Why (A Death the Kid Fanfiction)

Chapter One

Disclaimer: Though I wish I did, I don't own Soul Eater, Death the Kid, or any of the other characters that will appear in this book besides any OC's I may create.

The Memory Collector: Will We Finally Know Kid's Past?

"I must apologize for calling you all here this late, but I have an urgent topic I need to discuss with you."

It was almost midnight in Death City; the sky was pitch black, glimmering stars crowded the sky, and the sinister looking moon smiled it's evil yet knowing smirk.

A line of sleepy Academy students stood yawning in the Death Room, wondering why it was that the academy director, Lord Death himself, had called them to his office. Each of them had wanted a good night's sleep, just like the rest of the city.

But Death obviously had other plans.

"Shinigami-sama, we'd be delighted to do anything for you, but couldn't we have this meeting at another time? Preferably during the day?" Scythe Meister Maka Albarn requested sleepily, rubbing her half-lidded eyes to stay awake. "I mean, we have an exam coming up in a week. I don't want to be too sleepy to study!"

A certain egotistical bluenette chuckled disapprovingly.

"Is that all you ever do, Maka? Study, study, study, what a waste of time! A big guy like me doesn't need to study for a test!" Black*Star cackled, jumping up to land on top of Death's large mirror. Tsubaki, his partner, sweat dropped.

"Geez, Black*Star, how are you still so energetic at this hour?" Soul moaned, hugging his yellow and black track jacket closer to his chest. Having to stay up this late with a person as annoying as his best friend was extremely uncool. At least, in his opinion.

Tsubaki shook her head, sighing.

"He's been up all night doing exercises, like usual. His energy honestly doesn't surprise me," she spoke softly, as if anyone could hear her outside of the Death Room.

Lord Death raised his large white hand threateningly towards Black*Star, saying something about Reaper-chopping him unless he came down from the mirror. Maka simply ignored this, looking around at her group of friends.

She noticed Patty and Liz, who were both too tired to have even spoken up yet. Patty was petting her stuffed giraffe absentmindedly, and Liz just stared at the floor. Neither of these actions confused the scythe technician, as they were per usual, but what was strange was the lack of her symmetry obsessed friend who always stood between the two girls to maintain said symmetry. Maka was sure Kid would have been called by Shinigami-sama; he was his son after all.

But before she could point this out, Death cleared his throat. A soft thud told the group that Black*Star had ended up being smacked by Death and had landed somewhere behind the mirror, but this wasn't a concern at the moment.

Because just as it happened the Grim Reaper before them wheeled out a strange machine that none of them had seen before.

It was like an old projector, one found in normal school classrooms, but with a small golden dish sitting on top that held a strange opaque liquid unnamable to any of the students.

As if reading their wondering thoughts, Lord Death began to explain.

"This, my students, is called a Memory Collector. It serves as a medium to store and project the memories of anyone who's hair is placed into the machine. And lately, I've been doing some thinking. My son, as you all know, has a very strange case of OCD in which he cannot function when he gains knowledge of an asymmetrical object or person. Now, being a concerned parent. I want to help Kid by curing his OCD. But in order to accomplish this I think it is necessary to know the cause of the problem. I highly doubt this was something Kid was born with." Death spoke with a serious tone that slightly scared his students. What was he planning to do?

"So, I requested that Liz snatch a lock of Kid's hair so that I may drop it into this machine and view his memories. Not only will I use what I learn to help my son with his problem, but I also feel that I will be able to finally connect with him on a more personal level. Does this make sense to you all?"

He received slow, tired nods in response.

"But what does this have to do with us?" Black*Star asked, coming into view from behind the mirror. He was finally starting to look tired and had calmed down quite considerably.

"An excellent question, Black*Star." Lord Death nodded in his direction. "I have decided that since you are all Kid's close friends, you too have the right to experience Kid's childhood with me. And I believe that with your bright minds, I can come up with a cure for Kid more efficiently."

His large hand disappeared into his cloak, and then after a bit of fumbling around he withdrew it along with a single lock of black hair that must have been Kid's. He held it over the machine delicately, and then dropped it into dish.

"We will meet here, in the Death Room, every night at eight thirty until we have come up with our perfect solution. Is that clear to you all?"

Again, he received sleepy, half-awake nods.

"Well then," Death chirped, his mask smiling in delight at finally knowing his son's past, "shall we get started?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N

So I got this idea from having wondered how Kid gained his obsession for symmetry myself, and so instead of contemplating it before I fall asleep at night like I do with most puzzling thoughts, I decided I should come up with a story of my own to explain exactly why Death the Kid is the way he is.

But before this story really gets underway, I must warn you that this story will be sad. It will include child neglect, depression, violence, possible self harm, swearing, and an overall gloomy plot. If any of those topics will effect you in a more than just fangirl way, I suggest you find another fanfiction to read that won't trouble you so.

But otherwise, I really hope you enjoy my story! I'll be updating quite frequently I hope, so be in the lookout for chapter two fairly soon!

Keep it cool,

Stay in school.

Flower power,

~Fi