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As if Kid didn’t have enough reasons, the third chapter made him really and truly hate this book.
The first chapter had been odd but not terribly unusual. He and his father didn’t advertise it, but reapers weren’t as closely-bonded to their birth forms as mortals were. After all, his father had drastically changed both his true form and his shadow form’s appearances after he’d started the DWMA. Add to that the facts that some cultures viewed Death as a female entity and how Death would flip his gender (and that of his son by extension) to show them respect, and it came as no surprise that the change to feminine shape held no intrigue for Kid. The moment he left the Lust chapter behind, he’d been back to normal.
Gluttony held equally-little interest for him. True, he did have to eat due to being an immature reaper (and he typically ate a lot as a result), but he hadn’t felt the least bit hungry since he’d entered the Book. As enticing as it all smelled, Kid had more important matters on his mind, specifically finding a way out…and messing with Noah’s organizational system to hopefully slow down any plans the man might have.
After two successes, he hadn’t put much thought into what the third chapter might hold for him. The pattern was obvious—two Deadly Sins down, five to go—but the third chapter’s sin wasn’t immediately apparent.
At least it wasn’t until he heard the whispers.
“I was thinking about being a writer when I grow up. Or maybe an actress!”
“I’m gonna be a scientist!”
“I wanna be a race car driver!”
So many childish and not-so-childish plans for the future. Different voices at times changing their minds on a whim. The disembodied voices became faceless people in the hallways of the DWMA. Then they became people he knew or had at least seen in the halls regularly.
He gritted his teeth, trembling and attempting to ignore it all. He kept walking.
Then cold metal clamped down around his wrists and ankles. A thick collar appeared around his neck, and he felt the chain that wound its way down his back to his ankle bands, forcing absolutely perfect posture lest he start choking himself. There was only enough give in the chains to ensure that each movement was perfect, flawless. He lifted his wrists up into his view, seeing the manacles and the chains binding them were solid silver encrusted with glittering diamonds.
Thinner chains branched off from the collar around his neck to be held in the hands of everyone around him, thin leads binding him to these faceless handlers.
Binding him to humanity itself as their most prized slave.
He vibrated in pent-up rage and sorrow as he heard others whispering about how they were planning to defy their family lines to forge new paths for themselves. He saw Soul and Anya specifically, both conflicted about leaving families of wealth and prestige to come to the DWMA.
Then came the endless, ever-repeating questions: Am I doing the right thing? Is this okay? Should I really do this instead of that?
“At least you have a choice,” he hissed as he resumed walking through the crowd, chains chiming as he did so. “You get to pick. And if it doesn’t work out, you can change your mind.”
He couldn’t. When he’d last tried to leave it all behind, he’d realized very quickly that he could never escape his fate, never choose to be anything but what he’d been born to be.
“You’re the son of the Grim Reaper,” Maka told him, appearing suddenly beside him, clutching at one of his leads. “Your duty ultimately lies with humanity.”
“You may be worshipped as a god, but the truth is that we’re the real gods,” Black*Star told him, appearing on his other side, also holding a lead.
Tsubaki spoke from behind him, and the slight chiming of silver alerted him to another thin chain. “You are to remain out of human affairs as much as possible. You may only interfere when there is a threat of Evil Humans attempting to walk the path of Kishin or when humanity grants you permission to intervene.”
Soul’s voice, the scythe no longer in front of him but somewhere behind, was next: “Death happens to everyone, and therefore is the only impartial power in the world. The Grim Reaper must remain a neutral party even if he becomes involved in the affairs of humanity lest the Balance be upset.”
“For it is the duty of the Grim Reaper to be the agent of Balance and ensure that the world Order is preserved.”
Kid stopped at the last voice as the silver-and-diamond leads wove around him like a spider’s web ensnaring a fly. In front of him stood his father but not as most saw him: in his true mortal-seeming form with serious red eyes gazing directly into his son’s soul. The younger reaper lowered his gaze, focusing on the golden, bejeweled collar worn by his father connected to millions of thin golden chains. The collar was different than his own: Kid’s collar was seamless, inescapable, while Death’s had an easy catch to remove it at any time…or, rather, to put it on in the first place.
Death spoke again, “As my heir, you must uphold these responsibilities before all else. Every human that volunteers to assist you may leave at any time, but you must continue on for you are ultimately the one assisting them in achieving both peaceful lives and deaths.”
Kid ground his teeth together. This wasn’t his real father, but he’d first heard this lesson when he was barely old enough to understand. He’d known since early childhood what he was going to be and had been preparing his whole life for the title he was born into. The irony was that the title had originally been a purely voluntary one, Death taking up the mantle out of kindness for mortals, but for the son who would come after it was a prison.
“You tried running away from it,” Patty said with a cruel giggle, back in her crazed appearance from her time on the streets of Brooklyn.
Liz, standing beside her sister, blew out a puff of smoke from her cigarette as she stood in the rags she’d worn as a street thug. “You and your dad made it all sound so professional, but you were somewhere you shouldn’t have been when we found you.” Her teeth clamped down on the cigarette as she gave a malicious smile of her own. “And that’s when you realized the truth: That there was nowhere you could go to escape it all.”
“This is who you are,” Maka said, tugging the chain in her hand and making him stumble.
A yank from Black*Star. “You’re ours.”
“There are no alternatives for you.” Tsubaki’s pull made him whimper as the collar cut into his neck and broke the skin.
“Humanity can choose.” Soul’s harsh tug widened the cut.
“You and any of your heirs may not,” Death finished. “This is the destiny of someone born a reaper.”
Kid fell to his knees, hands reaching up to grasp at the now blood-slick collar. Tears flooded his eyes and poured down his cheeks. Everything being held at such rigid angles hurt. He had to be the perfect servant to humanity and must always be presentable. After all, hadn’t he himself said he needed to be perfect?
But every time he affirmed his future position, every time he spoke with pride about the duties of a reaper, there was that little treasonous whisper: I’m doing this because I have no other choice.
He sat there on his knees, head bowed as much as the collar and chains would allow. Each breath hitched as he tried to stop the flow of tears born of long-buried despair as he pictured his future centuries if not millennia beyond the current place in time: protecting and preserving humanity with the knowledge that any family he attempted to start would also be forced into bondage.
‘Or I could stay here.’
He froze at the sudden thought.
That treasonous little voice whispered through his mind, ‘I have a choice now. This won’t be like the last time I tried to leave it all behind. I don’t need material goods or a certain age to try and forge a path for myself. I can remain here and never have to worry about humanity again.’
“And I’ll be just another part of Noah’s collection,” Kid murmured out loud, arguing against the enticing thoughts.
‘A small price to pay. What would I have to do? Look presentable whenever Noah wants to admire me? How is that different from normal other than having significantly fewer responsibilities? Besides, how many humans have claimed that they don’t need gods? Give them their wish and let them manage the Madness in their world themselves!’
Kid’s hands formed fists on his knees.
‘Besides, Father can always produce another heir. If it takes a while to raise that one while the Kishin is running around, perhaps humanity will learn some gratitude. See what it’s like to have all of their choices limited to one: survival in the face of Madness!’
It was tempting to just give up and give in. Hadn’t he always wanted to try other options for his life, to leave the burden of his lineage to others?
But then he remembered playing basketball with the group of friends he’d made, the bright smiles on Liz and Patty’s faces when they finally left the streets of Brooklyn in the past where they belonged. None of that could’ve happen without a Grim Reaper. Humanity wasn’t ready to do without reapers yet.
That last thought brought inspiration and hope, a long-term plan starting to form in his mind. Bolstered by the thought, he moved to stand though it was a struggle to get to his feet when he couldn’t properly bend his body. However, he managed well enough and resumed his walk.
“Good boy,” the fake Maka mockingly praised. “It’s so much easier to just follow the path laid out for you.”
Kid ignored her, smirking to himself as he passed through the portal to the next chapter.
He loathed the Envy chapter, but it had unintentionally helped him, too. He’d vowed long ago that if he was forced to be chained to humanity, he would create the perfect world.
Now he had some clear idea of just what that world would look like.