They were both bold and young. Fiercely independent at tender ages of ten and eleven with burning desires to overturn the older generation. Savage to the system and plotting anarchy since their sandbox days.
One day, they finally had their chance.
"It's our time now."
Sweet escape was all that was on their minds. Maka's family had officially driven her insane and BlackStar no longer wanted to trouble Mira and Sid's household. They were old enough to leave the nest, to start anew with nothing more than their luggage of toys and clothes.
Kids left home all the time to live amongst contributing members of society, especially in Death City– even if the kids who normally lived alone had the dormitories and were generally already teenagers. But no matter! Maka and BlackStar were ready. In a month's time, they would meet their new weapon partners and as promised, they would be the best tag team pairing in the entire academy.
With Mira co-signing on the apartment lease and furniture donated to them by Spirit's friends who found out about the move through the grapevine, they settled into their apartment on the highest floor with a balcony looking over a small park. It was more spacious than the typical apartment complex, but they figured it was to keep each other from clashing as often as they do. A shared bathroom? Keep it clean BlackStar. Shared kitchen? I mean I guess that's normal. Shared room? Nah homie, stay out of mine and I'll stay out of yours.
Except that changed quickly when the pranks began.
Since they were young, Maka and BlackStar have been each other's greatest ally and worst foe. Their respective parents yelled at them all the time about taking their jokes outside to where no one had to clean up after them. Broken windows and ripped up clothes were a constant struggle when they were five years old, but once they hit six, their pranks became much more elaborate and plotted out.
In elementary school, their entire student body got along with Maka and BlackStar well, especially to keep on their good side. Luckily, when they tag teamed with each other, the horrors were only fleeting and harmless– as if they knew how to hold themselves back for the public. Once one of them turned their sights onto each other though, it was chaos. Nothing was a safe zone and there were no casualties too heavy for their war.
More on that to come.
For now, at ten years old and beyond, they moved onto bigger and grander things like battling prowess and becoming the best in their field. They since dropped their childhood promise to fight together on missions but have focused their attention onto more important things.
Like watching each other's back. Like helping each other grow stronger to meet each other's respective goals. Like still meeting up with their weapons every Thursday to spar. Like wrapping each other's wounds after missions. Like sharing stories of their day and reminiscing about the likeliness of their childhood. Like racing to school and racing home. Like coming home to their oldest friend. Like living with their best friend. Like that.
Like that.