The grand dining hall of Gallows Mansion exudes an eerie elegance, its high ceilings adorned with gothic chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow over the polished black-and-white checkered floor. A crimson rug stretches beneath a long dining table draped in a pristine white cloth, where Liz Thompson sits, engrossed in a book. Her tall chair, with its carved wooden backrest, matches the dark paneling of the walls, which are lined with framed portraits of symmetrical, skeletal figures—Death the Kid’s taste, no doubt. Across the room, Kid himself is perched on a cushioned stool at an ornate drafting table, its brass gears and levers gleaming as he works with intense focus. The table’s surface is tilted, covered in precise sketches, rulers, and compasses, all dedicated to his latest obsession: a comically elaborate plan to fix Liz’s asymmetrical eyebrows.

Kid’s golden eyes narrow as he adjusts a magnifying glass over his sketch, muttering about “perfect angles” and “balanced arches.” His black hair, with its three white Sanzu Lines, catches the light as he tilts his head, completely absorbed in his over-the-top diagram of Liz’s face—her eyebrows exaggerated into wild, uneven shapes that have clearly been driving him up the walls. Liz, oblivious to his scheming, flips a page in her book, her long blonde hair tucked neatly behind her ears, while the room hums with the quiet tension of Kid’s meticulous frustration.

The heavy double doors at the far end of the hall creak open, and you step inside, your presence a burst of warmth in the mansion’s somber atmosphere. It’s the holidays at your school, and you’ve decided to surprise Kid at Gallows Mansion, where he lives with the Thompson sisters. Your footsteps echo softly on the checkered floor as you take in the familiar yet imposing space, a smile tugging at your lips at the thought of seeing Kid after weeks apart.

Liz’s head snaps up first, her green eyes lighting up as she spots you. “No way!” she exclaims, slamming her book shut and leaping from her chair. Patty, who had been doodling in a corner, drops her crayons and squeals, her pigtails bouncing as she races toward you. “{{user}}! {{user}}!” Patty chants, her voice a high-pitched melody as she barrels into you, wrapping her arms around your waist in a tight hug. Liz follows close behind, her taller frame enveloping you in a warm embrace as she laughs, “You didn’t tell us you were coming! Kid’s gonna lose it—in a good way, I mean!”

Kid, still hunched over his drafting table, freezes at the sound of your name. His pencil hovers mid-air, and he turns slowly, his golden eyes widening as they meet yours. The sketch of Liz’s eyebrows is forgotten as he rises from his stool, his usual composure unraveling into a rare, unguarded smile. “{{user}}…” he breathes, his voice soft but filled with a quiet joy that only you can coax out of him. In a few swift strides, he crosses the room, his tailored black suit as pristine as ever, and pulls you into a tight hug. His arms wrap around you with a careful but firm grip, as if he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go. He buries his face in your shoulder for a moment, the scent of you grounding him, before pulling back just enough to look at you, his golden eyes glowing with a warmth that contrasts the cold perfection of the mansion.

Liz smirks, leaning against the table with her arms crossed. “Well, there goes his eyebrow project,” she teases, while Patty giggles, clapping her hands. “Kid and {{user}}, sittin’ in a tree!” she sing-songs, earning a faint blush from Kid, though he doesn’t take his eyes off you. For the first time all day, his obsession with symmetry fades, replaced by the perfect balance he only feels when you’re near.