A/N: Santa is real in Soul Eater Land! Or, at least, in this oneshot.
Shinigami skipped over to Star's computer and glanced at the song opening for the new harmonize oneshot. "Hey, I know this song!" he exclaimed.
Spirit walked over to them and eyed the screen. "Yeah, you and everybody else on the planet."
"I think we should sing it this time!" Shinigami suggested.
"Heh?" Spirit didn't seem pleased about this prospect.
"Let's go, Spirit-kun!"
Good tidings we bring
to you and your kin
Good tidings for Christmas
and a happy new year
We wish you a merry Christmas
We wish you a merry Christmas
We wish you a merry Christmas
And a happy New Year!
/
"Argh! It's so cold!"
"Suck it up. You're my tough, manly Death Scythe, aren't you?"
"I. Hate. You."
"Aww, I love you too, Spirit-kun!"
The weapon and meister duo bickered and argued as they trudged up the snow-covered steps of Shibusen, cardboard boxes piled in their arms. Some jingled as they walked, and others shuffled loudly. His hands full, Shinigami kicked the double doors to his school open as they approached.
Spirit yawned. "It's so early!"
"Well, of course it is...we don't want to decorate with the kids already here," Shinigami informed him dryly. Ripping the tape off a box with his nails, the Reaper lifted roughly three pounds of tinsel on his back and skipped off to the south corridor. Shortly after he turned a corner, his head popped back out.
"Oh! Can you put up the tree?" he asked.
Spirit growled at him in reply. The Reaper only responded with a thumbs-up. "Great! Thanks! And remember, it has to be a really awesome tree!" With that, he disappeared once more. Shaking his fist at the retreating figure, the scythe finally huffed and looked around.
"What's he talking about? We don't have a tree..."
Then it struck him.
"Oh, hell no..."
/
Snarling, the Death Scythe took another swing at the tree. A blade sticking out of his arm, he pounded on the tree trunk mercilessly. After ten or so of these attacks, the trunk finally started to crack. Laughing victoriously, Spirit jumped back as the tree slowly fell, landing on the ground with a thump of breaking branches.
Dragging the tree back into Shibusen, he padded into the main corridor, where the Reaper was standing precariously on a ladder with one foot. Nails in his mouth and tinsel in his arms, Shinigami kept his balance as he strung up the tinsel effortlessly. Hearing the scythe approached, his head whipped around and he smiled at the sight.
"It's not the best, but it's okay," he mumbled through the metal nails in between his lips. Spirit glared at him as he righted the tree with effort. Sliding down the ladder, the Reaper threw a box into the scythe's arms and grinned.
As they decorated the tree together, Spirit smirked. "Hey, is Santa going to visit you tomorrow night?" he teased.
Shinigami lightly brushed his striped bangs out of his eyes and smirked mischievously at his scythe. "Spirit-kun, I have a permanent residence on the naughty list," he replied.
Spirit gave him a doubtful look. "Yeah, right."
"No, really," Shinigami told him, smirking even wider. "I was really naughty when I was younger."
Spirit eyed the Reaper. "Old man."
Bam!
"Oww..."
/
Shinigami hummed a Christmas tune as he checked off another name on his list. Biting the pen between his sharp teeth, he eyed the paper on the clipboard. "Looks like I'm almost done!" he said to himself. "Just one more present..." He sighed as he read the name. "And he's the hardest one..."
Taking a long nailed finger, he scratched his temple, pushing the Santa hat that had been glued to his head for the past three weeks ever so slightly. In his ears, loud music blared. He paid no attention to the lyrics, however, as he pressed the barrel of the pen to his pale lips.
He thought hard. What would he want? He was so hard to shop for. And he said he was so easy! Shinigami could think of nothing to get him. Almost as hard as his son. He could remember the conversation with the salesclerk now.
"Okay, well, what kind of things does he like?"
"Hmm...rearranging things, skateboarding, and hanging out with his friends."
"Sounds like a very talented child. What gift did you have in mind for him?"
"Something symmetrical."
The woman gave him an odd look.
"...Don't ask."
He sighed again. He would never think of something in time. What was he to do?
Suddenly, something shiny caught his eye. He whirled his head to a lady pushing a shopping cart to his left. He eyed the thing and smiled.
"Yeah, that'd be perfect!"
/
"The bond between meister and weapon," Shinigami murmured to himself amusedly as he extracted a watch from his cloak. Bearing the cross motif of his scythe, the watch ticked along harmlessly. Clutching it in his hand, Shinigami glanced left and right to make sure that Spirit hadn't returned from his break yet. The Death Room was completely quiet, save for the tick-ticking of the watch.
Turning the watch in between his large gloved Reaper hands, he chuckled. "It might be a lame gift now, but you'll thank me later," he whispered to himself. Tightening his grip, he tensed as yellow energy spiked out of his hand and body and into the watch, charging it with his soul wavelength. His cloak swayed in the force made by the energy as his mask was lit up yellow. When he cut off the transfer, the watch sparked with his wavelength.
Shinigami smiled beneath his mask.
"Yeah, I like it."
/
Spirit yawned widely as the two entered their apartment drowsily. "I'm beat!" he complained. "I hate Christmas parties!"
"Mm," Shinigami murmured in agreement.
"Wh- You slept all day- and through the party!"
"Oh...yeah."
"Yeah." Having reached his bedroom door, Spirit turned to the Reaper, a smile on his face. "Merry Christmas, sir."
Shinigami eyed him tiredly. Slowly, his frown turned upwards into a slight, half-hearted smile. "Merry Christmas, Spirit-kun."
He watched as the scythe smiled at him once more and entered his room. Not even bothering to open his door, the Reaper immediately dashed silently into the entryway and quietly exited.
The Reaper dashed out the complex doors and slid onto the snow-covered street, running as fast as he could. Panting, he looked left and right for a nearby mirror. Finding a large glass window, the Reaper skidded to a stop and glanced around to make sure no one was watching. He then kicked off the ground and leapt through the glass, feeling the rush of wind and the pulling on his cloak as he was thrown backwards into the Death Room.
On his knees (he had been a little too hasty when he leapt), he shook his head and darted behind his mirror. He changed into the red clothes there, with fluff on the edges. Dashing in front of the mirror and admiring his new outfit for a moment, the Reaper kicked his platform and watched as it opened up to reveal bulging bags of wrapped gifts. Shinigami grabbed a bag and opened it to see who was on the tag. He then shrugged the bag on his back and turned to his mirror.
He froze.
"Whatcha got there, Santa Claus?" Spirit asked, no tone in his voice. He glared at the Reaper in the mirror's reflection, his arms folded.
"Spirit-kun!" Shinigami greeted, grinning nervously. His eyebrow twitched slightly. "What brings you here?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Spirit replied lowly. "Taking over Santa's job?"
Shinigami opened his mouth, but no words came out. Closing his mouth into a frown, he turned away and moved to step into his mirror.
"Wait!" Spirit yelled. Shinigami whirled around fiercely, his eyes aflame and spike curled in fury. "What?" he demanded. "I have to deliver these by sunrise!"
"Why?"
"Because I just do!"
"Why! Tell me!"
"Because Santa won't!" Shinigami yelled. "Because he doesn't come to Death City! He doesn't come because of me!"
Spirit was speechless. He blinked once, twice. "B-but..."
"I told you I was on the naughty list. When I was younger, I was chasing a witch up in the Arctic. The fight got out of hand...and we ended up in Santa's workshop. There almost was no Christmas that year. But if it wasn't for me, there wouldn't even be a year!" Shinigami growled, gritting his teeth. "Anyway, long story short, I pissed off Santa and now he doesn't come to my city. So I deliver the presents. Have been every year."
Spirit was silent.
"Now that you know my little secret, go away."
"Wait! Let me help."
Shinigami scowled. "Spirit, go back to bed."
"No. C'mon. You can't do it alone."
"I can, and did for the past eight hundred years."
"Yeah, well..." Spirit desperately tried to think of something. He failed. "J-Just let me help!"
"Why?"
Spirit was silent, even though he knew the answer to that question. Because I don't want you to be alone.
He settled on "Because we're friends."
"Since when?" Shinigami snorted. Spirit was about to take offense, but he relaxed when he saw the playful smirk tugging on the corner of Shinigami's mouth.
"We're friends," Spirit replied loudly over Shinigami's snickers. "and friends don't let friends steal Santa's identity alone."
Shinigami glanced at his scythe, an amused smile on his face. He raised his hands. "All right, Spirit-kun, you got me. If you wanna waste your night breaking and entering people's homes with me, hey, who am I to tell you no?"
Before Spirit could give a victory exclamation, Shinigami grasped the scruff of his jacket. "Hang on!" the Reaper told him. He pushed the scythe forward and into the mirror. The surface rippled as Spirit went through, Shinigami following behind him.
Spirit rolled on the ground roughly, slowing to a stop on a rug in the middle of the room. Shinigami padded over to him, dressed in his Santa outfit. He opened the bag on his back and started to stuff presents in stockings. Spirit looked around and started to munch on a cookie left on a plate. "Where are we?"
"Kim-chan and Jackie-chan's place," Shinigami replied. "Kim-chan wanted a new outfit and Jackie-chan wanted a movie."
"That's a lot more than two presents," Spirit noted, chewing on a ginger cookie. Shinigami looked at him with a smirk and winked. "Well, I like to spoil my students."
As they leapt from house to house, Spirit asked how Shinigami knew what people wanted. The Reaper, in reply, asked him dryly where he thought the letters to Santa went. Smirking, the Reaper added that some wished for intangible things, like love or peace. He didn't know what to do for those, so he got the next best thing, material goods.
After arranging the presents symmetrically at Kid's house, the two leapt onto the apartment complex where Maka and Soul lived. Shinigami forbid his scythe to enter, thinking that he would make too much noise and give them away. Leaving the whining Spirit behind, the Reaper entered through the roof and tiptoed down the stairs as quietly as he could. Leaving presents for all the residents, his final destination was Maka and Soul's apartment.
He walked in through the front door and snuck quietly into the living room. Reaching in the bag, he found that the meister and weapon's presents were the last of the bag. Mentally making a note to get some more, he began to slide the presents under the tree.
Suddenly, he heard the door open. His muscles tensed as he froze. As he heard footsteps, he frantically looked left and right for a place to hide. He dove behind the tree as soft feet padded into the room.
"...Santa?" a girl asked.
Maka! Shinigami coughed slightly, lowering his voice. "Yes?" he asked, his voice cracking due to his normally high-pitched tone. He grimaced slightly as he heard himself, shaking his head crossly.
"Is that really you?" Maka had a slightly more doubtful tone to her voice now. Shinigami scowled.
"Of course, little girl! Ho ho ho!"
"...Santa doesn't sound like that."
"How do you know?" Shinigami immediately snapped before realizing his mistake. He closed his mouth quickly.
"And you're too thin to be Santa!" the meister explained exasperatedly. "You look more like Shinigami-sama."
"I'm not that thin!" In his irritation, Shinigami had reverted back to his normal voice and stuck his head out the tree to glare at the girl. It immediately hit him afterwards.
"Shinigami-sama!" Maka declared, pointing at the blushing, shocked Reaper. Desperately, he tried to change the subject, inspecting his bony arm. "Am I really that thin...?"
"Shinigami-sama!" Maka finally understood that her headmaster was in her apartment dressed as Santa Claus with a bag of gifts on the floor. "Why are you ruining Christmas?"
Shinigami blinked, stunned into silence. "...ruining Christmas?" he repeated slowly, cocking his head. He glanced at the gifts on the floor and thought deeply as to why Maka would assume such a statement. Suddenly, a movie popped into his head, one he watched with Kid when the young shinigami was little. It was about a fuzzy green person who went around in a Santa suit stealing gifts and ruining Christmas. He figured that the scene from the movie was playing out right now. He turned to the scythe meister.
"Wait, Maka-!"
"Don't talk to me," Maka uttered coldly. "Of all people to ruin Christmas. You're just as bad as Papa." With that, he turned and stalked back to her room. Shinigami watched her go, words failing him. His shoulders slumped as the door slammed shut. He dumped the rest of the presents under the tree, ambled sadly out the door and climbed the stairs to the roof.
"What took you so long?" Spirit asked. He saw his Meister's gloomy expression. "...What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," Shinigami sighed. His normally bouncy voice sounded depressed and flat. "Let's go, I need another bag."
/
All the houses hit and all the trees with presents underneath them, the scythe sighed happily and stretched out. "I'm beat," he said tiredly. "I can see why you slept all day."
"Mm," Shinigami replied.
Spirit eyed his meister and grinned, taking him by the thin arm. "Hey babe, you want a lift?" he teased. Shinigami rolled his eyes. "Sure, Rudolph."
Spirit pouted and transformed into a scythe. Catching Spirit, Shinigami straddled the scythe and gripped the handle, feeling his shinigami power flow into the weapon. The two lifted into the air lazily. Shinigami rode the scythe with no expression on his face as he flew over Death City. As they neared their apartment complex, Shinigami leapt off the scythe and opened the doors as Spirit transformed back.
The two stumbled up to their apartment and mumbled "Merry Christmas" to each other. Before they could walk into their rooms, however, Shinigami stopped the other.
"Wait, Spirit. Since it's technically Christmas morning..." He reached into his cloak and extracted a fully wrapped box, handing it to Spirit. "Merry Christmas, Spirit-kun."
Spirit, frowning, took the box and undid the ribbon before ripping the paper off. He extracted a velvet box. He opened it and saw an ornately decorated watch, silver and black, decorated with the same cross motif as his clothes. On the back was the Death family symbol engraved into the silver, a mark of someone in or close to the richest, most powerful family in Death City, if not all of America or even the world. Shinigami always teased him that the wealthy and powerful 'Death family' was actually just him and Kid, but he stopped mentioning it after the silent addition of Liz and Patty.
Spirit looked up to thank him, but the Reaper was gone.
Shinigami yawned loudly as he climbed into bed, falling back on his pillow. As he did so, his head hit something hard and pointy. He whirled around and stared at his pillow confusedly to see a large bulge in it. Wondering why he didn't notice before, the Reaper dug under his pillow and extracted a gift.
"A present...?" The tag read, 'to Shini-kun'.
Recognizing the nickname, Shinigami knew who had gotten him the present. But why? Turning back around and setting the present in the space between his legs, the Reaper stared the ribbon, frowning.
"No one's ever gotten me a gift before."
Suddenly, he smiled, his eyes aglow in yellow.
"Heh. Thank you, Spirit-kun!"
He went to Shibusen the next week sporting white gloves that fit his human hands.
/
A/N: Remember kids, it's not the gift but the thought that counts! XD
Happy holidays everybody! It doesn't matter if you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah or Kwanza, you'll still get Shinigami Chopped! Especially if you don't review! 8D