Author's note: Hi! This is my first time uploading a fanfic, so I am still learning how to make it work. This particular fanfiction has two authors- one of my friends and I are writing it, and we have another friend who edits. I do Victoria's pov and she does Alex's... we have fairly different writing styles so it should be interesting (i hope!). After chapter 2 is posted, we plan on posting one chapter a week. Reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Prologue

Victoria's P.O.V.

I would like to say that I died a heroic death. However, that is not the case. It was actually an accident. No self-sacrifice, no dangerous battles, no "saving the world but dying right after". It was just a simple accident.

My death was two years ago. I was sixteen. My closest friend, Alex, had called to wake me up. It was daylight savings day and I had forgotten to reset my alarm, resulting in my waking up an hour late. I wouldn't normally have a problem with this, (sleeping is great), but it was a school day. Panicking, I hurriedly threw on some clothes, grabbed something to eat, and ran out of my house. The bus was long gone and the only option now was to run to school, which was about a mile from my house.

Running with a backpack makes one awkward and clumsy. I struggled to a traffic light and stopped to catch my breath while I waited for the light to change. And that was when it happened. Some idiot, who had most likely also been late to something, decided to run a red light. He hit another car, which caused his car to spin and hit yours truly.

It didn't hurt much… I didn't fully understand what had happened until I was standing above my own body. A long chain was hanging out of my chest – the other end was attached to my… now dead body. The chain had somehow been broken in the middle.

The same thing had happened to the idiot driver, except his chain hadn't broken. A few people had come to help, and one of them called an ambulance. The ambulance came several minutes later and was accompanied by police. They took the idiot driver into the ambulance along with my body. I thought about going too, but hey, I was dead. It wouldn't really matter if I went or not.

Then I remembered something Alex had told me a couple of weeks ago. Something about "seeing ghosts," (crazy, right?) and that there was "weird stuff." If I was a ghost, I figured, considering she could indeed see ghosts, then she should be able to see me. I walked to school for the second time that day.

When I walked into the classroom, her eyes widened a bit, but she didn't leap up or scream. Alex was two years younger than me. At age fourteen, she was in eighth grade; I was in tenth. People tended to find our friendship surprising because of our age differences. It didn't bother us – we had been friends for most of our lives. And in my death we remained friends. After school she asked me what had happened, and I gave her the full story.

We both attended my funeral. It was weird. Alex had to act like I was gone forever, even though I was standing right next to her. My family was there, of course, but they were all oblivious to my presence. Watching your own casket and body being put into the ground is strange, if not slightly disturbing.

Afterwards, Alex and I decided to remain close friends despite my being a ghost. I was also beginning to understand what she saw. I could see other ghosts now, and occasionally I caught glimpses of large, masked creatures. Those I would always avoid.

Now, skipping to two years after my tragic death, is where the real story begins. The date was January 12th, and Alex, now sixteen, was boarding a plane to Japan as an exchange student. I was accompanying her, of course, as an eighteen year old, but I was a "still looks the exact same because of death," eighteen year old. The plane took off, and we left America, leaving our past lives and strange occurrences behind us. But nothing is ever that easy, is it?

Alex's P.O.V

As I boarded the plane, I turned to look at the bustling airport one last time. For some reason, it felt as if this would be my last time in America. Sighing heavily, I got on the plane and quickly found my seat. As I sat down, my friend, Victoria, knowing that only I could hear her, began running up and down the aisle yelling obscenities. I flinched at her loudness and pretended that nothing was happening. I'd had to do that for the past two years, ever since the day she died.

I was in 8th grade when I began seeing ghosts. At first I thought they were figments of imagination, but then after seeing more and more of them, I realized that they actually did exist.

Several weeks later, I told my childhood friend, Victoria Black. I was sure she just thought it was a joke, until she appeared in my classroom with a chain hanging from her chest. She was telling me about how a car had hit her and how they carried her body away. She sounded stunned about the whole thing. When I noticed that I was the only one who could see her and that it looked as if I was staring at the wall behind her, I knew that my best friend had died and I was seeing and talking to her ghost.

We attended her funeral together. Although I knew she was right beside me, I couldn't help but shed a few tears, knowing that she would never be able to experience the happy life she should have had. It was hard trying to act as if I would never see her again. The worst part was seeing Victoria watch her mother break down and sob.

Two years after her death, Victoria still followed me around. Whenever I was at school, she would pull annoying shit like yelling obnoxiously and pulling pranks. She was probably just bored. Sometimes, though, people would find me talking to her. To them it would seem like I was talking to the air. That is probably why I am known as the weird girl who everyone avoids. If I didn't have Victoria, I would probably be a normal high school student with friends, but because I am always talking to "no one", I am avoided and occasionally bullied. It's nothing I can't handle, though.

A month ago before I left for Japan, I told my parents that I could see ghosts. At first they seemed surprised, but they soon became disappointed and even a little disgusted. Almost every night, I heard them argue about how they had made such a failure of a daughter and how they couldn't believe that I wasn't like my older sister, who was attending Harvard law school. That's probably why they shipped me to Japan as an exchange student. My destination was someplace called Karakura Town.

As I settled in my seat, I looked at the seat beside me that was supposed to be empty. Victoria had taken over it and her face was pressed up against the window as she looked outside. I smiled at her and closed my eyes, awaiting my new life in Japan.