It was a game really. A test made by those ever progressing and proud humans who could never truly understand the meaning of thought. At first Death hadn't even considered such a preposterous idea. Who in their right mind would allow such a dangerous game within Death City? Yet the more he thought about it the more he wanted to engage in it, to show that the weapons and meisters were more than capable of getting the job done. Collecting souls was a tricky business and only they could do it. Rivalry was a pathetic thing to begin, especially with such an important job, but the thought was still there. It fluttered through his mind like a poison butterfly and before he knew what happened his entire mind was rotting with the silly concept.

"Death Sythe," Death said, making his red-headed weapon look up at him from his place on the ground. "I need you to bring Ms. Johannes here. I would like to speak to her personally about this manner."

Spirit's eyebrow's furrowed. "You don't mean you're really going to do this…are you?"

Death stared over his school through the mirror. From here he could see the students going back and forth through classes, a few of the town folks loitering outside the school, and a mail man stuffing a few engorged envelops into the black mailbox. It was calm and peaceful for the moment, the perfect time to begin this little game.

"Of course I am. You see, people can doubt what we do all they want but when demons attack it's us they call." He looked back to his personal weapon. "Isn't that right?"

The weapon nodded. "But Johannes can't be trusted. If anything she'll probably take the opportunity to-"

"I know." The words were quiet yet firm. "But I can't risk this school getting shut down at the first major road-block."

"…Yes, Lord Death."

It was hard work wrapping the present. She had never been one for such precise up and down motions. Over, under, over under. The pale blue ribbon continued on like this until it looked a bit thick thanks to the way she was wrapping it around the square shaped box. Finally stopping on the sixteenth time she pressed a stubby finger down and tied a quick bow. Admittedly it was sloppy, one of the folds was bent too far for to the left, but she couldn't bother herself to correct it. Wriggling her finger out of the bow and tightening it she picked it up and handed it to the tall man behind the counter. "Here you are Sir. I hope your wife likes the picture frame."

The man looked the present over. "I hope so as well, she is rather picky of late with her mother coming and all."

The girl could feel the corner of her left eye twitch. "Is that so?"

"Mhm. Why just last week she said-"

A metallic crash sounded making the man look behind him. A tall girl with bright red hair and blank blue eyes held her hands out as if they held something. At her feet was a metal plate with lovely swirled etching in it.

A prized antique.

"Jennifer!" The girl behind the counter scolded as she stared at the silver plate. "Why'd you do that?!"

The man pushed up his round glasses. "Well, I'll be going then, I'll stop by again soon, Isabella."

Isabella didn't acknowledge the man and let him walk right out of the store. As soon as the door was firmly shut behind him Isabella sighed and leaned against counter, her head pressed against the cool dark wood, some of her light brown hair spread on it. "Did you have to use that? Now Andrew will be all over us like ticks on a dog."

"I had to…The man was bothering you, no one is supposed to bother you."

Isabella rolled her grey eyes before pushing herself up again, the movement causing her dark green apron to slip into place again. "You take things way too literally, Jennifer. He just meant that perverts shouldn't look up my skirt or something like that."

The furry cat ears on top of Jennifer's head twitched and the blue eyes narrowed. "That cannot be allowed."

Isabella sighed and propped up a bit of the counter that was connected to hinges and passed through the opening before carefully shutting it behind her. Passing by the nicely crafted tables and shelves that held lovely nit-knacks, she went to an expansive window that took up nearly the entire eastern wall. In the window was a setup of a small rocking chair holding a doll with skin as a pale as soap and a dark green dress that blended perfectly with her curly dark brown hair. In her tiny hands was a novel that had a girl sitting on a mushroom and black words printed on it. Leaning forward on the wooden stage she watched the people of the city walk through the cobble stone streets. Most of them had smiles on their faces and spoke excitedly to each other as if they were having some sort of fun to look forward to.

Yet the reason why she was standing around wasn't for the rustic scenery of the outside, instead she focused on the small shop next door. Her grey eyes focused intently on the brown door that had a small sign on it that clearly said 'gone for lunch'. Her stomach growled at the thought and her fingers curled into themselves as she waited for the owner of the tiny bakery to come back. "Hurry up, hurry up!"

"What's got your panties in a bunch?"

She twisted around and stared at a tall young man with short blonde hair that threatened to get into his sharp green eyes. "Andrew!"

The man gave a cocky salute. "That's my name! Now why're you standing around when it's still work hours? What if we got a customer or Jennifer needed you to go on a delivery? You've been getting lazy ever since we moved here."

The girl pouted but said nothing. It was true that her thoughts had started to scatter when they had moved to the ever strange Death City. It was an interesting place that often made her head spin in wonder and made her want to investigate every single nook and cranny. Especially the bakery shop next door that was famous for their strawberry cheesecake, her favorite treat. Sighing she went back to her post behind the old fashioned register while Andrew and Jennifer tidied up the place in a never ending cycle they seemed to have. The two looked like busy bees to the ever bored Isabella, in fact she desperately wanted to kick over a trash can just to see if their pattern would change.

Just as she was about to test this the door opened with a melodic tinkling from the bell. She looked up from the magazine she had been flipping through to see a green eyed girl with brown twin tails on both sides of her calm looking face.

Jennifer gave a low bow. "Hello valued customer, is there any way we can help you this afternoon?"

The girl blinked before glancing around. "Um…I don't think so, I was just browsing today."

"Of course, Miss."

Finding something more entertaining, Isabella pushed the magazine under a few books and watched the new customer. This girl seemed very comfortable in her skin and knew exactly what she wanted when she wanted it. Honestly, Isabella wouldn't be surprised if she was a student council president or something with all the confidence her small body held. For a second the girl lingered by a shelf filled with various books before her eyes glanced over to Isabella. Her thin eyebrows pushed together before she glanced back to the books.

Admittedly studying people was probably a very bad habit. But her curiosity was far more annoying than the dirty looks that she often got from people or their whispers on how weird she was. This never ending curiosity was what caused her to stare at people and wonder what it was they did on the weekends or how they even got to such a strange city. This girl in particular held her curiosity with such a confident stance and an…interesting feeling radiating from her. Unconsciously a stubby finger began rubbing her temple in slow rhythmic circles. Each small rub seemed to be accompanied by a pulsing hum that ignited a metallic taste in her mouth that reminded her vaguely of blood. Yet unlike blood it tasted okay, almost good, and only helped to fuel this strange feeling pulsing through her body like a controller on vibrate.

She was so caught up in the feeling that she didn't notice the stare that the other girl was giving her. "Hey, excuse me."

Isabella blinked and dropped her hand, the appendage hitting the solid wood of the counter making her hand throb. Yelping she cradled it to her chest and fought back the tears in her eyes. "Y-yes, Miss?"

"Were you trying to…" She grappled with her words. "sense my soul?"

"Huh?"

The girl opened her mouth to comment, but stopped when Jennifer walked up with a book in hand. "I noticed your selection, Miss. I hope that this book will be something that are close to your tastes."

She took the book hesitantly, her eyes glancing over the cover for a moment. "Thanks…"

Jennifer bowed. "Of course, Miss. I'll check you out while our current cashier repairs her hand."

Quickly taking the cue, Isabella moved aside and allowed Jennifer to move in. Yet instead of taking care of her throbbing hand she undid the green apron and put it on the counter before going out the door. She could have sworn she heard Andrew call out for her, yet instead of going back she hurried down the stairs, almost tripping over her shoe laces. Getting to the bottom step she looked both ways before running across the street. Getting to the other side she reached out and ripped the door open just for the smell of cinnamon and sugar to fill her nose and make her mouth water.

"Shannon, is there any strawberry cheesecake?"

A young woman with violet hair in a messy braid and dark brown eyes was behind the counter. Her circular glasses were firmly perched on her nose and bounced most of the light from the fan lights. Her thin eyebrows furrowed and she put her hands on her wide hips. "Can you not read? What does gone out to lunch mean to you? Didn't they teach you English all the way in Atlanta?"

Isabella made her way across the bakery to the counter that was covered with perfectly clean glass. Inside the counter was a variety of orderly cakes, cookies, puddings, and anything else that was exceptionally sweet. She leaned against the glass, smudging her finger prints all over it, and struggled to keep the drool off her face. "Public school sucks, Shannon."

"Guess you should go to the private school my brother goes to." She muttered before sliding the counter open and bending down. Her hands drifted among the sweets for several moments before finding the desired cake. It was a lovely molten white with stripes of bright red that seemed to practically ooze from the large vibrant and red strawberries. The young woman cut a thick slice and balanced it on the cake cutter as she rose back up to her proper height and put the slice on a white plate with a soft rose pattern on it. She then put the cake cutter away and shut the glass counter with a light click.

Isabella hummed happily as she picked up her dainty plate and went over to one of the eight circular tables in the bakery, pushing back a light wooden straight back chair and sitting down. "Your cake is defiantly the best!"

"You're just happy you don't have to pay for it."

The girl swallowed roughly and was about to say something when the door opened. Isabella's eyebrows furrowed when she noticed the girl from her uncle's shop. She walked with those firm steps she had, straight up to the far table that Isabella was sitting at. "Ma'am may I please speak with you?"

"Ma'am?" She understood she looked older than what she was. Her dark face was well matured and exceptionally thin. Her sharp grey eyes were somewhat angled in her head and had lost all of their roundness years ago. Her fingers were short, but they contrasted heavily with her tall height and somewhat plump frame. "Just call me Isabella."

The girl's face remained firm. "Isabella, do you mind if I ask you something?"

Shannon came from around the counter her hands on those wide hips of her's and the sun stopped reflecting on the right side of her glasses. "Is there something the matter, Maka?"

The girl glanced back to Shannon. "I was just curious about something."

The older girl stared at the other two before shrugging and going back to her place on the other side of the counter. When she was gone Isabella looked back to Maka who was staring at her awkwardly. "…So, Maka, what's it you wanna ask me?"

"Are you a weapon?"

"Huh?"

"A weapon," Maka said. "or meister. You know, they're able to weild or transform into weapons and you have no idea what I'm talking about…"

Isabella was staring at her with raised eyebrows and the cake fork close to her mouth but not quite there. A bit of the strawberry sauce was dripping off the bit of cake and onto the maple wood table looking like drops of blood. "No…"

The girl stared at her for several moments before finally saying. "You're not from Death City, are you?"

"Atlanta Georgia born and raised."

"And you've never heard of weapons and meisters?"

"Am I supposed to?"

Maka shook her head and stood up. "No, I guess it's not important. Sorry for interrupting you, please enjoy your cake."

"'kay."

She watched Maka walk away and the humming vibrations that she felt and tasted slowly disappear. However it was quickly replaced by something else entirely and as she stabbed her cheesecake she felt a streaming and buzzing in the back of her head. "…Mesiter…identified…"

Games are always fun no matter what.

Are you ready to play?

Can you cheat death?

Or will you be snapped up and spit out as death once again wins in this everlasting struggle?

There we go.