Heyo! ^^ It's Blue again. I've had the idea of a Soul Eater Band AU stewing for a while, but I could never figure out a good plot. A couple days it came to me, so I spent about two hours righting down the plot on my phone before I just gave up and wrote it out. Please forgive my grammar ^^' It's never been my strong point. Some pointers on proper comma and semi-colon usage would be very much appreciated. :)
I hope you enjoy this! This is going to be the first in a (hopefully) serial Band AU.
Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater, Cort guitars, or Diary of Jane by Breaking Benjamin.
The sun was bright, and the air was hot and dry in late July. In a small town in Nevada, Maka Albarn, age 13, laid stretched out on her stomach on the old rickety table in her dad's garage; a small, plug-in fan blowing on her face. A heat wave had stuck right when the AC in the garage (and the house, too, of course) had busted, so Maka had jumped at the semi-cool surface of the table over roasting to death in her room reading books she had already mesmerized.
Her dad was at work, so Maka was left to her devices with her cat as she melted into a puddle of sweat. Her mom was frolicking in off in some faraway country, probably cooler in temperature, with her new husband, so Maka was left to smack at sweat bees and sip lukewarm water.
Before she could feel the full sting of loss of her mother just abandoning her with her 'baka of a papa', she heard the familiar sound of skateboard wheels turning into her driveway. She didn't even have to look up to know who it was. The girl with dull blonde hair could already picture the idiot stopping his skateboard outside the open garage bay doors wearing that stupid beanie over his bright blue hair (natural hair color her butt).
"Yo, Maka! Wanna start a band with me?"
He always asked this. Ever since summer had started Black*Star Barrett would roll over from two doors down, and ask her to make a band with his drum-beating, self-proclaimed god, annoying self. And every day she said the same thing.
"Go away, Black*Star."
"... I just got here; didn't your ma ever tell you not to be rude?" She pushed herself from the table to glare at him as he jumped onto the stained love seat her dad and Maka had moved into the garage the day after her mom left. The one she and Kami had always curled up on to watch Saturday morning cartoons while Spirit made murderous looking, always half burnt, smilely blueberry pancakes. A pit settled in her stomach as she glared in Black*Star's direction. He conveniently ignored her gaze from behind his closed eyes.
"My ma told me a lot of things. Doesn't mean they're right," Maka muttered as she settled back on her stomach; listening to the whisper of the fan and the way her breathing sounded robotic when it struck the fan. A tall, wrapped box next to his skateboard sparked her curiosity.
He cracked open an eye to regard her. "Annoying when you're broody, Albarn."
"It's annoying when you won't use proper English, so it seems we're at an impass, Barrett."
He ignored her jab at his grammar. He always ignored her jabs and cutting tone. He was the only one who hadn't whispered behind her back (or taunted her) about her mother's scandalous departure. He was the only one who didn't treat her any different at lunch, or actively avoid her on summer break. He was the only one who talked to her anymore. She probably should be nicer to him but she didn't trust the way he always stuck around. People were untrustworthy.
She had changed after her mother left. She wasn't the perfect girl to ever live, Papa wasn't bright and cheery all the time, the world wasn't butterflies and sunshine, and her mother didn't love her father. She was stubborn and free spirited, her father only pretended to be happy around her, there were clouds and cold, and she didn't love her mother either. Her sweet smile was replaced with a cold regard. Her eyes only sparked bright when she was angry, which was more now, instead of when she smiled. Her sweater vest was replaced with a black hoodie that she had been afraid to wear in public because of the way the old giddies would whisper at the skull on the front. She no longer cared if they did. Her cute brown flats were replaced with the combat boots her mother frowned at. She no longer cared if her mother frowned, because Papa and Black*Star thought they looked more her style, and she liked them. Only her hair kept it's pigtails and her skirt stayed red plaid.
Today, though, the hoodie and boots were shucked for a black camisole and flip-flops.
"You played recently?"
Maka's cold gaze softened when she saw looked at the old acoustic guitar in the corner. She had found it in the attic when she was seven; the object had puzzled her when she first saw it. All curves and wires with LZepp signed on the face, she had been fascinated the minute she saw it. Maka still remembered the warm feeling that had spread in her chest when she pulled on the 'biggest wire' (as she had called it at the time). A deep, guttal sound had filled the low attic and her ears. She flashed back to those hours of just touching the strings, the day Papa had found her and smiled warmly at her, the few weeks he'd shown her how to play it, and the night her mama had forbidden Spirit to teach Maka anymore. Maka smiled fondly at the instrument. Her mama hadn't stopped Maka from learning it on her own from books and with Black*Star's help.
Maka slid off the now too warm table and softly pad over to the guitar. She gingerly picked it up and guided the strap around her shoulders. She hadn't touched the strings since her mama left. But now, as she eased into a beanbag chair, she felt a bit of the stone around her heart chip away. Like the strings and wood of the guitar, the beanbag also showed signs of use. This was her favorite spot. All the bitterness in her heart and mind slipped away the moment she struck the A minor chord. A small smile crossed her face as she gracefully plucked out snippets of the many songs she had learned in the past five years.
The world seemed to slip away as she strummed out the chorus of The Diary of Jane and hummed along. The notes eased their way through her body. She didn't get jazz, she didn't like pop (it hurt her head), and she never was able to understand how to strum out the laid-back country and blue-grass songs her mama liked, but she somehow felt the way every chord quivered, beat, and solidified in rock and metal. Looking at her, many would think that she would prefer the lighter songs or something, but truth be told, she hated them. The world wasn't happy-go-lucky, or stars and sunshine. It was dark and cold, unforgiving. There were fragments, though, fragments of the dark that brought light to one's life. They helped her stand the darkness. Papa, imperfect as he was, had stayed and taken care of her, loved her. Black*Star, annoying, loud, self-proclaimed god, stayed her friend even when she gave him the cold shoulder. They were some fragments of the darkness that were her light.
She spoke softly, afraid of the way her voice shaked. Maka hadn't cried once. Not since Kami left, not when she had watched the sleet come down on the dead leaves and taxi cab her mother was riding away in, not when her father had ran through the sleet like a madman, not when the whispers started, not when she went grocery shopping for the first time and felt completely overwhelmed, not when her father came home slobbering drunk and passed out on the floor, and not even when they painted over the walls and packed away Mama's clothes in the spare bedroom with the rest of her things. Not once.
Salty tears silently dripped onto the old wood. "I'll join your stupid band."
He stayed still and said nothing in regard for her.
"Ok. Let's be awesome."
She hid her eyes behind her bangs as she continued to strum a different tune. Maka felt the bitterness in her slid slowly out through her tears. Her anger, frustration, everything was sucked out by this meager pile of strings and wood. After a few minutes, she wiped the tear streaks from her cheeks and stood to face Black*Star. "We will be inspiring. People will listen to our songs and learn about the world they never looked at, but they will get encouragement. Because-" Maka choked on another sob as she made a declaration of war against the darkness. "Because we will -"
"We'll be fantastic. People will be blinded by our band's light. We'll inspire people to try and be as big as us!"
She ignored the errors in his grammar as it slowly sunk in. They were going to do this. Somehow, they would find a way to brave their way to the top. More band members would be needed, but for now, they could brave it alone. A smile slowly crept across her face.
"Mm!"
Suddenly he grinned like a monkey and tossed the long box at her. "For you."
Maka glanced at the box, Black*Star, and then the box again in suspicion. It wasn't too heavy, or too light. "Open it already, bookworm. Been waiting to give that to you for months."
Maka dropped to the floor and criss-crossed her legs; settling the package on her lap as she peeled off the dark blue wrapping paper littered with Black*Star's insignia. As she pulled back the paper, plastic boxing reflected the sun's glare at her eyes making them shut in reflex. Turning, she settled the store-wrapped gift in the shade before she opened her eyes. When she opened them she gasped. In the box sat a curvy, black and white Cort G110. Maka sat frozen for a few minutes. It was the exact guitar she had been pining after for the past year. She'd always wanted to try getting an electric guitar; the acoustic guitar next to her could only do so much to grasp the sound of heavy Rock & Roll that Maka liked to play and listen to. She breathed out a whisper. "B-Black*Star..."
"Heh! Figured when you got outta your funk you'd want to play something again. Gift from your god! I must take care of my followers, after all."
She gingerly lifted the plastic lid of the box and set it aside. The polished electric guitar gleamed up at her like it was daring her to touch it. The curves all flowed together as they reached up toward the the neck of the guitar. She stared with wonder as her fingered caressed the body of the guitar. "Wha-how? What did you-...? How did you know I wanted one?"
Black*Star just gave her his stupid grin as a response.
"Epicness!"
"No!"
"Black*Star is God!"
"Black*STAR!"
"Perfect, we're in agreement. THIS BAND SHALL BE NAMED BLACK*STAR AFTER IT'S GOD OF A DRUMMER!"
"MAKA-CHOP!"
Black*Star fell under Maka's biology text book to the floor of their new high school's roof. Two months and they still couldn't come up with a name. Black*Star denied her idea of mythical themed names due to their lack of 'godness', as he put it, and she refused to write songs for a band with an idiotic name, so they were stuck. He'd suggested 'The Band' once and they both cried in frustration when they remembered that it was taken.
"This is hard." She mumbled in frustration. Her eyes scanned over the meager list of ideas she had scribbled on notebook paper before class, all had been crossed out long ago. The frustration was piling up. If they ever wanted to get any gigs they would need a name for this band, and more members too. Maka breath whooshed out, making her bangs fly out of her face for a brief second. Lunch break was going to be over soon, and she had barely touched her food. She wasn't feeling very hungry anyway; her stomach had been in knots all day. All the unfamiliar people, the strange halls stairwells, everything was making her jittery. The open air of the roof calmed her down, and seeing Black*Star had helped to. Then he opened his mouth.
"AUGHHH! How are we supposed to make an EPIC BAND if we can't even pick out a NAME!? How do people do this?"
"Some choose stupid names, and people don't take them seriously." Maka coolly regarded the sparsely populated roof as the few people stared at the two (mostly Black*Star). One girl was staring at them in intrigue, but Black*Star distracted Maka by flopping down and sitting down cross-legged as he glared at her.
She blinked. "What?"
"If you weren't so stubborn, we might have a name by now!"
She slit her eyes as she bit into her chicken salad sandwich. Maka admitted she could be ornery on occasion but this was her fault as equally as his. "Ok, you try thinking of a good, well-thought, respectable band name, Black*Star."
"Hmph! Gladly."
He picked up two pencils and began beating on the lunch containers to Unknown Soldier as his eyebrows creased in thought. Maka watched him with mild interest before going back to her chicken sandwich a few minutes later, chewing in time to the beat.
Black*Star didn't have the best track record with naming many things. When they were six he had named his dog Almighty, at eight he named her gold fish of five minutes 'Umpphry' before her cat had put it out of its misery, and for two straight years he called her cat 'Tilt' when it was already named Blair. She still remembered when he was ten and came up to her to tell her that he had changed his name to Black*Star from his birth name. 'It's not that I don't like my old GODLY name, it just needed more ME in it! HEHEHEHEHE!', was what he told her. Admittedly Black*Star seemed to fit him better than B-
"Excuse me?" Maka jolted out of her thoughts and choked on her sandwich. After glugging down her water bottle she gasped for air while Black*Star thumped on her back (hard), nearly falling face forward onto the pavement of the school roof top. She slapped away his hand as she righted herself, still breathing heavy, and looked at the timid girl holding out a napkin to her. The girl was beautiful, clearly a few years older than Maka (which was expected since Maka herself had skipped a grade back in middle school), she was buxom and curvy, and the way she moved spelled grace and serenity. Her eyes were a beautiful dark blue and she had the longest, silkiest, darkest black hair that Maka had ever seen. Maka noticed that Black*Star seemed utterly transfixed as he looked at the girl.
"Angel...," He whispered before snapping back to his arrogant self and grinned widely. "Greetings! How can your godliness help you?"
He blew it. Maka rolled her eyes. As she turned back to apologize to the girl, Maka saw her smile gently. Which was strange since most people stumbled over their annoyance when talking to Black*Star. "Hello. I'm sorry to eavesdrop, but I thought I heard you say something about a band?"
Her small, timid smile was incredibly sweet and kind. Maka nodded and she glanced enviously at the girl's chest. "Mm, we made a band together, but we can't seem to agree on anything for a name. I'm Maka, this is Black*Star. I play the guitar, and he plays the drums if you couldn't tell."
"I saw. You're very good, Black*Star."
The girl smiled as he grinned like a chimpanzee. Maka motioned for her to sit. "You can sit with us if you would like. I don't mind."
"Obviously you should join us! A god needs followers after all!"
The girl blushed lightly as she sat next to Maka, across from Black*Star. "Arigato, thank you, I'm Tsubaki."
"Ah! Yoroshiku onigaishimasu!"
Tsubaki blinked in shock at Maka's flawless Japanese before blushing. "Yoroshiku ne. I didn't know you knew Japanese, Maka-chan."
"Mm, my mama was Japanese; when it was just us, or we were discussing something we didn't want Papa to know, we would use it, so I'm quite fluent."
Black*Star glanced between the two as they delved into a conversation about something he didn't understand. He poked Maka and she glared at him. "What'd you guys say?"
"Right, the one full blood Japanese guy I know doesn't know Japanese." Maka smirked as Black*Star turned bright red.
"Nonsense! Of course I know what you just said! A man that will surpass GOD can understand some puny LANGUAGE!"
Tsubaki giggled as Maka rolled her eyes at Black*Star's antics and slapped him across the back of the head. The two broke into child-ish banter with each other before Maka brandished her biology textbook and hit him on the head with it. She watched with fascination as the two got along so easily even when they argued. Black*Star had his arrogant, commanding, child-ish attitude while Maka seemed to have a blunt, realistic, no-nonsense way about her, but beneath it Black*Star looked to be very driven while Maka seemed to have a calming air about her smile. Tsubaki blinked in surprise when a breeze blew through and saw Maka's hair fly behind her. For a split second, Tsubaki swore they looked like wings bending in the wind, getting ready to sprout from her back and fly away. She gasped softly as the wind died down.
"-ID I JUST SAY!?"
"A MERE MINION DOES NOT PASS A DECREE ON A GOD!"
Tsubaki suddenly had an epiphany right there. A name for a band. She gingerly reached out and touched Maka's shoulder as the pigtailed girl grabbed Black*Star's pointed hair and pulled on it. Maka snapped her head to look over her shoulder at Tsubaki. "Tsubaki-chan?"
"I, um, thought of a name for your band. If you don't mind, that is."
Maka released Black*Star's hair at the same time that he bolted upright, and the two leaned right up into Tsubaki's face, both taking one of her hands in their own. "Really?!"
Tsubaki blushed at the sudden invasion of her personal space, but it ... felt nice. In Japan, Tsubaki and her parents were always worrying over and looking after her brother that she never really felt that she should be taken care of. Tsubaki was a scentless flower. The only times she ever asked for anything was if it concerned an instrument. When the accident happened, she was sent to America to live with her relatives. A few weeks after she had come, the rumors began floating around town, and soon everyone was suspicious of the new girl in town. The gossiping, the looks, everything made her feel uncomfortable in people's presence. Combining that with her shyness had left Tsubaki longing for friends, but too afraid to speak up. The only reason she had spoken up to the two gazing at her eagerly was because she had an opportunity. They were making a band, meaning they would need members. Maybe, just maybe, they would still need someone like her? Someone to play the bass.
"Do you play!?"
"I-I play Bass."
Stars and sparkles seemed to appear in their eyes as they gazed at her in wonder. "Will you play with us? I play guitar, but we've been hoping to play with a bassist!"
Tsubaki was dumbstruck at these two. They had welcomed her into their duo just a moment ago and now asking her deepest wish. Tsubaki sat there in surprise as Maka and Black*Star folded their hands together in a pleaful expression. The way they were gazing at her touched something in her chest, and a warm feeling spread in her. A few unshed tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as she smiled brightly at them.
"Mm! I'll do my best."
Maka curled her hand into a fist and smiled in return. "Un, ganbate!"
"Hey, what was your idea?"
Tsubaki's eyebrows crinkled a bit as she blinked a few times trying to remember the name. She struck her fist into her hand when it came to her.
"Angel's Decree."
Well, I'd like to know what you think about this. You don't have to review if you don't want to, but just know that I won't see it for a while. Doesn't stop me from grinning like a gibbon when I see it though. :D
I got that phrase from Marsh of Sleep's story If Only Tonight We Could Sleep. Go check it out! It's amazing!
I just have to proofread the 2nd chapter, and then I'll upload it as soon as I can. (Currently working on chapter 3, so don't worry chaps ;3)
Until next time!