The Star Warriors Page 3

  “Good of you to finally join us,” said Touya snidely.

  “I had to teach that kangaroo a lesson,” retorted Kero, no longer afraid of the boy from whom he’d hidden for so long. His eyes fell on the nearly empty bowl of pasta and cried, “Why didn’t you save any for me?”

  “I was hungry and you didn’t come down,” said Yukito.

  Kero outstretched a stubby hand and bellowed, “You’re just as bad as Yue. You’re greedy! J’accuse!4”

  Sakura rolled her eyes and dragged Kero into the kitchen. She brought some more water to the boil for more pasta. Meanwhile, Touya’s foul mood persisted. Yukito leaned in and said, “You should probably be nicer to Lee. He might be your brother-in-law one day.”

  “Never,” growled Touya. “He’s a creep and a woman-beater.”

  Yukito grinned and put his finger to his ear, as if listening to a fake earpiece. “This just in, Touya Kinomoto has cornered the market on the sister complex.”

  “Shaddup,” Touya snarled facetiously.

  * * *

  Sakura received a call later that night. She pulled away from her math homework to answer the phone, displaying Tomoyo’s number. The girl’s voice carried a small amount of disappointment.

  “I’d love to go to Hong Kong with you,” said Tomoyo. “But, unfortunately, Mom and I were planning a three day getaway that week. I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s alright,” replied Sakura. “It’s important that you spend time with your mother. Give her my regards.”

  “So, who are you planning on taking?” asked Tomoyo.

  “Maybe Yukito,” said Sakura, though she felt strange about it.

  Tomoyo could clearly sense her unease and said, “That might not be a good idea, since he’s Touya’s partner, and he did turn you down.”

  “That’s fine, we’re past that,” said Sakura. “Big Brother wants him to go with me to make sure Xiaolang doesn’t try anything.”

  “Lee would never,” exclaimed Tomoyo.

  “Of course not,” replied Sakura. “Big Brother’s just being silly.” In her mind, however, she could not shake the giddiness of Xiaolang actually trying something. Her body quivered with excitement, for which she immediately chided herself.

  Not very lady-like, Sakura, she thought.

  “Anyway,” she stammered. “I need to finish my homework. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Later then,” said Tomoyo, and the call ended.

  As Sakura put the phone down and went back to her homework, she pondered the last time her father had called. He’d been really busy on his archaeology trip, so much that he’d only been able to call on Fridays. Strangely, he hadn’t called that particular day. That hardly worried her, since he sometimes missed a call when on an important dig. His work was important to him, and she supported him in that regard. Nevertheless, she still missed him.

  “And I need to tell him about my trip, so he doesn't worry,” she thought aloud.

  Sakura forced herself to focus on her homework. She managed to finish two more problems before her laptop blurted an incoming call alert. It was Xiaolang again.

  “Twice in one day,” exclaimed the girl, though softly so she didn’t wake Kero.

  “My parents wanted me to convey a message,” said Xiaolang. It was clear he didn’t like the idea, but he said it anyway. “They asked if you would come to Hong Kong alone. Don’t bring anyone else with you. Even Kerberus.”

  Sakura cocked her head. “Why?”

  “They want to meet you and only you,” said Xiaolang. “They don’t want either of your guardians here. I’m not sure I understand either. But that’s their conditions for meeting you.”

  Sakura frowned. She couldn’t understand what problem the Lee family could possibly have with Kero or Yue. They were the former guardians of Clow Reed, the ancestor of the Lee family. So why would they not want them there? To be honest, she could think of many reasons why they would not want Kero there; but why not Yue at the least? She looked into Xiaolang’s pixelated eyes and saw the same confusion. At the same time, she couldn’t bear to not be with him much longer. And if she wanted to be with him – and even marry him at some point – she had to make a good impression on his parents.

  “Okay,” she said. “Kero will be disappointed, but I won’t bring him, or anyone else.”

  “Thanks,” said Xiaolang. “I’ll make sure everything is ready for when you arrive. I’ll even learn to make takoyaki for you.”

  Sakura beamed. “Thank you, Xiaolang. Love you!”

  “You too,” he said, blowing her kisses. Then he shut off the call.

  * * *

  The big day came.

  Last time Sakura had stood in the Tokyo Haneda Airport terminal, it had been to see off Xiaolang. Now, she was finally going to meet him and his family. Her brother and friends were all there to see her off.

  She gave Touya a hug and he said, “Be safe, ya hear? And make sure that creep keeps his hands to himself.”

  Sakura poked her tongue out at him. Then she embraced Yukito, who said, “Remember those Cantonese phrases I told you. Okay?”

  “Will do,” said Sakura.

  Then Tomoyo butted in and threw her arms around her friend. Sakura felt some wetness on her shoulder, and realised Tomoyo was crying.

  “It’s alright, Tomoyo,” she said. “I’m only going to be gone a week.”

  “It’s not that,” said Tomoyo. “I won’t get to film my beloved Sakura!” Sakura face-palmed. Tomoyo’s tears stopped in an instant, and she held out a paper bag. Her eyes glimmered as she bellowed, “If ever there’s a Cardcaptor moment, make sure you wear this!”

  Sakura warily looked into the bag and saw a scroll of pink fabric. Within the scroll, she was sure she could see armour plating of some kind.

  “Another costume?” she asked dismayed.

  “It is my magnum opus!” exclaimed Tomoyo. She grabbed Sakura’s hands and insisted, “You must wear it if a moment comes. Promise you’ll wear it.”

  “Okay, okay!” replied Sakura.

  “By the way, there’s another costume in there,” said Tomoyo. Sakura fumbled through the bag and saw a green roll of fabric. “That one’s for Mister Lee. Make sure he wears it and you get a photo together. Okay?”

  The image made Sakura laugh. She nodded and promised to get the photo and send it to her friend straight away.

  Sakura then eyed the head poking inconspicuously out of Tomoyo’s purse. She knelt down and said, “Thanks for understanding, Kero.”

  “Lee Clan don’t like me, and I don’t like them,” said Kero. “Prob’ly good I ain’t goin’. But you just make sure you’re safe, ya hear?”

  Sakura caressed the plush toy with a smile and said, “I hear ya.”

  The traveller then put her costumes in her backpack and headed for security. She waved to her family one last time, and started to feel homesick. Her overactive imagination concocted so many bad scenarios, such as being mugged on the Hong Kong streets. At the same time, her need to see her boyfriend again spurred her onward, through security, customs, immigration, and finally onto the plane.

  “Here I come, Xiaolang,” she said as the plane took off.

  Chapter 4: Hunt in Rome

  The skyline of Rome buzzed with the prayers of Sunday night mass. The sky above, pockmarked with clouds, reflected the orange light of the city. It made for an image reminiscent of Dante Alighieri5 – ironic, given the holiness of the locale.

  A blonde girl didn’t think it so ironic as she gazed out over the ancient city.

  “A city of predators,” she murmured with a sneer.

  “Save it for ya blog, Maka,” said the albino boy crouched to her left. His deep red eyes glistened in the light as he gazed up at her. “Ya found him, yet?”

  Maka closed her eyes and extended her senses outward. Her sense of social justice drew her immediately to Saint Peter’s Basilica, to the priest presiding over mass. As the bedizened man administered communion to a young boy, Maka�
��s skin crawled. She checked his soul, but found no corruption expected of an Asura Egg. She saw nothing in the parishioners either.

  Too bad, she thought. She shook herself to focus her mind, and she looked elsewhere in the city. There was only one signature she should have been focusing on. And, like her albino partner, what she was looking for was best left to her blog.

  To the east, Maka sensed their quarry.

  “There!” she said. “Let’s go, Soul.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” growled Soul, wiping away his drool. He and Maka leapt from the roof and cleared the street in one bound. They hit the opposite roof running. Soul eyed Maka, who cocked her head like a bloodhound honing in on prey. They leapt across rooftops with inhuman speed, while their souls resonated with each other across the unseen aether. Their strength augmented one another, amplifying Maka’s senses so that she knew exactly where the fiend was.

  “Soul, scythe form!” she yelled.

  Soul’s body flashed white, and morphed into a helical stream of energy. That stream came to rest in Maka’s hands and took the form of a sharp black and red scythe. She gripped the handle of her weapon tightly as Soul’s voice echoed in her mind, “Get him!”

  Maka launched from that last rooftop. With her eyes, she saw what her soul had perceived ten blocks away: a gangly creature with lopsided posture, blood staining his white shirt. He stood in the middle of the alleyway, looming menacingly over his latest prey with a lascivious look in his lidless purple eyes. The terrified child threw his hands over his face, saturated with tears, and awaited the final blow.

  The monster sensed an incoming attack from behind, and swivelled to block Maka’s blow with his bloodied axe. His purple eyes flashed brightly upon perceiving the souls of his attackers. Suddenly, the kid was meaningless. The creature swung his axe, throwing the girl off him.

  Maka flipped through the air and landed like a cat – a badass cat. She glared at the villain and proclaimed, “Sonson Jay, you have fed on human souls. In the name of Lord Reaper, I claim your soul!”

  Sonson Jay snarled and lunged forward. With a single arm, Maka twirled Soul’s scythe form as if it were weightless. She swatted the axe aside with the blade, and slammed the butt of the scythe handle against the beast’s temple. He stumbled into a dumpster and ducked at the last moment, avoiding Maka slicing his head off. Maka leaned back to dodge the beast’s blind axe swing, and then jerked the scythe. She locked the beast’s underarm and his axe, wresting it out of his hand and sending him headfirst into the alley wall. Maka didn’t give the creature a chance to recover, and with a loud roar, she bisected his back with the scythe blade.

  Sonson Jay gurgled away his last and disintegrated, leaving behind a floating ball of burning matter. Maka released the scythe, which retook human form. Licking his lips, Soul grabbed his ethereal prize and shoved it down his gullet.

  “Mama mia! That’s a spicy meatball!” he exclaimed with a faux Italian accent.

  Even that had to earn a chuckle from his over-serious meister. She quickly sobered and said, “C’mon, we need to report back.” She swivelled and headed out of the alleyway. Soul glanced over at the flabbergasted boy and shuffled uncomfortably.

  “Oi, Maka, what about the kid?” he mumbled.

  “Send him home,” said Maka.

  “With what he’s seen?” asked Soul. “Shouldn’t we, ya know, make sure he’s okay?”

  Maka raised an eyebrow. “He’ll just think it was a nightmare. He’ll be fine.”

  Soul glared at her irately. “Maka, seriously. If it were a chick, you’d be all Mother Goose over her.”

  Maka put her fists on her hips and glared at her weapon partner. Soul didn’t let up, even though he usually caved when his meister gave him that look. He held his ground, until Maka acquiesced with a sigh.

  The boy didn’t speak English, so Soul had to use the translator app on his phone. It was helpful enough. The boy especially warmed up when Soul explained that they protected people from evil monsters like that creature. Then they walked him home, during which they asked him to keep everything a secret. They left him with a promise that if ever monsters attacked, they would protect him. He waved goodbye with a smile, leaving them in a suburb of Rome at eleven o’clock in at night.

  “Wanna go grab some food somewhere?” Soul suggested.

  Maka was clearly in a foul mood after being side-tracked. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t have a hardcover book to throw at him. Plus, she was hungry. So they went looking for food. They found a nice-looking pasta joint that was just about to close the kitchen before they walked in. Maka ordered the minestrone, while Soul ordered the largest Tagliatelle Bolognese dish on the menu.

  “I’m hungry, and I want it,” he retorted when Maka rolled her eyes. She continued to huff, but Soul couldn’t have cared less. He started to sing ‘I Want It All’ in his best impression of Freddie Mercury.

  “I can’t believe you listen to Queen,” exclaimed Maka, a bemused sneer on her face. “It’s so last century … literally and figuratively.”

  “Oi, Freddy Mercury is awesome,” retorted Soul.

  “He wasn’t that good a singer anyway,” Maka went on.

  “Hey, you gotta like Queen, or else you’re homophobic,” snapped Soul.

  Maka scoffed, “What kinda logic is that?”

  “Twitter logic,” retorted Soul with a mocking smirk.

  “It is a valid website for learning, Soul!” Maka growled, even though she knew she was full of it.

  Before the argument could continue, they heard chuckles from nearby. The couple at the adjacent table was looking at them and smiling. They were an older couple. To Maka, they looked as if they’d been married for decades. They exchanged glances when Soul and Maka looked at them, and they joined hands.

  “Sorry to intrude,” said the husband with a thick Italian accent. “You are such a lovely couple.”

  “We were just the same as you,” said the wife. “Always bickering, but beneath it all …” She smiled lovingly at her husband, as if it carried the message across.

  Maka started to stammer as blood filled her face. Meanwhile, Soul decided to mess with her and said, “Yeah, we’re getting married next year.” He reached across and caressed her hand.

  “Oh, molto bene6,” exclaimed the wife. The couple stood and departed, their smiles widening at their demeanour. Maka maintained her smile until the couple had left the restaurant, after which she mumbled, “You keep holding my hand, and you’ll lose it.”

  Soul released her hand, but didn't stop laughing.

  It took them an hour after dinner to finally find a secluded mirror. Maka drew an access number into it, which turned it into a portal back to the Demon Weapon Meister Academy, hidden away in Death City, Nevada. Maka strode quickly through the castle, squinting to avoid the late afternoon glare of the Nevada Desert. Soul kept up the pace, until they reached a door that looked like the very Gates of Hell.

  Of course, that was just their boss’s sick sense of humour.

  They walked right through those gates and into the pale white room. They strode through the picket of black crucifixes and up onto the dais, where a figure in black stood in front of a large mirror.

  “Lord Reaper, we are here to report,” Maka announced. “Sonson Jay has been neutralised. One Asura Egg collected.”

  The figure – known only as the Reaper – raised his head. Then he swivelled, revealing a white, cartoonish skull mask, and a pair of cuboid white hands. He clapped them together and jovially bellowed, “Well done, Maka Albarn! Soul Eater!”

  “No prob, Lord Reaper,” said Soul. “We managed to take it out, easy-peasy. And plus, we made sure that kid it attacked got home safe.”

  The Reaper clicked his tongue (if he had one), and said, “Good on you, Soul. That’s really nice of you.”

  “It ain’t cool to leave a kid high-and-dry,” said Soul.

  “Even though he exposed the existence of our organisation,” murmured Maka.


  “Ah, Maka, you lovely Asura hunter,” said the Reaper. “You did an amazing job cleaning up that beast. As always, you’re an excellent meister.”

  Maka beamed, and bowed reverently. “I am honoured to serve the will of Lord Reaper.”

  “Kiss-ass,” muttered Soul. Maka shot him the evils.

  “Well, provided there’s nothing else to report,” said the Reaper. “I think you can head on home.”

  “Reaper, should something not be done about the boy who witnessed us?” asked Maka.

  “Ah, never mind that, my dear,” replied the Reaper. “If anything, it’ll be a rumour of guardian angels. I wouldn’t pay it much worry.”

  Maka huffed. The Reaper’s word was often final. Nevertheless, she still couldn’t shake the need to address the problem. More and more, she’d been worried about exposure of their world. It had become especially more troublesome when a certain Australian boy pulled a viral stunt involving an Arms Alchemy.

  She continued to fret over it all the way back to their shared apartment.

  * * *

  After Maka and Soul left, the Reaper sighed and turned back to the mirror. Things were about to get very stressful for someone such as Maka. He knew the girl was a stickler for protocol in certain matters, especially when it came to secrecy.

  But she and Soul are still the best ones for this job, he concluded.

  At that instant, the doors to the Reaper’s chambers burst open. In strode a short boy with three white stripes encircling half of his head. Aside from that, everything about the yellow-eyed one was symmetrical. He walked in, but then walked back out. He walked in again, cursed under his breath, and then walked back out. He walked in a third time, and yelled, “How damn hard is it to land on my left foot when I am exactly three-point-one-four-one-five-nine metres from the door?”

  “Kiddo! I need you here now,” said the Reaper firmly. The boy glared at him with bloodshot eyes, which quickly softened when he realised the Reaper needed him. He pushed past the gut-wrenching tingle he felt when things didn’t accord to his symmetrical designs, and stomped up to the dais.