Happy. That's all that he ever wanted her to be. She was her bright, normal self whenever she was happy bout something, and he always thought that she was so beautiful when she smiled. Well, in truth, he always thought that she was a beauty, symmetrical or not. (She was quite symmetrical, though, so he figured that only served to make her more exquisite.) And her laugh, oh her lovely laugh...And the way her eyes lit up whenever she got to the end of a good book. Overall, she was just...

Wow.

A beauty. Whenever he was around her, it was almost as though he could forget all the asymmetrical ugly in the world, which was saying a lot for Kid. He honestly had always felt this way about her. Had always wanted to hold her, kiss her, be with her. But, there was something that stood in his way.

Soul.

She trusted him more than anyone else. And she always smiled around him, always hugged him, always wanted to be with him. It had been a week before that they had announced their newfound relationship together. When Kid heard this, it was almost as though his heart had been torn right out of his chest. As soon as he got the chance, he had locked himself in his bedroom, choosing to shut off all the lights and cry for nearly four hours straight.

He wanted to be in Maka's arms. He wanted to be kissed and held close to her. He wanted to be the one Maka loved. But, he knew that she would never want to be with garbage such as himself, and she deserved better, that better being Soul. Besides, Soul deserved someone to love. His body was wracked with sobs the more and more he thought about how perfect they were for each other, anyways. It was pointless to try and chase after her, knowing that she was already with her, no pun intended, soulmate.

Briefly allowing himself to sit up, he switched on his bedside lamp and slid off the side of the bed, going over to a small crack in his wall. Tracing his finger down the edge, he reached a small indentation, and dug his nails into the torn wall. He figured that no one would ever think to check in here, which would explain the items in this compartment.

The small box slid right out of the wall, and he brought it over to the small center rug in front of his bed, pulling the top off. I remember this. He pulled out a few small photos, smiling to himself. The top one was of a young girl with two short, sandy ponytails, standing with her arm linked around a boy with three white stripes cutting through his black hair, looking up from reading a book in his spot beneath a tree. Kid remembered when it was taken. He knew what the next photo would be. The girl was now bent down from a branch in the tree, reaching out two hands for the boy. "This was taken back when she..."

Tears dropped onto the next photo, which had been taken without their knowing. It had been taken from underneath them, which was a perfect view to see the both of them holding hands. The photo following was of the both of them back down on the ground, with Maka resting her head in the crook of his shoulder, his on top of her forehead. The next photo was the last taken that day, and it was simply of Kid's father about to give Spirit (who was in the process of trying to pull Kid away from his "Dear, precious Maka") a Shinigami-chop.

He still remembered the day that his father told him that this would be the last time he could play with Maka. "Now, Kiddo, I'm sorry, but I can't have you playing with her anymore. I'm sure that you'll find other friends, though!" Of course, he had asked why, why couldn't he be around Maka. Shinigami-sama, not wanting to tell the boy the hard truth that one day he'd have to reap the girl's soul, and tear apart the growing relationship that they were beginning to have, he had told him that it was simply because of grown-up reasons.

A small laugh escaped out of his lips in the mixture of pain and love. She couldn't remember, could she? There was never a chance, everyone told him. Oh well, at least I have photos, so that I won't forget, as well. He got up, sliding the box back into the wall and climbing back into bed.

He calmed down, checking his clock (3:46 AM). No, he thought, allowing himself to rest his still hiccuping body against the pillows. I shouldn't be this selfish. She's happy. She's with someone she likes, and she's happy.

And there's nothing more important to me than her being happy.