Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater.

Training Days

by. Lacrow

Chapter 2

Proverbial Thrust and Parry

The hot desert sun beat down on them, unrelenting as it scorched their skin and evaporated their sweat. The gusts of earlier were nowhere to be found in the flats, and the air became thick and stale with the tension that mounted between them. Soul took a moment to look at the far off audience to his right, and the one lone spectator that had decided to follow them halfway. He shifted in his spot.

"Let's get this over with." he growled, voice directed at Leon but eyes at something else. "Before my meister gives herself an aneurism."

Leon was wary, but he looked over anyway in curiosity. A distressed Maka caught his attention, her facial expressions impossible to see. He could tell simply from the way she was standing that she was angry, at her weapon he assumed. Looking back at his opponent he found that Soul was still not paying any attention to him, instead most of his focus being in those red, emotionless eyes that Maka had full custody and control over. His anger swelled.

"My meister," he exhaled. "Not yours. Not anymore. You don't deserve someone as talented, smart, and respectable as the daughter of Kami Albarn."

Soul broke his gaze immediately and lifted his scythe to silence the other. "No one - not now - not ever - is going to separate us. That'll be the first thing that I beat into you."

Why do they keep saying such stupid things! This whole thing is ridiculous!

Maka's fists shook under the weight of her own anger. She had just taken the back seat to her weapon yet again, after she had specifically gotten after him for not listening to her earlier. In her mind she decided that when this was over, he would get the full brunt of her fury, and this time around she would not be so quick to help him back up afterwards.

"Soul Eater!" she shrilled.

Soul's attention immediately shot back to his meister at the sound of his last name, a clear indication at the level of pissed off she was experiencing. A knot forming in his throat, he swallowed as a single shiver shook his spine, running up towards his neck and back down again lightning fast. In his head, he knew that there was an opponent to beat. But he also knew that a livid Maka was a far worse adversary to fight, and he was smart enough to know when to pay attention.

"The minute you finish this," she started, her fury toned back down to a painful simmer. "We're going home. I'm going to take away your console. I'm not cooking for at least a week. You'll be doing both our laundries for the next two weeks. And whatever else I can't think of right now, you'll be doing it!"

"But Maka!-"

"-Don't you dare 'But Maka' me, Soul!"

The boy named Leon watched in utter disbelief as the 'death-scythe' across the field brought his arm back down from its threatening position. He then brought his hands behind his head and clenched the back of his hair. With a distressed look on his face, he pleaded with his partner, begging her to reconsider. Maka continually hounded at his attempts, standing firm in her decision to punish him for his disobedience, like a dog that kept peeing on the carpet after specifically being told not to. The bickering went on for minutes, and the thick, stale air seemed to lighten at their comedic fighting.

However, as the two continued with their silly squabble, the anger within Leon continually mounted, and his patience with everything grew thin. Alone with his thoughts, his fists shook as the words slowly gathered at the back of his throat, until he could take it no longer. He had no problem screaming them out at the top of his lungs, and with a strange kind of pleasure he released his thoughts, his every intention being to stop the nonsense so he could finally fight and win his prize; Maka Albarn.

"SOUL EATER EVANS!"

Maka suddenly halted her heckling and turned to the source of the roar. Soul did the same. And as they looked on with wary eyes at the wrath within Leon's, they knew that confrontation was imminent.

"I've watched for a week as you, a death-scythe, make a mockery of yourself by not taking your life seriously, and not only yours, but the woman you're willing to fight for's as well!" Leon hissed, blade trembling as he stretched it outwards. "I'm tired of waiting any longer. I'm tired of playing second fiddle to someone who doesn't realize what they have! I'm sick, and tired, of you!"

Soul's eyes widened. He knew what was coming somehow, like a sixth sense, or instinct, call it what you want. It tickled the back of his neck as if warning him, making his hair stand on end. He braced himself immediately, not knowing what was coming. Only that it was coming.

Leon started his assault. From his motionless stance, he immediately set out into a full speed sprint. His level of agility was insane, his very image blurring with the mirage-like ripples in the air. Both Soul and spectators alike marveled for a moment as he seemed to disappear into nothingness, only to re-appear right in front of Soul. A fraction of a second later they were at each other, their blades locked in a solid tug-of-war for control.

Leon grounded his feet and drove them in a desperate attempt to overpower Soul quickly, but he would not budge. The swift Pata blade that he bore on his hand was just too light compared to the death-scythe's, and he watched in horror as Soul forced him back, causing him to wobble as he tried to regain his balance.

"Never rush in like that!" Soul barked, ducking as he went underneath to attack him from below.

Leon recovered quickly enough to parry the scythe blade by catching it with the slits in his gauntlet, twisting his arm in a way that forced Soul to follow. The white haired boy had no time to react as Leon released his blade and allowed his opponent to fall forward due to his own momentum, leaving him completely open to attack.

"Never let your guard down!" Leon bellowed in return, his blade cocked in preparation to stab.

Soul watched as the blade came down quickly, aimed straight for his stomach. With no time to think and instinct from his training kicking in, Soul's left hand came to fill in the void of his right. A scythe appearing almost instantaneously, he blocked the attack by the skin of his teeth. The resulting clash produced enough force to knock Leon back a few steps, and allowed Soul to turn on his side at the last second, coming to a crashing halt on his ribs as he landed.

Leon jumped back to his previous spot in caution, debris kicking up as he slid the entire way along the sand. Blade to his chest, he crouched in a defensive posture and waited for Soul to recover, determined to not repeat the same mistakes the two had just committed.

"Stand up, death-scythe, before I lose my cool again!"

Wincing at the pain in his ribs, Soul lay on his side for a few moments as he tried to think things through.

He's fast, too fast. There's no way I can keep up with speed like that. I have to make him come to me.

Shaking his head and smacking the ground, he hopped back to his feet in one motion. Regaining his focus and stance, the boy brought both of his arms across his chest in an X formation. The scythe blades returned and formed a defensive wall of steel. His eyes focused on his opponent and they too took the resolute properties of the metal that plated his arm.

"How about you get back here and fight me head on!" Soul ordered across the flats.

"Give me one good reason!" Leon called back, determined not to charge in first again.

Soul's eyes narrowed. He figured that since he couldn't rush recklessly into anything, he'd have to outsmart the Demon Pata. Closing his eyes, he tried to hatch a plan.

Well, he's obviously got a short fuse, either that or he's been fuming for way too long. And it goes without saying that he wants Maka to be his partner...he wants her to like him, too.

Shrugging to himself, he decided that the only thing to do in a moment like this was something he very rarely liked to do; gamble on the situation. A mere taunt, that was his great plan. And, hoping that the one thing Leon couldn't allow was a blow to his ego, Soul put his brilliant plan into motion.

"What do you want Maka to see you as!" he taunted, making sure his voice carried as far and clear as possible. "The honorable fighter who'd give his all for her? Or a little bitch of a weapon that kept running as he got a couple scythes shoved up his ass?"

Maka's face suddenly flustered in annoyance at the thought of herself being used as a taunt. "Soul! What do you think you're doing? Don't encourage him!"

The weapon ignored his meister, and instead waited for a response from the other end of the field. A small bead of sweat hung at his temple as he held his breath, a moment passing by without reply. Then, ever so quietly, he could hear the boy across the field respond. The words were calm, the tone was quiet, but Soul knew that it was forced and that his real thoughts were masked by a cool exterior.

"I'm going to kill you in five seconds."

From his spot Leon rushed towards him immediately, arm stretched to the side as he sprinted with what seemed like all the force he had. Soul grinned like a devil as he watched the boy take the bait. He had gambled and just hit the jackpot! The only thing left to do was to turn it around on Leon!...there was, however, a problem. It was one that Soul hadn't quite thought through yet, and now that the rest of his plan had worked, he had to deal with the inevitable question that needed answering. How the hell do I do that?

One second…

Leon was fifty meters away, sand trailing behind him as he blitzed towards Soul. His speed was insane, comparable to Black*Star's even. It outclassed any other opponent the young scythe had ever encountered before, and it confounded him as to how he would counter it.

Two seconds…

Twenty five meters away, he was close enough for Soul to see the look in his eyes. It wasn't that self-righteous utter bullshit that he had seen in him in the short time they'd known each other. It wasn't the look of honor and commitment that he had for a particular person he'd never actually met before. No. He recognized that look, as he'd seen it in himself a few times, when the black blood within his veins became too much to control. It wasn't just rage. It was blood lust.

Three seconds...

Leon slowed for a moment. Soul gulped, wondering why all of a sudden the opponent brought his blade from his side to out in front of him, outstretched with the the tip pointing directly at his head. Was he trying to run him through? To skewer him in some sick plan to steal Maka from him after getting rid of the competition? Did he really want him dead? Was he just trying to intimidate him?

Four seconds...

Demon Pata Camp. The thought crossed Soul's mind as he watched as Leon suddenly thrust himself into the air with all his might, performing a front flip as he threw his legs over himself, gaining momentum to carry through his now painfully apparent plan. As he straightened out, he brought the blade in front of him again. Soul's face was emotionless in defeat, himself now knowing exactly what Leon was trying to do. He was aiming for the one open spot on his entire body. He was going to slice right down the middle of his head.

Five seconds are up...

"DON'T DO IT!"

His eyes were forced open by her call, and in what seemed like a painfully slow moment in time, he looked over at the girl he was fighting for. In that small window, he caught a glimpse of Maka that he rarely ever saw, and an emotion she almost never showed; fear. She was afraid that things were getting out of hand. She was afraid that he was going to seriously hurt, or worse. And in his mind, Soul realized that whatever happened, he had to get out of this situation and finish the fight. Not for his pride. Not for the sake of winning. No. He had to do it for her, because if he didn't, not only would he be possibly maimed in the process, but the bastard was going to take Maka away from him. He wasn't sure what thought pissed him off more.

The blank expression that he had soon gave way to a look of determination and for a moment, Soul felt as though for the first time since his sparring match with Spirit did he know exactly what to do. He turned his attention back to the blade that came down towards his head, time seemingly speeding back up to regular speed. The X formation across his chest suddenly became inverted as he flipped his arms, the sharpened edges held outward in a scissor pattern.

Leon approached fast and Soul wiped all doubt in his mind, both of them waiting for Leon's blade to reach that certain point that would benefit them the most respectively. Then suddenly Soul's eyes flashed. He had found the opening he was searching for, the blade only inches from the crown of his head.

As Leon came down, Soul brought his blades up to meet him, and his eyes instantly grew wide as he knew that he had just walked into a trap. A second later, and Leon's blade arm was caught between the two scythes, his whole self being held midair in the process. He wasn't going anywhere. Soul had him right where he wanted him.

"You took the bait." he sneered.

Soul let his scythe's slide past each other, lopping off Leon's blade in the process. The unmistakable sound of a guillotine rang throughout the surrounding area, a shrill scream following soon after. The loose piece of metal fell to the ground, leaving its previous owner to quickly scamper back to his defensive spot across the field from his opponent. Blood trickled down his arm as it returned to normal. Everything was still there, hand and all, but the phantom pain he experienced still felt very real.

Maka's eyes grew wide.

"You bastard!" Leon hissed, crouching on the ground as his arm fell limp, blood trickling from invisible wounds.

Soul's face, darkened, came to level with Leon's as he too crouched on the ground. "Be thankful it wasn't your ass this time."

His meister's heart had skipped an unaccountable amount of beats in a very short amount of time, so as the lull of semi-peace slowly spread through out the area and her pulse followed suit, an uneasy sickness hung over her. The thought of Soul being sliced in half because of her was almost too much for her to bare. She cursed him over and over again under her breath for the way he put himself in such pointless danger. She then cursed herself for not being able to stop him in the first place.

Her piteous thoughts were soon put on hold however when she noticed Leon already beginning to stir again. She watched as the challenger slowly rose from his crouch, his legs first straightening, and then his back. He swiveled his shoulder for a brief moment and let out a cry of pain. Then, taking his other arm, he grabbed his opposite shoulder and flicked it into place as the tell tale *pop* of a dislocated joint radiated the area. He let out a low grunt, and soon he was swinging his arm in the air as if shadowing his weapon form.

"Why is he still able to move his arm? Maka inquired, rarely at a loss for words when it comes to Weapon/Mesiter related subjects. "His blade was chopped off! Doesn't it hurt?"

Maka's shocked words caught Soul's ears and, taking a momentary reprieve, he decided to quell her thoughts.

"It doesn't hurt that much when you lose a blade." he answered her calmly, thinking of moments when he had lost pieces of his scythe. "Only when you mess with the base. I'm assuming that the hilt was damaged in the process somehow and that's where the blood is coming from. His shoulder just went along for the ride."

"I won't forget it, either." Leon grunted suddenly, interrupting their short lived conversation together.

He waved his right arm, wincing from the pain. Then, apparently fed up with trying to rehabilitate it quickly, he simply let it fall limp at his side.

"You realize now that things are only going to get harder for you, right?"

"What a coincidence," Soul glared, still crouched like an animal. "I was about to tell you the same thing. Only problem for you though is I still got both my hands."

Leon smirked, his navy blue eyes settling in a sickeningly contemptuous look. "You disabled my right hand..."

Sticking his left arm out, the dark skinned boy transformed yet again, this time fashioning a blade from his elbow down, with the hilt this time being a simple silver cover as compared to the intricate gauntlet-like design of the previous one. Soul looked on warily as Leon took a deep breath and brought his new blade across his chest, just as he did last time.

"You do realize, however, that I'm left handed?"

A quick snort came from his opponent. He closed his eyes, an annoyed angle to his brows. "And what the hell do I care? I'll just take that one out too! It's over Leon, now give it up!"

"Soul, where'd he go!" he suddenly heard Maka scream.

His eyes immediately burst open, his heart quickly revving to unimaginable speeds within his chest. He had taken his eyes off Leon for a moment! For a fricken moment! And in that short moment, Leon had disappeared so quickly that not even Maka knew where the hell he'd gone to! He frantically looked to his left and right sides, desperately alternating between the two, looking for any clues as to where he could've possibly went. The fear that had left him earlier had now returned in full force and a sick uneasiness churned in his stomach. WHERE THE HELL IS HE!

"This is why you should care."

There was no time. Not even for emotion. In his crouched position Soul had the brief second to turn his head, glancing over his shoulder to find the image of Leon in the air, his blade cocked like a hornet ready to impale him at any moment. In a painful, twisted sort of irony, Soul realized that he found himself in the same position Spirit had earlier, only this time it was not going to result in the same outcome. His eyes glazed over for a moment, half closed, only to widen with tears a second later as the steel of his opponents blade sunk itself deep into his body. The reaction to scream came only after the sword erupted out the other side, the sight of bloodied metal sticking out through his right breast, sending him into a panic.

As quickly as he came, Leon removed the blade and jumped back, yet again retreating farther across the field. Soul was left there on his knees, grasping his wound for relief that he knew wouldn't be coming. The blood trickled out at first. Then flowed. Then gushed. His own red eyes paled to almost gray, as if being cut off from that one fluid that gave them their signature tint. Maybe they faded because he was surprised at how quickly it had all happened. Or maybe it was because of the way his heart sank when he caught Maka's sad, wide eyes as he clutched his wound and gasped for air.

"Soul..." she whispered, eyes tearing at the pitiful sight she found her partner in. She had seen him hurt before, and he had fought for her once before too, but for some reason this entire situation was just too much. Her thoughts and emotions were jumbled and she couldn't decide what to do. Should she jump in to help him? Would he want that? Should she even care what he wanted at this point? The only thing she could do was stand there.

"Soul!" Maka started, warily trying to at least do something. "You're gonna be ok! Stay calm!"

Soul nodded slowly as he watched her, eyes still wide in shock. His chest compressed erratically, every attempt at a breath resulting in convulsions. She was right, he was too afraid and likely to pass out if he didn't calm down. He started to take deep breathes, and although it was hard in the beginning, his condition improved just a little bit more after every try.

It took him a few minutes, but after calming himself down, and hacking up thin air a few times, he realized that there wasn't any blood in his lungs. He also noticed that after the initial spurt or two of the red stuff, the blood flowing out of the hole in his chest started to slow as well. The pain in his back was immense, and he couldn't even feel his arm, but at least he didn't have to worry about bleeding out. He assumed to himself that he was going to live.

"Cowardly...little fucker." Soul heaved through his teeth, right eye wincing as his arm on the same side fell worryingly limp. "Running back to your spot...every time. Can't even face me."

Leon's eyes were unyielding, his expression flat. He replied calmly. "Members of my family are surgeons by trade. Aside from making us more than enough money to fund our weapon activities, the knowledge of human anatomy helps immensely when making precision attacks. I made sure to hit you just below your shoulder blade in an upwards motion. No organs were hit, and you'll eventually be able to move that arm in a few days."

A few days? Soul had a nagging feeling in the back of his head that unless he recovered in the next few minutes, Stein, Ms. Marie, and that perv of a father of Maka's would come over and stop the entire thing, and then what would happen? Would it be a draw? Or...would I lose? He shook his head to snap out of it. He had to keep fighting, but that was easier said than done. His mind ached and his wounds were making his stomach queasy. The hell you gonna do now, Soul?"

"I'd have thought that you would've just chopped my head off while you had the opportunity." Soul heaved, trying to buy time as he planned.

Leon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, as if in regret. "It was never my intention to kill you. Earlier I had planned to slam your head with the butt of my blade and knock you out. You merely assumed that I was going to kill you."

A cracked grin managed to find its way on Soul's face. "I assumed that you were trying to kill me, because you said that you were trying to kill me!"

He shrugged. "I have a bit of a temper. People say lots of things in anger."

"That wasn't anger! That was just reckless abandonment with no regard for anyone!" Maka growled, more to herself than others. Despite that, she noticed that Leon seemed to jump a little at her words, somehow catching them even though he wasn't anywhere near her. He looked over at her fleetingly, then just as quickly bowed his head.

"Yes, well..." he started, trailing off somewhat. "...there's too much on the line to go easy on anyone. I don't intend to lose a chance at being with Ms. Albarn."

"You got that right."

Leon looked back up quickly, only to find that the crippled death-scythe was back up on his feet, still grasping at his chest. With a tired look, he shook his head. "What do you think you're doing, Soul Eater?"

"Soul, don't get up!" Maka croaked, still debating as to what exactly she should do with him. "You need to take it easy!"

A pained sneer worked its way on Soul's face at both of their comments. Wobbling, he removed his hand from his chest to maintain balance. Steadying himself, he took a deep breath. "I'm a pianist."

Leon blinked. "What?"

"I'm a pianist." Soul repeated, head held firm. "I figured you'd know that, considering you seem to know everything else about the two of us."

His opponent simply shook his head, amused. "I know you're an Evans, so you must be musically inclined. I don't know what instrument you play though, I honestly didn't really care enough to find out."

Giving his all, and with his pride on the line, Soul forced himself to stand up straight, the pain jolting him constantly, though he didn't dare show it to Leon. "You probably should have cared."

His eyebrow perked. He was impressed that he could walk and talk, and surprised that he still had the will to go on. "And why is that?"

"You disabled my right arm..."

Catching both Leon and Maka off guard, Soul brought out his left arm and stretched it out, summoning a huge curved scythe along his wrist that resembled a sharpened sickle. Any pain in his face that hadn't already faded did, and with a calm, collected smile, he held his ground.

"You do realize, however, that I'm ambidextrous?"

A.N: Second chapter of my first story, woot!

To be totally honest, it's not as long as I wanted it to be, but I thought that it needed to end there. Besides, I think Soul would appreciate the 'cool' last remarks I gave him. What do you think?

Chapter 3 is on it's way. I promise, there will be lighthearted moments, I just wanted to get a good chunk of the fighting over with lol