Calm, quiet symmetry. That was what had summarized the cool Spring morning. It had, but only for the brief early hours. Over the Spring Break that would usually see every student off campus, Shibusen Academy was holding a festival; this was due in part to the recent loss of a dorm hall that lead to students having to double up in rooms. A group of young meisters from the most packed girls' dorm collected signatures for three weeks to earn clearance from Shinigami to host the last-minute event that would accompany the break's mandatory soul-collection quota. By the time the break had begun, nearly every attendee of Shibusen, Meister and Weapon alike, had been somehow pulled into participating in the week-long event its founders had monikered the Spring Death Festival.
Teachers and senior students were in charge of things such as game and merchandise stalls, which would bring in revenue to fund the replacement dorms. Others were tasked to perform a variety show, wander the site in mascot costumes, or just hang around as guests. The younger students and their families were welcomed starting in the glowing daylight of the first morning that school was out, and for the next week between dawn and midnight, the festival would be open as a combination fair and fundraiser.
A smooth wooden sign with cloth letters stapled on, the product of last minute preparations, hung from a glimmering metal arch, greeting all who entered with a simple, "Welcome to the Sprig Death Festival." The 'n' from Spring had come unstapled in the night and was now drifting along the pavement of some sidestreet, uplifted by every small gust of wind to inch farther from its home on the sign.
Beyond the arch and its message were two rows of handmade stalls offering merchandise, raffle tickets, and chances to win stuffed animals and cheap candy by playing games rigged carnival style. These stands had been meticulously inspected, cataloged, placed, duplicated and replaced by the assistant director of the event, Lord Death's son. The touchy, sometimes obsessive meister now trod between them, scanning each pair as he passed for imperfections. There was an unspoken curiosity among assigned vendors as to whether the boy would be able to return once prizes began to be won and one side of stalls likely emptied of merchandise faster.
The empty field marked with stalls at regular intervals gained a bustling crowd by the time the earliest guests began to purchase lunch, and Kid quickly found himself staring down a nightmarish assortment of festival-goers, riddled with imperfections that left him reeling in his inability to adjust them. For ten minutes he sat with his chin resting over steepled fingers, staring at the grass and ignoring the receding complaints of his weapons Liz and Patty as they headed off to have fun on their own. Then a pair of white Mary Janes stepped into his view and stopped. "Kid?"
With a sigh that would have driven off anyone visiting him for some petty question on the festival, Kid trailed his eyes up from the intrepid shoes. He was unimpressed by the simple black tights that greeted his stare, and nearly turned away from the sight of a skirt that would most assuredly be asymmetrical. After an entire week of dealing with every imperfection his attention had been called to in preparation for the event falling into insignificance at the mere arrival of the jumble of unfamiliar guests, he needed to see something magnificent. So far, this ensemble was disappointing at best. It was, however, familiar enough that he didn't simply close his eyes.
Glancing up from the blue skirt whose pleats were ever so slightly disproportionate, past the shirttail that was longer than the one on the opposite side, his gaze seized upon a hideously unevenly patterned magenta tie. Immediately his eyes darted from shirtsleeves that ended above her wrists to the pressed cyan collar, then rested on the more acceptable view far from the bottom end of the tie with its single swirl pattern. A pair of brown pigtails, blessedly even, bounced against the shoulders he'd been trying to focus on as the girl who'd been standing before him bent down and put her left hand to her knee, waving the other in front of his face. "Earth to Kid."
Eyes of a crisp brown came into focus first, then the flatly cropped, styled bangs and tendrils of hair that continued down into her twintails. "Ah, Akemi," he sighed resignedly, finally recognizing the fellow meister. She was one of the few who tried (and more often than not failed) to appease his aversion to asymmetry, and Kid admired her devotion to toning down her own imperfections in his presence. "How are you?" the short, cheerful girl asked. The question garnered a curt response. "I've been much, much better," Kid admitted, raising his head as Akemi straightened up as well. He noticed as she did so a shade of coral with a slight sparkle that had been painted on her lips. The gloss was likely one of the other girls' doing, as it looked almost perfectly even. There was a small smear beside her upper lip, but Kid wasn't about to fix this one. "Was there something you needed?" he asked, his voice not betraying the discomfort at her irregularities. It was odd for him to feel flustered, anyway. After all, with Liz and Patty he felt perfectly justified in any alterations to their overall symmetry that could be considered awkward between a normal man and woman. His yellow gaze met her brown, and the girl's cheeks reddened a bit at the eye contact. She needed to come up with her reason quickly before anything could be deduced about her feelings.
"Er, I came here with Maka, and she, Blaise and Soul are all going to try to find some games to play. I saw you sitting over here and figured you could use the company. We could go find the most symmetrical stall and just stand there if you want," Akemi chimed, drawling on in an attempt to mask her nerves. Kid sighed again audibly, but this time failed to give off the 'leave me alone' annoyed vibe he'd tried to before he'd recognized his friend. "Let's go then," he concluded, pushing himself up from the table and turning sharply toward the inner row of food stalls. The brunette meister followed a step behind, her face regaining its pale but natural glow as the blush faded. "Which stand are we going to?" she asked curiously, trying to decide which traditional festival or fried carnival type food would be the most symmetrical. She expected something like takoyaki, moon cakes, or fried pickles. Needless to say, she was shocked when Kid came to a stop before the storefront behind which one of the older weapons was standing ready to fry up possibly the least even sweet in existence: Funnel cake. "Are you sure you want to buy this?" Akemi warned.
The girl had nothing against funnel cake; in fact, the warm, sugar-dusted pastry was about her favorite thing they could serve without having to slap on a warning label regarding fat calorie content. It was, however, uncharacteristic for Kid to agree to purchase something remotely as jumbled as the fried batter without first railing and despairing over the immorality of its existence and declaring it his enemy. Following the transfer of said asymmetrical product to his person, he would generally attempt to fix and/or destroy it. Akemi hoped this wasn't his intention this time around. She hadn't eaten yet and had no doubt that the sugary treat would be the best thing she'd had in days.
Kid ran his golden gaze over the sign listing topping options, lingering on several combinations before announcing in an admirably calm voice, "We'll have a single funnel cake with strawberries and extra powdered sugar." He wasn't going insane (or normal as some would see it,) nor was he giving in to some harbored temptation to go without his obsessive behavior. The mostly black-haired meister was simply trying to do something for the girl who'd kindly pandered to his compulsions at every expression of need. It wasn't as though he himself was going to ingest the twisted, mangled mess of a dessert, and the funnel cake would also detract his anxiety from Akemi's own asymmetry.
A long moment later, as Akemi still stared in confusion at the friend she harbored a deathly secret crush on, the treat buried beneath a mound of powdered sugar running volcanic red with strawberry sauce was passed from the vendor's hands to Kid's, and then immediately pushed into the girl's grasp. Once he'd paid and received his change, which he organized and donated a portion of to even out the distribution of bills and coins in his wallet, Kid gestured for Akemi to follow and began a slow walk through the aisle of stalls.
The kindly, sometimes childish brunette dug in as she walked, her every breath sending clouds of powdered sugar to mingle with the chilly Spring air. Some of it accumulated in a fine dusting on the back of his black jacket, crowded around his shoulder blade like a finely granulated congregation of tormentors waiting for him to notice the discoloration that would undoubtedly remind him that his hair would forever be uneven and leave him hollow inside no matter his triumph over asymmetry anywhere else. Akemi chewed her third bite almost as thoroughly as she should have and swallowed, holding up the strategically sliced dessert so that her friend could see the squared shape she'd trimmed it into.
Glancing back at the sound and heightened scent of the proffered sweet, Kid was immediately struck by a twinge of anxiety. Powdered sugar and strawberry sauce had collected on and around Akemi's mouth, sticking to her lip gloss even on the unintended smear that had irked him previously. Now he could hardly suppress the urge to correct it, and he coughed, "You have sugar... everywhere."
Akemi laughed, "Sorry," and licked her lips, wiping at her mouth with her formerly clean white sleeve. She registered Kid's visible shudder and smiled before asking sheepishly, "Did I fix it?" He risked another glance, sighing at the sight of the broadened pink smudge flecked with sparkles and powdered sugar across her cheek. "Not quite..." He gave in to his intolerance and reached over, swiping his right thumb over her cheek in an attempt to wipe away the troublesome color. Both faces reddened as his touch brushed her lips, and he turned away, scrubbing his fingers against his pants to be rid of the color. "Fixed it," he muttered, wondering why he wasn't feeling purely triumphant over the righted gloss.
She'd been frozen in place from the moment Kid had touched her face, but Akemi broke from the shock of his close proximity with a shrill, childish squeak. She reeled back, cheeks burning at the notion that her crush had touched her lips even accidentally, and nearly tripped over her own feet on the way back. Kid darted forward. When he caught her, pulling her close to keep her from tripping, her lips brushed his cheek, and she felt the burning in her cheeks at the contact. His arms were wrapped a tad too tightly around her because he was trying to avoid looking at her face some more, and Akemi squirmed out of his grasp with a brick-red face. Both parties gave the same phony cough, trying to dispel the awkwardness that hung thick in the air between them.
"Thanks," Akemi finally chirped, resisting the instinct to reach up and cover her mouth with her fingers. It was then that she caught sight of something that would likely bother Kid more than her lip gloss being on her face. "Er, there's a little... pink- on your cheek." She wasn't pointing out his blush; sparkling gloss and a trace amount of powdered sugar had transferred from Akemi's lips to Kid's right cheek during the jump fall catch and jump debacle. She twiddled her thumbs, awaiting his response and hoping he wouldn't be annoyed. After all, the coral pink lip gloss had been a gift from Maka, who'd told her that it contained a charm that would give her luck in love. And Maka knew exactly who Akemi was hoping for luck with. So far it was only causing red faces, but the meister had her hopes up that at least her crush wouldn't end the day upset with her.
The severe blush that dominated Akemi's face wasn't reflected in Kid's expression. He appeared oddly calm under the circumstances, and the color which had risen in his cheeks was faded to a pastel pink that could be explained away as slight sunburn or a lighting trick. He knew there was no sink within range, and as there was no way of properly removing the smudged stain with his thumb this time, there was only one thing to do. Letting out his breath, he set his hands on the girl's shoulders. As Akemi questioned his actions with a look, Kid pulled her into a firm embrace, allowing her lips to make contact with his left cheek. He said nothing for a long moment, and words that went unspoken for the two remained simply that. No expectations, no sudden confession, only an expression of feeling that would lead eventually to everything that followed.
With the supposedly charmed lipgloss marring both his cheeks, Kid drew back from the hug, a hand lingering awkwardly on Akemi's shoulder. He understood why things were more difficult, more meaningful with her than the sisters who were practically his own siblings. There was a need to be liked, accepted, that he didn't have around other people. There was also a quiet jealousy that hummed in the distance whenever the girl spent extended hours with her weapon. Love was a trial, but he was confident it was one he would avail through as symmetrically as possible. Akemi's heart was racing, and it slowed down just long enough for her to make sense of things. She realized only after staring for a long moment what he'd done; Kid had made his face symmetrical by further marking it with the silly-looking pink. And he'd also hugged her... Twice, technically. It was hard not to say anything embarrassing or revealing at this point, and she made several in-mind starts that all said too much. Breaking her from her thoughts, her not entirely secret crush patted her head. "Fixed it," he expressed with a smile.