Not Cool, Bro~Soul x Reader!

The Witch's Return

A/N: I don't own Soul Eater. The show and its characters all belong to... um... crap. Heheh, um... I forgot his name.
Maka: Makaaa...
Me: *sweatdrops* Oh fudgeballs.
Maka: CHOP! Baka, his name is Atsushi Ökubo!
Me: Well how was I supposed to know?!?! *whimpers*

This chapter is dedicated to @GoldenRoseLove for being the first person EVER to vote for this story... or any of my stories, actually. Thank you so much!

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"Hey, is she up yet?" The light behind your eyelids flickers as something moves towards you. A pointed finger nudges your cheek, and you resist the impulse to bite it off.
"Nope, still out like a light." The poking continues.
Poke. They'd better stop.
Poke. Okay, now it's getting annoying.
... Poke. Screw it.
You chomp your teeth down on the pesky finger.
"....... AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!" A few chairs grate against the floor and something knocks you to the ground. The dude you bit is screaming his head off, clutching his now-bleeding and slightly crushed finger.
"What the hell!? Are you insane?" A rough hand yanks you up by the collar, momentarily choking you. It slams you into a creaky wooden chair.
"She's a feisty one, eh, Avery?" says a small ravenette. What was his name again... Donald?
The red-head clutches his poor, wounded hand, glaring daggers at the boy, who fiddles with a pair of bubbling test tubes.
"Ah, shut it, will ya? It didn't hurt that bad." Donald scoffs.
"Oh whatever. Don't tell me you just had a random urge to start screaming like a girl and whimpering like a little baby. Jeez. I can't believe Kurami-sama put a wimp like you in charge, of all people."
Avery flashes an enraged glare towards Donald, tossing a few well-chosen cusswords his way.
While the two idiots are distracted with their bickering, you struggle against the ropes digging into your wrists. There are also a few binding your legs, ankles, and shoulders. They can all be easily done away with, especially since you're a weapon. Didn't anyone ever tell these idiots never to tie up a person with blades at their disposal?
"If you call me a nerd one more time, I'm telling Kurami-sama to ban you from this mission!"  Donald suddenly bursts. You freeze. Kurami? No... not that Kurami. It must be another one.
"...ey. Hey. Hey!!!" Chase, the green-haired boxer, snaps his fingers under your nose. You glare at him.
"Move your fingers if you don't wanna end up like him." You nod in the red-head's direction, who looks angry, yet utterly defeated. He cowers against the wall when he realizes you're talking about him. Tch, wimp.
"Okay, I'm sick of this," you huff. "What exactly do you guys want with me? I'm broke, so you can't rob me. And who is this... K-Kurami person you keep going on about?" Silently, you curse yourself for stuttering. It's not her, idiot! It's not her!
"Oh, we aren't here to rob you. In fact, we won't take anything from you until our leader is finished with you," Donald says. You look up into his face, noticing the lust and desire clouding his eyes. You lean back as far as you can in your chair.
"Mm-hm. Okay, that's not wierd at all. In any case, I don't really care what you and your leader want with me. I'm leaving."
The three boys look at you in confusion.
"Um..." Avery begins. "How do you plan to do that? You're tied to a chair." Donald frowns, thinking, and then his face lights up, hearts dancing in his eyes.
"Maybe [Name]-chan has a secret technique for escaping! That would be so cool!" he gushes. Avery clasps his hands to his blushing face, hearts also dancing in his eyes.
"Or maybe she's going to strip out of her clothes so the ropes are loose enough to slip out of. Oooh, and then we get to see her half-naked!"
Your eye twitches, and Donald glares at the drooling red-head, noticing your reaction.
"Tch, idiot. She wouldn't do that if you were here. You're probably the reason she hasn't done that already. She wouldn't like a wierd pervert like you staring at her all night," he scoffs. Um,not exactly what I was thinking, but whatever, you think. Avery shoots him an evil smirk.
"So you admit my theory is better than yours, eh? That's not like you, Donald my friend." Donald's face begins to burn bright red.
"I would never admit anything of the sort. My theories are always correct," he pouts indignantly. You roll your eyes as Avery taunts him, while Donald starts to throw a raging hissy fit. You look at Chase, whose eye is also twitching.
"They always like this?" you mutter. He nods, his eye still twitching. You shrug.
Well, I'm not sticking around any longer than I need to. Time to go.
You twist your arms so the outside of your wrists are against the ropes, and focus on transforming them into blades.
This is too easy.
Chase stalks over to separate the two bickering fanboys, making it even easier for you to escape. You smirk as the ropes come undone around your arms and shoulders, leaning down to slice through the ropes on your legs. Chase has now joined the fight, keeping the two idiots' backs turned so they don't see you freeing yourself. You realize how odd it seems that Chase, being taller than the two arguing pipsqueaks, hasn't noticed you escaping yet. It's almost like he's helping you get away. Nah, that can't be right. You focus on sawing through the ropes as quickly as possible.
"H-hey, um... guys? Avery stutters. Donald looks away from Chase , frustrated.
"What, idiot?" he growls. Avery points at you.
"She's escaping!" he shrieks. You panic, slicing through the last few threads and making a break for the stairs to your left. Avery skids to a stop in front of you, leaning an arm against the doorway.
"You're not going anywhere, girlie," he says seductively, obviously trying way too hard to look sexy. You roll your eyes at his attempt to flirt and swing your arm at him, scraping his cheek with your blade-hand. He flips to the side as you swing, pivoting around so that he's suddenly behind you. You jerk up an elbow, catching him in the nose and sending him flying backwards.
"You can try to beat me," you begin. "But it won't work. Don't try to stop me again, or I will kill you. Do you really wanna see me go full force?" Avery breathes heavily through his mouth, glaring at you. He holds out his hand, and Donald, rather reluctantly, shifts into a harpoon, barbed edges lining the blade of the spear. You smirk.
"I take it you have a death wish. Okay, less fanboys for me to deal with later." You take a step forward, crouching slightly. Your hair falls over your shoulders and face, blocking their view of your eyes. Let's get this over with.
You shoot towards Avery, brandishing your left arm as a crimson sword. The two-star spins his weapon, charging towards you head-on. Just as the tip of the spear shoots out towards your shoulder, you flip over Avery's head, using his shoulders as leverage to throw yourself higher into the air. You smirk as you land gracefully on your feet, while Avery stumbles behind you, momentarily landing on his butt. You listen as he gets up, not bothering to turn around when he starts charging towards you. You stand completely still, listening with your eyes closed to find where he'll aim. There, on the left. Two, no, three inches below my collarbone. My heart? Nah, just the lung. Okay then.
"Gotcha now!" Avery shouts. You sigh, leaning to the right slightly and grabbing Donald by the handle of the spear.
Avery's hand slips off of his weapon, making him fly headfirst into the wall. He staggers to his feet, clutching his now-bleeding head, but you launch Donald towards his upper arm, pinning him to the wall. He screams as the barbed blade pierces his muscle. You turn away. Too easy.
You race for the stairs, leaping up the steps three at a time. Surprisingly, Chase doesn't follow you. You kick the door open, charging through the doorframe into a... guitar shop? Oh yeah, they drugged you before, so you wouldn't see where thet were taking you. You sigh and barricade the door so they can't follow you.
"Took you long enough," hisses a voice. You freeze up, clutching the headrest of a chair in your fists. No, no, no, no, no! Why is she here? Why now?
You breathe through your nose, trying to calm yourself down even though your heart is pumping 100 miles a minute. The voice behind you chuckles.
"Oh? Scared already, I see? Well, I suppose that's only to be expected, considering I killed your mother right before your eyes. Fear is only a natural reaction, I guess." You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself as an onslaught of memories cloud your head. Your mother, blood gushing through the hole in her chest. Falling to her knees with her face turned to the sky. A purple-cloaked figure shoving her to the ground mercilessly. And I couldn't do anything about it. You grit your teeth and shove the memories away.
"Shut up, Kurami," you hiss through your clenched teeth. Kurami chuckles.
"Oh, come now. You know it's true. You fear me, don't you?" She laughs. You whirl around and lunge at her.
"I said SHUT UP!!!" you shriek. She kicks off her perch on a dusty counter, alighting on a flimsy shelf littered with guitar parts. She laughs again.
"You wanna fight already. Well aren't you eager, my dear. Very well. Let's fight. When I'm done with you, I'll take you back to the lab so we can finish what we started."
You stiffen, reaching up to touch the incision scars on your stomach. No, never again. Anything but that.
Kurami yanks off her cloak, a shiny indigo satin robe lined with embroidered silver graveyards. Her frizzy black hair, topped with her trademark witch hat, splays out over her shoulders, streaked with purple. Her old, wrinkly skin looks (and probably feels) like lumpy pale sandpaper. All in all, she's the same ugly old hag as she was six years ago. She grins at you.
"Ah, it's been so long since I had a good fight. Let us see how much you've grown." She vanishes in a flurry of bats, momentarily disappearing. But you know better. You close your eyes and listen carefully, trying to pinpoint the witch's location. There!
You swing your leg out to your right, kicking something that does not feel like a guitar. You still remember Kurami's ability to shapeshift into anything she touches.
The 'guitar' you kicked grunts and falls to the floor. You waste no time plunging your sword-arm into the moldy wooden instrument. The guitar poofs away, leaving no traces of its existence other than a small puddle of blood. Something shifts near the door, and you rush toward it.
"You're not getting away!" you shout. You stab an purple electric guitar, smirking. Purple just happens to be Kurami's favorite color. Too obvious. Kurami materializes, clutching her bloody left arm in her right.
"Seems you've gotten a little rusty in six years, huh?" you say indifferently. She scowls at you, forcing herself to raise both her arms.
"Oh, quite the opposite, [Name]. I've been training, too. Although it makes little difference. You're still as weak as you were six years ago." She smirks, poofing away. In her place stands a wooden chair. Oh, come on! I can't believe I fell for that.
You try to pull your arm out of the chair, but it's stuck. Damn! You swing the chair at the wall, sending little splinters flying. A few shards fall into your hair.
"You're wrong, you know." You kick the chair away and straighten up. "I'm not as weak as I was last time. And I'm not afraid of you anymore. In fact, I'm glad you're here. All that's left for me to do is kill you, stop my father, and live up to my mother's expectations of becoming a Death Scythe." Kurami materializes at the back of the shop, smirking. You kneel, focusing on strengthening your soul wavelength. I've only used this one other time in a real fight. I hope I get it right this time.
You stretch your soul wavelength out, drawing upon the strength of every ghost and kishin in a two-mile radius. You draw that strength into your hands, glaring at Kurami the whole time. "Time to show you the fruits of my training. Luckily, I don't need a meister to pull this off anymore." Kurami growls as a red glow surrounds your body.
"Soul Resonance: Call of the Haunted!"