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Despite the steadily improving relations between the Witches and the DWMA, there are still a number of members within the community unhappy with the alliance. It was rare that these witches resorted to treason but that did not mean such cases did not happen. It was expected if Kid was being honest, and it had already been discussed with Mabaa to allow the DWMA to hunt these witches if the problem grew out of hand on the condition that their souls ultimately ended up with Kid, where he would place them to rest.
This meant that, when the truce was still tentative and fragile, if a witch decided to cause trouble, it was Kid who had to go out and hunt them down. All the meisters and weapons whom he trusted were far too busy taking care of the remaining madness left by Asura and it simply wasn’t worth the risk to send unknown students from the DWMA. If even one of them disobeyed or made a mistake, then the truce would be null.
However, the number of rebelling factions slowly began to decrease over time as the Witches soon realized that this alliance wasn’t going to be temporary. Perhaps, because they understood that he was earnest in his wishes to build a strong and lasting truce within his and their community, even if that meant occupying his days chasing after every witch who committed treason. Whether that meant that they stopped out of fear of his retaliation or out of newfound faith, Kid didn’t have the slightest clue but at least he didn’t need to be out on such cases so often.
That did not necessarily mean that there were none though. Like all things, there were always exceptions, which was why he was chasing after a witch through a dark, shadowed forest with Black Star and Maka right at his tail instead of practising new tricks on Beelzebub.
“Over there!” Maka shouts, pointing towards a mangled shadow. She doesn’t wait for them, using Soul to swing across, venturing further into the woods.
Unhinged giggles echo throughout, bouncing off the army of thick and twisted trees. The gnarled, elongating branches are a nuisance to Kid, blocking his view like clawed fingers reaching to dig deep into his skin. Each time he thinks he has a shot, the witch dives across a new tree just in time to avoid the trail of bullets flying towards her.
“This is getting real annoying,” Black Star whines. Yet despite that, Kid sees his face gleaming bright with unbridled delight as he jumps and spins across branch after branch. He wishes he could indulge in the same childlike wonder but the thick scent of damp earth and decay prickles unpleasantly underneath his nose, a nauseating perfume shrouding beneath the canopy.
“Kitty, kitty. Cat, cat.”
A sudden bright light shoots towards Maka’s unsuspecting back. His eyes widen as he digs his heels into the trunk of a tree, using the rough surface to propel himself forward. He crashes into her, knocking her out of the way just in time to release Liz and Patty before the spell can hit them as well.
He feels the magic wash over him; limbs shift and contort, caught within the throes of witchcraft while fur unfurls across every inch of skin. In the background, he hears the witch screech as Maka and Black Star finally catch up to her and sees a burst of pink light as both Liz and Patty transform.
He’s falling, air rushing beneath him as he scrambles to his feet. Something isn’t right. Everything seems larger, and his perspective is now a blur of muted colours, a palette of grey save for shades of blue and yellow.
When he lands, he’s on all fours. Except, it doesn’t feel that way. He looks down at himself and nearly jumps when he sees black and white fur instead of skin.
“Kid!” Liz’s panicked voice sounds much louder than usual, piercing his sensitive ears. Kid hisses softly.
“You’re a cat!” She bundles him in her arms, easily lifting him up. Kid lets her, far too confused to protest.
Leaves crunch and rustle, signalling rushed footsteps. Two pairs. His sensitive ears make it easy to tell apart the two and he easily identifies which belongs to whom.
“Kid, are you okay?” Maka asks, concerned. She’s far enough that she can’t see him in Liz’s arms but close enough to notice the absence of Kid’s body.
He tries to speak only to hear a soft meow instead. Next to Liz, Patty giggles at him.
“That cat looks like Kid!” Black Star says. He peers at him with wide eyes, leaning uncomfortably close. Shamelessly, he grabs one of Kid’s paws, pressing onto the cushioned pads to reveal glinting sharp claws. Kid can’t help himself — he swats at Black Star’s nose.
The assassin yelps, jumping back and clutching his nose as Maka skids to a stop, staring warily at a respectable distance.
“I think that cat is Kid,” Maka says, though she sounds half uncertain herself. Kid meows again, nodding as best he can in agreement. She startles, knuckles turning white as she grips her scythe tighter. “Is this permanent? Why did you push me out of the way, Kid? You can’t be Lord Death when you’re like this!”
Guilt crosses her face, visible in every aspect of her frown. She reads like an open book and Kid can see Maka beginning to berate herself in her mind. He jumps out of Liz’s arms, finding an untouched patch of ground, then begins scratching out a message.
The process is a long and arduous one, his short limbs struggling to spell out each word in a legible manner. As he writes down the letter G, Kid battles with the urge to restart when it ends up slanted and uneven but successfully tamps it down, moving along.
His friends are silent as he writes. Even Black Star is quietly observing though Kid suspects that might have to do with Tsubaki, rather than the kindness of his heart.
When he’s done, Kid steps back. He doesn’t look at his message, out of fear he’ll end up wanting to rewrite it again. Instead, he reverts his attention back to his friends. They look like towers looming over him in his current state.
“Shinigami. Temporary?” Maka reads aloud.
Liz brightens as she clicks the pieces together. “Since you’re a Shinigami, it’s guaranteed to be temporary. You didn’t want to risk that with Maka. Am I right?”
Kid meows out his approval. It’s true; he already feels his body working to wash away the magic and figures that it'll only be a matter of time before he transforms back into his human form. If it were to happen to Maka, Kid wasn’t sure how long the spell would last, or if it would even be temporary in the first place. Liz grins, pleased and goes to pick him up. He doesn’t hesitate to hop into her arms — craning his short neck in order to look at his friends has been causing a strain. Kid didn’t even know cats could have strains.
“So it’s temporary. What a relief.” Maka sighs. “Thank you, Kid.”
He tries to speak again, only to release yet another meow instead. How annoying.
“I want to hold him,” Patty demands, snatching him away from Liz’s hands before her sister could even think to answer. She presses him close to her chest, burying her face into his fur. “You’re super soft. It’s sort of like a plushie.”
He isn’t sure how to feel about that but weasels out of her arms regardless, hissing. Unbothered, Patty laughs and says, “What if I promise to be more careful? You won’t have a single fur out of place.”
“Of course, he’s worried about his symmetry,” Liz sighs. “I suppose that means he’s fine.”
Patty crouches down to her knees, stretching her arms open. Kid considers her warily, before padding towards her. He’s not sure how effective his glare is as a cat but he assumes it was somewhat useful because Patty is gentle as she holds him in her hands.
“Isn’t he cute?” She grins, displaying him to his friends like he was a brand new toy.
Maka giggles, nodding. Soul had transformed back into his human form and was looking vaguely confused at all that was happening.
“He reminds me of Blair,” he says, disgruntled. “But with darker fur and more yellow eyes.”
“Don’t be rude.” Maka elbows him. “Kid’s super cute. He even has symmetric white patches like his Lines of Sanzu.”
Kid is…embarrassingly pleased at the revelation.
“Whatever,” Soul says, rubbing at where Maka had jabbed him. “What are we going to do with that?” He points at the glowing red orb in Tsubaki’s hands. “It’s not like we can eat it, right?”
Tsubaki shakes her head. “No, not unless we want the truce to break.” She grips it tighter, almost protectively and suggests, “Maybe one of us can hold on to it until Kid goes back to normal? Or is there somewhere safe we can use to store her soul in.”
“Good idea. We’ll bring it with us to Gallows Mansion when we get back so you can all stay and protect it overnight in shifts.” Liz glances at Kid, trying to see if he’ll object but he stays silent. It wasn’t a bad plan, all things considered. Sleep was never a necessity for him but as a cat, he doubts he could do much if an intruder broke in to steal it, as unlikely as it was.
“Alright,” Maka agreed. “How long do you think the spell will last?”
He doesn’t answer immediately. Judging by the rate his immunity is moving, he concludes it won’t take more than a day for the curse to be dispelled away. He raises one paw.
“One day? Shinigami biology is such a cheat code,” Soul says, grinning.
If Kid could, he would have shrugged. Instead, he settles deeper into the crooks of Patty’s arms. It’s not like Soul was wrong. His enhanced healing and general immunity to all ailments and diseases had always been one of the biggest perks of being a reaper, even if it meant certain human creations like hair dye lasting only mere hours before fading away. At least now, with his Lines of Sanzu complete, he didn’t have to deal with that asymmetrical mess anymore.
“Let’s head back then,” Tsubaki says, before she pauses, glancing thoughtfully at Liz, Patty and Kid. “But how will you three make it back without Kid and Beelzebub?”
Kid’s heart drops. Right. It’s not like he’s going to trust any of them to use his skateboard.
“Kid can come with us, right, Soul?” Maka suggests. “We have enough space on our bike.”
“You mean my bike, Maka,” Soul emphasizes half-heartedly. “We could, but only if Liz or Patty transforms into their weapon form. My bike can’t fit more than three people at once and Kid will probably have to squeeze between the two of us.”
Kid hisses, the hairs on his back raising as he voices out his displeasure. A ride back pressed between two bodies is enough to have him walking home instead. Patty cards her fingers through his fur in what he assumes is supposed to be a comforting gesture.
It doesn’t feel terrible.
“It won’t be that bad, Kid,” Liz says, trying for a smile. “And it won’t take very long at all.”
“What about me?” Black Star asks. He’s leaning against a tree, hands crossed around his chest as he eyes Kid with a curious glance.
Maka turns to him, confused. “What about you, Black Star?”
“What if Kid comes with me? I mean, surely I’m the best option right? There’s no one better at protecting a God than someone who—“
Maka cuts him off without remorse. “You own a vehicle?” There’s no hiding the incredulity from her voice, and Soul’s face is scrunched dubiously as if he doesn’t believe it as well. Tsubaki, on the other hand, is sighing, pinching the bridge of her nose. There was no doubt, she knew what Black Star was suggesting and clearly, she didn’t like it one bit.
“No, of course not,” Black Star laughed. “A man like me doesn’t need something as stupid as a vehicle.”
He continued laughing, as if his answer didn’t confuse them even more. Slowly, Kid begins to have an idea of where exactly this is going, but after considering his options, Black Star’s suggestion isn’t as bad as what Soul had to offer. The others didn’t seem to be quite there yet and Tsubaki wasn’t helping, exasperation seemingly holding her tongue still.
“So how did you get here?”
“I ran here.”
There was a moment of silence as they took in his words. Kid isn’t sure why they were so shocked. It’s not like they’ve ever seen Black Star get into a car before.
“I should have guessed that,” Maka said, wryly. “But if you ran here, how exactly is that better than Soul’s bike?”
“Liz and Patty can go by bike and Kid can come with me.” Black Star uncrosses his arms, growing smug as he continues, saying, “Carrying him around will be easy. It’s not like he can do anything as a cat.”
“As if Kid will ever agree to that. I mean, sure the bike ride might be uncomfortable but there’s no way Kid is willingly going to be carried around—“
Kid hops out of Patty’s arms, padding over to Black Star expectantly. Liz’s protest dies down as she stares disbelievingly at him.
“Seriously?” Liz splutters. “You cannot be serious.”
Kid looks at her from over his shoulder — or a cat’s equivalent of a shoulder — and simply blinks, slowly. Once. Then twice.
“Of course, he’s serious,” Liz says, grumbling to herself. “What did I even expect?”
Maka, on the other hand, stares at the two with unexpected curiosity. With feline vision, her expressions are easier to read yet even with his enhanced senses, he’s unable to pinpoint the source of her intrigue. His cat form? Or, maybe Black Star?
Then she smirks, satisfied and tiptoes to whisper over to Liz.
“Kid and Black Star,” she says hushed, but his sensitive ears pick up her words regardless. “Don’t tell me, you haven’t noticed.”
Haven’t noticed?
Whatever code she spoke in is easily understood by Liz, who stiffens before relaxing as her lips quirk into a mischievous grin. She hums, poorly containing her delight.
“I see what you mean,” she says. Then, she claps her hands. “Alright then. Patty, let’s go.”
“Okay, sis!” Patty bounds over to Kid, crouching to give him one last pet before bouncing back to her sister. “See you later!”
He raises a paw, waving back at her as he smiles — or at least, tries to, uncertain of whether a cat can even smile. He meows at her, just in case, before turning back to Black Star.
“Well,” he thinks, waiting expectantly while cursing his limited speech.
“Even as a cat, you look annoyingly smug,” Black Star says, scoffing. Despite his comments, the assassin scoops him up. Kid fits easily in his arms, slipping between them without a struggle.
“I guess Patty was right,” he says, surprised. “You are really soft.”
Kid ignores him, unsure of why that comment fills him with the inexplicable urge to purr. He doesn’t of course, because that would have been mortifying, but he does nip impatiently at the skin on Black Star’s arm.
Black Star curses, likely feeling the shot of pain; Kid waits to be dropped, except, he isn’t. Instead, the arms underneath him only tighten, creating a cradle for him to settle into.
“No need to bite, man,” he says. “Are you ready to go, Tsubaki?”
“Yes, Black Star. Please make sure to be careful with Kid.”
He grins. “Don’t worry, Tsubaki. Kid’s going to owe me so much after this.”
There was a moment of silence. Then, “That isn’t quite what I meant.”
“There’s no need to worry. Does Kid look uncomfortable to you? Nah, he looks as pretentious as always. Right, Kid?”
He doesn’t even deign Black Star’s antics with a meow. It’s enough to relieve Tsubaki of her worries and she refocuses her attention back on carrying the witch’s soul. A second later, they’re moving swiftly past the trees.
The forest blurs into a muted, monochromatic canvas. Unfortunately, as a cat, the world is coloured rather dull, absent of hues Kid had previously enjoyed. Instead of dark green leaves and rich brown, Kid is limited to splotches of grey to entertain his vision. It’s all incredibly boring and he looks up at Black Star instead, whose blue hair is strikingly visible in his world of bleak, sombre greys.
“I guess I can’t really use both my hands right now,” he says thoughtfully. “‘Cause you’ll wanna be in the middle of both my arms for symmetry, right Kid?”
Kid’s eyes widen at his thoughtfulness. He can’t help it this time, Kid purrs softly. Black Star’s brows rise before a delighted smile stretches across his face. He continues talking.
“Doesn’t this remind you of when I had to carry you through a cave? You really are sort of useless, aren’t you?”
Those words would’ve prompted a bite if it came from anyone else, but coming in Black Star’s playful delivery, it was somehow endearing. His statement carried no malice, words laced instead with an inexplicable fondness as Black Star recalled back on their earliest memories. Kid meows half-heartedly in protest but his continuous purring gives him away.
Black Star doesn’t stop, filling in the silence with his rambling. He chatters about an immeasurable amount of topics; their first fight, when Kid had first joined the DWMA, insisting that he won; his latest missions with Tsubaki, an activity Kid hadn’t known he’d missed until after Black Star began to brag, grandeur as always, about the evil spirits and killers he came across; and other mundane, everyday activities that were stretched into exaggeration to emphasis on the ‘big man’ status Black Star insisted he had.
Throughout their journey, Tsubaki occasionally chimes in to give her piece but other than a few short snippets from herself, she is seemingly content to listen, just as Kid is.
Time soon blends into a haze of nothingness. All of Black Star’s claims on how the world moved far too slowly for him sounded much more credible now. If this was how it was to live in Black Star’s shoes, Kid supposes he couldn’t fault him for thinking as such.
———
They reach Gallows Mansion before the rest of their companions.
Black Star is expectedly ecstatic once he lands on the same realization, crowing jubilantly about his victory. His voice bounces across the great empty rooms of the mansion, carrying across the endless hallways.
He jumps about, buzzing around in excitement. It’s almost admirable, the constant energy that exudes out of the assassin. As a Shinigami, Kid hardly ever notices dips and changes in temperatures but he finds himself curling deeper into the warmth emanating from Black Star’s arms.
Maka and Soul arrive not long after, trailed by Liz and Patty.
“Sorry if we’re late, I wanted to grab a change of clothes.”
“Don’t worry, we weren’t waiting for long,” Tsubaki replies. “Where should I keep the soul?”
Liz jumps in, saving Kid from thinking about how to reply. “Anywhere in sight,” she says, waving flippantly. “No one else is going to be here other than us.”
She guides them all to Kid’s living room — if he could even call it that. He had jumped off Black Star’s arms soon after their arrival, currently trailing beside Liz, noting idly just how odd it felt to walk bare-pawed on the floor. The sensation was vaguely ticklish; pink paws tacking against sleek tiles while tufts of soft fur creviced between brushed over the surface.
The room itself is nothing special, symmetrical as all the rooms in the mansion were. It held nothing but the bare essentials: a pristine black table nestled at its heart, paired with two identical black sofas that mirrored each other with calculated precision.
“Who’s taking the first shift then?”
His living room erupts into ear-shattering shouts. Kid hisses unhappily, sensitive ears ringing from the sudden burst of sound. He rakes his gaze across the room, padding over to Patty to find refuge in her silence. Sprawled across one of the cushions, elbows propped on one side of the armrest, Patty watches with wide eyes the ongoing havoc, silent as no one paid her a second glance. His friends had learnt to keep her out of discussions as she often fell asleep during her shifts. When she notices him, Patty curls further into the sofa, patting the newly made space.
Kid doesn’t hesitate to jump. It was weird, leaping up onto a couch that should have been half his height. Jumping as a cat wasn’t easy either. Unfamiliar with his temporary form, he feels like a baby doe, stumbling on frail legs, learning how to walk. His first attempt is an embarrassing failure; he jumps too high and quickly retracts his claws before he accidentally scratches his pristine and well-kept sofa.
Patty leans forward, whispering, “Should I pick you up?”
Kid shakes his head.
He tries again.
This time, he’s successful. He lands with a thump, sinking into the cushion as he shuffles around for a comfortable spot. Comfort, he had quickly learnt, was essential to being a cat — an incomprehensible desire.
Deep in his thoughts, Kid didn’t notice the silence which began to envelop the room. The hushed tranquillity stretched its tendrils across both meisters and weapons alike, leaving only an oblivious Shinigami free from its grasp. It took seconds later before he noticed, attention grabbed by a soft squeal which pierced through the fragile veil. He perks up, ears twitching towards the sound, only for his heart to lurch when he notices the six pairs of eyes watching him.
“Can we trade him for Blair,” Maka begs.
Patty laughs, amused but her arms wrap around him, nudging him closer. “No way.”
Maka sighs. “Well, it was worth a try.”
Kid is…confused. He knew small animals often had an unmistakable power when it came to entrancing humans — even he fell victim to their doe eyes — but his friends’ reactions were far beyond his imagination.
Black Star jumps into the space next to him, brows furrowing. There’s a crease between them that pulls at his skin, paired with a frown. Kid waits for him to voice out his complaints, but the assassin stays unusually silent.
“Are you all going to sleep here?” Liz asks, dubiously.
Black Star shrugs. “Are you not?”
Liz snorts, face curling in distaste. “As if. I’m going to sleep in my room. You’re all free to take one of the guest rooms. Hardly anyone ever uses them in the first place.”
Tsubaki takes up the offer. “If it wouldn’t cause you much trouble—“
“It won’t,” Liz assures. “Come on, Tsubaki. I’ll show you the way.”
Tsubaki sends her a thankful smile, trailing along with one last wave after setting the witch's soul at the heart of the table. “Don’t worry about waking me up. I’ll come when it’s my shift.”
After Liz and Tsubaki left, Maka and Soul settled onto the remaining couch; the furniture was already rather big, meaning neither of the two had much trouble finding a spot they were comfortable in. Except, something was missing.
Meowing, Kid nudges his head at Patty, attracting her attention. When she turns to ask him what is wrong, he tries his best to trace unspoken words onto her skin. Thankfully, she has always been more perceptive than people give her credit for and she bobs her head eagerly.
“Blankets and pillows, right, Kid?”
He nods, pleased.
“I’ll be right back then,” she says before pushing herself off the couch to head to their storage room.
With Patty gone, Kid is left alone on a couch with Black Star. Usually, this would never be a problem. However, this time, he looks unfamiliarly large, forcing Kid to strain his neck to watch him.
He’s curious when he finds that Black Star is already watching him. An emotion flits across his face, disappearing before Kid could identify the expression. Then, he shakes his head, as if ringing away the unknown thoughts that popped up in his mind.
“We’re taking the first watch,” he says, casually. We, he said, as if he knew all along that Kid had planned to stay with him. As if any other option was simply unthinkable in his world, already dreaming of futures so far ahead of the rest of them. Reminded by Black Star’s promises uttered inside the Book of Eibon, Kid finds himself unable to contradict.
He meows. It’s irritating how he’s limited to such a simple, singular sound and his ears flatten in displeasure. It doesn’t convey enough.
Black Star doesn’t mind. His eyes crinkle, cheeks lifting as he grins, understanding well enough all the words Kid wanted to say.
Soul and Maka were, miraculously, already sound asleep. Patty returns, carrying bundles of thick blankets and pillows in one hand while she clutches a giraffe plushie in another. Her footsteps slow once she spots them sleeping and she’s careful when she throws a blanket over the two. Then, she tiptoes back to her spot after chucking, far less gently, a blanket and a pillow over at Black Star.
Patty takes up one-quarter of the couch, while he and Black Star take up the other two. Kid feels a little remorse, watching Patty tuck her legs up to her knees. He doubts it's very comfortable.
Pushing away his hesitation, he crawls over to Black Star’s lap, who lets out a quiet yelp in response. Patty cranes her head, attracted by the noise, then sees the empty spot in the middle of the couch.
Kid stares at her expectantly.
“Thanks, Kid,” she says, stretching her legs out. “Goodnight.”
He waits for Black Star to protest but the assassin never does.
The tension between them is tangible. Kid isn’t sure when exactly the gears between them changed from simple friendship to something more but he suspects it was a slow and gradual process. He had felt it as a cat bundled in Black Star’s arm, listening as he rambled mindlessly, soaking in every utterance like a sponge. He had experienced it even before, through shared glances and feather-light brushes that happened too often to be filed away as an incident.
He wonders if Black Star notices it too.
He must have, because his hands brush over Kid’s fur, hesitating for a split second before carding through the inked dipped tufts.
“You know, Kid, if you wanted to sleep on me, you only had to ask,” Black Star comments, cocky and assured. As if his hands hadn’t just trembled mere moments ago.
Kid should find it insufferable.
He doesn’t.
He wishes he could speak, thoughts bursting at the tip of his tongue, begging to be spilt out. He aims a nasty glare towards the soul floating atop his table. Thankfully, it had the courtesy to bounce afloat at the centre, but still — what a nuisance. He wishes his healing abilities would work a little bit quicker but when he tries to dispel the magic, he’s met with resistance.
The fingers carding along his fur gradually grow increasingly confident, scratching behind his ears. Once on his left, then again on his right, before repeating.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
Kid hums, content but it comes out as more of a purr than anything else. He curls further into the blanket spread over Black Star’s lap. It’s not particularly warm or cold, at least to him, but he melts deeper regardless. Being a cat is weird. It makes Kid do reckless things that threaten to define the change between the two, like nuzzling against Black Star's chest.
The tension starts to simmer as Black Star’s shift continues, remaining uneventful. Kid had figured that the assassin would have grown bored, dismissing his task in favour of doing something far more entertaining and insane like a thousand push-ups or leaving the room to wander around the mansion.
It never happens.
For once in his life, Black Star is willing to stay put and occupy his time petting a cat. Except, the cat is Kid, meaning the Shinigami isn’t sure how to reconcile with such uncharacteristic information.
“When Maka wakes up, are you going to keep her company as well?” Black Star asks.
Kid squints, trying to understand where his question was coming from. He looks put out, features twisting into the beginnings of a scowl.
“I mean, I know not sleeping is your jig, but it’s not like you can’t, right?” He continues, quietly as if he’s whispering to himself. “And if a big man like me can take a break, then you should be able to do that too.”
His hands unwillingly tighten around Kid. Not enough to hurt but enough that the emotion hiding underneath leaks through. It strikes Kid as an act that’s almost possessive— No, that’s not right. It’s a disservice to chalk up his actions as something as shallow and entitled as that. Then, perhaps jealousy? And maybe even a little upset?
But why?
It can’t be about his abilities. Black Star isn’t the type to waste time sulking over Kid’s powers. He never has, and he never will.
Then, it has to be something else.
He studies the assassin: a growing frown, brows knitting close, and jaw clenching. It clicks then, slotting into pieces.
A soft rustling of blankets pops the intangible bubble surrounding the two. It’s Maka, waking up for her shift. She rubs her eyes, yawning as she blinks away remnants of sleep. When she’s gathered her bearings, she flicks her gaze over to the witch’s soul, then at Black Star and Kid.
She raises a brow, mainly at Kid, but doesn’t say anything other than a simple question, asking if it is time for her to take watch.
Black Star nods, but he’s not looking at her. His eyes are trained onto Kid, waiting. The hands resting on him are still tense, but they're not constricting, allowing Kid to weasel out if he really wanted to.
He should probably keep Maka company. That would be the nice thing to do.
He doesn’t.
Kid buries deeper into his lap, stretching a paw before retracting it back. A nagging thought itches at his brain and he stretches another one before he rests his head on Black Star’s thighs.
He flicks his gaze up, meeting Black Star’s eyes before casting a subtle glance to his arms — a silent message.
Black Star snickers, green eyes holding a lightness to it that previously wasn’t there. But, he obeys. As fingers weave into the strands of his fur, stroking in soothing motions, Kid practically dissolves.
Sleeping has never come easy for Kid. Why should it? It’s not like he needs it. The activity is more like a luxury, a way of passing time instead of the necessity it was for humanity. Each attempt always took far too long, but now, Kid takes to sleeping like a duck to water.
It doesn’t take long, and the last thing he hears is Maka’s soft, confusing mutter.
“About time.”
———
“Kid—“
“—Star.”
“—sleeping?”
Kid wakes up to three heads peering over him, expressions boggled and jaw hung ajar. He’s not sure why they’re staring, nor does he particularly care at the moment so he ignores them, tuning out the ongoing whispers.
He presses his head back into his unusually uneven pillow, pulling out his arm which had been trapped underneath his chest.
The trances of sleep had disappeared the instant his eyes had opened but he didn’t feel particularly inclined to break his moment of peace.
He sighs, stretching his legs—
Legs.
Kid freezes, confused before it dawns upon him. He raises an arm over his face. Five fingers. No paws.
The spell had washed off overnight like he had expected.
Not fully conscious, Kid turns, expecting to roll over his bed only to find criminally wrinkled black fabric obstructing his gaze.
Brows furrowing, Kid takes in his surroundings. Liz, Tsubaki and Maka are standing around him, exchanging rapid hushed whispers too fast for his sleep-addled brain to understand. Soul, Patty and Black Star are nowhere to be found.
Weirdly enough, his pillow begins to shift. From above, he hears someone groan in a voice too familiar for him to get it wrong.
“Stop moving, Kid,” Black Star mumbles. “You’re one annoying cat, you know?”
Memories of last night flicker across his mind, replaying one by one before it stops, right when Kid had fallen asleep, tucked into Black Star’s lap. That was the last thing he remembered from last night, which meant only one thing.
Heat rushes to his cheeks as the realization crashes upon him. His heart pounds against his chest and he shifts again, looking up to see Black Star, still half asleep, right above him. It occurs to him now, the thought filling him with pure mortification, that what he thought was his pillow was actually Black Star’s legs, crossed in the makeshift cradle Kid had fallen asleep on the night before.
“Why are you still moving?” Black Star complains. “You’re really heavy for a cat, Kid.”
The assassin rubs his hands over his eyes. Somewhere in his mind, Kid realizes that one of his hands had been tangled in Kid’s hair, while the other had been resting on his chest. He’s not sure what to do with that new piece of information — it makes his heart race, weirdly enough.
Watching Black Star regain consciousness is like watching a horror movie play out, anticipating, with bated breath, an inevitable scene but not knowing exactly when to brace his heart.
He feels it before he sees it. The muscles underneath him tense, freezing before Black Star’s lips part in shock. Black Star’s complaints die out, slowly fizzling into the void as he takes in Kid sprawled across the couch, his head resting on his lap.
Pinned by Black Star’s undivided attention, it occurs to him five seconds too slow that Kid should probably move out of his lap. Once the idea clicks to him, Kid practically scrambles off the couch and to his feet, too embarrassed to pretend to play it cool. His eyes dart furtively in a futile attempt to pull away from the situation only to find no one else in the room.
Liz, Tsubaki and Maka had left, leaving him alone with Black Star, drowning underneath the layers of awkward tension.
“Good morning,” he says cautiously. His voice comes out raspy and wary but he blames it on disuse. He hopes Black Star thinks the same.
“You’re back,” Black Star comments.
He shrugs, movements stiff and stilted. “It probably dispelled overnight.” He pauses, eyes glued to everywhere but Black Star and says, “Sorry. About that.” He gestures lamely over to the couch as if a simple hand gesture was enough to explain the night before.
Red dusts the tips of Black Star’s ears, spreading to his cheeks. He hasn’t moved from his spot. Something resembling determination crosses his face before he practically jumps off the sofa. He crosses over to Kid, who stills, feet stitched to the ground.
“Go out with me,” he demands.
Kid jerks, heart skipping a beat. “Don’t joke about that,” he says.
His response earns him a scowl twisted in annoyance. Black Star steps closer, ignoring his reply entirely. He’s acutely aware of how close they are now — it wouldn’t even take two steps for them to touch.
“I’m not joking,” he says.
Kid studies him suspiciously. There’s no cruelty in his statement and Black Star was never the type for deception. Foolishly, his heart jumps. He tries to squash the churning emotion roiling in his stomach, pressing his palms onto his pants.
He doesn’t know how to do this. There’s no reference for Kid to compare on when it comes to being in love. No cringy Shinigami rom-coms. No advice from his father. Nothing.
“Go on a date with me,” Black Star says again as if it’s so simple.
Underneath the heat of his gaze, Kid spots an underlying hesitancy, a glimmer of fear that grows when Kid continues to remain silent. It’s impossible to miss the slight shake in Black Star’s hands, his stance rigid as he bares open his heart — a rare display of vulnerability.
“Okay,” Kid says, biting back a smile. For a moment, it doesn’t feel real, so he says it again. “Okay.”
Black Star has no such reservations. He lets his smile bloom. Endearingly, he cheers — an action so unbelievably Black Star-esque that Kid loses his battle, lips curving despite his best attempts.
They’re too close for the assassin to miss the minuscule change of expression and it acts as fuel to Black Star’s fire.
“It’s going to be the best date ever,” Black Star promises as if they both don’t know it’s going to be Kid’s first. Kid supposes it would be Black Star’s first as well but he takes to the experience the same way he does with all things — with brazen, unabashed enthusiasm.
Kid smirks, an unspoken challenge. “I’m looking forward to it.”