Epilogue
He always looked so peaceful asleep. Gentle enough not to wake him, Maka smoothed out the messy grey hair on the toddler. Ichiru was growing up too quickly, and showed to be an exceptionally active boy. Every time his mother checked on the little five-year-old he was up to some form of mischief.
Some three or five odd days ago Maka had watched him frolic in the park, chasing butterflies. It was a bit strange that he chose not to play with the other children, but Maka figured he was like her in those days: an only child who preferred solitude.
What disturbed her about the day, however, was when he suddenly escaped from under her maternal radar. One second he was there, intently following a medium-sized Monarch butterfly. The next moment, he was the invisible boy, nowhere in sight.
An uncomfortable tightness in her chest told Maka something was off.
"Ichiru," she beckoned, a hand cupped around her mouth to amplify her call. "Ichiru?" All over the park she'd run, looking for her precious son, only to find him on the older kids' side, under the overhang for the slide next to the jungle gym. Evidently he'd chased down the butterfly with an admirable obstinacy, in high hopes of catching it.
Success was one way of putting it; murder another.
The poor insect was held fast in his tiny hands, a gossamer wing in between each of his thumbs and index fingers. It was still alive, but it would never fly again.
Maka knelt near to the boy and frowned to accentuate her displeasure. The mother in her wanted to kill him and hug him at the same time for worrying her so much. "You scared me young man," she said, wagging a reproachful finger at him.
The child matched the frown, and wrinkled his smooth, pale brow. He looked down at the butterfly, which now lay cupped in his palm, flapping but unable to gain any altitude.
"Come on, let the butterfly go," ordered his mother. Maka gave a sigh as she watched him slowly place it upon the sandy ground, the pitiful thing still fighting to become airborne. She took his hand into her own and led the boy away from the little victim. It would die there, slowly, without hope and unable to leave. "What were you going to do with that thing anyway?" she muttered to herself.
Ichiru surprised her by answering.
"Take it apart?"
That was an idea she never considered. "Why?" asked Maka carefully. Her son wasn't very verbose, and the times he did choose to talk were always so confounding.
"…"
"Hmmm?"
"Just curious," he mumbled softly. They passed by the other mothers and children, moving away from the playgrounds, out of the park.
In reality, he had actually wanted to watch it die. Ichiru had been planning on ripping off its wings and see it suffer. The idea of causing another's pain was a very interesting subject he wanted to study, even at this young age he had a fascination with experiments similar to that of the butterfly he had released.
"Well, never mind then, we're going home. I'll be telling your papa about this."
"…" He looked to his sneakers as they weaved through the light crowd. In the past few years Death City's population had nearly doubled, and the streets were almost always full of people, giving it an overpopulated look.
"We're going on a mission tonight," she informed him. "So be on your best behaviour."
Usually when they went on missions, Patty and Liz offered to look after him. If not them, then Tsubaki and Black*Star were usually free if the twin pistols weren't.
"Are Auntie Patty, and Auntie Liz going to come over?" Auntie Patty meant candy, and Auntie Liz meant he could watch T.V all night if he asked.
"No."
"Then will Uncle God*Star and Ms. Tsubaki?" Black*Star insisted the toddler call him god, but his dad said to just call him by his first name. Ichiru ended up mixing the names together which no one really objected to.
Mother and son walked up the stairs of the apartment, the steps creaking softly.
"Everyone's busy, so I hired a new babysitter, Ichiru-kun, so I expect a good report from him."
"…"
Ichiru watched as Maka opened the door to the apartment with a small golden key and smiled.
"His name is Mr. Kurai, and he seems very nice."
Oh, how the ignorance of her words would reopen their healed scars.
A/N: And so ends Scars and Stitches, hope you enjoyed the story. Special thanks to those who reviewed, favorited and subscribed. So I'm asking you all, should I make a sequel? Also, just wanted you to know: my friends and I are attempting to make an unofficial animated spin-off series of Soul Eater so if you want to help, just PM me. We also may try to make webcomics of all my stories so if you want to help with that be my guest. The main reason I've been lagging with the updates is school, but expect Decisions to finish and have a sequel, and Family Day as well.
Psst~ dont forget, we need as many colorers, panel planners, and animators as possible, so yeah... Love you all and don't forget to hug Soul, Maka, and Kid!