Author Notes
It's official. The months of March and April are the bane of this story's existence. An unexpected hiatus happened in Act 1 and now Act 2. Not going to lie, it's probably because my interest is elsewhere (it's cyclic for me), but don't worry, guys, I won't ever abandon this story.
For a more in-depth explanation, please read the "Announcement" portion in my profile. Placing it here would bloat up the chapter far more than it should. You're not here for that. Though, I will say the site should have like an IM or something so that, for people following an account, the IM will allow you to tell followers what's what without having to do so in author notes.
Enough of that, have an overdue chapter.
Disclaimer: Soul Eater is copyrighted to Atsushi Okubo and all other third parties (characters, series, and concepts). I and HopeDiamond101 of DeviantArt claim no ownership to it. We do, however, own the original characters and content presented in this story.
The Heroes Respond: Seek Out the Ant Queen
Month 6, Week 2, Day 4 (Thursday, June 9th)
Mifune swore to protect Angela forever and always. His lack of knowledge on the man, Noah, who schemed to have her soul was condemnable. He'd freely admit he was paranoid, but for good reason. If this Noah guy thought about it in the past, there's no telling what he would do in the present. Mifune wanted to prepare for the worst case scenario.
"But where to start?" He mused aloud, staring at his reflection in his katana. Then, soft knocks rapped on the dojo to his door. "Reveal yourself." The doors creaked open ever so slightly and in came Crona, head down and barely able to keep eye contact with him. "You're Crona, aren't you? How can I help you?"
"I-I wanted some advice on swordsmanship…"
Despite the mumbling, Mifurne heard Crona loud and clear. "Explain."
Crona spoke louder. "The basics. I want to get better at the basics."
Uncrossing his legs, Mifune stood. "What's wrong with your fundamentals? I've heard you're a pretty good fighter."
"Ha!" Ragnarok emerged from Crona's back and laid on top of Crona's tousled hair. "Get real, Samurai. Sure, Crona can put up a good fight, but it's only because of the Black Blood. Without that, Crona's still a twig. You should see how he moves. It's all jacked-up." He ended his words with a couple of cackles.
"Ragnarok!" Crona whined and pouted. "And here I thought you got nicer to me."
Ragnarok shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, hell, I'm just giving the samurai here an idea."
Perhaps teaching someone would either get his mind off the issue or give him an idea. Mifune paced around a little. "Fundamentals, huh?" Having never seen Crona in combat personally, he found himself at an impasse.
That's when the doors to the dojo unceremoniously flung open, followed by Hiro coming in carrying supplies for him. "Mr. Mifune, I'm back!"
The light bulb went off in Mifune's head. "Perfect." After accepting the items from Hiro and putting them away himself, Mifune said, "Hiro, stay a while. Crona here wants to work on his fundamentals, and you're trying to improve your craft. Let's help each other by sparring."
Ragnarok chortled condescendingly. "You mean Doormat here? I only seen you about three times and each time involved hauling junk for the fools around campus."
Hiro glared and pointed accusingly at the Demon Sword. "Hey! Don't call me a doormat!" He then placed fists on his hips and puffed out his chest, making himself look bigger. "I'm Hiro the Brave, and I'll be a great Meister in no time under Mr. Mifune's tutelage!"
Ragnarok faked a yawn. "You ain't impressing no one, Busboy."
Once the two were set, Mifune brightened the lights of his dojo. Crona wielded Ragnarok while Hiro held the same rapier Mifune gave him. Mifune hoped the regular weapon wouldn't break against the magical one—those things were expensive. The two fighters adopted fighting stances.
"Chest up, Hiro," Mifune ordered, "You too, Crona. You're slouching a little." Once the two made the adjustments, he raised his hand and brought it down. "Begin."
Neither made a move. Good, Mifune thought, that was the mark of a good fighter. Hiro's blue eyes darted all over Crona's figure. Then, out of nowhere, Crona lunged. Hiro's eyes went wide and he barely leapt back to avoid the coming black sword. Head flying as his eyes locked on the ceiling, Hiro stumbled. His left foot slid on the floor and he braced the heel of his shoe against it.
"Remember. Stance, Hiro," Mifune said, "And, Crona, your swings have power, but the rest of your body is all over the place."
Crona was a fast-learner, managing to keep up the assault while still following his instructions. All Hiro could do was defend. That was the difference in their skill and experience — experience Mifune knew Hiro couldn't beat unless he could maximize whatever advantages he had.
After almost making Hiro fall again, Mifune spotted Crona falling back into old habits. Evidently, Hiro did too. The sweeping kick that came from the blonde surprised him. Crona's eyes bugged out after smacking the floor back-first. Hiro held the end of rapier to Crona's face, smiling smugly and flipping some of his blond tresses. "Didn't expect that, did you?"
Crona blinked several times, silent, and then brought up the black sword in one, abrupt motion, blasting the rapier out of a shocked Hiro's hand.
Mifune refrained from smacking his forehead. "We need to fix Hiro's attitude as well." He stood up before somebody got hurt. "I've seen enough. Here's my assessment: Crona, your form needs work. We have to build up some muscle memory, and that'll make you a far more efficient fighter. Hiro, I expect you to double your efforts. You're getting there, but there's still things to work on."
Hiro inched away from Crona while facing his master. "Yes, sir. I won't give in!"
The black sword disappeared from Crona's grasp. "Muscle memory?"
Ragnarok emerged from Crona's back and took his usual spot. "It means we gotta whip your flaccid body into shape."
Mifune sighed while Hiro snickered at the Demon Weapon's poor choice of words. "Hiro, you go on home."
Hiro quickly retrieved the rapier and bowed before leaving. Meanwhile, Crona stood there patiently, waiting for him to say something else. That was when a thought occurred to Mifune. "Crona," he said, "I don't meant to bring up bad memories, but what can you tell me about Witch Souls?"
Even though he wasn't asked the question, Ragnarok spoke, "I mean what can be told? They got Magic and transformative stuff in 'em. That's how Arachne made Demon Weapons."
"So, they can be used to make whatever under the right conditions?" Mifune asked.
Ragnarok shrugged. "I guess so, but Medusa and her family are really smart."
"Is something wrong, sir?" Crona asked, "Does it to have to do with that little girl always with you?"
"Angela," Mifune stated, "Yes, it does. I swore to be her guardian, so I want to better protect her. Having an idea of why people would want a Witch Soul would help."
Crona looked down, gnawing on its knuckles, before a smile broke out. Crona looked up at him. "There's someone else you can ask, Mr. Mifune. Angela should know her."
Kim laid on the middle of her bed, legs draped over the edge and kicking idly. She reverently rubbed her fingers along the silken mattress, grumbling to herself. Summers were the worst. Jackie almost always went home to see her family, leaving Kim herself alone with no real home to go to.
Home.
Pressure built up in her Kim's chest, making her feel sick in the stomach. This was one of the many times she felt homesick. While she never regretted leaving and oftentimes hated the Witch Society for its laws, she still held fond memories.
...
A young Kim, wearing a simple dress and bloomers, skulked around her home's gardens. Her pigtails as well as her tanuki ears bopped with each, peppy skip. "Come out, come out, wherever you are~" Soon, she came across a bush and saw someone's butt poking out of it. She covered her mouth to suppress her giggles and quietly sneaked up on it. Once she was close, she smacked the butt. "Got you!"
Another girl jumped out and screamed. Her skin was the same brown color as the dahlias around her. Her black hair was decorated with beads and feathers, and she swore a black tube-top, a black and white skirt, and black sandals. She glared at Kim with her indigo eyes. "That hurt, Kimial!"
Kimial giggled. "I'm sorry, Tazmina, but I couldn't help it. Your butt was sticking out."
Tazmina pouted. "That doesn't mean ya have to hit it so hard!"
Kimial's cheeks puffed out. "Oh, stop whining, you big baby!"
"I'm not a big baby!"
"Yes, you are!"
"No, I'm not!"
"Yes, you are!"
"No, I'm not!"
The two girls glared at each other for a moment but then stopped, bursting into fits of titters. Kimial threw her arm around her and said, "I cannot be mad at you forever."
"Neither can I!" Tazmina replied with a big, bright smile. "Hey, let's go see my sista."
"Okay!" Kim's smile curved into something mischievous. By the way, your accent again."
A brief pause from Tazmina and then, "Leave ma accent alone!"
...
Kim giggled lightly. "Oh, Tazmina, you doofus." Her recollections ended when she heard low, repeated rumbling. She snatched up her phone from her bedside table and saw Jacqueline was calling. Perfect. She answered it and turned on the speakerphone. "Hey. How's my favorite girl doing?"
"Kim, I-I need some advice."
At Jacqueline's suspiciously hushed tone of voice, Kim got rid of every lighthearted jape she thought of. "About what? Talk to me."
And so she did. Jacqueline told Kim how her summer went so far—the family got together, reconnected, and hung out in various outings. Overall, they were pleased with her performance at the DWMA. Eventually, Jackie confided in Kim the main reason for going home for summer vacation. "I'm just scared of what they may think. You know my family is traditional in every sense of the word!"
Kim sat up straight, idly kicking her legs. "Jackie. Listen to me carefully now, this is important: Just. Talk. That's it."
Jacqueline huffed. "Easier said than done."
Kim mockingly imitated her huff. "Then just do it. Get it off your chest."
Jacqueline made a brief sound over the line and then hummed in thought. Silence followed, and Kim waited patiently until her best friend sorted things out. "Why must this be so complicated?" Jacqueline groused, "I have to tell my family I go both ways, but…" A series of taps—Kim recognized the noise as nails drumming on a wood table. "There's this guy I really like, so I wonder what's the point of telling them in the first place…"
Kim grinned wolfishly but suppressed the bubble of laughter building in her chest. "If this guy is who I think it is, he'd be saying the same thing I am. Just go for it."
"O-Okay."
"Oh, and Jackie?"
"Yeah?"
How Kim wished Jacqueline could see her smile. "I love you too. As a friend. You're the first person who accepted me when I came to the Human World. You're irreplaceable."
Jacqueline's voice broke, choking on a sob. "K-Kim…"
A rough knock sounded at her dorm room door. Perfect excuse to send Jackie on her way. "Now, go settle things with your folks. Call me later!" She hung on the phone, hopped out of bed, put on shorts and a bigger shirt to make herself presentable, and opened the door to reveal her surprise guest. "Mr. Mifune?"
"Hello, Ms. Diehl," Mifune greeted in an even tone, "Mind if we talk? Don't worry, I didn't sneak in. Ms. Misery knows I'm here."
"Um, okay." Kim stepped aside to let the samurai and began to close the door. "So, what's up, sir?"
"I'll be brief," Mifune said, making a gesture for her to stop, "Tell me all you can about Witch Souls."
Kim crossed her arms, sinking to a hip. "Does this have to do with Angela?"
Mifune suddenly stopped chewing on his straw, looking away. "Am I that transparent?"
"Kind of."
Mifune scratched the back of his head through his admittedly long hair. "Well, to clarify, are Witch Souls that much more unique compared to Human Souls? Other than Magic itself, what can make them so desirable to someone other than a Demon Weapon trying to be a Death Scythe?"
Kim didn't peg herself a student at all. She and Kilik had that much in common, so it took her a little time to gather the right thoughts and properly convey them to the samurai. "See, Mr. Mifune, your question is more about basic phasmology than stuff about Witch Souls. Not only do souls in general give our bodies life, but they're also a power generator. Of life-force, or soul, energy. That's why you got things like Soul Force, Soul Resonance, and other stuff based on pure soul energy. The more pure a soul is, the stronger its life-force energy. Like in children, including witchlings like Angela. And different kinds of souls have other properties you probably know about now."
Mifune's eyes drifted to the wall. "I see."
"Now can I ask a question?"
His attention immediately returned to her. "Yes."
"Where is this coming from?" Kim asked.
Mifune then explained, "According to my old boss, Marlon of the de Niro family, a man named Noah wanted me to capture Angela for him. Now, the two of us have been trying to figure out why someone would want a young Witch Soul. I think I'm putting the pieces together. For whatever reason, he wanted a young Witch Soul to empower something."
Kim nibbled on her lip, already picturing the myriad of ways that could go. "I hope it's not anything too bad. We don't need another threat."
She noticed Mifune's hands unconsciously curling around his katana. "That we don't."
Month 6, Week 3, Day 4 (Thursday, June 16th)
Noah walked with his eternal grin plastered on his face. He retrieved the Soul Cannon, Ponera harvested cocoon after cocoon, and the stage was set to eliminate the DWMA and control the world once and for all. It was time to usher things in the direction he wanted. His shoes crunched against the earth within the dirt tunnel, soon replaced by tile.
Upon the first click, the smiling Gopher appeared at his side. "Master Noah! There you are. How are you? Anything I can do right now?"
"Nothing," Noah replied, continuing his walk, "I am going to see our newest recruit."
Gopher fingered his chain for a moment before saying, "Oh. You mean the bell guy? Were you the one to give him shelter here?"
"No, that was all Ponera's doing." Noah dipped his head slightly, thinking about Killbell's rap-sheet so far. "He's been a wonderful help. He's going to outstrip Nals and Alone soon."
Gopher suddenly made an irritated grunt. "Have I been useful to you, Master Noah?"
Noah stopped walking and stared at the androgynous fellow dead in the eyes. "I intended to create a Demon Tool Soldier to unquestioningly serve my needs, to help me collect everything in the world. A witchling's soul, so impressionable, so easy to take, was best for the task." He looked away, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Alas, that gangster never fulfilled my order, so I was stuck with scraps. That's where you came from."
Gopher's face about lit up like a Christmas tree. "Master Noah, you do care about me!"
A condescending laugh echoed behind them. "On the contrary, it means you're a flawed specimen."
Noah briefly looked over his shoulder to see Ponera riding atop a queen ant monster. When she dismounted near them, it disappeared in magical light. Gopher grimaced. "Who asked you?"
Ponera narrowed her eyes at Gopher, walking up to Noah's opposite side. "Mind your tongue." Her whole features softened as she gazed up to Noah as they all walked in tune. "Off to see Killbell too, Sir Noah?"
"Indeed," he replied, "I have another task for him."
"Do you?" She cradled her plush more snugly, a look of forlorn casting over as she looked away. "Please don't run him ragged. He's had it bad, and I fear he'll attract the attention of the Grim Reaper."
"We're going to attract his attention regardless," Noah said matter-of-factly.
"Yes, indeed," Gopher piped in proudly, "Master Noah knows everything. He is our strategist after all. There's no need to question his intentions, Princess."
Ponera once again glared at the Demon Tool Soldier. "Do not take that tone with me, peasant. You'd best remember your place. Also, you needn't buzz around us."
Gopher returned the look. "Wherever Master Noah goes, I go. You'd best remember that."
The corner of the witch's mouth curled evilly. "Let's not forget who is in charge around here, thing."
Gopher released a gasp, almost missing a step. "H-How dare you! I'll—"
"Enough." Noah spotted the iron doors leading to Killbell's chambers. "We're here."
The noise of their collective footfalls soon made their way from the hallway and into a room as Noah pushed the door to the giant's chambers opened, letting a small portion of light stream in, as Ponera headed to the sleeping giant's bed. She placed her small, pale hands on one of his large shoulders before giving him a shake. "Killbell?" she said in a quiet, soothing voice, "Wake up. We have another assignment for you."
With a groan, Killbell stirred, sitting up, causing the bed beneath him to shake a bit. He his way off of the bed and onto his feet, standing before the three.
"Princess Parasite? Sir Noah?" The hunchback greeted, voice gravelly and broken from sleep. "Is it time?"
Noah smiled. "Indeed. We are to meet up with soldiers at an abandoned cottage and collect the cocoons. If follow you me, I'll give you the specifics."
Killbell nodded and began to follow him. "Right."
"Don't leave your bell behind." Ponera pointed to the large golden object resting in the corner of the room. "You'll need that in case of the Reaper's lapdogs find you."
"Yes, ma'am." Killbell nodded repeatedly, trudging over to his bell and hoisting it with one arm. "T-Trust me. I won't let them beat me.
Blackstar walked through the hall, heading to the Death Room with his hands behind his head and his gaits large. "Man, where is that jar? That thing helped during slow times like this.''
Tsubaki was by his side like always. "Did you leave it at home or here?''
''Dojo. Dang, probably shouldn't have done that." That's when Blackstar saw Kid up ahead. He was pretty attentive. "Yo, Kid!" He called out, running up to him as he turned around. "Kid, have you seen my jar?"
Kid cupped his chin with an unfocused look. "Jar?"
"Firstly, there's a navel on it," Tsubaki explained.
He shuddered, eyes going a bit wide. "What? A navel?"
Tsubaki nodded, thinking as she talked. "And it has a pattern of several old men intertwined."
All of a sudden, Kid's face turned paler than usual. "Old men... intertwined..."
"I think there was also an old man with a barcode pattern—" She stopped when she noticed how off the Shinigami looked. He even was even clutching his own stomach, groaning. "Kid, what's wrong?
He wobbled in his spot. "I'm feeling sick."
Tsubaki chucked sheepishly. "Sorry. I forgot about your… tendencies."
"I, uh, think I'll find it on my own," Blackstar said in a slow, uncertain tone.
Wanting to change the topic for Kids' sake, Tsubaki started walking again. "Let's hurry and see what Lord Death wanted!"
"Ah, yes." Kid was back to his normal, formal self. "I wonder what he wants, calling our team."
Blackstar grinned as the three happened upon the entrance. "Hope it's a good mission. We haven't been on one in some time."
"It might be about those ant guys now that I think about it." Kid held the door open for the two assassins. "Let's find out for sure."
Maka, Soul, and the Thompsons were already there along with Stein, Sid, and Lord Death. Once all members of Team Maka stood in attention, Lord Death spoke, "Thank you all for coming. As you know, quite a bit of our EAT students are gone for the summer, leaving the ones remaining to pick up the slack. However, something has come up that warrants the attention of this particular team. You three, and several others, have spotted people with ant masks stealing all manner of souls. After doing some research, we believe we've traced back to the source."
Sid pulled up a poster board that showed several pictures. "The closest match is Ponera Parasite, princess of the Paraponera Clan.''
"Clan?" Tsubaki piped in, "The Witch Society has them too?"
''Oh, but, of course," Lord Death answered, "The clan system started with Warlock Poseidon of the Lucrenian Clan."
Maka visibly tensed up at the clan name.
''For context, the Paraponera Clan was wiped out at the end of the Period of Destruction when most of the fighting ceased for conspiring with remnants of the Immortal Clan," Stein explained, cranking his bolt.
Soul rolled his eyes. "Sole survivor of a witch clan slaughter and we're to blame. Why does that sound familiar?"
"We're going to shut Ponera down all the same," Maka declared, "What's the plan, sir?"
"We're following a lead in France," Lord Death answered, muting aside to show the Paris, France skyline. "Mysterious disappearances happened there like in a couple of other places, and someone detected a strange soul. I'm dispatching you guys to help the efforts in France. Two locations of interest are Notre Dame and Palais Garnier."
"When do we leave?" Liz asked.
"Immediately," Sid stated, "We're being proactive about this. There's such a thing as too many enemies, and the DWMA wants to focus more on Novus Paths and Arachnophobia."
"Makes sense," Liz said, idly fiddling with strands of her long hair.
Blackstar rolled his neck until it popped. "So what are we waiting for? Let's go crack some skulls. I've been itching to put some bad guys in their place!"
Sid smiled. "An admirable stance to take, Blackstar. Glad to see you channeling energy like that."
Blackstar clicked his tongue, indignantly looking away. "Yeah, yeah, don't have to tell me that, zombie dude."
Patty pointed and laughed at him. "Hahaha! Blackstar, you're such a tsundere~"
"I don't even know what that means!" Blackstar roared back, holding up a fist, "You tryin' to call me stupid?! I'll fight you here!"
By the time Team Maka made it to France, it was the dead of night. Crickets chirped, the moon hung low, and the streetlights did little to mitigate the navy blue overpowering the streets. Kid, Liz, and Patty volunteered to check out the Palais Garnier, leaving Maka, Blackstar, Soul, and Tsubaki with Notre Dame. Maka and Soul stood in the middle of the street, the Scythe Meister with her eyes closed and fingertips together. She sighed and shook her head. "No good. I can't detect the strange soul or the wavelength described by the professor."
Soul looked up and down the grand building and proceeded to stretch his legs. "Well, only one thing left to do. Time to get walking."
"YAHOO!" Blackstar landed before them with a thud that made the ground quake. He posed dramatically, pointing at the sky. "The Great Blackstar has appeared on-stage! Maka, Soul, we'll leave this to you. Let's go, Tsubaki!" He sprinted down the lane, leaving a trail of dust.
Tsubaki faced Mata and soul to bow. "Sorry, you two. Good luck." She ran off in the same direction as her meister "Please wait up, Blackstar!"
Soul waited until she was out of earshot. ''All things considered, if our target is using something like Soul Protect, they might find it first.''
Maka sighed exasperatedly, heading to the stairs of Notre Dame. "Let's just get started."
Blackstar and Tsubaki surveyed the surrounding area and settled on the one unused building. This abandoned building remained with the others because it was made of concrete – floor, roof, and ceiling. Only one of four glass windows remained, wavy and yellowed by time. The two entered through the open door, the light filtering through making the inside as navy and grey as the streets outside.
Barely a couple of steps in, and the two heard the ceiling creak along with grumbling. Blackstar grinned and gestured up to Tsubaki, who nodded.
In a small room at the very top of the roof, a hunchback laughed almost deliriously to himself. He cradled a glowing cocoon like it was a newborn. "My precious treasure. Just wait, I will gather more souls and give them to you."
The wall burst open. When the dust settled, Blackstar locked eyes with his target, chain-scythes on deck. "Blackstar has arrived! Bet you didn't expect to see me, huh?"
The hunchback rose, guarding the cocoon. "Who are you? Why are you bothering Killbell?"
"Take a good guess, pal."
"I-I won't hand over the souls!" Killbell reached for the bell behind the dilapidated bed. "That thing is my treasure! Leave or I'll hurt you!" Blackstar simply laughed off the threat and beckoned Killbell with a gesture. The hunchback suddenly convulsed at the noise, releasing a mad roar as he charged. "STOP LAUGHING!"
Shocked at the big man's speed, Blackstar watched as Killbell brought his bell up, quickly tolling and rolling away before he struck the spot he had been standing. The floorboards undulated on impact like waves during a storm.
"Careful, Blackstar," Tsubaki said, "The floor's unstable."
Although he took Tsubaki's advice to heart, he couldn't help but quip at Killbell. "You missed, freak!"
That did little to slake Killbell's sudden rush of anger. "SHUT UP!" Kill Bell roared, memories of jeering townspeople filling his head as he swung his bell forward. He quickly rolled aside again. He began ranting in his gravelly voice. "They hurt me! I try to hide, but they find me and make me ring those stupid bells! They say they wanted to be friends, but then they just laugh at me and hurt me more!" He then raised his bell above his head, swinging it around as a strange yellow energy began coursing from the bell.
Blackstar balked at the hunchback's pained expression. "Y-Yo, you okay? Who's they?''
"You're just like them! You're no better! I want all of you dead and gone so I can live in peace!" Killbell's bell swings were wild and uncoordinated, allowing Blackstar every chance in the world to dodge. Yet, the sheer power of his swings splintered wood every time. Blackstar retaliated every time, but the Enchanted Sword barely scratched Killbell's hide.
"Blackstar, what are you doing?" Tsubaki questioned, "You're much faster and stronger than him! Take him out!"
''I'm trying! "Blackstar bellowed, holding up the sword to block the bell, "He's evil and the enemy. Lord Death wants him out, so I'm doing the right thing." That's when he remembered something from a prior mission. How a comrade claimed you couldn't judge someone one-dimensionally.
Like he did just now.
Blackstar lowered his guard. ''Right? "
"Look out!"
If Blackstar's reflexes weren't up to par, Killbell would have flattened him: That was when the ubiquitous creaking turned into incessant groaning. The room swayed back and forth. Blackstar and Killbell struggled to keep their balance. The wood split into a network of veins, spewing dust and shoots into air as both males fell through. "I got you!" Shadows reached out to form a net to catch Blackstar. Hearing Killbell's bellowing, Tsubaki did the same thing. "You can't escape now!"
Killbell quickly regained his bearings. ''So you think. She made sure I get to live!" Reaching into his pocket, Killbell tossed up some red powder that formed a magic circle around him. Even with Shadow Star enclosed around him, the powder teleported him right out of it.
"Oh, no... We lost him," Tsubaki said in a grim tone.
Blackstar gritted his teeth. Never had he been ashamed to feel sympathy. "And we lost the fight too.''
