Brief Commentary:
Updates, updates, la la la...heehee. :P Well, anyway, moving on. We're skipping ahead a bit here, but not too much. I didn't feel like sending Daniel off of anything, so I decided I'd skip to the more important part, you know? It's not like that many people like Daniel anyway (sob). You're probably more interested in something more crucialish to the plot, so here you go. After another chapter or so, things will really start to get rolling. ;o Will you review? Or will you?

Kono yubi tomare watashi no yubi ni
Sono yubi goto tsuretette ageru
Higurashi ga naku akazu no mori e
Ato modori wa mou dekinai


The Evans Household
No Easy Business

Fall had arrived, shortly after Soul had discovered his scythe form, and Daniel had to go back to school. This was to Soul's unvoiced relief, but soon he found that he had other things to be concerned about besides his half-friend, half-antagonist. His father's attitude had changed, sobered after he learned of Soul's new ability (although it had been nothing less than he had expected), and warned him that he would be put through tough training to make sure he could change quickly, easily, and efficiently.
This also included beginning to build up his physical strength so that he might expand his soul wavelength and preform better in battle, but that was to come later, when his baby fat had disappeared and his muscles were truly ready for development.

It was one September afternoon when his father beckoned him outside into their massive backyard, informing his son that today they would just focus on partially transforming, a much easier task than transforming one's whole body. Laura had followed in order to watch and give hints - she was a weapon as well, after all, and skilled in some areas where her husband was not, as amazing as his scythe form was rumored to be. She stood to observe from their massive patio.

Before they started, Bradley made Soul stretch himself out and do a few exercises - the three year-old's face was already shining with a thin layer of sweat by the time they had finished, having been forced to do a series of push ups, curl ups, and sprints around the massive yard. His body was rather new to this, and it took him more than a few seconds to catch his breath.

When he had, his father was impatient to begin.

"Firstly, I want you to focus solely on your left arm. Feel the pulse in it, find each individual nerve, and allow your mind to wander up and down it; think of nothing but your arm."

"Um..." Soul scrunched up his face, and stared at the limb in question, feeling an anxious confusion more than his left arm. "...okay..."

"Focus, Soul Eater. You have to focus."

"Right," he nodded vigorously, and tried to stare as hard as he could. He felt some kind of fuzzy sensation running through it, and wondered if, perhaps, that was how it felt to "allow your mind to wander up and down it." Soul couldn't know for certain, but he assumed that's what it was (he hadn't yet learned the concept of an arm 'falling asleep,' but this was a different sensation altogether).

"Okay, now try to find that switch I told you about. It's in the back of your mind - once you've got it, don't flick the switch all the way through - try only half."

Soul screwed his eyes shut, trying to imagine some kind of light switch-like object in the back of his skull. The switch's options, instead of 'On' and 'Off,' would read 'Regular' and 'Weapon,' and it would be yellow, his favorite color. Still feeling the tingling in his arm, he imagined himself flicking the switch half-way down, so that it was in between 'Regular' and 'Weapon.' The fuzzy sensation in his arm changed into a thrumming vibration, as if he were pressing his foot heavily onto the sustaining pedal of an invisible piano. His mother's small gasp of surprise caused his eyes to snap open, and he briefly saw in place of his left arm the blade of a scythe, before it seemed to flash back into an arm again.

"Very good, Soul Eater, very good," his father allowed, a small smirk of satisfaction on Bradley's face. "For some one of your age, this is already excellent progress. This time, keep your concentration and try holding your arm as a blade for a full minute."

Soul glanced briefly to his mother, who nodded for him to do so.

"Okay," he agreed, and closed his eyes again, pulling the image of the yellow light switch back into his mind again. It was harder to imagine himself flicking the switch again, after all, he was excited. He had just been praised by the both of his parents, told that his accomplishment had been impressive, and now they wanted to see him do more. He felt his heart positively throbbing with pride, and it took him a minute or two to try and focus again - if he kept them waiting too long, Bradley and Laura might get upset.

His imaginary hand darted towards the switch again, before carefully setting it half-way for the second time. The thrumming in his arm grew stronger. Soul slowly opened his eyes, staring in amazement as he found that his arm was no longer an arm but a scythe. Awkwardly, he attempted to move it, but found he couldn't. Bradley inhaled and exhaled loudly, and bared his teeth in a grin.

"Hold it like that, Soul Eater, only forty-five more seconds. Eventually we want to be able to hold it like this for about fifteen, twenty minutes. But that will come later."

Soul vigorously nodded his head, in response grinning his shark-like smile from ear to ear. He was sure any child anywhere else couldn't ever feel half as happy and content as he did now; receiving praise from his parents, for him, was on par with winning several million dollars.

Fifteen seconds passed, and the transformation of his arm began to take its toll on the excited three year-old. Soon he felt his legs shaking with effort, and sweat kept building up on his forehead; so much that he continuously had to wipe it away. His breaths came shorter and more frequent, and it became harder for him to stand up straight. Bradley didn't appear to notice, so Soul tried to bear it. Perhaps this sudden exhaustion was quite normal, and he would just have to get used to it.

But simply getting used to it proved difficult. It felt as though his scythe-arm was slowly sucking at his energy, drawing at something deep within him . To Soul, it felt like it was killing him internally. He really wanted to stop, quit, and go sleep for days and days. But he couldn't; his parents wanted him to do this.

"Twenty seconds left, Soul Eater. Keep it up," his father nodded, and even he was looking a bit excited by now. Soul thought he caught a glimpse of his mother smiling; and the smile seemed pleasant, genuine. He couldn't be sure, because he was forced to look back to his arm again, to try and concentrate for less than twenty more seconds...

But how was he supposed to concentrate when he felt like he was slowly going to die?

He scrunched his eyes closed and resisted the temptation to hunch forward, already knowing that it would do him little good and that he had a high probability of getting scolded for it. Perhaps not by Bradley, but by Laura, who had always chided him whenever he exhibited incorrect posture.

"If little wolves are going to learn their proper manners, they have to learn them early so that they will always remember," she had explained in a low voice, her voice just for him. "Does that sound right to you?"

Soul had always nodded and agreed that it did.

"Ten more seconds, Soul Eater," he was dimly aware of his father announcing this - Bradley's voice seemed very faint, as if he were far away instead of three meters apart from him.

Only ten more...see, it's like counting with fingers - ten, nine, eight... he tried to distract himself from the thought that he might be dead by the time ten seconds were up. Or so he thought; the worst that might happen to him would be a collapse directly onto the ground, face-plant and all.

Five, four, three, two...

"Alright, excellent work. You might be extremely tired right now, but in order for the exhaustion to go away, you need to find the switch again in order to turn your arm back into an arm."

Soul gave his father a shaky nod, before he struggled to imagine the light switch for the third time. It took him almost twenty seconds in order to do so, and by then he felt as though he were on the verge of fainting. He pulled the image of his hand out again, and had it flick the switch fully onto 'Regular.' With a strange swoosh noise that he hadn't noticed earlier, his arm became an arm once more. And Soul fell to his knees, feeling just about ready to die.

"Ah, see, this is the problem with training him at this age," Laura said, joining them in the grass. "We've no souls to resupply his energy with..."

"Well, that can be solved," said Bradley. "Perhaps if I sent a request to Shinigami-sama?"

"...I suppose," she agreed, if not a bit slowly. "But Soul Eater is still exhausted. Why did you have him take a full minute? Even you started out with thirty seconds."

He smirked.

"I have confidence in my son; and he did not fail to meet my expectations."

"Whether he has your confidence or not, he's still drained. It'll take days to feed him enough food so that it can actually nourish his soul back to full strength."

Soul heard little of this conversation over the sound of his blood roaring through his head; he was almost certain that his face was flushed a brilliant red, and that he must be positively dripping with sweat. It was the most uncomfortable sensation, and he wished he could simply go to sleep.

"He can eat as much as he wants," Bradley shrugged, "Of course, a soul is always best after maintaining weapon form for a long period of time...best for the soul, anyway. On terms of strength...I expect that Soul Eater will easily begin to build it up."

"Perhaps not easily," his wife argued. "You forget that this child is at a mere three years old; you and I began this kind of training when we were but five."

"It is to his misfortune that he discovered his weapon form at such an early age. I would like to know who exposed him to it," he narrowed his eyes. "but it's for his own personal safety that I am putting him through this."

Laura sighed and muttered something to herself, before turning her attention back to Soul, who was currently trying to keep himself from falling any further on the ground. He had remained on his knees, but he had been forced to brace his arms against the grass in order to keep himself up. Soul's gaze flickered up to meet her eyes, and he sagged with relief at the proud, satisfied expression on her face as she offered him her hands, smooth and lithe.

"Well done, Soul Eater," she said. "Well done. Work hard, and you will become a magnificent Death Scythe."

"What is a...Death Scythe?" Soul breathed, eyes widening in awe at how amazing those two simple words, "Death" and "Scythe" sounded together.

"Perhaps while you're restoring your soul's energy - that is why you're so tired right now - your father can explain a few things to you," Laura glanced to her husband, who nodded.

"...okay."


Sorry, this came later than expected. - -;; My bad, my bad. I probably won't be able to update for a while, since we have...sncnhnononl right around the corner. :( Sucks, does it not?