A/N - Final chapter, at last. Shinigami tries to help. Kid tries to understand. Asura would delight in the space between the two. In the end, there are no answers.

Chapter 4 – Harmony

"I am sorry."

Kid had been hoping his father would have some urgent need to speak with Death Scythe. That would provide him with the perfect excuse to return to the refuge of the mansion, large enough for him to avoid Liz and Patty for a few hours. It had been a while since he'd cleaned the basement. But now he found himself under the black but nevertheless piercing gaze of the Shinigami.

And of all the words Kid had expected from his honourable father – a merry preamble about positivity being the top of his list – an apology had not been one of them.

"What?" Kid replied, abruptly and sharper than he intended. Shinigami waved a hand, and a familiar high-backed chair appeared neatly behind Kid. Grateful, the boy more or less collapsed into it. Out of habit more than anything else, he clasped his hands neatly on his lap, gazing fixedly at a spot just to the right of his father's hand, unable to look him in the eye.

"I am sorry." Shinigami repeated, still calm, still standing, "Things have been tricky this past week, but that is no excuse for not noticing that you were having…difficulties."

The tone and manner told Kid that Shinigami was aiming for a serious conversation, but his son was in no mood to be forthcoming.

"You should not apologise. I rather think the Kishin's escape is of infinitely more concern than me. Medusa betrayed you and you had to deal with the consequences. It is entirely logical and proper." He stated tersely.

Shinigami laughed softly, reminding Kid of his reaction to the 'extra lesson' that was as cruel as it was necessary.

"Kid, if that was what you truly believed, you would not be here, yes? You, who rarely voices his true concerns to people he is unfamiliar with, would not have confided in Death Scythe. Who, incidentally, was extremely worried for you."

"He shouldn't have been. It's not his concern."

"There are three, no, five crosses in here I'm going to have to repair and unless I am quite mistaken Spirit was under the impression you were, with that temper of yours, about to damage him next."

"He told you that?"

"He didn't need to." Shinigami tapped his mask pointedly "It was all over his wavelength. You must have pulled off quite the performance to scare him so badly." Kid remembered the look of fear on Death Scythe's face when he'd finally regained control over himself, and couldn't help but feel guilty.

"I saw…" He began, hesitant, a rare thing in his father's presence. Shinigami took this opening to conjure a chair for himself and sat opposite Kid, waiting.

"Chaos. Everywhere. The whole world in blood and destruction. No light. No hope." He waved an arm outwards, indicating the expansive Death Room. Kid swallowed hard, all too aware of the wavelength around him, around the whole world. Shinigami sighed and put his head on one side.

"That's not true, you know. It might seem overwhelming, but it is not so."

Kid flinched, for this sort of assurance was no better than Spirit's attempt. Shinigami read his reaction.

"Do you know why I founded Shibusen?"

Kid squinted up at his father, considering this a rather pointless question under the circumstances.

"In order protect humanity from the threat of the demon gods."

"Correct. Neat and tidy, as to be expected from you!"

Kid got the impression he was being smiled at, but did not share his father's glee at giving the appropriate answer. It was basic knowledge every citizen of Death City knew, even if they had never been a student at the Technicians' school.

"That was your purpose yet…you lied to us about to. Lied to me. To all of them."

"It was necessary, Kid. Had I been honest from the start my school would have failed before it even begun. Had I not attempted to create a peaceful climate in this city, Shibusen would not be half the force it is today, maintaining order throughout the world.

As I say, we must live happily-"

"With a sense to kill."

"You disagree, Kid? Kid…?" Shinigami was puzzled, then alarmed at the blank expression on his son's face, consumed once again by his own anxiety, enhanced as it was by the taint of Asura's soul. Ideologies would have to wait, as Shinigami realised this mess might require a more direct approach. His personal intentions aside, there was something else going on here…

Kid finished off Shinigami's little motto harshly, hanging his head as the words caused him to recollect his futile attempts at preventing Asura's awakening. He had put every ounce of his not inconsiderable strength into destroying or delaying the frog-witch and the werewolf. Yet all was in vain. He, an incarnation of death itself, had been unable to succeed. The blasted wolf aside, the witch was only mortal.

Kid found himself chewing on his bottom lip, causing it to bleed slightly once again as his panic rose. He knew the answer, but it hovered out of his grasp, he knew that a fight for balance was inevitable. He of all people should understand inevitabilities. In a very broad sense, he was one. His thoughts and actions both revolved without reaching any conclusion. This time, though the small, sharp pain did nothing to bring him to his senses. Having been knocked out by Asura, he had awoken with the taste of blood in his mouth and his head ringing with the insanity wavelength. Physically, he had left the vault and its damned asymmetry. But in his mind, Death the Kid was still there, rendered aimless and powerless in the accursed room.

The eyes of Shinigami's mask turned down in anguish as he watched his son. When Spirit had contacted him, Shinigami had hoped that his frequently over-emotional Weapon was exaggerating. Unfortunately, this seemed not to be the case, as Kid seemed now to be drawn by the insanity wavelength into some chaotic reverie of blood and darkness. Having a soul-perception ability far above that of most humans, Shinigami cursed Asura as he watched his child battle subconsciously with the memories of the resurrection, and with its aftermath, the circumference of his soul's wavelength twisting noticeably. Shinigami made a mental note to make Asura pay for this torment. The fact Shinigami had not felt such fury, such a desire for destruction, in centuries until the night of the ball had done nothing to dull those emotions in him when he was facing his former comrade above Death City.

In his seat, Kid's gaze twitched from one side to the other as though following something Shinigami could not see. This would not do. It was the nature of humans and gods alike to feel fear, anger, and emotional pain. Yet to indulge in or become suffocated by them was the path of a kishin, and was to be avoided at all costs. And a god had more responsibilities in the world than most.

With a sigh, Shinigami lifted a white hand, and brought it down edge first onto the top of his son's head. He had never struck Kid in anger, and didn't intend to start now. But sometimes actions spoke louder than words, and Shinigami felt the blow communicate something of his own soul wavelength – stable despite its size – into his son's beleaguered one.

The specific technique was not the sort of thing Shinigami had normally taught at Shibusen. The headmaster held that it would have students injuring one another more than was strictly acceptable in the business of training a group of warriors. Kid slumped forward in the chair, eyes crossing. His fingers jerked spasmodically before he clutched his head in pain. The discomfort did its job, however, as from Shinigami's perspective Kid's wavelength shuddered with the violent intrusion before stabilising just slightly. Now, Kid looked right up at his father, now his gaze was sharp with a clarity it had lacked for days.

--

To some extent, Kid had always been attuned to his father's soul wavelength. Firstly, they were of the same kind as father and son, and secondly he had spent much of his childhood inside Death City, well within the circumference of Shinigami's soul. Having been born with the ability to perceive souls, the young Death had grown accustomed to the pervasive presence of his father out of a matter of necessity more than anything else. Getting Shinigami Chopped by him was not something Kid was familiar with. Feeling as though his very skull was rattling at the blow, Kid cursed silently with his hands clamped over his head. But, however eccentric his father's methods were, they seemed to have worked. Yet again.

Almost instantaneously, the insanity wavelength that had so plagued Kid for days faded into the background. Kid relished the sublime relief, and felt more than a little pride at the thought that Asura, a so-called 'demon god', was forced to succumb even temporarily to the power of death's own soul. Kid had a headache, but he decided it was a small price to pay.

"Feeling better?" Shinigami asked him cheerily, mood brightened by Kid's expression. He gave no outward indication that the strike could have done more harm than good, and indeed only worked at all because their souls were so similar.

"You hit me, father." Kid pointed out, matter-of-fact. "But, yes, I do feel slightly…clearer. Thank-you." The young shinigami bowed respectfully, his physical tension showing in the movement. Shinigami reached over and placed a hand on Kid's head in an awkward gesture of affection.

"Honestly, how many times have I told you there's no need for that?" He muttered softly, perhaps feeling the need to emphasise that this was no time for cold formality. Kid said nothing, for his attitude towards his father was an old habit and not one he sought to change, no matter what the Shinigami said.

They were quiet for a moment. Kid had never been one to openly express fear or upset to his father, which was why his hesitant explanation had alerted Shinigami to the severity of the situation. Now, the father was content to watch his son as he calmed down, his soul wavelength losing much of the tension that from this distance Shinigami could tell had built up over days and nights of worry.

"You realise that is temporary? I repelled the effect of Asura's wavelength from you for the time being, but it will return, and sooner than I'd like. I…can't help that, I'm afraid." He admitted apologetically. "It is in the nature of Asura's insanity to seep into the minds and souls of every living thing. Even us."

"How, then, can Shibusen maintain harmony?" Kid wondered about a lasting question, but it was from curiosity alone for his voice carried nothing of the cynicism he'd earlier expressed.

Shinigami stood up and walked over to the mirror. Kid followed as he had done many times before.

"We maintain it in ourselves: in our actions, in our feelings, in how we deal with them both. Harmony, Kid, has the same source in life on earth as chaos does."

Shinigami reached out, and put one hand on Kid's chest. The boy sighed and briefly put one hand over his father's in a silent show of appreciation.

"My soul. It seems so…simple. Neat."

This time, though, Kid felt it, as though his father's intervention had lifted a deathly shroud from his mind and soul. He had felt numb, and now he felt if not fully alive, but more focussed. And in Kid's mind it was the best way to be. For now, and for however long this feeling would last. Maybe he could try to return to his daily life. Maybe.

Again there was the sense Shinigami was smiling at Kid. "I thought you might say so!"

"It is a neat paradigm." Kid agreed with a vigour that delighted Shinigami, though he did not interrupt. "Both of us exist to ensure death. Your Technicians, your Death Scythes," Here he reminded himself he owed Spirit an apology "all work together, each in harmony with their own souls. That is perfection of a sort."

The boy's eyes seemed to shine with the moment of epiphany. It was a small realisation, transient and all too easy to disrupt, but it was there. And for the moment, Shinigami knew, it was all his son needed. He had reinforced the principles he knew so well, as Spirit had attempted, because it was all Shinigami could do for his son.

Neither Shinigami nor Death Scythe could had given Death the Kid miraculous understanding, nor a lasting sense of peace, for there was none to be found. All Shinigami could give, all any of them could cling onto as Asura's madness raged was a way to cope, a path to follow in this much-changed world. Even as they headed for a new kind of grim era.

The End