Authors Note:
Standard Disclaimer applies because as stated before SE is not mine. This story however is. Imagine what it would be like if our two intrepid heroes never met when they were kids. What if Soul remained a favored rich boy before learning of his weapon's lineage and what if Maka was raised by her Mom instead of growing up with her Dad? What if they met as teens—unaware of the fate that links them both? This is a story of what ifs and the many ideas that sometimes pop into a writers head when nothing else occupies it. Enjoy—kuroren
PROLOGUE:
Destiny:
The inevitable or necessary fate to which a particular person or thing is destined; one's lot.
A predetermined course of events considered as something beyond human power or control:
They say that the reason humans are fascinated with the concept of "soul mates" is because deep down inside them—on a visceral level they know there's more than a grain of truth in it. We were not meant to be alone. We were destined to meet someone whom fate provided for each and every one of us.
Legend has it that when the Gods finally made up its mind to create a race in their image they gathered all the primal power in the universe and gave rise to the first genuine spark of life. This singular spark was fashioned from all that the universe could offer and when the gods saw that they made something truly unique, they paused and wondered.
This being they created from the very heart of the universe is complete all on its own—sufficient unto itself and will neither need the gods nor acknowledge that anything within its sphere lacking. The gods feared that with such a creature their dream of propagating the worlds they have created would come to naught. This creation would never question its solitary state.
To prevent such a fate, they decided to take the being they created and split it in half. Each half would still be sufficient, each blessed with free will and each able to live as they see fit. But while each half could survive, they will never know completion until they fined their intended half. Only when they bind themselves to their fated one can they truly regain their greatness and fulfill their destiny.
And so it is with this legend that our story begins…
HIM
He was well aware that he was making the man uncomfortable. That was his intent. He was never one to do things that went against his personal code of conduct and though many would argue that his standards were for the most part stringent if not downright insane, he lives by its peculiar rules faithfully. He operates under a really short list of rules that has governed his life rather effectively:
Never lie unless it's worth the consequence.
Never start a fight unless you know you could win decisively.
Never trust people who starts their introduction with the line :"Trust Me."
Never reveal more than what the other party is asking and even then monosyllables work just as well.
And right now everything inside him is seriously considering the many possible ways he could turn the squirming creature in front of him into something that would closely resemble julienned vegetables. His erstwhile guest was a short dapper old gentleman with the rather uninspiring name of Bartholomew Battsrose. Dressed in fashions that would have undoubtedly served him well in the eighteen hundreds, he sat incongruously out of place in the lush ebony and crimson damask Art Deco miniature chaise lounge staring anywhere but him.
He saw the man glance towards his way and resisted the urge to further drive the man into panic with the sight of his bared teeth. His gaze would surely be enough to put the fear of Death in him. Beside him, standing as still as a shadow, and performing his task as a silent witness perfectly, was his constant companion and bodyguard. For a moment, he contemplated with the idea of letting his companion deal with the matter but changed his mind after considering that his bodyguard was even more temperamental and unpredictable than he was.
He resisted the urge to sigh. To do so would convey disappointment, and though in truth he was, it would not do to show it. Yawning is also out of the question for various reasons, not one of them courtesy. Left with no other means to display his growing irritation and boredom, he kept his hands firmly on his lap and simply pinned the man with his eyes.
"What seems to be the problem Mr. Batt? I was under the impression that there wasn't any foreseeable concerns regarding the job tasked you with."
The man raised his eyes at the contraction of his name but self-preservation was a stronger force and he kept his protestations to himself.
"And none, indeed Sir, at the time of our latest consultation."
"Is that so? Am I to understand that since then; there now exists a problem you are unable to deal with?"
Battsrose, he was certain, wanted to be anywhere except here and had he stood right then, the man would have sprang from the chair and fled the room sooner than he could say "boo". He watched the man take a swallow before he was able to speak again.
"Y-yes, sir."
"Care to enlighten me with the nature of this newly discovered difficulty?"
"Ah, yes indeed! You see, sir, with all due respect, the specifications you mentioned in your letter seemed a trifle—er, restrictive sir."
"I was told that your company was the very best out there Batt. Is the kid unable to fulfill such a simple request?"
"Sir! I do beg your pardon! You must not speak to my employer in such a way. Now, if you must really know, the burden lies not in just the restrictions you have specified but in the vague nature of your request as well as a number of other things."
"A number of other things? Tell me Batt, exactly what are these 'number of things' that's affecting my suitability for your illustrious company?"
"Sir, you insist on meeting potential partners in a manner that is less than conventional. You wish for full disclosure regarding the potential candidates' background and you wish for an independent consultant to be present during this meeting. And lastly, you wish to remain anonymous until the choice has been made, the results of which would only then be known to you." Batt's cheeks were a serious contender for a side of steamed ham after his impassioned speech. Chest heaving and clearly wishing he could get out of his boned corsets as soon as permissible, the man took out a clean handkerchief and wiped his brow. His companion watched the exchange with amusement so palpable he had to clear his throat twice to get the man to be quiet once more.
"I have my reasons Batt. Surely you could understand that." He raised a hand and ticked off a finger one at a time after each point was made, keeping his voice as even as possible, never letting his gaze break contact with that of the clearly overwhelmed agent. "One, the meetings are designed to be as comfortable as possible. I certainly have no wish to be tested like a common mule for auction. Two, only a fool would align themselves with someone they don't know, even if something like background is so mundane it could be falsified. Three, my consultant happens to be the best in the field, one you produced yourselves. And finally, my choice is absolute because there is no one else who would fail or triumph with this venture but me. Now do you understand?"
"Yes sir."
"Now, how soon can we set up things?"
"Ah—sir, that's the thing. My employer is uncertain because there seems to be only one candidate that would fill your requirements--!"
"Far as I can tell Batt, I only asked for one as I only needed one. Make sure that it's done as early as could be managed. That will be all Batt."
He gave the man a smile and turned his mind towards the other deals he wished to study before the day ends. He was surprised when the man did not leave his presence with the usual insulting haste. Instead the man remained steadfast in his seat and gave him a look that he would only later identify as chagrin.
"Is there another problem now Batt?"
"Sir, the problem lies in the fact that she doesn't want you."
HER
First day blues. Who ever invented the idea of torture certainly forgot that there was nothing more daunting than the idea of walking the silent and all-too familiar gauntlet of unknown halls and unfamiliar landscapes dotted by staring eyes and wagging tongues eager to flap and cast judgment at the slightest provocation.
Thanks a lot Mom. Throw me into the lion's den the next time I piss you off why don't you?
The stares intensified at the sight of her vacant expression and the visible lack of nerves in her countenance and stride. Nothing threw off locals than the sight of a stranger who moved with self-assurance and cool control prowling through their streets. Especially one clad the way she was in her signature colors of the red, white and black. She cast a quick glance at her heavy boots and resisted the urge to stomp her feet as she was wont to do as a little girl. Little good the stomping and all the tantrums did when her mom dragged her traipsing through parts unknown. She wished she could tell them that they got the part of assurance and coolness wrong but experience has taught her than keeping her distance and keeping silent always worked better.
If there was anything that she was thankful for it was that constantly moving with her mother around the world has lent her an air of insouciant grace. She never lacked for company unless she chooses to be and with her partner, she has never felt the sting of loneliness for very long. She hitched her backpack higher unto her shoulders and wished she kept her partner with her. She is certain that by the end of this day, she would need every weapon in her defense to keep herself from committing what would amount to little more than murder.