Offtopic: Continued from [link].

--Your mission is to infiltrate a temple at at the top of this slope. We could only get you this far, so you'll have to walk the rest of the way.--

She stood in the center of the beaten path, snow on its banks, frozen dirt at her feet. It was Etsu Hikane's first combat mission in months, and not just an ordinary combat mission, either. The enemies were projected to be simplistic, but . . .

--Remember, the goal here is to be unseen until you find them. A sneak attack will merit the best results. Your targets are currently active in Purgatory. If you approach outside of Purgatory, you'll be less likely to be found.--

. . . it was a mission that required a certain degree of subtly. Tact. Stealth. These were not her specialties. But, if Scott were right, then it should be simple enough. Approach slowly in the living world, Utopia, and make sure to keep the senses high. It was risky, if she were walking into an ambush, but the projected course of action didn't predict that.

For this, she had brought along a heavy winter coat with a hood. It was gray, and closer to white than anything else. In the worst case scenario, it might let her blend with the snow. Scott suggested that. Her hair, azure toned and just a couple of inches lower than her shoulders, was tied back and kept under her hood; she was going to need both eyes for this, ideally. A headset underneath of her hook consisted of an earpiece and a small microphone. If Scott said anything, only she was going to be hearing it, what with the earpiece so uncomfortably set within her ear and all.

Moving with thick pants and boots like this was less than comfortable, and she was afraid that if she needed to hold a weapon, she'd have no grip with these gloves--but such was life. The last time she went to a harsh, cold environment, she nearly died from the cold alone. No one wanted to take that risk again.

--All right. We'd have sent you with a pair of spiritually respondent glasses, but they produce more Qi than is an acceptable risk. Now, these Ame Voleur have been holed up in this temple all morning. I don't believe they're going to be leaving anytime in the near future, but that's just my assumption. Don't take time for granted.--

"Under-stood," the girl whispered.

A cold wind chilled her to the core. Truth be told, she was warm enough to get by, it simply reminded her of a much less pleasant time in her life.



It was a little over a month ago, and Etsu doubted she'd ever forget it. Stranded in a frozen town, wearing only a tank top and a pair of shorts, freezing herself to death-- captured by some unknown military, lead into a tower like a prisoner, interrogated, threatened, forced to speak lest she suffer extreme consequences, left to be cold, begging to have some form of warmth, bribed--

Then everything exploded. An enemy military? Invasion in the flames, gunshots, arrows, swords clashing, shouts and screams of people dying, a call to retreat, all seen, injured, from where she landed from the tower-- the tower that exploded and collapsed and dropped her two stories into icicles.

Left for dead in the snow, bleeding out, hopeless, staining the snow red. Uncomfortably warm. Warmed by death. Dying, fearing what was to come, her end, her eternity, the Hell she condemned herself to-- blacking out--

Waking up, everything bright, too bright, painfully bright, fearing blindness-- she asked where she was, they said "home," so she asked for her mother. They told her "not that kind of home," so she asked for Shiden. Then she saw Addison and Scott and Eld, and she was happy and sad all at once-- happy to see them again, sad that it all hadn't been a near death dream, and she hadn't been saved in that forest when she attempted suicide-- that was still damned.



That was the last official mission she undertook. Later field training exercises were considered failures. Every coliseum match following, she had "died," whether victory was ascertained or not.

Shinigami-sama wants me to be better . . .

She furrowed her brow, staring up at the large slope ahead of her. Etsu couldn't see the temple from here; the snow set a thick layer of fog alongside of it. Everything had a white tint to it, even the fog--it was physically impossible to see up the slope.

Etsu sighed mentally. "Com-menc-ing mis-sion."

With a degree of uneasiness, she started to walk. The Ame Voleur near the top were supposed to be all together, and she was currently so far down, practically at the base of the slope, that it was unlikely they were going to see or hear her--and if they were focused on Purgatory, they might very well not notice her until she was at the top. Hopefully . . .

How often did the projected results of a Reaper mission go as planned, though?

The walk wasn't much; something easily shrugged off. The only problem Etsu had with it was her trauma with cold. The colder the environment--anymore--the worse off she was going to feel. Always the flashbacks, and the awkward memories of things long forgotten that made her want nothing more than to throw her spear away.

Nonetheless, it took some time. Etsu started off at a quick pace, knowing that she couldn't spare the time to move too cautiously. If the Ame Voleur were to leave . . .

That wasn't something to think about when she was trying to stay courageous. What would Addison have told her? Would she have told her how to buck up and deal with these problems? Given her some advice, perhaps? Or would she not have given her the time of day?

That, sadly, had happened before.

And the same happened with Scott, too.

Etsu's brow furrowed as she thought back to it all. The last month had really taken a toll on her. The last . . . six months, even. Or eight. Or a year. Or a lifetime. However long she had been there.

More thoughts that didn't help the mission at hand.

Before she knew it, though, she could see the temple; a monastery, more like it. The thick fog had cleared just a little once the snow stopped--for now. The downpour would begin anew soon enough; it just meant she'd have to get to the monastery quicker. Unfortunately, that was extremely inadvisable. She'd have made too many sounds, and the goal here was to be unseen and unheard for as long as humanly possible--without actually going into Purgatory (as such would have compromised the mission, and probably herself).

So, she wound up approaching slower. Once the monastery was visible up the mountain slope, she started to try harder to get her thoughts back in order, all for the sake of caution. It would have been easier to blindside her if she was lost in thought.

The further up the path Etsu walked, the better she could see it. The snow covered monastery enshrouded by fog on all sides . . . only the tall archway in could be seen, no matter how close she was to it. The slate color of the walls reflected on the snow and gave the scenery a gray tone; it looked just as Purgatory did, gray, lifeless, drowning in a sea of fog . . .

Even when Etsu stood before the monastery, she couldn't see around it. The fog was at its thickest point here, where the mountain trail ended. It was colder up here, too. Etsu glanced behind her for just a moment, looking beyond the path that took her here--only to find that she couldn't see beyond it. All she could see was fog and snow still falling, albeit far less dense. It was never like a blizzard, but still just enough to merit worry. Just how far up was she? There was no way to tell anymore, it seemed. Her ears felt like they had popped, though, and she was light headed--and there were no signs of that changing. Anything falling off of the path was perhaps guaranteed to die.

But that was something to worry about later, when she'd inevitably have to climb back down.

For now, the primary concern was the archway entrance. The doors were open, as if inviting her in, but no one stood outside besides her, and she couldn't feel any bodies in the near vicinity. Of course, they were there. She could feel that much. Someone or something was in the monastery, but much deeper within. The feeling alone made Etsu wonder just how large the place was.

She'd just have to find out.

The monastery was a massive one, easily a quarter of a mile long. One expansive hallway lead from the entrance down to the very back, but that wasn't where she needed to go. The second floor, the top floor, was the destination. Etsu couldn't help but appreciate the architecture, though. A straight-aligned hardwood floor, wooden dividers marking the boundaries of rooms with thick paper weaved into them, ornate designs running across every wall--but she couldn't see any of that. It was too dark. Finding the stairs, however, was easy, and fortunately, her targets were right there, within a bordered room just feet ahead from the top of the staircase.

The creatures stood in a square, silent, a sheet covering something in the middle of them, its form soaked in blood, with splotches on either side, slowly drying on the hardwood floor. They looked more like monsters than men, tall, thin, lanky, with long arms and tall legs, short bodies and long faces, wide hands and four fingers for each--three fingers, one thumb. They wore feathery leather armor and metal plates around their long, thin skulls. They had a certain bird-like grace to their bodies, with feathers more prevalent on the "armor" upon their arms, giving them a wing-like appearance.

Oddly, they hadn't noticed Etsu's arrival. Most fortunate.

She stood in the doorway, cautiously. She had yet to summon her spear, knowing full well that it'd tip her enemies--her targets--off. A change in spirit that sudden could be felt by a normal person, let alone a practiced soul thief.

- speaking . . .

Etsu couldn't exactly understand what they were doing here. Granted, understanding wasn't her job. But still, Ame Voleur usually had a reason for their crimes--like all criminals, even. It was rarely ever a circumstance of amusement; if a criminal sought amusement, why seek the overtly technical side of wreaking havoc? They'd have much less problems if they merely killed people and did nothing at all to the souls. Nonetheless, from all of Etsu's experiences, soul thieves preyed on souls somehow, drained the spirit, ate it--something along those lines.

From what she could infer, there was a body under the blanket. It was still exuding Qi, but it couldn't still be alive, not with all this blood . . .

Did they do it, then?

While Etsu thought about it, the creatures began to come out of their trance. She saw them move. At first, they had been statues, perfectly still, completely balanced, and so even the slightest movement, a drawing of breath, a heartbeat, a tick of the finger, anything of the sort, would be wholly noticeable. They moved so slightly, their chests leaning down by only a fraction of a centimeter.

--Ets, are you okay? You're in the same room with them--but . . . they're not moving? Be careful.--

That was her cue. Etsu slid her left foot back and leaned in with her right foot. Her right pushed forward and grabbed at the air, at nothing at all, as a glimmer of azure shown between her fingers. It was an instant, truly; a flash of a moment, and a naginata, a sturdy spear with a long, curved blade, rested between her fingers, held at the middle of the pole, gripped tight in spite of the restrictive gloves upon her hands; she wasn't going to be letting it go for this. Death wanted her to repair her reputation; Etsu didn't want to fail the man that saved her life-- that gave her time out of Hell . . .

A creature lifted its head up and began to turn lethargically, only to screech in anguish. Its lifeblood burst from underneath of its mask, splotched out from where ever its mouth set, as it flung back in a straight line into its ally, the creature directly across from it, both in Etsu's line of sight-- a hurled polearm, thrown like a spear fisherman on the hunt, interjected between its ribbed and carried it forward with momentum into the frame of its fellow, skewering both, ending their lives indefinitely.

It wasn't the first time Etsu had killed. It was easier for her when they were creatures, though. Monsters. She didn't have to look at them like human beings that way.

The other two turned immediately, beady eyes behind thick metal, lined onto the young Reaper-- they lifted their arms simultaneously and let out inhuman screeches, powerful tones that felt, to Etsu, as if they were shaking the room itself.

Truth be told, though, it was a reaction within her inner ear. She felt a paralyzing effect-- her body wanted to succumb and come to its knees, but that was all. Etsu's spirit was still strong. She still had a will over herself. The deafening screech was agonizing, and though it looked as if she, pained, was ready to collapse, the truth was . . .

Seeing Etsu ready to fall, one made a lunge for her. On its abnormally long legs, it raced for her, its arms flapping as if it were ready to take off into flight at any given instant. As it neared her, it reared its head back, and lunged for her, head first, intending to use the armor upon its skull as a weapon in of itself.

But to the creature's surprise, all that remained when it stumbled forward was a gentle azure mist, a visible remnant of spirit. It hadn't expected to feel a hand upon its lower back, nor the burning pain of fire-- flameless fire, the fire of the soul, incapable of burning, yet burning twice as hot.

Etsu had her back part-way turned to the creature, facing--first and foremost--the final target. Using Purgatory to dodge the first attack had been successful, but she could only do that so much. No matter, there was only one left. The previous aggressor now lay writhing upon the floor, its screeching slowly turning into whimpers as its life faded out. All that was left was the last of four. For the time being, it was a standoff. Etsu could only fight defensively without a weapon, after all.

She lifted her right arm in front of her, with her left bent forward at her side, forearms parallel to the ground, palms open. Just based on her experiences sparring with Eld and Addison, she knew to have her arms ready to potentially defend herself, and always--ALWAYS!--have her feet shoulder-length apart.

It rushed her first, but not before letting out a screech of its own. Etsu lowered her arms a bit, wincing in pain. She couldn't even hear the screech anymore as soon as it was emitted; the deafness only lasted a second, but the shakiness in her limbs lasted much longer. It continued to screech, making her feel even shakier than the first time, this time noticeable, this time worrisome.

And once it saw that she genuinely had trouble standing, the creature charged her. Its arms swayed out like the last ones, but as it closed in on her, it didn't use its skull. Rather, it threw its arms out, intending to use the long reach it had against the Reaper--six feet, full arm length . . .

And it was a success. In an instant, Etsu found herself in the arm, thick, strong hands wrapped around her throat. She must have been twelve--maybe even fifteen--feet off of the ground. The monsters were veritable giants, and their grip was stronger than it seemed. She couldn't breath; her heart was pounding, the pain in her head continued to rise; it hadn't stopped screeching. Etsu clenched her teeth together and strained, whimpering between attempts to squeeze at the beast's wrists. She couldn't even find them. Its hands must have connected directly to its arms, and even if it did have a joint there, the leather armor kept that protected.

The Reaper opened one eye, half shut, staring weakly down at the screaming beast. She could see its beady red eyes, like small red marbles within a boulder, an impeccable weakness, but not one she could take advantage of. Not like this.

Unfortunately, it was just like her other missions. She lost, and she had to be bailed out by another Reaper. Near death, she'd have to be taken to the emergency room immediately. This time, she wouldn't have that option. It was trying to break her neck. She wouldn't survive that.

No backup. No hope.

Survival instinct kicked in. With a strain, Etsu let out a pained cry and tensed nearly every muscle in her body. The creature's fingers slipped from around her neck, and finally it screeched not as a means of weakening its prey, but in pain. The Reaper hit the floor feet first, collapsing painfully to her knees, but that little agony didn't compare to the one in her head-- nor the one experienced by the final Ame Voleur, who now frantically swiped at its own form to try and smother the blue flames which engulfed it, fruitlessly so, before inevitably collapsing to the floor, twitching.

Etsu gagged and coughed and sputtered to reopen her windpipe. It had been damn near crushed. But she was fine . . .

Between deep breaths, the girl whispered meekly, "Mis-sion . . . accompr-rished . . ."

Offtopic: All dialogue from this point on is presumably in Japanese. I did not feel like translating it all.

The battle over, Etsu could relax. She wasn't going to get up and leave just yet. Instead, she was going to wait for a moment--catch her breath, regain her composure, and get ready for the walk down a mountain, because technicians would probably be damned if they made things easier on Reapers--or something. Definitely not, but Etsu was frequently annoyed about that. She could never just go back to the Dirige from where she was; she had to walk somewhere else to do it, and it was usually a very, very long distance away.

First thing first, though: retrieve her spear. Etsu walked across the room, paying no further heed to the bodies of the former Ame Voleur. Prying the blade from the two downed bodies was easy enough, too; the blade was sharp enough that it cut while it was being withdrawn-- making it just as easy to withdraw from a body as it was to stab the body.

Once there, though, Etsu found something interesting. The tarp which the Ame Voleur had been standing around was still there, untouched, with something beneath it. The blood around it and soaking into it made her second guess the idea of touching it, but in the end she caved and took one corner, lifted it, and peeked--half expecting a gory mess.

He was a mess, yes, but not a gory mess. As soon as she saw that the body was still in tact, not even pecked at or eaten at all, she removed the cover over it. It was only then that she saw the soul.

The blanket over his body must have kept all spiritual energy from leaving--keeping his soul from leaving his body, essentially. Just what were those creatures doing here? She'd probably never know.

Not that it was important anymore. The job was done-- now . . . this young man had her attention.

He was a young man, perhaps no older than twenty--but clearly no younger than eighteen. He was tall, six feet tall, and had a handsome face, as well as an admirable build--thin, above average, but not excessively muscular. He had dark hair, long, and pulled up into a top-knot. A samurai, perhaps? Etsu couldn't be too sure. He wore a gray kimono, however, and there was a bloody tanto on the floor close by his soul--and the body upon its back, the body much like Etsu's own when she died. It was just then that she felt sick to her stomach.

There were few times when Etsu was faced with sending a soul that she actually wanted to know about the person. Perhaps it was the nature of death for this one that intrigued her so much. Perhaps that was why she really didn't want to send him.

"What is your name?" Etsu whispered.

"Ketsunai, Yasuo," he replied, weakly, with a bow of his head.

It was a quick response, but there were, for a brief moment, more important things to examine. His body, for example--or, rather, the fact that he was no longer in it. How did that work, he wondered. How could he be sitting upon the floor before his lifeless body? He was dead, but . . . this wasn't what he imagined death to be like. He looked down at his body. He could still see the blood. it wasn't disappointing, though. Instead of focusing on his lifeless body, he looked up to the beautiful girl before him.

"Are you here to . . . . take me to . . ." he trailed off weakly; understandably weak, but not for the same reasons he assumed, ". . . to-- to Heaven?"

The girl didn't say anything for awhile. Rather, she stared at him-- almost . . . ruefully.

"No," she shook her head.

"Why? Aren't you an angel?"

It wasn't the first time someone assumed that. Etsu had sent hundreds of souls in her time as a Reaper, and sometimes people confused her with an angel. The first was a gentle old woman. She asked if Etsu was an angel come to guide her soul, and the girl lied to her.

She had nodded.

This, however, was the first time Etsu felt flattered by this misjudgment. Flattered and disappointed all at the same time. Right now, she genuinely wished she were an angel. An angel might have been able to do something about this.

"I am a Reaper."

". . . Shinigami?" he inquired with a tight brow.

Etsu, with an expressionless stare, nodded.

"Oh . . ." he trailed off and looked away for a moment--only to look back up at her face and ask with the utmost respect: "What will happen to me now, Miss Shinigami?"



As her life began to slip away, Etsu felt nothing. As if entranced, she stared onward into nothing, waiting for her body to die and soul pass on. She could only hope that taking her own life exhumed her of dishonor. It was then that the fog came. The world around her ceased to promote life and color: everything, excluding herself, hosted only a gray-scale color scheme. Chills ran up her spine as a new feeling of emptiness tread throughout her soul. For a third time, she felt afraid, to the point where--even if she could move--she would have been unable.

Etsu's life had come to an end. She had bled to death, alone.

But when the afterlife's dark boatman stood before her, he could not bring himself to dangle her young soul over the pits of Hell--a place destine to suicides. The rarity of suicides in children was calming for the god of life and Death, as he rarely ever had to put himself through the moral dilemma of sending them off to a fate he did not believe they deserved. For several minutes, they stared at one another. Silent. Etsu's scarlet eyes looked up into the dark figure's golden eyes that looked down at her sullen and pitiful figure.

"Who . . . are you?" Etsu asked with an obvious tone of fear in her voice.

"Death," he responded, "I am here . . . to give you a second chance . . ."



Etsu extended her hand to him. "Please come with me."

Initially, he didn't know how to accept that. "Where will we go?"

Etsu didn't answer. She didn't how he to. How did Death speak with her so long ago? How did he bring himself to tell her of her fate--to become a Reaper to forestall damnation? Death was much stronger than she. He was so much stronger than everyone; physically, mentally, and emotionally, the man was simply superior . . .

Or, so Etsu thought.

Nonetheless, she wasn't going to tell this young man what he did to himself. For now, he didn't need to know.

In the end, after a long and uncomfortable silence between them, the young man reached forward and took her hand, accepting her help up--and beyond.