My first ever Soul Eater fanfic! *smiles and waves shyly* Hiya! Wazzup! I'm the Rioter! Welcome to my fanfic, KiMa is shipped here! Not your thing? Whoopsies!
Disclaimer: I don't own Soul Eater. High school AU. All characters are around the ages of 16-17.
As I walked up to the school, I dug my hands deeper into their pockets, feeling the material of my worn gloves pull against my fingers. The long trench coat that adorned my slim figure, my long ash-blonde hair falling over my back in symmetrical waves, almost touching the small of my back. The bottoms of my Docs slapped against the concrete with an unforgiving sound as I walked up the steps to my school.
Students around me buzzed with conversation and giggling arose from several groups of girls, pointing and staring at random people. My head was down, but not in shame. I had achieved quite a rep at this old school, getting in fights and putting people in their place.
I didn't tolerate shit from anyone, and they knew it.
"Hey, BlackStar." I heard the low rumble of the infamous Soul 'Eater' Evans as he greeted his best friend BlackStar, champion fighter at our school. Undefeated except for one match after school.
That match would be his and mine, of course.
Brushing past them, I found my locker and opened it with ease, grabbing my bag that I had left in here from the last year, since we kept out lockers for all four years until we graduated. It was simple, compact, and black. The strap was at full length and rested comfortably on my shoulder, like it belonged there.
"YAHOO!" BlackStar's voice rang throughout the halls, resounding and echoing, making his voice seem godlike, to most. To me it was just plain annoying.
"BlackStar, please stop." The calm voice of Tsubaki reached my ears next, trying to calm the small spitfire down as he jumped around.
I rolled my eyes, walking down the hall away from them, every student in the vicinity giving me a wide berth. Good, stay away from me. I don't wanna be here anyways. Stupid Papa made me come to this school. Trying to 'show his love for his beloved Maka'. I snarled at anyone who changed a glance in my direction, lifting my head and fixing them with a cold green-eyed gaze, pinning them to the spot for a few glorious seconds. It's not like I had always been this way. I used to be popular, well-liked by the student body. That is until…he left. Three years ago. I couldn't even think of his name, it still to this day caused my heart to clench and beat rapidly. My soul ached to be with his again, to complete the puzzle and make me whole.
After he had left, my Papa had started drinking and abusing me. My back was criss-crossed with belt lashes, my stomach had a scar with the same curve as the crescent moon starting at my hip, arching up just under my ribs before joining with the other hip, creating the perfect half-circle. My hands had old cigarette butt burns and slashes from broken glass bits decorating the skin.
Amongst my back were tattoos, given to me by one of my friends Kilik. He was a young aspiring tattoo artist, and I let him practice his needle-work on my back. I had to admit, for being self-taught he was incredible. He was the only person I could stand to be around, everyone else getting under my skin. Now I lived with him in his apartment, drawing designs for him to try out with needles. We worked together and I ached to help him with his dream, since he was the only person I cared for.
As I walked into class, I smirked at Stein who nodded back to me, a wild yet restricted look in his eyes. He was my favorite teacher, being my father's former best friend, so we had common ground where Spirit was concerned.
He was a bit of a freak, like me.
I was staring down at my books, reading some book I didn't bother to touch over the summer, when whispering and murmuring erupted over the classroom. I didn't look up, knowing it was probably some girl that had gotten breasts over the summer of some guy that had become extremely hot and had a makeover. That shit happened way too often here.
Boy, could I have been anymore wrong.
Kilik beside me nudged my arm, making me shift but not look up. He did it again.
"What, Kilik?" I said annoyed, looking up at him.
"Um, I wouldn't look at the teacher's desk if I was you, Albarn." He muttered, a warring to his voice.
"What do you-?" I was cut off from my own sentence by my sudden inability to think. There, standing at the desk, was Him. The one who had left me. The one who had always promised would come back, who wrote to me occasionally and would haunt my dreams. The one who had taken my heart and refused to give it back.
Death the Kid.
His hair was longer, shaggier. The white stripes were more faded but still there. He had gotten taller, much taller by the looks of things, probably pushing 6 foot while I remained almost 5 feet 4 inches. His shoulders now broad and strong, a wide chest and trimmed waist, making a triangle to his hips. His legs now longer than ever, now he stood with both hands in his pockets. Those golden eyes that pierced my soul flashed with a new-found confidence, yet remained gentle.
"Kid." I whispered, standing up. Everyone in the classroom was watching the spectacle, knowing of our previous affiliations with one another and how his leave affected me.
Then those eyes met mine, gold on green. My heart almost stopped and I gripped the table for support. Those eyes held love and affection in them, regarding my appearance with nothing but the utmost respect and devotion. 'Oh how I missed those eyes.'
"My Maka." His voice rumbled, deep and velvety smooth. He took a step towards me and raced to meet him, wrapping my arms around his waist as the dam broke, tears soaking his jacket and shirt. I knew he didn't mind, and his arms wrapped around my back, his lips caressed the top of my head as the silent sobs continued, all of my resolve breaking. My hands held onto him like a vice and wouldn't let go. Thoughts raced in my head, 'Will he still love me after I've changed? What if he found someone else? Oh, thank god my tattoos are symmetrical! Will he care that I have them?'
All of my doubts ceased when he pressed his lips to mine, in front of everyone - including Stein, luckily he knew of my situation and knew I needed this. Kid rested his head against mine, his nose rubbing mine ever-so-gently.
'He was home.'
Thank you for reading! Please be kind, this is only the first chapter! R&R!