A/N: First thing's first: follow me on tumblr! lamiadarkholm . tumblr . com (without the spacing) I'll be happy to take requests for drabbles and one-shots, but please send them to me there, I check it more often than my account here.

Secondly, I hope you guys enjoy this-seeing as how Just A Mistake was uploaded on the 5th of July 2011 and finished on the same day the next year, I've decided that every year on this day I'd upload a one-shot about Soul and Emilee and life without Kid, advancing one year at a time. This should be fun! I really hope you guys enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the original story; thank you for all the reviews, favourites and follows-I just wanted to give you guys something more.

So enjoy, and please review! Thank you!

The star-scattered sky of the Nevada night hung over the peaceful streets of Death City as the witching hour descended upon it. There was no sign of the hustle and bustle of the day; the paved streets were now empty as the city began to power down. Establishments closed up shop for the day and street lights were illuminated to light the way through the vast maze of back alleys and boulevards. Citizens were closing their curtains and curling up beneath the blankets, though few houses still remained with golden windows as their occupants defied sleep.

One of such was the residence of Soul 'Eater' Evans: 25, death scythe, and single father.

With a yawn, he scratched his chin; his fingers were met with the beginnings of rough stubble. He rose slowly from the armchair he'd spent the better part of the evening occupying, and set aside the newspaper he'd read thoroughly. Twice. His stiff joints clicked back into place with a satisfying pop as he meandered to his bedroom, dragging his feet as he went.

The apartment was quiet; no sound could be heard save for the shuffle of socks on the wooden floorboards. With each room he passed he flicked off the lights, slowly plunging the dingy flat into darkness. Once in his bedroom he stripped to his boxers and cocooned himself within the comfort of the thick cotton blankets, pulling the warm bedclothes over his head. He was stressed, so stressed. Work was piling up at the DWMA, he was behind on rent, he had no money for gas...not to mention, the anniversary of his death was coming up soon.

Soul let out a sigh. It had been nine years since Kid had died in labour whilst giving birth to their daughter, Emilee. Every year since, he'd taken her on the annual trip out to the local cemetery to lay flowers on his grave, as well as small gifts on important dates such as his birthday, mother's day and Christmas. Emilee had never understood the importance of it, only that whenever they visited her father would get a far-away look on his face and become quiet and reclusive in the days afterwards. Soul knew she hated going, she didn't know Kid personally. How could she? He'd died within minutes of her being born. She didn't remember him; his loss wasn't a burden on her shoulders.

If only Kid had survived...would we still be together? Playing happy families?

He doubted it. They'd been sixteen. Puppy love doesn't last forever. Besides, they'd only hooked up because of some stupid party, and were never properly together in the first place. But who knows? There was no point in dwelling over it now. Kid was long gone, he was never coming back. Over the years, Soul's view of relationships had turned bitterly cynical. Sure, he'd been with a few people-guys and girls-but after feeling the grief that had come from losing someone he'd cared so deeply about he began to question if it was all worth it again just in case something happened to the person he was with now.

With heavy lids he closed his eyes, allowing sleep to pull him under.

"Daddy, it's too hot. Please can we stay home?"

The albino ignored the question. Though the thermometer read well over 100°C, it was tradition to lay flowers on Kid's grave on this day, come rain or shine.

Or, in this case, come the day that Hell would seem cool in comparison to Death City.

"I'm not going, daddy. You can't make me!"
"You're going, whether you like it or not. Put your shoes on already, and we can go."

The girl-who looked so very much like her mother-stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. "Why'd I gotta go? I don't even know the guy!"

Gritting his teeth, Soul tried to calm his slowly-increasing annoyance. "Because," he replied, in the most patient voice he could muster, "daddy was very close to him. This means a lot to me."
"But I don't wanna go!"
"Well, too bad. You're coming with me, end of discussion."

The indignant child stomped her foot. "I hate you! I hate you and your stupid friend! His rock is stupid and you're stupid!"

That was enough for Soul. In a flash he saw red, and before he knew what he was doing he had struck the young girl's cheek. The world seemed to move in slow motion. It wasn't until he felt the tingle in his hand due to the effect of skin hitting hard on skin and saw the end result-a large, angry red mark rising on his child's face-that he realised what he had done.

"E-Emilee, I'm so, so sorry, I-"

She darted out of the room before he could finish.

Light was fading over the Death City vista, bathing it in a gold-pink glow. The sun was slowly falling, leaving long, thin shadows stretched out across the heat-roasted ground.

Soul had been sat beside Kid's gravestone for the past six hours alone, having had to leave Emilee at home. She had locked herself within her bedroom, and refused him entry no matter how much he begged and apologised. He didn't blame her. But why couldn't she have simply agreed to come with him? She knew today was difficult for him. Why did she have to be so selfish? It wasn't as if-

Oh.

Oh.

Soul put his head in his hands and leaned into the grave. "It's her birthday. Today's her birthday and I forgot. Again."

Now he got it. He'd put the negative over the positive every year, only focusing on the worst aspects of what had happened the day Kid died. Always remembering it as the anniversary of his death, never as the day his daughter had been brought into the world. No wonder she hated going. No wonder she hated Kid. She resented him. She resented him because Soul had made it so.

"Oh, God," he whispered, as he tucked himself further into the gravestone's rough surface. "I'm so sorry, Kiddo...I've messed up."

He could feel tears rolling down his cheek, but made no move to erase them. The cemetery was a place for mourning, and so mourn he shall. "I didn't mean to, I just...I didn't want to let her forget you. But by doing so, I've let her become the forgotten one...every single time."

What was he doing now? Kid couldn't hear him. He begged for forgiveness yet made no move to correct his own self-inflicted mistake. He rose slowly to his feet, brushing away the dust and dirt accumulated on his clothes. As he rubbed away the track of tears running down his cheeks he gave Kid's grave an optimistic smile.

"I'm gonna set things right, Kid. Sorry if you don't see me for a while."

With that he turned and left, not looking back, leaving behind only a bouquet of nine blood-red roses.

Emilee Evans awoke that night to the sound of crashes, clangs and the occasional swear coming from the kitchen. With a whimper she dug herself deeper into the sheets, fearing there was a burglar in the house. After a while, the noises died down. Slowly, cautiously, she pushed herself out of bed and padded down the hall. Poking her head around the kitchen door she nearly let out a shriek of surprise-her father was stood, covered in flour, attempting to ice a badly-burnt cake. Upon hearing the door creak open, he looked up and gave an awkward smile.

"H-hey, Em..."
"Daddy...? What are you doing?"
"Oh...w-well..." he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I realised I forgot your birthday, s-so...I wanted to make it up to you."

When she didn't reply, he looked away. "Plus, I wanted to say sorry for this morning. That was a really mean thing of me to do; I swear to you right now that it won't happen again."
"...you promise?"
"Cross my heart. I'm so, so sorry, honey..."

After a few seconds' silence, she shuffled over and extended her arms for a hug. Soul wasted no time in scooping her up and cuddling her close to him, giving the faded mark on her cheek a quick kiss. They stood like this for a few minutes more, before Soul put her back on the ground.

"Now...would you like a slice of daddy's Apology Cake?"

The girl eyed the burnt sponge wearily. "Um...maybe later. Could we have maybe some...uh...sandwiches?" hoping for something even her father couldn't mess up.

With a smile he pushed the ruined cake away. "Anything you want, kiddo."

A/N: I am really sorry for not updating recently; I've finished my final year at school along with all my exams and fanfiction has been the last thing on my mind. I've not given up on Beauty and the Beats, I just had no time to finish it because of studying. So hopefully (hopefully being the keyword) I'll get around to writing it sometime soon. Like I said at the top of the page please send any requests you might have to my tumblr account, as I check it more often than I do my fanfiction one.

Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it!