Revealing the Truth

Soul Eater Fanfic: SoulMaka

From There to Here: Chapter 2
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By the time Soul made it home, Wes had finished his practicing and the manor was relatively quiet. Then his mother came out to the entrance way in her usual elegant clothing.

"Oh Soul, how many times do I have to tell you not to go out looking like a vagrant off the street?"

"Huh?" Soul looked down at himself and saw that he was dressed in his jeans and a messily buttoned up shirt that looked like it was lightly stained by some cherry juice.

"Oh, sorry mom," Though he wasn't feeling sorry at all. Her idea of proper clothing was at the very least casual slacks and a nice button up shirt. Not comfortable, or cool at all.

"Hey mom........."

"Oh now where is your father? We are supposed to be leaving soon."

Soul sighed and started walking up the achingly long staircase towards his room. He knew he'd never get a chance to tell her about what had happened to him so why bother. And obviously he'd never get anything from his father either since he and his mother were supposed to be heading out tonight.

That left only one person, though it galled him to do it.

Wes wasn't in his room, or practicing anymore, so that left one place; the tree. Wes had a favorite spot he liked to go and read and to be alone. He didn't seem to mind Soul coming to see him; at least he wasn't irritated when Soul found him there.

Soul went out to the back and proceeded through the maze like gardens that extended far beyond the mansion. What was the point of all this room behind the house? Hardly anyone came back here. When there were lawn parties, the guests stayed close to the house, and his parents never went out to the gardens. The only person who really came out here was Wes, and he came to be at the tree.

After the five minute walk, Soul saw Wes sitting at the base of the red maple tree reading a book. He didn't seem to notice Soul till he was practically on top of him. "Hi Soul, this is rare. You don't usually come out here to visit me."

"Hmm, I discovered something today, I wanted to ask you about it."

"Ok, what is it?"

Soul took his hands out of his pockets and looked at them. Now how did he do that again? He probably should have tried to figure it out before showing his brother. Maybe he had to be in a dangerous position for him to change. He had wished for weapons right before his arms changed. Maybe that was it, he wished for weapons. And nothing happened.

"Well? What is it?"

Damn, he had to do something quick; he was looking like a fool. He imagined the red and black curved blades that he had seen before, and then his arms kind of wavered a little, then slid into the scythe like blades he remembered.

"Interesting, you have weapon blood."

"But how? If I remember correctly, being a weapon is passed down from parent to children isn't it?"

"Yes it is, and no one in our family has ever been a weapon. I wonder why that is. Have you showed our parents yet?"

"No, they seem to be too busy right now."

"Yes, they're going to a party tonight, they should be leaving soon if they haven't already."

"That's what I gathered when mom asked where dad was."

"Yeah, so it'll probably be tomorrow before you'll be able to talk to them at the earliest."

"Yeah." Soul looked at the blades again and then imagined his hands and they changed back. Hmm, he was starting to get the hang of changing.

Wes smiled, "Granny would be surprised to learn of you being a weapon."

Soul cracked a smile, "Heh, that's true."

His Granny had been a sweet old lady, even though she was a bit cranky. She would go on and on about how all the important families in the world had at least one weapon in their family history, except the Evans family. It got rather irritating after a while, but other than that she was very well loved by everyone in the family.

"Well, what do you think is going to happen now?" Soul asked Wes.

"You'll probably be sent to the DWMA. That's the only place for weapons to go to learn."

Soul sat down in front of Wes at that statement.

That's very true; there really was only one place for him to go. But the thought didn't bother him at all. He hated everything here, and everything his family represented. His parents were snobs who looked down on him not only because his inferior abilities compared to Wes, but also because of his nonchalant attitude. He'd rather be out playing with some friends then practicing his piano. He was already good enough at it to satisfy himself, and if that wasn't enough for them, well too bad.

Wes didn't seem to look down on him, and even was nice to him. But he still hated how Wes' abilities had turned his parents against him.  He wasn't able to do anything good enough to satisfy them because they were always comparing his results with Wes', and they never were as good.

Yes, he liked the idea of going to Death Valley very much.

Heh, he wondered how his parents will react.
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"No, absolutely not. You are not going to leave this house for some ridiculous reason like that. Even though you are a weapon, that won't interfere with your career as a musician."

He should have known his mother would react that way. To her, the only important thing in life was one's career. She judged others by what they did for a living. And someone who was a weapon definitely wouldn't meet her standards.  And he knew his dad would go with whatever his mother decided.

"Mom, you know I'm never going to be a great musician like Wes, why make me do something I'm never going to be good at?"

"You're not as good as Wes because you don't put everything into it. I know your abilities are good enough to match Wes. You just need to apply yourself."

"But the way you make me do it has taken any fun that was in it in the first place."

"It's not about being fun, it's about being the best."

"And that's the problem, I don't want to be the best. Not at music. I don't know what I want to do really, but I know it isn't music."

"That's what the family is. We are musicians. It would practically be sacrilege for you to do anything else."

"Well then I'm going to be profane and not be a musician. I want to go to the DWMA and make a name for myself not based on this family."

"No you will not. You are going to stay here and train harder."

"To hell with that, I'm leaving." And with that statement Soul got up and marched up the stairs towards his room.

"Soul, get back here. We're not finished."

Soul called over his shoulder, "Oh yes we are. I'm leaving and that's that." He ran the rest of the way to his room thinking his parents will try to stop him physically.

When he got to his room he pulled out a duffel bag and started throwing clothes into it. Now he's really done it. Not only did he say he was going to be leaving, but he also swore in front of his mother. She didn't even think shut up was proper to say.  If he chickened out about going, there's no telling what trouble he'd be in.

After packing several shirts and pants and other essentials, he went to the closet and pulled down the box that was hidden behind a guitar that was up there. He opened the box and pulled out the wads of money he had stashed in it. His parents wanted him to learn how to spend money early, so they gave him an allowance every week. But the stuff that he wanted he knew his parents would never let him have. So he had made only one big purchase, and then saved the rest for when he could get them.

He stuffed the money into his pocket, put on a black jacket, then left his room. He knew his parents were waiting for him at the front so they could stop him. So he left the house through the servant's quarters, the way his mother never even knew how to get out because she believed that servants should be kept separate.

After walking a couple blocks he noticed the evening air smelled different. He wasn't sure on what it was, it wasn't any kind of specific smell that he could detect, but he knew it was different.

He walked to the garage that he rented a spot for and found his motorcycle there. He smiled as he saw the sleek red color of it with a dual seat. When he saw it the first time, he couldn't resist. Even though his mother abhorred motorcycles, he just had to have it. So his family didn't know he had it.

But as he approached it, he saw that it wasn't quite true. Wes was leaning against the pillar that was next to it.

"Are you here to bring me back Wes?"

"No, I knew how things would work out when you told our parents and how you would react, so I came out here so that I would at least get to say goodbye to my only brother."

"Hmph, well bye then." Soul sat on his motorcycle and put the key in the ignition.

"Ah, c'mon. You don't have a better way to say goodbye than that?"

"Not really, no."

"Heh, well I guess that's like you too. Well, goodbye Soul, I hope you do well and have a good time at the DWMA."

"Thanks Wes, I'll see ya later."

With that Soul kicked the bike into action and drove off. As he left the city, he knew what it was that made the air smell different.

It was freedom.