Part Two

The City of Death

The sharp man rode his steel steed, carrying two living lanterns and the cloaked shadow.

How extremely uncool, Soul thought to himself. Arrayed across the back of his motorcycle was the coffin, on which sat the twins and the black traveler. The bat, Sen, flew slightly above the rear wheel.

He thought about what he'd say to Lord Death when he arrived with a depressed wanderer, two little girls, and an anthropomorphic bat. I'm already on Death's bad side. This might get me banned from DWMA!

Soul's thoughts were interrupted by Kuro leaning forward to say, "Is that the city?"

The voice was right in his ear. He flinched, then turned and yelled "Don't…DO that!"

Nijuku and Sanju had spent the previous hour trying to do something to the black traveler. They'd said that they were trying to "give their color to make Kuro into Niji," but all they had done was put their hands on Kuro's sides and push a little.

It was a strange vision to see, going down a country path. Two little girls pushing on either side of a motionless, coffin-carrying child only a few years older than them, a navy-blue thing beating its wings above them, and leading them all was the familiar, embarrassed figure of Maka Albarn's loyal partner.

Soul was mortified. "I sure hope she isn't here…," he said softly.

"Whom?" Kuro said innocently.

"My partner. She's a stuck-up, stubborn, pedantic, patronizing know-it-all who can only let me have fun when she's not there."

"Remind you of anyone, Kuro?" Sen inquired mockingly.

Kuro sighed, closed her eyes, and recited:

"I'm sitting on the final resting place of your mortal vessel, Sen-sei, and you know how clumsy I get sometimes." Kuro rotated from the torso to face the bat. "Remember what happened with the Liar Baron?"

If it was possible for a bat to shudder, Sen would have done so at that moment.

"Good. Now shut up, Sen." Kuro turned, facing forward once again. They went on in silence for several minutes.

A while later, Soul said, "Kuro?"

The traveler in black straightened. "Yes?"

"What do you plan to do in Death City?"

A lengthy pause. "I'm looking for Spirit Albarn."

The moment the name passed the traveler's lips, Soul slammed the brakes down. The twins tumbled from the back, laughing with joy. Soul roughly rolled off the bike and gaped at the traveler.

"You want to see the Death Scythe! What in shini-shini-koroshi are you thinking?! He's more likely to kill you than let you do whatever you're planning!"

The traveler turned and stared straight into his eyes. Soul suddenly thought back to Where the Red Fern Grows, remembering a hound that had just caught the scent of blood. "My business is my business." A pause. "Drive."

Soul shuddered, but obeyed. He mumbled under his breath. "…liked Maka better…"

Suddenly, there was a bump. Sen got clipped in his wing. An unearthly shriek (transcribed as KGHAAAAAIII, in case you wondered) burst from Kuro's coffin. Sen dropped like a stone. Before he touched the ground, though, Kuro's hand pistoned out and snatched him out of the air.

Kuro muttered, "Stop the bike."

"What?" Soul asked.

"STOP THE BIKE OR I'LL CARVE YOUR EYES OUT WITH YOUR OWN ARM!"

Soul stopped the bike.

Kuro hastily shrugged the coffin off and started muttering. No one but Kuro heard what was being said, and that was good. Sen wasn't badly hurt, and that was good, too. Kuro's voice increased its volume.

"Look away. You don't need to see this yet." Without waiting to see that order carried out, Kuro lifted the lid of the coffin. A faint shadow pulsed at Kuro's neck, almost like a chain or ring. Soul was still looking, but he saw... nothing. Only shadows were in that box, it seemed. Before he looked away, Soul saw one of the shadows shift, moving wings like a bat.

Kuro searched for this Sen's spot among the shadows. Then, quickly - but gently! Very, very gently - Kuro inserted Sen's limp body in with the rest of him. Kuro quickly closed the coffin's lid, readjusting the straps that held up the coffin. As the traveler stood up, it noticed a pair of eyes.

Rose red coloring, dark pupils. A lot of fury stuck in those eyes, and terrible focus was a familiar guest, and madness. There was a lot of determination, too, and - what? Empathy? Pity, maybe? What is it? Kuro laughed. I thought I was the master of reading people. The Liar Baron even lied to himself, but even his emotions had some pattern. Hell, he could feel-

Kuro was thunderstruck. Love. Yes, that was it. There was love in those eyes. Someone loves him, too.

All this analysis happened in the time it took for Soul to open his mouth and say, "What's going on?"

Kuro said nothing, and walked back to the bike. The external silence betrayed Kuro's thoughts. Kuro's mind was racing through a barrage of memories. The perfume seller's lifelong story ended after Kuro had left, but Kuro knew what had happened even so. The Liar Baron's tale had ended somewhat more tragically, but his end was the most wonderful he could have asked for. All of those had such beauty, but almost all of Kuro's stories (the witch, the professor... Mo...) held some facet of horror in its talons. Half of Kuro's life was chopped into tiny fragments of other lives. Mo, Kuro thought regretfully. Your innocence cost me... cost us all so much.

Out of nowhere, one memory loomed over all the rest. Kuro's eyes lost the tired glaze they'd held for so long, dripping into a shimmer of misery. Kuro's eyes moistened, and began bleeding tears. It was that moment that she cracked the most miserable smile Soul had ever seen and said:

"...dad..."

They rode in silence. Kuro gazed at the walls as they passed. The concrete walls were covered in pastel spray-paint and bits of chalk. Some remaining pieces of graffiti proclaimed "DEATH SCYTHE? MORE LIKE METH SCYTHE" and "BLACK*STAR WUZ HERE!" Some of the buildings they passed were hospitals, and they were invariably next to a forge or two. There's something important in there, Kuro noted, but I'm not sure what.

After a few minutes, Soul called out:

"Well, here we are. The Death Weapon Meister Academy."

The Academy, as Soul called it, was a huge building. The sun was setting over a symmetrical castle of towers and spires, all inset with skulls. The towers all tapered into spikes, and giant candles burned in the eye sockets, dripping wax around the edges.

They all got off. Kuro gazed at it, and mused, "I expected something solemn, not grand."

"Kuro-chan is disappointed?" asked Nijuku.

"We'll show you mice!" exclaimed Sanju.

And with that, the two shining girls shrank to the size of rodents, and shed the hair from their tails.

Kuro replied, "No, Nijuku. I'm just surprised. And stop being mice, will you?" Kuro turned around, saw Soul gaping at the two gerbil-sized children, and laughed. "I see you've noticed Nijuku and Sanju for the first time. I think they're another kind of weapon, but…." Kuro shrugged.

A voice from above shouted, "New weapons, huh? Good. We need reinforcements right now." Kuro looked up to find the voice. It came from a thin, bloom-faced girl, about sixteen years old. She looked like her worst enemy had just used her favorite book to burn down her house on Friday the 13th. In other words, very serious.

Kuro analyzed her. Her bright green eyes were quick, and missed little. Her flaxen hair was cropped short, except for a pair of braids, hanging down over her ears. She held herself formally and stood with an air of dignity. She followed her form through by wearing the traditional uniform for scythemasters: a striped tie tucked into a trailing black suit coat, a plaid skirt covering her legs down to the knees. She rounded out the uniform with a pair of black-and-white hiking boots and a yellow vest that sheathed a white suit shirt. All in all, the outfit was... intriguing...

She had on the same white gloves as Soul, like a staff-fighter's braces. The thought came quickly: This girl knows the sharp one. Kuro's eyes narrowed.

The girl raised one hand and gestured to Kuro and the twins. "So, Soul, who are your new friends?"