Death the Kid x You Ch. 1

Death the Kid sighed, his brow furrowing in frustration. He leaned against the stone wall behind him, crossing his leg over the other and shoving his pale hands inside his finely tailored suit's pockets.

How long does it take for them to get ready? He wondered agitatedly.

Kid was waiting for Liz and Patty. The younger of the Thompson sisters was running late after being sidetracked by a groundhog she saw on the television. The other was waiting for her newly polished nails to dry, fanning them in front of her face hastily.

The reaper closed his eyes for a mere second. There was a click of the large (symmetrical, might we add) doors. Out came his pistols, the oblivious and childish Patty with her tall and lean sister Liz. Death met Liz' gaze, the uninterested gape she wore on her face more meaningful than usual.

"Did you really have to wait outside like we were running late?"

Kid turned on his heel away from the weapons, walking down the stairs and turning his mouth down in irritation. "Well, actually, we are. If we have to be at school at seven" He frowned at the annoying number – "Then we can at least show up perfectly on time. I've plotted it down to mere seconds. If you had come outside on time like me, we would have arrived in the doors of the Academy precisely at seven o'clock."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Now what shall we do? We'll arrive in the doors at approximately seven o six. Six terrible uneven minutes…"

Patty slapped the meister on the back. "Silly six minutes is just 'kay six minutes don't matter not a little bit we'll still have 'nuff time to get ready and yeah!"

Liz sighed. "Patty's right, Kid. Can't you at least drop the symmetrical obsession for once and not chart your life over the perfection of two sides being exact? Symmetry ain't everything—"

WRONG. A gasp of terror escaped from Kid. Faster than the sisters could process, the reaper was twenty steps farther from them, shriveled in disgust with a horrified look on his handsome countenance.

Kid shoved his forefinger up into Liz' face. "Symmetry. Is. Everything."

Liz rolled her eyes as the meister dove into his usual rant about how symmetry is key.

"Symmetry, that is what I enjoy aesthetically."

"Here we go again…"

"That is why I prefer using two pistols."

"Yeah, yeah, and we're different sizes in height and hairstyles and boobs. How many times have I heard this? You're wasting even more time freaking out about it, Kid, so keep moving!"

Liz pointed to Patty. With a little salute the younger Thompson sister put both hands on Death's back and shoved him forward into motion.

The team arrived at seven o seven, much to Kid's displeasure. One, they weren't there on time. Two, his approximating was off by a whole minute. And, to add a third nuisance, seven was not symmetrical like eight.

If only we could have waited a little while longer, then at least the minutes would be even.

Liz stalked behind the well-groomed boy, giving glances to the giggling and singing Patty trotting next to her. "Kid?"

He spun to face her. "What."

She held her hands up in the air. "Well, Kid, it's just that you've been a little more obsessive than usual lately. You get a lot like that when something's up…"

Death the Kid turned away with a surrendering exhale. "You are entirely right, Liz. My father told me last week that there was something important he had to discuss with me today. As usual Father was vague on details…"

"Well, girls, I'll be leaving you." He headed to the boy's restroom. I'll have to see to what Father wants now.

"Uh…" Liz held a hand out. She was going to ask where he was going, but she supposed it was none of her business. She took hold of her sister's hand and led the girl, now quacking like a duck, through the busy DWMA hallways.

Kid was now in the boy's restroom. After checking under all the stalls to see if he was alone, the reaper blew onto the mirror above the middle sink. With his finger he formed Lord Death's calling number, 42-42-564.

"HELLO, HELLO, HELLO, KIDDO!" The seemingly flamboyant Lord Death bounced happily to his own mirror, pointing one large white gloved hand at his son. "Thanks for remembering to check in with me, Kid, but I'm going to take this conversation elsewhere. You'll have to come on down to the Death Room."

Kid sighed. He never understood however many good reasons his father gave him, why he had assumed such a clownish appearance.  So what if the younger students were scared?

"If I must, father. I'll be there in precisely five minutes!" He pointed at the mirror triumphantly.

"…precisely?"

"Yes! Time me!"

With that, the son of the Grim Reaper scrambled off.