tap run, gathering several handful to slap over his face. He grabbed a clean cream towel, and hurriedly dried off, before grabbing his tooth brush. After double and triple checking his teeth in-between his flossing, Kid folded his towel symmetrically and placed it symmetrically on the shining silver rail. Kid waltzed back into his room to get dressed. His toothbrush stood at attention at its master departure, and for ever moment after.
"Hey, Liz, Patty, time for breakfast," he called.
Stopping at the hallway mirror to readdress a stubborn button on his jacket, Kid admired his perfect attire, choosing to ignore the three glaring white strips encompassing the left side of his head of healthy, nightmare black hair.
"Liz! Patty! Don't make me ask again," he warned, turning into the kitchen.
In a flash, the searing pain across his chest materialised and disappeared. In a matter of seconds, Kid was left clutching the kitchen doorway, his clothes plastered to his skin, his hair ladled with sweat.
What the – Why am I – What's wrong with – Liz! Patty!
Ignoring the agony, Kid tore back up his stairs. He slammed the door open, its handle bashing and indenting the wall behind it.
Empty! Damn it! "Patty! Are you with your sister?" he called, his desperation mounting as he ran.
Three feet or three miles, Kid would have walked to Hell and back to see his friends again. But Liz's room was as barren as her sister's.
"Think, Kid, think. If they're not here – did they go to school? Why'd they leave me behind? No, answers later," he instructed, stalking over to his bedroom mirror. Hurriedly, he wrote the number he committed to memory as a child. "Come on Father, answer," he huffed, pacing back to seat himself on his four poster bed. He couldn't afford to collapse. Not now. Not ever.
"Hmm…? Hold on a moment, please. I'm getting a call," Shinigami voiced, answering his mirror with a wave of his hand. "Kiddo!" he jumped.
"Father, what –"
"Kid, what are you doing out of bed?" Liz scolded, rounding on the mirror.
"Oh, Kid's in trouble," Patty sang, holding her sides as she laughed.
"Liz, Patty," Kid sighed, breathing in a deep and endless sigh of relief. "Why are you at school? Why didn't you wake me up?"
"You need your rest, Kiddo," Shinigami answered. "I talked to Stein and he gave strict orders for plenty of bed rest."
"Bed rest? What on Earth for?" Kid interrogated.
"Don't you remember?" Liz questioned, her anger melting into concern.
"Remember what? Look, tell me when I get there."
"Don't leave the house, Kid," Shinigami ordered.
"Father, I don't –"
"Please."
There was a tense silence. It hung in the air like Death at a funeral.
"Alright," Kid breathed. "But I want a full explanation," he demanded.
"We'll be right over," Liz saved, nodding furiously. "Just take it...easy." It was pointless. Kid had already gone.
Kid signed off, cutting Liz short, and sat back on his bed. He leaned forward, holding his head in his hands, bracing his elbows on his thighs.
What am I doing? What happened? Why can't I remember? Why's Father so concerned? It can't be about my OCD. No, he's already come to terms with that…
With his head crammed full of questions, Kid slipped his jacket and shirt off. He strained at the effort, mentally scolding himself for not staying in shape. He bent down to untie his dress shoe laces, removing them and placing them next to his bedside cabinet, and pulled his socks off. Standing up sent blood rushing to his head; it made his ears ring. Half-heartedly, Kid tossed his socks onto his pile of laundry before he grabbed his mirror. It didn't have a choice, but took his weight anyway. Inhaling deeply, Kid closed his eyes in an attempt to empty his mind.
Shakily, he breathed out. How can I be so tired?
He sighed, opening his eyes, only to catch sight of his Father's concern. Dropping a hand, Kid reached out to touch the glass as he watched his soul dance before his eyes. He saw it, the dull slither fragments barely attached to the main body of his shruken, glowling soul. As questions devoured him, pain embraced him. Clumsily, Kid raced to call his father, his sweaty fingers slipping across the glass helplessly. Tears poured down his face, sliding over the glass, erasing all his hard work.
For a second, just a second, Kid closed his eyes. He needed to think, but he couldn't. He didn't want to. He didn't want to stand. He wanted to sleep. He felt a rush of cool air, a breeze. He didn't remember opening a window. Could it be the door?
Liz…Patty… I need to talk to them. They were going to tell me something, something important. What was it again? I guess…it can't be too important if I can't remember…
Kid greeted the darkness, the cold, the isolation. He welcomed the peace.
Elizabeth Thompson screamed. Her black tears made her face look like that of a clown. Her face didn't matter. But the glass, the glass mattered very much. And so did the blood. There was so much the glass seemed to float, bobbing up and down like a fishing tackle waiting to seize its prey.
"Kid!" she exclaimed frantically, racing to grasped the full-body mirror and pushed it back against the wall. "P-Patty. Patty! Call Shinigami-sama! Get a doctor! Now!" A scrambled of feet raced away amongst sobbing gasps.
I'm sorry you had to see that Patricia. I'm sorry I wasn't here, Kid.
She was fingering her way through the blooded glass when Patty returned.
"They're coming. They're coming, big sis!" she squeaked. "Um, sis, what'cha doin'?"
"I need to get to Kid! But there's just so much God Damn glass I can't – I can't – I can't!" she wailed.
Staring at the floor, Liz could still see the blood and glass she cleaned up hours ago. She turned to Kid, her Meister, her friend…no, he was more than that. He'd become family, a little brother. Sound asleep. Was that an accurate description? Did Kid want to sleep? Was he dreaming? Was he having a nightmare? Is that what woke him up before, a nightmare? Had he freaked out when they weren't there? Did he...care?
Treading carefully to the door, remembering to leave it ajar, Liz left him to sleep. It was getting to her, the fact they hadn't fought or squabbled or shouted in days. He hadn't commented once, not once, on her and her sister's asymmetrical appearances. It was getting to her. Kid wasn't Kid. Would he ever be Kid again?
"He's still sleeping," Liz announced at a whisper, seating herself on the sofa next to a dosing Patty.
Stein sighed and flipped a book shut. He raised a hand and took hold of the screw-head sticking out of his brain. Suddenly, he lowered his hand. Liz raised a small smile, nodding, bidding her thanks. All of a sudden, she felt very exposed.
"Death went back to Shibusen," Stein informed, his voice, too, a whisper. "I told him there wasn't anything he could do here, worrying."
"Is there anything you can do?" Liz asked, crossing her fingers out of sight.
Heavily, Stein shook his head. "I don't know how to fix souls," he winced, as if declaring his defeat.
"Can't Shinigami-sama do that? Can't he do anything? Can't we do anything?" Liz rose.
Patty snorted, waking with a jerk.
"Sorry, sis," Liz consoled.
Meekly, Patty yawned. "That's OK, sis," she snuffled, snuggled into the hug Liz offered.
"To answer your question, I really don't know." Stein raked a hand through his grey hair hurriedly as he groaned. "Death told me he knew how to break a soul, but not how to reform one."
"Wouldn't the Witch lady know?" Patty mewed as meekly as her yawn.
"Witch lady…" Liz repeated.
"You know, the one Kiddo fought," Patty elaborated, yawning as her eyes drooped to a close.
Liz raised her head. Her bright eyes met the glowing ones of Professor Franken Stein. He pushed up his glasses and smiled. Liz copied. On a second thought, she frowned.
"How?" she gasped. "How would we get her to cooperate?"
Stein's smile only grew. "Leave that to me," he insisted.
Uneasily, Liz gulped. "I'm glad you're on our side."
"So am I." He reached for his screw-head again, this time turning it. Once. Twice. Three times. It clicked into placed. It thundered, echoing like a bullet speeding from a gun.
