Authors Note: SOUL EATER is not mine. Therefore, I am only borrowing them.

11/12/10-Editing. Trying to "tie up" loose ends and inconsistencies. Sorry for the long wait. I will work. Promise.

3/10/14 – Cleaning up. Found someone to re-read and fix the things I couldn't see the first time around. Familiarizing myself again before delving into newer chapters.


CHAPTER 2

Fools, Fights and Flawless Suits

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

- Robert Frost, "FIRE & ICE"


DEATH THE KID POV

Present Day

The oblivious whelp was aiming to get his ass kicked and have it handed to him on a silver platter. Or in this case-carved, neatly sliced pieces of his ass on a blood-soaked hearse would be a more likely scenario. Honestly, some people were just born inconsiderate. And to think, I wore white for this event. It would be a total nightmare getting the blood out…


Present, two hours prior…

Death the Kid was an extremely gifted young Death God. He was in many ways, his father's pride and joy. He had many redeeming qualities such as his unswerving loyalty to peace and his trust in his father's rule for both the school he had established and the city he has guarded over many years. He is brave, compassionate, just and powerful enough to follow in his father's path and continue on as the next Head Death God.

He was also known for his love for all things symmetrical and balanced. It was, in many ways, his sole passion besides being a Death God. Symmetry is as sacrosanct as the truth of life and death to him. The years after the war has afforded him even more skill and power. It didn't hurt that he was predicted to be one of the most powerful Death Gods to ever come along.

He has also grown up to be quite a handsome young man with his dark hair, firm lean build and his distinctive golden eyes. He also possessed impeccable manners, quaint, courtly speech and his faultless wardrobe. He was, in the words of his twin weapons, a thoroughly hunky guy. He had no outstanding fault, apart from his obvious obsessive-compulsive nature against symmetrical issues. He was not, however, known for his firm grasp of human nature.

Humans baffle him, with their topsy-turvy emotions, random thoughts and their peculiar ways. But he has learned to tolerate and even care for some of them. Some were even his allies. A chosen few were his close friends. But it was no secret that he couldn't understand a great many of them. Even humans who were gifted to be weapons most of the time were beyond his comprehension. He understood the baser natures of man and the darkness that resides within all of them. He also knew that while great evil finds welcome roots within human hearts, they are also capable of greater good and even noble sacrifice. But what he could never understand no matter how he tried was how to untangle the knotty skein that was romance and relationship. Even with the counsel of his father, his professors, his friends and the combined effort of his weapons, the rationale behind it continues to baffle and elude him.

Take for example the little tableau that was playing right in front of his eyes. No need for godlike-powers to predict how this particular scene would play out. And from the eager look in his weapons eyes, he should've known. He was, at least sentient enough to know that he was looking at a disaster waiting to happen.

It all began during one of Shibusen's annual soirees that were held in honor of the peace treaty that existed all throughout the seven planes after the Great War. Representatives from different satellite schools of Shibusen mingled with the students and faculty of the main school in a healthy convivial atmosphere of good cheer. It was always a well-attended affair and tonight was no exception. People from all the four corners of the globe came to celebrate the school's tenth year anniversary.

And it was with one of these honored guests that the trouble began. On hindsight, maybe he should've just ordered a simultaneous celebration throughout all the other schools and the kept the main school party for the select few.

The incident started off innocuously enough, hardly the kind of thing that a young Death God would assume to be potentially problematic. A young man dressed in a white linen suit stood in the center of an admiring crowd. It was obvious that the young ladies of the academy would find this particular guest admirable. The young gentleman was blonde with a dashing haircut styled just so and his impeccable white suit decorated by nothing more than a single vivid red rose. It also didn't hurt his cause that he had clear cut features with a ready smile to highlight his baby-blue eyes. It was obvious to one and all that by the end of the day he would have garnered the affection of not a few of their female ranks. Laughter echoed all around this particular guest but an indefinable aura of tension also began to perfume the air.

With years of first-hand experience facing dire, potentially life-threatening, earth-shaking cataclysmic situations, the young Death-God in-training knew to the depths of his soul that the day would not end well and that he had only the slimmest chance of rescuing the affair before it resembles a war zone.

The problem, Kid realized with an irate sigh later on, was so simple and matter of the fact that no one in all the seven realms could've predicted it. No one in the seven realms could deny the fact either that when it did occur—the results were inevitable. The long and short of it, the cause of the fiasco that would later be known as the Ten Year Blow Out, was the truth that the man chose the wrong female to try his charm on.

"That one would cause problems."

Liz murmured beside him. Kid cast an inquiring look at his beloved weapon and waited for a more thorough explanation. When none was forthcoming he gave his weapon a nudge and a silent entreaty for elaboration on her previous statement. The taller of his two weapons sighed before giving the man in question a small nod.

"That one is looking for a prey. Willingness notwithstanding."

"He doesn't seem all that dangerous and he is a student of another school of Shibusen. What danger could he pose? In a room full of trained fighters—who could possibly be considered a prey?"

Liz gave Kid an amused smile before flicking his nose affectionately. "You're not the brightest bulb out there when it comes to human dynamics Kid, but you can't be that slow."

"Enough of these veiled insults, my dear and get to the point. I don't have all day Liz."

The tall woman looked at the guest in question and Kid followed her gaze. Her voice when it came was harder, with the kind of edge that only came out when she would occasionally divulge insights gained from the dark days when she and her twin spent living on the streets. "He's looking for a girl to play with. Someone to manipulate and provide entertain for him. A pretty boy like that usually comes to events like these either doubled up. When they come solo, it's usually with the intent of scoring a few with the local girls."

"Doubled up?"

"You need a lesson in street lingo Kid. You'll get lost if we have to go under cover."

"Explain now, lecture later."

"Yes boss." Liz fixed the man a look from her blue eyes and saw the tell-tale body language shift from charming to predatory when the young man's eyes landed on the graceful figure of a young woman casually entertaining another guest.

"I meant someone that looks like that either comes with his own retinue of admirers, his own lady or someone he hired to pose as one. But that one's here alone. That can only mean he's hoping to score one by the end of the day."

"Would anyone do or does it have to be a specific someone?"

Liz pursed her lips and watched the man for a few more minutes, noting the easy charm and teasing conversation that flowed so effortlessly from his smiling lips.

"He is a rather ambitious young man who would not think twice about stooping low enough to seduce a woman to get what he wants. So, I'll take a gander and say he needs someone pretty specific for what he wants. Last I heard, he was studying furiously to become as close to a Death God in skill and power."

"Fools. I wonder if the world is not filled with them. As if being born either technician or weapon would make them any closer to being a Death God. Few could realize that dream and from those that could, I already know most of them."

"Well, sure, after all you pretty much grew up with them right? I mean what are the chances another Angel of Death can be produced in one lifetime? Or for that matter, how many Black Stars do you want running around the place?"

This time the smile that graced Liz's lips was answered by an equally amused one from her Meister. He took her arm and allowed her to guide him to a better position to assess the situation.

"Bite your tongue. Any more of Black Star's kind and I might go on retirement without ever taking up my father's post. The world doesn't deserve such terrifying fate. Now, what else can you tell me about the young whelp that's about to give me problems."

"Your guest is checking out the crowds, calculating each potential partner's suitability for whatever he's planning. Last I heard, I heard he's looking to get himself transferred to the main branch in hopes of getting closer to your father. To do that, he just might stoop to seducing someone." Liz's smile turned absolutely predatory and a mad light glinted in her eyes. "And oh, look", she cooed, "he's made his choice. He's been ogling that one girl in particular all night."

"Oh? And do we know which unlucky female it is? One of theirs? One of the others? Or one of ours?"

Liz smirked and titled her head to the side. Following the unobtrusive gesture with his eyes, he almost gave out a decidedly unmanly groan of despair. The young lady in question had long, soft ash-blonde hair that flowed in a silken wave down to her hips. Clad in a demure but tasteful black lace dress and high-heeled sandals, she looked every inch the delicate debutante. Her deep emerald eyes framed by long thick lashes shone with humor and good cheer as she chatted with those around her, oblivious to the leering stare the blond Adonis leveled her way.

Liz tried not to laugh when she caught a figure, also in his signature black and red ensemble, weaving his way carefully across the crowd. Whether his destination was the young woman or someone else could easily be noted. All you had to do was take one good look at his eyes—his glittering, enraged, crimson eyes.

Kid wanted very much to dump the contents of his wineglass on someone's head and bash it in for good measure. Of all the females waiting with bated breath for the blond Adonis to cast his eyes on them, he had to pick HER.

With an annoyed snort he cast a final despairing look at the white suit he wore for the event. His immaculate suit would definitely require a thorough cleaning. Idly he wondered if he should start penning an apology to the director of the young whelp's school for returning one of their prized pupils in a pinewood box.

After today, it was inevitable that the young man in question would later seek another institution—if not a whole other way of life. Death the Kid resisted the urge to sigh aloud. He mightily resisted the urge to weep and beat his hands against the nearest surface and howl his unjust treatment to the heavens too. He also debated whether he should approach the man to give him fair warning but something inside told him it would not be heeded.

The fool chose the Demon Scythes woman. Of all the women that night he just had to pick the woman that belonged to a deranged, pathetically possessive, insanely protective WEAPON.

He was a dead man walking. He just didn't know it yet.