Dissecting The Reaper

Chapter 6

You all know my update schedule for this is non-existent 😜 I don't have any excuses to make.

Down the spiral staircase I hear my heavy feet bang, crumbling the edges of centuries-old stone with my weight, replacing the falling dust with cigarette ash. Death the Kid follows me from behind, I feel his small hand slipped into my lab coat pocket to steady his balance. My small apartment is homely, nothing like the cold design of my lab with its grey walls and harsh, jagged lines of arrows. I sit Kid down on a couch before the small coffee table, and sit opposite him, watching his eyes flicker from side to side, bulging and surprised at the decor of my apartment. He's anxious, it's adorable, it makes me want to sit closer and breathe in his essence essence which grows sweeter under my direction.

Yet I can't escape the bitter taste of disappointment in my mouth. It's depressing really, I thought this would feel better. More exciting, like I imagined in my head as his limp body lay on my table like a bloodied corpse on a slab but now there's a lingering feeling of dejection. Why am I disappointed all of a sudden? "You should go to bed," I suggest, standing up and staring down at him. Kid doesn't look up at me, eyes fixed on a single point. Why has his thinking escaped me when before, I could read him so easily? "Come with me, I'll show you your room,"

Silently he stands, staring at me expectantly, but what does he expect from me? I lead him to the plain guest room at the end of my hall, one I tried to turn into a small home laboratory, a project I abandoned. Random equipment sits on the desk beside the window, a thin layer of dust covering everything. Kid doesn't comment, and absorbs his scenery quickly - that's what I love about him. He doesn't freak out about the mess, I suppose he's too exhausted to notice more than the macro functions - the bed, wardrobe, window. That all these exist but he can't see the details of them. "I'll leave you to change into pyjamas," I decide. I've seen him naked, but I can't seem desperate. "My old ones are in that wardrobe,"

There's no sense in sleeping, so I make myself presentable for class in a couple of hours. I shower, getting the sweet smell of blood off my skin, which is a shame really. And I pop my clothes in the laundry basket, switching my bloodied lab coat for a similar one and my grey stitched jumper for a blue one with white stitches. I've experimented with stitching clothes to my skin permanently before, but maintaining hygiene was too difficult. I quickly clean my glasses and stare at myself in the mirror, waiting for my hair to dry. The glass seems to distort and crack before me, warping my image into someone resembling Kid. Until I realise, he's standing behind me.

I turn and face him. "What are you doing?" I ask calmly, concealing my slight surprise. "You should be resting," I can't look at him right now. I enjoy looking at him so much, but right now my eyes need freedom from the symmetry.

"Your bag," he holds it up before me, like presenting a sacrifice to a God. "You need it for class, don't you not?" He asks with a tilt of his head.

"Yes..." I say strangely, flashing him a smile that feels more like a grimace. His now altered face slips into a small pout, and he moves closer to me. I jerk away, confused, but he just rests my bag on my shoulder, staring me dead in the eyes. His face doesn't change, but behind that stare is a passion inside him, like a contained fire starving of oxygen. When will it burn out? Unable to understand Kid and his behaviour, I flee my own home in fear. His behaviour was always predictable but it looks the same but feels different, I despite what I don't understand.

Arriving at the DWMA I pass groups of whispering students huddled into groups, their eyes wide and concerned, sometimes teary. Maka rushes up to me, staring up and shaking in distress. She's forcing a composure, but not as well as she usually does. I can tell how distraught she is. "Professor Stein! Where's Kid, what happened? Is he okay?!" I raise  a eye brow in question

I wonder, confused, why she's asking me. I frown but maintain composure, mainly because I'm confident about feigning ignorance and therefore innocence. How am I meant to know? "I don't know where the reaper child is," I state, my voice flat as ever. Not that it changes much even when I'm panicked.

"B-But you were the last one to see him!" Maka insists, and I still don't know what she's talking about. She must notice my confusion. "Since you took him from class he's gone missing!"

"Since I took him from class..." oh. OH. that's right, my brain surges into a violent burst of action as it remembers last night. His presence in my home, existence in my life. Of course, what was I thinking?! I took no necessary precautions to avoid being the last one to been seen with him! I took him away, to a secluded spot and now... I firmly grip the screw in my brain and turn it sharply to prevent myself panicking. Click. Click. Clickclickclickclick. No need to panic. I have time, all I need to do is figure out an alibi for myself, fabricate some evidence, maybe come up with a narrative for why Kid is missing before-

Bing!

"Could Dr Franken Stein report to my office, please?" Lord Death's voice echoes. throw the speakers.

Oh shit.