AN: First fic feels kinda surreal. Semi AU, Five year time skip. Kidd-centric. All of the kids are 17-19 now, raging hormones ftw. Main pairing will be Kidd/Maka, I'll throw in a bit more along the way. Will contain violence, adult themes, and the like later on, so rated M to be safe.
Key:
"Symmetry" -Dialogue
'Symmetry' -Thoughts
Symmetry -Attack/technique names
"Symmetry" -Spoken attack/technique names
Disclaimer: Everything on this page and all others to come are the byproduct of Atsushi Okubo.
So no, I don't own Soul Eater
Or America
Or the world
Yet.
Death
The occasional grunt, rush of air, meeting of blows, were all music.
What was it, exactly?
In B minor of course; thinking music.
Death was absolute
A light sheen of sweat covered the young Shinigami's half-naked body, a leg lashed out, hoping to gain purchase of his opponent's ribs.
It was merciful
His opponent was not a normal one, however. The blow connected with little to no effect. Kidd cringed. A monstrous white hand swiped at him.
Yet cruel
Citrate eyes flashed with oppritunity. He deftly dodged the hand, grabbing his adversary's arm and using his momentum against him with a simple judo-esque toss. At the apex of the toss, however, Death the Kid sent another kick at his opponent, this one serious.
Death even had a sense of humor, if it's receiver still had enough breath to laugh
A black streak ricocheted off of his foot and dug a trench into the ground, about ten meters in length, Kidd surmised. A few of the many crosses adorning the room were uprooted and/or broken.
You couldn't cheat Death, not at its own game
The figure stood to his full length, brushing dirt from its seemingly ethereal form. His stark white mask seemed to match the triad of stripes on his son's head, the middle one fully wrapped around the uniform cut of black hair.
It had been playing since the beginning of time, making rules, exceptions, keeping score
" Oh, I see one of the cute stripes on my little son's hair has grown, ne?" Shinigami-sama, Grip Reaper, Death Himself cocked his head to a side, as a dog might. " Your progression with the Lines of Sanzu is going along handsomely, son.", an index finger nearly the size of Kidd's head pointed to the side. " You no longer require BREW's assistance?" It was more of a statement than a question, the Demon Tool having been abandoned by the younger Death two days ago, out of the eight they had been continuously fighting.
The only way to play the game was to lose
" Hai, Chichiue. Without BREW, sustaining a single Line of Sanzu for a few days seems to be child's play now. Of course while using Elizabeth and Patricia, it may be a bit more taxing." He nodded slowly, as if complying with himself.
Of course one could always take their chances with the game of Life
Death the elder clapped, the action seemingly comical with his huge hands. " Nyo, I see..." The air instantly changed, Kidd could've sworn that he could see his breath, as if walking outside on a nippy morning.
But Life was a long and complicated game, many who played had little to no choice in the matter
The eyeholes in Shinigami-sama's mask shifted into triangular slits, his voice rumbling with promises of pain. On Kidd's part, an effort was taken not to shiver. The dark form of Father Death tensed as he spoke. "Let's get serious, then." Then he vanished. Kidd blinked.
Many players of Life gladly played Death when given the chance
There was a roar of "SHINIGAMI CHOP!". Maka looked up from a book she was reading in the apartment she and Soul still shared. Stein almost managed to drop his cigarette from his mouth, before continuing a supplementary lesson with a few unfortunate students. Black Star felt a wave of 'big' wash over him and wobbled slightly. Then completed his hundredth two-finger push-up. And Kidd? He smirked.
In addition to being a game, Death was also a very lucrative business
Four large tendrils of shadow emerged from his body, shadows of macabre dancing at his feet.
Some animals, such as scavengers and predators lived off of Death's blessing
A single Shinigami Skull Arm quickly latched to one of the many black crosses behind Kidd, pulling him back, and out of the Shinigami Chop's way. Shinigami-sama's oversized hand crashed into the earth, causing a crater of unholy size and throwing up a haze of debris and dirt, obscuring both of the Deaths' vision.
Some animals, such as gangsters, dictators, and morticians, did the same
Tension was heavy in the air as both of the Death Gods considered their next move. A Skull Arm lashed out at Shibusen's headmaster, ripping out a small chunk of his shadowy side. The opening he had been waiting for. "If your attack when in a situation of stealth will give away your location..." In the span of a fragment of a second, Shinigami-sama's arm extended and warped, then cracked like a whip, his fist flying in the direction of the attack. The blow connected solidly. "Then what you do is simple; don't attack."
At the end, though, Death has the highest profit
Grim Reaper prepared to give a patronizing lecture to the shape that flew out of the haze. With a blink, he decided not to. Beelzebub lacked ears, after all. A smooth trick, he had to admit.
All of his investors ended up paying with their lives
A malevolent beam of black light shot at him, burning the air surrounding it with a crackle of heat. The eyeholes widdened With the flick of a wrist and a hand the size of a small hippo, Shinigami-sama deflected the attack. Barely. The beam of...death went along it's way, the burning air in it's path of flight forming small skull-like wisps. Shinigami-sama craned his head slightly and peered at his arm. The arc of purple lightning traveling about it tingled. No doubt enough amps to fry a human's blood. He was far from human, as his son knew.
As was Death
" Ne?" The single syllable, long and drawn out, cut through the silence. " Kidd-kun decided to use that attack on me? My son is really cutthroat, nyo?"
Kidd scoffed and folded his arms in front of his chest, the two Shinigami dispelling the dust cloud around them with a small 'shrug' of wavelength. "When dealing with you, Chichiue, I have no choice. If I'm to remove your mask by today"--
"Why today, Kidd-kun?" The Shinigami inquired, despite having already known the answer.
Death the younger gave his father a derisively flat stare. "Today is the eighth day of this hell you call training." Kidd could've sworn he felt a smile behind that mask.
"Sou ka. Will you be okay to fight after using that move?"
Despite himself, Kidd threw a glance to his right hand. The fingers he had used to discharge the blast, index and middle, were charred and bloody, slightly and very much so, respectively.
Death the Kid nodded and gave a status report. "With the middle Line of Sanzu connected, it doesn't take as large of a toll on my soul as usual, and though its sheer force and inertia cause minor burns and tears on its medium of discharge, my fingers in this case, the Shinigami Skin keeps damage to a minimum. This is a great improvement from where attempting to shoot it off using my palm blew my arm off. The reattachment was an easy one, but painful nonetheless." He blinked once, golden eyes sharp.
Shinigami glowed with pride. Developing a new Shinigami Technique. His son was something else. "Very well then. Let's continue." A yellow, semi-transparent skull-shaped plate slammed down on Kidd without preamble. He gasped in surprise, the air knocked from his lungs, ground at his feet cracking. Correction; cracked. His feet dug into the earth, accordingly. He managed to remain upright though, using his enormous leg strength and sheer force of will. He dug his heels into the ground, and in a flash of motion, his father's shield was decimated. Cut into fourths, the spent shield politely faded from existence.
Adorning the gunslinger's forearms were small variants of the Skull Shield, a little over a yard in length. The edges of the lower, three-pronged skull were sharp as the sharpest of blades, silently cutting through the air. Again, the older Shinigami felt that swell of pride. Managing to put his own variant on an old Shinigami Technique. Once more, his son was something else.
Meanwhile, the son in question glanced around wildly, searching for his father. ' In front, behind, left, right? Below?' He smiled at that; Chichiue wasn't Sid. The hairs on his neck rose. 'Above.' An arm rose just in time to block a gout of searing blue flame, the product of one of his father's Jets. 'Just protect the face, the eyes', he told himself; calm despite the azure inferno dancing around his body. 'The Shinigami Skin will do it's job. Since I'm a Shinigami, burns of first and second degree don't faze me.' With his opposite arm, Kidd slashed at his airborne father, forcing him to remove the flame as he moved out of swiping range.
Surprising them both, Kidd pursued his father into the sky. They traded blows momentarily, a kick, a chop, a slash, before Shinigami-sama managed to get a hold of his son's foot and unceremoniously chuck him across the sky. 'Why does this room have a sky, anyway?' Beelzebub bid its master's silent call and met Kidd's feet. It took a moment for him to adjust, the Shinigami youth floating shakily.
His father hovered a bit a distance away. "Is now the time to lounge around, Kidd-kun? Spring Break is nearly over.", he taunted. "Liz-chan and Patti-chan are supposedly throwing a big pool party at the Gallow's Mansion. I know you'd be devastated to miss Maka-chan in a bathing suit. She's starting to bud into quite the young woman, no?" He leaned to a side, dodging a dangerous-looking Tornado Flip from Beelzebub.
Kidd followed soon after. "C'mon, Kidd-kun," he dodged a kick, followed by a spinning chop. "the son of Shinigami-sama and the daughter of Death Scythe would make a good couple, no?" A roundhouse kick with enough force to break a grown man's neck was ducked. " In about ten years from now, I'll have small grandchildren with cute little stripes and pigtails." A double spin kick was blocked, each foot making a dull thud on Shinigami-sama's hands and small shockwaves of force. "Look at that," he drawled. " the Shinigami Skin isn't resistant to blushing."
That was Kidd's limit. "SHINIGAMI CHOP!" A shadowy pitch-black silhouette looking vaguely like one of Shinigami-sama's hands covered Kidd hand and swung at his father's face. Grim Reaper's back was parallel to the earth, their descent to the earth about a yard away. There was no escape. If present, Black Star would say, "You're fucked, Shinigami-sama....with all due respect." The faux hand collided with Shinigami-sama's Skull Shield, the defense shattering instantly. The resulting shockwave kicked up a buffeting wind, blowing even more of the black crosses crooked. Grudgingly, Shinigami-sama's form rocketed into the ground. The crater created was bigger than Kidd had anticipated. Not quite as big as Chichiue's, but getting there.
Kidd deftly landed on his feet, the dust settling. His father rose from the crater a bit shakily. There was a pause of silence as Kidd took the Stance of Sin, preparing to go at it once more. " At ease, Kidd-kun." Chichiue's voice was back to the chipper and benevolent headmaster's. "You win." Kidd slid out of his stance, slightly confused. A resounding crack answered his question, Shinigami-sama's bone white mask cracking perfectly down the middle. 'Perfectly.'
The halves silently dropped to the ground. "Wheeew. We should do this more often, Kidd-kun; an old man needs to stay in shape." He nonchalantly reached for another mask, hidden inside his cloak.
"You're fine, Chichiue." Kidd pretended not to notice the subtle labored breaths his father produced. Shinigami-sama ignored the shudder of his son's soul as the white band encompassing Kidd's head receded. Pride was a fickle thing. Father and son locked eyes for a moment, words going unspoken, but understood. The two pairs of golden optics glinted like ancient treasure. Then the elder Death put the new mask on his face. The dull black pits were hardly a sufficient substitute.
"You should get moving, Kidd-kun," The warm and caring voice gently pulled Kidd from his thoughts. "your friends are waiting."
"Indeed they are, Chichiue." Kidd's arms extended in unison as he channeled his soul wavelength. They moved as one in strange, liquid movements, arcane signs of power. Then, Death the Kid vanished.
A way's away, a black shoe stepped seemingly from nowhere, a smile adorning the handsome weapon's face. In addition, a neatly cut goatee graced the face as well, the same blood-red color as the middle-aged man's hair. Death Scythe chuckled at his meister's form, then lidded his hues. "He sure is your son, Shinigami-sama."
A masked head cocked to a side, mere feet away from the formerly named Spirit. "What is that supposed to mean, Spirit-kun?"
Onyx eyes flew open. The weapon, the weapon cringed with fear. 'When did he get there?' "Shi-shi-shinigami--" A moment of unaccountable violence later, Spirit was laid out on the ground, a decisive dent adorning his head.
"Eavesdrop on my father-son time, and I'll hit you with my Direct Noggin Shinigami Chop!" A fist shook at the Death Scythe before pausing mid-shake. "How'd you get in here, anyway?"
Without the permission of Shinigami-sama himself, one could not leave nor enter the Death Room. General knowledge. Spirit pointed a finger a hundred yards off or so, comical bruise gone. "That."
Where a cloud-and-sky background once was, there was Death city, in the shape of a rather large hole. Around the hole, a black skull was audaciously stamped, purple lightning dancing about the skull's shape. Shinigami-sama was silent, Spirit's cue to continue. " It looks exactly the same on the outside, instead you're right outside of Shibusen and looking into here. That...lightning nearly fried my wavelength whenever I got close to the entrance; I managed to get in in weapon form, though." The Shinigami was still silent. Spirit was about to add a pinch of constructive criticism when he was cut off.
"Sugoi...Kidd-kun should really give that thing a name."
Death Scythe was lost. Shouldn't Shinigami-sama be angry, outraged? "Nani?"
Shinigami-sama's head turned slowly to his partner, as if he had forgotten he were there. "Huh?" Spirit noticed and recalled this habit. The Grim Reaper was in deep thought. "Perhaps we should discuss this over a cup of tea?"
AN: And there's chapter one. Please R&R, constructive criticism will be accepted and learned from, while flames such as "Omg u suk Black Star is beast Kids weak", will just be laughed at. Seriously, don't waste your time. Chapter two will be more filler-ish, focusing on fleshing out more characters and describing how they've grown over the time skip.
By the way, this is based off of the manga. The anime went to hell halfway through, and the sharp contrast between to two is easily noticeable. Keep that in mind.
Chop-chop, off to the review box. If I don't get eight reviews, Sid will revive. Or undie. Or... whatever he does at this point.