Nineteenth Birthday
A Max Headroom/Kuroshitsuji Crossover
CHAPTER ONE: DiscoveriesBryce Lynch's nineteenth birthday did not start off as he might have wished.
As Head of Research and Development he lived at Network 23, his living quarters doubling as his office. It was fully set up, though it lacked a kitchen and dining area since the network had a cafeteria and vending machine. He didn't go out very much. Usually his excursions involved being dragged along on some unwanted adventure with Edison Carter.
Okay, so maybe adventure wasn't the right word. But he felt he should be permitted the slight exaggeration since the outings usually involved him getting into some sort of trouble. Once he'd even nearly died in a thermal testing chamber. At least he hadn't been alone with his fears. And Edison had shown him the courtesy of not hassling him about it later.
This morning, he had awakened at four. Checking the clock, he noticed the date.
"Happy birthday," he told himself, debating whether he wanted to to take a four hour nap or just give up and get out of bed. Deciding on the latter, he headed off to the bathroom to wash up.
Walking past a dark-haired man in a Victorian suit and a long pruner, he closed the bathroom door. He washed his face and combed his hair.
"You're nineteen," he told his reflection as he gazed into the green eyes that gazed back from the behind his glasses.
Wait a minute… green eyes? His eyes were brown. And had he seen someone in his studio?
Rushing out of the bathroom, he found himself face-to-face with the man he'd barely noticed before.
"Happy birthday," the oddly dressed man said to him. "My name is William T. Spears. I'm head of the London division of the Grim Reaper Dispatch Society."
"So I'm going to die?" Bryce asked him.
"You don't remember, do you?" William asked. "No matter. Most don't. I'm here to escort you to the Academy."
"I already graduated from…"
"Not the Academy of Computer Sciences," William said, patiently. "Grim Reaper Academy. You've been selected to become a Grim Reaper. If, that is, you pass your classes at the Academy."
"I really don't want to kill people," Bryce told him.
"First lesson," William told him. "We don't kill people. Well, most of us don't. That's not our job. Our job is to find those who are dying and collect their souls so they can be delivered to their proper place in the afterlife."
Bryce nodded. "So what's with that thing?" he asked, indicating the pruner. "I thought you were meant to carry a sickle or a scythe or some such."
"Each Reaper has his or her own personal deathscythe," William explained. "You will start off with a sickle to begin with. When you graduate from the Academy, you will be allowed to have it modified to suit you."
"Of course, darling, you'll never have one as awesome as mine," a new voice called out from behind Bryce.
"Grell," William sighed.
Bryce turned and saw the oddest man… or was it a woman… that he'd ever laid eyes on.
This newcomer, Grell, had the same basic outfit on as William. But it was topped off with a long red ladies' coat that was decorated with a large pretty black bow.
"This is Grell Sutcliffe," William told him. "He…"
"She…"Grell corrected with some annoyance.
"Will be your tutor at the Academy. We're mid season so I felt it would be best for Grell to help you catch up."
Bryce nodded. "Thank you, Miss Sutcliffe."
Grell smiled, showing her razor-sharp teeth, then took Bryce by the hand and teleported back to the Reapers' Realm.
William looked over Bryce's studio for a brief moment, then teleported away himself.
"So," Grell asked, nonchalantly, "what was it for you, dear? MIne was a broken heart."
"What was what?" Bryce asked, a feeling of dread coming over him.
Grell's green eyes, the same shade as his own were now, gazed deep into those transformed orbs.
"Why did you kill yourself?"
Edison Carter decided to pop in on Bryce to wish him a happy birthday. Bryce had seemed down the day before. Edison had wondered about it, but hadn't pushed the issue. Bryce would certainly talk to him about it if he needed to.
Tapping in the door code, he walked in the room and found it empty. There was a note on the monitor at Bryce's main desk. Edison walked over to it and began to read:
Edison,
You'll probably be the one who reads this first. I've isolated it from Max
so he can't alert you until it's too late. Tomorrow I turn nineteen. Or I
would have done if I hadn't made this decision.
I don't expect you to understand why. You've never been isolated from
The only people your own age that you know because they work for…
Edison stopped reading. It was a suicide note. Horrified, he brought up the securicam files for Bryce's studio.
Theora looked up as Edison stormed into Control, rubbing his face and looking very angry.
"Bring up the securicam files for Bryce's studio," Edison demanded.
"Is Bryce…"
"Shut up and do it," Edison snapped.
Theora glared at him.
"Sorry," he apologized. "I just… I looked at the files on his computer, but they don't make sense." he explained.
"What are we looking for?" Theora asked, bringing up the files.
Theora saw Bryce take what she assumed to be a couple of sleeping tablets. She wondered why he was having sleeping problems. She fast forwarded it to morning. Bryce woke up, went into the bathroom. Then he came back out and stood there, apparently talking to himself for a few minutes. Then turning and doing the same thing again, before vanishing from the footage.
"I don't get it," Theora said. "Where did he go?"
"He can't have gotten far," Edison told her. "That wasn't just one or two sleeping pills he took."
Theora stared at him.
"I found a suicide note," Edison explained.
"But he couldn't have killed himself," Theora argued. "You saw him! He was up and walking. Someone must've faked the note! They kidnapped him and altered the tapes! He must've been pleading with his kidnappers… not talking to himself."
"So where were they?" Edison asked. "You can see all the way to the wall in the tape when he's talking to himself… or whoever… in the first part. The direction he's looking at is empty. There's nobody there, Theora."
"Except-cept-cept the two weirdos with the gar-gar-gardening ." Max told them.
"Who?" Theora asked.
"Show us," Edison requested.
"...not our job. Our job is to find those who are dying and…"
Theora stared at the dark haired man who seemed to only appear on Max's version of events. "Why does he appear on Max's screen but not the others?" she asked.
"I don't know," Edison told her. "But he's definitely there. You can see Bryce interacting with him."
"What are you two talking about?" Murray asked.
"Bryce has…" Edison began.
"... might have…" Theora cut in…
"Bryce has be- has be- has gone off to learn how to be a Grim Reaper," Max explained.
"Go bring him back," Murray said. "He's delusional if he thinks…"
"Murray, Bryce killed himself," Edison explained.
"But there's footage of him up and about and talking to two…" Theora turned to Max. "Grim Reapers?"
"Haven't you been listening?" Max asked. He replayed his version of the scene.
"Max," Theora said, when it was done. "Give me a split screen view. I want to compare the timestamps and lighting between the securicam file and what you saw."
Max brought up both images, side by side. Watching them carefully, she could find no discrepancies.
"They're both the same. Except for the fact that Bryce has company in Max's version. What were their names again, Max?"
"William T. Spears, and Grell Sut-Sut-Sutcliffe," Max told her.