Soul gasped in horror.
He sat in the darkness of his room staring down at his arm.
It was red and black, and most importantly, a blade.
Soul shuddered in revulsion at his own body. He felt tears pour down his face at this new side of him.
Just another thing for his parents to hate him for. Just another thing that made him a monster.
Why couldn't he be normal?
He tried desperately to make the blade go away before anyone could see it. Luckily, it was night and only Wes would be coming in to check on him. Wes was coming to visit from college for Soul's thirteenth birthday, and he would be arriving tonight.
But he didn't want brother to see him this way, a demon with blood-red eyes, shark-like teeth and a large intimidating blade in place of his arm. He didn't want Wes to see him this way, because surely, if he did, he would look on at him with the same disgust and disapproval as his parents.
He didn't want to lose the only person who cared about him.
He slammed the side of his new limb against the hard wood of his bed's frame, and he glared at the odd design that reminded him of a monster's teeth dyed red with the blood of its victims. Soul ignored the dull pain where his arm should be and kept hitting the blade, begging his body to return to it's normal disgusting self.
He froze when he heard the knob of his door creak. His head snapped to the door and he pulled the covers from his bed, wrapping them around him and successfully hiding his limb.
The door creaked open slowly and the low voice of his brother seeped in. "Happy birthday little brother, guess who's-"
Wes cut himself off as the light in the hallway lit up his brother. Soul was standing about three feet away from the bed, the covers wrapped loosely around him. His hair was more disheveled as usual and his blood-red eyes were rimmed red, tears pouring down silently down his somber face.
To see his brother crying was one thing, but to see his brother crying with that emotionless expression, the one his parents caused, was entirely another.
And it made Wes see red. He rushed forward, kneeling down in front of his brother and grasping his left shoulder, the other hand steadying him on the floor. "Soul, are you alright? What's the matter?"
Soul shook his head, unable to trust his voice and unused to using it since his brother's departure.
Wes furrowed his white brows. "Speak to me, brother. What happened?"
Soul couldn't! He couldn't tell him! He didn't want to lose Wes!
But he wanted to. He wanted to tell him and be comforted by him. He wanted his brother to see it and just understand. Understand and accept him unlike his parents ever would.
But that was a dream. That was a dream that was too good to be true, and he knew that there was no way his brother would accept something so disgusting and terrifying.
A flash of light shone through the covers and Wes saw it. He moved to remove the cover from his right arm, Soul opening his mouth to stop him, but it was too late.
The cover slipped and exposed his right limb.
Which had turned back into his arm.
Soul let out a breath of relief as Wes scoured the blankets, looking for the source of the light. Wes frowned when he came up empty-handed. He turned back to his brother to ask him again what was wrong, but he'd stopped crying and fallen asleep on the floor.
Wes' frown did not leave his face. He was worried for his brother, and concerned with how his parents were probably treating him.
He picked up Soul gently and set him down in the bed. He brought up the covers and tucked him in, finally smiling at the peaceful look on his little brother's face.
Wes leaned down and planted a kiss on his brother's forehead before pulling away. He started to walk to the door when something caught his eye. He looked closer at the bed posts of Soul's bed and wondered where in the world could the deep gashes on wood could have come from.
Maka looked down at the post cards all sent from various places through out the world. Each one sent by her mother. She had five so far. One from the same year Kami left, showing Maka she'd crossed the country to go to Florida. Then one was sent when she was nine, showing her mother had gone to Teotihuacan in Mexico. Two more when she was ten and eleven and the most recent one coming from Canada.
She was upset that she couldn't respond to any of the post cards since her mother was always moving, but she was happy to know that Mama still thought of her. Maka reread the note her mother wrote: Three months to the transformation! ;P Good luck, sweetie.
Maka chuckled again at Mama's name for it. 'The transformation' sounded so ominous, and in reality it was more like 'the grand reveal'.
Maka grinned. She already knew what she was though.
Her soul revealed it's path earlier than most people's did.
Miss Maka Albarn was a meister. Just like her Mama.
She told her Papa, but he'd been so emotional about it she had to knock him out with one of his neglected books.
Since Kami left, Spirit stopped reading. He started to be less discreet as he 'did' women and got drunk on a regular basis. He wasn't cruel to Maka in the sense that he hit her or verbally abused her, but in the sense that Maka knew her Mama still loved this monster of a man. Kami loved him and he was here fucking women left to right.
The door opened and she heard female giggles accompanying Spirit's drunken chortles.
She stood up briskly and strode to her room, closing the door behind her and locking it. She pulled out her CD player and put on her headphones. She was listening to her mother's music to drown out the sexual noises coming from outside her room.
Luckily, her mother had been a fan of heavy metal, so the loud sound of Black Sabbath was able to do the job quite well. Maka didn't know much about music, so she would willingly listen to anything without any sexual implications. But this also meant she didn't have much of an opinion either. She liked what she liked and that's all she knew.
Maka let her eyes drift closed and she used a little trick she'd discovered herself. She took a deep breath and felt around for the souls in the house. She felt something disgusting in the bedroom across down the hall from hers.
It was warm in a sickly way and felt slimy. It was evil and vile and revolting. It made her shiver with disgust and pull her soul away sharply before he noticed.
She hated Spirit so much.
Soul sat down at the piano with a tired expression. He didn't like playing in public, he didn't like the judging gazes.
He hated most of all to be compared to his brother. To be told how much like him he was, and how they looked so much the same.
It was an insult to his brother.
His brother was perfect, he played the music in such a way that it brought tears of joy to the audience's eyes. When Soul would improvise, and he'd only done so once in front of his parents and his tutors, he'd been given several smacks on the hand by 'the ruler' and been told never to play anything so revolting again.
And Wes certainly did not look like monster.
But, alas, it was Wes' nineteenth birthday and he'd asked Cassandra and David if he could play with Soul, do a duet with him.
They'd agreed, because they would do anything for their son, their perfect son.
So here they were, Wes standing not far from Soul, his bow resting along the strings ready to begin. Soul placed his hands against the cool keys of the piano, his nerves relaxing as they began.
While he hated playing the piano in public, for anyone, he did enjoy it. It made him feel worthy, made him feel normal. It was an escape from reality, being able to tell a story with the notes he played, each one melting into the other as the song progressed.
He no longer cared if his parents loved him, but he knew that if he did not follow their rules, they could abandon him, and he'd have nowhere else to go.
No one would want something like him.
Soul clenched his jaw, sourly wondering what his parents would think if they knew he could change into a scythe.
Soul glanced over at his brother who looked exhausted, but kept up the charming smile and played every note with a vigor. He'd changed. He was less cozy with Soul and detached from him. He was still much kinder to Soul than anyone else, but with his busy schedule and Cassandra's need to have him performing all the time, there was no space in his days for Soul.
Soul was, for all sense and purposes, alone.
Suddenly someone stood up in the audience and distracted Soul, causing a pause in the music and making Wes stop entirely. The looked up together at the woman who'd began making her way to the stage. Soul looked on with a blank face to cover his confusion, and when he glanced at his mother, she looked positively livid.
"Excuse me, you're interrupting a concert, Miss." Wes said, aggravation poisoning his voice.
She kept her gaze on Soul who began to shift uncomfortably. She wore dark sunglasses, so he couldn't see her eyes, and that made it all worse.
She opened her mouth. "How are you here?"
Cassandra finally made it over to the woman. "I'm sorry, my son is mute. He cannot reply to you."
Wes clenched his fist around the neck of his violin at the lie. The blonde woman continued to stare at Soul. "No he isn't."
Soul's blood-red eyes widened considerably. Wes took a step back, confused by this woman's certainty. Cassandra shook her head with a tight smile. "Yes, he is."
"No, his soul is fluctuating every time you say that." She said harshly to Cassandra, who paled in realization.
"You're one of them." She breathed, in awe.
Wes caught on and smiled at the blonde. "Oh, what an honor."
She ignored the two of them and turned to Soul. "Why aren't you at the academy?"
At this point, people were whispering, casting sidelong glances at the youngest Evans. He felt uncomfortable. He wanted to tell them to stop.
Cassandra was shocked and angered at what the woman was saying. "Excuse me? What do you mean, my son is entirely human."
The woman let out a breath. "Yes, I know he is. You know what my occupation is, I am aware he is human. But he is also a weapon."
Soul felt dizzy. Who was this woman? How did she know he could speak? How did she know about his ability? Why wasn't she frightened and revolted?
Wes stared at his little brother, who purposely avoided everyone's gaze. Wes took a step in his direction. "Soul? Is this true?"
Soul looked up at everyone. He looked at his mother who just looked surprised. And there was something else...
Soul looked away, looking down at the keys of the piano for comfort.
"Soul,-" Wes started.
The blonde interrupted him. She walked up onto the stage and put a hand on his shoulder. He turned to her with a blank expression, his lips tightly pressed together. She smiled at him and removed her sunglasses to reveal two green eyes. "Hi, Soul. I'm Kami Albarn. I'm a meister from the Death Weapon Meister Academy. Do you know what that is?"
Soul shook his head, finding some comfort in her kind eyes.
Cassandra yelled. "NO! HE CAN'T BE!"
Soul's gaze snapped over to her to see tears pouring down her face and large amounts of guilt in her expression. He turned back to 'Kami' and opened his mouth slightly, still hiding his teeth. "I turn into a weapon."
The audience gasped and loud chatter erupted. Soul looked over at his mother who was being cradled by his father who also looked very guilty. Soul looked over at Wes who looked pleased and was smiling at him with what couldn't possibly be pride.
How could it?
Kami smiled at Soul. "Yes, I know. I am a meister, someone who can wield weapons. Now, there is a school in Nevada, America that specializes in teaching people just like you about their abilities."
Soul frowned. There were more people like him?
He was... normal, somewhere?
Soul looked down at his calloused hands and thought of his life at home.
It was terrible.
But if there was somewhere where he could belong, where people would accept him...
Soul looked at Wes. Wes nodded and took a step forward, leaning on the piano casually with a large grin. "Little brother, this is an amazing opportunity for you. Weapons and meisters are like superheroes in America. There aren't as many here, but when there is, they are basically, the coolest people around."
Kami nodded. "They're more often found in West America, closer to the home of the Death Weapon Meister Academy."
Soul looked between these two people, the only one who cared about him, and the one who was offering him a new life. Both seemed to support this academy, and both seemed to support his being a weapon.
Kami ran a hand through her hair and looked at him with sympathy. "I know this is kind of abrupt, but sensing the distress in your soul, then realizing you're a weapon was too much to ignore."
Wes' fist clenched at the word 'distress'. He smiled at his brother after taking a breath. "You two talk, I'll be back. I need to speak with Mother."
Soul wanted to stop him, but refrained from doing so. His brother obviously was uncomfortable with the whole weapon situation.
Kami felt the pain in his soul and changed the subject. "Is there somewhere we can speak alone?"
Soul nodded and slipped off of the piano bench. He put his hands into the pockets of his suit, and led her out of the room through the door behind the stage so they wouldn't have to make their way through the crowd that'd gathered around Cassandra and David.
He led her through the corridors until they reached his personal music room. He needed to be near a piano. He walked in, leaving the door open for her to follow and he sat at the piano bench. She stood awkwardly for a second before clearing her throat. "So, your name is Soul Evans?"
He nodded silently, not used to speaking to anyone but his brother.
"Alright, I guess that was a dumb question." She took a step towards him. "Do you mind if I see your weapon form?"
He stiffened then relaxed, knowing she was used to seeing things like him. He shifted himself all the way and felt himself rest on the floor. He looked up at her and she looked indifferent. She moved forward to touch him, but they both hissed in pain when she did. "Well, I can't wield you..."
He shifted back, grimacing. She gasped and stepped back. He closed his mouth instantly and knew that was the cause of her gasp. "What's wrong with your teeth?"
He frowned deeply. "I don't know."
She shook her head and stood firmly, but her voice still shook. "I'm sorry, I was just caught off guard."
He looked away from her, deciding he didn't like her very much and instead looked down at the piano. "What's the academy?"
"Well, like I said, it's where you learn about your abilities." She continued to explain the 'bad guys' and about Lord Death and didn't finish talking until about three hours later.
He looked on at her with a bored expression, but on the inside he was jumping up and down. He wanted this. He wanted to be viewed as a hero, he wanted to help the world.
He wanted this.
Instead of agreeing immediately, he told her to return tomorrow for his decision. She agreed to let him think it over and left without another word.
Soul sat at his piano. He needed to play. While he was alone, while he had time. He needed to figure things out.
He rest his hands on the keys and let his eyes drift closed. He took a breath and began to play, began to play the song of his soul.
It was troubled, for sure, but it was also strong and determined. There was fear in the notes he played and a lot of confusion, but it soon resolved itself and set into a dark, yet relaxed, tune.
When he finished playing he heard a quiet applause. He turned to see his brother walking towards him with a smile. "That was good."
Soul scoffed. "Right. That's why I was told never to play like that again."
Wes shrugged. "Mother and Father have bad taste in music."
Soul laughed quietly then asked in all seriousness. "What do I do?"
Wes touched his shoulder and their eyes met. There was no mistaking the warm acceptance and pride in his older brother's mahogany gaze. "Go."
Soul opened his mouth to protest but his brother quickly interrupted. "I know you want to go. You're a weapon, little brother. This is amazing."
Soul looked down at his hands. "I'm normal?"
Wes laughed quietly. "No."
Soul looked up in distress but his brother interrupted him again. "No, you're much cooler than normal ever could be."
A/N: Alright, I suppose I'm doing two updates a weekend. I'll try anyways. Shout out to my ONE REVIEWER Mermain123. In all seriousness, I really appreciate your review and I'm glad you liked the first chapter. I hope you like this one just as much!
Just something I have to say about how people tend to portray Wes: I hate when they make him an asshole! It's not right at all, especially since in reality Soul's jealous of him, and I have a hard time believing Soul would be jealous of a jack ass.
I hope this fic turns out well :D
That is all...
Sorry the chappy's short :') I'll make it longer next time for sure.
