"You're the most precious thing to me
"You're the most precious thing to me." Her hands shook. The barrel of the gun lay cold against his head.
Pale eyes filled with tears. A bang on the nearby door jolted her, but her grip on the gun only tightened. "They aren't going to take you away from me…" she whispered.
A smile flashed, sparked in his crimson eyes. He nodded and her tears fell.
They found her in a wet crimson bed, a gun in her hand. At her feet, the body of one Koki Kariya. Her eyes peered fiercely at them, hands clutching at a bag. She threw it at them. Guns clicked as the men stood at attention, but the bag merely skittered across the floor, blood-stained bills scattering the floor.
"Seems we don't need it any more," she said simply, moving to stand as the guns poised ready and they cried at her to stop. She eyed them dangerously as she continued to move. "Go ahead. Shoot me. It's not like I care."
No shot was fired.
She waited for a moment, half hoping some crazed officer might sling some lead into her head. No one moved. With a sigh, she turned to the head of the group, her hand extended.
"Toss me the cuffs, would ya?"
- - -
Two years on death row. Two miserable years. She should've just shot herself with Kariya.
The guilt weighed on her. Her first kill.
Odd how it was the only person in the world she gave a damn about, but it was their ticket to eternity. At least now, both of them would be in Hell together.
She turned her back from the squad, heard the clack of the guns as they set to fire.
The last thing she saw was the wall painted in blood.
- - -
"We've got our Bonnie," Megumi Kitaniji murmured, his face averted as he spoke to the shrouded figure before him. A chuckle emerged from the shrouded man, his hand extending to pat the Conductor on the head.
The Angels were giving him Hell about this Koki Kariya. His imaginative powers were said to be stronger than even Kitaniji's, and the Angels wanted him in their ranks. Only the Producer, Sanae Hanekoma, seemed to understand how difficult it was to arrange such a thing.
The biggest problem was his entry fee. The thing most precious to him was a girl called Uzuki Yashiro, his partner in crime during his life. Problem was, she wasn't dead yet. And reaching into the RG and killing her was somewhat difficult, considering that she was under the best restraint Japan had to offer.
Difficult, at least, unless he used a large amount of power there, a risk he wasn't willing to take. One Angel was not worth the kind of attention he might attract to the RG, a realm that he wanted to keep peaceful.
So he had to make due with a pale form of the Yashiro girl, Kariya's memories of her. And despite the Reaper's best efforts, the orange-haired man beat the Game.
But the Fates smiled on him.
When his entry fee was returned, Kariya asked to become a Reaper instead of coming back to life. It seemed that he wanted to wait for his pink-haired spitfire.
And now it was all coming together. Now all he needed to do was make sure Uzuki Yashiro was erased.
- - -
"I'm playing the Game again."
Damn. He should have forseen this. Choosing his words carefully, he tried to persuade the junior Reaper to do things his way.
"Kariya, I'm sure she'll be fine," he soothed, approaching the tenacious man. Kariya shook his head.
"No. I'm not taking any chances. Either I help her, or I go." Crimson eyes flashed intelligently, his grin spreading wickedly. "I know something odd is going on here. You don't want me to die, it seems." His hand waved nonchalantly, Kariya turning from the Composer. "If you don't allow to let me play again, I'll erase myself." A low laugh escaped from him. "And you wouldn't want that, would you, Mr. Composer?" His steps echoed on the glass floor, fish scattering in the opposite direction. A smile spread across Yoshiya Kiriyu's face. No wonder the Angels were so desperate for him to join them.
- - -
They won. It had been a hard week, but they had won. And now he would finally figure why the hell he had decided to play the Reaper's Game again. His steps echoed across the glass floor that was the Compser's Pad.
A sense of deja vous ran through him, like a shiver up his spine.
And the world flashed white, enveloping him and his partner. She clutched to him, her pale eyes scared. Kariya grinned at her.
"Don't worry, Pinky, it means we won. We're going to live again and we'll get our entry fees back." He gave her hand a kind squeeze. "Just promise me that you'll buy me that bowl of ramen when we get back, m'kay?" Uzuki nodded, her face tense, but he saw the trust in his eyes. An invisible hand squeezed at his heart. He was seconds away from wrapping his arms around her when a voice rang out from a corner of the white room, a voice hated but familiar.
"Ah, a touching reunion. How nice..." The Composer, Megumi Kitaniji, approached, his eyes studying them from behind his trademark sunglasses. Kariya sneered.
"Yup, Shades, we made it. So give us our entry fees back and bring us back to life." His body shifted, half concealing Uzuki from the Conductor. He felt her small protest, but it was swallowed by her fearful shaking. Megumi stared for a minute before laughing and then sighing.
"Well, it seems that I can only give you half of what you ask. You see, there have been orders from above. The two of you will become Reapers, not go back to the RG."
Both Kariya and Uzuki rushed forward, anger and betrayal etched in their faces. Their mouths opened in protest, but Kitaniji cut them off.
"The Composer is unmoveable on this subject. He says that it's out of his hands, though what that means..." he trailed off, his voice uncertain. Sometimes, he felt as if the Composer was hiding something. He shook himself, raising hands to the two Players. "However, you will get your entry fees back."
The two calmed, still angry, but somewhat pacified. Kariya nodded, his hand extended.
"Alright, then. Give 'em here!"
Kitaniji laughed. Koki Kariya was one without respect for others, yet he commanded so much unwillingly. A mind truly worth study. Megumi was looking forward to the years he had to watch this orange-haired man evolve.
So he gave them back their entry fees.
- - -
Blood, murder, money. Women and children running from a masked man, who pointed a gun from them all. A masked woman collecting money from the tellers.
The woman's mask coming off. The masked man kissing the woman's pink hair.
Men with guns. A death sentence for the man, life in prison for the woman. She had never killed. The woman killing the man so that she could die, too. And a whisper-
'See you in Hell, Koki.'
- - -
She screamed. Kariya. She remembered. She remebered, damn it! His blood on her hands, his life fading from his eyes.
She killed him so that they could be together in Hell. And yet here he was, in a place far from Hell.
And still, she had killed him.
She screamed again, curling in miserable agony. Her pale eyes found his crimson ones worried. For her. It made her sick.
Recoiling from the orange-haired man, she glanced up at the Conductor, who watched, unattatched. Her eyes filled with tears as she kneeled in front of him. It took a moment to find the strength to speak.
"Take it away..." she whispered, her hand stretching to touch Kitaniji's shoe, begging for mercy. "Just...please..."
A silence wrapped the trio. Finally, Kitaniji nodded, his hand bushing her hair gently. She collapsed like a doll.
"Take her to your home, Kariya. She will awaken soon, and she won't remember a thing about you."
Kariya stood silent, his crimson eyes filling with tears. What was Clyde without his Bonnie? And as the Conductor left silently, Kariya noticed something small that had fallen from Uzuki's pocket. A strawberry lollipop.
A sob wrenched from his chest, his fingers curling around it carefully.
And if you go, furious angels will bring you back to me...