A/N: Hi guys! I know it's been a while, but I just kept editing and editing and I still don't particularly think this one is my best. Still, it just needs to get out of the way so I may continue to get back into my updating cycle. I'm sorry this took so long! I feel terrible!

As always, the rest of the A/N is at the end. Enjoy!

Black*Star #3: Jealousy

I need your grace to remind me

To find my own

~Chasing Cars; Snow Patrol

Jealousy:

It's too ugly a word to describe how he feels toward his friends. He feels so protective of them; that word just doesn't seem to fit.

But that's exactly what it is. Jealousy.

Tsubaki knows that Black*Star would never in a million years begin to admit, or even mention the possibility, that he's jealous of anyone, much less his closest friends. She also knows that it's often a driving force in his life. She knows so much about him, but it's still only the basics.

He's jealous of Maka, for the loving family she has. His mind won't even begin to wrap around why she can't stand such an adoring father. He doesn't understand why, sometimes, a postcard isn't enough; that she needs more from her mother.

It's not just that. I don't get how she can play favorites. Isn't it enough to have two parents? It would be enough, for me, to have one! Why can't she just put up with her father's trips to Chupacabra's and enjoy the family that lives in her very school? Was I more ungrateful? Is that why God took away my parents?

"Black*Star, look! I got another postcard from Mama!" He turns to see his friend running up to him, waving a thick rectangle of paper as she comes.

"Maka! How's my little girl today? I—" but Maka brushes past her father without a second glance.

The man breaks down, huddling in a corner and moaning about the daughter who refuses to acknowledge his existence. With a roll of his eyes, Sid leaves the young trainee to bring Spirit back to his senses.

Black*Star breaks another one of the boards the young teacher had set up with a bit more ferocity than necessary.

"Really? What's it say?"

"She's doing good and she loves me."

KRACK! Black*Star breaks another board. He's never had someone tell him they love him. He doesn't need that, though; a star as big as him can't be bogged down with sappy things like that!

Maka's eyes light up with sudden inspiration.

"Hey, do you know kajukenbo form three?" Black*Star looks at her skeptically.

"Yeah. I've know it for a long time."

"Great! 'Cuz I just learned it. Wanna practice all the ones up to three with me?"

"Sure, but there's no way you'll be able to keep up with a god like me." There is a glint in Maka's eyes as he issues the challenge.

"We'll see."

They fly through the forms, faster than either has ever done them before, and when they finish seconds later, Spirit is there praising his daughter with every compliment and kind word under the chortling sun.

Sid awkwardly claps Black*Star on the back, not quite knowing what to say but can see from the way Spirit's acting that he ought to do something for the boy.

Maka's expression is sour, though.

"If Mama were still here, she could've seen that."

But you still get postcards, don't you? And your papa's right there, Black*Star can't help but think bitterly.

He's jealous of Kid, because he was friends with Maka first. He doesn't mind Kid's joining in, but the young Reaper resonates better with Maka than he does. He doesn't understand why Kid wasn't content to live in his mansion with the two lovely demon pistols catering to his every whim and his obsession with symmetry.

Yeah, what's up with the symmetry thing? Trying to make the world perfect and orderly? Ha! How about settling for not killing an infant's entire clan, leaving the child to grow up as the last member, completely despised? Stupid Death Gods think they know best, do they? Why don't they see what's right in front of their faces? All they can do is steal friends and family!

Stein watches as, again and again, Kid and Maka's souls reject Black*Star's. He knows the boy, has heard enough stories about him from the staff that raised him, to know that this can only damage his soul. So he calls a break.

Once he comes back, though, things have only gotten worse. Maka has asked to exclude Black*Star from their resonance team, and the young assassin called her out on it. It has escalated to the point that Maka has run away, off to the roof of the school to get away from the lesson. Black*Star stands by, overwhelmed in envy for his best friends—the people in whose hands he'd place his soul in an instant, without hesitation.

Tsubaki whacks him lightly in the back of his head to bring him back to his senses. She hates seeing him like this.

"Sorry." Black*Star winces as he recognizes his misguided feelings. "Will you help me?"

And Tsubaki does, because she knows her meister well enough to know that sometimes, he just can't help it. He feels forgotten by God and abandoned by his friends. This is why he wants to surpass God.

He's jealous of the demon pistols, Liz and Patti, for being delivered from their nightmare without having to do anything more than survive long enough for their knight in shining armor to show up. Why did he have to work for it when they just mugged every money-holding fool who showed his face too close to their corner?

Why did I have to be watched so closely for signs of kishin-type inclinations when they waltzed right into a Grim Reaper's house after a life of crime? So much supervision and so many tests on my soul to make sure it was still blue and healthy, not red and scaly. Why did God choose them and not me? I'm stronger, I'm better! Does God not use any form of logic?

Black*Star groans into the darkness around him, remembering the events from earlier that day. He'd lost control of himself, the madness overtaking him, but no one had been surprised.

"Sid…Those eyes," Nygus had muttered, and Sid had nodded and said,

"I know."

They had both been expecting it. Why? Just because of the family he can't even remember?

He can hear the Thompsons talking in low voices with Tsubaki right outside the door. They're worried about him, and they have the time to come and check up on him because Kid is busy fixing the roof.

None of them know how it feels! ARGH! All the muscles that he's so carefully relaxed clench almost painfully in that one moment, but he doesn't care. He just hates how everyone was right. How they knew he would be the problem, and he was, even though he'd been so determined not to be.

Soft hands apply themselves to a push-pull motion on his back, kneading it until it begins to relax.

"It's going to be okay, Black*Star. I believe in you," his weapon whispers. He allows himself to relax. Maybe she's right.

He's jealous of Soul Eater, his best friend. He was born into a family that gave him all the piano lessons he could want, threw expensive parties and restaurants at him constantly. He was taught how to mingle and work the formal gatherings, but he throws all that away to sulk in a corner and be antisocial. He's musically talented and gets along with everyone.

I just never learned how to act at those formal things. I want to know, but it isn't like I'm going to ask. Soul just sits far away, avoiding the whole scene. Why would you do that if you know how to act? If you know that people will love your "cool," go-with-the-flow attitude, why wouldn't you take advantage of that? Why wasn't that knowledge given to someone who would actually take advantage of it? I would. Why didn't God give that know-how to ME?

"Here we go again." Maka rolls her eyes as Black*Star attacks the food table.

"Black*Star…Please…." Tsubaki motions for him to calm down. He doesn't listen, though. He's going to rock this party. He's going to be the star!

But just as he's thinking he's getting the hang of this thing, Soul comes walking in from the balcony where he's been hiding.

"Dude, not cool," and saunters away to look for a bathroom.

Along the way, a gaggle of girls coo over him behind his back. The teachers nod appreciatively and even his own friends are watching as the white-haired scythe walks away.

"I'll never understand why he doesn't hang around and have fun." Liz comments. Patty laughs and Maka shrugs, but Tsubaki watches her meister.

Only she notices the pause in antics, the frustrated and envious glint in his eyes before he starts right back up where he left off. And she's the only one to recognize the lack of life behind his actions the rest of the night.

And he's jealous of Tsubaki, who's more than his best friend, she's his weapon partner. She knows that he's jealous. He's jealous that she still has a great father who is willing to host the two of them whenever they make a visit to Japan. He wishes he had a father who would pay the rent for the small house they live in. He's embarrassed that Tsubaki and her family provide everything for the two of them.

NO! I can't be jealous of Tsubaki! Jealousy implies that I want to have things that she has instead of letting her have them. I'm glad she's grown up happily, really!

But sometimes I wish that I had a life like Tsubaki's, without exchanging her happiness for mine. I wish I came from a family that was influential not through death and terror, but through noble blood. And I suppose it would have been nice to have a brother, but I wouldn't want to have to kill him. I would have if I had to, though. I could deal with that if that's what it took to have a family!

And I want to provide sometimes for us. But my wallet's always the empty one, because all the jobs I try to take on are just too small to hold a big guy like me. All I can do is kill kishin eggs and feed Tsubaki their souls, but all the missions we sign up for are way too small to handle me!

Black*Star and Tsubaki were coming back from yet another failed mission. And while Black*Star was prancing around as though his "show" had been a huge success, his weapon felt terribly depressed. At this rate, she was never going to become a Death Scythe.

"Hey, Tsubaki, what did you think of my performance? Wasn't it awesome?" She puts on her face, smiles nicely for him, and pretends to be proud.

"Yes, of course."

"Yeah, that's right! Of course it was; 'cuz it always is! NYA HA HA!" he settles back into quiet for a few struts, then…

"Seriously, Tsubaki. I'm gonna make you a Death Scythe, okay?" She smiles again, but it still doesn't reach her eyes.

"I know!" He walks ahead to hide his face from her. Only his weapon would be able to bring down his shinning attitude, he decides. He walks along, decidedly more resentful than he's been in a long time.

"Hey, Black*Star."

He turns, only to catch a snowball in the face.

"Wha?" He whips his head back and forth, simultaneously looking for the enemy and checking to make sure Tsubaki's okay, because she is the number one priority.

But when he does he only finds a black-haired girl with a high ponytail stifling laughter behind her hand.

And then he figures it out. It was her.

"Hey!" He makes his own snowballs at godly speed and chucks them at her.

They return home sopping wet, freezing cold, and totally reconciled.

I guess what I'm saying is I wish….I wish…

I wish God had remembered me.

So, that's it guys. Let me know what you thought! Next one will be coming out next week, no question asked, debates suggested, or excuses made. Promise! It's all ready to go!

I'll see y'all then!

~Rhythm Weaver~