AN: Two notes here! First, the final chapter of SALN is being worked on. This little plot bunny has just been gnawing quite furiously at my mind for awhile now and has refused to let go.

Second, this is based off of that small throwaway line in the second manga. "After that, Kid was in bed for a week, and he missed school for a month right after he first started… since then he's been persevering and attending school while going to counseling sessions."

I don't know about you, but I'd love to find out what happened during those.

The letter had arrived in a sealed unmarked envelope and, if her work load hadn't been slow that day, Rebecca would have just dropped it into the garbage. Before its arrival, and directly afterward, she had barely been able to take five seconds for herself with the phone ringing, but now she found herself with nothing but time on her hands. The lull in work prompted her to slit it open; the brunette felt that she was going to go mad from boredom.

In retrospect she could see how it all was planned out. And it was a good thing too. Her most fascinating patient would have slipped through her fingers it the letter had stayed sealed.

The heading was marked with the logo of the Death Weapon and Meister Academy, causing the woman to arch one brow. She flicked her gaze down to the bottom of the paper to see who had sent it and both brows went up when she saw Lord Death printed above his seal. The Grim Reaper himself…? This more than caught her attention and she leaned back in her chair, getting comfortable as she started to read the letter.

Dear Miss Rebecca Braswell-

I apologize for the informal method of contacting you, but you currently remain outside of my normal means of communication. As you may have already gathered I am Lord Death and I am reaching out to you in regards to a deeply personal matter.

Here she paused to lower the letter and think. It had only been once but Rebecca remembered hearing Lord Death speaking at some gathering or another at the academy. It was awhile ago and the man – or god – had been distinctively… informal. Not at all the same tone that was being conveyed to her now.

My son has recently expressed an interest in attention the academy himself but his social anxieties have already caused quite a few problems. I do understand that this is rather short notice for someone of your caliber and that it is doubtful you have an opening for him, but I ask that you try. I believe you both would benefit greatly from the experience.

"Ha," she muttered. "Of course you would think that."

You will be compensated quite handsomely for your efforts if you do decide to take my son on as your client. The only thing I ask is that you do not reveal who it is you are treating; I would rather that bit of information be kept private. If you do decide to accept my offer than please contact me via mirror. The number is 42-42-5564.

"Via mirror?" Rebecca had heard only heard of that once before – it involved writing the number down, generally in the fog from a person's breathe. He could have been a little more specific about… everything, she thought with a small frown. Still, the chance to treat the Grim Reaper's son…

There was nothing to decide. She folded the letter neatly and placed it on her desk before standing. Rebecca walked over to a small mirror that was hung in the back of her office and breathed out on it before pressing her finger to the fogged over surface. "Forty-two, forty-two…"