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“Hm? What have you got, son?” The kid had his hands around something, outstretched up towards Ghost King in the chilly autumn air. The park is mostly empty, the setting sun filtering through the trees, showering Nomu Kid with pinpricks of golden light. His innocent eyes look up at Ghost King with intention. He seems distressed. Ghost King takes his hands and opens them to find a small, motionless, bird. “Why, where did you get this? Put it down, it’ll probably make you sick.” Nomu Kid shakes his head adamantly. He thrusts his hands up towards Ghost King, begging him to do something. Ghost King grimaces. How does Mecha Raccoon seem to do so well with the boy? This child is always finding something new to take to, looking after him is such a uniquely exhausting ordeal. Ghost King sighs, kneeling down to level with Nomu Kid.
“Everything dies, boy. In fact-” Ghost King pokes the bird slightly- “I believe this one is already gone. It’s best you put it down” Nomu Kid’s eyes widen for a moment and his expression drops, he lowers it slowly to his level and stares into them at the body he holds in his small hands. As the realization sinks in the boy sniffles, his breaths shorten, and before long he’s sobbing, holding the bird and shaking, scared to put it down and yet scared to hold it any longer.
Ghost King recoils, startled by Nomu’s sudden flood of tears. How could the child not have realized the bird was already dead?? Surely he couldn’t have thought Ghost King could just fix the pathetic thing! Ghost King wrings his hands, uncomfortable and unprepared to have to deal with Nomu Kid’s terrifying existential realization. The boy shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut, his hands no longer gentle as he squeezes the bird unintentionally.
“ah- NOMU.” Nomu Kid stifles a sob, looking up at Ghost King with pursed lips and teary eyes. Ghost King holds out a hand. “My boy, give me the bird. We can't have you crushing its remains.” Nomu Kid nods, his lip quivering as he sets the bird in Ghost King’s hand. Ghost King considers the bird for a moment. It really is very dead. Its wing is bent gruesomely, with crusted blood in its feathers. He grimaces, but the child shouldn’t be holding the pathetic thing longer than he already has. With a sigh, his expression softens.
“Everything dies eventually, son,” Nomu Kid nods with tears streaming down his face, ”don't cry now. It isn’t something we need to be sad about.” Nomu goes to wipe his face with the back of his hand but Ghost King quickly catches his hand.
“No- you were just holding a dead bird. No touching your face, son.” He takes the end of his cape and wipes Nomu’s face. ”This bird lived a good, long life. And now, it lives as something new. You know how I know that?” Nomu Kid shakes his head, confused. Ghost King grins his wide, wry smile, the swirling memories that make up his body flaring up in pride. “I am The Ghost King, boy! See this- ” he holds his hand over the bird, drawing out its ghost, its memory- ”all of these memories, its melodies, its life. It’s all ghost now, back out into the universe. Now it's a part of me, a part of you.” The bird's ghost swirls around his hand as he prods Nomu Kid’s chest with a finger, the ghosts swirling and intermingling with Nomu’s goop, glistening and dissipating in a twinkling of birdsong. Nomu watches in awe, no longer crying. “Nothing is ever really gone, boy, just changed. That’s not so sad, now is it?” Nomu Kid considers this before slowly shaking his head, looking at Ghost King with wide eyes.
“Alright then, son. Go wash your hands now, or you’ll make yourself sick.”