Chapter 7: Stripes

"Nii-saaan! Happy Birthday! I brought you a mirror just like you said you wanted."

Kid sat up like the living dead, which I guess you could say we are. I squeaked. Kid would have a fit. He'd kill himself. I couldn't-

"Give me the mirror."

"Nope, nope, nope, noooooo!" I held the mirror close to my body and backed away.

His eyes were molten gold as he demanded, "Give. Me. The Mirror."

I hopped on Mephisto and zoomed out of his room.

"MORTAAAAA!" Kid was right behind on his skateboard, Beezlebub. Stupid scooter, I had to steer with one hand and hold the mirror with the other; Kid would catch me in no time.

"Aaaaaaaaaah! Noooooo, Nii-saaaaaaan!" I wailed. "You don't wanna see!" I veered left into Dad's Death Room. "Daaaaaaaaddyyyyyy! Dont let him see!"

I tumbled off my scooter and almost to Father's feet, still clutching the mirror.

"Mortaa! GIVE ME THE MIRROR!" Kid growled, unaware of Dad behind me.

"Noooooo!" I hiccupped as he tried to pry it from my arms. "OVER MY DEAD BODY. I"M NOT LETTING

YOU SEE!" I was pissed off now and ready to fight. I didn't care how stupid the reason seemed, this was something that would tear Kid apart for the rest of his life. This OCD freak would never get over it.

We locked eyes, scorching gold on scorching gold. Neither of us was wiling to back down.

"DIRECT NOGGIN SHINIGAMI CHOP!"

Leave it to Dad...

Both Kid and I fell to the floor in agony

"Owie, owie, owie...that's gonna leave a mark," I moaned, still feebly grasping the mirror, eyes shut in pain.

"Now then, what seems to be the problem my dear children whom I thought to be mature and responsible and excellent in every way?"

"Daddy, it's not like that-"

"But it is like that Father! I only asked for one thing this year and it was to have a mirror as soon as I woke up. But now Morta won't let me have it."

"Ah, Mort, so you don't want him to see them?"

"No! He's so OCD he'll freak if sees them!" I wailed, struggling to my feet.

"You can't hide them from him his whole life."

"He's going to kill himself!"

"If Kid really wants to be able to call himself my son, he will get over them and continue living. So give him the mirror."

Sulking, I handed Kid the mirror.

Kid took a deep breath and took a look into the glass.

He blinked. "That's all it was?" he asked.

My eyes widened at my brother who had spent an hour the night before lining up his bed sheets before getting into them, the brother who I had to slap because he wanted to do the same with mine. This was the same brother who was scoffing at three horizontal white strips that favored the left side of his hair and ruined his chances for complete personal symmetry.

"Can I hit him, Chichiue?"

"No."

I sighed.

"Come on Mort. Let's go eat breakfast. So sorry for the trouble Father."

"It's fine, Kid. Happy ninth birthday! Enjoy your new stripes! They look adorable!"

Kid practically dragged me out of the Death Room. Once we were out of ear shot and into Kid's room,

the brother I knew came back.

Kid flopped onto his bed and burrowed himself under the covers. "Why is this so torturous? Why me? What have I done? Oh how revolting, how disgusting I am! Marred by these three striped; I am ruined! Mort, what am I going to do?"

I sighed. "Why should I care?"

Kid peeked out from under the covers. "You're my sister."

"Yeah, yeah. I think you need to get over them. They don't ruin you completely. You can still be symmetrical with everything else."

"You think so?"

"I know so. Let's go eat."