2. Child
There was no mistaking it. Shinigami watched with a critical eye as the two year-old boy walked with great determination and purpose towards the long mirror. The child's soul was that of a god, but in form he appeared to be any other human. He was an exceptionally fast learner, and many who had met him were disturbed by his ability to know the state of their souls with barely a glance. Weapons were referred to by their type ('Scythe' hoped his little girl would one day see souls too), and he had an acute sense of different wavelengths. But these were all minor differences compared to a life surrounded by the variety of the human world. Shinigami almost regretted it, and definitely didn't relish the day his son realised he would have to leave much of it behind.
The majority of humans had an inbuilt fear of Shinigami. Whatever their culture or background most faced Death with suspicion and dread. The few who didn't were those who'd had time to come to terms with death and when their time came entered the silent lands without fear. Between the worlds of the living and the dead Shinigami had often to remonstrate with listless and wandering souls who were unable to accept their mortality. Innocent souls could not be forced to move on; that was not his way, nor his responsibility. All would eventually find their way forward. Such was the duty that the child, who at some point had ended up being called 'Death the Kid' for want of a name that didn't confuse him with his father, would one day inherit. But, for now…
--
Death the Kid poked at the mirror, fascinated by how his touch made ripples across the surface as though it was water. After a moment, he took a step backwards in surprise as the blank mirror shimmered and refocused into a reflection of the young shinigami. Dressed in his usual black, a habit he had picked up from his father's appearance, Kid paused in his examination of the mirror to brush a speck of dust from his sleeve. There. All neat again. He sighed,
"Something wrong, Kid?"
The boy turned to see his father watching him. He stuck his hands in his pockets and stared gloomily at the ground;
"People live and die, right? We know that."
"Ye-s, most definitely!" The other shinigami spread his hands widely in emphasis.
"It's ordered. Why isn't everything else?"
Shinigami shrugged; "It's humanity, Kid. It can be…messy, at times."
"'Messy' like Kishin?"
"Oh, no, no not that kind of chaos. That's unnatural and shouldn't happen when things are running, as you say, in order." Shinigami patted Kid on the head in reassurance. Goodness, since when had he equated simple disorder with Kishin?
"But I know that Kishin are…mad. Dangerous. They don't have order, either." Kid recalled the simple terms Shinigami had used to explain to the boy those nasty red souls that occasionally came near the city. He knew the child understood more than he let on, but like the truth of his duty he couldn't quite bring himself to break the innocence Kid still possessed.
"True, but what you need to remember is…" Shinigami broke off, raising a finger to speak, only lowering it as he tried to phrase what he wanted to say.
"People. Humans, need a little bit of disorder. They make choices that are the wrong ones, and hopefully learn from them. There are mistakes, mess."
"Then we should make them choose the right things. Then there'll be no mess." Kid said simply.
At this statement, Shinigami looked down at Kid to reply sternly, no humour in his tone;
"No. Absolutely not. We have our duty, Kid, and we do not interfere with how humans live unless it leads to kishin. It's called free will and we cannot remove it from them. Do you understand?"
Kid gasped, wide-eyed at this sudden severity.
"Y-yes, father."
--
He would learn, Shinigami thought later that night when Kid was asleep. He did not regret being a little harsh on the boy; there were some things that the little shinigami just had to understand at an early age. It was Shinigami's own responsibility to make sure that this was the case. In a way, it was something else that had to be in order. Were it not, if Kid were to believe he could apply his one-day vast influence however he pleased, the result would be unbearable. Even today, treading over theories that were second nature to him, the ancient god had encountered something new in his child; the fervency with which Kid had insisted that the whole world be in order. It was a childish notion, but not without its merits. Anyway, they'd cleared up the disagreement, and Shinigami hoped that would be the end of it.
In retrospect, as over the following years he watched this seed of anxiety grow into a peculiar obsession, Shinigami considered he probably should have known better.
A/N - Were he human, Kid is of course far too young to be questioning the world like this. As a shinigami, in this instance I see him as having a different and more advanced perspective on the world. Whether it's good or bad is another matter...