Disclaimer: All original Soul Eater characters, story, and affiliated media are copyright (c) 2004 by Atsushi Okubo. Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies in no way own the Soul Eater series.
Moments Story copyright (c) 2009 by Kashii Ai, Cassie Drey, and any associated names/companies
Soul
White.
Red.
Black.
And teeth like a shark.
He was the first boy she ever let herself trust. It did not matter whether he was like her borther, or beamce her lover. He was everything (because he was the half to something, like she would always say, that two could fight as one) she did not have. He was trhe love where where she lacked it, and the male fugure she needed where her father was not. For Maka Albarn, Soul Eater Evans was her home.
His heart beat for her exisitnace, and Soul could not exist without Maka. It was physics, Fate, God, it was just the way the Universe decreed them. A pair had been made in heaven, and they knew, they would always, always be the frest of the other's life. Like he was an extension of herself, Maka weidled Soul with grace, agility, power, asnd theur souls, their souls, would always beat like one heart. And when Maka breathed, Soul played. His feet, his hands, his white-black-red.
He is a piano.
He breathes like one, all godly chords and devastating notes, moves like ivory keys, to the pound, the rhythm, of them, even the way he fought, with his music. It was his soul that would sing all day, even if he was perfectly was all music, wielding it like a weapon, like it was his life, because it is the culmination of everything he exists for. Beauty, pain, and a piano that was always tuned.
Sure, he was dark, twisted. Mess-up.
But Soul Eater Evans is a melody.
Kid
Black.
White.
And stunning sunshine-amd-daisies yellow.
Such huge eyes he has, and gentle timbre, a soft demeanor. His father raised him right. Kid was all soft, slow breaths and patient sterness. Just like his mother, his father always said. The immortal was perfectly aware of the snapshot quality of the life around him. Here now, but gone soon, with nothing but the photograph of memory to keep close. Despite this, he'll always, always be brave enough to love the mortals round him, because they're his existence, his love. They change where he is static, and despite his mental condition, he needs the constant of change.
It's the clouds, the laughing sun, and a small girl with cornsilk and larger-than-life bright green eyes that he stays a;ive for. He's notg quite sure what would have happened, had he not been mugged in Brooklyn, or fought his two best friends in the netire world on his first day of school. Nor if had never met the delightful little pixie that was Maka Albarn. He loved her fleeting love of things, ironfast stubbornness, soft, pure, tiny soul.
He breathed it all in, the lives of these humans, and threw himself into it. No regrets, and no turning back to dusty eternity and infallible lonliness. Here, he would make the mistakes young people like him are meant to make, and here are the places where he'll make friends, and fall in love. His house will be fillwed with children, and he'll always, always have a girl who loves him, adores him, lives with him forever.
Death had never felt livelier.
Maka
A spark of green aurora.
A flash of dark gold silk.
Some soft, pale pink.
The angel, the grigori, the pure anchor to Shibusen. She was a skilled scythe meister, a loving friend, a happy girlfriend, and eventually, wife. No matter who she chose, Maka Albarn knew she would be blessed, because despite what her father was, she was fortunate to have the guys in her life that she did. She could keep them in line with a few well-placed words and a novel to the head if need be, but they were always better than her father.
Soul was so gentle with her. Maka's very own weapon-pianist.
Kid's shinigami heart beat for her human soul, and with him, immortality as not so daunting.
She was soft, pale pastel colors, and a loud, light-anmd-airy voice. She yelkled, she screamed, she whispered, she hugged. She was a girl who could love the most broken, ehat could be the worst enemy. She was the angel with a broken family, yet her potential to love, to forgive, really was endless and vast. She was the pure force in the lives of the broken, a true being of death, of life, of beauty. An angel.
She was pure air.
Moments
It always starts with one. A look, a simple hello. A handshake. It comes from a small place, and it always, always grows into something more.
A boy.
A girl.
And one simple little moment.
-fin-
Moments
July 16, 2009 – September 18, 2010