A/N: You enjoy the last chapter? Then, I hope this one will also be enjoyed. I want to dig a bit deeper into the mystery prospect of the story as well, so this will be interesting. Oh, and also featured in this chapter: Kidd! Remember, I still got this point of view thing going on, but, I want to play it off as a bit fancier, looking like the point of view changes you'd find in a book.

With no further ado (after the disclaimer, of course), here is what you've been waiting for (I hope).

DISCLAMER: I DO NOT own Soul Eater, and this story is only for recreational purposes and intents, and I ask no charge for this story. I will NOT claim the (canon) Soul Eater characters as my own, I will NOT claim any of it as my own.


S O U L

If you can come up with a crappier way of being woken up than what I had just experienced this morning, I'd love to hear it. It took a long time to get over with, too. First, it started out as hearing crying from Fire and Thunder- that was to be expected, they're just kids, after all. Then it moved to people yelling at me- not cool. How the heck was I supposed to fix that? And in the last phase, my head was pretty much slammed into the wall (which my head was already dangerously near) by the blue-haired psychopath. When I got it in me to actually wake up, I saw what the fuss was about. A string of curses and a literal leap out of bed later, I was transformed and in my partner's hand, as she began to run out the door, to the high-pitched wails of whatever was attacking outside, which was being sliced at by Sid and Naigus.

The thing that was attacking wasn't pretty, either. It was like a large, tall grey humanoid, yellowish spikes erupting from its head, making him resemble some sort of deformed Super Saiyan. His large, bulky arms reached all the way down to the dirt below, stretching out into a large hand, with three meaty fingers ending it. He was in a permanent slump, almost in a hunchback kind of way, which was probably what caused his knuckles to be dragging about the ground. His legs were so short and stubby, it was laughable. Here was this towering monster (with a face that I would much rather look at vomit than stare at), and then he had itty bitty baby legs. Of course, the laugh I failed to keep in my throat got me a wierd look from my meister. It wasn't so funny once he rose his arms up to strike. Maka, who was obviously more aware of the situation than I was at the second, leaped up into the air, aiming a slash at him. The tip of my blade poked right into his milky white eye, making odd liquid spew out of it. Gross.

Maka landed in a not-so-graceful squat (accompanied by a small wince, due to her ankle, no doubt), and backed away as two blurs made their way to the monster- undoubtedly Kilik and Black*Star. Whatever confusion I had left cleared out- we disarmed the big guy just a little bit, so now Black*Star and Kilik are going to distract him. Slices and punches were thrown, each fist bash from this big grey Hulk-Wannabe accompanied by a loud, painful wail. Maka leaped up one more time, and with a powerful swing at the creature's neck, delivered what was easily the final blow. That was way easier than I expected, and since it was still dark out, I was thankful- I could catch some more sleep before our usual wake-up call. As my meister landed, the creature erupted into dark spirals that evaportated in the air, signaling its death. I seeped out of my weapon form, now standing back upon the ground to see something unsettling- the soul it dropped wasn't the normal evil-red-glowy ball of gel. It was purple. The color of a witch's soul. Maka's bewildered look matched mine.

"What the-"

And the word that followed wasn't something you'd expect from meek little Bookworm.


K I D D

It was days like these that always made me wonder how Father got by whilst (somewhat) keeping his sanity intact. Not only would things become dissheveled, but my whole schedule was in complete dis-array. I could no longer awaken at the normal time- 8 in the morning. I know, I said that since order is changing, I would, too, but small steps are key, right? Anywho, things were just about as chaotic as they could get. An explosion in the student lab had occured precisely at 9:05 this morning- and no teacher to govern these students, who somehow managed to blow the door off... With frogs. It was not until I arrived in that room that I was informed of Dr. Stein's absense- Marie, who was on maternity leave, is apparently, dare I say it, in labor. With no person around to chaperone the students, and still an hour left in the period, I had to stay with them. It was a group of Shibusen's younger students, ranging from eight years of age, to eleven. It was undoubtedly one of the worst experiences I've faced.

As soon as I sat down on that desk chair (which felt a bit wobbly, of course), and told the children to quiet down, things only got louder from there. I left the class with what was most likely a tangled mess of hair and a dissheveled excuse for clothing. One of the younger female students managed to get a hold of glitter glue. She, the despicable child she was, only got the silvery mess on half of my face. First, I'm bombarded with a sticky mess of glitter, and now, even my face is completely unbalanced! The scrutiny! After the bell had rung, and the next teacher was making his way into the room*, I am ashamed to admit I all but dashed into the washrooms to get this silvery glob off of my face. But, considering my outward appearance at the moment, the most important thing was fixing my outrageous look. Soon, I was able to return to the confines of the Death Room, which was already very familiar and calming to me- a place of peace. Until, then, I remembered something- I had a meeting with Death Scythe Spirit concerning the goals for students of Shibusen, now that our pact with the witches had now been formed. The mirror at the front of the room began to chime, and I hesitantly sauntered up to it.

An image of Spirit began to melt onto the mirror screen, and I mustered up the least exhausted look that I could manage at the moment. My standing "partnership" with Spirit was a bit shaky- I had never grown comfortable around the drunkard, but as a Death Scythe, I knew I had to trust him. And, he was my father's most trusted Death Weapon, so, as much as my impression of him leaned on negative, I did rely on his decisions quite often, seeing as my change to Shinigami position was quite premature. "You ready?" He asked, with the most droopy-eyed expression I've seen on him. I simply disregarded the state of energy he was at- I was exhausted as well. "Now, not only do the students have no prior goal, seeing as it isn't possible to become a Death Weapon anymore, but, I have no way to aquire new weapons as the generations come and go," I began, putting my hands behind my back. "Now, I suggest we-" And that was when I heard it. That unmistakable squeak, squeak, squeak of little plushy feet on the marble Death Room floor, and that gut-wrenchingly familiar tapping of a wooden cane on that very same marble ground. I knew exactly who was entering before his loud introduction had erupted in the room, and I failed to supress a groan.

"Salutations, young Shinigami, old Death Scythe," the deep voice echoed across the room, causing me to grimace. In other situations, my rude behavior would be uncalled for, and without excuse, but, this was no person I was talking to. This was...

"Excalibur..." his voice boomed again, "has arrived!" he said with a twirl of the cane (which incedently hit me near the posterior). Rather than yell, I decided to use a softer approach- I'd hear him out, and then shoo the thing away. "What is your reason for-"

"My arrival has brought a message!" he cut in obnoxiously. Out of what seemed liked nowhere, he pulled out a very traditional-looking scroll. The purple velvet binded the scroll closed said it all- It was a message, from the Witches. Rather than hand me the message, as I have expected, the little creature opened the scroll, and cleared his throat. "From the American branch of the Witches, main branch, 1st decree, signed by..." He bagan, but realizing that he was about to read off the entire main branch of the Witchs' political system, I cut in. "May you skip ahead?"

"Alright- Effective on December 2nd," he concluded, beginning to put the scroll away.

"Wait!" I put my hand out in front of me. "What was before that?"

"Ah, yes," he replied opening the scroll again. "From the American branch of the Witches, main branch, 1st decree, signed by..." I all but snatched the scroll out of his plushy little hands. Most of the paper was taken up by the signings of the main branch, but, the message said it all:

"A summon of Shinigami Kidd has been called to discuss terms of his inprisonment for breaking of the official pact between Shibusen and the Witches. Effective December 2nd, today. If Shinigami Kidd does not respond to the summon, subpeona protocol will be followed, and brute force will be applied."

"Oi, Kidd, what is it?" the image of Spirit asked. I almost failed to find my voice as I squeaked out a small phrase in the most unflattering manner. "I-I'm being... I'm being arrested!"


A/N: And that concludes our lovely chapter for today, thankyouverymuch~! Now, did I do well with Kidd's point of view? He's not a character I'm good with, so...

By the way, I might update a bit frequently, just to get this story off the ground. So, that's about it.

Puppy-sama, OUT!