Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater and never will. This is a story I just wrote for fun because I'm a fan of Soul Eater.
A/N: Dear reader, there's a chance that you may hate me after reading this. Just know that I'm not sorry. :D
Well, this kinda just came to me in the middle of the night and since I love angst-y, sad stuff, I immediately got to writing it. I hope it's not too crappy—I spent under an hour writing it, and edited it just before posting it. Also, the flow might not be the greatest; I was experimenting with a style of writing different to what I prefer to try to convey the emotions and theme better. And I probably failed. That's what I get for trying to be creative. ._.
Anywaayyyy, on to the story! Enjoy! (Or at least try to. Hehe.)
I'm Not Okay
"Are you okay?"
Every time, he asked her this after unnecessarily risking his life for her. Every time, he was on the brink of death as these three words escaped his mouth. She heard him say the words so many times that they now repeated in her mind like a broken record.
...
During their extracurricular assignment in Italy, when they first encountered Crona and Ragnarok in the church, he had quickly reverted back to his human form to take the slash from the Demon Sword—the attack that was meant for her.
Screaming, she cradled him in her arms, watching helplessly as blood seeped from the wide gash on his torso, staining his jacket and pooling on the floor. She could sense his soul gradually slipping away...
Then, just when she thought she was about to lose him, he groaned and opened his eyes slightly. Looking at her with dull red eyes, he said weakly: "Are you... okay...?"
...
Toward the end of their battle with Free in London, he had snatched her ankle before she could plummet from the bridge to her death. He held on for not only her life, but his own. His fingers slipped from the pole as he held the weight of her and the immortal man; if Black Star hadn't severed the werewolf's arm with Tsubaki's Shuriken Mode, he would've fallen with her.
Safely back on the bridge, he observed the wounds on her hands and her body. Panting, his gaze met hers, and she could read the concern in his tired eyes.
"Are you okay?"
...
In the midst of their battle with Asura, after their Kishin Hunter technique failed, she could only watch in horror as the Kishin fired a glowing red blast from the Weapon deep within his throat. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the pain of the attack...
But she felt nothing.
She opened her eyes as the smoke from the blast cleared. He stood before her, arms outstretched, feet rooted firmly into the ground.
"S-Soul..." was all she could manage to say in her state of shock.
Before he collapsed into her arms, he whispered the same phrase: "Are you okay...?"
...
And just the day before, on their mission to collect their ninety-ninth Kishin soul for the second time, she found herself backed into the corner of an alleyway. The four-armed monster before her jabbed his sharp, knife-like claws at her—one to her left, one to her right, and one right above her head—barely missing her by mere inches. His claws stuck in the wall, forming a cage around her.
Breathing heavily, her green eyes darted all around to try to find an escape. The Kishin's three arms trapped her from three sides, his bulky legs were right in front of her body, and his fourth arm was raised, prepared to strike.
It was no use. There was no escape.
Taking a breath in, she squeezed her eyes shut and prepared for the enemy's claws to cut through her body. She felt a warm, thick liquid splash over her body. She realized the liquid wasn't her own when she opened her eyes.
It was his blood. He was back in his human form, filling the tiny bit of space between her and the Kishin. His arm was transformed into a red and black scythe blade, penetrating the enemy's chest. At the same time, the Kishin's claws were seeped into her Weapon partner's abdomen and protruded from his back.
The Kishin's body disintegrated, leaving behind a small, red orb. The claws that held the Weapon upright disappeared, and he collapsed back into her arms, liters of blood leaking from his body onto hers.
"S-Soul! Stay with me, please! Soul!" she shrieked, sobbing.
"Maka..." he muttered. With the little bit of strength he still had, he turned his head to look at her. She clutched his cold, trembling hand in hers. "A-are you okay...?"
...
Those last words echoed in Maka's mind as she stood in the cemetery. Rain poured down from the heavens, soaking her black dress and pelting her body like a barrage of rocks. The raindrops masked the tears that stained her face as she gazed at the tombstone in front of her.
Another piece of her heart broke off as she reread the words engraved into the granite slab:
"Here lies Soul 'Soul Eater' Evans
Beloved Son, Brother, Friend, and Weapon"
The Meister dropped to her knees in the grass, sobbing as her hands tightly gripped the ground and tore into it, releasing her anger and sadness.
"Are you okay?"
She could hear his voice in her head so clearly, it was almost as if he was standing right there beside her. She raised her head and stared at the empty space beside her, envisioning him there—slouching, gazing at her with concerned red eyes, his hand awkwardly messing with his spiky white hair. A part of her hoped this hallucination would bring her comfort; her logical side nagged her, telling her that nothing in this world could help her overcome this pain.
"No, Soul. I'm not okay."
The End
A/N: ...I have nothing to say.
Please leave a review to tell me what you think! :)
~Hayley
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