CHAPTER 5

Kid exhaled, amazed to see his breath in the colder winter atmosphere. Despite the desert climate, Death City was full of surprises: little hints of the winter season managed to sneak into this southwestern oasis, whether autumn leaves falling around November, a colder climate in December, even blossoming flowers in spring. For a desert, it had some traits typical of less arid parts of the continent. Kid once heard stories from older Death Scythes that snow used to fall upon the city, a sight he had not yet seen. He rubbed his hands together, wondering what was taking Kristopher so long to arrive.

And why Black Star had not made his presence known already.

While he gave the ninja credit for keeping quiet for so long, at some point Kid was able to sense his soul, hovering above him as he struggled to balance himself on top of the stone entrance between the balcony and the DWMA hallway.

"If you wish to keep an eye on me, Black Star, you might as well partake in a conversation with me." He took a loud sip from the paper cup he had set on the balcony's banister.

Black Star's mouth hung open. "Come again?"

"Get down here and talk with me already."

"Oh. Okay." He bounced off the entrance and landed on his feet with a loud thud upon the balcony. "You sensed me, huh?"

He smiled. "You are improving at hiding your soul, assassin. But please, do not let your ego enlarge too much."

"Can't promise!" Black Star grinned, as he leaned against the banister. "Where did you score that coffee anyway?"

"Actually, it is hot chocolate. And I allowed myself into the commissary and prepared my own drink."

"Rule-breaker," Black Star smirked. "Give me a sip."

"No," Kid replied with a sneer.

"Jerk." Then he assumed a more serious demeanor. "You lied to them, huh?"

Kid sighed. "Not exactly."

"Not exactly?! You are taking off to who knows where for some mission, on Christmas Eve of all nights, instead of wrapping up your shopping and getting gifts for your weapons?"

"Not exactly."

"Oh, so you already got gifts for Liz and Patty."

Kid avoided eye contact. "Not exactly."

"Ah ha! You bastard! You can't even find a good enough gift for your own weapons, so you are just going to procrastinate and do anything you can but shop!"

"It is not shopping by which I procure gifts for my weapons, Black Star," Kid lectured at him. "It's just a matter of tradition."

"What?!"

He sighed. "What was Tsubaki's first Christmas gift for you?"

Black Star studied Kid, then turned to look at the Christmas lights adorning the roofs of multiple Death City homes that sat below their balcony.

"A new gi. My old one was all ratty and discolored from all the use I put into it. And from never washing it."

"First, that is disgusting," Kid lectured him on his personal hygiene. "Yet you see how well Tsubaki, despite knowing you so shortly, still in your first year as partners could anticipate a proper gift."

"Well, we have such small living quarters-kind of hard not to pick up little things on your weapon, right?"

Kid kept staring at the lights dotted across Death City below.

Hearing no reply, Black Star needed little reason to keep rambling: "What, having two weapons makes it twice as difficult?"

Kid sighed. "The first year I partnered with Liz and Patty, I could not think of one thing to get for them." He glanced at Black Star. "Can you imagine how awful it feels to not know what to get your own partner? I choose them, yet I fail to think of even one thing to get them." He gave a curt laugh. "Anything they asked for, I gave them-in terms of money, not in terms of undermining my own ethics or logic: I absolutely forbade Patty from turning the stairway into a slip-and-slide."

"Didn't she do that your first year anyway?"

"Moving o-"

"And smash a hole in the ceiling to put in a Jacuzzi?"

"Moving on," Kid warned him, his eye twitching. "But after giving every single gift I could imagine, it either was something I could give them any time of the year, or was, well, unnecessary: if you can give that kind of gift any time of the year, it loses any uniqueness at Christmas. Come December 24, I still was struggling to imagine any gift left to hand the two of them." He sighed. "I failed as a meister, because I did not know what to get them. I was completely useless."

"Hell, I don't think I ever know what to get Tsubaki, and I'm hardly a completely failed and useless meister."

Kid grimaced. "You really are hopeless, aren't you?"

Black Star held up his hands. "Hey, I just mean that you can't expect to know every little thing about your partner: ruins the mystery, right? So I figure there are one of two gifts I can get her and not utterly fail: I get her something obvious that she needs-and hope it's not that obvious to her-or get her something completely useless."

"Those...are rather polar opposites, are they not?"

"All about balance, right?" Black Star smirked. "If it's something she needs, then it's all good; if it's something she would never need, then it's definitely the kind of gift only I would get her, right? It's not a Maka gift or a Soul gift-it's a me gift-and that's always going to be awesome!"

Despite himself, Kid smirked: this was another one of those rare occasions in which he was in agreement with Black Star's paradoxical yet somehow sensible advice.

He gripped Kid's shoulders with both hands. "So, what's your patented Kid gift going to be?"

Kid narrowed his eyes, then closed them and gave a small smile. "You."

Black Star studied him. "Thanks, but I already have a great weapon. Plus I think Liz would get on my nerves after a while."
"Black Star-"

"Patty's cool, though. At least she can kick some ass."

"Black S-"

"Not as much as me, though."

He slapped his hands over Black Star's mouth. "Pay attention, okay?"

Black Star nodded. Kid removed his hands. "Look. Since my first year working with Liz and Patty, I...may have cheated on gifts."

"Really? How can you even cheat on gifts?"

"I had help." He looked over the balcony. How much longer was Kristopher going to take? "I trade one day of my year-Christmas Eve-to help an old friend of my father with his work. In exchange, he is able to provide me with the perfect gift for my weapons."

"This Kris guy, huh?"

"Kristopher, yes. But this year I already know what gift to get Liz and Patty, so I do not need to give up my day to assist him."

"Then go home already!"

"I cannot. I made other plans, as I will have to travel to retrieve the gifts for Liz and Patty." He avoided eye contact with Black Star. "And I need a favor from you."

"What would that be?"

Before Kid could answer, a bright light shone from beneath the balcony, and there arose on a spinning platform-colored with red and white stripes, shaped like a children's top. While the top itself continued spinning, somehow levitating the machine, the platform at its top remained stationary, evident by the two persons standing upon it. One was a very tall, very muscular, yet somewhat portly man in a crimson jacket and black slacks, and next to him a very short man, tanned and in a pressed suit.

Stairs opened from the platform's spinning bottom, resting upon the balcony below. Black Star studied the 6'4" large man who was now descending the stairway, his shorter comrade following behind him. Both had beards-the taller man's fluffy and white, the shorter man's trimmed and black. The taller man's coat seemed a bit too thick for Death City-he must shop at the same place Maka gets her long coat, Black Star thought, if he was able to wear something so hot in such a warm climate yet still look so cool. The shorter man's suit was rather monochromatic-an emerald green-save for the crimson tie. The taller man's thick black boots thudded onto the balcony, as Black Star worried whether the balcony could support this fat guy's weight. His boots were wet, too, sloshing as he stepped. The shorter man's shoes were of expensive leather, as he delicately avoided stepping in the melted snow left by his peer's footsteps. Black Star took a big whiff of the air: he smelled like gingerbread, peppermint, and...sawdust? The shorter man wore too much cologne.

The shorter man stopped walking, while the big man continued a few more paces before halting in front of Kid, both he and the Grim Reaper's son eying each other with hard stares. There seemed little jovial in the man's expression as he studied the seemingly equally unamused Kid. His beard heaved, not from labored breathing, but an overwhelming emotion that Black Star could not feel. The larger man pulled back his arms and let out a roar-it sounded to Black Star like a polar bear-as Kid tried to ready himself to resist. Shocked, Black Star got onto his toes ready to leap to defend his friend-and plummeted face first onto the balcony's floor, the shorter man having tripped his toes with a cane. What the hell was it with short annoying people with canes, Black Star thought, as he could only look up to see the red coated man put the squeeze on Kid, who had the wind knocked out of him.

"Kiddo!" the man bellowed with a hearty chuckle. "How are you?" He rocked Kid like an infant, hugging the child so tightly. "How's your dad holding up-still drinking all that nog?!"

"Yes, sir," Kid choked out, his smile persisting despite the searing pain shooting through his ribs. "Although it seems he is missing some of his preferred winter drink."

"Oh!" The large man let go, sending Kid falling onto his behind with a loud thud. "I best re-stock his supply tomorrow, then. Oh, but we have other work to attend to first."

He placed his hand inside his red coat, as Kid held out his hand, knowing what was coming. A weapon, Black Star thought. Again he readied himself to leap-and again was tripped by the short man's cane.

"What the hell?!" the ninja shouted, at which point the short man shoved a candy cane into his orifice-length-wise, preventing Black Star from closing his gaping maw. The short man shushed him, pointing to the large man, who handed Kid a thin pencil box.

"Merry Christmas, Kid! Careful with the pointy tip on the compass-it'll poke your eye out! Oh, and don't sharpen those pencils too much just because you want to keep them the same length-symmetry isn't everything!"

"Oh course, sir," Kid said, struggling to force a laugh to humor his father's old friend as he deposited his yearly pencil set into his coat's pocket.

"Say, now, that reminds me of a math joke!"

"Please, Kristopher, we do not have time for-"

"Well, it's the only math joke I know, but here we go: what did the acorn say when it grew up?"

One pair of eyes stared blankly at the crimson man, two more struggled not to look bored.

" 'Gee, I'm a tree!'"

Silence persisted.

"Get it?"

"Right-o, sir," the short man said.

"I don't," Black Star said.

The man with the white beard looked embarrassed. "Ho, I guess you had to be there! See, it's a homonym: if you say it aloud-"

"Really, sir, we're on a schedule here," the short man interrupted. "You mind picking up the pace?"

"Oh, Rupert," the red coated man replied, laughing despite the hint of offense he took. "Ho, ho, fine, fine." He turned to the mini-reaper. "So, Kid, I see you have a new partner for me this year."

Kid smiled, apologetically. "I should know that I cannot keep secrets from you, yes?"

"Right-o, Kid," the shorter man said. Black Star was finding the short man's happy dialogue to be really annoying given his gravelly voice and stony glare. "Kristopher here figured it out as we entered Nevada State airspace."

Black Star glanced down at the taller man's shoes, still not sure the balcony could handle such a fat guy like this.

"I assure you it can, Black Star."

The ninja blinked. "Um, I didn't say anything."

The tall man, Kristopher, tapped his own head. "You did up here, child. I tend to know the thoughts of people like you."

Black Star put his hands to his hips, leaning back his head with a wide smile. "Awesome people?"

"Naughty people."

Black Star stopped his haughty pose, and leaned his face as close as he could to the taller man. "And who the hell do you think you're dealing with, big boy?!"

Kid grimaced, exchanging a look with Rupert, who simply shrugged. The large man simply giggled. "You know, despite how long Black Star's been on the naughty list, he's one of my favorite children! Ho ho! It's like being a school principal: you always tend to know best the least well behaved children. But I suppose your father already knows that, huh, Kid?"

Kid groaned. "Black Star," he began, pointing hesitatingly at his father's old friend, "this is Kristopher Kringle."

Black Star blinked. "Dumb name."

Kid's eye twitched again. "Kris Kringle."

"Okay. But who the hell is he?"

Kid slapped his forehead: Black Star still wasn't getting it.

Rupert finally spoke up. "It's Santa, you mook."

Black Star's face stayed as it was for what felt like almost a minute, while Kristopher-Santa Claus-kept the same grin on his face as he shut his eyes.

Then Santa Claus felt a pile of weight land in his arms, that he feared he was going to get a hernia. "Ho nelly!"

"Santa! It is so great to see you again!"

"Um, this is the first time we have officially met, child."

"No, I leapt into your lap at least seven times today!"

"It was eight," Rupert said, consulting a clipboard he removed, surprisingly, from such a small jacket pocket. "Two hospitalized from overgrown child injuries, one quit the mall in disgust, one filing a lawsuit against the Academy." He slapped the clipboard against Kid's chest, walking past the stunned mini-reaper as he approached Santa, reached up to one of the straps around Black Star's waist, and yanked the ninja so hard that his chin slammed against the balcony's floor. "Please do not manhandle jolly old Saint Nicholas, hmm?" He kept walking past the grounded ninja to inspect the balcony's entrance into the DWMA hallway, glancing back and forth for any eavesdroppers.

Kid held out a hand to lift Black Star back up. "You know Santa?!"

"As I said, family friend." He placed a hand upon Black Star's shoulder. "Kristopher, having reviewed mission parameters, you will benefit more from someone who frequently engages in hand-to-hand combat and assassinations than someone such as me."

"And this of course has nothing to do with your tendency to be late with gift-shopping, Kid?"

Kid blushed. "Of course not, sir," he squeaked.

"Huh. Santa has you running scared, Kid?" He glanced back at the jolly white-bearded man. "Look at the guy! He's a big old ball of fun and happiness, spreading joy to everyone with gifts a plenty." Then a thought reached Black Star's brain. "And you have a backlog of gifts for me, right Santa? I haven't gotten a gift at Christmas time in years?"

Santa glanced at Rupert, then tilted back his head and laughed. "Ho ho...no. Just, just no."

Black Star blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I only give presents to small good children, Black Star!"

"But I haven't gotten a gift from you since I was eight!"

"Like I said, good children!"

Kid rubbed his neck and grimaced. Black Star looked stunned.

"Black Star," Santa said, gently laying his palm on the ninja's shoulder, "you have the auspicious credit of being on my naughty list seven years running."

"Impossible! I'm only"—Black Star started counting on his fingers, then grabbed Kid's two open palms then held up five fingers on his left hand and one on his right—"this many!"

"Indeed, Black Star, for almost half of your existence, you have been very, very naughty. Rupert," he said to the elf standing next to him, "my list."

"Right-o, sir!" said the gravelly-voiced elf, as he unfolded a parchment from his pocket to hand to his boss.

Still staring at the two young men across from him, Santa adjusted his spectacles and pointed his finger onto the list, then peered down to find Black Star's name. "Ho ho, let's see...Age 9, you smashed a boy's glasses."

"Yeah, Ox's-'cause he made fun of Maka's dress!"

"Age 10, you pulled a prank on your foster father."

"Yeah-while Sid was showering after gym, I pulled the fire alarm-poor dude was left standing in the quad, clad only in soap suds."

Kid side-eyed Black Star. "Hmm. I remember hearing of that prank. Are there more interesting highlights?"

"Age 12, your classroom science experiment exploded bubble gum everywhere. Oh, dear...Your poor friend Maka got so much stuck in her hair, she had to cut off her own pigtails!"

"And Soul had to get a haircut to match, too!" Black Star let out a boisterous laugh that even made Santa jealous, the jolly man finding himself rather impressed with Kid's friend. "Soul hated seeing how badly Maka was feeling, so he cut off his bedhead look for her!" He ribbed Kid. "You should have seen their hair-they looked like twins! So adorable! So lame!"

"The symmetry is appreciated though misplaced, Black Star," Kid chastised him.

"Age 13. You spit into Soul's soda."

Kid's eyebrows rose. "Actually," he said with a smile, "that is rather humorous." He took a sip from his hot chocolate.

"Age 16. You spit in Kid's hot chocolate."

Santa instinctively moved his right foot behind his left, anticipating that as the exact spot on the balcony where Kid would cough up his beverage.

Sure enough, Kid did.

"When did that happen?!" the mini-reaper shouted, doubled over to hack up the rest of his drink.

"Three minutes ago, Kid, when you weren't looking."

Black Star titled his head back, guffawing. "Always a holiday classic!"

It was worth it, Black Star thought, as he felt the heel of Kid's boot collide with the back of his head. Even the puddle of blood forming on the balcony's floor didn't feel that bad.

"Oh, dear," Santa bemoaned. "Rupert! Procure the first aid!"

"Right-o, sir!"

A few bandages later, and Black Star was back standing.

"So, how do I factor into all of this?"

Kid, still cross, explained the mission: "Santa's transportation has been grounded."

"What, the reindeer ate something bad?"

"Perhaps," Santa began, "but I never heard of food turning reindeer into zombies."

Black Star blinked. "Like, Sid-esque zombies? But I thought only Stein could pull that off."

"Evidently through medical ways," Kid replied after he had gargled mouthwash provided to him by the ever prepared Rupert and his magic bag of tricks. He even provided the mini-dentist sink in which to spit into, before the elf chucked the entire mess over the balcony-a cat's screech confirming its landing. "But it seems there are some primarily non-medical tactics to command the will of someone to make them, from the soul to their body, into a zombie. It seems whoever is controlling the reindeer is taking the more traditional approach of voodoo: the reindeer are not dead, but as you overheard from my discussion with Father, my concern is whether those reindeer need be put down in order to free them from such magical control."

Kid glanced to Santa, who finally assumed a depressed demeanor. The young reaper then looked to Black Star. "It has been a while since I have encountered voodoo as an option for controlling the souls of anyone, and I am sure Father would be most interested in making sure that we do not have a new threat emerging, so shortly after...previous opponents we have fought."

Black Star studied Kid. Was he shaking? It wasn't that cold out.

Kid composed himself. "Hence it is of paramount importance that you succeed at this mission," Kid said. "If Santa lacks transportation, children lack presents. And the DWMA has enough problems that we do not need to have children turn into Kishins out of holiday bitterness."

Black Star raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Whoever heard of Kishins being created through poor gifts?"

"Ho, ho, Black Star," Santa laughed, gently rubbing through Black Star's distinctively styled hair. "Have you ever faced wrathful children who were so pissed off upon receiving only socks and underwear for Christmas?"

"Yeah, me!" Black Star answered.

"Oh, you are nothing compared to other threats I have faced, child," Santa said, jovially. "Why, I would rather tussle with twelve Kishins then even one frowning child."

Black Star pouted. "I'm frowning, and you ain't giving me jack shit this year."

Santa met the frown with a smile. "You get the gifts that you deserve for the reasons that you deserve them, child." He marched to his spinning platform, Rupert following behind him. "So, are you coming or what?"

Black Star stared at Kid, who simply shrugged. "So, why me?" the ninja asked.

Kid placed both hands on his shoulder. "If anyone can retrieve someone from such madness, it would be you."

Black Star kept his eyes on Kid, as he blushed. "Hell, why not Maka? I...I'm not that good at the whole anti-madness stuff. I tend to just go mad, you know?"

"Black Star," Kid continued, "that is just the reason: you will have the tenacity to take down whatever controls those reindeer and to find another option to save them." He removed his hands from his shoulders. "And while Maka would indeed be an ideal candidate to send along with Santa here, there are extenuating circumstances that make her inclusion in this mission suspect: I need complete secrecy on this mission, do you understand?"

The assassin blinked, his usual arrogant smile returning. "Um, have you met me? When we get back from the Academy, I'm going to tell everyone that I fought zombie reindeer with Santa! You can't stop me from that!"

Kid smirked. "Watch us. While I have 99.9 percent certainty that Maka may keep this secret should she ever learn t, there is still that less than one percent doubt that she would talk. With you, however, while I am 100 percent certain will you blab to everyone in the school, Kristopher and I have determined the best way to keep you silent."

"And what would that be?"

"Black Star," Santa interrupted, assuming a tone like a parent negotiating with a petulant child, "if you help me with this mission-whatever happens, success or failure-I will remove your from the naughty list."

Black Star stared, then grumbled. "Like that will buy off my silence." His eyebrows rose. "Hey! You already know I will blab! So you already know you will never take me off the naughty list! This is an exercise in futility!"

"Yep!" Santa boasted.

Black Star shrugged. "Well, can't argue with that logic. Fine." He marched past Santa onto the platform. "But I am so going to be annoying the entire ride up to the North Pole!"

"This is different how?" Kid, Santa, and Rupert simultaneously asked.

Black Star could feel his eye twitching. "Let's just go!"

He felt a slap to his back. "That's the Christmas spirit!" How the hell did Santa already get back on the platform that quickly? "Let's depart! Rupert, lock in our coordinates!"

"Right-o, Santa," the elf said. Wait, how the hell did he get there next to Black Star?!

Black Star shook his head, desperate to think about anything else. He saw Kid waiting on the balcony below, staring up at his fried. "And where will you be, Kid, if not helping out on this mission?"

"I have an appointment I should have kept years ago." He glanced at one of the clocks in the hallway behind him. "And based on time zone differences, it should already be Christmas there." He then opened the palm of his hand, a mixture of black swirls and illuminated skulls escaping as his flying skateboard, Beelzebub, emerged. "I trust you, Black Star-watch Santa's back, okay?"

As Kid flew out of sight, Black Star's mouth curled at one side, as he marched the steps up to the spinning platform and crossed his arms. "This thing going to get us to the North Pole very quickly?"

"Faster than you could," Rupert muttered.

"Now, now, my friend," Santa said gently, "let's have none of that bickering. Rupert, if you will, set a course for the North Pole!"

"Right-o, Santa." With that, a hologram appeared around Rupert's hand, forming into a globe of the Earth. With a touch to the tip of the planet, the platform's steps closed up to the bottom of the platform, and the platform, spinning like a top, ascended, then shot through the sky like a comet. Black Star, not anticipating the acceleration, flew back, barely catching the edge of the platform as he held on for dear life, as the transportation sailed for the North Pole.

o-o-o

WRITER'S NOTES: Chapter 5

I am writing that Patty and Jacuzzi story: it is the first fan fic request I probably will finish before the end of 2013.

SymmetryLocked was the one who clued me into the idea that Kid would prefer hot chocolate to coffee. Check out the author's fic "Random Soul Eater Oneshots" for that headcanon.

Black Star embodies my last-ditch gift-giving philosophy: something entirely useful or entirely useless is about the worst that you can do if you are stuck determining what to give someone for a gift.

I hesitated on adding Santa Claus, but I wanted something in the story that embodied many of the Christmas special tropes, and the jolly old elf is one of the most iconic characters to include. The struggle was not to repeat what had been done, and with Soul Eater already drawing upon so much from The Nightmare Before Christmas, I did not want to do what Burton and Selick had done which is a humorless, old, though badass Santa.

I had initially drafted Santa as starting out as serious as Kid first makes him out to seem, while he evolves through his interaction with such a big-hearted kid as Black Star—yet I do not have the room right now for that characterization, and I am already so cynical that I really do not want to portray a bitter, hardened Santa: I like my Santa being this optimistic ball of hope, in spite of whatever challenge he faces. And I think that having him closely resemble Black Star in that boundless optimism, while potentially annoying by having two almost identical characters, does allow them to bounce off of each other well. If you hang in there with me, there is some pathos to this Santa, and I hope it helps to develop Black Star.

Instead of bitter Santa, I drew a lot from the happier, wacky, and slightly unhinged portrayal of Santa that I encountered in the animated series The Tick—and I think I completely plagiarize or, at best, allude to that series' portrayal when I have Santa passing out pencil sets and other underwhelming Christmas gifts to the Tick and Arthur. Please search for and watch "The Tick Loves Santa": it is a delightful, hilarious Christmas special that has that cracked sense of humor I was trying to bring to this story. Plus The Tick comes from the guy who has worked on Angel, Dr. Horrible, and Supernatural, so it should appeal to a lot of viewers.

It is almost entirely coincidental that Rupert in my story resembles the Secret Service Elves in The Tick: I had Rupert in mind when I had him meet with Kami, and I liked the image of a shorter, more serious individual contending with a bigger, jovial character—kind of a Laurel and Hardy or George and Junior dynamic. Plus there is more to Rupert as regards his partnership with Santa—but we'll get to that in another chapter.

The bubblegum remark is an allusion to adorable fan art on Tumblr by missymoobelle, eisschirmchen, alzer, and more. Seriously, check out this post by alzer on Tumblr: /post/48558202618/welcometodeathcity-s-puff-eisschirmchen

Next Time: We finally get back to Soul and Maka, and we see how Liz's privileged knowledge allows her to ease some tension between the two.