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Blue

Chapter 1

The Daily Grind

Ronald Knox grinned and waved as he walked past the Administrative Department, winking at the ladies seated at their desks. Ronald was popular with the ladies; he always had been. He supposed it was his boyish looks and fun-loving personality. It didn't really matter to him. All that mattered was enjoying the exceptionally long life he had been granted as a Shinigami. The orange and brown haired young man would look like a teenager forever, a thought that made his grin wider.

The young Shinigami's grin faded as he passed through the doors and into the Dispatch Society. He readjusted the lawnmower Death Scythe he carried over his shoulder and greeted the other Shinigami in the room with a curt nod. The atmosphere immediately changed whenever he entered this room. Everyone was so serious here, and it drove Ronald up the wall with boredom.

The only other Shinigami in the room at the moment were Alan Humphries and Eric Slingby, both of whom were Ronald's superiors. Alan, tall, thin, with short brown hair and the vibrant green-yellow eyes of all Shinigami, sat at his desk reading over what looked like a report. It probably had to do with rising death rates caused by the Summer outbreak of disease in the human world. Eric, taller and more built than Alan, with longer black hair, was typing quickly on his company computer; probably writing a report on the same thing Alan was more than likely reading. William T. Spears, the stern Shinigami who acted as the boss for their area of the dispatch, was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's William at?" Ronald asked, sitting at his own desk and ruffling through the stack of paperwork that had been left there, no doubt by their "boss."

"Went for a coffee. He was trying to get away from Grell, but of course the idiot followed him." Eric smirked.

Ronald chuckled at that. Grell Sutcliffe, the last member of their branch of the dispatch, was the most flamboyant person he had ever met. He loved to follow William around and prattle on and on about their nonexistent love and passion. When he wasn't drooling over Will, he was swooning and gushing about a demon named Sebastian he had met years ago. Both were disgusting tirades to have to listen to, yet it persisted. It was just something that happened daily at the Shinigami Dispatch Society.

A low click alerted the small group to the return of the two who were missing. William, a thin man who always wore his dark hair slicked back, entered first with an irritated look across his face. He used the end of his Death Scythe, a kind of spear with a clamp at the end, to push his glasses up his nose as Grell swaggered in after him, his cheeks flushed. Grell was noticeably shorter than the others, but still wouldn't be considered short by human standards. The only Shinigami that didn't wear a simple black suit, he preferred a bright red jacket and black pants instead. It matched perfectly with his outrageously long, blood-red hair and red-rimmed glasses.

"Ronald, you have some souls to collect today. I suggest you get going, or you'll be working overtime." William spoke evenly, having gotten very good at controlling his emotions over the years.

"Ooh, you're as cold as ever! Bossing the kid around without so much as a hello! It makes me weak in the knees!" Grell gushed, grinning widely and flashing his shark-like teeth.

"I suggest you strengthen your knees and get moving. You have souls to collect today, too." Will growled at him, doing his best to ignore him otherwise.

"Oh, you're so mean!" Grell pouted, following Will to his office.

Ronald and the others sighed, and Ronald stood and pulled the list of souls to be collected today out of his pocket. He opened it quickly and looked over it before groaning; there were 16 people set for him to reap. "Looks like it's another busy day." he griped.

"Yeah, well, we're understaffed. Until we get at least one more person, we're all going to be busy for many days to come. I suggest you hurry up before Will comes out here and scolds you." Alan warned lightly.

"Yes, senpai." Ronald nodded respectfully and jogged from the room quickly.

The building was getting fairly busy by now. Shinigami in black business suits passed by in groups, carrying papers, Death Scythes, and other items associated with the business of collecting souls. Their glasses flashed in the buzzing lights overhead; Shinigami were notoriously near-sighted, and had to wear glasses to do their jobs.

Ronald allowed his smile to return once he had finally gotten out of the building. It was a warm and sunny day outside, the kind of day that always cheered him up when work had brought him down. He looked over the list of souls again, just to make sure that he had all of the times right, before rushing to get to work.

Several hours later, the weary young Shinigami was perched atop a church roof, waiting for the evening service to end. His last soul of the day, that of an elderly man named Don Fisher, was sitting inside. He was scheduled to die after a long, difficult battle with cancer. Sadness crept into Ronald's heart as he looked over the man's information. He had been a devoted carpenter before the disease made him too weak to do his job. He was a loving husband, caring father, and compassionate grandfather. He enjoyed golfing, reading, and spending time with his family. He was devout in his faith; yet, he was going to die minutes after walking out of the great wooden doors of the church.

The ringing of the church bell violently shook Ronald from his thoughts, and he covered his ears as the deep tolls rolled from the giant bell behind him. He squinted and looked down, watching as people began to filter out of the church. Then there was the target, shuffling slowly out of the building and out into the cool night air. He was alone; apparently his family had decided not to attend service that night. Ronald sighed. At least there wouldn't be anyone to see him. However, it had to be terribly lonely to die all by oneself.

Don Fisher turned a corner and began on his way home. He walked slowly, hunched over, and it was clear that he was in pain. Ronald glanced at the watch he wore on his left wrist. It was 8:04. Don was scheduled to die at 8:07. He had three minuted left to live. He wouldn't even make it to the end of the street.

Ronald was right. Halfway down the abandoned street, the elderly man collapsed to his knees, groaning loudly in pain. The fatal disease was finally going to win, as it often seemed to do. The Shinigami jumped from his place on the roof and ran to the man's side, carrying his Death Scythe over his shoulder. The man looked up at him with milky gray eyes which seemed to be pleading for help. Ronald tried to still his racing heart and swallow the tears he was struggling not to make. This was the hardest part of his job. The eyes of the dead had long ago begun to haunt his dreams, for he was not able to help them.

"Young man...please...help me...my wife lives not far from here, on Fifth Street. If you...run..." the dying man panted at him softly, his life already fading.

"I'm sorry." Ronald offered sorrowfully.

The man seemed to be confused until he caught sight of Ronald's lawnmower, which the Shinigami was lowering close to him.

"So it's true, then. Shinigami exist...I never believed in those old legends..." the man gasped.

Ronald gave him a small smile.

"Rest well, sir." he muttered before revving the lawnmower and thrusting it onto the man's body.

The man cried out loudly in pain before falling still. Long tendrils of what looked like transparent film rose from the body and swayed around Ronald. The Shinigami's eyes narrowed a bit at this; it was the man's Cinematic Record, his memories preserved in movie-like clarity. Ronald collected them quickly in Don Fisher's file, and all traces of life left the man's body; he was dead.

Ronald cast another glance at his watch and sighed.

"8:07. Just another day at the Dispatch Society."

A new fic about Ronald Knox! A friend of mine found a Kuroshitsuji zodiac, and I found out that I am Ronald Knox! I'm a Scorpio, by the way, for anyone who's curious. Anyway, I adore Ronald, so I decided to write a fic for him since my last fic with him in it had a sad ending. Poor Ronnie! Hope you Silverlings like it!

~Silver