I'm sorry for the wait. Please don't shoot me. Or worse – don't sic Stein on me. I make a badtest subject.

Anyway, school happened. So I might not be getting stories up very often. I'll do my best, though.

Without further ado: The first day of school at Shibusen!

Despite the unusual curriculum and possibly deadly field trips, in some ways Shibusen was a school just like any other. Every year, nervous young boys and girls gathered at the gates to the school, to wander in, be assigned to a class, hopefully find friends in said class, and then spend up to a week trying not to get lost on campus.

Of course, most schools didn't enroll half students who could transform into weapons and partners for them, and most weren't run by the personification of Death. When most bumps in the night were in fact a corrupted human attempting to eat your soul, that could be, however, considered normal.

This particular day was, indeed, the start of a new school year and enrollment for Shibusen students, and Death the Kid had to run through his mind again why he was the one out here giving a greeting speech to these young meisters and weapons. His job today was to inform them of the horrible monsters that they would have to fight at the cost of their own lives, the scarcely less terrifying teachers that would be presiding over the classes, and attempt to get the point across that although the headmaster and leader of the school was Death, yet not trying to kill them all. Of course, he mustn't under any circumstances, scare the students.

Some days you really shouldn't get out of bed. Liz and Patty had followed that advice, so they weren't around to help Kid. Death Scythe had been forbidden to attend the greeting speech, owing to an unusually high number of older girls enrolling this year. Black Star . . . well, everyone remembered the year he enrolled.

A light tap on his shoulder nearly made Kid jump out of his skin, but it was only Maka. "I thought you and Soul weren't coming?" He asked her.

"Well, Soul has a cold. I came to make sure Papa isn't harassing any of the students. He's locked in a janitor's closet for now, so I have some free time."

Meanwhile, somewhere in the school . . .

"Maka? Honey?" Spirit put his eye to the keyhole in the hope of seeing somebody. "You can let me out now . . . anyone?"

Maka stared gloomily into the distance for a minute before shaking her head and turning back to Kid. "Anyway, why are you giving the speech? Shouldn't your father really do that kind of thing?" "Actually . . ." Kid began, "you see . . ."

Meanwhile, in the Death Room . . .

"All right! Woohoo! Go, guys, go!" Shinigami-sama stared intently into his mirror, focusing on the image displayed. Which happened, at the minute, to be a baseball game.

"Ah." Maka was temporarily speechless. "It's been his favorite since it was invented," Kid offered. "Apparently, the candles on top of the mirror actually make for great reception."

Down in the courtyard in front of the main entrance, the students were clearly starting to get bored, shifting around and muttering to each other. Kid sighed. "Now or never . . ." He adjusted his suit, ran a hand through his hair, lifted his chin slightly and then, without further ado, marched out to the top of the stairs leading into Shibusen. As the new students noticed his presence, they quieted down and turned their attention on him.

"Greetings. I am Death the Kid, son of Shinigami-sama, and for the time being, a student at this academy. As you know, we at Shibusen have a very important duty to the world – to prevent the threat of the kishin from ever arising in our world again . . ." Kid began to relax a little, seeing that he commanded full attention. He let his voice carry on with the speech, while, unfortunately, he let his eyes wander over the crowd.

This resulted in a series of calamities for Kid. First, he began to notice whether the students were symmetrical or not.

They weren't.

The first dozen or so he looked at seemed to not know the meaning of proper hair care. He saw side parts, uneven numbers of braids, and other atrocities to horrible to mention. The next few had writing on their shirts. Horrible, asymmetrical writing. Kid's eyelid began to twitch. His speech began to falter.

"Thus . . . erm-I can say with a *cough* open heart that . . . we . . . p-persevere in our *cough* m-mission . . ."

Eighth row back, ninth column across. Someone was wearing a shirt with a design on one side only. Their bangs pointed in the opposite direction. A further five people back and to the right, a hat tilted over one side of the face.

This couldn't get any worse, except for one thing . . .

"EEEEEE!" An obnoxiously lord squeal cut across the remnants of Kid's speech. Every person there immediately turned pale, knowing the sound and what it heralded. The doom of modern society . . .

"Like OMG! I can't believe it! I luv you, KIIIIIID!"

A fangirl. Of the rabid variety.

So much that she had painted the three white stripes in her hair.

Kid stared at it in horror. They were his, they were asymmetrical, they were hideous horrible icons that hecouldn'tgetawayfromanydayandhe –

"AAAAAGH! I'm useless! A failure! I deserve to die! How can I ever be a shinigmai –" As Kid's words became more and more incoherent, many of the students looked at each other uncertainly. The fangirl had already fled.

Maka stepped up quickly, sensing disaster. "Show's over, you all can go now." The courtyard emptied at an amazing rate. The instant everyone else was gone, she turned around and said "Kid . . . "

Miserably Kid looked up just in time to see the edge of a hardcover book descending.

"MAKA CHOP!"

Somewhere in the distance, Soul winced. Kid didn't have time for that – he was too busy rolling on the ground in pain, hands on his head.

"Don't you ever day that!" Maka wasn't done by a long shot . . . "Who cares! I know those lines might be asymmetrical, but I'm sure they'll fill in one day! Besides, you scared all the students away, and seeing as how you'll be headmaster of the school someday that's definitely not a good start! You can't be bothered by them either – you hanh out with Black Star and Soul and they're asymmetrical! You're the only one worried about it! Most of all -" Maka took a deep breth to yell – "I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE ASYMMETRICAL!"

Time froze. Well, it certainly felt that way.

"You're serious?" Kid was ashamed that his voice came out as a near whisper.

"Definitely. Why wouldn't I be?" Maka sounded merely quizzical, but to the young shinigami's eyes the faintest blush might have appeared on her cheeks.

He stood up and carefully dusted himself off. "Erm. Right. Well, I'd better go and make sure the students are getting along okay. It's nurse Naigus's day off, and we can't let any of the weapons fight. Oh, I wonder if Father's baseball game is done. It would be good if he could help out . . ."

He'd seriously traumatized the students and embarrassed himself. Black Star would get a good laugh out of this one, not to mention Patty.

But that didn't matter.

Maka Albarn liked Death the Kid just fine. Even if he was asymmetrical.

It didn't matter to her, and as he thought about it, Kid found that he didn't really care anymore either.

Hope you enjoyed! 'Twas fun to write.

Anyway, more good stuff on the way! Check my profile for more info. I'll try to update that regularly at least. Signing off!

-Arc