CHAPTER 13
Kid looked down. This idea was poorly conceived, yet if such an aged individual as Kristopher could accomplish it, so could he.
Thank goodness that this chimney was oddly more spacious than others, he thought, as he lowered himself, inch by inch, into the opening, then shifted his feet and hands, a bit each time, along the brick work. His hands were sweating from the stress, however, as he maintained his grip on the rough surface. He practiced his breathing, inhaling and exhaling, to minimize the amount that he was sweating. Let it was like a faucet, pouring from his forehead down his neck and shoulders and eventually to his hands.
Plus it was feeling a bit smoky in there.
"Oh, damn it all." Kid really hated clichés, as he saw the fire creep around him and singe the edges of his suit. And of course, the resulting asymmetry lead him to pat out those flames-and lose his grip on the bricks, falling downward into the fire below.
"Damn damn damn!" he shouted, as he crawled out from the fireplace, patting his behind swiftly to extinguish the blaze but to no avail.
Salvation came in the form of foam that sprayed onto him, a five-year-old holding a fire extinguisher as his parents stood behind him, the child's two older siblings staring in disbelief.
"Some apartments get Santa," one of the older children said, "and we get stuck with the Grim Reaper's emo son."
"Emo?" Kid questioned.
He then noticed both parents holding weapons-a baseball bat and a golf club. One of the other children had a hockey stick. Wonderful, he thought: he hit upon a sports family.
"Jeffrey Cruz, I assume?" he said to one of the men standing behind the three children. "Please, I am here only to retrieve what I asked from you, then I will be on my way."
"Why are you here, Mr. Emo Reaper?" the five-year-old asked.
"Lad, please, I simply want to speak with your father-"
"Which one?" all three kids asked.
Kid looked at the two fathers. "Which of you is Jeffrey Cruz?"
The man with the baseball bat lowered his weapon a bit. "Oh, please, can't you just leave me alone?!"
"No. Not when you have something I want."
He felt the three kids tackle him to the ground, the five-year-old sitting on his chest, the two older boys pinning his arms and legs.
"Please!" Kid pleaded. "I have had a miserable night: muggings, subways, now a burnt posterior! I just want to borrow something from you!"
"You partnered with those two bastards?!" Jeffrey shouted. "Forget it!"
Kid sighed. "Then as one pseudo-parental figure to a real parent, would you please consider that I want to offer something to Liz and Patty that their mother never provided to them?"
"Some class?" Jeffrey sneered.
"That's enough!" he barked. He sat up, the one son wrapped around his arm, the five-year-old somehow still sitting perpendicular to his chest despite Kid now standing straight, and the last son dragging on his leg, as Kid marched towards Jeffrey, took the baseball bat from his hand, and snapped it in half.
"Some happiness, you fool," he growled. "Now take me to wherever you keep your photographs, or I swear I will make sure Santa Claus fills this entire apartment with nothing but coal for decades to come."
Jeffrey glanced at his husband.
"Well, take him already! I don't want coal here-it's not environmentally sound."
Jeffrey sighed at his husband's timidity. "Really, Raul? God." He gestured for Kid to follow. "I was looking at those images when you called last week, so I already have them out. Take them and beat it-I'd like to catch some sleep before I'm stuck reporting on tomorrow morning's parade."
Kid smiled. "Thank you." He continued to walk, the three boys still attached to his body, impressed at the physical strength and apparent magic held by Lord Death's very own son.
o-o-o
Tsubaki inhaled. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," Maka replied.
"I don't suppose I could get you reading smut again, could I?"
Maka chuckled. "Get Patty to write some, and I'll consider it. Which pairing do you think she'll imagine next?"
"You and Soul."
SNICKT!
"I could cut you right now!"
"Hey, give me back my kunai!" Tsubaki shouted.
"Heeeeeeeeeeeeello!"
The two women looked at each other, then turned to see, in one of the many mirrors adorning the living room, the familiar shape of Lord Death pierce through the liquefied glass, as he stepped back into his mansion. As surprised as they should have been by the blinking Christmas lights adorning the foam reindeer antlers atop his head, they really weren't. "Whoo-wee!" He stretched out his back. "Am I exhausted. Hello, Maka, Tsubaki! I see Patty is all tuckered out. What was she doing, applying make-up to her dolls again?"
"Hi, Lord Death!" Maka exclaimed, forgetting she might awaken the young woman whose head was still in her lap. "Actually, Patty's had a long day: she wrote some...interesting literature, put up all the decorations, and even killed that tree over there."
"Ah, yes," Lord Death said, turning to appreciate the decorated tree. "Kid had told me you all took down that beast-excellent work!" Then he studied Patty. "Wait a second...Something's off here." He sniffed loudly, then recoiled. "Alcoholic eggnog!"
Maka and Tsubaki glanced at each other, cringing.
"Um, Patty, may have…" Tsubaki began.
"Did she go through my private stash?!"
Tsubaki studied him. "You...keep a private stash of eggnog?"
"Doesn't everybody?!" Then Lord Death ripped a portrait off the wall, taking off part of the plaster with it, revealing a safe. He pressed an ear-if he had one-to the safe, as he completed the combination, pulled on the lever, and revealed an infinitely long space that contained carton upon cartons of eggnog. "Woo! Thank me, it is still there!" Lord Death pressed his hand to his chest, calming his still beating soul, as he reached into the safe with foam hands, removed one carton, pinched the top, and guzzled its contents in one noisy slurp. Maka and Tsubaki's faces communicated their disgust with the sight and sound.
"Now, then," Lord Death said, having tossed the carton aside and procured another, "how went the missions for your partners?"
Maka and Tsubaki looked at each other. "Lord Death," Tsubaki began, "I had sent Black Star to keep Kid company while he completed his holiday shopping."
"Oh, that old lie again," Lord Death said. "Honestly, don't I teach that boy anything about telling the truth?"
Maka resisted the urge to ask Lord Death about some of the problems he had had with the truth before, instead opting to test him on whether her own weapon had some truth-telling problems: "And Soul? He's on a mission, too?"
Lord Death stopped guzzling his third carton of eggnog, as he struggled to cover his slip of the tongue. "Er, um, Soul and Liz got a mission-"
"You sent my sis?!" Patty said, having awoken. "Do you know what she'll do with Soul," she slurred her words. "I can't even begin to write that smut!" With her somewhat drunken stupor, Patty landed back in Maka's lap-face first.
As Maka struggled to compose herself, she continued her line of inquiry: "So, Black Star and Kid are on a mission, Soul and Liz are on a mission-how long before they get back?"
"Oh, Black Star and Kid are on their way back right now. I haven't heard from the others, though. But I'm sure they're fine."
"And will they be back home in time for Christmas?" Tsubaki tested him.
As he guzzled his seventh carton of eggnog, Lord Death answered with only a small hiccup, then promptly passed out.
Maka sighed. "Soul, that idiot," she cursed her weapon. "What monster is he facing right now?"
o-o-o
"I'm telling you, you need to add more nutmeg!"
"I know how to bake a pie, okay? I have been the one cooking pumpkin pie every Thanksgiving for the past three years, and every year Maka loves it!"
"She's just being polite—trust me, I know what my daughter wants more than you."
"You soul resonate with her on a daily basis? No? Then shut the hell up!"
"Pull over! I'm going to knock so much common sense into you, that you're granddad will remember to wear a condom rather than let your progeny persist!"
"Piss off!"
Liz Thompson really wished that her soul space included some music. I mean, if Soul somehow could conjure a piano set in his, couldn't she at least get an MP3 player? Or better yet, how about a hot tub? She had always had a nude form in her weapon space, so she was already properly attired. She sighed. Kid's Christmas surprise this year better be complete isolated access to the spa room so she could unwind—without him storming in again while she was in the middle of lounging.
"It's not my fault that your cooking likely gives my daughter ulcers!"
Jeez, the arguing was continuing.
"You even cook for anyone other than yourself recently? What, your cooking skills probably atrophied so that the most you make is a can of beans and coffee!"
"So, Kami!" Liz interrupted. "How would you put together a meal?"
"Funny story, actually!" Kami shouted over the drone of the motor—and into Soul's ear. "I am a whiz at breakfast prep! Omelets, bacon, pancakes—all the food my daughter loves."
"Omelets make her gag."
"The way you make them probably, Soul—can't handle eggs worth a shit!"
Soul gripped the handlebars. Maybe he could hit a tortoise or something and just crash the bike—he'd survive, right? He had been lucky so far getting over life-threatening injuries, right?
"The trick is the spices. For example, waffles—you got to add some Cajun seasoning."
"Yuck!" Soul uttered.
"Really?" Liz shouted from within the pistol sitting in Kami's holster. "How fascinating."
"I remember when Maka was four, I could not get her to eat anything but waffles or mac and cheese or peanut butter sandwiches. For lunch, she was so peculiar, that I would pack a peanut butter sandwich with bacon, fried banana slices, and honey on it."
"Oh?" Liz had stopped listening. Soul wished he had, struggling now to vomit.
"Called it the Elvis!"
"More likely would have killed her!" Soul shouted. Where was an overturned tortoise when he needed one.
"And my daughter thinks you're a music expert?" Kami shouted over the motor. "That's where you're wrong! Elvis isn't dead! That's just a DWMA old wives' tale!"
Then Soul Eater said the one thing that he did not believe, that he never agreed to, but which he could not dare to pass up, the joke too good to ignore, but which would ensure he would get such a painful head injury, that it was amazing he did not spill out while riding:
"You would know."
Even Liz felt a little bad for the brain damage he had to have felt from that one—and just as bad that she laughed. At least she stopped feeling bad—or, went from feeling emotionally conflicted to physically injured—when Kami was done throwing the book at her, too.
o-o-o
The top hovered over the steps to Gallows Mansion, as Black Star departed down its steps, then turned to look up at Santa and Rupert.
"That was pretty fun, Kris! We should do it again sometime-how are you for Easter?"
"Painting eggs, remember?"
"Maybe I could help!"
"You'd crack them all, kid," Rupert chided him.
Black Star groaned. Then his eyes brightened. "Hang on! I want everyone to meet you! Hey, Tsubaki! You still there!"
"Ho, Black Star!" Santa walked down the platform, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Remember, my friend, you must tell no one of this mission."
"But I still don't get it-you're a living legend!"
"Legend! Exactly! I am the stuff of dreams and myths, and I like being able to fade in and out of the spotlight as I can." He removed his hand, and walked a bit away, looking at the stars. "My old friend, Lord Death, is more of the showboat. Sure, he may be locked up in this city, but the world knows his face, and they see his work through people like you. It is you kids that give examples, true examples, of what you can do with your abilities, whether as warriors, or like those kids in the N.O.T. classes! But I am some old elf, and my example is to be what people aspire to, not necessarily what they will become. Do you understand?"
"Not...really. Just sounds like old person's rambling." He held up his hands. "But Tsubaki is really good talking to old farts! Let me go get her, and she'll parse it out!"
"Oh, for crying out loud-Santa is for children, not adults!" Rupert cried. "Just let the secret stand, you brat!"
Black Star glared at the rotten elf/weapon/pain in his ass. "Back off, you little squirt, or you'll be stuff propping up a table somewhere."
CRACK!
Rupert stood over a now supine Black Star, as he held a gigantic candy cane, snapped in half.
Black Star had enough. "Hold up! How come Kid gets not one, but two gifts, and I get jack shit?! I've been nice today!"
"But Kid has been a good boy this year, Black Star."
"Your dumbass weapon just clubbed me in the head with an oversized candy cane!"
"I know—that was hilarious!"
"And who's to stop me from telling all of Death City that I worked with the great and mighty Santa to save Christmas?!"
"This!"
Black Star then felt something wet and chunky pour down his head and through his clothes.
"Ug!" He turned to see Rupert, now back on the platform, holding a now empty carton. "What the hell, dude?!"
"Security measures, per Kid's suggestion: we cannot have you telling anyone about Santa Claus's existence, or else you will compromise the intricate weave of lies that sustain this joyful holiday season."
"You trust Kid with this secret!"
"He's practically family," Santa said, followed by a belly laugh. "Besides, Black Star, you'll probably blab blab blab"-he punctuated the point by opening and shutting his hand like a mouth-"to Tsubaki as soon as you get inside!"
"And if I do?! She'll believe me! Why woudn't she?"
The empty carton smacked Black Star in the head.
"Alcoholic eggnog," Rupert said. "As far as anyone will know, you got drunk on the stuff and imagined the entire evening."
"And who is to say, that with this Christmas magic at this time of year, young Black Star, that you did not just imagine this evening?" Santa Claus said, as he walked back towards the ninja, a twinkle in his eye.
"Me! I can say I didn't imagine it! I still have the scraps on my arms from that crazy reindeer head butting me with his antlers!"
Santa chuckled and placed his right hand on Black Star's shoulder. He put a finger to the side of his nose, and concluded, "But seriously, don't tell a soul."
Black Star closed his eyes, tilted his head away, and sneered. "Yeah, yeah. 'Cause I'm just one of the boys on your naughty list who doesn't get jack shit this year."
He felt the pressure leave his shoulder, and upon opening his eyes, he saw nothing before him, except for the shimmer of light, like a glitter falling from the stars above onto the ground. And as the light fell, Black Star finally noticed sitting at his feet was a sizeable box, about the size of his head, with a recipient card attached to it: "From: Black Star. To: Tsubaki."
"Aw, man!" Black Star bemoaned. "He couldn't even address the gift to me?!"
Another empty carton of eggnog beaned him in the head.
He looked up to the heavens and saw only a few faint lights, Death City being too bright to allow any stars other than him to shine.
He sighed. "Alright, I get it! Jeez!"
"Black Star?"
Hearing his weapon's voice, he turned, seeing her at the front door.
"Hey."
"Hey. You...were out an awfully long time. Kid just got back, and he had said you were on a mission."
His frown transformed into a smile. "Oh yeah! I was fighting zombie reindeer with Santa Claus!"
Another empty carton of eggnog hit him on the head. Tsubaki looked up, then back at Black Star, and figured she should not bothering questioning any more of the weird happenings of this evening. "In any case," she hesitantly began, "I think we had best get home. It is late, and we should accompany Maka back to her apartment."
"Cool! I can't wait to tell her and Soul about how I, Black Star, saved Christmas!" He dashed past her and up the steps
"Soul is not here."
Black Star stopped running for the steps.
"Neither is Liz. Evidently Lord Death sent them on a mission."
"Gah! Is this like a running theme this year, everyone being away for Christmas Eve?!"
"And maybe morning." She walked up to him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "From the sound of Kid's description, I am not sure that Soul and Liz will be back before Christmas."
At that moment, the clocks in Gallows Mansion began to chime-twelve tolls for midnight. Black Star gave a rueful smile. "I got Kid home in time for Christmas, at least."
Tsubaki struggled to smile. "Yes. Because I can always count on you to keep your promises."
He sighed. "Just wish you could count on me to predict everyone else's behavior." He placed a hand over hers on his shoulder. "Come on. I at least want to wish Kid and Patty a Merry Christmas."
"Okay," Tsubaki said. "Although she's a little preoccupied."
"Drunk on eggnog."
Tsubaki could not resist smirking. "She is not the only one."
"What makes you think I was drinking?"
"Three empty cartons outside, it seems," Kid said, meeting him at the steps. "Welcome home."
"Good to be back," Black Star said, fist-bumping both of Kid's extended hands.
"I trust your mission was successful?"
"Eight tiny reindeer circling the globe right now, boss!"
"Excellent work, assassin. I owe you."
"Yep, you still do," Black Star said, tossing back his head to laugh loudly, before stopping himself, and looking again at the gift under his arm. "But this is a start."
Kid glanced at it, a knowing smile appearing on his face. "I think you will like it. Kristopher tends to focus on gifts that are either entirely useful, or entirely useless."
"Man after my own heart." Black Star set the gift down, and wrapped his arms around Kid. "Merry Christmas, Kid."
"T-thank you for your gift to Kristopher and me, Black Star."
The mini-reaper blushed, as Tsubaki did, too, while Maka, emerging behind the two young men, covered her nose. "Jeez, Black Star, you smell like a barroom floor."
"How would you know that?"
"Have you met my father?" She thumbed back behind her into the mansion's living room. "And because Lord Death smells just as bad right now-I think that eggnog had alcohol in it."
"My, you are innocent," Kid said, raising an eyebrow. "Does not most eggnog?"
"Not the kind I drink!" she said defensively, holding up her hands. Looking back to see Patty asleep, then Kid studying her, and finally Black Star and Tsubaki smiling at her, Maka looked to her feet, as she walked down the steps.
"Um, Maka," Kid began. "It is rather late to go home when…" He let the sentence trail off, rather than remain her about her partner's absence. From what he heard from Maka and Tsubaki, he was not very pleased with his father either for sending one of his partners out on a Christmas Eve, now Christmas Day mission: it was bad enough to have only one of his weapons at his hand, but it was another that, for all the years he denied himself a Christmas Eve with his weapons, that his father would deprive him of his weapon's-his friend's-company.
And for some reason he could not quite define, he did not want Maka to feel that same guilt regarding her weapon's absence.
"If you would rather stay here overnight, I could make up a guest room for you."
Maka lifted her head, and looked over her shoulder. "I really appreciate that, Kid," she began, "but it's not like my home is far from here. And I already have two great guides here," she said, gesturing at Tsubaki and Black Star, his smile ever widening.
It faded, as she felt Kid, who had walked down the steps, grip her by both shoulders. She blinked her eyes, fighting back more tears.
"Yes," Kid said. "Merry Christmas, Maka."
Maka looked forward, sniffed loudly to hold back the tears, and choked out, "Merry Christmas to you, too."
Kid patted her arms, stood back, and held his hands behind his back, as Maka, ashamed, walked as quickly as she good to start her journey home.
Kid tried to maintain a happy face, despite recognizing how awful he made Maka feel. "To you as well, Tsubaki. Thank you for keeping Maka and Patty company."
"My pleasure," she said, bowing.
"What are those papers rolled up in your back pocket?" Kid asked, looking around her.
Tsubaki froze, then covered her behind. "Nothing!" She took a now grinning yet still tearful Maka and a very confused Black Star by their hands, and dragged them away. "Merry Christmas to all of you! Good night!"
Kid blinked, and half-heartedly waved. "Yes, good night," he whispered. He returned to the hallway, closed the doors behind him, and was about to lock them when he paused. He instead stood straighter, and marched back into the house.
Looking into the living room, he saw Patty, though curled by the fireplace, kicking a bit as she laid there, shivering a bit. He scowled. He continued walking up past the entrance to the living room, up the stairs, all the way down the end of the hall to his room, and shut the door. He let out a quiet curse, as he removed a blanket from his bed, opened his door, closed it behind him, and retraced his steps back to the living room. His frown persisting, he unfurled the blanket, letting it fall gently to the floor to drape over Patty. He then tucked its edges around her, as she began to stop shivering, a smile forming on her mouth.
"Thanks, Kid," she mumbled.
Taken aback, Kid's frown melted away, as he let out a soft laugh. He looked up at his still sleeping father, gave a nod to him that he knew he could not see, and walked to the lounge chair opposite him by the fireplace. From there, he could see down the hallway and to the front door. From there, he would stay awake-as a reaper, sleep was unnecessary, eggnog-induced blackouts excluded, evidently-until his missing partner would return home to them.
o-o-o
She was exhausted, having insisted repeatedly to Black Star and Tsubaki that she really was fine, that she did not need their company, that they should catch up on sleep, that Black Star needed a shower badly. Still, it was her talking out of her usual hardheadedness: as she entered their dark apartment, and did not see him in the living room, or the kitchen, or in his room, she felt a pain tug at her heart.
Then she heard water running in the bathroom sink.
She dashed to the bathroom door, and stood there, waiting for him to come out. She didn't know how she would respond to him first: Yell at him? Hug him? Maka Chop him? The last one seemed good-maybe just a light tap on the head, let him know he was wanted but that she also wanted to bash him harder.
The door slowly opened, and the light inside the bathroom revealed a shadow far too curvaceous to be Soul.
"Oh. Hi, Blair."
"Maka!" The cat-woman collected the young woman into her buxom chest, and squeezed tightly. "Merry Christmas!"
Upon hearing a muffled reply, Blair apologized, lowering Maka back to the floor. She then glanced around. "Say, where's Soul?"
"So, he hasn't come home?"
"No. Why, was he out?"
"On a mission."
"Is that the only reason?" she asked with a smirk, tilting her hips and crossing her arms.
Maka didn't answer, still looking at the floor.
Blair's ears drooped, as she struggled to think of something to say. "Maka," she began, forcing a smile, "why don't you join me? ChupaCabra has a night of fun! Drink specials, attractive visitors, karaoke! We even got a Santa this year."
Maka could not help glowering. "Sexy Santa with tear-away pants and a g-string?"
"Well, we try to cater to our audience." Blair almost sounded offended by Maka's judgmental tone.
Maka gave a good-natured chuckled. "It's fine, Blair. Go have a fun time. I'll...stay up a bit, in case he comes home before sunrise."
Blair pouted. "Will I at least see you for dinner at Kid's house?" She held her hands out in front of her, curled together, as she swiveled back and forth. "I promise to bring a tasty dish, not just a fish platter but maybe a dessert, too?"
Maka gave a beaming smile. "Yes, you'll see me there tomorrow! But please try to be on time-and no strippers this year."
"No fun!" Blair said, curling her finger to enchant her purse to levitate behind her as she walked to the door. "But seriously, if you need me, call. The new cashier is really good at staying sober."
"I'm amazed people go there on Christmas Day Morning."
"Lots of lonely hearts, doll-just want some conversation and drinks to drown the sorrows of another year."
"How...optimistic," Maka replied.
"I try!" Blair blew a kiss to her. As she began to shut the door, she poked her head back in. "Merry Christmas, again, Maka."
"Merry Christmas, Blair."
With that, Blair smiled, and slowly shut the door. Maka kept her smile on her face until she heard the click of the lock. She stood staring at that door for what felt like hours. She didn't feel her knees give out under her as her backside hit the couch cushions, as she still stared at that door. The smile persisted as she felt the tears fall onto her wrists. She covered her face and gave up any pretense of happiness.
o-o-o
WRITER'S NOTES: CHAPTER 13
Hi, Blair. Two more popular characters are introduced briefly in the last chapter.
I still do not like how I write Maka. I mean, her moment holding a kunai on Tsubaki is awesome, yet I have not written a scene with her really kicking ass. But there is some SoMa in the last one, which was a little easier to tackle, especially the parts where she and Soul bicker like an old married couple.
Rupert's method to ruin Black Star's credibility is stolen from The Simpsons Halloween episode: if you need to discredit a conspiracy theorist, cover them in alcohol. At least repeated cartons hitting Black Star hardly causes Tsubaki to react, so that was funny.
Liz wanting a hot tub in her soul space is stolen from a conversation with Professor Maka, which you can find at my Tumblr, user name soul-dwelling: /post/63896828010/