So this might piss off a few people... But for right now, You and I, Existing as We, is on hiatus. I didn't realize how much energy and creativity I shoved into The Little Girl, and I am just completely wiped out. But, I have recently become a dump of Reapertale -literally, the best Undertale AU in my opinion. Created by renrink on tumblr-, and have decided (mostly because this stupid idea wouldn't stop stabbing me in the feels) to rewrite The Little Girl -or more of do a Reapertale version of it. I had to dig through renrink's stuff pretty hard, and I think I got all the information I need to keep this story in check with their AU. So, it will still have a young human girl, and it will still have the sweet-and-lovable Sans, but it'll probably be more calm throughout. I want to also thank every single human being who has favorited, followed and reviewed my Undertale stories! At the end of this book, there will be a chapter completely dedicated to those people. Also, this takes place in modern day. Just to let you know! :) Anyway, I'm blathering on, so, LETS GET ON WITH IT -Bookman Old Style "Sty"

Prologue

The cloaked figure strolled above the bustling humans. He walked from rooftop to rooftop, the tall structures towering over the mortals. For some reason, out of all the places he'd been -Life's hidden garden, the Underworld, Ebott- this place was the most interesting, and amusing to him. His long scythe gleamed in the spring sun and he kept his hood flipped over his skull.

Death was tracking his next victim.

An elderly man, designated to die by food-poisoning at 8:48 a.m on 37th street, Manhattan, New York. The grim reaper looked at his Aqua-colored sand hourglass. A small strip at the bottom showed exactly what time it was, just in case he wasn't willing to read the sand properly.

8:46 a.m

Death hopped down to the street, landing on a lamppost. He was still above the humans and he clenched his jaw when he realized that if he even grazed one of these blood bags, it would be a lot harder to explain than just one wrinkly sack taking a fall. He sighed, seeing the former soldier stagger along, his ivory cane clicking on the concrete. Some would think, why was the God of Death currently awaiting this man's fate, if this Soul was not impure and dark?

Well, he was. He might not seem that way, but Ethaniel Mand was a murderer, an evil that harbored his heart could not be removed. In the war, he'd killed fifty of his own men, abused the nurses in a matter that is unforgivable in any way. The Peaceful Death was not here to greet him today. The reaper tutted as he tried to think of a way to reap the human's Soul without touching the sea of others. He tapped his scythe on the lamppost and jumped to another one, right above the target. The man froze and suddenly he thudded to the sidewalk, rasping wheezes and green vomit trailing from him. After a few seconds, the chunky substance became thin and bloody. Death came down, now having a clear area to do his work. Humans shouted in alarm as the man writhed weakly. They all surged backwards as the grim reaper lifted his scythe, a small smirk on his skull.

No one could see him but Ethaniel. The veteran's eyes grew wide and he tried to speak, but the moment Death's blade slid through his body, he lay limp on the ground, brown eyes faded and mouth agape. There was no wound to show the deed, but a pale grey wisp twirled out of the body, taking shape of the old man. The reaper flicked his wrist, and the spirit went into the concrete and down to the Underworld.

There were sorrowful chitters from the mortals and he turned to them, not really caring if one decided to foolishly go to Ethaniel. The monster was dead.

That's all that mattered.

He slightly tensed his body, preparing to teleport when something in the crowd caught his eye sockets.

A small human, shorter than he was, was looking straight at him. He paused, furrowing his brow and checked behind him. Ethaniel's body was already being taken by the ever-so-late paramedics, and he couldn't see anything that would cause the child to be staring so intently at him. He glanced back at the mortal, tilting his head to the right.

The human mirrored him, her big eyes shining in the light.

Death flinched and instantly found himself in the Underworld, feeling cold and jittery. Thin bursts of flame greeted him from the holes in the stone. The hall of spirits was busy greeting Ethaniel and he could see his brother in the entrance to the hall, laughing and talking with the few who had warmed up to the Peaceful Reaper. He scowled, walking past him and going to his "room." When he placed his scythe in its holder, he took out the hourglass, watching the sand sprinkle down silently. Once it was twelve p.m., he'd flip it over and have it empty out once more to the other side.

"Sans? How did it go? The man you brought seems very flustered right now. He's...actually asking for you."

Death turned his head, pushing off his hood. His brother was inspecting the human essence staining Sans' scythe with distaste.

"Ah, hey Papyrus," Sans greeted, waving a boney hand and ignoring his brother's other statement. "What's up?" Papyrus' frown deepened.

"I asked how did it go," he said softly. "The man you brought is very confused -though they always are- and he is asking for you." Sans laughed, a smile on his face.

"Yeah, I probably scared him to death."

"SANS!"

"I mean, I really should've known better. This could be a serious issue. Maybe he can see ghosts now."

"SANS, OH MY GODS!"

Sans snorted and shook his head. He liked making those bad jokes. It made his brother angry, but in a love-to-hate kind of way.

"Sorry Pap, I'll stop now."

"Thank you," the taller God sighed, exasperated. "Anyway, never mind the audience with the man. Tell me about today. I would really like to know." He sat on the cavern floor, elbows propped on his knees and his skull held by his hands. He smiled at Sans and Sans smiled back.

"Well, it was bright outside. It was beautiful, but I could feel that in a couple of hours it'd have a couple of showers of rain. Nothing big really. I was walking along Manhattan's skytowers and following Ethaniel."

"Who is Ethaniel?" Papyrus interrupted. "Is he our new friend?"

Sans nodded. "Yeah. And I know you don't like hearing my favorite part, so I'll skip that. It was a clean reaping bro. Nothing went wrong." He paused, turning his head slightly away from the other reaper. "Though... There was this one thing that happened. It was really weird..."

"Weird? What do you mean?" Papyrus asked, his sockets widening. Sans rubbed his face, suddenly tired.

"A kid was in the crowd," he muttered. "I think... I think she could see me."