A/N ~ Spring cleaning time! This means Kid gets to clean out the basement of Gallows Manner! This is not a creepy slashy thing. I mean seriously, father and son? Ew. Nope. Just song nice family bonding time. Oh! to help you visualize, Kid is supposed to me in the same outfit hes wearing in the Exam episode while hes at home drawing a diagram for Liz's eyebrows while her and Liz have a "study break".

Reviews are welcome!

"Liz, Patty! Could you get the empty boxes for me?"

Its the beginning of spring in Death City, and for Death The Kid, that means Spring cleaning. He had been planning this day for weeks, stocking up on various cleaning supplies like spray cleaners, a new broom, mop, sponges, and cardboard boxes to help him organize everything stored in the basement. Now, with feather duster in hand, he made his way down a long, stone staircase down to the basement.

It took him a few minutes of groping around in the dark before he could finally find the light-switch.

"Man it's dusty down here," Liz said, setting a stack of collapsed cardboard boxes on the cold, concrete floor. "When was the last time anyone was down here?"

"Not since last spring," Kid said, gliding a finger across a nearby shelf. "And it's gotten completely disgusting. How shameful, that I've let it get this bad."

Liz sighed. "Well lets hurry and get this over-with. Patty, help me get all the boxes out of the way so Kid can start dusting."

"Okay!"

The three of them spent nearly four hours down in that basement before kid was satisfied enough to allow a break. They dusted, swept, mopped, and started organising various objects into boxes so they were stored properly.

"You sure you don't want to take a break, Kid?" Liz asked, hanging onto the stairway railing. "Not even some lunch?"

"No," he replied, rummaging through a particularly large box. "I'm going to finish up. You two get something to eat. But make sure you clean up when you're done."

Kid listened to his weapons' footsteps fade as the headed up the stairs. He wanted to finish everything before stopping. He would never be able to relax knowing his basement was a mess. But he didn't have much left to do. He just had to organise this last box and position it it the proper place. Then everything would be perfect. Each side would be completely symmetrical.

"Hold on," Kid whispered, staring down at the contents of the box. There was a large, white book at the very bottom of the box, sitting peacefully beneath the clutter. Intrigued, Kid carefully pulled out the rather heavy book and held in gently in his hands. An intricate pattern embroidered in golden thread around the edges. The pattern was gorgeous. Detailed, flowing, and symmetrical on either side. Kid's fingertips traced it, then he slowly pulled back the cover.

Written on the first inner page, in cursive and in the same golden color as the embroidery, was his name. Now curious, Kid turned the page and saw, to his surprise, pages full of photographs.

"A photo album," he asked himself, slowly turning the pages. There were so many pictures, and in each one, there was the same small baby. Kid recognised the baby as himself, and felt nostalgic as he continued to flip through the albums pages.

Each picture was dated, and they all were in chronological order. There were some of him playing with small toys he could just barley remember, some of him laughing and smiling up at whoever was holding the camera, and some of him sleeping, thumb shoved into his mouth, and his face snuggled up against multiple pillows.

Kid never imagined his father as the sentimental type. But knowing his father saved so many of these made him feel warm inside. He imagined his father, sitting in his Death Room at the academy, flipping through the pictures and inwardly smiling, and he felt happy.

'I wonder what I was like as a child,' Kid thought, closing the album in his hands. Then he got an idea. He jumped to his feet and, after pausing to align the stray box against the other storage items, summoned Beelzebub from his hand and flew up the stairs.

"Liz! Patty!" He called, stopping at the front doors.

"What is it," Liz called back.

"I'm going to the academy to see my father. Don't wait up for me."

Before the two girls could respond, they heard the door slam.

As Kid approached the doors of the academy, he jumped of his skateboard and calmly walked towards where his father would be, the album tucked neatly under his arm.

When he reached the Death Room, Kid stopped. He let out a soft, soundless sigh and stepped forward.

"Hey there, Kiddo," his father greeted, exiting his mirror. "Didn't expect to see you here today."

"I apologize if I've interrupted you, Father," Kid said, nervously gripping tighter onto the album in his hand.

Death noticed his son's averted gaze and sighed. "Why don't you have a seat," he said, pointing to a newly appearing sofa off to his left.

Kid took his father's offer and propped himself in the soft cushions.

"Now what can I do for you, Kid," Death asked, taking a seat beside his son.

"I was reorganizing the basement and I found this old photo album at the bottom of one of the boxes. And I was wondering if..."

"If...?"

"If you could tell me what I was like as a child. Like how I acted and...what kind of things we used to do."

Kid heard his dad laugh, and looked up at him, keeping a strait face.

"Well what a nice change of pace," Death laughed. He set his hand gently on Kid's shoulder. "Lets see now. Sadly, we didn't get to go out and do much when you were little, but we did play games at the Academy."

"Really," kid asked, his attention completely on his father. "Like what kind of games?"

"Well, your favorite was hide and seek. But you never really got the hang of it. You always hid in the same place each time, behind my mirror. You never liked to leave the Death Room when students were around."

"I didn't?"

"Not one bit," Death said, making an "X" with his arms. "Whenever I managed to get you out, I had to carry you, and you squeezed me so tight it felt like my head might pop right off."

Kid smiled. It was almost funny. "What else?"

"Hmm... When you got a little older," he began. "And you found out about the existence of Kishins, it become nearly impossible to get you to go to sleep."

"I was afraid of Kishins?" Kid asked, scooting closer to Death,

"That's right," he said. "I remember one night you called me through the mirror in your bathroom. You were crying and saying that there was a Kishin hiding in your closet. You were convinced that was out to get you. That night was one of the only times I strayed from the school grounds since you were a newborn. Even though the Keshin that was under the school would still be sealed as long I staid in the city, I liked to stay close by to be cautious."

"How did you get me out?"

"Well, I traveled through the mirror into the bathroom and told you that I would go out there and get rid of it. So I unlocked the door and, once in your room, said a few commanding lines, made a few over-exaggerated fighting noises and told you that I killed it. I still had to stay in your room and sit with you until you fell asleep. Come to think of it, I believe there's a picture of you on that night in the photo album."

Kidd took the hint and handed the album to his father.

Death, flipping through pages, froze when he felt Kid leaning against him, but quickly continued turning through the pages.

"Dad," Kid began, gazing blindly at the flipping pages.

"Hmm?"

"After you find the picture, could tell me more?"

Death, feeling elated, placed a gentle hand on his son's head. "Sure, Kiddo."