Author's note: I do not own Soul Eater.
Identical drops of sweat, parallel to dual black stands of hair, rolled down the forehead of an impeccably dressed young man, his face scrunched up in concentration.
'Even under pressure, I'm symmetrical,' he noticed joyfully. With a quick metal shake, he instantly chided himself, 'Focus.'
Mind back on task, he reevaluated the challenge before him. Deciding on a course of action, he drew his knife and rammed it into his sticky concoction. Making sure there was ample, he slid it over his opponent, and made sure to apply every fraction of an ounce. Placing another opponent on top of the stick side, he forced the two together. Eying the edges, he fixed those, too; only then was he satisfied with his work. Phase One— Status: completed.
Time to cut them up. Wondering the best way to go about it, he lifted the object of his ire to eye level, and stared it down. Finding the crevasse, he applied pressure up the middle and down the sides, ever so slightly. Ignoring perspiration that beaded at his temples, he bit his lip unconsciously. Closing his eyes, he swiftly dealt the blow. The sound of the deed being done graced his ears, causing him to grin and his eyes to open. Realizing he was only halfway done, he repeated the process to the remains, smoother and quicker this time. Phase Two— Status: completed.
Now was time to feed. He grabbed twin pieces and dunked them into liquid prepared beforehand. He held them there, only letting them up when the bubbles stopped— roughly eight seconds. He then proceeded to gnash them, careful not to stain his suit; he quite liked this one. Picking up the others, he drowned those, too, then devoured them still dripping. He chugged the leftover liquid, then removed any trace of this incident and smiled. Operation Perfect Peanut Butter and Graham Crackers: completed.