Finally, I have returned! *fistpumps* Dunno where this came from x3 I was kinda surfing YouTube and watching stuff like 'Top Ten Saddest Anime Deaths' and stuff. And the scene from Monsters Inc. where Sully leaves Boo~ ;-;

p l a y

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They say, that before someone dies - knowingly - they leave a note. A note to family, to friends, to enemies and to whom it may possibly concern. They say they leave it in a place where said recipient will be too far away to interfere, or maybe with a perfect view.

They say many things, many things indeed; they say that 'they say' simply classifies to your average person, that this was just the average.

And if Kid was anything, it wasn't average.

He was a rich teenage Grim Reaper, heir to the throne of Death and obsessed with all things symmetry, insanely skilled fighter, polite and intelligent and wise beyond his years - which, in all honesty, were unknown. Five or five hundred, what was the difference?

So really, 'they say' will do nothing to classify Kid. He is his own entity, a seperate being unique even more so than any of the diverse species on the planet. They have at least one other of their kind, another partner.

He was alone.

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rewind

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The only human-reaper hybrid in the universe. A godling, with immense potential and even greater expectations placed upon his shoulders since the moment he came into being. Few of his friends really took the time to realize what being the only mobile reaper in the world meant. It meant that while Lord Death could surely ferry souls within his City, the entirety of the world was left un-reaped.

And so the burden fell, of course, to Kid.

Even Liz and Patty only so often caught a glimpse of his true life, everything he sacrificed for the petty humans who ran around and blew things up and called it justice. How he lived a false life in daylight, smiling and nodding and going along half-heartedly with whatever scheme BlackStar could concoct. How he went out of his way to help them, offering advice or a sparring partner, sometimes help with homework.

None of them had OCD. None of them knew what it was like to juggle a regular school life, a daily obsession, and the frankly scary duties he mustered throughout the night. He had talents beyond compare, but bottled them up and kept them safe under lock and key so as not to frighten away others.

Because none of the humans knew the very reason Kid had his hated half-stripes was FOR THEM. That he knew, ever since his father trapped himself in Death City, that there had to be a Grim Reaper to oversee the world's dead and dying. So Lord Death cheated his own trap in the only way he could; he doubled himself. No-one realizes that Kid is nothing more than a portion of Lord Death's soul, granted an independent mind and locked in a human-reaper body.

That you cannot trap the soul of a Grim Reaper in anything but the darkest of containers. It will reject it, the consequences being disastrous. So Lord Death took a dying baby and infused it with his own essence, corrupting it deeply and allowing a split portion of his soul to take hold.

And as Kid grew, his fascination with the outside world grew too, and by his fourth birthday he was reaping souls. He didn't dare go near humans (live ones) - he was horrifying to look at, constantly manifesting in shadow with flickering purple lightning cracking ominously around his fists and three red-tinged white stripes wrapping completely around his head. His mouth often looked stitched closed, and the spiky cloak and half-mask he wore helped none.

As the Academy grew and flourished, so grew his longing to meet with a human without them running scared; to be 'friends' with someone, be 'happy' and have 'fun' - whatever those were.

One day, fed up with his unsucessful attempt to approach a student in a friendly matter, he pleaded with Lord Death to lock his power away, limit it. After centuries of playing the cold, heartless Death, he wanted someone to talk to other than his father; weapons to wield besides his fists and his power. And, after much begging, Lord Death granted his wish and forced the stripes to recede, leaving his son a (slightly odd) human look-alike.

And so the boy set out, tried to talk to kids and people at the Academy. At first he was rejected, but once he spoke the magic words - ('I'm Lord Death's son') - he was accepted quickly enough. Despite this, the people feared him more than anything, having heard the horror stories of what the son of Death looked like. Not that they knew why he looked normal now. In the end, he fit in with the adults; he was mature as (most of them) were, he surpassed them in intellect, and they didn't really believe in the horror stories the kids did.

Still, he didn't feel quite satisfied with his small, shaky friendships with the Death Scythes and a few teachers. He went back to lurking in the shadows, confused and alone. The memories of asking his father to make him normal were hazy, and for the longest time he misunderstood them for himself begging for his father to make him symmetrical and failing. Not that he blamed his father, but as the memories grew more distant and jumbled, so Kid's confusion and obsession grew. Before long, he had all-out OCD.

Lord Death knew there was something wrong with his son, but he was swamped with work most of the time - (a certain witch uprising in the East) - and instead often sent a teacher or Death Scythe to Gallows Mansion to check up on the boy. What they often found was Kid placidly dusting tables or adjusting paintings with two rulers stuck in his belt, carefully aligning everything perfectly. His behavior confused the teachers, and so all they reported to Lord Death was that his son was a bit obsessed with symmetry - but he spent all his time cleaning the house, so it was harmless.

This put the father's mind at ease, but not the son's.

Over time, he stopped cleaning the house 24/7 and started meditating, trying to figure out a pattern in his mess of memories. It took him months, but he slowly rebuilt them, and from that decided to curb his obsession and control it, then set out to find a weapon partner of his own.

(See, all along, none have realized that Kid CAN control his obsession with symmetry. He found that humans didn't much mind his oddities, often just collapsed in mirth when witnessing it. He didn't understand it, but was pleased all the same.)

And so he met his partners, Liz and Patty. He befriended them slowly, and they grew to trust him, essential for cohesive work on the battlefield. After a year or so in his newfound partnership, he met the rest of their soon-to-be team. Loud, smart Maka; cool-to-a-fault Soul; abrasive and courageous BlackStar; quiet and soft-spoken Tsubaki.

As their friendship grew, so grew Kid's hope that this could last, he could have friends. (But alas, it was not to be.)

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fastforward

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For humans are as humans shall be: Petty and arrogant, blind to the truth until the end. And when witches invaded, and their monstrosities scratched at the walls of Death City all around, the humans - instead of bonding together - let themselves fall into disarray, squabbling and fighting. Kid withdrew from such stupid arguments, and after decades of leave fell back to lurking in the shadows.

It saddened him, but he could not help them- they had to resolve their friendships themselves. He prided himself on not being so petty, so stupid and un-seeing as they were. He prided himself on not being stuck in binding attatchments that forced them to bicker over what was most important.

But, when the time came and the monsters breached the borders, the humans were overwhelmed and the students' disorganized defense fell into shambles, the young reaper found that when his friends' injured faces turned towards him in panic and pleading, some emotion drew him to help. They saw him, watching with cold eyes from the shadows, and screamed for his help. It took seeing the almost-decapitation of Liz to drive him to help. And so he melted back into the shadows and disappeared.

Oh, how his friends screamed; he could still hear it. They hollered till their voices were sore, asking and sobbing why he would leave them, his friends. He did not answer, even as their anger grew and they beat back the monsters feebly, hating him for leaving them. He ignored them, because he hadn't left.

Instead he'd gone to his father and asked him to unlock his power and let his stripes ring around in entirety. Shocked, Lord Death reminded him of the consequence: He would appear once again as the shady, frightening creature that he was. Kid waved it off.

"You know what I'm going to do," he reminded his father softly. "I need not worry about appearances. It might even be better, that their last image of me be a monstrosity, my true self."

Lord Death gathered his son, his own soul, and hugged him tight. True, the reaper could always split off his soul once again and repeat the process which had created this Kid, but he did not want any other. Only at Kid's gentle insisting did he tearfully comply, waving his hand and forcing the lines to surge past their barriers and complete themselves. With a gasp, the shadows grew and Kid's now-full stripes were lined with bloodred. The young reaper opened his cold, shockingly gold eyes and nodded once to his father, sadly.

The only tear he'd ever shed slipped down his cheek. "I'll be back with you soon," he promised. "I- I'm sorry for being such a terrible son. I hope the next time, my sucessor will make you proud."

"No," Lord Death whispered to the shadows Kid left in his wake as he departed. "You are the one that has made me proud."

.

pause

. . .

p l a y

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The words reverberated through Kid's borrowed soul, and he choked out a goodbye. Then, composing himself, he glided through the air down Death City, slow and with purpose.

His friends, fighting on the ground, looked up angrily, and instantly their furious and desperate faces fell slack with shock. Kid was... so... Death-like. Far worse than his father, the temperature of the air around him plummeted, and a dark inky aura filled all of the City. Power crackled around his fists, and as he glanced down with cold, dead eyes at the humans he once called his partners, something familiar and warm gleamed in his icy gaze.

"Goodbye," he whispered down to them, and they heard it as perfectly as if he was standing before them. "It was an honor, to be your friend."

Then, increasing speed, the reaper charged with blinding speed through the barrier and was upon the witches in an instant. He fought with fearsome power, plowing through their ranks as if they were nothing but ants and overwhelming them. They quickly recovered, fought back, but he whirled between their attacks easily. No-one could touch him.

The humans gathered, gazing slack-jawed at the fight as the witches' monsters milled around, losing the signal between many of the magic links that their masters had had to concentrate upon. Now that their attention was diverted, the creatures began to dissapate into thin air.

Kid fought on, and slowly but surely cheers began to fill the air. Not bothering to turn around, Kid ignored the humans and assumed they were cheering because they thought the battle was won. Then he realized WHAT they were cheering.

"Kid! Kid! Kid! Kid!"

His name filled the air, rallying the petty humans as they once again fought the monsters, now with renewed vigor.

Kid whirled around, slack-jawed himself as he realized that they were cheering for him, and that moment of distraction cost him dearly. A snarling witch got a lucky hit, and the reaper staggered back as the large spike imbedded itself in his chest.

Growling ferally and coughing up blood, Kid lifted his head to the sky and screamed. The shadows grew, roiled like a storm that had no end, and the reaper saw in an instant the source of the witches' power - a single magical woman, who despite the commotion was holding the frayed connection between the magic and the monsters together.

Before the others could react, Kid leaped forward and plunged his hand - (sharpened with shadows) - through her chest. Her eyes opened with a startled gasp, and both Reaper and Witch stared into each other's eyes. Angry heated silver met icy, unforgiving gold, and then with identical grunts of pain they both crumpled to the floor. The other witches screamed and vanished, for they were merely manifestations of their leader's immense power.

The lead witch rasped out a laugh. "Well played, reaper boy, but this fight has cost you too much." Then she was gone, melting into a pile of sand.

Kid heaved shallow, quick breaths, and yanked the spike out of his chest with a small groan of agony. He vaguely registered that people had lifted him up and were hurrying with him back to the Academy. He stopped them, croaking out a command and ordering them to set him down in the small forest below the school.

"But your dad!" Liz cried. "He'll want to say goodbye!"

"No." Kid sighed deeply. "We've already said goodbye."

"You mean... you planned this? You knew you were going to die when you attacked those witches?" Maka demanded tearfully.

He laughed hoarsely, dry humor coloring his voice. "Of course. Didn't you? No, of course not... I knew humans and their silly hopes. Ah, well." He let out a long breath and panicked cries filled the air as his (all of a sudden) heavy eyelids shut, thinking he'd gone and died on them.

"Calm down," the reaper rasped, opening his eyes slowly once more. "You'll know when I'm actually gone, trust me." He breathed out, long and slow, closing his eyes briefly.

"Kidd-kun," ventured Patty's sad voice. "Why do you look so scary?"

The reaper boy choked on a laugh, cracking one eye open. "B-because... this is what I've always looked like." He almost rolled his eyes at their shocked inquiring looks. "When... I was younger, I wanted to talk to humans without them running scared... but they were always frightened by my appearance. So..." He coughed. "After much begging, my father consented to lock my power away and force my stripes to fade halfway..."

"You mean..." Soul breathed, a little horrified. "The stripes you always freak out about are like that... because you wanted them that way?"

"Basically," Kid gasped weakly. "All I really wanted was to be accepted, but humans still didn't like me very much. You see... my father and I, our souls... they're actually one and the same." He cracked a sad grin. "I'm really just a split-off part of my father's soul... given a little individuality. That's why I have no need to say goodbye to him, because I am him and he is me. Twisted, albeit... but that's how it works."

Maka shook her head in horrified wonder, and Liz asked, "You mean the partner we ridicule and tease is actually also the guy everyone in the city worships?!"

"Sort of." Another weak, rasping laugh. "Oh... and I'm don't... actually have... OCD. Humans thought that particular oddity that I acted out was funny, so I kept it around..." he sighed sadly. "My whole life has been a parade of acting, different farces and faces I put on to make others happy."

"No!" his teammates protested. "You don't have to act to make us happy."

"Yeah," BlackStar joined in for the first time, voice cracking. "Just- stay here, kay? I mean... I need someone to surpass. A god that's not just my enemy."

Kid thought this over. "Maka... here." From the frayed remains of his shadowy cloak he produced a book. "This... is the World Book, a copy written by a sister of mine. Life." He laughed hoarsely at his own joke. "Seriously. It... contains some information... on black blood. It also answers... a few questions humans have been asking since the dawn of Time. It's only entrusted to a precious... few humans, so take care of it."

Maka nodded, tears shining in her eyes.

"Soul..." Kid coughed. "Take this..." he flicked a small card at the scythe. "That'll... buy you three motorcycles... from anywhere." He cracked a dying grin, and the albino smiled sadly as well. Despite his ever-lasting struggle to stay cool, a few tears pooled in his eyes.

Sighing, Kid continued, "Tsubaki, I thought..." A bit of blood dribbled down his chin, but he wiped it away and withdrew from the shadows a small golden soul-shaped piece of engraved metal, with a gleaming red stone set in the middle. "Meditate... in front of this, and... it will ease your contact with your brother's soul, inside you..." She sobbed and hugged him gently.

"Liz, Patty..." their meister continued. He held out two gold chained chokers, with silver skulls hanging from them. The skulls opened like lockets, and within was the initial of each sister's name - an L and a P - along with a tiny engraving of each of their faces. It was signed with an ornate 'K' on the backs. Their crying intensified. "You can... use that, once... the next Kid comes along... and the part of my individualized soul... that dwells within them... will recognize it."

"And finally..." Kid slowly pushed himself to his feet, brushing off his friends' loud reprimands and cries. "BlackStar. My gift to you." Slowly, Kid positioned his hands and feet into a ready fighting stance. A few drops of blood fell from his wound, which he'd temporarily plugged with his own shadows.

BlackStar's eyes widened. "Come off it, I can't fight you when you're like that. Come back when you're better."

Kid laughed and rasped, "We both know that isn't going to happen." The he charged the assassin and kicked him in the face.

Snapping back, BlackStar fought back, and both of them whirled and twirled about each other, as if performing some intricate dance. Fists met feet and wills collided, dragging the battle out for a long five minutes until with a decisive spin kick, BlackStar brought Kid down and pinned him.

The reaper cracked a wide grin. "You beat... me. I was actually... trying, you know." He exhaled, long and slow, and went limp in his captor's grip. BlackStar let go of him, a little shell-shocked. Then golden eyes snapped open and his leg swept out, knocking the assassin onto his butt. "Now we're... even." Kid laughed. "Even though... you did surpass me..."

Then he relaxed, and his eyes started to droop. His friends clustered around, tears flowing freely once more. "Maybe I should have... told you my plan, for... once," the reaper mused on his deathbed. Ironic, since the bed he slept in at the mansion could also be counted as a deathbed.

"Yes, you should have," Liz reprimanded sharply, but her tone was interrupted by a cracking sob.

Kid smiled softly at her. "Thanks... for being friends." Then he coughed up more blood, and drew in a final rattling breath.

"It was worth it in the end."

They say that before people die knowingly, they leave a note for family and friends.

But 'they say's have never applied to Death.

. . .

s t o p.

Do not forget what you've lost to the past, but focus on what you owe to the future.

Kat