Author's Note:

This story really has no meaning. OH WELL XD Death the Kid is awesome, so I decided to randomly make this story. YAY. I just wasn't satisfied having only one Soul Eater story other than this. The title says the world...
SORRY IF CHARACTERS ARE OOC! (I think Kid is...)
THE ENDING IS ALSO AWFUL.
Also, I seriously don't know how to dye hair, so if I got that part wrong, don't freak out.

Rant over! Read on! Please don't flame, reviews are welcome!

-Silvia

Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater or Death the Kid's insane passion for symmetry

A Wile Goose Chase to Find My Gun So She Can Dye My Asymmetrical Hair

It was annoying.

It was infuriating.

It was more irritating than Black*Star's rants.

It was possibly even more aggravating then Excalibur's long speeches about his legend.

It was…

Those three terrible white stripes on the side of my head. Those awful imperfections in my hair. Why, why was I cursed to be such an asymmetrical mess? I hated those white stripes. It would be too much of a bother to make them surround my head totally, so I knew there was only one thing left for me to do.

Dye them black. I had to! I wasn't symmetrical! But I needed help from someone who might know how to help me, so I went in search of Liz, the most fashion savvy of my friends.

I burst into the room that she shared with Patty. "Liz!" I hollered.

Patty gazed at me, her usual ditzy look on her face. "Big sis isn't here," she informed me. She was sitting on her bed doing…something. I really didn't know. She had a piece of crumpled up yellow paper in her hands, with an origami book next to her. She was no doubt trying to make a giraffe—unsuccessfully. How she was able to make her exam papers into her favorite animal on her own but not able to follow the book's instruction to make one was beyond my comprehension.

"Well…where is she?" I asked.

Patty shrugged. "I dunno. Why? Does Kiddo-kun want to try to make her eyebrows symmetrical again?"

I sighed. "I'd love to, but she won't let me. I'm going to try to die the white stripes in my hair black, and I think she could help me. Do you know where she went?"

"Hm…" Patty tapped her chin and swayed back and forth. "I think she went to see Maka…"

"Okay, I'll look for her there," I replied, turning to leave. "Thanks, Patty. And good luck making that giraffe."

"Huh?" Patty looked down at her paper. "This isn't a giraffe! It's a pig! Oink! Oink!"

I gave her a confused look as she erupted into Old McDonald Had a Farm, singing the pig verse. I wondered why she was making her pig yellow. Maybe she just liked the color? …There was no way anyone could truly know.

Frightened for the sanity of my weapon partner, I backed out of the room very slowly and shut the door, leaving her to her singing.

Making sure that everything—from the picture in my front room to the ends of the toilet paper—was perfectly symmetrical, I left my house and started through the streets in search of Maka's apartment.

It was early in the evening, so the devilish-looking moon was out, but people still were too, and the streets were occupied fairly, so I couldn't really run that fast without slamming into anyone. I walked leisurely for a while before seeing a displayed chess set in the window of a shop and being reminded of the asymmetry in my hair. I hated chess. Everything was so imperfect, and the pieces always moved around and were never matching!

I rushed to Maka's apartment, rapping loudly on the door when I reached it. Blair—in her human, nose-bleed causing (mostly to Soul, though) form—answered the door.

"Blair, is Liz here?" I asked.

She shook her head and pouted. "No. I'm all alone. Maka and Soul went on a date and left me here by myself." Her frown grew deeper. She was really melodramatic.

I nodded, confused by the prospect of Maka and Soul on a date. Could that happen?

"But," I looked up when Blair started speaking again, "I thought I heard Maka talking about a new cosmetics store down the street from here. Doesn't Liz like that kind of thing?"

"Yes," I answered. "She would love that."

Blair shrugged. "Then maybe she's there."

I nodded. "Thanks Blair."

"You're welcome." And she shut the door.

I started down the street and soon found the store—well not soon. I started down the street and got completely lost before I realized it was the other end of the street—that Blair had told me about. I tried looking in through the window of it, but I didn't see Liz anywhere inside it. That's when a voice startled me;

"Kid?"

I spun around to see Maka standing there, Soul beside her.

"What are you doing outside a makeup store?" asked Soul.

"Looking for Liz," I replied. "I tried seeing if she was with you guys, but you weren't home. And Blair told me you were on a date."

As the words left my mouth, their faces turned extremely red.

"THAT WITCHY CAT DOESN'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL SHE'S TALKING ABOUT!" Maka shrieked.

"That is so not cool. Why would I ever like Miss Tiny-Tits over here?" asked Soul.

Maka glared at him, flushed from anger and embarrassment. "Excuse me?! YOU CALL ME THAT ONE MORE TIME AND I SWEAR I'LL GET A DICTIONARY AND MAKA-CHOP YOUR HEAD SO FAR INTO THE GROUND THAT IT'LL BURN UP IN THE CENTER OF THE EARTH, YOU HEAR ME?!"

And so their screaming argument began. I wondered how it was possible they could even resonate.

But of course, that wasn't the end of the screaming. Because where there's people making a scene, there's Black*Star.

Said boy burst in during the middle of their argument.

"Maka! Soul!" he bellowed. Tsubaki followed behind him as he began to make his speech about how they should not get all the attention because he was the one who was going to surpass god and become the greatest meister ever, blah, blah, blah.

"Hey Tsubaki," I said to the quiet girl as the three louder idiots began a huge argument, "have you seen Liz?"

"I believe I passed by her earlier," Tsubaki answered. "She looked like she was heading home."

I slapped my forehead. I ran all around Death City and she'd gone home.

"Thanks Tsubaki." With that, I turned and walked the other direction, away from all the commotion. By the time I got home again, it was pretty late. I rushed in and to Liz and Patty's room, throwing open the door like I did what seemed like an eternity ago.

Sure enough, both girls were sitting on their beds. Liz was filing her nails, and Patty was coloring what looked like a really messed up gorilla while a bunch of crumpled up pieces of rainbow-colored paper were scattered around her.

"Oh hey, Kid," Liz said nonchalantly, oblivious to the fact that I'd spent all freaking night looking for her.

"Hi," I replied, a little winded from my journey. "Liz…I need your help. Could you help me dye my hair?"

Liz looked a little surprised. "Um, sure. We'd just need the dye. Do you have some?"

Dye. I'd spent all night looking for Liz so she can dye my hair and I forgot to get dye.

"I have some!" Patty suddenly burst out. I stared at her in confusion. She opened the drawer of her bedside table and whipped out two bottles of hair dye; one black and one looking like a golden blonde. "Kiddo-kun said he needed hairy dye, so while he was out I bought some for him, and some for me!" She held up the blonde bottle.

"Thanks," I said, "but…that color is the exact color you already have in your hair…"

"So?" she replied. She threw the bottle of black at me and started tossing the other one between her hands. Liz and I gave her a look like we were seriously concerned about her mental health (which we were) and we walked out of the room.

Liz ushered me into the bathroom and plopped me on the stool before the sink so I saw my reflection in the mirror. She took the bottle from me out and began applying the dye to the stripes in my hair. I don't know why, but I was getting excited. Probably because I wouldn't be asymmetrical anymore. Liz then put tin foil in my hair and told me to let it sit for a while.

An hour later, Liz brought me before the mirror again and took out the tin foil.

"There!" she exclaimed. "Now you're…symmetrical…" she trailed off. We both gaped at the sight before us.

I didn't have white stripes in my hair any longer.

I had navy blue strips.

"I-I don't understand!" Liz shouted, looking frantically at the bottle. Apparently, the color was dark navy, not black, so Patty had mistaken it for black.

I was stunned.

I looked horrid.

At least with the white my hair could match my outfit, but the blue completely clashed!

So I let out a blood-curdling howl.

Probably frightened by my sudden outburst, Patty poked her head into the bathroom. After a few seconds of simply staring at me, she exploded into laughter.

"Kiddo is blue!" she gasped between laughed. "Kiddo is blue!"

I saw Liz try to suppress a grin. "You do look kind of funny, Kid…" After, she lost it and joined Patty.

At first, seeing them laughing at me, it felt pretty bad. I looked terrible. But then I realized just how funny I looked with navy blue in my hair, and that they were laughing with me.

…And I started to laugh too.
You may think we're insane; three teenagers hooting uncontrollably in a bathroom with blue hair dye in one kid's hair, but it was funny to us.

I was asymmetrical.

And yes I would throw myself a fit over it later.

But at the moment, that didn't really matter, because I was pretty freaking tired, and my two weapon partners and I all agreed I looked pretty damn hilarious.