A/N: This story is a companion to Mai Otome Remix. Please read both for maximum enjoyment!

Chapter 1 – Arrival

It is a funny thing, dying.

The act was so simple and abrupt and entirely pointless. It didn't hurt. At least, it didn't hurt for me.

But even if it didn't hurt—even if people knew that it didn't hurt—we would fear death, all the same. It is the one thing we can't escape from, the only thing we can't convince ourselves we have power over. It is so terrifying and dark and black because all living things must die. We fear it because death is the end of existence, or if you choose to believe it, the beginning of another.

And so we tie it up in brightly colored bows and create stories and myths and rituals—if only to ease our trembling hearts.

When people try to imagine death they dream of Angels from heaven or of some midnight specter come to collect their souls. They picture that last breath of a dying soldier accompanied by thundering hoofbeats in the wind, or of brilliant white light and harps. But, really—the act of dying—all it boils down to is a fleeting image of emerald embers in the wind.

One moment I am awake and the next I am dead. It is as simple as that. I was alive, and then—just a moment, an instant, a beat later—and my body was blown to the four corners of Earl.

How did I die? I don't know. I probably will never know. An errant bullet? A bubble of air to the heart? Spontaneous combustion? The more I think about it the less it makes sense. How does one die while hitchhiking?

Regardless of the method, I died without purpose. I died without meaning. I saved no one and instead left a million unfinished things behind.

Some hero I am.

But still…

I wonder if Shizuru will miss me. I wonder if Nao will reach the capital in time. I wonder if Garderobe will be regained and Windbloom restored. I wonder if I really made a difference.

I wonder why I am still wondering.

I wonder how they will remember me.

But that doesn't really matter now.

I am who I am.

I am the number two column.

I am the Gakuenchou of Garderobe.

I am Natsuki Kruger.

I am dead.

And…

I am here, wherever here is, steeped in the darkness—

Alone.

if I die before I wake

I am trapped.

The darkness is complete; the silence absolute.

I have no limbs to speak of, no lips to move, no eyes to see. My body is nowhere, but I am somewhere, stuck in this limbo. Am I just a disembodied thought-process? Or an echo of something that can't quite shut up? Am I not me, not what I think I am, a fake afterimage? Am I the last futile sparks of neurons misfiring in the brain?

I can't tell. There is no one to correct me.

Even though I have no longer have skin I find that I am cold. This place is cold. I'm residing in this void. Stuck. I don't belong here. I don't deserve to be here.

Or at least I think so.

I am left alone with these thoughts, my worries, and my insecurities—and the only thing that keeps me going are the last brilliant shards of my dreams. Dreams that I may never return to.

I think I am lonely.

It is natural isn't it?

I continue like this for a time, thinking in the darkness because it is the only thing I can do, until I hear something in this dead, silent, place.

It starts softly, as if I am just tricking myself into hearing, but then it continues repeatedly, unmistakably. The sound—it is the peculiar crunching of animal footfalls against fresh snow—footfalls that come closer in steady and slow strides. The footfalls radiate assuredness and it is coming unquestionably towards me.

Is this a hallucination? A dream within a dream? The reaper to collect my soul?

I don't know.

How much time has passed in this darkness? A heartbeat? An hour? A year? An eternity?

I can't tell.

But the stimulus is welcome. Even though I have no ears, I listen as it approaches. Even though I have no eyes, I watch as it pads into view.

And after a time the footfalls stop. It looks at me.

I stare at it.

And, oh, how I cannot help but stare.

It—no he is a magnificent wolf, the likes of which I have never seen before. I have no sense of proportions in this place, but I can tell with certainty that he is large. He stands there with a coat of iridescent silver-grey fur that shifts and changes in color as readily as a plume of smoke unfurls in the air. His golden eyes are piercing, glowing in a decidedly unearthly way, and I am drawn to them.

He shifts slightly, as he appraises me, the minutest of his movements radiating power and deadly grace. A cloud of frosty breath swirls downward lazily, as he pants in laughter.

This is not a normal wolf, but this is also not a normal place.

"Silly girl." The wolf speaks without speaking. Such a thing is a paradox, but all the same I feel his words reverberating deeply into my soul. It is a deep noise, a deep feeling, solid and stable as the earth itself.

I should be afraid, but I'm not. The wolf is somehow familiar, its tone comforting.

I am not afraid.

"You are not dead." The wolf focuses his golden eyes at me. "Not yet."

"Then, I need to go back."

"You cannot. Choices were made. Pills were swallowed." The wolf huffs in annoyance, "The matter is entirely out of your hands."

"That isn't fair!" I stress the next words. "Why me?"

"Life is never fair." The wolf answers, "It is just a matter of balance. There cannot be two, where there should be only one."

"But I don't understand!"

"You don't have to."

And then he snaps his jaw open as he howls a haunting melody— his sharp ivory teeth gleaming in the darkness—

what big teeth you have

—And I wake up somewhere else.

At first the intensity of the sun is too much for my eyes. My eyelids close instinctively, and I reopen them little by little, letting myself become accustomed to the light. As I do so, I listen to the sounds of the world.

There is a high pitched whine of engines tearing near and then far, followed by the sensation of air cutting by. And underneath all of the noise and vibrations, there is the steady roar of water against rock.

A street? A highway then? And the ocean?

It is a feast of sensation after the darkness. Everything feels fresh and exciting and slightly exaggerated. It is a little like being reborn.

My eyes are finally open, and I find myself in a strange, unfamiliar, place. This is not the Aries border, nor is it anyplace I have ever traveled to before. To my back is a cliff-face and beyond that is the ocean, a dizzying distance below. In front of me is a common asphalt road.

I wonder where I am.

Some of the vehicles, all of curious make, are slowing or stopping, their occupants gawking.

Some are whistling at me.

I wonder what they're looking at.

An errant gust of wind provides the answer for me. I feel a curious breeze below—goosebumps forming where there should be none. A thought makes me pause with dread, and then I look, my memories coming back to me in vivid clarity. The heat is already rushing to my face as I try to remedy the mistake.

I had arrived with my pants down.

Next Time: The Girl Named Shizuru

Author's Note: Yes, this whole chapter was a build-up so I could write the last line. I just couldn't help myself. Also, if you hadn't noticed by now, I usually respond to reviews in the story review section, since I usually like reading author responses to other people's questions.

Comments, Questions, and Criticisms are always welcome.