Yay, new miniseries! XD I'm calling it Savior, for lack of a better title (damn brain at 11:30pm...) and each one will be about either Kid saving each team member/the first time they meet/both, like in this story.

Hope you likey~

Savior: Soul

The young Soul Evans pouted and sulked, swinging his feet back and forth on a park bench. The weather in Death City was mild, but a little foggy at the moment. It only served to anger him more, reminding him of the main reason for his gloom - his parents. And his brother, for that matter. The Evans family had been called to Death City to perform for a large party that the Grim Reaper was holding, a celebration of some stupid holiday the albino really didn't care for. He'd played spectacularly, performing with a complicated piano piece that was well above his age level, and had only faltered on one chord. Naturally, it was enough.

Wes always gets the praise, the white-haired boy grumbled inwardly. He never messes up. I do the same thing, different instrument, and get one note wrong and I get locked in the piano room for two days. It was so unfair, that his parents (mother in particular) forced him to perfect everything. Even if he did perform perfectly, Wes would still get all the glory.

Wrapped in his thoughts, Soul failed to notice the slight burst of manic laughter emanating from the alley between two buildings behind him. He did notice, however, when a large butcher knife came sailing through the air and imbedded itself in the ground next to his left foot.

"Aww, I missed," a voice hissed.

Scrambling to his feet, the boy narrowed his crimson eyes and tried not to show fear. "Who the hell're you?!"

Another burst of cackling laughter. "Who am I? I am your doom. I am Eater. I will swallow your soul and become more powerful! That's who I am, little boy."

Gulping, Soul backed up a little and tripped over a tree root. Typical. Even when it's a freaking monster attacking me, I get the most cliche bad luck, he thought bitterly. Scooting backwards, his red eyes widened as the man with probably a dozen butcher knives STICKING OUT OF HIS ARMS advanced with a sharp-toothed grin. Rather like his own, Soul supposed, but now was not the time to be comparing teeth length.

"Stay away from him."

Both heads snapped around to find the source of this new voice. It was calm and smooth, yet echoing with something deadly. Soul almost groaned out loud. Another monster? He definitely had the worst luck in the world.

But no, it looked to be... a boy, around the same age as Soul, with jet-black hair and scary golden eyes; plus the strangest white stripes running around exactly half of his hair. The monster hissed.

"Reaper."

Soul's jaw dropped. The Grim Reaper? No, it couldn't be. This guy was way too small and... human. The Reaper he'd seen at the party up the hill at the school was spiky and tall, with a weird white mask. Maybe this was him without the mask and cloak on? Was Death really a little kid, no older than eight or nine?

The albino never got an answer, because the Reaper leapt forward and punched the monster on the jaw squarely. A fight started, almost literally above Soul's head, with the monster throwing wild swings in a rage and Shinigami dodging them all neatly, ducking the blades with superhuman speed and avoiding his fists with precision, all while delivering his own blows. Soul was, to put it the way his grandfather would have, flabbergasted.

After almost five full minutes of this display, the young pianist was jolted out of his daze by a sharp jab, courtesy of his savior's left heel. "Get up!" the Reaper reprimanded. "Get out of here. I can handle him - run away as fast as you can!"

Soul didn't need to be told twice. He scrambled to his feet and bolted, cursing inwardly at - of all the things - the amount of dust that was smeared on his pant legs. Without looking back (aside from one small glance, that offered him only a puzzling sight he later dismissed), he sprinted through the trees he'd escaped to earlier and up the hill to the Academy. Pausing outside the doors to catch his breath and wipe his dress pants mostly clean of dust and dirt, he smoothed his spiky white locks and entered the party once again, slipping through the crowd surreptitiously.

"Where've you been?" A voice startled him and he jumped, whipping around to see it was just Wes. Yeah. Just the great and almighty Wes.

"Nowhere," he lied easily.

Raising an eyebrow, Wes scrutinized his younger sibling. Soul fidgeted a little uncomfortably. "Okay... by the way, you've got a little dirt on your cheek." He tapped the skin by his own mouth. "Mother's going to have a field day with you."

The younger grimaced, then his eyes widened in shock as he caught sight of something over Wes' shoulder - the Grim Reaper, back in his cloak and mask, chatting happily with a dark-skinned man with cornrows. Trying to look casual, the boy sidled up to the two and bowed his head to Lord Death. "Thanks," he said awkwardly.

Lord Death tilted his head to the side and asked in a squeaky voice that sounded nothing like it had before, "What for?"

"For saving me from that monster earlier," Soul replied, uncomfortable.

"Hmm~? I don't remember any monster..." the Reaper mused.

"But it must be you." Getting a little confused, the ablino narrowed his eyes and tried to explain without sounding like he was protesting. "When the monster saw you, he said 'Reaper'. And you were a boy, you looked my age, and you had black hair with white stripes..."

Lord Death burst out laughing. "Oh-ho-ho, and I took down this monster?"

"Well... I think so," Soul furrowed his brow, throroughly puzzled. "I looked back and I thought I saw you holding a floating red blob, and smiling, and there were creepy skulls floating around your hands..."

"Ah, yes. Sorry. I do have a terrible memory, and it's rather easy to defeat monsters when you're as powerful as I am." The Reaper winked and patted him on the head. "Your piano playing was truly inspiring. Come back next year?"

The white-haired boy was shocked. "Uh... sure." Then he turned and slowly made his way back through the crowd.

"What was that about?" Wes laughed. "The Grim Reaper seemed to be messing with you."

"He wasn't," Soul defended. "I was just... asking him something. He wants us to come back next year, by the way."

Wes turned with a pat on his brother's head. "I'll tell Mother he said so. Clean your face."

Six years later, Soul had joined the academy and met up with his partner, Maka. The one thing he could recall was meeting a Kishin egg that called himself 'Eater'. Ironically, he renamed himself to match. He'd forgotten all about the night he met the Reaper. That is, until the day he and his best friend BlackStar challenged the new kid, ironically named Kid, to a duel. It was in the split second he'd watched, horrified, as the cannons slammed together with skulls dancing around them that he'd realized why Lord Death had laughed six years ago. It hadn't been the Reaper - it had been his son.

And so, three days later, when Kid's hair had regrown and he rejoined the class for a more proper first day, Soul had been the one to invite him and his partners to their table for lunch. Maka had quirked an eyebrow, but no-one had protested (save BlackStar, but they ignored him). As they were eating, Kid made a comment about Kishin eggs with butcher knives sticking out of their arms, then smirked at Soul.

"Oh, shut up," the weapon grumbled. "I didn't know I was a weapon. Lay off."

"I never got any thanks," Kid pointed out, "and my father told me you gave him all the credit."

"I didn't know any better!" Soul protested. "I thought it was you."

Kid burst out laughing. "You thought that under his cloak my father looked like an eight-year-old child."

Soul flushed. "I was eight too, you know."

"What on Earth are you two talking about?" Maka questioned.

"Oh, the time I saved Soul when we were both about eight," Kid grinned. "A perfect age to meet at, might I add."

BlackStar laughed uproariously. "Dude, you got saved by Kid when you were eight? When he was eight? So, Kid fought a Kishin egg when he was eight by himself and won."

"Technically I first defeated one when I was about six," the young reaper added helpfully.

Rolling his eyes at his friends, Soul continued to argue that it wasn't his fault. However, at the end of lunch while everyone else was streaming out to go to class, the weapon caught Kid's eye and mouthed a quick 'thank you'.

Cool enough for you? ;D Just kidding. See ya next time~!

Kat