Death The Kid stood proudly in front of DWMA, with his head tilted back as he observed the academy his father, Lord Shinigami himself, had created. He couldn’t get enough of the perfect symmetry, the school’s architecture was flawless, in his eyes.

His morning had gone perfectly, he had awoken in the middle of his bed, every picture frame and candle in his home had a line of symmetry straight down the middle, and he had arrived at the academy at 8am exactly. It didn’t matter to him that he was three hours late on his first day, all that mattered to him was the symmetry of his favourite number. His mood was anything but bad, so he wore an almost bright smile on his face.

Nothing could get in his way now, nothing could bring down his mood or the day ahead of him.

The moment Kid stepped through the large doors of the school, his smile fell. It was as if his good mood was a thin piece of glass that had just fallen to the concrete floor.