In which Death the Kidd must face the truth.

Of his mother.


Death the Kidd's first memory is scarring and frightening and traumatizing and no amount of therapy would make that moment in his life OK.

He's gripping Chichiue's big square hand in his chubby fingers when they enter a dark room. It is almost pitch black but Shinigami-sama snaps his fingers and the candles come aflame. Kidd rubs his fingers together in a half-hearted imitation but they produce no sound.

He sighs in disappointment.

It is right then, when his eyes adjust to weak glow of the candles that Death the Kidd finally sees the whole point of the room.

"Ne, Kidd-kun, that's mama."

Mama is a bag with eyes on it accompanied by a crumbling statue behind her looming scarily overhead them. Mama starts to wriggle in the bag and a hoarse voice, like it hasn't been used for years, speaks out in the room:

"Che, Shinigami-sama's here." Mama shifts a bit more. Kidd wonders where Mama's legs and arms went.

Shinigami-sama doesn't grace the words with a reply but instead faces his young son, "Ne, Kidd-kun, now we have to tie Mama up with these chains right over there."

Six year old Kidd glances to a shadowed corner where the chains lay, rusted and thick.

"Mama wants those chains?"

"Hai, hai."

It isn't until a few years later, after he hears the story of the Kishin, that the whole depth of the memory sinks in.

"Mama is Kishin?!"

"Hai, hai," replies Shinigami-sama.


Kidd idly flips through old pictures. They have never been organized and merely slid into place wherever there was space. It was a colorful collection at best, the ink wearing away on the inscriptions underneath. Some are faded pictures, grainy with the colors all blending into the same tone, like memories of him on the beach with Chichiue and the soft lapping of waves. Some, he notices, are stark black-and-white pictures so much like the night he met Liz and Patty in the dark alleyways of Brooklyn.

He skims uninterestedly over the ones of his father but always checks the people around him. He remembers another memory of him carrying a photo to his father, young and stumbling over his own two feet.

"Ne, chichiue, who's this boy that looks like me?"

"Oh, that's Asura-chan. Pretty little kid, right? Grew up looking finer than I thought until head scarves came in fashion."

Kidd now realises his father had never specifically told him who he was (or what gender for that matter, since Kidd had assumed to be a boy but Shinigami-sama had never outright said so).

He traces the outline of the child; handsome with white and black hair (looking suspiciously like eyeballs, but that might've just been his overactive imagination) and dull, uninterested eyes. So much like Death the Kidd, yet not really.

"Well," he starts scornfully, "even Mama wasn't symmetrical."


After seeing the revived Kishin (or Mama), it was so painfully obvious that Asura was a male that Death the Kidd had immediately sat down with his father right after the incident and forced him to tell everything about "Mama".

"Kidd-kun wasn't born out of Mama's tummy," titters Shinigami-sama, "But out of power."

Kidd stares, his voice flat:

" don't actually expect me to believe that, right?"

"Hm, well, it does seem out-dated," murmurs the father, "Anywho, Asura-chan was a cute little boy and I brought him up but he just came out so... fine."

Kidd surpresses a shudder but glances at the faded picture in his hand, of the handsome boy that looks oh-so like him.

"Asura-chan confessed his love to me right after he got his 99th soul. He was the first one to take off my mask and see my face," Shinigami-sama tilts his head forward, "then, he kissed me."

Kidd keeps glaring at the photo, willing him to come out. Face this child. The child looks arrogant and deceitful and outright cold. There is no glint of love in his eyes. Kidd keeps glaring.

"Oh, but I pushed him away," he says it in a way that he seems to be making up for something, "Then Asura-chan bundled himself in clothes and forced himself onto me. He grabbed my soul, touched my insanity, you might say and then he... screamed..."

Kidd loses himself in the other boy's eyes. They are golden and sharp, with a certain glint. It must've been easy for his father to fall for a pretty boy such as Asura.

"..and he fell..."

His lips look soft but are thin and in a scowl or grimace. Kidd touches his own. They are much different: plump and chapped but, to his dismay, in a scowl.

"...this light came from inside Asura-chan's core and...

Kidd scowls and throws the photo on the ground. Asura keeps looking at Kidd with his emotionless, sharp eyes and defined face. Taunting him, sizing him up.

" was you."


Kidd's a bit older now, more handsome still than what his father claimed Asura was. He feels Maka and Soul slicing through something and a tainted soul disappears. The dark energy from Tsubaki and BlackStar's pair makes the air cackle. But they are behind him, dealing with other foes, ignoring his presence. They trust him to defeat his enemy. Kidd trusts himself.

Liz and Patty are in his hands; long, silver and powerful. He's taken Soul Resonance to a whole new level now.

Asura stands before him, scarves and one shirt on him. His pants look too short on him, but maybe that's just the capris coming into style these days. Asura always was the one for fashion.

"Mama." The word has a dangerously childish lilt to it, coming out from Kidd's mouth who's voice is deep and rich like melted chocolate.

Asura tilts his head to the side.

"You didn't come out half bad," he pauses and leans forward, white and black hair falling in his face, "ne, sochi?"

Liz and Patty fire.


Sochi: Literally means "son" in japanese.

Am I the only one who sees the uncanny resemblance?

Was supposed to be humorous but came out really angsty, dark and corny.

SLEEP DEPRIVATION. I blame it all on sleep deprivation. It's 2am and inspiration can wait the hell up.


Reviews are appreciated and cherished! Constructive criticism is too awesome for me to comprehend, though! XD