A/N PLEASE READ! IMPROTANT MESSAGE!im not really sure where this came from... read and reveiw it though please! ok so i know what youre thinking 'this is the same as Losing Stops here', but dont worry its not. this story is a retype of it. instead of just ME writing it Soul Eater Death Scythe(me) and Daphne AlIsOn are writing it together. she does the even chapters and i do the odd chapters. but i will keep 'Losing Stops Here' as that story and add on by myself. this one is for the both of us.
An upper cut to the lower jaw sent the white haired boy falling to the ground. After a whole half hour of fighting to stay up, he gave up and fell to the ground.
"Just give up Soul, you got nothing left." His opponent spit out the blood from his lip and chuckled, kicking Soul in the gut. Soul cringed and curled up in a ball. Soul lifted himself off the ground and put his forearms underneath him and put them into the mud. His face was bloody and he had cuts everywhere. He had a black eye, but he wasn't done with the fight yet. He pulled himself to his knee and put his other hand on the ground.
"I'm not done yet." He whispered to himself and kept his face down. The other man just chuckled and kicked some mud into Souls face.
"What are you going to do? Dance around me? Huh, twinkle toes? Play your little song on the piano?" what the man didn't expect was for Soul to twist upwards and position his fist just right to where it could of broken the man's jaw. Soul had his hand curled up into fists and he was panting standing in a defensive stance. The man was sent back, but the punch wasn't hard enough to where it did any harm. He smirked and walked back up to Soul. Soul had a frown plastered on his face and stood his ground. The man just kept smiling and punched Soul in the gut, causing him to grab his stomach. He, then, punched Soul in the face as he bent down. Soul was sent flying backwards to the ground. The man knocked him out cold. Soul lay there, in a lot of pain and bleeding. Ever since his mother left them he had nothing left. His father was an alcoholic and didn't give a shit about him. Soul has been getting into more and more fights every day. Each one… getting worse.
The man walked away, satisfied with his opponent and the money he just won. That's right, they fight for the money. More or less, Souls got enough money to last him a life time. His father doesn't know why Soul does it, but every time Soul wins a fight, it earns him double the money he bet. And for his father, that meant more alcohol. Soul probably gets into more fights with his father more that he does with the complete strangers out on the streets. Not physically, but verbally. They argue and yell, and then eventually, Souls the one who just walks away. His father says he gets that from his mother. He just gives up and walks away. But the only reason Souls fighting, is to prove that his father's wrong. Every fight he has been into, he's never walked away. He's gotten hurt, but never walked away.
Soul pulled himself into a sitting position and coughed. He wiped his face off with his sleeve, staining his shirt in the process. His mother always told him to never give up. Was he supposed to give up these fights? It's the only thing keeping him out of the streets, and yet, his father just encourages him. He grew up getting beat up. Out on the streets and in the alleys. But he's always seemed to get home in one piece. Sometimes, broken hands or arms, but still in one piece. And when his mother was alive, Soul tried to avoid the fights, but something always dragged towards them. He doesn't know what, but he ALWAYS seems to be the one ending up being punched into the corners. Every time. Curiosity maybe.
"I'm… not done yet! Get back here. You son of a…" Soul stood up and stumbled back to the ground immediately.
"Your still fighting it aren't you. Don't you know when to just give up? Is it that hard kid?" Soul spit on the man's shoes and chuckled.
"I don't know the meaning of giving up. Somebody always told me to never give up on something that's worth fighting for… and I'm trying to prove that point!" Soul yelled that last part as he lunged his self at the man, tackling him to the ground.
"And you know what? I think their right! What I fight for is none of your," Soul punched the man's jaw to the side, "Damn, "punched him the opposite way, "business!" and then Soul punched him one final time, before falling to the side of the man. Both boys lay there panting and bleeding from multiple wounds, but one of them had to get up in order to win. Soul tried, but failed falling back into the mud of the junk yard. The other man laughed and sat up smoothly.
"Just give it up kid. You life ain't worth it. How about you go home to your sorry half ass of a drunk father and fight him wont ya?" the man got to his feet and once more, kicked Soul in the side causing him to wince and curl up into a ball clutching his stomach.
"See ya out in the streets kid. And thanks for the money!" the man played with the stack of money in his hand as Soul watched him walk away. Soul closed his eyes and rolled over. He lost again. It's the seventh time this week he's lost the fights. And again, he goes home with no money for the house. He pushed his self up and sat in the mud. Elbows on his knees, looking down at the water that ran beneath his feet. Why? Why did his mother need to leave them alone? That man was right, he has to go back home with a sorry half assed father and get yelled at by him because he lost again. Maybe he just won't go home tonight. And then where will he stay? He can't go back to the detention hall. He's known all across town as the poorest kid in town. Everybody tries to offer him money, or clothes, but Soul simply denies it and walks on. What he would really like though… is an offer to sit down with them and have dinner. As a real family. He wants to see what it's like. But as many people would say, 'he's too dangerous to have around our house. Keep him away from your children!' kids up and down the street would stop and stare every time he walked by their house. Not because he's poor, but because he's know for fighting. Sometimes Soul would fight at the school yard and the kids would line up at the fence lines just to watch him get beat down. Some of them even run up to him and ask him if he's going to fight that day. But he just shakes them off and continues walking.
Blood and tear stained face; Soul slowly stood up and walked away from the fight scene. Like it never happened. But it did and he lost again. As he made his way out of the junk yard, he looked down a row of old parts of stuff like cars, robots and machines and thought he saw something move down there. Must have been some sort of animal. He shook his thoughts away and walked on. He must be losing his mind. Right now that's not important though, he needs to get home before his father notices he's out again. If he doesn't notice, he won't get yelled at for fighting again. He turned out of the gate and down the sidewalk in the pouring rain.
Soul stuffed his hands in his jean pockets and closed his eyes and leaned on the fence. He was tired, but he couldn't fall asleep. If he did, he probably wouldn't wake up. He opened his eyes and continued walking home. It was about 2:30 in the afternoon and his father would be sitting on the couch, probably passed out from drinking too much by now. Souls used to taking care of himself. His wounds, making his own food, and then again, he has to take care of his father too. He hates it, but he has to. If he doesn't, then who will? Maybe that's why his mother left them. Because she was tired of taking care of him. If he could, he would leave too. So… what's stopping him? Sure he's only 15, but where would he go? He could go back to the juvenile center. They would be glad to take him in. probably more than his father would like to stop drinking. Oh, wait, his father doesn't want to stop.
Soul walked up the steps to the apartment complex and opened the door. He then, walked up the stairs to his room number and looked through the eye hole. Like he said, his dad was on the couch. Soul slowly opened the door trying not to make a sound. He walked in and shut the door behind him. He had water dripping from his hair as he slipped his shoes off as quietly as he could. He set them down by the door and walked up the stairs to his bed room. Before he even got to his bedroom door, his father called him back down stairs. He closed his eyes and sighed.
"What? If I have to go down to the store you can forget it. I'm too tired right now." He didn't dare go down the steps. He didn't want his father to see him so messy. Covered in blood that he's not even sure is his and him all cut up.
"Get down here boy." Soul walked down to the middle step and frowned, looking down at his feet ashamed.
"Where've ya been?" his father asked slyly. Soul furred his eyebrows and clenched his fists.
"Why do you care? Your asleep half the time. You don't even know I'm awake in the morning!" Soul snapped throwing his self down, so he sat down on the step he was standing on.
"I am NOT asleep half the time. And don't talk to me like that! What did I tell you about talking to me like that?" Soul stood up.
"You've never told me anything! You were too busy shoving a bottle down your throat!" he hopped down stairs all the way and walked over to where he placed his shoes.
"… If you want to leave so badly just go!"
"I'll go! And I won't regret it!" Soul put his hoes on and was about to run out the front door.
"You go! Go ahead and leave! Leave just like your mother did! Where will you go?" his father stood up and let the bottle from his hands fall to the floor.
"I'll go and I won't ever look back!" Soul threw the door open and slammed it shut once he was outside in the hall way. When he slammed the door he looked to the left of him. There was a girl, around his age. She had blond ash hair and green eyes. She was holing a couple boxes, like she was just moving into the complex down the hall. He took a deep breath and walked past the girl and down the steps and out the door to the cold outside world. He sat down on the step outside and threw his hood over his head. Where was he supposed to go? He watched the road right in front of him, as cars drove past and splashed water up onto the side walk. Soul set his elbows on his knees and completely forgot about his wounds at that moment. He saw the moving truck to the right of him. So she was moving in down the hall. Well, she better get used to the yelling and screaming, because there's more people that live there who fight like that all the time. Soul saw another woman about his mothers age, walk down the steps past him go to the moving truck. He was assuming that was the girl's mother. The very same girl came jumping down the steps in the rain and ran towards her mother. They were talking and then the mother shook her head no.
"Maka go find someone to talk to. I have to finish unloading the furniture into the apartment. Look there's a boy over there. Why don't you go make a friend." Maka rolled her eyes and sighed.
"Fine." She pushed her hood down from her head and slowly walked up to Soul. She smiled a small smile and sat down on the opposite side of the stair case. He looked over at her and kept a straight face. Maka let out a breath and looked back towards the moving truck. Why was this boy all bloody? She took a deep breath and turned back towards Soul.
"H-hi. I'm Maka. Are you… okay? You're, uh…" she pointed towards her face to emphasize the cuts on his face.
"Yeah, I know. I… got into a fight earlier today." Soul shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and turned the other way.
"You have a name?" Maka tried starting a conversation with Soul. That wasn't going to well though. He was about to answer, but they heard a crash and something breaking upstairs, where Souls apartment was. He looked up behind him towards the window and shook his head. His dad was mad. He probably thought he actually left. Maka looked up at the window and she smiled disappeared.
"I-is that you're… dad?" she shrunk down her shoulders thinking that was too personal.
"Yeah. I'm not proud of it." A long moment of silence past as they watched her mother walk up and down the steps with lamps and boxes of books.
"Soul." That was all he said before looking up at the sky.
"Excuse me?" Maka looked at him confused.
"My names Soul. Soul… eater." He just changed his last name to what he always wanted it to be. Eater. Soul Eater. Now it doesn't sound too fancy, or to poor. Instead of Soul Evans, it's Soul Eater.
"Soul Eater…" Maka repeated quietly, "Cool. Listen, I have to go unpack my stuff. I'll… see you later I guess." She got up and waved goodbye as she walked through the entry door.
"Maka…" Soul smiled to himself. That was a pretty name…