It's a beautiful day. And right about now, I would start going off about how the pavement is soaking up the sunshine and I'm at ease, but that's not the case. In fact, sunshine is probably my worst enemy right now.
I glare down at the ground, my hands on my knees. I haven't worked this hard in a while. That's for certain. My legs feel wobbly and weak, my entire being fatigued from all the exercises I've endured thus far here at the Academy. It's the end of the day. Everyone has retired to their homes. After my morning exercises, Kid asked if I would like to train after he got out of class at the end of the day, and I simply couldn't refuse the offer. I need the extra practice.
I choose not to complain. I'm not one to whine; however, if I keep this up, I'm sure I'll pass out from a heat stroke right here on the grass.
"You're not going to stop now, are you?" Kid calls from the shade of a nearby tree.
I glance up at him, giving him my best sarcastic look. "No, I'm just taking a little break."
I may be an athletic girl with a love for exercise and challenges, but I'm still only human. There's only so much I can take before I give way and collapse. In spite of that, I refuse to give up. That's not even an option. The DWMA is where I belong, and I intend to make it there even if it kills me. I've been at this for weeks now, and I'm not about to throw in the towel anytime soon.
My sister is jogging around the track, kicking dust and dirt up in her wake. Her blonde and brown hair bounces up and down in a layered ٹٹو tail, and right beside her, Soul jogs along with her. They look like they're having a good time, talking and conversing without a care in the world.
Sometimes Kid joins in on my exercises like that, but only if I need direction یا guidance. He believes that in order for me to receive the full benefit of the exercise, I must do it alone. If I'm alone, all I can focus on is the work, and my mind won't wander onto other topics. He made it clear that when I'm caught in a battle for my life, it'll be strenuous work and I won't have time to dilly-dally in the recesses of my mind. I'll be able to focus on the fight, but that's it, so he makes a valid point I can't possibly argue with.
All I've been able to think about for the past few hours is my دل rate and endurance. With every step, lift, jump, and stretch, a severe amount of energy is taken from my body. If it wasn't for Kid, I would have gone inside to lie down quite a long time ago.
He walks out from the shade and stands beside me while I manage to straighten my posture. I cannot ignore the feeling I get when he's around. It's still there, but I've learned to deal with it. In fact, I've actually grown so accustomed to the feeling of the static that I've come to like it. I feel safe, secure. When I sense the connection in the air, I know he's near and that fills me with a copious amount of comfort. I smile to myself. How silly. I don't know if the connection in the sparring room was fate یا a spot of serendipity, but I'm glad it happened. It's still rather confusing. I don't know what it is یا how it occurred, and I certainly haven't a clue why it happened with Kid of all people. But I'm sure it'll sort itself out eventually. It has to.
I look back at Kid, and he checks his watch. "You've done well so far. Your endurance level has increased since last week. I can tell." He looks down at his clipboard matter-of-factly. "And your strength is considerably مزید potent, not to mention quite effective with your accuracy and technique. To be honest with you, I believe you're ready now. But since we have a week left before آپ take the exam, I will continue your training. There's no need to get lethargic, and we can't afford any slacking."
"I understand," I say, slowing my breathing to a مزید reasonable pace. "What مزید do آپ need me to do, Kid? I'm ready to go again."
He smiles at my eagerness and looks up into the trees. "The sun is starting to set. It's getting late. Why don't آپ go ہوم and freshen up? Take some time to rest."
"Are آپ sure, Kid? I'd be willing to do a few مزید reps." Now that the sun is finally gone, I feel rather boisterous.
He shakes his head. "You deserve to take some time for yourself. آپ didn't have to do these after-school exercises in the first place, but آپ chose to anyway. It's Friday. Go enjoy yourself."
I raise my eyebrows, alarmed. This is the first time he's دیا me the opportunity to rest and relax. He must feel pretty confident. "Alright. If آپ say so, Kid. I trust you." I pick up my Nike bag with all my exercising necessities. It contains a water bottle, a change of clothes, shoes, a few hair ties, and a notebook with a pencil attached in case I need to make mental note of my progress.
He nods, looking at the clipboard again with a pen to his lips. He looks pensive, like he's thinking a few things over.
"Well, thanks for taking the extra time to train me today! I'll see آپ later!" I say, walking away with a wave of my hand.
"Jordan, wait…" he says commandingly.
I stop and look back at him. Has he changed his mind?
He pauses before looking up from his clipboard and putting a hand to his hip. "I don't know if آپ have plans for tomorrow, but I was wondering if you'd like to have رات کے کھانے, شام کا کھانا with me."
"Dinner? Yeah, رات کے کھانے, شام کا کھانا sounds great!" I say almost a little too energetically. If I wasn't in the company of Kid, I probably would facepalm right now. What a joke. I really need to tone it down a bit when I talk.
He smiles comfortingly, the shade of the trees falling on his face, giving him a soft and welcoming look. "That's great. I think it'll be a wonderful opportunity to get to know each other better. Just a little friendly outing. I'll pick آپ up at six and have آپ ہوم سے طرف کی eight. Does that sound good?"
I blush a little, holding my hand to the left side of my face to keep my hair from blowing across my eyes. Nodding quickly from the anxiety, I smile brightly. "Mhm! Six sounds perfect! See آپ at six!"
Kid nods, smiling back.
I wave my hand once like an idiot and turn, walking somewhat quickly to the woodland exit. I'm always so insecure about my behavior when my back is turned because I don't know if people are watching me یا not. I just guess and assume the worst. An عملی حکمت sweat drop appears اگلے to my head as I sigh in relief, reaching the road that will lead me home. I mull over what just happened. Maybe I did pass out from a heat stroke, and this is just some sort of strange dream. Yeah, that has to be it. Kid wouldn't ask me out for dinner. That's just crazy talk. I'm the smallest person in the world for my age. No one likes small people. I sigh again. Okay, now I'm just being stupid.
This is different. I've never been asked out to رات کے کھانے, شام کا کھانا سے طرف کی a boy before. What do I wear? What will we say? A million سوالات run through my head at the same time like a traffic-jammed freeway as I try to make sense of it all.
Well, if I really am going on this friendly رات کے کھانے, شام کا کھانا date, I better get ہوم and rest like Kid suggested. I still have a little run left in me. Hefting my bag over my shoulder, I run like the wind straight for my house.
…
After showering, doing my hair, and playing around on my laptop for a little bit, I finally made it to بستر for the night. Now it's the afternoon of the اگلے day, and I have to be honest. I'm scared. Kid seems like such a serious guy, and he can get explosive about certain things. For instance, I recall he blew up at Patty just because she was wearing two different-colored socks. One was purple. One was orange. And Kid was red with fury.
I guess they have some major rules set in place at Kid's mansion. I wouldn't doubt it for a second. It almost makes me feel bad for his weapon partners. I wonder how strict he is when it comes to the perfection of his manor. I guess I'll never really know.
I turn my train of thought to my wardrobe. I don't have any clothing that could exactly be counted as symmetrical, so I choose a simple polka-dotted بلاؤز, کمری with a pencil سکرٹ, گھیرنا and some flats. I fuss with my bangs in the mirror and double-check my appearance. I've never minded how I present myself to the public. In fact, I can't say I've ever been concerned with what I wear یا how well I primp myself up like any average teenage girl. I guess it's never been a problem for me. I've never had any real group of friends, and I don't see the point in dressing yourself up just so no one can see you. I mean, how silly.
I sigh and grip the sides of the sink, lifting my head up to look at my reflection. What am I doing? This isn't like me. I don't stress out over my appearance. And I certainly don't stress out over a boy – a boy I've only known for a few weeks now.
I take out my anxiety medication, pop a pill in my mouth, and close my eyes. Calm down, I tell myself. Everything will be all right. Kid's just a friend. He doesn't mean anything سے طرف کی this invitation to dinner. He کہا it himself. A friendly outing. It's just two دوستوں hanging out for the night. That's all it is.
Suddenly, my cell phone begins to ring. I check the caller ID, and I laugh a little nervously when I see his name pop up on the screen. Fumbling to unlock my phone like my fingers are doused in butter, I finally manage to answer the call.
"Hahaaa! Hello?" I ask.
"Hey, Jordan. It's Kid. I just wanted to see if آپ were still available for رات کے کھانے, شام کا کھانا tonight."
I pause. Answer him, آپ idiot! "Uhhh, yeah! Of course! Haha! Haaa…"
"Are آپ sure? If آپ made other plans, we can always reschedule."
"No, no! I didn't make any other plans. Nope!" I sound like I'm defending a guilty statement.
"Oh, great," he says. "Do آپ have any places in mind?"
I give that some thought. I don't know what kind of food Kid likes. We've never really eaten with each other before. My پسندیدہ food is sushi, but that's a bit expensive. My سیکنڈ پسندیدہ would be Italian, but I don't know of many Italian restaurants in the area. I decide to mention Italian. Maybe he knows where we could find a few.
"Um… Do آپ like Italian food?"
"Yes," he replies. I can hear the smile in his voice. I don't know if he's smiling because he's amused with my nervous dialect یا not, so I laugh a little again to calm myself down.
Something I've always noticed about myself is how I laugh when I'm nervous. I've been mocked and made fun of because of it, but that's the way I've always been. It doesn't necessarily bother me anymore, but right now, I wish I had a switch to shut all that off. I could really do without the awkward laughter tonight.
"Cool! So do I! Does Italian sound like something you'd be interested in?"
"Italian is perfect," he جوابات with a contentedly comfortable tone. "I know a restaurant that's just a couple streets over from your house. I think it's called Rizzuto's Pasta. Have آپ heard of it?"
"That's one of my پسندیدہ restaurants!" I say happily.
"Excellent." I hear some voices around him. I can't make the words out, but I can tell it's either Liz یا Patty. He whispers a reply to them and then returns his attention to me. "I'll see آپ at six."
"Sounds good! Bye!" I reply a little too hastily and hang up the phone. I breathe a sigh of relief and slide down a دیوار into a sitting position. God, please help me survive this night.
Just then, my sister comes into the bathroom with her hair all done up in a ٹٹو tail and headphones in her ears. She's singing along with whatever song she's listening to and twerking in my face. "Ugh!" I exclaim, getting up and running out of the room.
"Whaaat?!" she yells.
"Ugh!" I repeat in the اگلے room.
"Whatever!" she yells back.
…
I'm ready. My outfit hugs my tiny frame perfectly, and my face looks defined, but natural. My hair is brushed and smooth. I feel calm, cool, and collected. I look at the clock and it's 5:58PM. Maybe Kid's running a bit late, I think to myself. I smooth out my سکرٹ, گھیرنا and sit down, watching the final منٹ tick by. As soon as it turns 6:00PM, I hear a knock at the door. I smile to myself. He really is a punctual guy, isn't he? As I approach the door, I can feel the butterflies in my stomach and the usual static returning. How ironic.
I manage the last few bumbling steps, place my hand on the golden doorknob, and turn it. Opening the door, I find Kid in a dashing but subtle outfit. He wears a long-sleeved, buttoned, white dress شرٹ, قمیض with a tie and black suspenders with black pants and black shoes. His smile is welcoming as I see his eyes examining me too. I wonder what he's thinking, and I grow a little مزید insecure about the outfit I've chosen.
"You look great," he says. "Are آپ ready to go?"
"Y-Yeah! Absolutely." I turn and call to my sister, "I'll be back at eight, Adrienne!"
She yells back, "Okay! Bring me back some cheesecake!"
I roll my eyes and close the door behind me as I step outside into the warm, night air. The lamp lights on either side of my house gleam and shine a yellowish tint on the front steps to my porch, similar to the moon smiling high in the beautiful بنفشی, وایلیٹ sky. We walk down the steps together, and he seems perfectly at ease as he saunters so deftly beside me.
"We should get to the restaurant in record time," Kid assures me. "We could get there a lot faster on my skateboard, but I thought the walk would be nice."
I raise my eyebrows. "You skateboard?" I ask. "Wait a second, how would the both of us manage riding to a restaurant on a single skateboard?" I find the idea to be quite comical. "I'd probably lose my balance."
"Oh, that's right," he says. "You haven't seen my skateboard. It's not just any ordinary skateboard, آپ see. It flies."
"A flying skateboard? Okay, آپ have to دکھائیں me that sometime," I say. "But آپ never told me you're a skater. That's pretty cool. Can آپ do any tricks?"
We turned the corner around the bend of the سٹریٹ, گلی and continued walking. This part of the town is a little darker, as if you'd see this سٹریٹ, گلی on the cover of some horror flick on Halloween night.
"I've always liked skateboards. I started when I was young," he says. "I found freedom in skating. I liked the exhilaration of the speed and the jumps. I taught myself every trick in the book. I wouldn't say I'm the best, but I'm certainly not mediocre either."
"Something's telling me you're being too modest," I say, smiling a little. "That's pretty incredible. آپ had no instruction at all? Not even from your father?"
He doesn't answer. He just looks at me with a 'seriously-you-just-asked-me-that?' face. I laugh. "Okay, okay. But آپ have to admit it would be kind of funny to see your father skateboard." A sudden image flashes into my mind of Lord Death with a ہیلمیٹ on his head, holding up a peace sign and balancing a skateboard on his finger.
"My father tries too hard to be relatable sometimes," he says. "But I can't say I blame him. I mean, I understand his motives. He's the head of thousands of young students after all."
I put my hands behind my back and kick a stone into the street. I feel my insecurity begin to rise a tiny bit as I think about my past social experiences. I can't recall ever making a boy laugh. Maybe in elementary school, but back then, everything was funny. I automatically make a mental note to make Kid laugh before this night is over.
I see the restaurant looming in front of us all lit up in lights. This triggers a sudden epiphany. For the اگلے گھنٹہ یا so, I'll be alone with Kid. I don't know if this is the appropriate time to bring up the connection we felt in the sparring room that first day. Would it spoil our good evening? I'll have to wait and see. If I do bring it up, I'll make sure to be subtle about it.
We enter the restaurant, and the smell of gourmet Italian cuisine assails the air around us. I pick up the scent of rosemary, basil, and garlic bread. It smells lovely. The hostess glances up from her podium with a pearly smile and grabs two menus. "Two of you? Do آپ have a reservation?"
Kid holds something up quickly and then puts it away when she sees it. I think it was his ID. Why would he need to دکھائیں his ID at a restaurant? Unless he really did make a reservation...
The waitress leads us to a curtained booth in the corner of the room. It's secluded, but it's nice. A selection of old تصاویر adorns the wall, depicting men with considerably astounding mustaches standing اگلے to some fresh tomatoes یا vegetable gardens.
We take our seat, and he sits across the میز, جدول from me. Nodding in appreciation to the hostess, he returns his attention back to me with that smile I've come to know so well.
"This is nice," I say. "I wasn't expecting them to give us a booth. This place looks jam-packed with people." I glance around at all the occupied tables. "This one was the only booth open. How strange."
Kid bores his yellow eyes into mine, and I'm taken aback سے طرف کی the sudden spark of his gaze. What was that? I stare back.
"This booth was open because it was reserved for us," he جوابات knowingly, smiling slightly with a hint of self-satisfaction.
"Reserved? آپ made reservations?" I ask. "But how?"
"Mmm…" he hesitates."You may find this strange, but I had a feeling you'd choose this place. Besides, being the son of the Grim Reaper has its benefits."
I raise my eyebrows. "It's like…you read my mind." I smile. "You never cease to amaze me, Kid." I was about to add another تبصرہ when our waitress hop-skipped to our table. She's a bubbly blonde, very pretty.
"Hello! Welcome to Rizzuto's Pasta. My name's Jennifer. I'll be your waitress tonight. Can I get آپ any beverages this evening?" she asks.
Kid looks up at her and speaks with a courteously polite tone to his voice. "Yes, that would be nice." He looks at me. "What would آپ like?"
"Um…" I flip the menu over and instinctively look at the soft drinks. Then I take a glance over the other options and smile at her. "I'll have سٹرابیری, اسٹرابیری lemonade, thank you."
Kid gives me a look that I can't quite place. Was that disbelief? He turns his attention back to the waitress and says, "And I'll have a virgin piña colada, please."
"Certainly! I'll be right back," she says, walking away with gusto.
I raise an eyebrow curiously and stare at him. I clear my throat and smile a little, but no words come to mind. Did he just read my mind again? Virgin piña colada is my پسندیدہ drink. I didn't order it because it's a bit pricy, and I don't like ordering expensive things amongst other people. I think it's bad taste.
"Hm… What's that look for?" I ask, grinning. I have to say I'm amused. This entire night is turning out to be something completely other than what I initially expected. He's giving me a knowing stare, but he turns and looks away from me when he answers.
"Look? I don't know what you're talking about," he says.
"Don't play innocent with me," I accuse, laughing a little. Shaking my head, I grab my menu and look over the entrés. Kid does the same, and without looking away from the menu, he asks, "So this is your پسندیدہ Italian restaurant. What do آپ like to get from here?"
I blush. I don't know why I just blushed, but I did. Perhaps it's because coming here was my idea. "Well, I always get pasta. Sometimes I order the chicken scaloppini, but most of the time, I just get Fettuccine Alfredo." I smile. "That's probably what I'm going to get this time. What about you?"
He raises his eyebrows. "I get the Fettuccine Alfredo too. It's not bad."
I giggle. "Yeah, I like it here. It's so creamy." I give him my best kawaii smile, and he laughs. Whoa, he laughed? Not even 15 منٹ into our arrival, and I made him laugh. That's great. I didn't even mean to.
I look over to my right and I see the hostesses and hosts pointing over to our table. There could only be one explanation for that. I point it out to him. "Looks like you've got a little پرستار base over there."
He looks over his shoulder and then glances back at his menu, feigning indifference. "Don't pay them any mind."
"I bet you're used to that سے طرف کی now," I say. "It's like you're a celebrity."
He smiles to himself, still looking at the menu. "So we're both getting the same thing then?"
"Yes," I reply, and the waitress comes back with the drinks and a basket of fresh garlic bread. She pops a little pen out of her front pocket and prepares to write. "Have آپ guys decided what you'd like this evening?"
I nod. "We'll both be having the Fettuccine Alfredo, thank you." She nods and tells us it'll be ready in a jiffy, taking our menus and dancing away from the table.
My curiosity aroused, I examine the piña colada as I help myself to a piece of garlic bread. The drink looks very nice with a toothpick umbrella skewering a juicy چیری, آلو بالو and a piece of pineapple at the top. Quite elegant. "So آپ like virgin piña coladas?" I ask him, taking a bite of the bread.
"I do," he says, "but not as much as you." He slides the drink over to me, and I raise my eyebrows. "How did you…?"
"I don't know," he says, looking away. "And that's part of the reason why I invited آپ on this little venture. آپ and I have some things to talk about."
I see now. So I'm not crazy. He's been feeling the connection too. And here I thought I was the only one who noticed it. I slide the سٹرابیری, اسٹرابیری لیمونیڈ, لمنڈ over to him, trading drinks. "I'm guessing سٹرابیری, اسٹرابیری لیمونیڈ, لمنڈ is your favorite?"
He nods, and my head spins with the sudden realization that something very strange is going on here. "Okay… So آپ made reservations at my پسندیدہ Italian restaurant…because آپ somehow knew I was going to mention this place. And then we ordered each other's پسندیدہ drink…"
"I ordered it because I knew deep down آپ wanted it," he says slowly. "I don't know how I knew this, but I just did."
I shake my head slowly in disbelief. What's going on here? First it was just a little static, but now it's like the static has evolved into something even مزید omnipotent. Why is that? Is it because we haven't acknowledged the static? Maybe Kid's just a good guesser, and this is all just one big coincidence.
"I know just as much about this as آپ do," he says to me, smoothing a napkin out on his lap. "But that's what I wanted to talk to آپ about. That's one of the reasons I invited آپ here. I think we have a few matters we need to discuss. Now, for the sake of my own sanity, please tell me you've been noticing something…intangible…about us too."
Us. Something intangible. Between us. Yes.
I look at him, wanting to communicate with my eyes so he'll take me as seriously as possible. He returns the stare. "I can't lie," I say. "I've been feeling something too. Ever since that دن in the sparring room…when آپ were thrown into the wall, I've been feeling a strange aura every time I'm around you. I call it the static." Here we go. I've دیا the connection between Kid and myself a name.
"The static…" he says, "I can see why you'd call it that. I've been feeling static-like electricity in the air when I'm around آپ too. At first, I brushed it off and didn't think twice about it, but now it's become something I can't ignore."
I take a sip of the piña colada and think about what he said. So it's official. He's feeling the static too. I'm not crazy. But now that my sanity has been established, the real سوال can come to light. Why is this happening? Meisters and weapons resonate their souls with others in order to synchronize their attacks and increase effectiveness, but I've never heard of a case in which two meisters resonate and never stop resonating.
"What do آپ think this is?" I ask.
He twirls the straw around in his سٹرابیری, اسٹرابیری لیمونیڈ, لمنڈ distractedly, but I can tell he's thinking long and hard about all this just like I am. He جوابات almost tiredly, "I don't know… But one thing's for sure. Whatever is happening between us was initiated when we attempted to synchronize our souls that first day. My guess is we never left that state. We resonated successfully, but then something went drastically wrong." He looks away. "It makes me wonder… There are so many سوالات I'd like answered, but at least I know you've been feeling the same things I have. Now we can attempt to find out what the cause of all this is."
"And what do آپ think the cause of all this is?" I ask. "I, personally, have never encountered something like this before. When meisters resonate with other meisters, shouldn't the resonance stop at some point?"
We put a lot of thought into this, and Kid stays silent. So thoughtful is his expression that I can almost picture a million thought bubbles popping up اگلے to his head. I wonder what they'd be filled with. Endless upon endless amounts of سوالات and exclamation marks, I'm sure.
I'm about to add another تبصرہ when our waitress prances along bearing a tray. She lightly sets two steamy plates in front of us and winks.
"Let me know if I can get آپ anything else this evening!"
"This is great, thanks," I say, smiling.
When she leaves, I return my attention back to the میز, جدول and the awkward conversation surrounding it. Kid still looks like he's in deep thought, but he slowly pulls himself out of the trance and looks at the plates as if noticing them for the first time.
"Well," I begin to say, twirling a fork around in my plate of pasta, "maybe we should just cut right to the chase. What do آپ think آپ know about me? I'll tell آپ if you're right یا wrong, and then I'll do the same for you. Let's see how accurate this static really is."
He nods and then looks up at me. "Alright, do آپ like classical music?"
"Yes," I answer. "Classical موسیقی is my پسندیدہ genre of music."
He looks off to the side. "I had a feeling that was true. Classical موسیقی is my پسندیدہ as well, but I listen to a large variety of classical, not just Beethoven یا Mozart."
I smile to myself. A boy who likes classical music? Now that's something I've never encountered before. They say listening to orchestra and instrumentals is an excellent way to help آپ synchronize your soul wavelength with others. It's a genre filled with wholesomeness and emotion that cannot be put into words, strumming along the faintest threads of your inner core and bringing out a depth آپ couldn't possibly describe.
I notice he's smiling a little, and I can't help but smile too. As strange as this is, it's a little amusing that we know things about each other that we've never actually discussed before.
He asks the اگلے سوال after taking another bite of the Italian cuisine, and I readily listen to him.
"Do آپ want to make فلمیں when آپ get older?"
"Yes," I say, shocked. For some reason, this سوال really takes me off guard. My love for فلمیں and movie-making is something I've never displayed یا talked about around him یا anyone for that matter. The only person I talk to about my dreams as a filmmaker would be my sister, and I doubt she's brought anything up regarding my future recently.
He moves on to the اگلے سوالات without hesitating while nonchalantly finishing his meal as if we were talking about the most casual thing in the world.
"Do آپ like to speak your mind and voice your opinions aloud?"
"Yes."
"Are cats your پسندیدہ animals?"
"Yes."
"Your پسندیدہ food is sushi, right?"
"Yes."
He looks up and raises his eyebrows. I know why. I laugh a little nervously and smile to myself. "I didn't choose a sushi place tonight because—"
"You don't like it when people spend money on you," he finishes for me with a smile. "Jordan, I wouldn't have cared if آپ had chosen a sushi place." He speaks with a comforting yet matter-of-fact tone. "Sure, I brought آپ out tonight so we could talk, but that's not the only reason. I wanted to treat آپ to a nice رات کے کھانے, شام کا کھانا and get to know آپ better. I feel like we haven't had the opportunity to expand our relations with each other. I didn't want to spoil your image of me and make آپ think I'm just your coach. I want آپ to see me as a friend, because that's what I am. Your friend. I desire to see آپ succeed, and I'm here to help آپ every step of the way until آپ make it. I have مزید than enough confidence in you. Why else do آپ think I've invested every سیکنڈ of my morning into your training? I understand آپ don't like ordering expensive things, and that's exceedingly courteous, but I can't do my job as a friend if آپ won't let me. So please just speak your mind. اگلے time, I will take آپ to the nicest sushi restaurant in the city, and we can start over again, okay?"
I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, and I feel a bit embarrassed having been caught red-handed with my own insecurities. No friend of mine has ever کہا something so considerate. I smile and nod. "Thanks, Kid. I'd like that. Nobody's ever کہا something quite so polite to me, and I appreciate it. Thank you."
He smiles in acknowledgment of my words, and I clear my throat. "So, uh, want me to ask آپ a few سوالات now?"
"Sure," he responds, sitting back against his نشست and playing with the straw in his lemonade.
All this time, I've been brushing the static off like it was just a common housefly, but now I'm giving it all the time in the world. I succumb to it, and I let it overwhelm my every thought, giving it refuge in my mind to whisper all its secrets. I close my eyes for a second, soaking in the static, and when I open them back up, it's like my mind has been removed and replaced with someone else's. Suddenly, it's like I'm seeing the world through new eyes, and all my likes, dislikes, and quirks are no longer my own. I assume that all this information that is now clouding my vision and flying past me in a blur is related to Kid. I jump into the questions.
"You believe that rules of conduct should be followed, but only if they coincide with balance and order. Is that right?" I ask.
"Yes, that's correct."
"You're not afraid to cry in public یا in front of your friends, yes?"
"Right, I'm not afraid to display any emotion in front of my friends."
I nod and continue to تلاش for مزید of Kid's preferences when I see a thought run past me that I can't ignore, so I decide to voice it into a question. Maybe he can offer some input into this one.
"Your deepest fear…is failure…" I look up into his eyes. "You're scared of failing your friends…those who are closest to you…your father…the Academy…the city… Is that right?"
He looks from me and down to the table; the expression on his face looks crestfallen, as if he's recalling a past memory یا faint recollection. I wait for him to answer, and when he does, he sounds a little dejected.
"As a young Grim Reaper, I have many responsibilities… People look up to my father to lead the human population in the right direction, to maintain order and peace in the world... I can't always rely on him… Sooner یا later, I'll have to step up and take on a lot of power, a power that is out of any human's reach simply because humans are so prone to corruption. I know I'll manage, but I can't shake the feeling that something may go terribly wrong one day…and I won't have the power to protect the people around me, nor the dexterity to uphold the peace this world so desperately needs. It's just a lot to take in. That's all." He smiles at me. "I'm sorry if I confused you. I shouldn't expect anyone to fully understand the predicament I'm in."
"No," I shake my head. "You haven't confused me at all." Now it's my turn to comfort him, and I do so willingly.
"Kid, if there's anyone destined to lead this world in the right direction, it's you. I mean, I've only known آپ for a few weeks, but I already know so much about you. You're intelligent, and you're compassionate, and آپ care about the well-being of the human race مزید than any human I know. You're still young, and آپ have a lot to learn. I'm sure that سے طرف کی the time آپ do take over this city, you'll be able to handle anything. Bad things happen. No one can change that. But with آپ as our leader, those bad things can be and will be solved. I'm sure of it. Just give yourself the time آپ need. No one is rushing آپ to take on anything, not until you're ready. And when the time does come, آپ will be. آپ have the ideal morals of a Grim Reaper, and you're definitely intelligent enough to handle any situation that comes your way." I smile at him. "It's in your blood. If balance and order and perfect symmetry is what آپ strive for, then so be it, and if آپ want to protect those around you, then آپ will, and you'll do it efficiently because that's just the kind of person آپ are. سے طرف کی the time آپ reach full maturity as a death god, I bet you'll be just as great, if not greater than your father, and this world will be just as آپ want it to be, nothing مزید and nothing less. Because that's what balance is, isn't it?" I laugh a little. "You'll be just fine. Don't even stress about it, okay?"
He looks up at me, appearing slightly taken aback سے طرف کی my words. I wish I could read his mind, so I could figure out what that expression means.
"No one has ever کہا something like that to me," he says. "Thank you."
I smile and stretch my arms to ease any residuum of tension in the air. "Of course! I may not be the strongest person in the world, but when it comes to a good pep talk, I'm ready as ever."
"You've really filled me with confidence," he replies, smiling at me with appreciation gleaming in his eyes. "I needed that. If there's anything you'd like to talk about, don't hesitate to let me know. I'm not bad at giving pep talks either, and I'm always willing to listen."
This almost makes me blush again. The typical stereotype for boys suggests that none of them want to listen to anything nor talk about any topic that involves feelings and emotions. But when I look at Kid, I see a boy that's not afraid to neither دکھائیں his emotions nor talk about them. No, he's comfortable with feeling sentimental یا emotional. In fact, it seems like he welcomes it. That's really something special. I nod once to acknowledge his words.
"Thank you, Kid. I'll keep that in mind."
Just then, our waitress, Jennifer, brings in our check and sets it on the edge of the table. She smiles at us and takes a step back. I can hear her high heels clacking against the tiled floor.
"Take all the time آپ need!" she says energetically, walking away with a knowing grin as if she's aware of something we are not.
"We should leave her a good tip... Unlike most servers I come into contact with, she was actually rather benevolent. Seems like she enjoys her job," I say, reaching for the check. I hadn't realized that Kid was already reaching for it, and I touched his hand سے طرف کی mistake. As soon as we touch, a shock-like static rushes through my hand, and I pull it back immediately. Kid does the same, and we're both alarmed because we both know that wasn't just ordinary static. It was way stronger than that.
I look up at him, and he appears slightly shocked, like the electricity has manifested itself into a facial expression and is using Kid as a mask. I assume I look the same and turn away.
"I'm sorry," I say.
He slowly grabs the check again and pulls out his wallet.
"No, it's fine…" he says, "I'll handle the check. Don't worry about it. This was me treating آپ to dinner, remember?"
"Right," I say, still puzzled with what just happened. Is the static good…or bad? Does it have a mind of its own? Is it trying to tell us something? I wish I knew مزید about this connection. Not knowing is going to bother me until I get some pristine answers. But who could I go to about this? Lord Death? I don't know if I can even see him. I'm not exactly a student at the Academy yet. I look up at Kid.
"Kid, can آپ promise me something?" I ask.
"What do آپ need me to promise?"
"I need آپ to promise not to go to your father یا anyone about this until I've completed my exam and gained entry into the Academy," I say. "When آپ choose to inquire about…whatever is going on between us…I want to be there. Please?"
He pauses and then seems to relent, nodding in agreement. "Alright, if that's what آپ want. I promise I won't say anything سے طرف کی myself. I think the first person we should go to is Professor Stein. He's a scientist in the way of phasmology and human anatomy. If anyone has answers, it's him." He, once again, bores his yellow eyes into mine. "I'll wait until we can confront him together."
"Thank you," I say. "And thank آپ for dinner. This was really nice." I give him the most appreciative smile I can muster. "Even though sushi is my favorite, I really was in the mood for Italian tonight. I enjoyed myself. I really did."
The waitress brings the check back. I hadn't even realized she took it in the first place. Kid nods at her once and then returns his attention back to me with a smile.
"I've enjoyed myself as well, and I'm glad I could have this…talk…with you," he comments. "Thank آپ for joining me this evening. You're pleasant to be around. Despite the presence of the static and the سوالات surrounding it, I would not have rather spent this night with anyone else."
"I completely agree," I reply. We stand up and take our leave of the restaurant. To think that before I entered through these doors, I was still so lost in my own thoughts, not knowing that this whole time, Kid had been feeling the same things I have. It makes me wonder just how many مزید doors I'll have to walk through before the truth becomes apparent to the both of us.
…
The Underground City is in a secluded location. Dark, gray, and foreboding, the only individuals who know of its exact location are the Immortals themselves. There are legends surrounding the place, and some say they've been there, but this has not been disclosed because – odds are – if anyone did visit the city, they'd never make it back out to see the light of day.
Deep in the mountains, caverns and caves galore gleam their natural aura. They're silent. Confusing. Almost like a labyrinth, there is only one passageway leading to the correct gate that will lead آپ underneath the surface to the clandestine hideout beneath. Almost like a parallel universe it seems, the ambiance of the Underground City reeks an omnipotent sense of darkness and cold. The walls are jagged and the ceiling is pointed with stalactites clinging to the seemingly tall, mountainous expanse above. Upon first entering the city, one is confronted with an iron gate, gargoyles adorning the columns on either side of the entrance. Just past the gates, there is a vast, circular room, stairs, doors, and hallways leading to different sections of the Underground City with lit torches lining the دیوار in their sconces.
Throughout history, many have argued and debated about how the Immortals came to be and who they originated from. Speculation has also circulated an underlying sense of doubt considering no one knows exactly what the Immortals are other than their generalized classification مزید commonly known as demigods. They keep their past hidden if they have the privilege of remembering their lives when they were still mortal, but some of the less fortunate fellows do not remember a single detail of the life they led before they became what they are: a soulless, wandering vessel with no purpose and no will of their own. These are called the Burdened. They are immortal, but they do not have any sense of direction unless دیا an order سے طرف کی the مزید superior of their kind. Their only purpose is to obey the commands of the higher ranking and مزید renowned Immortal clan, the leaders of the Underground City. There are ten Immortals in total. The rest of the population consists of Burdened.
Unlike the Burdened, the Immortals remember their past clearly, and some consider it a curse according to the fact that they do not want to remember what happened throughout the duration of their mortal lives. This may be because of the pain, guilt, sorrow, یا brokenness they felt before they died and were reborn, but this is kept strictly classified. The only time their past lives are not kept classified is when they decide to speak of them themselves to the other clan members. While the Burdened are lifeless and dull, the Immortals are boisterous and have personalities which distinguish them from the rest. They think for themselves and have a will of their own, automatically making them superior over the Burdened. The Underground City is theirs to command, but one Immortal in particular stands out above the rest.
Makoto Perish, the first Immortal, is the ruthless leader of the ten-member clan. The rest of the Immortals want to believe that they are equal with him, but when hell breaks loose, Makoto is the one everyone looks to for guidance and leadership. This is because of his temper and his ability to snap people back into reality and take charge. Almost ironically enough, Makoto, upon receiving immortality, was bestowed the power to manipulate the element of fire. All ten of the Immortals received a different manipulative power as well upon metamorphosis, making them that much stronger than any of the Burdened.
Within the تخت room, ten thrones sit in a circle. This is where the Immortals talk and consult with one another. Each نشست is filled…except for one. Makoto sits forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands tiredly. He's tall like his brother. Having short red hair and deep crimson eyes, he is but 21-years-old in mortal years. Though he is not the oldest Immortal, he is certainly the one in charge. Sighing and closing his eyes, he looks up and listens to the different conversations going on at once, losing patience quickly.
"Will آپ all…stop…TALKING?!" he screams, rubbing his temples. The talking stops abruptly, and all eyes are on him.
"…Thank you…" he says. Gazing each and every one of his colleagues in the eyes, one سے طرف کی one, he stands up and walks to the center of the دائرے, حلقہ of thrones. Pausing here and there and after a long silence, he finally brings up the سوال that has been on his mind for awhile.
"Has anyone seen Malachi?" He looks around, staring into each pair of eyes suspiciously. "Has anyone heard from him? I expect an answer from at least one of you."
Kat, the ninth member, rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "Who cares where Malachi is. It's so much better without him! You!" She points at another Immortal a little to her left named Vixon who happens to be looking at herself in a mirror. "Don't آپ think it's much مزید quiet here without him?"
Vixon rolls her eyes as well and laughs a little, looking away from her reflection. "Of course it is." She looks at Makoto. "You should calm down. I'm sure he'll pop up eventually. He's always leaving. آپ know that. Didn't he go to check on that village full of magical morons?"
Another Immortal to Vixon's left named Serilda looks at her blankly. "You mean the witches? Yes, Makoto sent him to hear them out. He still hasn't returned."
Kat shrugs. "Hopefully he never will."
Makoto feels his body begin to heat up with frustration, but he takes a deep breath and tries to suppress it. "I'm going to give him a piece of my mind when he gets back. For now, I want to hear your reports." He looks at Vixon questioningly and narrows his eyes, expecting an answer describing her findings.
Vixon stands and nods. She's a pretty 20-year-old Immortal with short purple hair and lavender eyes. "I recently traveled to a few cities in Iceland, but they were all void."
The اگلے Immortal, a large and burly antisocial man named Junior, stands next. He is often made fun of because of his name because it is so unfitting for a man of his stature and bulk. "I checked Tokyo and the island of Kyushu. There was no sign of it."
Then Serilda stands. She's a simple-looking girl with swirly, shoulder-length brown hair and bright hazel eyes with سونا flecks. Unlike her sister, she's very dark and menacing. "I visited Boston, New York and Washington D.C. It was a no go."
Her twin sister, Seraphina, stands اگلے and giggles a bit in her hands, holding a stitched up teddy برداشت, ریچھ in the hook of her arm. She's a pretty blonde with bright, hot گلابی eyes. "I visited Southern France and there wasn't anything there!"
Rex, an egotistical guy with a chimerical mind and amazing sense of charisma, stands next. He resembles a rocker, having a green and spiky Mohawk on the سب, سب سے اوپر of his head and white bandages covering part of his face, including one of his eyes. "I went to Ireland and swept the streets of several towns, but there was nothing. As always."
Next, an awkward, sort of shy boy with a blue tuxedo, dark short hair, and deep blue eyes named Soran stands and straightens his tie a little with nervousness. He wishes to be a pacifist, but because of the peer pressure he receives from his fellow colleagues, he's often forced to do things that he'd rather not do. However, he does comply in the hope that one دن he'll gain acceptance. "Heh..." he gulps."There was nothing in Northern Africa. I made sure to be very thorough."
Next, Kat stands. She's basically the lead tough girl of the clan with average-length black hair, dark eyes, a black jacket, red tank top, and camouflage pants with a کنٹرول, جوتنا around her waist for her selection of weaponry. She sighs and stands, talking as if the رپورٹ is a waste of her precious time. "Nothing in Venice, Italy."
The last to stand is Rain, the most quiet of the group. Quite introverted in his own way, he only speaks when he's within pleasant company. His appearance is simple: dark black hair, blue eyes, black jacket, red tie, and a white شرٹ, قمیض underneath.
He stands and reports, "No sign of it in Orlando, Florida."
Makoto sits down in his chair and mulls over his own thoughts. For many years now, the Immortals have been searching for the passion wavelength. Though it is only traditional that the wavelength comes around every thousand years, there have been instances recorded in history where the wavelength has reincarnated itself in another being immediately after expiration. Makoto knows this. And he does not want the wavelength to slip سے طرف کی him undetected, so he has conducted searches throughout the globe in تلاش for the passion wavelength, hoping that one day, it would دکھائیں up once again. Only then will the Immortals be capable of accomplishing their goal.
"How long are we going to look for this stupid wavelength?" Kat asks, frustrated and crossing her arms like a spoiled brat. "It's a waste of time."
"Don't be an idiot, Kat." Rex looks at her with disdain written all over his face. Of course, he's only being playful. Kat and Rex happen to get along quite nicely here and there, although the others highly criticize their friendship since no one tends to like Kat at all. "We need the passion wavelength to open the River Styx. آپ know that."
She rolls her eyes at him, a soft smirk displaying itself on her گلابی lips. "Yes, I know… But we don't even know where the River Styx is located. All we know is it's underneath the DWMA somewhere, not to mention we don't even have the key."
Seraphina raises her hand high in the air and waves it around a little. "I thought Lord Death locked it away somewhere! یا parts of it anyway…"
"Did I ask for your input, Sera?" Kat snaps.
Seraphina holds a finger to her lips and widens her eyes. "Gosh, sorry."
"You're never sorry, آپ teddy-bear-loving girly girl sissy!"
Serilda growls. "Would آپ stop that? Arguing won't help anything."
"Serilda is right," Soran tries to say confidently. "Can't we all just get along? Play some Monopoly? Read a story? Hm? Doesn't that sound nice?"
"Shut up, Soran," Kat says through clenched teeth. "Stay out of my conversations. آپ hear me?"
Soran clenches his teeth in fear and looks away. "Yeah… Sorry…"
Rex laughs, hefting his giant sword over his shoulder. "All of آپ are a bunch of idiots."
Why am I in here again?, Rain thinks to himself.
Junior closes his eyes and growls, getting sick of the noise surrounding him.
Suddenly, a burst of آگ کے, آگ explodes from the center of the floor menacingly and abruptly, causing everyone to shut their mouths and cower into the backrest of their thrones to avoid the flames. Makoto's stare is anything but friendly as he glares around the room, hands behind his back.
"When I am on the floor, all of آپ will shut up, behave, and listen when I am trying to speak! آپ understand me? I'm not running a circus here! We are demigods! Divine beings that were دیا a سیکنڈ chance at life! I will not sit here and tolerate a bunch of babbling morons!" Another explosion of آگ کے, آگ erupts and everyone cowers into their تخت once more. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Makoto begins to regain his sanity.
"We heard tell that the key to the River Styx was in Death City, not the River Styx itself. We attacked all those years پہلے to obtain the key! And we almost succeeded! It would have been a complete success if it wasn't for that damn woman… Only the Reaper knows where the River Styx is, but through extensive research thanks to our book lord, Soran," he says, motioning over to Soran, "we are getting close to revealing its exact location."
"How do we even know the River Styx is accessible anymore?" Vixon asks. "I hardly even remember what our plan was all those years ago. It's an ancient legend written about سے طرف کی a bunch of Greek gods!"
"Ancient?" a voice asks. "The only thing that's ancient around here is your face, Vixy..."
Everyone turns their head toward the entrance to the تخت room, knowing who the voice belongs to all too well.
"Malachi…" Makoto murmurs. "It's about time آپ showed up."
"Where the hell have آپ been? We were beginning to think you'd gotten killed سے طرف کی those cutesy witches." Kat laughs.
"What did they want anyway?"
"MY FACE IS NOT ANCIENT!"
Malachi makes his way to the center of the دائرے, حلقہ with his brother confidently and pokes his nose, smirking. "You're going to want to hear this!" He giggles deviously and then looks at the rest of the Immortals. "You're all going to want to hear this! But first, I think there's a few things we need to clear up." He casts his cold gaze over at Vixon. "How are آپ doing, hag? Still confused about what our mission is? Have آپ seriously forgotten that quickly? I mean, I guess I shouldn't be entirely surprised… Your memory does get worse and worse the older آپ get…"
"Shut up, Malachi! I'm not old! I don't have a single gray hair!" She looks back at her reflection in the mirror she's holding. "I'm just saying that the key is now in pieces. When we went to retrieve it, it was destroyed and broken up. How the hell are we supposed to open the gateway to the River Styx without the key? Mind telling me that?"
Makoto glares at Vixon. "There is a way to repair the key and return it to its original form. The reason the key was obliterated was because of the passion wavelength, but what destroyed it can also regenerate it. That's why we need the passion wavelength. It's the only wavelength suited enough to reform the key back together."
The powerful leader of the Immortal clan then returns his attention back to his smiling brother with a glare. "Now you…"
"Now me what?" Malachi asks, pulling one of his gloves on tightly.
"Not today, Malachi! I will not tolerate your cheeky attitude today! This is no time for playing around! I want to hear your full رپورٹ right now, یا so help me, I will burn آپ until you're nothing مزید than a simmering pile of ash!"
Malachi laughs like crazy and pats his brother's shoulder. "Sit down. I think you're burning your eyebrows off." Malachi's cooling touch on his brother's overheated shoulder makes him relax just a tiny bit, making him take the edge off his rage.
Out of all the Immortals, Malachi is the only one that can occasionally get away with teasing Makoto. Often laidback and gaining joy at the expense of other people's misery, Malachi is a sadistic demigod with an appropriate power that suits him and his personality. Quite the contrast to his brother's explosive آگ کے, آگ powers, Malachi possesses the ability to morph and manipulate the element of ice. His skin is cool to the touch, and his body heat is much colder than the average person. He can make the air around him as cold as he likes and still remain perfectly comfortable. Freezing temperatures یا even boiling temperatures do not bother him in the slightest, and his brother is the same way.
A few مزید moments pass them سے طرف کی before Makoto relents and sits down in his throne, leaving the floor for Malachi. "Let's hear it. What did the witches want?"
"This should be good," Kat whispers under her breath.
With all the Immortals' eyes on him, Malachi begins walking in circles, gesticulating as he talks.
"Before I start," Malachi begins. "Let me give آپ all a brief reminder of what happened all those years پہلے and a short summary of what our mission was for the senior citizens in here." He winks at Vixon and then continues, "As آپ know, there is only one way to open the River Styx. And what exactly is the River Styx? It is a gateway. The bridge between what is living…and what is dead." He smirks. "I'm sure آپ remember this. There is only one key that can open the gateway. It has a name. It's called the Key of Hades, and this key has been passed down over the generations from Shinigami to Shinigami over the years, and why is that? The Grim Reaper is the Guardian of Death. He is the symbol, the divine being that ferries the souls of the dead to the other side. Anyone who possesses this key has the power to bring those who have died back to life. However, the Reaper has and never will use the key for this purpose. He is the sacred holder of death. Not life. It is against his code of conduct to bring any soul back to the world of the living, no matter what the circumstance.
"When we attacked Death City all those years ago, we happened upon the misfortune of failure because of one particular woman…who possessed the passion wavelength. Before we could seize it, she took the task upon herself to destroy the key, breaking it into three pieces. The Reaper's forces were too great, and we had no choice but to retreat. Out of his own anger, the Reaper banished us from Death City, and we haven't returned since." He narrows his eyes evilly. "But I don't think we're going to honor his banishment for much longer…"
"Why do آپ say that?" Rex asks.
Malachi laughs a little to himself, closing his eyes and tucking his hands behind his back. Everyone anticipates Malachi's response, sitting on the edge of their seats and staring at him as if they already know what he's going to say. Their curiosity piqued, they readily listen to every word.
"Ladies … Gentlemen…" he says, staring around into the eyes of his colleagues, "Our long and tiresome تلاش is over. According to the witches, the passion wavelength has finally revealed itself…and it's there…in Death City…"
"Are آپ serious?" Kat exclaims. "The one city that we couldn't تلاش because of our banishment happens to be the exact city we needed to تلاش all along? Great! I told آپ our تلاش was a waste of time! It was right under our noses, and we didn't even have a clue!"
"I wouldn't say our تلاش was for nothing," Soran holds up a finger, shaking a bit. "How were we supposed to know that Death City would yield such a fine specimen?"
Kat growls and shakes a fist at Soran. "What did I say about butting into my conversations?!"
Seraphina begins to giggle into her teddy bear, hiding her face, and Serilda rolls her eyes. "Please stop…"
Rex laughs and holds his side while Malachi just stands there with a blank look on his face. Raising his eyebrows, he glances down at his pocket watch, clicking it open and counting down, "In 3…2…1…"
Makoto screams angrily and throws a fireball around the circle, almost burning each and every member in their thrones. Immediately, the Immortals regain their composure and remain quiet. An awkward silence passes as the سیکنڈ tick tick tick سے طرف کی on the clock, and the angry Makoto takes a few deep breaths.
"Will آپ all…SHUT UP and listen for once? Malachi, who possesses the passion wavelength?"
Malachi closes his eyes and smiles. "A young girl. A teenager. Her name is Jordan Lunette. And that's not even the best part," he says. Opening his eyes and staring over at his brother, he smirks knowingly. "She's made a bond…with Lord Death's son."
Everyone is taken aback سے طرف کی this news and Makoto leans آگے in his تخت almost eagerly. He widens his eyes and tilts his head as the disbelief permeates his features. "Lord Death's son… You're certain of this?"
"That's what the witches claim," Malachi responds. "That's what the Grand Witch herself told me."
"Lord Death's son…" Serilda says to herself. "This is incredible. It's almost like the past is…"
Now done with his report, Malachi sits back into his تخت and places the tips of his fingers together, closing his eyes and thinking. Makoto looks over at his brother and then smiles – a rare occurrence for him.
"If what the witches have کہا is true, then we have no need to continue our تلاش any further," he says, a happy tone pervading his voice.
"So does this mean we can storm the streets of Death City, find this girl, and kill her?" Kat asks, her eyes lighting up with hope.
"NO!" Makoto yells, a burst of flames suddenly surrounding him and then dying down in one تیز رو, سوئفٹ moment. "No, we're not going to kill her. Not yet anyway."
Malachi adds, "That would defeat the purpose, Kat." He opens his eyes and smirks. "Believe me, I'm just as eager to watch her die as آپ are, but we have to be patient."
Kat crosses her arms and glares at Malachi. "Oh, and you're patient? Stop kidding yourself. You're the most impatient person in this room."
Malachi gives her a bored look and then points over at Makoto with his thumb. "Yeahhh, I don't know about that."
She rolls her eyes and laughs. "The passion wavelength is finally within our reach. What's to hold us back? Why don't we just go in there and kill the little brat?"
"You're missing the point, Kat," Rex adds. "We need that girl to reform the key."
"Not only that," Makoto cuts in, "but we need to wait until her soul is completely cultivated. The passion wavelength is at its most powerful state when it has formed a bond with someone. My guess is the bond between she and Lord Death's son is not fully matured yet. It's probably unstable. It has not yet awoken its true powers, and it will not do so until she and that boy undergo every last trial."
"So we wait?" Rex asks.
"We wait," Makoto responds and sits back. "I will conduct further plans when we know مزید about this girl…" He looks at his brother. "What did the witches say about all this, Malachi?"
"All they کہا was they wanted Lord Death and his son out of the picture," the younger Perish brother answers. "They hate the Shinigami just as much as we do. However, I don't think they know the other half of our intentions. It's probably better it stays that way."
Makoto nods. "We will work in collaboration with the witches for the meantime. I must consult with them privately on a later date…" He looks up and addresses each Immortal in the room. Even the silent Immortals who have not spoken a word throughout the entire meeting listen furtively. "The time of the passion wavelength is upon us, and this time, there will be no screw-ups. The girl and the Shinigami boy will die in the right way…and in the right time."
Malachi opens his eyes and smirks.
"We will find the three pieces of the Key of Hades, obtain the passion wavelength, put an end to the Shinigami scum once and for all…" He narrows his eyes and smiles, insanity dripping into his voice. "And we will reign down on this world with all the fury of hell itself…"
Malachi Perish
