Restitched, Reborn?

Transfer Student of DWMA, What're Meisters & Weapons?

Voices echoed in y/n's head as reality came back to her. Her vision was blurry and bleak, but she was able to make out the two figures standing in front of her. One was black, the other mostly black with a red hair. She opened her eyes twice, then tried to keep them open as her vision began to sharpen. Before she could speak, she looked up at the redheaded man and the Grim Reaper. They turned to her and the redheaded man smiled warmly.
"Oh, you're awake. Glad to see, you scared me there." he said.
"Where . . . Where am I?" Y/n asked.
"Death City." the man told her.
"Death City? I've never heard of it."
"Oh. I see. Are you a foreigner?"
"No. If I was, I wouldn't speak fluent English like every other American, now would I? Anyways, am I dreaming or what, because this is weird— not that that bothers me."
"You aren't. Lord Death, maybe you can explain this situation." The Grim Reaper faced him.
"Very well." He turned to y/n. "My dear, you are in Death City, Nevada. Clearly in the middle of the Nevada Desert." Y/n couldn't believe what was standing in front of her. A shinigami, or in any case, the Grim Reaper himself. Most people her age would freak out or . . . probably just find this weird because he wasn't as scary as everyone depicted him as; Being a skeleton dressed in a black cloak and holding a scythe in one hand. He was the complete opposite of the stereotypical vision. A shinigami dressed in an anonymous jagged black cloak with the simple accessories of a three eyed skull mask and cartoony karate chop gloves. Y/n swallowed a dry lump in her throat and spoke.
"Uh, I'm sorry, but are you suppose to be a shinigami or the grim reaper?"
"Well, I am the Grim Reaper. But I'm not exactly what you thought I'd appear to be."
"I do. You just appear that way just so people aren't afraid of you, especially kids."
"Yeah. Anyways, back to the matter of the situation. You wandered into Death City out of the blue and passed out. We could've taken you to the hospital but a certain someone was too afraid to take you there because he thought you'd be vivisected."
"Okay. So why am I here instead of an infirmary or a bathtub?"
"Well . . . When Death Scythe picked you up, you were abnormally hot, like a stovetop. Now, you were taken to the infirmary for a physical exam and your heart rate seemed normal, but the skin on your arms were completely dry. When the nurse peeled your dry skin off, it wasn't red. It was completely normal— As if you shed snake skin or molted a spider's exoskeleton." The thought of a spider came into y/n's mind and she got goosebumps up her skull in discomfort.
"Yeah? Speaking of spiders, your mask kinda reminds me of spider eyes only there's three and not six holes." she told him. "So my skin's fine, what else?"
"Well . . . the nurse hasn't taken a blood test but she assumed you might be a witch or a Kishin. When Death Scythe heard her say so, he immediately took you out of the infirmity and brought you here. I would've preferred he'd let you rest, but decided to be reckless upon the nurse's assumption. I tried to tell him to take you back but then he started explaining something about you being a witch— Well, I shouldn't really say but still, I couldn't doubt any suspicion. So I must ask, and please be truthful, are you a witch or are you a Kishin?" The question made y/n bewildered.
"What?! Neither?! What kind of a childish question is that! There's no such thing as witches and demons or whatever you call them!" she cried.
"Maybe not in the world you grew up in, but in the outside world they do." the Grim Reaper told her.
"Oh really? Then how come I never saw your city on any maps or online?"
"Perhaps where you came from offered little knowledge of the outside world." Y/n couldn't argue with that statement.
"Well . . . I did come from a boring, small town. It was literally a rat hole."
"Hmm . . .  Not to get off-topic, but we never introduced ourselves properly. I'm Lord Death and this here is Death Scythe" The Grim Reaper gestured to the redheaded man."Now, might I ask what your name is?"
"Uh, y/n. Y/n l/n."
"I see. Well, y/n, considering your situation, you seem awfully young to be walking out in the middle of nowhere. Are you underage?"
"Yes."
"Do your parents know where you are?"
"No. I left them?"
"Left them? Why?" The question made y/n's nerves tense as she bared her fists and fought back tears. She replied boldly.
"Because I had enough of them. They weren't supportive of me and whether I did anything related to school or not, they'd doubt me. Whenever I did my hobbies such as sculpting dolls or making clothes for my dolls or myself, they considered it a waste of time and life. Even after I graduated high school early, everything I did wasn't good enough for my mom and my dad just sat there and did nothing, he was too much of a coward to stand up for me against my mom." Lord Death stood in silence, Death Scythe hung his head.
"I see. As sympathetic as I'd like to feel, you didn't flee for any other reason? No crime related to drugs or illegal activity?" Lord Death asked.
"No. I never partook in that crap. I always did my own thing." y/n told him.
"And what's that?" he asked again.
"Sculpting dolls and making clothes for my dolls or myself. Or I'd read novels or hang out at the library and relax." y/n told him.
"I'll ask one more time. Are you a witch or are you a Kishin?" Now he was getting on her nerves
"Neither. I'm human." she replied, irritated but calmly.
"Alright. Since you're underage and have nowhere else to go, perhaps you should stay here for a while and attend the academy."
"The academy? But I'm a high school graduate, I don't need to go to school again. Going to the academy would be like going to high school all over again."
"I understand, but you need to do something productive and not vegetate. And I promise, the students at DWMA are very much like you. Mature and intelligent—"
"Almost all of them. There's that one kid with an egotistic—" Before Death Scythe could finish his sentence, Lord Death Reaper-chopped him. Y/n sat there shocked. He just karate-chopped him so hard his head's bleeding! At least he didn't behead him with a scythe, but still— I don't think I should screw with this Grim Reaper!  Lord Death faced y/n.
"I apologize. Don't worry about him, my Reaper Chop will only knock him out for a few minutes till he regains consciousness. Anywho, do you think you could take a chance and attend the academy?"
"I don't know. What do they do, what is that academy you just said— DWMA? Is that like a supernatural slaying school for preteens and teenagers?" Lord Death sighed.
"Perhaps I should tell you the story." he said. "Eight hundred years ago . . . I created an elite group called the Eight Shinigami Legions. As the founder, it was my job as well as seven others to keep the world in balance and order. In other terms, we had to sustain state of peace by hunting and collecting souls that were on the list. Now the group consisted of meisters and weapons.
However, at one point, if a meister came face to face with an opponent in a battle, he or she thought they were going to die. Afraid, the meister wanted more power so that he or she could overcome his or her fear. That meister would then succumb to breaking this law, and take the soul of a good human and foresee the path of a Kishin by secretly feeding his or her weapon partner good human souls. At the time I was part of the Eight Shinigami Legions, I implanted my fears into a fragment in order to better myself and become a God of Absolute Order. That fragment was Asura. I thought I'd done my part well when I made him my first apprentice. He became part of the group, everything seemed to be going as expected . . . until he started consuming human souls. Eventually, he went so far as to consume his own weapon. Once he did that, he became a first generation Kishin. Before he could consume more human souls, I had to skin him alive, then bound him with his own skin and seal him away right here. Now as you know America was just an enormous piece of land and I wanted to seal him somewhere no one would ever release him. So I chose the desert, which as you know eventually became the Nevada Desert, and he's been sealed away ever since. I created Death City and in time, I created the DWMA— short for Death Weapon Meister Academy. I founded this academy you're currently in in order to prevent the Kishin from being released and unleashing madness that could destroy the entire world. Otherwise, it's like a middle school and high school fused together for special students like meisters and weapons." Y/n was fascinated in what she was just told but still couldn't be sure whether to believe it or not. She liked weird, creepy stuff but this stuff about Kishins and collecting souls?
"Okay. So far, I'm intrigued, but what exactly do the students learn here? Like what about generals or sports?"
"Oh, we do much much more than what the normal schools do. We have general classes, sports and after school activities, but for the advanced students we teach them about kishins, resonating souls in combat and telling the difference between a witch soul and a magical animal soul. Et cetera, et cetera."
"I see. Well, um . . . I mean . . . If what you're saying is true, then just how do you expect me to learn how to fight the supernatural?" A sweat drop formed on the side of Lord Death's head.
"Well . . . Like I said, you should spend your time here doing something productive and not vegetate. It's not like we're going to let you go and wander aimlessly in the desert. I think attending the academy would be very beneficial for you. Be thankful you're alive and not dead."
"I am, but I only want to stay here temporarily and then leave again once I'm ready and maybe have a car." Before Lord Death could speak, Death Scythe butt in.
"Oh really? And just where are you planning to go?" Death Scythe asked.
"Anywhere down south except Mexico. I've done my research and I've looked over different places from Albuquerque to Charleston, Charlottesville to San Antonio, even Myrtle Beach looked nice. Very nice." Y/n told him, furrowing her brows in annoyance.
"Those places are still far away, you're lucky I even found you or you'd be vulture's lunch." Y/n glared angrily at him.
"Vulture's lunch? Please! I walked into the city and collapsed right on the spot on the sidewalk!"
"Whatever. You're alive, you're fine, hopefully not a witch or vixen in disguise and you're staying here until we give the okay."
"Like hell! Who do you think you are!? My big brother?! I've grown up around a family full of spectrums and fryheads that've really pissed me off, but you're one to top it off my list of obnoxious assholes— you're like five of them combined!" Lord Death began to lose his patience with their bickering.
"Obnoxious? I just saved your life—" Suddenly, the Reaper's voice boomed loudly.
"SHUT UP!" The Death Scythe and the girl stopped, facing the Grim Reaper in silence. He exhaled heavily and turned his attention to y/n.
"Y/n . . . I understand you want to live a life of your own freely and independently, but the world is far more dangerous than you think it is. What I just told you is more dangerous than terrorists, you're just one girl and you can't defend yourself."
"I have a pocketknife and a fifteen ounce can of pepper spray." Y/n said, holding the two items she recently took out.
"That won't be enough. Please . . . Take my word, y/n. We only want what's best for you." Y/n hung her head, uncertain of what to decide.
"I don't know." she said.
"Death City may seem strange to you and it may seem like a village but it's actually as big as Austin and like Austin, Death City is quite lively and rich in culture and atmosphere." Y/n's eyes lit up; That's just the kind of city she was searching for. She looked up at Lord Death.
"Like Austin?! So this place is weird but lively with open-minded people?"
"I'd say so, yes." Y/n thought about it for a moment, a smile grew on her face and she faced him.
"Alright. I'll stay." The smile on her face suddenly fell. "But what am I suppose to do about jobs?"
"Well, you could always work part-time at places like Deathbucks. There is always an opening for a teacher assistant, but I think that's more for students a little older than you and attending college."
"Oh. Also . . . You won't contact my parents, right? I just can't go back to living a that boring, unproductive life like a hermit."
"No. As long as what you told us is true, we won't contact authorities. So I think we've come to an agreement, yes?"
"Yes."
"Excellent." Lord Death clasped his hands together in satisfaction. "You'll register as a student in the NOT class. As for housing, you'll be staying with Spirit— I mean Death Scythe at his house." Y/n's heart skipped a beat.
"What? Why him? It's only been fifteen minutes and I already hate the guy! Plus, I think he might be a pervert!" she cried. Spirit became white as a sheet.
"He has his flaws but as my Death Scythe, I'm entrusting him to take care of you and help you. Otherwise, if he misbehaves, just let me know and I'll Reaper-chop him a thousand times." Lord Death said. That actually didn't sound like a bad idea to her.
"Okay." Y/n said. She turned to Spirit, who was still white and lifeless, and waited for him to return to reality.
"Hey, Death Scythe, are you alive or are you gonna sulk all day? Come on already."
"Right." Spirit said, irritated.
"I mean it, Spirit. Behave yourself and treat her nicely or there will be consequences. Or in any case, think of it as dealing with another Maka." Lord Death replied.
"Another Maka? How can he say that, she already hates me for what I did." Spirit whined. Y/n had no idea what the Death Scythe was whining about as he walked past her and towards the doorway. She followed up on him as they made their way out. Once they left the Death Room, Spirit closed the door and exhaled heavily.
"Alright. Now if you'd like to shower, go to the girls locker room on the third floor below." he told her.
"Um, where exactly?" Y/n asked. Spirit groaned.