CHAPTER ONE

The crooked smile of the moon

Chrona awoke from yet another nightmare. They were less frequent now yet she'd still have one every night. She awoke five times on average, whether it was Ragnarok's pranks, her insomnia or just her nightmares about Medusa-sama, she couldn't reconcile sleep as easily as she should. The nights were always more peaceful in Shibusen, especially since Kid had given her curtains for her room, hiding the bloody grin from the laughing moon at night and keeping the sun's pants at bay during the day...and also to hide the cracks in the walls that made them so...what was that word he kept muttering in disgust?...Asymmetrical...

She smiled, un admittedly she liked to see Kid's hysterics, yet was too withdrawn to provoke his OCD. Snaking a thin hand under her pillow she pulled out a soft piece of fabric, an embroidered handkerchief. Simple and of course symmetrical, her blood stains broke the 'clean and perfect' beauty of the fabric. She smiled slightly, a sideway tug on the corner of her lips, the logo of the Shinigami was embroidered on all four corners.

o0o0o0o

After they all sat around the table and ate some snacks the din started, they all congratulated Ragnarok, who accepted the complements and attention with pleasure. Chrona was his silent shadow and she sat still in silence trying to move away from the crowd but unable to.

-Chrona, is everything alright? You haven't eaten.-

Polite and poised he moved towards her trying to see beyond the shadows that covered her lowered face. Meanwhile everybody laughed boisterously, giggled or just smiled. Tsubaki giggled with Maka as they ate the cookies Soul had made earlier. Soul sat his feet propped on the couch were the girls sat, in his best uninterested pose yet smiling at all those people around him, his best friends. Paty was forcing her hat on a reluctant Black Star that in the end let her have her way, his blush visible even against his tan skin, earning another round of laughter.

Chrona muttered something yet Liz passed behind the chair she was in; yelling at Ragnarok for eating her favorite nail polish, trying in vain to strangle his huge neck that just gave away beneath her hands, turning into liquid, as he grinned madly with his pink spotted teeth. Kid's eye started twitching once he saw that Paty's nails were not finished, her left hand's three last fingers were still natural color! Yet he contained himself when he noticed Chrona's face, half covered in dried black blood. Without thinking he took his handkerchief from his back pocket and extended it to her.

She looked up completely clueless, so he took a water bottle from the table before them, ignored Liz's tantrum heroically as she went to Maka's room to use her nail polish instead. Moistening the fabric with the liquid he leaned down and slowly, carefully he approached her. She looked at him with big, deer-in-headlights, ice blue eyes; frightened it seemed that he would hurt her. Preposterous, she was more capable of hurting him than the other way around... He paused, let her relax and then carefully tapped away at the blood until her face was clean once more. Wiping away one last droplet he distractedly brushed her hair out of her forehead with the side of his hand...to get those...those...asymmetrical locks away...far, far away before the urge to fix them would overcome him.

-Oi teme! OCD dude! That is my property you're touching!... besides I could have just absorbed that blood before OK? Keep your perfectionist hands off Chrona before I make her kick your skinny a-

-Ragnarok, chocolaaaate~

The piece of candy flew across the room and was captured by a slobbering red tongue...and just like that the conflict was forgotten. Kid shook his head slightly, the absurdity of the matter striking him as comical. No matter how nasty were the things that came out of Ragnarok's mouth he could never see anything past his beautiful symmetry, he sometimes found the consequences of his obsession laughable. He turned to leave yet something stopped him...

-A-arigatou Shinigami-san...- Chrona was hunched so strangely you couldn't really tell she had actually stood from the chair. Her thin frame crooked by her nervousness her extended hand shaking copiously holding out a bloodstained handkerchief.

-It's fine. I haven't really used it and, right now, you need it more than I do. Keep it- The last words came out gently, he didn't want to frighten her. Now that he understood her past a little, he figured she deserved some friends to treat her well...make up for all the time that mad woman took away...

o0o0o0o0o

Chrona let the fabric brush her cheek and felt strangely comforted. Here in her home...she felt as if all the things that had happened before were worth it...just to be here with her friends. She was one of them, they treated her so nice. They cared about her... Ragnarok stirred within her before ripping his way out her back. He made for the white little thing inside her palm. Stunned into standing still Ragnarok stared unbelieving at the clenched fist that had become Chrona's hand. He was perplexed at her determination, her fear quivered deep in her soul, yet there was something more, over-riding the trembling; it was courage, determination. He tried to keep his façade but at this point in time that wasn't necessary anymore. He tugged at her hair and loomed over her, his upside-down X'd glare meeting her unwavering crystal eyes.

-Bed, NOW...baka...we have training to do tomorrow. If you're not rested I'll kick your ass so fast it won't even be fun anymore-

She blushed, gratefulness emanating from her very pore.

-Ha-HAI!...Ragnarok...-

-Mn?-

-Arigatou...-

As she rolled on to her side cupping the handkerchief between her lithe fingers, Ragnarok took the bed sheets and threw them carelessly over her, covering her, head and all. She wiggled out until her eyes were peeking above the gray sheets. Her eyes arched upward smiling, yet he pretended not to see them as she curled up into a ball and he loomed behind her body wrapping her shape in his shadow until she finally drifted off to sleep...and for once her dreams weren't that bad.

The laughing moon wiggled evilly in the sky, slowly falling into the horizon as a silhouette stood by the window. Staring at the monochromatic figure that loomed over the sleeping girl. He leaned down, closing in to kiss her hair yet pulled back fast and instead he placed the sheets over her and made sure she was snug and warm before fading into her bloodstream once more.

The dark silhouette wiggled with silent laughter, opening its eyes from under the brim of a great hat, shining yellow, two glimmering coins...gone in a second with a swish of her furry tail.

As the pink haired Demon Sword wielder drifted into the dream world, not far from there the son of the death god awoke groggily. He thought he'd already checked...yet the thought didn't let him sleep...had he closed the closet doors perfectly? Was the toilet paper folded correctly? Was the book shelf too far left? What about his shoes- AAAAARGH!

He screamed mentally as he rubbed his hair fast enough for his fingertips to ache, he was too exhausted to get up from the bed yet...NO...this had to stop, his mind hadn't been working properly because of lack of sleep. How could he become a real Shinigami if he kept letting every detail slow him down...it frustrated him to no end...yet he couldn't help himself, it was something that overcame his sense of reason. He tried to think about something...anything symmetrical to ease his urge...His beautiful guns! So shiny, shooting symmetrical bulle- Their breasts are uneven...GYAAAAA! He rubbed his hair furiously, probably fast enough to light a small fire... That's it! His father's mask!...yet the rest of him...Oh well, he still loved him anyway...wow he really loved him...(The image of his unstable body filled his head)

Then an image of Ragnarok appeared in his head...easing all his troubles. He'd never seen a weapon so symmetrical once transformed or in original form. Without mentioning the fact he could probably transform into just about anything! A number eight! The prefect number! Somehow both images jumbled in his head and still managed to look symmetrical...He was in heaven. The excitement was such his heart was racing yet it calmed him from his previous anxiety. He put his hands on his stomach laying perfectly in the center of his bed, on his back, the image of perfection yet not of comfort.

Symmetry or no he lacked the comfort he kept wanting for inside the beauty of perfection...but things were rarely perfect unless he made them so. Would this mean he would spend the rest of his eternal life as a Shinigami trying to make the world perfect? He would never, he could never be able to fully attend to his people's needs if thoughts about the angle of the picture frames at home would distract him so easily. He needed to give his all to his duty, not to his obsession...yet how to escape something that comes from within?

His mind kept wandering, drowning in mid-sleep and the usual worries that kept filling his head more with each passing day. Scenes of the day began to jumble in his mind as his body was slowly claimed by sleep. Ragnarok, so perfect...under his shadow a face peered into his. And he was filled with a strange warm sensation, the feeling he briefly experienced once he fixed something and made it symmetrical, that ephemeral feeling he kept seeking inside perfection...finally he felt comfort. Yet it faded into sleep as he did, his hand drifting from his tight pose until it touched the white lines in his hair as if to scratch them. In the morning he would remember nothing...that face was the last thing he saw before losing his body to Morpheus, oddly jagged frame containing a symmetrical face, yet that didn't seem to matter. Symmetry or no...comfort truly was beautiful.

To be continued...