The Braids of Death

Chapter Three

Ryuzaki Sakuno, Killing Machine

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Death followed her until she got home. It was almost nightfall, and by the time they reached the squat yellow house in the middle of the street, most of the outside lights had switched on, illuminating the flat concrete and the black swishing trees. The Ryuzaki family had moved into the lemon-colored house a year ago, when Sakuno’s father had gotten promoted. It was an artfully made dwelling, with a white roof and wide circular windows that stared. Death thought it was rather nice.

“Mom, I’m home!”

Despite the modern façade, the inside of the house was still vaguely traditional. There were still those sliding rice paper doors that just wouldn’t die, as well as the long, low table positioned in the living room. An orange candle the side of a horse’s head lay in the middle of the table. Its smoke tasted of grapefruit.

Lovely house, thought Death, sitting on top of the counter. Behind him, a tall, slim woman bustled around in the kitchen, tasting each of the different dishes that simmered inside various pots and pans. The smell filled the house and floated out the open windows, tempting street animals and passerby alike. The Grim Reaper, who didn’t care much for food, watched as the girl walked up the stairs to her room, decking her shoes on the way.

He grinned and floated up behind her.

Sakuno entered her room, which still maintained its light yellow walls and tall white closets. It had been rather messy as of late, with school materials scattered around the floor along with magazines and a pair of red heels. The braided girl hummed as she dropped her bag in a corner, and undressed.

Feeling that he should respect her privacy, Death looked away. Not that it mattered, of course. Being Death, collector of souls, he had come across quite a few dead bodies that were deprived of covering fabric. The holocaust was one of them; being one of those large bulk jobs that Fate loved assigning him. But this, of course, was research. The girl was to be a mere tool in obtaining that insufferable brat’s soul and getting this mission over with.

Sakuno passed through him in the hallway, startling the reaper. He jerked back, surprised, sending one arm into the bathroom by accident. Stupid human children, Death grumbled, following after the girl as she bounded down the stairs to eat dinner.

.0o0.

It was dinnertime, and the world had suddenly become one very small, very friendly place to be. Death was wedged in between Sakuno and her father and the udon which they both loved so much. The atmosphere was absolutely sickening, but in a nice way.

“How was your day, Sakuno?” the bespectacled man asked, fishing a piece of meat from one of the serving bowls.

“Anou, it was good. We had an English quiz and Urumi-sensei threatened to fail all of us if no one confessed to chalking ‘Stoopid’ in reverse on her seat. Horio-kun nearly wet his pants when she confronted him.” She giggled and slurped a little more noodle soup. Death nodded approvingly. This Urumi character seemed like a very affable person. He’d check up on her one of these days.

“Er…how was your day, dear?”

The woman at the house speared yet another grilled shrimp and chewed it with determination. It was the only untouched dish on the table. She swallowed, downed a glass of water and cleared her throat. And then she filled them all in on what the next-door neighbor did for the whole day, not leaving out any details that would have made the experience a little more friendly. Mr. Ryuzaki opened his mouth to say something, before being shot with a menacing ‘Don’t even try’ look, which, for some reason, increased Sakuno’s digestive abilities.

“I’m going to do my homework now!” she announced with cheer nailed to the sides of her voice. The rhythmic thudding of feet on wood followed, as she descended the staircase yet again. Death sighed and got up himself, saluting the parents who were still engaged in a glarefest.

Pleasure dining with you.

With one swish of the scythe, he flew upwards, passing through the ceiling, to Sakuno’s room. It was a tedious job to use the stairs, honestly.

.0o0.

“Goodnight, Ryoma-kun.”

The tennis ball lying on top of her desk didn’t reply, merely glaring out at the world with its smug little eyes and arrogant expression. Death sniffed at it, then turned to watch as the girl curled up in her bed, pink pajamas and all. Her hair was undone, scattering over the pillows and the bunched up blankets. An array of stuffed toys watched, unmoving, as their mistress slept peacefully for yet another night.

But not now, said Death, running a carpal over the blade of his scythe. Tonight, you are mine.

The night was stiff, all of a sudden, and the crickets froze in mid-chirp. A dog’s barking stopped abruptly, as did the moving of the clouds and the activity of the other human beings in the house. Sakuno’s breathing stilled, and Death nodded with approval. Putting the breaks on Time was something he did quite often, because the fourth dimension was a very bothersome thing when you were in charge of soul-collecting.

And now, to enter.

The scythe glittered in what little light was left to drift in through the window. The reaper lowered it to the surface of Sakuno’s forehead, and slashed. A small, yellow light flickered for just a fraction of a second, as the girl’s soul covering sealed itself once more. But he had gotten in. He’d done it.

There are two parts to a human’s soul. The first part is the soul’s outer covering, and the second part is the soul itself. The covering is what binds body to soul; what Death had to make an incision in to enter Sakuno’s body. When a human being dies, the soul sheds its outer covering, but is still connected by a chain to its body, with the chain being the remains of the soul covering. Death’s job is to disconnect the chain by way of his scythe, thus separating the body from the soul.

“Lovely. Just lovely.”

His new voice was leaden and lifeless, yet feminine. It would take a while to get used to.

Sakuno’s eyes flickered open. The warm, amber light that had always twinkled was gone. Instead, her eyes were a pair of black voids, blank and infinite. Death felt his new body, moving around, testing it. It felt odd, he decided, to feel, to touch. He hadn’t inhabited anyone’s consciousness in ages, with the last one being an obscure king from the medieval era. Sakuno leaped off the bed with surprising agility, and walked (from Death’s point of view, not being able to float was torture) to her closet, ripping the white doors open with strength that simply did not befit a girl of her size and temperament.

“Er. That has to be fixed.” Death, now Sakuno, turned away from the wreckage and whirled around, grinning. “Now…it’s time for a change of wardrobe.”

.0o0.

An hour and a half later, Death was finished. At first glance there had been NOTHING, absolutely nothing black amongst the overly cheery array of annoying pastel colors that inhabited the girl’s wardrobe. But then, after the first hour of digging around the mound of fabric, he had found something that might possibly work.

It was a skirt, up to the knee, and full of black lace. There was a little too much lace, actually, but Death wasn’t about to be bothered by that. Next came the blouse, an ignored article of clothing that had been pushed all the way to the back. It had taken him twenty full minutes to find it, but it was worth it. Mostly silk, with a bit of velvet and sleeves that were puffed in a rather odd fashion. A black halloween cloak went over that, and everything was complete. Nearly.

Death marched to the shoe cabinet and pulled out a pair of dusty combat boots. Looking at Sakuno, he’d been surprised that she’d own a something like this, but, well, there were surprises in every human being. A few minutes of tugging and rolling on the floor followed, and then the boots were in place. Now, for his scythe.

The girl waved her hand in the air and the weapon dropped out of nowhere, clattering to the floor noisily. Death—rather, Sakuno grimaced, picking up the scythe and swinging it experimentally. The black retinas gleamed sullenly, excitedly. Now the brat would die.

“Echizen Ryoma, I’ve come for you.”

.0o0.

Despite having studied humans for thousands of years, there were still a few things that Death did not quite grasp. For instance, the need to use the front door because there are simply no other alternatives, as well as the need to eat, and dress up properly, and sleep. And that no matter what, good parents never ever let their only daughter sneak out at night and go over to her classmate’s house and kill him. Never ever.

“Sakuno! Breakfast!”

The morning call. He had heard it so many times during past reapings, and yet, when prompted to respond to it, could not. I’m Death, Death grumbled mentally, I am the sealer of souls, bringer into the afterworld, the final dimension. I don’t need to take orders from a plucky human being…

“SAKUNO!” her mother called, “You’ll be late for school!”

“School,” said Death, “Is beyond me.” He dressed Sakuno more or less correctly, save for the ribbon. It lay in a noose, neatly tied and ready to hang. A pink noose, but then you can’t always have your cake and eat it too. Death grabbed the school bag and walked down the stairs a bit stiffly. From there, everything attacked him…the smells, the texture, the HUMANITY.

“You haven’t braided your hair properly,” observed Mrs. Ryuzaki, putting her hands on her hips and scrutinizing her daughter. The Grim Reaper squirmed under her gaze, feeling uncomfortable. True enough, the unruly auburn locks ran wild, sticking up in some places that it should not.

Mrs. Ryuzaki sighed the sigh that all mothers of teenagers sigh, which is a sigh of half-resignation. She took her daughter’s hair in her hands and began braiding. Death froze, unsure of what to do. And then that’s when it happened. Slowly, Sakuno’s real self began to wake up. It was a small, groggy voice that occupied one corner of her consciousness, slightly confused and slightly scared.

‘Hello?’ it said sleepily, ‘Who is this?’

This is Death. I think you’d better go back to sleep.

Needless to say, that was the only answer that the real Sakuno got for the remainder of the day.

.0o0.

History was the easiest, wussiest subject ever. Death couldn’t believe that HE, who had the entire memory of time stored in his skull, had to be put up to answering easy-as-pie questions about the trivial events that happened in trivial humans’ trivial lives. It was insensible torture, and pitifully effortless. Sakuno’s body looked around at the other students surrounding her. The loud-mouthed friend was gripping her forehead so tightly that it would break at any moment. The boy sitting behind her was chewing up his eraser, and eventually, the rest of his pencil. And Echizen…

Sakuno turned to the boy a few seats away from her. His paper was turned over, ready for submission. It was still a half hour before the bell would ring. Death narrowed the girl’s eyes in annoyance. Who did that clingy little brat think he was? No one could defeat Death when it came to History…

“Don’t tell me you’re finished already.”

It came off as a high-pitched, prissy remark that echoed throughout the quiet classroom. Ryoma and everyone else turned to look at the usually quiet girl with wide, surprised eyes.

“I am,” he said, a question mark drawn clearly across his face.

Death smirked, and everyone else gasped. They had never seen that expression on Ryuzaki before. She usually just smiled or got a little angry, or looked tired or shy or embarrassed…you get the picture. But she never smirked. Not really. Not ever.

“No one can defeat me, Death, Departer of Dreams, Gatekeeper of the Afterworld. My memory spans a thousand lifetimes—no, ten thousand lifetimes!” Sakuno stood and pointed a finger at the bewildered young man, standing up.

“If you, lowly human, think that you have a chance of beating me, then you are horribly mistaken. No one defeats the Grim Reaper. No one! Especially not a life-loving, smart-aleck, arrogant brat like you, Echiz—“

THWACK.

Tomoka had done good, for once. Perhaps hitting her best friend with a trigonometry book wasn’t the safest idea, but it worked. Everyone watched, open-mouthed, as the girl collapsed to the floor in a heap. The class fell deathly silent, and Ryoma couldn’t help but stare. The expression-devoid boy was seldom freaked out, but this was one of those rare, rare moments. Not only did Ryuzaki shoot off her mouth, but she called him names as well. And she called herself Death, which was weird…

“I think you should take her to the nurse’s office, Echizen. After all, you’re finished, aren’t you,” Said the teacher, a little uncertainly. “Mental breakdowns in the middle of History exams are not uncommon. But…” he trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

“Un.”

Wordlessly, Ryoma stood from his chair and collected the unconscious girl from the floor. She was breathing, at least. But she was weird. The whole day had been weird, actually. He carried her rather awkwardly to the classroom door, having to kick it open. Walking down the hallway to the nurse’s office, Ryoma was met with more than a few curious stares.

“What’d you do to her, Echizen?” queried an amused Kikumaru.

The boy, on the other hand, simply ignored his senpai.

He had started the day on a good note, and no way was he going to let some comment from the redhead ruin it. His bad luck had vanished quite suddenly, with his bruised arm healing too rapidly for the doctor to believe, and permission from the coach to be able to play tennis again. Fuji-senpai said something about it during practice, but he hadn’t been paying attention right then…

.0o0.

Deep inside the recesses of Sakuno’s temporarily unconscious mind, two voices conversed. One was Death, and the other was the real Sakuno. The reaper was apologetic but unperturbed, and the girl was…clueless.

I think I’d better let you handle the daytime part, said Death rather ruefully. I’ll get the boy when it’s nighttime. That way no one will suspect me…I mean, YOU.

‘Huh?’ said Sakuno. But, unlike last time, she didn’t get an answer.

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I hope this chapter cleared up any questions about the plot. As much as he is catlike, Kikumaru-kun isn’t a cat. :D I had a lot of fun writing this one, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it. Yay! A Sakuno chapter. I hope I didn’t make her OOC or anything. Disturbed? Confused? Leave a review:) and please ignore all grammar/spelling mistakes