Hello! Scheduled Spontaneity here! This is my own story about the man we've come to know as a Reaper, 777. But what of before he was a Reaper? This fic will [hopefully] lay out the story of his days as a player, the first and only un-Pacted player at that.

I would appreciate feedback on anything from plot to writing style, but above all I hope you enjoy this story.

How would you feel if you woke up somewhere that wasn't your house? Let's clarify; not your house, not even indoors.

In the middle of the street.

In the middle of the city.

In the middle of the crowd.

And none of them can see you. No one listens, no one even spares you a glance as you plead to know what's going on.

Because you are dead.

~Day 1~

This is what a boy (no, a man, no…a teen. Late teens, but still…) registers and realizes as he first wakes. He is in the Scramble Crossing in the middle of Shibuya.

He is entered in the Reaper's Game, a week long challenge. He's playing for life or death… or rather, playing only for the former. Death is one thing he already possesses.

"Shit," he, 777, swears. The blonde stands to brush himself off. Reaching up to put a hand behind his spiked hair, 777's gray eyes pierce through the crowds as they walk through him. He is aware of the 'rules,' or 'conditions,' or 'guidelines,' whatever they are called. [Get a partner, make a Pact, do the mission,] beat the game. You don't get a partner, you can't fight Reapers and Noise, any you are ultimately erased. It's as simple as that, no 'second chance' for you.

But 777 doesn't aim to lose, not even close. Unfortunately, finding a partner might prove to be difficult.

Especially if you're not looking for one.

You see, 777 had always been slightly rebellious. Now, he's dead, and unfairly so. In his eyes, he was forced into a week long peril to gain something that should not have been lost, no, taken, in the first place. In his eyes, it was time to beat these…these 'people,' if they were indeed that, at their own game. Er, 'Game,' that is.

'No pun intended,' 777 thought wryly. '…And now I'm talking to myself. Wonderful. At least with his mich to think about I might not go crazy…'

777 was jerked out of his contemplation by a short buzzing.

"My cell…" Flipping it open, 777 read a text.

"Reach 104. You have 60 minutes. Fail, and face erasure. –the Reapers." He snapped it shut again.

"I should just leave this for someone else," he mumbled. If another Player clears the mission, it's cleared for everyone. As of now, 777 didn't need to participate.

However, he hadn't taken two steps when a group of jellyfish appeared. "Wh-what the fuck?" he yelped. He jumped (read: stumbled) back as their tentacles reached for him. "Shit!" he yelled, and broke into a run.

Whilst sprinting through the Scramble, 777's mind whipped through possibilities. 'Should I make a Pact? The Noise wouldn't, no, couldn't, attack. I'd be safer.' Slightly disoriented by running through people, 777 tripped, and fell. Sparing a glance back, he discovered that the Noise were still in pursuit. He scrambled (no pun intended) to his feet and took off.

'But another Player wouldn't go with my screw-the-rules plan, and I'm not going to give that up. No, no partner…what I need are loopholes.' The un-Pacted player would have wracked his mind further, when he hit a wall.

Literally. An invisible wall. "Goddammit!" he screamed. He whipped around, and spotted a Reaper. He stalked up to him, and the Wall Reaper automatically said "You wanna pass this wall?...Erase four of those Noise." He must have made it up on the spot, because he stared out into the Scramble for a good minute before pointing at a Noise symbol…the one with the jellyfish.

But before 777 could even wind up to hit the monotonous Reaper or take off running from Noise again, two people sprinted past him, headed straight for the 104. "Objective met," the Reaper mumbled, sounding slightly miffed at the mystery pair's quick departure, and disappeared.

777 couldn't believe his luck. Taking a few tentative steps forward, he was pleased to find no wall in place. With a grin making it's way onto his face, 777 began to run for the umpteenth time that day.

~day1~

As he reached the 104 building, 777 glanced at his hand. In his blind, Noise-induced, panic, he had ignored the pain resonating from his palm. Looking now, he saw numbers counting down. 'Oh,' he thought. 'My time limit?' But as soon as he thought the words, the numbers vanished, the paint going with. It hadn't reached zero, nowhere close. It was only somewhere around 35 minutes.

Looking over the area, 777 noticed a number of people talking quite seriously, about five or six pairs of them. Noticing the way they ignore the crowd and vice versa, 777 decided to walk over. "Hey," he greeted.

They all looked up, startled. "You, you're a player?" one boy ventured. "Obviously," 777 replied, a bit annoyed. Was this kid stupid? 'No, probably just shocked,' 777 mused. 'After all, he's dead too.'

Most of the other players had gone back to their partners and their conversations. One girl, trailed by another, approached 777. "Hi!" she greeted cheerfully. She was rather forgettable, save the bright streaks in her hair.

"My name's Nami-chan!" (1) The other girl looked at him with pale brown eyes. "I am Yume," she said, trailing off at the end in favor of looking expectantly at Nami. "Sorry, u-um…Yume just takes this super seriously!" Nami giggled nervously.

"S'fine. We all should."

"Yeah, it's just that, Yume's not only fighting for herself." Yume looked close to tears. "I-I'm also fighting for my mother," she said quietly.

This confused 777. "You're what?" he asked.

Nami blinked at him. "Her entry fee," she began. "It was her mother. Don't you know? To play the Game, our most precious thing is taken form us."

777 ground his teeth. This damn Game…his life, and now his 'most precious thing'…but what was it?

"For me it's my name," Nami continued, still chattering away. "It's the only thing that made me different, besides my dyed hair. I have to go by Nami until I get it back. I don't even know it right now." Drifting off in thought, she began mumbling letters and syllables, always following with a "No, that's not it," or some other variation thereof. Yume remained silent.

Suddenly, Nami straightened up, remembering something. "Oh, sorry!" she exclaimed. "What's your name?"

"777"

"Ehhh? That's not normal." A look of light jealousy glimmered in Nami's eyes. "Why?" she asked. "Where'd you get it?"

A sudden emptiness hit the 18-odd-years player.

"It's…

"I'm-"

He clutched his head as a sudden bolt of pain shot through him. Lowering his hands after a few moments, he saw they were shaking. His eyes were wide, and mostly unfocused on anything. Yume stared in shock. "That's your entry fee?" she whispered. "I don't know," 777 choked out. (2)

"Must be," she continued. "It must have been very, very, important."

"Speaking of important," Nami cut in, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "Where's your partner?"

"Don't have one."

Shock played over both girls' faces, only to be replaced by pity. "O-oh," Nami said, in a subdued voice. Yume stared, before slowly saying, "We…have to go." Both girls shuffled off through the untouchable crowd.

777 let them go. He didn't mind, he understood. There must be no other single players. He was alone, without a Pact. If he had any doubts about his decision any alternatives were out the window.

Those two girls had left because it must be too painful to become friends with someone who you believe will inevitably die. They didn't want themselves to get hurt. It's too bad, though, that they pitied him, someone they believed to be doomed, instead of focusing on themselves.

That way they may have seen an attack coming on Day 3. (3)

777 didn't attempt to figure out his namesake. He was fairly confident that it was not his birth name. He, or someone close to him, must have done the renaming. It must have been important, too. Obviously, seeing as it was his entry fee, but also because the name had stuck in the first place.

Another hour's thought revealed to him that other things were fuzzy in his mind. Mostly, memories of his family and friends of family were affected, and really only recent things. He could remember stuff he did when he was a younger kid, as much as anyone can, anyway.

His last conclusion as he reclined against the 104 was that they, his family and friends thereof, must have something to do with his name, and that he needed to figure out a game plan.

Er, Game plan.

After that, he fell into the depths of unconsciousness.

~Ends Day 1~

Author's note!

(1) I chose the name 'Nami' because it's a homonym for 'ordinary' or 'normal' in Japanese. So cruel…

(2) Severe headache is a result of attempting to recall a memory that isn't there anymore.

(3) Yume and Nami, preoccupied by pity, concern for others, and not themselves or each other were erased by wolf Noise. It was…avoidable. The Noise was possessing a man, and they decided to help him despite it having nothing to do with the day's mission.

As a result, Yume will never see her mother again, and her mother will never emerge from the seemingly random coma she lapsed into the day Yume died [read: entered the Game]. Nami will never recover her name. It was Suzu. She was the only Suzu in school, and she'll never know it.

Both their Souls eventually will flow back into Shibuya's Music, to become something else. Eventually.