Someday
by. Poisoned Scarlett
New Years.
"Use her soul."
Soul swivels his chair to face the reaper, his hands resting on his stomach. Kid looks no different than usual, always dressed in that pitch black suit of his that makes him appear more ghostly than intimidating. He thinks that he won't ever manage the level of threat his father possesses but he keeps these thoughts to himself as he says, "Are you telling me to rip out an innocent girls soul for my own selfish needs?" He snorts and turns back to the fireplace, watching it with a leisure that makes Kid want to cull his soul. "That's a first. Are you really that miserable in this house? I thought you adjusted already."
"Do you honestly think you can hold me, a God of Death, captive any longer than you already have?" Kid hisses.
Soul thinks about it and grins. "Yes."
Kid's eyes darken. "I serve no one but my own. The only reason I am serving you is because of my...problem," he grimaces and Soul hums in reply, knowing only too well of his debilitating OCD and the incident that followed, which plunged the reaper into this life of servitude in the first place. "However, I have fulfilled what I promised. I no longer owe you anything."
"Maybe so but I owe you something."
"Use her soul. Give it to me and your debt shall be absolved," Kid tells him, simply. "You owe me 100 corrupt human souls in exchange for command of the hounds. They're yours now," Kid says this with an edge, a tone that tells Soul he is not happy with it. He shouldn't be, too, he had literally made the hell hounds his familiars, Soul thinks. They are his to command and to train now. It's irritating trying to train and gather them in one place but he had only been made master of them for a few years. He understands this will take time. After all, he needs them: the hounds are the reason the town had a low Kishin rate. They aided him in various other things as well; Soul would not trade the hounds for anything else, even if the dogs got on his last nerves sometimes. And even if there were dogs like the the one that attacked Maka, those rebellious mutts who refuse to bow down to his authority. "However, I can still take them back. You only have sixty eight souls. You owe me thirty two souls."
"It's still more than half," he defends.
"Why do you refuse to use her soul?" Kid asks, straight-forwardly.
"There's no need to be hasty."
"It has never stopped you before."
"Maybe I want to think things through this time. Rushing in head-first has never worked out for me and you're the one who always tells me to think before I act," Soul coolly deflects.
"Convenient how you decide to take my advice now of all times," Kid sarcastically says and uncrosses his arms from his chest. He leans off the wall and heads for the door. "Don't be a fool. You won't be able to resonate with her."
Soul's tone his dark, with an edge that warns him not to overstep his boundaries. "...What makes you so sure?"
"Grigori souls are on a completely different standard than human souls. They're angelic souls and very rare. As such, there are many things we've yet to discover about them. But one thing we do know is their resonance rate and, I can assure you now, only a handful of people around the world can connect to her soul properly. There are not many who can adjust their wavelength to such a powerful soul and yours," Kid wrinkles his nose in disdain. "You would be lucky to even be able to catch a glimpse of her soul. It's too pure for the likes of you. You'll twist it."
"Taking an angels soul is a heavier sin than slaying a regular human soul," Soul begins. "Y'know, being down here, surrounded by all these humans, it's done you no good. You know the reason your father allows me to lord over you," his lips stretch back in a snarl reminiscent of a hounds and red eyes spark fiercely, "You haven't learned humility. You haven't even bothered to understand the things you will protect one day. You think you can be Grim with the type of mentality you have now? You're out of your fucking mind."
"Don't speak about things you don't understand!"
"I understand them far better than you do!"
"Just because you've had some interaction with them here and there does not mean you understand them," Kid patronizes.
"The soul is something that can only be understood by Gods," Soul spits. "I'm not God but there is a reason your father favors me over the others. Keep telling yourself that he doesn't but why else do you think he hasn't fetched you yet? Do you think the most powerful being on this entire planet can't retrieve his own son from a warlock?"
Kid draws himself up straight, shouting: "Father has his reasons for not retrieving me but surely his reasons are not that infantile! I understand how the world works and I know that balance is the only way to achieve the nirvana that Father wishes for!"
"Balance?" Soul laughs, disbelief in his eyes. "You think that you can change this world that easily? Do you really believe it's that simple, to fix the world?"
Kid replies simply and confidently, "Yes, with the right strategy."
Soul scoffs in incredulity. "You're the stupidest God of Death I've ever met. At this rate, you'll never be like your father!" He directs burning red eyes to him. "So stop pretending you are because we both know that if he handed his title over to you at this instant, you'd ruin it beyond repair. You can't control what you don't understand!" He points to the door, red eyes burning like coals. "You're next in line to be Grim. Life isn't something you can just give and take. It doesn't work that way. So don't you ever tell me to take her soul again or I'll make sure you can't speak to save you future embarrassment. Now get out."
Kid obeys but not out of his own will, heading down the hall toward his own room with resentment brewing in his chest. Soul shifts his eyes to the mantle place as the door closes by itself, a resounding slam that does nothing to bring his own rage down to a simmer. The sheer thought of doing such a horrendous thing to Maka makes him balk; there is absolutely no way he would ever be able to do that, to draw his scythe upon her and cull her soul. Although a grigori soul would fulfill his debt, he would rather collect one thousand corrupt souls than take the easy way out.
Soul reaches over for a bottle of wine, popping the top and pouring himself a glass. He knows that with the mood he has set up tonight, there will be no celebration downstairs. He is willing to bet that Tsubaki will cautiously rap her knuckles on his door right before the hour of the New Year; a weak attempt to reconcile he and Kid again. But there will always be hostile tension between them, always until Kid can understand the reason he is under his rule and not his fathers.
But at the rate he is going, actually proposing he cull the soul of an innocent girl just to set himself free from his rule, Soul is willing to bet it will take a lot longer than what Lord Death had said it would. With this in mind, Soul heaves a sigh and takes a drink of his wine, reclining in his chair and wondering just what the angel-girl was up to on the night before the new year.
