A/N-Hey everyone! I fell in love with this show and these characters a few weeks ago, so I thought I might attempt a fanfic about it! WARNING! I don't really like to update unless I'm satisfied with the chapter 100%, so expect QUALITY, not QUANTITY!
Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater!
ENJOY! AND REVIEW!
A Butterfly's Wings
Chapter 1
First Day of School
A Crash-Course with Destiny?
"Today was a fairytale, you were the Prince, I used to be a damsel in distress."
When the melody reached Maka Albarn's delicate ears, she moaned in annoyance, not wanting to get up from her comfy position under her floral covers.
Not able to block out the noise with her pillows, the dirty-blond haired girl rolled over and swung her arms in the direction of her clock in an attempt to stop the obnoxious noise from going on any longer.
Finally! Her hand made contact with the off button.
The young girl, around fifteen years of age, sat up in her bed with a yawn. She had been anticipating this day for weeks, even was going to be her first day at Death Weapon Meister Academy, the DWMA for short.
Most girls her age would be going to school to learn how to do triginometry in Algebra II, or how to whip up a casserole in five easy steps in Home Ec. However...
Death Weapon Meister Academy was a very, very unique school.
This particular school rested on a hill in the middle of Death City, Nevada. The town thrived with many people, stores, and homes. However, the gothic themed school is not what makes this city special at city was the home of the Grim Reaper himself, but here, he is simply known as Lord Death.
He was the one to open the school for young Meisters, a fancy word for weapon wielders, and magic weapons, people who had the unique ability to transform their body into a dangerous and potentially powerful weapon.
Lord Death started this school to train young meisters and their partner weapons to fight and rid the world of demons known as Kishin. Kishin are lost souls who have verged off the path of humanity and onto an evil one, filled with lust for power and madness.
The goal of every meister and weapon team was to collect ninety-nine evil Kishin souls and the soul of one witch, in that order.
Once that was completed, the weapon was turned into a "Death Scythe" using the power from the Kishin souls and the magic of the witch soul. Stangely enough, they were not all literal scythes. Weapons come in many forms, some being pistols, crossbows, swords, spears, scythes, and many more, but scythes are the rarest.
Maka knew all of these things, she was not a ignorant girl. She had done her research a few weeks before hand to find out just what she was getting into.
The tired girl slowly pulled the covers off, once again stretching and yawning as she swung her legs down and slipped on her fuzzy house shoes. She slowly hobbled over to her own private bathroom she had within her room. As she slipped on her robe, she shifted her big, green eyes over into a large mirror, and gave a small gasp of horror.
She looked in her mirror only to behold her long locks in a rat's nest of tangles, as well as one or two blemishes here and there on her face. Maka wasn't one to obsess over her outward appearance, but today was her first day at DWMA, and the first day also meant that today would be her first impression on everyone.
The young lady, even though a teenager, didn't enjoy wearing a lot of makeup, it made her feel self-conscious. She had never had a steady hand, and always seemed to slip up right at the last minute, usually on something important like eyeliner or mascara. Luckily today she wouldn't need a steady hand to help her, a little cover up ought to do her well.
Her hair though..
At first she tried slowly to comb it through, with no results but pain. With a little more aggression, she tried once more, only to get the same result. After many attempts to untangle this beast that her hair had turned into overnight, she knew just what to do.
She'd simply go as Mama for help!
Kami Albarn was an incredible woman. She had divorced her husband, Spirit, a few months back. She was never a woman to believe in divorce, but this was the last straw. Spirit had gone too far, coming home after drinking a little too much at Chupa Cabra's, then yelling at Maka for any little slip-up he could manage to find. That night was the straw that broke the camel's back, Kami yelled back, loud and clear, and let her husband know just how she felt about his cheating habits.
Maka was in the midst of all of this, and it left her devastated. She had always been closer to her mother than her father, and seeing her father yell at her own mother, his wife, like that, smashed her heart into tiny pieces. Since then, Maka has had little to nothing to do with her father, Spirit, and avoided his annoying doting at all cost.
That was three months ago.
Even now, Kami was doing an amazing job of raising Maka by herself, keeping her status as being one of the DWMA's best Meisters, and keeping her and her daughter's small home of her neat and tidy all while brining home the bacon, one might say.
"Mama! Mama! Can you help me?! I woke up and it was like this!" Maka said, a frustrated tone in her voice, with a touch of agony from her head being so sore from all the yanking she had been doing.
Kami sighed, her daughter was absolutely perfect in her light green eyes. She had looked at Maka in the same manner all of her life, with adoration. She was proud of her daughter, and knew that if she had the potential that she herself had in school, Maka might just pass her someday.
The middle-aged woman motioned for her daughter to come and sit on a stool in the kitchen. Maka sulked the entire short walk over. Her hair being all the way down her back was hard enough to take care of, this could take forever. The last thing Maka wanted was to be late on her first day at the academy.
Maka could feel the gentle tugging of a comb in her hair, she could tell it was by her mother's hand. Despite being a powerful fighter, her mother had always been a kind, gentle spirit around her only daughter.
"Hun, I can't get through these mats.. I think we might have to cut it," whispered Kami.
Maka didn't even want to argue, there were only thirty minutes left until the acadamy's orientation started, and it took fifteen minutes ride there on her large, purple bike. She was so stressed with the time, she almost spat, "Do what you have to!"
Kami jerked back a little when she heard her daughters harsh tone. Maka was always one to be punctual, even if it meant biting everyone's head off in the process.
She reached for the scissors, "Aw Maka.."
Whoosh!
Thirteen inches of tangled mass fell to the floor.
The only thing Maka noticed was an extremely light head. Maka looked down and merely gave a snobby passing glance at her mass of hair on the floor.
"That's fine, I never liked it anyway," Maka lied.
Maka peddled her bike down the mauve brick road.
"Today was a fairytale, you were the Prince," Maka sung to herself, it had always been one of her favorite songs, and it happened to be stuck in her mind this morning thanks to her radio.
How could Maka resist taking a nice bike ride to school today? The fresh air filling her lungs gave her energy as she pushed the peddles firmly, but not so much that she was blazing by everyone.
Death City's roads were very smooth and flat, great for walking, driving, and riding bikes on. She was riding on Reaper Road now, hoping to get to Main Street before a quarter till.
Just as she was about to reach her turn off, something caught her eye. A woman dressed in an all black cloak was giving her an uncomfortable stare, accompanied by a smile that could scare fear itself.
The woman was staring right at Maka, her snake-like eyes following her every move.
"Hey! WATCH OUUUUU---!" a loud voice cried. Maka turned her head only to see a collision she could not prevent.
CRASH!
Dust flew everywhere. Maka went unconscious for a few seconds, but woke to find that all that she could feel was the pain seared through her upper leg. She grunted from the discomfort of her position.
When Maka opened her eyes, everything was a bit blurry, but in a matter of seconds her sight cleared. She felt something warm and firm underneath her body. She opened her eyes only too meet her victims, their faces roughly three inches apart.
He was a young man, appearing no more than sixteen or seventeen. He had white hair with a headband in it. His crimson red eyes were staring up into her sparkling green eyes, holding her gaze intensely.
Maka blushed furiously, and tried to push herself off of him. When she did however, that same pain seared through her leg, more so than last time.
She only managed to roll over, getting off of the boy but ending up beside him. She grabbed her leg when a good dose of pain shot threw it.
The boy sat up, shook his head, and studied the situation. He could only assume that by the way she was acting, she had hurt her leg when she crashed into him. He wanted to yell at her for not paying attention to where she was going, but now was not the time.
"Oi! Somebody! This girl needs some help!" his deep voice cried.
Soon a small crowd formed around the two, many questions coming from them about the situation.
"What happened?!"
"Is she ok?"
"What did you do to her?!"
All these questions at one time were overwhelming to him, he snapped back, "I didn't do anything to her! She crashed into me because she wasn't looking where she was going, you got that?!"
He only stopped because the young girl moaned in pain, he looked down at her, put his hand on her shoulder, and said in the calmest voice he could summon, "Hey, you okay?"
"No..." the small voice choked up, eyes tearing and grabbing her leg. "My leg hurts," she let the tears fall down her flushed cheeks, "really bad..."
His eyes softened, her voice was so...
Feeble and weak..
An abulence pulled up, thank God someone had called 911. The paramedics pulled up and put her on a stretcher, being careful of her injured leg. When they finally got her into the ambulence, the young man heard her shout, "NO! I can't go to the hospital! I have to find my weopon today! Lord Death's gonna kill me! Let me out of here!"
A few curses came out of her mouth too, but he couldn't make them out. He realized that they were heading for the same destination that day.
They both were going to the orientation at Death Weapon Meister Acadamy.
Realizing this, he ran up to the ambulence and jumped inside.
"Hey, did you just say something about finding... a weapon?" he asked, as if he couldn't make out what she said earlier.
"Yes, I was on my way to the DWMA, but unfourtunatly I crashed into you... Sorry about that."
"No problem."
There was an awkward silence between the two for a minute or two.
"I'm heading to the DWMA today too, just to let you know," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
"Really? ...Weapon or Meister?" Maka whispered, she was falling asleep. The medicine they had given her was making her drowsy.
"Weapon, I don't know what kind though, Lord Death just said I was one. Your a meister, right?"
Something about his attempt at a cool voice made her let a small giggle out. Suddenly her face turned serious. She sensed something in her soul for a moment. Was it... his wavelength?
Yes, yes it was!
Maka was born with the gift of Soul Perception, the ability of a meister to determine the shape and size of a soul. She could also sence a soul's wavelength from a mile away.
His wavelength though, was different from any other she had seen. She examined her own to see if a theory that had just developed in her mind was correct.
She gave a small gasp when she found that her theory was correct. The reason why she had never senced a soul like his before. They had a soul connection. They had...
Matching soullengths.
"What is it," he asked, noticing her eyes widen, "are you ok?"
"I have Soul Perception, and well, I just sensed your soul wavelength."
"And?"
"It matches... mine... perfec.." Maka fell asleep before she could finish the sentance.
The young man gently touched her delicate, unconscious hand.
"Then starting today, we should be partners. You seem cool enough."
And with that, he sat down on the bench inside the ambulence. Going to the hospital with her was the least he could do for his new partner. Then he realized it was ten after eight.
"Whatever," he looked up and smiled, "being on time is so uncool."