Prologue:

"Here you go, Hijiri."A tall and thin man said as he held out an old and cheap violin to the small boy standing in front of him. The violin was neatly carved down to the deepest and precious piece of wood. Two large forte signs were carved and burned black on either side of the carved out hole in the middle of the wooden instrument. A happy and proud smile was upon his lips and his tone was the kindest of voices.

"You're giving this to me, father?" the boy asked with a surprised gasp. He gratefully took the small violin and held it like it was about to break and it was up to him to keep it still and in pieces. Hijiri examined it with the lightest touch from his fingers, wanting to know every inch of the violin after first site. His eyes gleamed with excitement, wanting to master it. But one eye refused to be surprised. His left eye. It was barely fogged over but it looked like the fog would soon fully take it.

"Yes, you deserve it." His father patted his head and ruffled the dark brown hair into a bundle before leaving him out in the backyard to stare at the old yet new violin.

Hijiri's right eye kept a close watch on the violin while the other one just lingered without emotion or movement. But his left eye had picked up something that the right one could not. It was bundled up words that looked like a knife had scared deep into the wood. "What's this?" he asked and traced his finger lightly over it. The words were in a different language and unable to read. "Father?" he asked, thinking he was still there. But he wasn't. He turned around to look at him but only found that he was not there. The playful breeze began to howl as it picked up and cut against his small form. The howl seemed to get louder. Could that possibly be the wind? No, it couldn't be. It was too loud . . . too demonic. He turned around and there stood a man. Holding his new violin.

"I believe this is mine." The dark and large man said to him. He was dressed in black and it looked as though his skin was bleached red. Horns grew from his forehead and one draped over his right eye while the other stood straight up. His left eye was green and cat like from the way a black scratch ran down the middle of it. A tail laid limp between the creature's legs and his long and dark ebony hair covered up his entire face. Everything but his eye. He chuckled as he brought the violin up to starting position. He began to play the most beautiful song that Hijiri had ever heard. He recognized the tune as: "The Devil's Trill Sonata" by Giuseppe Tartini. As the song got closer to the end, it was harshly played. The strings sounded as though they were on edge to breaking.

"No, stop!" the boy cried as he fell to his knees. He clutched his ears tightly to try and block out the beautiful sonata that had turned deadly. His left eye began to throb horribly. It felt as though it was bleeding inside out. He looked back up and saw that the devilish violin theft had lost his left eye. Hijiri had lost his own left eye as well. His eye poured out blood from the hole in his head. "Stop playing!" he cried out as tears leaked from his normal eye while tears of blood leaked out of the other.

"Not until your soul belongs to me." The man shouted as he played harder. The quick and taloned fingers made some of the strings rip and curl up back to the top of the violin.

"Stop it now!" Hijiri screamed as he was jerked away from his sleep and back to reality. He clutched his left eye that was dishing out as much pain as possible. He pulled back to check for blood. Luckily, he found nothing but his own skin. He looked over at the violin. Not his violin. The one Kazusa gave to him. Tatsuya Otonashi's violin. But he was dead and it no longer belonged to him. His own violin had burned in the fire along with the band room and many other violins that belonged to his friends. He scooted from his bed and walked out the door to the bathroom. Hijiri had passed out while playing that violin and didn't take a bath. He reached up and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his navy blue school uniform. He walked out into it and started up the water warm to where he liked it.

What and who was that? Hijiri asked himself as he began to unbutton his shirt. He tugged off the school uniform from his body then placed them to the side where they would be later washed.

I don't get it . . . he said in the back of his mind and stepped into the shower. The hot droplets of water splashed him from head to toe. The steam built up from the hot water and fogged up his body and hid it in the mist. I just blacked out. And that dream . . . he rubbed his forehead with a deep sigh. That was a night mare. The pain in his eye had cooled down once he had gotten into the warm water.

Once the older Hijiri had finished cleaning up. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. He started to dry his wet and nude body off. He looked into the mirror and scanned himself over through the fogged up glass. His fingers ran along the mirror to wipe away the layer of transformed water. His dark brown hair was plastered to his face and shoulders. His cat like left eye was the first thing he saw. "That's it!" he shouted in a surprised way. "The 'Devil's Trill' is my solo to play at my concert!"

Chapter 1: Tsuzuki's Return

"Here comes the rain again, falling from the stars. Drenched in my pain again, becoming who we are as memory rests. But never forgets who we are."

Wake Me Up When September Ends; Green Day

It had been one month since Hijiri Minase's concert and a couple of weeks after his eye had been replaced back to his old one. His eye still throbbed with pain and he believed that sometimes in his sleep, his old demonic eye had returned. But he couldn't tell because his blind eye was becoming more blind with each day passing. He had hummed his piece, "The Devil's Trill Sonata" many times after that day.

"Ah! Why don't you ever stop humming that song? Sure, it's beautiful and all, but doesn't it get a little boring?" Minase's fried–Yamashita asked.

"Dunno . . . I like it, I guess." He rubbed the back of his head and chuckled nervously. Ever since Tsuzuki had left, he had hummed that song over and over again. It was like a drug that he could never get rid of. "Well, here's my stop, Yamashita. See you tomorrow!" Hijiri said with a carefree smile and a wave. He walked back into his room as he got into his house.

When he got into his room, he noticed something strange. His violin–the one that used to belong to Otonashi–was in a different spot than where he left it.

"How did this get here?" it was laid out on the bed, fitting perfectly in the sheets. It had white and fluffy feathers neatly placed around it.

"Hello, Hijiri." Tsuzuki's voice called out from the side of the room.

"Tsuzuki!" Hijiri screamed with joy at just the sound of his voice. His head jerked in the direction of his friends words, only to find nothing. "Tsuzuki?" he started to walk over into the nothingness. Maybe he really was there and it was just his blind eye fooling him.

"Where are you going?" Tsuzuki's friendly voice boomed out again. But this time, it was really him. He came up behind him and pressed his body close to the boy's back. His arms went about Hijiri's neck. The man's blue eyes sparkled with joy. His dark blue hair fell over his eyes while some hair tangled with Hijiri's.

"No where. I'm staying right here." He smiled and leaned back against him. "Why have you come back?" he asked and took a glance up at him, hopping he came on his own accord rather than for business.

"The violin . . . there's something on it. We haven't decided what it is exactly . . . your eye . . . " his eyes widened at the look of the devoured green eye. The Guardian of Death touched the eye's eyelid gently. The second he touched it, voices went through his head.

I believe this belongs to me . . .

Not until your soul is mine . . .

Tsuzuki quickly jerked back and brought his hand to his forehead. He knew that awful voice from somewhere. But whose was it . . . ? He tried to remember but all his memories seemed blocked off.

"Something wrong, Tsuzuki?" Hijiri asked. He looked over at him with a worried glance.

Tsuzuki quickly retreated his hand back to his side. "No, nothing's wrong." His voice was small, almost frightened. But he kept a straight face regardless to his worried tone. "Everything's fine."

"If you say so." Hijiri walked over to the bed and picked up the violin, handing it Tsuzuki's way. "Here, I can no longer play it without my left eye anyway." His voice was a whisper, like he was holding back something. Whatever he was holding back, it wasn't happiness.

"Thank you, Hijiri." His fingers reached out for the violin. The closer he got, the louder the voice became.

Not until your soul belongs to me . . .

Until it's mine . . .

Tsuzuki's hand once again withdrew back to his side. His head began to hurt badly. It was as if the words were being carved into his brain. That voice . . .

"Tsuzuki?" the boy spoke up again and tried to hand it to him once more but only failed to get him to take it.

"Keep it Hijiri." The Shinigami's eyes were speechless with fear.

"All right . . . " Hijiri laid down the violin back at its resting place on the bed. "Do you need a place to stay? You're welcome to stay here if needed." He said, turning back to Tsuzuki.

Tsuzuki froze for a split instant. Hijiri's fogged eye looked as though it had changed back to the cat like one that he got rid of. No, it couldn't be. He shook his head and allowed the thought and eye to return to normal. "No, I'm fine. Hisoka and I are staying at the Kyushu Sector." A sudden idea struck through his head. What if he asked Hijiri to come and stay over in Kyushu instead? Then he could get the violin without touching it! Yes! Then he would have it and won't even have to lay a finger on it. "You could come stay there with us while we're looking at the violin."

"Oh! Great idea!" Hijiri said with a cheerful smile. He would be able to see his friends once more. "Take the violin with you. We're gonna need it."

"Right." The violinist said with a nod and scooped up the wooden instrument into his hands. Unaware at what rested in a deep slumber inside of it.