XII. Judgment

Shinigami supposed he shouldn't have been surprised when, not long after the questionable visit to the pet store, that Kid came bounding into the Death Room clutching an item crafted entirely of his soul. It was a substantial advancement from the blocking shields he used when fighting, which would dissipate to mist and shadows if they became separated from him. He was admittedly surprised when he saw it had taken the shape of a skateboard of all things - something he wouldn't have pictured his book-inclined, reclusive son to enjoy.

"I'm proud of you!" he enthused, patting Kid on the head as the boy beamed. "But before you go rolling off, could you help me with something?"

"Of course," Kid said earnestly as the skateboard evaporated back into the ether. "What is it, Father?"

"One of the recent missions returned something in~ter~esting," Shinigami glided lightly over to his usual place. Kid trailed along behind him obediently, but froze when his father produced a sphere, glowing an unearthly crimson.

"A Kishin egg!" the boy exclaimed, immediately tensing as though he expected its owner to be in the immediate vicinity as well. When nothing intruded upon the Death Room, he slowly relaxed until curiosity overwhelmed his wariness. "I don't understand, Father. Why have they brought this back to you?"

Shinigami offered it to the boy, letting him hold it and knowing that his soul was resistant to the trace amounts of madness that clung to it still. Kid turned the orb over and over in his hands like a particularly difficult puzzle, working some silent mantra until his tongue was stuck in the corner of his mouth and the Reaper had to consciously restrain himself from pointing out how adorable he looked.

"It doesn't feel right," Kid said finally, lifting it to test the weight. "It's... different, on the inside."

Shinigami bobbed his head approvingly. "Good, good! Watch carefully." With the utmost care, he peeled the surface the sphere to show a blue inside. "What do you think of that?"

"I thought souls that became Kishin eggs were turned completely..." Confused, Kid looked up at his father for clarification. "So what happens to this soul?"

"Usually they are," Shinigami agreed. "What would you do with it, Kid?"

Golden eyes lowered back to the soul, studying it intently. Minutes ticked by while Kid considered the request. A Kishin egg that was not infected all the way to its core? What kind of situation could've caused this, and had this soul really forfeited its right to pass on? The young shinigami knew that this was a test of sorts, and he didn't want to disappoint his father... that would be a worse result than an error in his choice. Shinigami waited patiently, until Kid finally looked up at him. His steady gaze belied the confidence with which he replied, "I would let is pass on, Father."

"Is that right?"

Kid took a deep breath and released it slowly, his words precise and carefully weighted. "Kishin eggs are souls that have been completely corrupted. Human souls... we know they change. It's like a fruit, isn't it? Sometimes the skin has been bruised, or damaged but... it's still good. I think this soul is like that." He hesitated, then nodded to himself. "I would let it pass on."

Shinigami pressed his blocky hands together. "I'm proud of you Kid," he said for the second time, and meant it just as genuinely. "These cases, though they might be rare, are left in our hands. These are our judgments, and it is our ability to offer them persecution... or mercy."

The boy watched him in admiration and esteem, and Shinigami hoped his own judgment wasn't flawed, because Kid looked up to him so much that he couldn't bear to lead him astray.