"Soul! Wake up! You have an important meeting to attend today. Crona has already prepared breakfast for you. It is laid out, nice and hot," his mother called.
He groaned and sat up. "Yeah, I'm coming! Keep your panties on…"
"I heard that!"
Grumbling, he pulled off the covers and got out of bed. Still, from the window sill where I have always stayed, I watched Soul stretch his now broad shoulders. The young boy who had always held me close had become a man who just let me sit like an decoration to his room. Though he had become rough around the edges these past six years, I have grown to admire him. My only sadness lie in the fact that he came to me seldom.
After Soul changed into proper clothes, he yelled to his mother, "Why do I have to be at this 'important' meeting? Whatever you have to tell me, can't you tell me in my room?" But looking up to his doorway, he froze.
A lady with short, light brunette hair and hazel eyes stood there, smirking. "Well, well, Soul. A late bird in the morning catches no worm."
"What do you want, Medusa?" Soul asked, clenching his jaw.
I had only seen Medusa once at a formal party. Soul, if I remember, was twelve at the time, and he still carried me around. If what I remember is correct, Medusa met him for the first time, and at this meeting, she taunted him for carrying a "girly doll" wherever he went. Since then, their encounters haven't been pleasant, and their relationship seemed to get worse every time.
At the corner of Medusa's eye, I caught her gaze. Walking towards me, she patted my head roughly and laughed, "You still have this toy? Aren't you a man now?"
"Shut up! What do you want, I said!" Soul roared, snatching me away and keeping me close like he once did.
"Ah," Medusa said, wiping her hands on her dress. "It's quite dusty. You should know to take care of your toys if you're going to keep them."
"You haven't answered my damn question, woman!"
Then she grinned darkly. "That's no way to talk to your fiancé."
Feeling a drop of his arms, I feared that he was going to drop me. I looked at his face and saw a dropped jaw of shock.
"W-what?"
Medusa scoffed, "You are a slow one, Mr. Eater." And the sly lady sauntered off to exit, but at the doorway, she looked back and said, "That's all they wanted to discuss. You can go do whatever you want, like playing with your dolls."
Swelling with rage, Soul yelled, "Get! Out!"
"Toodle-loo!" she sang as she hightailed it.
When she was gone, Soul walked quickly over to his door and slammed it. He slid his back against the closed door, moaning. For some reason, a sadness came over me. I barely see Soul nowadays, what with him going to school, meeting with friends, and performing his familial duties. If he went through the marriage, maybe I wouldn't get to see him at all. My "heart" wrenched at the thought, and thinking about it made me feel as ill as a doll could even be.
Soul made it to his bed and flopped on it, and then lightly, a knock came at the door.
"Medusa, if that's you, leave now. If it's not Medusa, the door's unlocked," Soul said, muffled under his pillow.
The door opened and a young man's voice called out, "Soul, it's Kid."
Several years ago, at the same party that Soul met Medusa, Soul also met another person, one that he had a better relationship with. His name was Death the Kid, or rather Death the Second Whittaker. Mr. Whittaker, his father, was a tall, thin man with a gaunt face, black eyes that resembled two coals, and pale skin. Kid, as he was called, resembled his father in his height and thinness, but his skin had a healthier tone to it. Youth had his face more filled out, and his eyes resembled the shining, yellowed amber. However, the most conspicuous figure on his personage, were the few thick white stripes in his short cut black hair. According to Soul's conversations with him, as a young boy, Kid was playing with some chemicals used for cleaning, and coincidentally, when the chemicals were spilled upon his head, they created a few thick stripes in his hair. This drove Kid insane because he had a horrible aversion to asymmetry.
The more Soul shared words with Kid, the more he shared laughter, I felt as if I were growing farther and farther away from my owner. Though I could talk with my fellow toys, I could never talk to the one I felt I knew the most. And as he grew older, the larger the chasm between us grew. I long for those days that he always held me to his chest, but I know it cannot be.
Then even though I know this very well, why can I not accept it?