Chapter 1; For a God of Death, Life Sure Passes Fast
During the four years after Shinigami-sama's death, his son, Death the Kid, has been successful in taking over his position as the God of Death and as headmaster of Shibusen. His peers and comrades from Class Crescent Moon had graduated from the academy for what felt like ages ago. Since the creation of a peace treaty with Shibusen and the witches, the usual crime and violence has come to an all time low. Therefore, most of those students disbanded from Shibusen to seek out normal lives since their assistance was no longer needed. Times at Shibusen were more relaxed and peaceful. You could almost say everything was perfect. Death the Kid knew this, and it brought him great joy. He knew Father would be proud. But maybe it was a little too perfect. Death the Kid felt this as well, but didn't want to bring himself to believe in his paranoia that something was going to ruin his perfection. He didn't want to fail. He believed Father would not be proud of that.
(Death the Kid, Death City)
The air was surprisingly brisk for a town located in the center of a desert.
Death the Kid watched the vapors from his breath as he once again climbed the concrete steps up to his father's- no, his school. He could have much more easily traveled from a mirror in his home straight to the Death Room, but he didn't want to lose a form of normality that had built up inside of him over the years. Besides, he was going to be living in this city for a couple centuries at least. He might as well enjoy it.
The hallways inside Shibusen were empty. A few years ago, this would have been a shocking sight. But after most of the violence and usual disaster rates have dropped, so has Shibusen's student count. Not that it was worrying, however; not all the extra help was needed now since the treaty he had enacted after the defeat of Asura called for peace between the school and the witches that had once plagued them.
Nonetheless, it was still a bit too early for even the most eager of students to already be at school.
After a few rounds of patrolling through the mirror and a bit of assigning new missions, a certain white haired weapon joined Kid in the Death Room. He was the last Death Scythe ever created. He was now Kid's weapon. He was now Kid's Death Scythe.
"Soul, you are late, again," Kid said without removing his eyes from the mirror.
Soul scoffed. "Is there even a point to me coming in so early? It's your job to patrol the mirror, and it's not like there's a million missions lying around to be assigned and graded."
"There will always be work that will need to be done," Kid said firmly, "And, it's good to be disciplined with your time. There is no order to anything if we all just showed up wherever we wanted whenever we wanted."
Soul rolled his eyes as he walked behind Kid to shuffle through a neat pile of papers.
"I think you need a wake-up call, Kid. Things aren't as badly needed or wanted like when your father was around," he said harshly.
The word 'father' sent chills down Kid's back. He abruptly turned around to face his weapon. "What is that supposed to mean? And, you are to address me as Kid-sama. You know I have utmost authority over you," he said as anger rose on his face.
Soul laughed as he slapped the table beneath him. He stared up at Kid's face. "Open your damn eyes, Kid-'sama'! No one cares about this place," he said as Kid clenched his fists. "No one gives a shit, and that's because in all honestly, no one needs us anymore! We have half our usual amount of students, half the amount of missions, and probably half of any goddamn support that was left after your father's death!"
"Don't you dare mention my father with such little respect," Kid said sternly holding Soul's eyes. He tried to steady himself, "What has gotten into you today, Soul?" He shook his head, "And how can you just not see that everything is going absolutely perfectly?" Soul scoffed loudly as Kid continued, " We have better control over the students now since we are a smaller number. Half the amount of missions means half the amount villains and violence. And, in all honestly, Soul, the only person who doesn't seem to be giving any goddamn support is standing right here in front me."
There was a long pause. Soul looked down and flipped through a few papers with pretend interest. Kid shook his head, "I can't believe Maka thought this was going to work."
"Don't mention her," Soul said looking up suddenly and staring hard at Kid.
Kid laughed. "Doesn't it hurt to be reminded of losing someone you loved?"
"You asshole, I didn't lose her!" Soul yelled as he knocked over the table in front of him. Another long pause. He took a deep breath and looked down to his shoes as papers drifted through the air before landing softly on the tile floor.
"I think you both need to have some more respect for one another," a voice called out behind them.
They both looked up to see the usual red-head man make his way up the stairs to them. The smell of tequila strongly wafted through the air. He nodded and smiled solemnly before he bent down to begin picking up the papers that covered the floor. Kid stood still as he watched Soul pick up the table he had just thrown over. Soul took a deep breath and leaned his elbows on the table. He ruffled his hair as a few tears streamed down his cheeks. "We are all just a big fucking mess, huh," he choked out.
Kid bent down to re-assort the papers that were scattered on the floor.
Kid closed his eyes and sighed, "We are all just perfectly fine."
(The Rose Forest, about Midday)
During the day, they reflected the warm sun and glistened like the freshly fallen snow.
At night, they swayed in the gentle breeze with a faint glow, looking like distant spirits or lost souls.
All those roses, so clean and white they nearly sparkled.
Sprouting down the hills, in clusters on bushes, and oddly enough, in all the trees.
Those pure white rosebuds were a reminder to how much his mother had loved him.
Sometimes the fallen petals would scatter and dance in the wind all around the city, the sweet yet pungent aroma carried by the wind.
They were a comfort, a reminder to be strong and carry on.
His mother needed him to carry on her message and end this war.
His mother.
The Goddess of Life.
(Death the Kid, Death City)
Death the Kid and Soul both rested their elbows on the marble railing bordering one of the many balconies at Shibusen. Even though they've seen this view a thousand times, the sight was still absolutely stunning for them. They sat in silence as they, once again, took in the view of Death City.
"Breathtaking," Kid quietly thought to himself. A sudden gust of wind sent chills all down his back. He shivered, "What an unusual difference in the temperature today, hm?" he said as he broke the uneasy silence.
Soul shrugged, "Guessing winter might come sooner than we thought. It's already September..." He paused and took a puff of his cigarette. "But wasn't it just this cold last year?"
"No, it wasn't," Kid said a-matter-of-factly as Soul blew cigarette smoke from his mouth. "What a vile habit," Kid thought silently to himself.
Soul chuckled, "Of course you're one to remember."
More quiet moments passed by until the last bell of the day rang through the Academy. The young men watched as students filed out of the school doors all laughing and chattering on in their own friendship cliques. They all looked so happy and cheerful; it was Friday after all.
Kid chuckled softly at the nostalgia.
Soul took another long puff of his cigarette as he watched the students lazily loiter outside of the Academy. He sighed and pursed his lips. "Hey Kid, about this morning," he began, "it was totally uncool of me to blow up like that. Think I've just been stressing myself out over some crap." He took another puff and moved his gaze from the students to Kid's eyes. "Sorry."
"I'm sorry, too," Kid said as he broke his gaze from Soul. "I brought up some things I shouldn't have. I can be a real arrogant jackass sometimes. I don't deserve the same respect and authority my father had; compared to him I'm nothing," he said self-deprecating himself.
Soul smothered out the last of his cigarette and shook his head as he turned to face Kid. "Don't say that," he began, "Honestly, it's going to be a long time before you achieve what your father's done, but that's because you're only nineteen years old right now, Kid. You're going to be running this academy, city, and whole world for centuries. You're gonna win some and you're gonna lose some, I assure you that." He put his hand on Kid's shoulder, "But what gains you the respect and the authority is that you fight hard and do the best of your ability for the benefit of everyone that you're protecting to keep the order in this world." He took a breath, "I was wrong, Kid. Those people out there, they do support you. They believe in you. I know you won't ever let them down."
...
The golden glow of the sunset flooded through the tall windows lined up in Shibusen's halls. Most of the staff, and students had turned in for the night, and the hallways were peaceful.
Death the Kid and Soul leisurely strolled through the long hallways after running some everyday errands around the school. It had been a slow day at the Academy, which was more common than it should be.
Soul cleared his throat and ruffled his hair. "Think I'm going to clock-in a bit early tonight," he said quietly a few paces behind Kid. "But I promise I'll be on time Monday morning. In fact, I'll even be early," he added quickly in fear that Kid might bring up him being late again this morning.
"Going out for drinks with Spirit again?" Kid questioned. Soul shook his head. Relieved, Kid thought for a moment. He chuckled softly. "Of course," he thought. "Going on a date with Liz?" he finally asked.
"Yeah," Soul said gladly. A smile broke out on his face. "But a real date this time, somewhere nice. Not an overcrowded club fuming with the stench of cheap vodka and vomit ." he said.
When they passed by the main entrance of Shibusen, Kid crossed his arms and turned to face Soul abruptly. Soul expected another one of his long lectures, but instead, Kid smiled. "Well, I want you two have a good time tonight," he said as he notioned towards the entranceway, seemingly dismissing him.
Soul's jaw nearly dropped as Kid walked away from him and continued down the long hallway to the Death Room. "No hour long lecture this time?" Soul thought. Kid almost always had something to discipline him about; he always found a flaw. Soul decided not to push his luck and wait around for Kid to eventually decide to come back and lecture him for the next couple hours. He shrugged and quickly left the Academy.
Kid walked slowly down the hallway, letting his head hang down. He wanted to punch the wall and scream. He wanted to curl up in a dark corner and cry, yet he didn't feel sad. He felt empty; he felt alone. He had grown up that way, all alone. Without any friends other than his father, who was always busy with work or reaping souls. His father ran the world, for heaven's sake.
It didn't necessarily bother Kid when he was little, however. He never got along with any other children anyway, and he was always having constant meltdowns because of his Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. His OCD outbursts embarrassed him, but he couldn't make them stop. They all thought he was a freak. Kid thought he was a freak, too.
He decided that he didn't need friends, that he himself was all the company he would ever need. But as he grew up, he began to envy all the friendships and cliques that he saw bloom at the Academy. He was jealous of all the laughter and smiles. He watched them, he wished he would fit into one of those cliques. But he knew he never would. He was a child of the a god. And, as far as he knew, there weren't any other children of the gods. Even if they were, would they just think he was just an OCD freak, too?
He didn't know how to make friends, he didn't think anyone would ever accept him. "How do you get people to accept you, Father?" he had asked Shinigami-sama years ago.
He couldn't take the emptiness and solitude of the his home, The Gallows Mansion, anymore. His father began to let him take on missions when he thought he was old enough, and that's when he met them.
Doing those first few missions made him open his eyes and see the ugly in the world. He grew up as a rich, spoiled boy living under the protection of a literal god; he couldn't believe the things he saw. His father sent him on missions to places of ruin and towns overtaken by crime. Brooklyn, he'd never forget it. He never believed people, let alone children, lived with no home and no belongings. He felt pity for them. He needed to help them. He wanted to make a difference in all that ugly of the world.
'Them' were his first friends. The two who were his complete and utter opposites were the first people to actually get to know him. He had not one, but two people to walk by his side. Two people who had the time to listen to him, comfort him. He eventually decided to actually enroll in Shibusen. He could be like those other smiling teenagers there. He wanted to be like them. He could be normal. He never expected to make more friends. Real friends. Family, you could even say.
Then he lost his father. He was okay, though, he had his friends with him. They comforted him, and they were there for him. He didn't feel alone. They cared for him. They were there for him.
But then they weren't. Even if some hadn't completely left the area, they left Kid. Kid no longer had friends who walked to school or class with him. He wasn't invited to anymore parties or basketball matches. Kid thought he wouldn't enjoy such humane, informal things. But he ended up having the best time of his life, and cherished each moment. He knew it wouldn't last forever, but he never expected it to end so soon.
Kid opened the large doors and entered the Death Room. As he passed the last guillotine arch, he waved his hand and instantly a golden throne engraved with skulls replaced the table sitting in the center of the Death Room. He sat down and sighed as he boredly watched his reflection in the mirror.
He remembered something his father had told him when he had decided to join the academy. "You must always remember that you are a god, Kid. You are not the same as the other children in this school," Shinigami-sama had told him. "You cannot permanently attach yourself to them, for they will grow old and pass on. But, you son, will stay young and live far beyond their time. You must not rely on others for your happiness."
(Soul Eater Evans, Death City)
"So, what's Kid been up to lately?" Liz asked Soul as he fiddled with the car radio. "He usually comes to check in on me and Patti at our place, but he's hasn't been around lately. I'm kind of worried about him."
Soul shrugged as he finally found a song that suited his taste. "Maybe it's just me, but lately he seems a bit more tense," he said nonchalantly. "Can't you just give him a call?"
Liz shook her head. "It's always either he's working, or I'm working," she said looking out the window, watching the purple and blue blur of buildings fly by.
"I'm sure he's fine. You know how he gets sometimes," Soul sighed
After a few quiet minutes of driving, Soul parked the car in front of a sightly bistro near the center of Death City. He gripped her thigh, "Don't worry too much about him, alright? I'll give him a talk tomorrow if it will make you feel better," he whispered in her ear. "Let's have some fun tonight, just me and you."
"Thank you," Liz murmured as she kissed Soul.
Soul and Liz walked into the bistro with linked arms. Liz held a pleasant look on her face, but Soul wore a more guilty expression.
It was his fault that Kid didn't visit Liz anymore. He had told Kid some bullshit lies that Liz wanted him to leave her alone, and some other fake bologna. Truth be told, Soul was a bit jealous of Liz and Kid's relationship; even though they were nothing more than just old friends.
Seated at their table, Soul lustfully watched as Liz flipped her hair and made conversation with him. Liz was everything Soul had wanted in a girl: easy to talk to and pretty to look at. That is definitely everything he wanted, right? Liz was mature and cool, but she was a bit easy; at least she was for Soul. If she ever got upset with him, he had a few tricks up his sleeve he could use to calm her down almost instantly. But tonight, Soul needed more than a trick to get himself out of this mess.
As Liz flipped through the menu, Soul noticed a flicker of blonde hair across the room near the front entrance. "No way that could be…?" he thought hopefully. He involuntarily leaned to the side and stared at the girl on the other side of the room. She had her back to Soul, but from that angle it seemed extremely possible that could be her. I mean, she must've changed a bit in the past few years, right?
"What the hell, Soul?" Liz said furiously. "Took me to a nice place for once just so you check out some classier chicks?" she questioned.
Soul snapped back into reality and darted his eyes between the seemingly familiar girl at the door and Liz's angry face. "Liz, no, I just," he stuttered, "I think…"
"-...I think that's Maka."
Liz abruptly stood up and slammed her hands on the table. "Maka?!" she said loudly. Heads turned, and the chatter in the bistro quieted down. "She's all you really care about, huh?" she said fiercely. The girl at the front door turned to face them. Light brown eyes, freckles, and heavy breasts.
"Not Maka," Soul thought.
"Babe, I'm sorry," he said motioning for her to sit back down. "Just forget about it, okay?"
"How about you just forget about it, Soul?" she said in a whisper this time. "Maka's been gone for three years. She is happy where she is now, and she is definitely not going to come back here for you," she said bitterly. "There's no point in you moping around like a sad puppy dog waiting for your owner to return just like her father!"
Soul bit his lip and bowed his head as Liz sat back down. The chatter in the bistro slowly started up again, and the girl near the front entrance was now nowhere to be seen.
A few minutes of silence passed. "Soul, I'm sorry," Liz began, "That was harsh."
Without looking up, Soul flipped open his wallet and placed a few fifty-dollar bills on the table. "This should be more than enough for dinner and a cab ride home," he said before standing up.
"Stop, Soul-" Liz said as she stood up and grabbed his wrist.
He turned around. "I have to go; enjoy yourself here though, okay?" He chuckled. "Maybe we should stick to clubs that are too dark to see anyone, and too loud to hear anything," he said with a fake grin.
"I'm such a goddamn idiot," Soul thought as he slammed his car door shut. "There was no way in hell that could've been Maka, even from behind. I would've felt her soul." He blasted the radio and tossed off his blazer. "I need to stop thinking about her, or else I'm really going to turn into that sad fucked up father of her's," he thought to himself.
Soul parked his car in front of an all-too-familiar club and strode inside. Inside, the smell of cheap perfume and tequila filled his lungs. Through all the nearly naked women and drunken men, he spotted the familiar redhead at the bar and walked over to take a seat next to him.
"Soul?" Spirit said surprised with a glass of alcohol in his hand, "I thought you were out with Liz tonight?" he questioned before finishing off whatever was in his glass. Luckily, he still seemed sober enough to talk to.
"I was," Soul said as he ordered himself a drink. He rubbed his forehead and sighed, "I totally screwed up the whole night."
Spirit chuckled. "You must have done something pretty wrong since you're actually admitting whatever happened was your fault," he said as the bartender handed them both drinks.
Soul undid the first few buttons of his shirt and loosened his tie. "Spirit," he said in between a sip of his drink, "do you ever think that, maybe, Maka is going to come back?"
Spirit looked Soul in the eyes, "Everyday," he laughed, "Every single day I pray that I could just see her walk through the door, or even have her send a some kind of message. Anything," he said.
"Sometimes," Spirit began, "I even think I see her. Out of the corner of my eye, or mistake someone else as her," he said as he began to trail on about Maka in between swigs of his drink. "I'm really turning into this loon," Soul silently thought to himself.
Soul actually pitied Spirit, he really did. Not only did his wife leave him, but his daughter did, too.
Soul knew the story too well, Spirit often told it after he had had a few too many drinks.
Spirit's wife had planned to travel just for a small amount of time to get away for a while. She wanted to come back after and raise Maka, help her train at Shibusen. But she was attacked somewhere remote while traveling, and without Spirit there, she was killed.
Spirit felt it was all his fault; if he hadn't cheated she wouldn't have left the weapon to get away. He would drink until he forgot almost everything; to him it was the only way to cope with the guilt. He couldn't bear to tell Maka. Besides, Maka's mom was her driving force behind everything she did. He didn't want her to sink into depression and forget her schoolwork, or her training, or her dreams.
He begged the other death scythes from around the world to send him postcards from the areas where they were stationed. He pretended he was Maka's mother, and wrote her messages that would pertain to her life. He would write advice and things that he wanted Maka to know; but stuff he couldn't tell her himself because she couldn't stand him, let alone hear him out.
Of course, Maka eventually figured out. She wouldn't hear any reason; she was pissed. Everything she had ever accomplished came from wanting to be like her mother, from the advice and help that were written on the cards from 'her'. Soul understand Maka being upset, but she was done. Done with her father, done with the academy, done with anything that included her past life, which involved Soul.
And so she left. Completely gone. Never left any sort of information on how to contact her or anything. No letters, no calls, no visits. Nothing.
Maka Albarn had literally disappeared.
(The Rose Forest, about Midnight)
"It is a true shame that we do not see eye-to-eye," the boy said as he plucked the delicate petals off of a white rose. "In all honesty, I am only doing what will be best choice for you and your sister."
A girl with fire red hair clenched her hands at the sound of his words. "No, you of all people especially do not know what is best for anyone!" she yelled at the him.
He chuckled. "And you do?" he questioned mischievously. "Because I know what you are, Anima. I can see through all your lies and tricks unlike all those rats up in the Grand Assembly Hall...Those old, dumb bastards..."
"Quit acting like such a smartass," she said fiercely, "You can't prove anything about me!"
The boy chuckled louder, "Your friend of yours was an idiot to trust you. How could anyone of his status place such faith in a creature such as yourself? The best part about it all is that he, too, knows what you truly are...Doesn't he?"
"All you ever say is pure bullshit!" the girl screamed at him as a sharp wind picked up, swirling the discarded white rose petals like snowflakes.
"You've got quite a colorful langauge, did you pick that up on the streets as well?" he laughed, feathered wings appearing out of a lilac mist from his back; their milky color blending in well with the glistening white roses growing amongst them.
He chillingly stared into her eyes. "Yes, what an idiot of Life's son to share his powers with a hot-headed demon girl who can't even hold her tongue? And what an idiot of you for staying with him over your sister and the rest of us!"
"I'd rather croak than join you all," she whispered fiercely, "If anyone here is truly vile it's you and the rest of all the fallen angels, my sister included."
"What a sorry thing to hear…" he murmured, "I promised your sister I'd do my best to convince you, but it seems you're not budging..."
He straightened the white collar of his dress shirt as a wild smirk broke out on his face. "I assume it will be fun to watch the lot of you burn from up above, but you're already familiar with the fire's of Hell, am I correct?"
"Aeviternus, you are absolutely mad!" she shouted, her voice nearly being drowned out by the strong wind that swirled around the angel in front of her.
A crooked smile played out on his lips,
"I know that is true, Anima," he said, "But you should remember you are the same."
(Death the Kid, Death City)
Walking unhurriedly down the city's cracked brick streets, Death the Kid made his way back to his lonesome manor after another long night of work. The wind blew even fiercer than it had in the morning, nearly chilling him to the bone. He gripped the collar of his overcoat faster and began to pick up his pace. The wind whipped through the alleyways and crevices in the worn down buildings, sounding like whispers or the souls of the forgotten.
A feeling of uneasiness overcame him and he started going faster.
Branches tapped against the glass windows of the buildings surrounding the street. Leaves rustled and bits of garbage blew against the sides of the road. The temperature dropped to what felt like below freezing as he began to run. In one of the alleyways, a cat mewed. The wind blasted harder and knocked over a metal trash bin, scattering old newspaper and aluminum cans. Bolting down the street, he suddenly froze in an intersection as the uneasiness suffocated him and bound his chest.
"Kid," the wind whispered from any one of the paths leading from the intersection. "How may you expect to find balance, if you can't find your other half?" the wind giggled in some sort of warped voice.
Nearby, a car alarm went off, and a lights from a few windows above flickered on. He snapped out of it and ran down the closest path. He ran all the way to his manor, not stopping even for a few scattered people wishing him good night. Yet no matter how fast he ran, a freezing chill flowed through him.
Finally arriving, he made no thought in taking off his overcoat or shoes. He made his directly into his living room and plopped onto the rich, black velvet of his favorite arm chair with a sigh.
The only source of light came from the pale, bluish glow of the stars streaming in from a large bay window opposite to him. Gazing out at the stars and nearly passing out from a sudden wave of exhaustion, he muttered to himself, "My other half."
A/N: Hey, I've been burnt-out for a while and decided to re-vamp this, maybe I'll start writing Chapter 2 for fun...I posted a different Soul Eater story earlier on and deleted it soon after, but I think I might just combine the two of them and make it one whole project...I don't know, but anyways, thanks for reading c: