A/N: Don't you know that when you have three other series that need to be worked on, you go and start up a brand new one? I have a lot of stories hanging around with Black Star and Kid because I like writing the two of them so much. Because of that, I decided to shove them all into a series I can add to whenever the mood strikes me. The timeline will jump back and forth, along with genre and all that, so we'll see where this all goes. Thank you and enjoy!
Disclaimer: Soul Eater is owned by Atsushi Okubo.
1. Reputation
Without a doubt, he was the greatest assassin who would ever live. He was the big man, the human who would surpass God, the man who didn't shy away from anything except his own reflection when it captured an overabundant quantity of star power. He didn't back down from challenges and as soon as he could find a way to kick the sun, by God, he'd do it and prove that idiot Ox wrong.
So when it came to beating down the child of Death in a way that left the young reaper bedridden for a week and unable to attend school for a month, did Black Star feel bad?
Not particularly, no.
What irked the blue-haired teen was the idea of a rematch residing so far in the future. Would he have to wait for a month and a week for this 'Death the Kid' to return? Did he have that long to soak in the spoils of his victory before another one could be secured? Oh, no. He wouldn't be able to manage. To soak that long, Black Star feared he would grow wrinkly, like a prune. An insignificant, elderly-skinned prune no one would take seriously because his win against Lord Death's son would be old news. If he and his reputation were to thrive, they would have to feast on the accomplishments of the present.
These thoughts rotated around the assassin's head like a tedious gnat while he sat in class. It wasn't until after he'd dismissively waved his hand at the irritating buzzing that he realized it had been Maka talking to him. Her words were lost to him while he continued to mull over the slow depletion of his reputation.
It had been two days since Lord Death's son laid foot on the Academy's ground, and, much to Black Star's dismay, the talk of the assassin's victory had died yesterday afternoon. He'd scarcely heard any word of his heroic battle. Instead, any snippets of conversation he heard had been about the shinigami child. Was he doing alright, students wondered. His fighting skills were top notch, others had noted. Both gossiping parties had been dealt with by Black Star's burning glares and declarations that the reaper's skills were lies. He was particularly careful about deflecting all inquiries about the bruises and scabs on his arms, denying all accusations that he'd received the blemishes from Death the Kid.
By the end of the third day, all talk of the battle between the assassin and reaper had trickled away, leaving Black Star in a mood Soul dubbed as 'bitchy diva.' Black Star glowered at his friend upon receiving the title but chose not to argue. It was then the star's gloominess was quickly replaced by an epiphany, something Soul considered all the more terrifying.
It was perfect, Black Star had bellowed. If he wanted, no... needed this fight, he would get it. Instead of waiting for the beaten reaper, he'd bring his stardom to the cowering, golden-eyed teen. He would track him down, go on a hunt and return with a story that would become the greatest in the DWMA's history. The tale of the Academy's founding would be nothing more than a diary entry compared to this grand legend.
Soul hesitantly backed away from the wild look in his friend's eye and turned to retreat completely when the maniacal laughter started, but he was captured and left gasping for air as Black Star wrapped a determined arm around his neck.
They would strike after school, Black Star decided. When classes were let out, he and Soul would fall upon the front door of Gallows Manor like hellhounds and tear their way inside. The defenseless shinigami would be found, the quarrel would ensue, and Black Star would leave victorious.
It wasn't until after Soul had turned a disturbing shade of plum that Black Star released him and gave him a determined grin. His hopes were then crushed once Soul regained the ability to breath and trampled over the plan, indignantly responding he would not be attending this triumphant hunt of Black Star's. His internal organs were still familiar with the reaper's abilities from a few days prior and he wanted nothing more than to recuperate in peace. The scythe went on to add, albeit rather sheepishly, that he wouldn't have been able to accompany Black Star anyway. It was his turn to cook that night, and Maka would throw a fit if he skipped out for a third time.
Disappointed in his friend's sudden decision to abandon him, Black Star had shrugged off the matter, convincing himself the spoils of war would be all his. One-handedly, Black Star would fight the son of Lord Death. Oh, yes. He could see the rumors now.
The day went by slowly, but Black Star was okay with that. He waited and plotted, deciding what kind of attack he would use. Would he try for stealth, catch the young reaper off guard, or perhaps break through the house like a horrendous thunderstorm? Unable to choose, Black Star filed the options away to be pondered on his trip to Gallows Manor.
The sun's eyes were drooping heavily by the time Black Star jumped off the last step of the Academy's great staircase. He hit the cobblestone, gaze darting every which way as he searched for the right street. In all honesty, he wasn't completely sure where his target lived, making it all the more embarrassing when Tsubaki timidly offered her assistance. She was called sweet for her help, but Black Star insisted he find the manor himself. Instead, he told his partner if she truly wanted to help, perhaps a heaping bowl of miso soup would be awaiting his arrival back home? He made sure to drop a few hints regarding fried tofu and soy sauce and judging by Tsubaki's compassionate smile, he knew she'd understood.
Due to the speed and agility he'd been perfecting over the years, finding Gallows Manor didn't take long at all. Since it had only been a matter of charging down street after street, the large home had been one of his stopping points near the edge of the city. It glowed slightly in the late afternoon's sun, and Black Star crept up the walkway like a beetle, scuttling low to the ground on his fingers.
Going through the front door, or any door, didn't strike his fancy. The assassin deemed the element of surprise to be the best course of action for this mission, so he circled the grand establishment, peering up at the windows while trying to determine which belonged to the shinigami. Each window and curtain was arranged with flawless symmetry, so Black Star was unable to guess based on that detail. Would he have no other choice but to crash through a random window, or should he wait until his target passed by?
Twelve seconds crouched in the shrubbery was all Black Star could handle before he launched himself skyward, grasping onto one of the second floor's window frames and propelling his legs to the side. He heard the explosion of glass and soared through the shattered pane, rolling across the wooden floor before halting in a kneeling position. He viewed his surroundings, growling quietly at what the view had to offer. The room he found himself in was all manner of fluffy and cute, clearly not the symmetrical goth-fest he'd been expecting.
There came a quiet hum of confusion from his right, and the assassin pivoted in the direction of the sound, raising his arms and preparing to do battle. A blonde with large, awestruck blue eyes sat on the giant bed near the corner of the room, mouth hanging open while she watched him.
Black Star cursed silently, forgetting about the two who'd been with Death the Kid when he'd first arrived at the Academy. He couldn't remember their names, but he could certainly remember their weapon forms and the bite of their attacks. But now that he thought about it, he didn't suppose either gun could do much without the other or their meister. If necessary, he could turn this business into a hostage situation.
He heard rapid footsteps approaching and by the time the owner had skidded to a halt in the doorway, Black Star was on his feet and ready to spring. His target stood before him, wide eyed and demanding to know what had happened. The grim reaper's eyes then locked on the tense assassin, and he tilted his head to the side, muttering quietly if he'd been the blue-haired spazz from school.
Black Star let the comment slide, though he was quick to announce his plans to fight the reaper right then and there. He cracked his knuckles and flexed his fingers, looked his target up and down, and advised his opponent to defend himself.
Death the Kid, on the other hand, appeared more reluctant to fight than an oak tree and stared at Black Star as though he couldn't quite figure if the other boy was entirely human. When he turned to his partner, laughter erupted from the gleeful blonde which seemed to put the reaper at ease.
The assassin scowled. His target wasn't bed-ridden like everyone had been saying! He looked perfectly healthy, and now he wasn't even going to fight him? Black Star had come all this way to revive his reputation and this puny reaper, in his mundane T-shirt and jeans, wasn't even going to bat an eyelash at the prospect of a scuffle? It was positively infuriating!
Focusing on Black Star once again, the young shinigami raised his hands in a puzzled shrug and asked rather dubiously if the assassin was hungry. It was then Black Star noted the faint smell that wafted into the room, pulling a traitorous groan from the depths of his empty stomach. Now the reaper was enticing his stomach to betray him and catch him off guard? That was even worse!
Raising a suspicious eyebrow, Black Star demanded to know what the other was plotting. Had dinner been poisoned, sprinkled with a dose of cyanide to end him quickly and conveniently so a gory mess wouldn't disrupt the symmetry of the manor?
Death the Kid looked taken aback by the accusation but didn't bother denying the food may be toxic seeing as Liz had been the one to do the cooking. In all honesty, the reaper was shocked the aromas from the kitchen hadn't knocked them dead on the spot.
The assassin lowered his hands, a bewildered look passing over his face as he tried to sort through his predicament. He asked the grim reaper to repeat himself, to clarify if he'd actually been invited to eat and it wasn't a ploy to stick him in a grave. If that was the case, why? Why was his enemy inviting him to eat at his table when Black Star had made it clear he intended to beat the other down?
The shinigami continued to look at a loss with each inquiry before finally stating he was in no mood to quarrel with the blue-haired teen and was actually quite hungry. Courtesy could be blamed for the sudden invitation he offered Black Star. However, he wouldn't be at all disappointed if the assassin refused and left them to their supper.
Another pleasant scent trailed through Black Star's nose, and he folded his arms across his chest, responding that he wouldn't leave his opponent in peace and would gladly disrupt their peaceful dinner. After all, if his enemy was to dangle the prospect of a warm meal in front of the assassin only to yank it away, he would have to eat. He wouldn't be denied a meal.
As he followed the reaper and demon weapon out of the room, Death the Kid assured him that he didn't mind sharing their dinner and he wouldn't deny Black Star food. The blue-haired meister raised a hand, casting aside all protests and insisting he, as the great star that he was, would eat every last crumb of food if he had to. That would show the reaper, and if it didn't, perhaps reminding the symmetry-fanatic of the busted window would.
Meanwhile, from where she sat with a serving of cold soup and marinated tofu, Tsubaki began to wonder what her meister had gotten himself into.
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A/N: And that's the first chapter. I had fun writing it and hope you enjoyed reading. Let me know what you think because, like Black Star, the review button is quite the star itself. Thank you.