In Relation
A/N - This is a gift-fic for Rmcwalker, exploring the relationship between Shinigami and Kid and the people around them in Death City. As with Paternity, this fic has a running theme but each chapter can be taken as an individual piece.
As I've never written from someone else's (awesome!) prompt before, I guess you could say this a bit of an experiment for me. Hope you enjoy.
I'll be covering other characters and scenarios in future chapters, but we start with a look at Kid and Maka as young children and their respective fathers.
Chapter 1: When Maka meets the 'creepy' boy called Death, their parents end up conflicting too.
Chapter 1
The tower of blocks collapsed with a clatter. Maka didn't seem to be as bothered by this as Spirit, who made much of picking up the brightly-coloured pieces while reassuring his daughter that they could build it again.
Maka's attention, however, had been drawn to the back door that led out into the small garden. While Spirit hunted under the sofa for the last building block, Maka got to her feet and walked out into the garden. Last time she was there, she saw a bird. Maybe it was still there. The neighbours had a dog, but it barked too much.
The sun was bright on this summer morning and its fierce rays were reflected in its expression, teeth bared. Maka grinned up at the face and wandered over to a tree in the corner of the garden. A squirrel darted away at her approach, and the girl giggled to see the small creature run up and around the tree-trunk.
Following the squirrel's motions up into the branches, Maka paused when she noticed a movement on the other side of the fence. She stared up, and found herself looking into a pair of yellow eyes. They blinked at her. For a moment they vanished as the owner moved past the tree. Then Maka realised who she was looking at. The Shinigami, her daddy's Technician, waved one large hand at her in greeting. The other was holding onto a small boy who was sitting on his shoulders, clutching the death god's black hood in both hands.
"Maka! It's good to see you! I didn't realise we'd walked out this far, Kid, did you?"
"No, father." The boy replied, still staring down at Maka. He had to be the funniest boy Maka had ever seen. His hair was black, white, and stripey. His eyes were yellow.
"Who are you?" He asked.
"Maka Albarn. It's nice to meet you. What's your name?" Maka answered politely as Mama and Papa had taught her to.
"My name is Death the Kid." The boy replied with equal politeness.
Maka giggled at this. "Your name's Death. Like the Shinigami?" Maka knew this because daddy had told her. Shinigami had lots of names, and one of them was 'Death'. "Really?"
"Yes. Really." The boy called Death didn't seem to find this unusual.
Maka didn't know what to say to this. She decided upon another question.
"What's it like up there?"
Kid tightened his grip Shinigami's robes; "It's…nice." He said after a moment.
"I knew he'd like it!" Shinigami said to Maka. "You've been up there from when we left home, haven't you?" He looked to his son, who nodded.
"Hey, Maka, what are you up to?"
Spirit walked out of the living-room door to find his daughter in a rather earnest discussion with Shinigami about the park down the road. Apparently Shinigami had taken Kid out for a walk and wanted to know where to go next. Unfortunately, Kid himself seemed to have been forgotten in this talk, and was peering around from his vantage point on the shoulders of the tall Shinigami. When his gaze found Spirit, he greeted him.
"Good morning, Death Scythe."
"Hi, Kid. Your dad took you into the city again?"
"Yes."
This was all Spirit got for a reaction until Kid saw the block he was still holding after rescuing it from behind the sofa (along with two pounds, a sweet-wrapper, and a pencil).
"Is that Maka's?" Kid's eyes widened as he looked at the red cube.
"Yes..." Spirit answered slowly, baffled as to why a boy whose father read the Death City Times to him and was understood would find any interest in simple children's toys.
Kid held out a hand; "May I see it?"
Spirit held the thing out to Kid, who took it in both hands and examined the wooden block carefully.
"It's a perfect cube." He observed.
"Yep. Would you like to see more?" With Shinigami still having some sort of conversation with Maka – the subject had turned to the grinning sun – Kid asked to get down. Shinigami put him on the floor and looked to Death Scythe.
"Spirit, do you think the sun looks cute today?"
"Um." It was the sort of thing Maka came up with from time to time that Spirit didn't know what to say to. "It can. Sometimes." Kami would probably slap him with something for giving such an uninspired answer.
Kid, meanwhile, had found the remaining building blocks. A pattern was fast forming amongst the colourful cubes. Leaving Maka and Shinigami to their own devices, Spirit joined the boy who was crouched on the rug dividing the blocks by colour.
"Need a hand?"
Kid's fingers pointed out each of the groups in turn, lips moving soundlessly. "Is there a fourth red one? There are four of all the others."
"Um…here!" Spirit rummaged in the toy-box (given to Maka by his own parents) and pulled out the missing block.
"Thank-you!" With a smile not often seen on the little death god's face, Kid added the red piece to its fellows and began to, well, organise.
From any other child, Spirit would have thought they were merely a bit precocious, which Kid undoubtedly was. But with his father he couldn't help but wonder just how Kid had acquired such a talent. Spirit watched as a tower was built, sets of four on top of one another, not very high, but certainly precise.
"That's really good, Kid."
The boy nodded at this compliment, adding "Perfect."
Spirit turned as he felt someone tug at his sleeve. Maka stood beside him, gazing at the newly-built structure.
"It's great, isn't it, Maka?" Spirit asked.
"Hmm…" Maka didn't seem too sure, and she paced around the blocks for a moment, almost reaching out for one, but pulling back in the knowledge that it would be 'bad' to mess up the funny boy's tower.
"I put all the colours in order." Kid stated simply. "You see? The red, the yellow, then the green and blue." Maka didn't respond, though it seemed she was itching to do so.
"You don't agree, Maka?" Shinigami had come into the room.
"You did it wrong. " The little girl said finally, and promptly removed a few of the blocks, mixing the green and blue to Kid's obvious displeasure. Having been sitting with an air of quiet satisfaction at his achievement, he now got up and stamped his foot impetuously.
"Hey! You're ruining it!"
"They're mine. It's fun like this!" Maka insisted, now rearranging the entire group with a gleeful smile. But as she did so one block slipped from her hands, causing the entire thing to tumble to the floor once more.
Kid stared, open-mouthed at the destruction. He looked over at Maka who was busily putting the pieces back in their box, having apparently decided she was done with them for now.
"You…just…" Kid stammered, aghast.
"Now, now, Kid…not everyone likes things so neat, you know." Shinigami said calmly, placing a restraining hand on the boy's shoulder as he started towards Maka.
"They are her toys, Kid." Spirit piped up, mildly alarmed by the boy's reaction. "You're welcome to play with them too, but please don't upset Maka."
Kid scowled at Maka and stamped his foot once more. "Silly girl." He stated. "Stupid." Whether it was the words themselves, or the aggressive aura now emanating from the boy's soul wavelength, Maka's bottom lip trembled at this.
It was a reminder to Spirit that smart though Kid might be, he was still only a child. Maka latched onto her father's arm, and as he crouched down to hug her Spirit sighed at the fact the simple little encounter had turned out so badly so quickly.
"Papa, he's creepy…" Maka muttered, burying her head against his shirt. Spirit stroked her hair calmly, choosing to ignore Kid and Shinigami for the moment. It was totally irrational for him to be angry at Kid for some weird habit, and especially for a volatile soul wavelength he couldn't control, that Maka was clearly responding to on some level.
Yet Spirit was equally annoyed with Shinigami for just standing there watching his son upset a girl who'd done nothing more than disagree, as children were wont to do with their peers. Or so Kami had said, but she'd never seen her daughter and the little death god interact. Maka sniffed and risked a look over at Kid, whose annoyed expression had not changed.
Shinigami watched his Weapon move to his daughter's side and looked to Kid who was still glowering at Maka without a hint of remorse at his hurtful words. Shinigami found Kid's order habit a little perplexing and amusing, but had had few occasions to see how other people thought of it. Thus the day had turned into quite the learning experience for both of them. Kid had managed to alienate a young Death City child whilst displaying his fixations, while his father had managed to annoy his Weapon and realise that his son's behaviour was potentially distressing to anybody who wasn't Shinigami. Clearly Shinigami had more to learn about how Kid should act around people than he had previously thought.
It wasn't even as though Shinigami had many human parents around, and no-one who had any idea of how to raise a young shinigami who appeared human out of necessity more than anything else. Was there even a 'proper' way, really? And of all the people his lack of experience could have ended up upsetting... For this reason, Shinigami did not look forward to seeing Spirit at Shibusen the next morning. There were many things the pair agreed or could compromise on, but the happiness of Albarn's daughter was naturally not one of them. Someone with his Death Scythe's personality, Shinigami had found, could get upset over small things rather too easily. But now wasn't the time to argue.
Shinigami took Kid by the hand, saying "Come along, Kid. I think it's best we leave, right?" He gave Spirit an apologetic look, receiving only a blank gaze in return.
"Yeah. That's a good idea, sir." Spirit agreed, adding the formal epithet reluctantly.
---
Spirit was standing in the Death Room when Shinigami arrived, Kid walking behind him with a book in his hands. Kid saw Albarn and looked away hurriedly, heading towards the mirror where he sat down and began to read.
"Good morning, Spirit." Shinigami opened the conversation with something that couldn't be construed as hostile. He certainly didn't want an argument with the man, but feared that yesterday's issue had set him up for a confrontation of some sort.
"Morning." Spirit turned to face the god wearily.
"Spirit…it seems I owe you an apology for yesterday." Shinigami held up his hands. To his surprise, Spirit rejected this admission.
"Not your fault. Or Kid's. It annoyed me, sure, that Maka got upset like that, but…I shouldn't assume you knew how to handle things like that. I know it doesn't come easily to you. God knows it doesn't come easy to me either!"
He chuckled ruefully, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.
The two fathers did have their disagreements, but neither would deny that they had helped one another out in the new and scary territory of parenting. It just didn't go well, however, when said participants were a god and a man whose own self-doubt was frequently sent into over-drive when it came to the welfare of his wife and daughter. The Shinigami and his Death Scythe were the two most powerful beings in Death City, and were both eminently capable in their own ways. Considering their positions, an outsider might find such an obstacle as fatherhood absurd or trivial for them. They could not have been further from the truth.
"That said, sir, I have to ask…" Spirit began but paused unsure of himself.
"Go on." Shinigami prompted, for he trusted the man's opinion and didn't want to drag this disagreement out any longer.
"Are you sure Kid's doing all right? I know you've not got much to go on when it comes to, well, young shinigami, but that order thing seems unusual."
Shinigami sighed at this and considered the man's words. Thinking he'd been misunderstood, Spirit hastened to clarify.
"I mean, seeing as he's your son I would've expected to see something, you know, death god-like, not organising toys or making his bedroom symmetrical."
The last had been a shock to Spirit, who had visited Gallows Mansion the other day to find that the contents of Kid's bedroom had doubled in number for the sake of symmetry. In Spirit's mind, at least, he had reason to be concerned; he cared about Kid in his own way. But Shinigami might see things differently, as he so often did when it came to his offspring.
"I think Kid just likes to be neat. It helps him understand the world. Hopefully he will grow out of it before it impacts on anything seriously important. I shall keep an eye on it."
Last night Spirit would have taken issue with the implication that Maka was anything less than "seriously important", but this morning his temper had eased and he knew what Shinigami was getting at. The world had no need for a Kishin, but nor did it want an obsessive Death. The succinct answer was likely all he was going to get.
"I know you will." He accepted quietly, smiling.
Shinigami patted Spirit on the shoulder with a broad hand, "Well, I'm glad we could clear-"
Spirit frowned as Shinigami stopped talking. His blank mask seemed to gaze at the Weapon, who knew that the god was looking at something much further away. Something, or someone, had crossed into the boundary of Death City, and meant no good at all.
"What is it?"
"Magic. Not a witch. Something else."
"Could be an animal?" Spirit suggested, knowing that there were some inhuman magic-users who used their powers for little more than harmless entertainment. Then again, it would have to be something especially strong to have alerted Shinigami like that. Shinigami shook his head firmly. "No. This is too threatening."
Spirit straightened up, knowing what needed to be done. "Where is it? Henrikson and Zhang are on duty, I'll send them out." He said, referring to one of the selection of three-star teams who were dispatched to any low- or moderate-level kishin activity inside the city that didn't require the Death Scythe's attention.
Shinigami was about to agree, when a sound behind him caused him to turn. Kid had dropped his book to the floor and was sitting quite still, staring ahead of him with a terrified expression. Shinigami hurried over to his son worriedly.
"Kid, what's wrong?"
"There's something out there. Something that shouldn't be." Kid balled his hands into fists and rubbed them against his head as though he was trying to chase out the bad soul himself.
"I know. I felt it too. Don't be scared, now, we'll get rid of it." Shinigami took Kid's hands in his trying to distract him from the soul's presence.
"Damn. Why is he feeling it? His wavelength's no way near that strong yet!" Spirit joined Shinigami, upset at seeing Kid so distressed.
"It doesn't need to be," Shinigami explained, as Kid rocked back and forth whimpering softly in his fear "his soul perception can fluctuate a lot." Whispering softly to the boy, Shinigami put an arm around his shoulders. This was, it occured to Spirit, something "death god-like" that Shinigami knew how to deal with.
"Now, you remember what we said last time? You remember your book, right?" He picked up the thin volume and pressed it into Kid's hands. The boy nodded, eyes focussing on the open pages. "You were reading from the first chapter, yes," Shinigami continued, not knowing where Kid had gotten to but realising that he needed to have his attention on something physical and close to him.
Spirit watched the blank fear fade from Kid's eyes as he clasped the book in both hands and began to read again. He was still trembling a bit, but the pain seemed to have eased now he had the book to focus on, and for this Spirit was somewhat reassured.
"I'm going to get Henrikson."
He insisted as Shinigami remained at Kid's side.
"No need. Kid, you'll stay here and read for now, okay? Don't leave until Death Scythe and I get back." The words were an order, not a suggestion, spoken in the deep, grim tone Shinigami took when being especially serious.
Rising, Shinigami turned to his Weapon.
"What, you're leaving him?" Spirit was surprised, and made no attempt to hide the fact.
"He's calm for now, and having someone else around would only disturb him more. He will not move, as I told him not to. Besides, Sid and Mira know he's here." Shinigami headed swiftly for the door and Spirit matched his pace.
"We don't need to do this ourselves!" Albarn was adamant, unhappy that Shinigami would leave Kid alone, whatever his reasoning, but complained in a fierce undertone knowing that Kid was still within earshot.
"Yes, Spirit, we do. It might not just be down to Kid's wavelength that he sensed this intrusion; it could be something more powerful. It is best for us to handle this personally." Shinigami's tone brokered no argument, but Spirit was unhindered.
"And you might want to take this thing out because Kid got hurt?"
"Yes. I might just want that."
Hearing this cold answer, Spirit was reminded that it was a foolish thing for one to fight out of anger alone, but he felt a surge of rage and anticipation at the coming battle, brief though it would likely be. There would be no compromise, no mercy in death. There never was.
In a flurry of shadows Technician and Weapon disappeared from Shibusen's corridor and arrived in a path heading out of the city, two powerful souls seeking their prey. Neither Shinigami or Spirit knew what the future would bring, whether for their work or their children. There was one thing they knew: that their duty was to protect the world, and those they loved within it, from chaos. And that responsibility, and all it entailed, they knew very well indeed.