A/N – Here, we continue with Liz and Patti's encounter with Kid. Enjoy.
Warning for bad language because, well, it's Liz and Patti. Also, with this and future chapters in mind I have changed the overall rating to T so as give a reasonable idea of content.
Chapter 6
The clock had just struck midnight when Kid sought to speak to his father, but this was not the ominous sign that some humans might take it for. Rather, once he'd returned to his hotel room it had taken Kid some hours to return the room to the state he preferred. It had been the third time that week he had been forced to do so, in spite of his repeated requests to the staff not to send someone to clean it. He could keep it quite tidy himself.
Springing into view in a shimmering light, Shinigami's happy wave to his son was met only with a brief nod. For a moment, Kid did not even lower his hands, and Shinigami did not miss how the boy adjusted the position of the fingers on his left hand by mere millimetres. There was, he reckoned, such a thing as teaching a lesson too well.
"Well, Kid! How are you doing?"
"I'm doing well, thank-you father. I have come across some very interesting people in this city."
"Have you now?" Shinigami was genuinely interested, for normally Kid saw nothing remarkable about humans. He knew how they worked and how to deal with them. On the occasions it wasn't truly friendly, his relationship with others was, like so many things in Death the Kid's life, suitably functional. Or as close to 'functional' as the obsessive god could get.
"Indeed. They are two Weapons, sisters, who possess identical forms."
"Is that so?" Shinigami inclined his head thoughtfully. While the Weapon bloodlines naturally produced similar-looking members throughout the generations, to have two who were exactly the same was more unusual. He did not doubt his son's attention to detail in that regard, and his curiosity was piqued. Recalling the encounter earlier in the day, Kid's pose briefly mimicked his father's, but not that he noticed.
"How did you come to meet these two?"
"They tried to rob me."
Shinigami was quiet for a moment, allowing this bluntly factual description to sink in.
"Eh, I suppose they didn't cause you any trouble?" He already knew the answer. Even at his age, Kid was quite capable of besting most of Shibusen's students in combat, and probably a lot of the graduates too, if given the chance. Shinigami held no delusions about his son's ability. He understood it all too well.
"No. Nevertheless, it was really rather...odd." Kid paused, twitching slightly at this affront to what he considered to be proper or not odd. Shinigami held out a hand, gesturing for Kid to continue.
"One of them was giggling the whole time. The other appeared to be drunk and not sure of what she was doing. And yet I found them intriguing."
Shinigami sighed and tapped his mask.
"Might this 'intrigue' have anything to do with the fact their Weapon forms were identical?" Kid could not see him grinning, but Shinigami could not help but let some of his amusement into his tone.
"Of course it would. Aside from that, they did attempt to assault me." Kid pointed out slowly, either ignoring or not noticing his father's tone, and continued;
"As a matter of fact, I have decided to meet them again. I feel there is...potential."
For the first time during their talk, Kid sounded uncertain. Shinigami knew what he was getting at, but wanted to hear it from Kid himself.
"Well, there are plenty of Weapons in the world, Kid. That these two are similar is uncommon, but not really a cause for concern. No big deal, see?"
Kid met his father's gaze, yellow eyes upon the black holes of the mask.
"It is for me."
---
There had been no running today. There had been drinking, smoking, and in Patti's case adding to her growing collection of pictures on the wall. Watching her sister light up another cigarette, Patti was reminded of that funny boy they'd met the other day. Liz had been quite right when she said not many had been able to beat the sisters. Patti couldn't remember the last time someone had escaped them like that. Any human who wasn't afraid of a Demon Weapon was an idiot. You could fight them, sure, but get too cocky and you could be dead before you knew it. The boy didn't show any sign of being a Weapon, but he wasn't exactly cocky either. He'd brushed Patti and Liz off like they were nothing. And Patti didn't like that one bit. Almost made her wonder if the brat was even human in the first place.
This hadn't bothered Liz, though, who'd reacted by going back to a familiar routine. No-one else had got the better of them, and she had dealt with the unfortunate encounter by pretending, pretty much, that it hadn't happened. It was getting on for noon when Liz continued to pretend nothing had happened by announcing that she was hungry. Flicking her latest cigarette stub out of the window, she paced over to the crates that contained most of the Thompson sisters worldly possessions. They'd learnt long ago not to hang onto too much, because you never knew when you might have to let go, but there was the odd keepsake amidst the items formerly belonging to other people. What Liz was after right now, however, was money. With her own stomach grumbling, Patti saw nothing wrong with that.
Patti was the first to notice something was up. It had started off behind them, when gladly following Liz as she frequently did, Patti got the sense she was being watched. Turning her head, she had seen no-one. But she had seen that bins alongside the road, which had minutes before been on the ground, where now upright and tidy. Or had turned back at the sound of breaking glass, and found nothing but a few extra broken window panes in a forgotten warehouse. If Liz had noticed these funny things, she said nothing to Patti, simply walking onwards, hands in pockets, cigarette in her mouth in a pose Patti knew of old. To everyone it said "don't bother me". Patti just thought it was a bit funny. As an uneventful day turned to night and the sisters headed back to, for want of a better word, home, Patti's sense of being observed only increased. She knew there was someone behind them, watching and waiting. Liz had ignored her sister's claims, which Patti thought off for someone who was afraid of the dark for god's sake. So when, stepping through the door, Patti heard someone move behind them and span around ready to fight, she did not expect for Liz's arm to shoot out and grab the stalker.
"You again?!"
Patti goggled. Then giggled. Then stared some more. With his shirt collar firmly in Liz's grip, and feet dangling inches from the ground, was the boy they'd met the other day. And although Liz was giving him her very best Demon Pistol glare, he did nothing but gaze back. He looked bored. This made Patti stop laughing.
"You were followin' us." Liz growled, revealing herself to be more on the ball about their unwanted follower than Patti had assumed.
"Yes" The boy answered, causing even the now annoyed Patti to grin a bit at his casual reply, "you could tell?"
"Well, yeah. Not many people would go around tidying bins or breaking windows. What was with the windows, anyway?" Liz wondered, suddenly curious.
"There was an odd number of broken panes. I needed to even them out."
The young woman narrowed her eyes at him.
"Needed?"
"Yes, needed."
"What you hanging there for, anyway, looking so...bored!" Patti snapped suddenly, having lost patience with this kid's attitude.
"I was looking for you two, and I have found you. I previously established that you were no direct threat to me, so you will please excuse me if I fail to be intimidated by the, ahem, demons of Brooklyn."
The prissy little cough he gave at that comment told Liz and Patti that this boy did not see them as anything demonic. Showed what he knew.
"Being looking us up, have you?" Liz dropped him to the ground, and was unsurprised when he took a moment to brush himself down and straighten out his suit. If it wasn't the same black-and-white thing he'd been wearing when she'd tried to mug him, it was an identical one.
"Yes. I was curious about you both, sharing that Weapon form."
"And you thought you'd stalk us all day for that? Stalk us badly, at that. Shit, I thought if we ignored you for long enough you'd give up. What do you really want?"
For the first time, the boy seemed uncertain. He fiddled with the skull-shaped tie on his shirt, eyed the windows cautiously as though he'd spotted another pane that needed breaking. Finally, he drew himself up – nothing being even as tall as Patti – and with a deep breath announced something that made both sisters stare;
"I want you two to become my Weapons, for the Shinigami Weapon meister school."
The Thompsons exchanged a look of surprise. There wasn't any other way to react, really. They had heard of this school, this 'Shibusen', which trained a load of Weapons to work with normal humans and track down what Liz and Patti had vaguely gathered were criminals of some sort. It was the sort of thing spoken of carefully even in their circles, and plenty of their acquaintances were scared of falling foul of those who worked for the person called a 'death god', whatever that really was. The sisters had had no such fears, figuring that their kind of crime wasn't the kind that got you tracked down by that bunch of weirdos. Or so Patti had thought, at least.
"That school? That Shinigami place? Us?"
"Yes. 'Yes' to all of those questions." All uncertainty had faded from the boy now that he'd said what he had in mind, but Liz's was only just beginning;
"What do you want with us?"
"You are Weapons, I am capable of wielding you, and I believe we could work well together."
"Because we look the same." Liz concluded, having latched onto what seemed to be the boy's motivation for this bizarre idea. She received a firm nod in return.
An uncomfortable silence followed, broken first by Patti beginning to doodle on the wall in white chalk. Liz looked to her sister, and back at the boy who had requested something that she never in her life would have considered. But asked it he had, and he seemed sincere. Behind that twitchy need for order, he seemed a decent enough boy, insofar as Liz considered herself to be a judge of good character. The fact he hadn't attacked, robbed, or arrested them was also very much in his favour. Hadn't Liz said only days before that she wanted to leave Brooklyn, hadn't she wished in a moment of optimism for something better, or at least different for herself and Patti? Well, Shibusen would certainly be one of the two. And if she was seriously going to consider this, then she had to work out some facts. Even if this boy was telling the truth, it didn't mean he wasn't a threat;
"Right. We get why you're here," she looked to Patti for confirmation, and got a nod, "but who are you?"
"My name is Death the Kid."
"Seriously?" Patti sputtered with laughter at this. The kid called...Kid nodded at her, and Liz decided that this was not the first time someone had reacted to his name like that. No wonder.
"I am a death god, and my father is the Shinigami."
It took a moment for Liz to process this, because she had assumed that there was just the one 'Shinigami', because they - or him, as it turned out – were Death. Was Death. Or something. Whatever they were, you saw the trademark skulls everywhere.
Kid took their moment of confusion to earnestly continue his suggestion;
"Father's school trains Weapons and those who wield them – meisters – to confront and remove the threat of kishin from this world."
"O-kay," Liz raised her eyebrows at what Kid thought had been a concise and neat explanation "and what are 'kishin' exactly?"
"They have various names, and are 'demon gods', creatures who have, through numerous acts or thoughts become slaves to chaotic and violent desires which they act out recklessly upon normal humans. Naturally, father does not believe they should be allowed to exist, and so Shibusen serves as a way of controlling them."
The Thompson sisters exchanged a glance. The truth was that they had heard of these kishin things before, being one of the many urban rumours that filtered through the city. But until now it had remained just a myth to them. The short explanation of Death the Kid did not enlighten them all that much;
"If we say yes, what do we get?" Patti asked to Liz's surprise, having not thought her sister was really paying attention.
"From what I have gathered, you two have the potential to be most proficient Weapons, even my very first Death Scythes. Alongside that, my father's city is a large one. I feel it will be more than sufficient to meet your needs, far more so certainly than your current circumstances." He waved a hand out to the dim room with its peeling paint and cracked ceiling. It was the only one in the house still remotely habitable, but Liz hardly appreciated the observation.
"Not exactly diplomatic, are you?" She snapped at this brutal honesty, though her ears had pricked up at the mention of his father's city; he didn't just dress like a rich kid.
"Your sister asked what you would get for joining me, and I answered."
Wanting now to punch Death the Kid in the face, Liz instead grabbed Patti by the elbow and led her from the room and into the alleyway – she had a hunch the kid had good hearing.
There was no hiding Liz's frustration from her sister. Had she just wanted to be rid of this boy who called himself Death, she would have said so, would have tossed him out at gunpoint. She would not have been fiddling with her hair, her nails, and casting looks of annoyance and some curiosity towards Kid. Patti grinned widely, practically bouncing up and down in anticipation;
"You wanna agree, don't ya? You wanna go with him!?"
"I think it might be worth a try...Maybe."
"Maybe. Maybe it'll get us killed quicker than staying here would. Maybe he's lying and he just wants to eat our souls. Though, I reckon if he wanted our souls he'd of taken 'em by now!" Patti mused pragmatically with her head on one side.
"Pat-ti..." Liz whined, wringing her hands together in anguish, clearly torn between a rock and a possibly hard place. Patti chewed on one fingernail for a moment. This wouldn't do, really. Big sis was fun to tease when she got upset, but not when she got this upset.
"Know what, sis?"
"Eh?"
"I know you'll do the right thing. And whatever you wanna do, is right with me!"
Liz hugged Patti for a moment, wondering just why the girl seemed to trust her so much after what they'd gone through, what Liz had managed to put them through. But they'd never got anywhere without taking chances, even when opportunities jumped up at them out of nowhere. And that realisation, in the end, made up Liz's mind for her.
---
Liz needed it to rain. Even in a vest and shorts, she was still baking hot. And pretty sure she was already getting sunburnt to a crisp. Grinning down and laughing at her, the sun didn't seem to care a bit. Patti, on the other hand, was ignoring the stifling heat, careering around from one side of the road to the other to see "what's there!" And then there was Death the Kid, walking along with careless confidence as though he owned the place. He practically did, as Liz had found out in the hours it had taken to travel from New York to this city in the middle of nowhere. Kid said they were still in Nevada, but Liz was yet to be convinced.
She had been right to notice that Kid had called this place his father's city. This Shinigami seemed to be the mayor of the place, in a sense, but from what his son had said there were branches of his school all around the world. Liz had been told that the city had the kind of places and organisations you got everywhere else; schools, hospitals, a police force, but that much of daily life revolved around the work of Shibusen, to which most of the citizens were connected on one way or another. Liz had remembered this much only because Kid (she had called him 'Death' once, but this had resulted in Kid raising an eyebrow, as though puzzled, and Liz switching back to 'Kid', which seemed to be acceptable) had repeated it several times on the flight and following train journey into the city. She knew he'd said an awful lot more, but her brain had switched off by that point.
Now they were actually in Death City, which wasn't even half the drab and, well, deathly place Liz had imagined it would be, Kid had finally fallen quiet. Instead he led his new would-be Weapons through the streets almost in silence, only occasionally pointing out the symmetry of one ornament (which tended to be skull-shaped), piece of architecture (also involving skulls) or in one weird case, a small tree.
Having spent the walk sweating and trying to keep track of where they were going, Liz was about to ask why they seemed to be going left and then right in turn, when they finally reached their destination. Kid had said they were heading to his house; it was a mansion. Beyond the gates Liz could see that a garden stretched around the 'house' on either side. The front door alone was massive, and as they approached it Liz half-feared it would open on its own like in horror movies. Kid just produced a large key from a pocket and inserted it in the door. When he pushed it open, it did Liz's nerves no good at all to hear it creak ominously. Kid squinted at the hinges disapprovingly.
"I should oil that." He muttered, but Liz was in no mood to see him get distracted for the billionth time since meeting him.
"Not yet!" She commanded, "We're here to see your father, right?"
With some difficulty Kid's eyes slid from the door-frame to the entrance hall they were in. His fingers actually twitched with the effort of not seeing to this new irregularity straight away. Liz did not stare this time, being too worried about what, or who, lay ahead.
She was too bothered to pay much attention to the house's black and white décor, or the odd splashes of colour from a painting or a photograph. When they finally reached a study with a large desk in the centre and walls full of bookcases, Liz wasn't sure whether it had taken them minutes or an hour.
Black and white reigned in here too, except for some of the furniture and the books on the shelves. Liz's gaze was drawn past the desk to a large mirror that stood at the end of the room. It was at least eight feet tall and like much in the house and the city sported a simple skull motif at the top. It was almost cute, except that it was a skull and so excluded from being 'cute' by everyone who didn't have Death in their name. And even then Liz had trouble imaging this uptight child god deeming anything to be 'cute'.
A few minutes passed, in which a clock ticked and Patti tried to climb to the top of the ladders against the bookshelves, until Liz hissed at her to get down. She didn't know what they were waiting for, but knew it was something. Something moved in the mirror. It had reflected the three figures and the desk behind them, but now its surface had become a dull grey colour which shifted as though the glass had come alive. A new figure emerged from this sifting darkness, tall, lean and...pointy? Liz was not sure to start with until this whatever-it-was was properly in the room.
"Well, now. You'd be the Thompsons, yes?"
Liz blinked. She'd definitely heard a voice, and it didn't belong to Kid. She could most certainly see the person (she wasn't quite sure of that yet) in front of her, but where a face should be they had just a skull-shaped mask. And no limbs to speak of, now that she looked properly, just an angular mass of black that narrowed down into a point on the floor.
"Yeah, that's us! I'm Patti, nice to meet ya!"
To Liz's amazed horror, Patti skipped up to this black-and-white sketch and held out a hand. Out of nowhere, a hand appeared one one of the black points that had suddenly lengthened into an arm. It was massive, white, and put Liz in mind of those foam fingers people used at baseball games and the like. But Patti took the hand without a second thought, shaking it vigorously.
"Nice to meet you too, Patti! I'm Shinigami." There was that voice again, strident and jolly while managing to push its way into Liz's head and her attention whether she wanted it to or not.
"Kid tells me he wants you two to be his Weapons. I have to say I'm very excited." Liz jumped as the one called Shinigami clapped his hands.
"Yes, yes, most excited. I've told Kid lots of times, you know, that he doesn't have to think about being a meister if he doesn't want too. But really," and here Shinigami leant over to Liz whispering with one hand by his mask "I've been looking forward to this." And he nodded, patting Liz on the head with one massive hand. It wasn't until then that Liz could bring herself to look at his mask. Doing so, she tried and failed to not look too closely at the eye-holes. They were as black as the rest of Shinigami, and Liz could not help but stare. Behind her, Kid cleared his throat rather obviously;
"Father, I've discussed with Elizabeth and Patricia what being my Weapons will involve. I hope that we will be successful."
Shinigami shook his head, unimpressed.
"You know Kid, you needn't sound so formal about it."
"Well, it is an important decision." Kid insisted quite accurately but, Shinigami felt, rather missing the point. So, he tried again;
"True, but have you even show these two ladies round the house? Shown them their rooms, maybe?"
Kid looked from the sisters to his father, "No. We were waiting for you-"
"Honestly, what kind of a host is he?" Shinigami said to Liz, eagerly nudging her and Patti towards the study door.
"Come on, come on you two! We can't expect you to live here and not have space to yourselves. We have quite a lot of space, as you will see..."
If Liz had not lost track of time by that point, she soon did so as her bizarre and eager host showed off every inch of his house. Patti tried every door they passed, and chatted to Shinigami wanting to know where she'd sleep and what the garden was like. This left Liz being swept along feeling rather shell-shocked. So, she noticed with surprise, was Kid. The boy lingered behind the tour looking rather left out. Liz fell into step beside him as he spoke;
"I'm sorry. He always does this for new people when he's at home."
"Don't worry about it." Liz shrugged. It didn't bother her; she had held dreadful suspicions of this meeting, so having merely an enthusiastic tour-guide did not faze her in the slightest. She still wasn't comfortable with the whole scenario, but it was practically heavenly when compared to recent months in the life of the Thompson sisters. Or years before that, for that matter. "I get the idea," she began as Shinigami beckoned them round yet another corner, "that he's like this all the time, yeah?"
Her would-be meister sighed and folded his arms "Almost always. He likes people. He doesn't just deal with them, he actually likes them. He-"
Kid stopped short, annoyed at finding himself ranting, and to a stranger at that. What was more, Patti and his father had turned to look at him, the first with a grin, the second searchingly as though he'd over-heard his son's comments. Kid did not doubt that he had.
"And this one, Patti, just thinks everything needs to be precise and perfect." Shinigami nodded to the girl, evidently having been in the middle of another conversation. As though taking a cue to demonstrate his father's point, without even breaking his stride Kid reached out to a picture on the wall and nudged it straight. Liz put her head in her hands; if 'kishin' were half as annoying this kid, they'd be no trouble.