Merry Christmas, peoples! And before we know it, it's chapter 11. I had writer's block for this one, so if it comes out random and weird, blame my lack of muse. *I disclaim* I don't own the song I reference, the show I reference, or the character I reference in the title, either. I've watched Naruto a little bit, but heard enough to know she doesn't do much. XD
Define "Normal", Chapter 11
More Useless Than Sakura Haruno
Often when you're focused on one thing and another thing immediately attracts your attention, your mind instantly leaves the first subject in an attempt to completely grasp the second. But there are cases in which the two matters blend and cause confusion to the perceiver, albeit for a few brief moments. But when you're facing a deadly assassin, those few moments of your mental paralysis can turn the tide of the encounter for the worse.
It was only a few seconds that Soul stood there, trying to make sense of all the jumbled noise produced by the insane amount of contemplations circling his mind. His thoughts of returning to Maka had been so strong and forceful upon his mind that when he was suddenly struck with the fact that he was being pursued by a chainsaw out to kill him, the teen's head had to back up to try and process all the facts and make sense of them. And that was when Giriko charged.
Soul flew back. The direct punch to his face from the man's large gloved fist sent him back a few feet as he fell to the ground.
"Well that was pathetic." Giriko scoffed. "Seriously, I'm not even using my chains yet. You were so distracted that you went down with a punch." He chuckled. "Man, you're lame."
Soul glared up at his assassin. He was pretty sure that he tasted blood in his mouth, but he wasn't going to give the crude man before him the satisfaction of knowing that. "I was distracted, all right?" He spoke to his opponent as if they were in a friendly spar in an attempt to by himself time, but his approach failed.
"Well, try not to be too distracted this time!" Giriko grinned before sending another fist flying at the silver-haired teen's face. Soul rolled out of the way, and the chainsaw pulled his hand back in the pain he received from pounding his fist directly into the flagstone below. "You'll pay for that, darn you!" He spat, chains appearing on his lower legs and whirring to life as his opponent stood.
"Yeah right." Soul rolled his eyes, pretending to stay cool and collected. His shaking betrayed his inner feelings, however, as fear and dread crept their way into his thoughts.
"He's capable of killing me." The teen's heart pounded as he dodged a spinning kick to his head.
"Dodging, scythe?" Giriko growled. "Fight back! Oh wait," The chainsaw let his anger subside for a moment as his voice adopted a mocking air and his expression became that of a cocky smirk. "You can't fight without your meister."
Soul's red gaze shot into his opponent's own amber eyes. "That's why I'm going back her, idiot!" He snapped, bringing his own leg around in an attempt to kick his opponent's side and knock the wind out of him. But Giriko simply grinned and caught Soul's leg in his large hand. His balance thrown off, the scythe struggled to tear free, but the chainsaw then gripped the teen's leg in both arms and threw him into a nearby building's wall.
Soul couldn't hide the cough he produced from the blood filling his mouth, which caused Giriko to grin even more. "Am I wearing you down, useless scythe?"
The white-haired teen grimaced in pain, but stood anyway as the chainsaw continued to taunt him.
"You really are useless, you know that? From what I hear, your meister can fight without you now." Giriko drew nearer. "So you're just another piece of metal. A rental to be passed around between owners that might have a use for you, when you could have so much potential. So here's what I'm thinking." He now stood directly in front of the scythe. "I could teach you to unlock your potential. You've got it; I could see that when we fought before. But you're not gonna find it when you're just being used by that blonde chick. So I could tell Medusa that I killed you, and you could join me." His expression was void of his typical smirk, and his voice had lost that tone of arrogance as he made his proposal.
Soul panted as blood continued to drip from his mouth. "So Medusa hired him to kill me." He realized. "What if I refuse?" He snapped, his voice still filled with malice.
"Then you'll die." Giriko replied with a shrug, as if he couldn't care less, but his voice became taunting again. "You'll die right here, as a useless weapon without even a meister."
Soul was silent for a few moments, but then glared at Giriko once again. "I feel alive when Maka's beside me." He growled in defiance. "I will not die. I'll wait here for her."
The chainsaw raised an eyebrow, then he slowly began to chuckle. Suddenly his chuckling burst into all-out laughter as he threw his head back and guffawed at the boy. "That'd be sweet, kid, if she cared about you anymore!" He exclaimed.
"Who says she doesn't?" It was Soul's turn to smirk as his lower arm became a scythe's blade. When he transformed his appendages individually and tried to fight using them, they were large and cumbersome, but he hoped he could simply scare Giriko off with his determination. He prayed such a thing was possible. "She will always be my only meister; no one else could match this cool wavelength." He charged forward, lifting his heavy arm to try and drive it through Giriko's chest, but the chainsaw easily dodged.
"Determination'll get ya nowhere, kid." Giriko shook his head. "Looks like I was wrong to think you had potential."
Soul whipped around to face his enemy, when suddenly he froze. He could hear the whirr of Giriko's saw foot as his mind once again struggled to process the scenario. But the process was very slow, and Soul was falling both to the ground and out of consciousness. As if the impact jolted the teen's mind, everything became clear as Giriko stood above him and wrapped one large hand around the scythe's neck.
"He pressed his saw foot into my chest."
"He tore up my chest."
"I think I'm dying."
"It's kinda a shame to kill you." The man tsked as he gripped Soul's neck, cutting off his oxygen and speeding up his descent into nothingness. "I thought you had better stuff in ya. Looks like I need to work on my judgement."
Soul, gasping for breath, stared into Giriko's eyes and viewed his own pitiful reflection. The chainsaw's edged foot was still upon his chest, and although the chains had stopped moving, blood continued to pour from the large wound and scar that that the man had opened with his deadly attack. Blood even flowed from the head injury he had received from his combined impacts with the wall and the ground.
Blood.
So much blood.
That was the last thing Soul saw. His last thought, however, was not fear or dying or acceptance of his fate, as is sometimes typical. Instead, Soul felt regret, and not because of what he hadn't done for how he had lived. Soul felt regret in how he hadn't died.
He thought, as he stared at the blood pooling around his broken form, that if he hadn't died to save Maka, his death was pointless. And that was his last thought.
Maka.
Giriko was standing, bent over and digging through the scythe's suitcase to try and find anything of value that he could sell to gain some cash. He straightened up for a moment as he glanced behind himself at his former target. The teen was laying there on his back, gashes covering his unmoving chest. The blood from his wounds was staining his leather jacket, and the injury on his head was soaking his formerly white hair in pools of red.
"What a stupid death." He muttered, grabbing some designer clothes and an iPod from the scythe's bag as he stole back to Medusa to boast his victory.
"What's going on?" A Kid asked, looking behind Tsubaki and into the apartment. "What's wrong with Maka?"
Tsubaki sighed. "You'd better come in." She murmured, holding the door open to allow the young Shinigamis in. The four Kids entered and sat upon the couch next to each other as the Dark Arm before them faced them with sad eyes.
"Maka spilt up her partnership with Soul, and then Soul left. He took a big suitcase; I don't think he's coming back." She shook with grief, her voice breaking.
The Kids shook their heads. "I predicted this much." The original sighed.
"But why would she do that?" Tsubaki said. "They've been partners for as long as I've been going to the Academy!"
"It's true that the reason behind their actions is not as perceptible." The first clone stated.
"However," Began the second, "You don't have to dig deep to find it."
"Dude, you're starting to sound like Uncle Iroh." Black*Star muttered, still sitting at the kitchen table wearing a bored expression.
"Who?" The second clone raised an eyebrow in confusion. "You have an Uncle?"
"No, stupid. Iroh, from Avatar: The Last… Forget it." The young ninja replied, turning away from the group. He too, was upset at Soul's absence, but instead of questioning it or thinking too much about it, he sulked. He told himself that his friend was just possibly trying to let off some steam, and resolved that if he wasn't back in a few days that he would chase after his friend and whip the scythe's butt himself for not coming back to his star earlier.
"Anyway," The third clone continued, "Their reason for their break-up is because Maka is tired of seeing Soul hurt. Remember that Soul was kidnapped by Medusa for trying to protect his meister. Neither one of them want the other to suffer because of them."
"So, drawing from that conclusion, another apparent fact would be," The original began, "That they both care for each other very much. So much that they'd put their life on the line for each other. However both are too prideful to admit their feelings or realize that they're shared."
Tsubaki's eyes widened, then she watched the ground. "I guess that's true…" She said quietly, but was interrupted by the crashing of pots followed by a loud shout of pain.
"OW!"
Tsubaki, both confused and concerned, ran into the kitchen. "Was that you, Crona?" She asked, looking around for the child.
"Yeah…" Crona said. His voice sounded muffled as he continued; "Maka won't come out of her room again, so I wanted to make her happy, so I wanted to make her spaghetti, which makes me happy, so I was looking for the pots and pans and found them in this cabinet down here, and I stuck my head in here, but I don't think it'll come out…"
Tsubaki glanced down and gasped, realizing she had been about to step on the young Gorgon. Or his lower half. Crona was leaning forward while sitting on his knees, but from just below his arms to his head, nothing could be seen of the boy that had managed to wedge himself in the small cabinet beneath the sink.
"Black*Star!" exclaimed Tsubaki. "Why didn't you stop him?"
Still sulking, Black*Star simply shrugged in reply. Shaking her head in exasperation, the Dark Arm knelt down next to Crona. "Crona, can you move backward and pull out?"
"No." Crona murmured. "I'm holding myself up with my arms, which are splayed out. My elbows are long and are stuck behind the upright dividers here, and they won't bend the right way to pull me out. And my head's pressed into the bottom of the sink."
"How are we going to get him out of there?" A clone asked.
"I'm sure I don't know." Sighed the original, standing.
"Where are you going?" Asked another clone as Kid began to walk towards the door. "I'm going home. It's obvious I can't do much here, I might as well be repairing my home."
"We'll come." Said two duplicates as they followed their original, but one stayed behind.
"I think I'll stay and help with Crona." He said.
"Fine with us." Said the other three.
"Just don't destroy yourself." Added the original before he turned to Tsubaki, Crona, and Black*Star. "See you. We're going to repair our home from Hurricane Patty, and then see if we can come back and help with Maka." He said, then closed the door behind them.
Maka emerged from her room a while later. She had managed to halt her sobs, but her eyes and nose were still red. But upon reaching the living room, she was met with one of the strangest sights of her life.
"Have we tried conditioner?"
"Yes."
"Butter?"
"We've nearly used up the butter."
"Not to sound rude, but, um, could you hurry up? My arms are getting numb from being in the same position for so long."
"We're working on it."
"Vegetable oil?"
"Let's try vegetable oil."
"He's starting to smell weird."
"What do you expect? We've used Maka's cherry-scented conditioner, butter and now we're using vegetable oil."
"Ew, it's slimy…"
"Deal with it."
"Black*Star, don't be rude!"
"ANYWAY, it's no surprise he's starting to smell like a buttered cherry covered in vegetable oil."
"I don't know how to deal with smelling like buttered cherry covered in vegetable oil…"
"What's going on?" Maka finally had the courage to ask as she observed the bickering of a Kid clone, Tsubaki, Black*Star, the stuck Crona, and Blair, who had evidently shown up at some point.
"Well," The aforementioned cat began, "Crona's stuck under the sink."
"I can see that." Maka rolled her eyes.
"And we're trying to get him out." Continued the Kid. "We've tried everything we can think of to make him slippery, but nothing's working."
"You'd think a kid this skinny would be easier to get out of a cabinet." Black*Star muttered, still throwing a snit.
"That's the last of it." Tsubaki said after pouring every ounce of vegetable oil upon the pink-haired boy so he could slide out. She grabbed Crona's waist as Black*Star had the same to her, Kid did the same to him, and Blair did the same to Kid.
"Join in, Maka!" Blair smiled. "We're gonna try and get Crona out!"
Maka sighed, grabbing Blair's waist and trying to push down her opinions on the awkwardness of the situation.
"All right, everybody." Tsubaki began. "On three. One…"
"THREE!" Black*Star exclaimed, jerking back. After brief hesitation, and some reprimanding at a certain ninja, everyone pulled back. After a cry from Crona, he popped free. Everyone fell back upon each other like dominoes.
"Yay!" Crona exclaimed joyously. "I can move my arms again!"
"Ow…" Kid groaned. "Black*Star, please remove yourself from on top of me."
"I can't get up until Tsubaki does!" The blue-haired boy snapped.
"I never realized how cute you were!" Blair purred at Kid, her arms still around his waist. "Cute little Grim Reaper!" She pulled the boy closer as the aforementioned Reaper gasped in surprise.
"Blair, this is highly undignified-!"
"Guys, I can't breathe!" Maka gasped from the bottom of the pile. Everyone quickly hurried off and stood, while Crona offered a hand to help his friend.
"You all right, Maka?" Crona asked. "I wanted to make you spaghetti, but I got stuck trying to find a pot…"
"That's all right, Crona." Maka smiled gently, but raised an eyebrow as she watched the Kid wriggle out of Blair's arms and make a run for it.
"I'm gonna catch you, Reaper boy!" Blair giggled, running after him around the kitchen table. Shaking her head, Maka allowed herself to relax. She'd be fine without Soul, she realized, when she was surrounded by such great friends. It was then, as soon as she grew comfortable, that her soul was jolted.
Losing all balance as she felt as if her chest had just been hit by a meteorite, Maka collapsed. Crona gasped, grabbing his friend's arm before she hit the ground and dragging her into a chair.
"Maka! Maka! Are you okay?" The concerned boy exclaimed as the blonde's eyes tried to focus on the world around her.
"I-I don't know…" Maka felt dizzy as she tried to figure out what was happening to her. Kid paused to stare at her, holding Blair off with his arms.
"What happened?"
"I said I don't know!" Maka snapped, gritting her teeth in the pain that was shooting through her chest. "It's like my chest's being ripped apart!"
The Kid's eyes widened. "Maka." He said slowly. Blair stopped once she realized the seriousness of the situation and the young Reaper continued. "Is your soul perception working? Because we need to find Soul. Now."
Maka watched her friend. "Why?" She asked, clutching her head.
"Because you feel as if your chest is being torn up because your soul IS getting torn up." The Kid explained. "I've heard of this before. If you're feeling this, we need to get to Soul. His soul was so tied to yours that if his in danger, you'll feel this kind of pain."
Maka's eyes widened as well as she stood, albeit shakily. "What's wrong with Soul?!"
She didn't wait for an explanation. Conveniently leaving Blair behind, Maka, with Crona behind her to support her lest she stumble in pain, ran to find her former partner. Tsubaki, Black*Star, and the Kid followed suit, chasing after the girl.
She saw the red before she recognized him.
Blood.
So much blood.
She thought she heard herself scream, but she couldn't be sure. Maybe she cried out his name. She didn't know. Everything was in slow motion as the world continued to spin around her, and yet another figure was thrown into the hurricane raging through her head to be tossed about by the wind and blood-red rain. She didn't notice his suitcase, with items strewn all over the small square. She didn't notice that his attacker was nowhere to be seen, and in fact she didn't even connect the dots to realize he had even been attacked. She didn't know how and didn't want to grasp it. All she knew was that her partner was motionless upon the ground, bleeding heavily.
She knelt next to him, clutching him in her arms. Burying her dainty nose in his shoulder, she cried once again. Tsubaki, shaking in fear, clutched his wrist to check for a pulse. Suddenly she stiffened.
"Maka." She said slowly. Maka didn't need to hear any more; she knew from her friend's tone of voice that her news wouldn't be good. She began to shake uncontrollably, and then screamed into his bloodied hair.
"SOUL!"
It was faint at first, and it came with no fanfare. No triumphant glow or noise, just a quiet sound. Maka couldn't believe her ears when she heard it and convinced herself she was dreaming until it was joined by another sound.
A tiny heartbeat, followed by gentle breaths.
Tsubaki's eyes widened once again. "Maka, do you hear that?" She gasped, still holding Soul's wrist. The blonde nodded, her own eyes wide as she listened intently.
Soul's tiny heartbeat, followed by his gentle breaths.
The spaghetti-loving Crona thing is a shout-out to TheSymmetricalist's fanfic "Keyboards and Writer's Block". :) Sorry this is so late, but it was Christmas. I'm sure you understand. See ya next chap!