Chapter One
I Hate Soul Reapers
Sweeping the floor of the shop, the girl announced the beat of her song with each stroke of the broom. A cello sang in her head, and music notes danced before her eyes. So she didn't hear the tell-tale tinkle of a small bell.
A small ahem penetrated her thoughts, and she jumped, looking up to the noise's source. A tall, red-headed woman was smiling down at her.
"Is Mr. Toshi in today?" she asked in a soft, kind tone. Despite the woman's gentle manner, the girl couldn't help but feel apprehensive as she looked into her pale eyes. She felt like she was being interrogated.
"Y-yes," she muttered, "He's behind the black curtain." She motioned behind her but didn't take her gaze off of the stranger. "Be sure to announce yourself before you enter."
"Arigato." The woman proceeded past the girl to the dark fabric hanging from an empty doorframe. She raised a hand and knocked on the wall.
"Who could possibly need me at this very moment?" shouted an extremely irritated voice from the other side.
"It's me, Kumo," she called with a tone that one uses to address an old friend.
"Oh my," came a significantly softer reply, "I didn't know . . . come in, come in!"
Before she stepped into the room, however, she looked back at the employee, who blushed and looked to the floor. She had been watching the woman instead of finishing her work.
"What's your name?"
The question caught her by surprise. No one had ever expressed interest in her, much less asked for her name.
"Haratake," she finally replied, "T-Tatsuya Haratake."
"Tatsuya, huh? It's a strong name. "
"It's masculine. A boy's name." Why the heck did she say that?
The stranger nodded. Then she asked something that completely took Tatsuya aback: "Do you mind if I visit your home when you get off work?"
Visit her home? She hadn't had a visitor in almost eight years! But what would her grandmother say? And why did a complete stranger want to visit her, anyway?
For the first time, Tatsuya noticed the woman's outfit. She wore the uniform of a soul reaper.
"Of course not," she answered nervously.
Satisfied, the soul reaper disappeared behind the curtain.
"That girl . . ." was the first thing that she said to her long-time friend.
"Tatsuya?" he asked, as if there was another girl worth mentioning at the moment.
She nodded her head. "When does she get off?"
"When she's done sweeping the floor. I take it you found interest in her?" Kumo Toshi recognized the look on the woman's face immediately. He had seen it once before a number of years ago. "She came to me about ten years ago wanting to learn music. I told her no and sent her on her way. She did this the same exact day of every year. I finally accepted her about three years ago. She works one shift in exchange for her lessons. Then she works an extra shift to put food on her family's table."
"Why doesn't her father do that?"
"Her father died about eight years ago. She lives with her mother and grandmother."
"Well, why don't they do something? She doesn't look any older than fourteen. She shouldn't have to bear that kind of responsibility!"
"Her mother, Chichiro, is gravely ill. Has been for going on five years now. And her grandmother, Yin, is a crazy old bat. All she does is fuss over Tatusya's mother and complain about Tatsuya. Anyway, she's fifteen."
"That's no excuse," she said under her breath. Then Kumo changed the subject.
The walk home was long and awkward. Silence filled almost the entire journey, save for a little small talk here and there.
"I never actually introduced myself, did I?" The woman said about halfway along. Tatsuya shook her head. "My name is Rangiku Matsumoto."
"Miss Matsumoto - " the girl started.
"Just call me Rangiku," she interrupted.
A small blush came over Tatsuya's cheeks. She was not used to calling anyone by their first name, and Matsumoto was her elder. It would be disrespectful to call her Rangiku! When she pointed this out, the soul reaper just laughed.
"Well, I'll be very offended if you don't use may first name," she said with a pout. To this, Tatsuya had no reply. And so they walked on.
"This is my house," Tatsuya said softly, stopping in front of a small, one-story house. Rangiku studied it with confusion. I expected much less, she thought. From what Kumo told me, I expected a run-down shack.
The thought didn't last long. As soon as the two entered the house, her impression changed completely. The front door led straight into the living room, which wasn't much of a room at all. The wooden floor was dusty and littered with everything from a fleece blanket to candy wrappers. The only furniture was a mattress in the far right corner and a small wooden table in the center. The ceiling looked like it was about to cave in, and the wallpaper was torn, some pieces hanging from the wall, others torn off completely. How can anyone live like this?
"Tatsuya!" Called a strict voice from the room that branched off on the left. It belonged to an older woman, and judging by the texture of the voice, she was at one time a heavy smoker. A short woman, bent over with age emerged from the door-less room. She had many wrinkles, but the most prominent of them all were her frown lines. Her dark brown eyes settled on Rangiku and widened slightly. "Tatsuya," she repeated, "You've brought a guest."
While Rangiku read the expression of pleasant surprise on the old woman's face, Tatsuya read the one that was hidden. It was an expression of anger and hatred, and she had to suppress a shudder.
The soul reaper bowed respectfully and said, "Thank you for welcoming me into your lovely home." Even though she was not welcomed by this woman, and her home was anything but lovely.
The woman, who Rangiku took to be Yin, simply nodded. "Tatsuya," she said softly, still transfixed on her guest, "Why don't you help me prepare the tea?"
Tatsuya gulped, but followed her grandmother into the kitchen. "Help me make tea," was a sort of code for, "let me yell at you." And it was never pleasant when Obaasan yelled.
"Tatsuya Haratake," Yin began, leaning lightly on a dilapidated counter, "Where do you get the bright idea to bring a soul reaper into this house?" Without waiting for an answer, she leaned right up to her granddaughter's face and hissed, "Do you not remember what soul reapers have done to this family?"
What family? the girl was tempted to ask, but she kept her mouth shut.
"That was not a rhetorical question," Yin growled.
Still, Tatsuya did not answer, but hung her head low instead. Yin brought her hand back, and Tatsuya tensed, waiting for the blow, but it didn't come. Confused, she looked up to see that Rangiku had come to her rescue, stopping Obaasan's hand just in time.
"That's enough," Rangiku said in a commanding tone that was much different from the one she had used around Tatsuya. "You have no right to beat this child for being a gracious host. You could learn a thing or two from Tatsuta about manners and ethics."
The girl was speechless. She had known the soul reaper for a little over an hour, and she was already defending her?
Yin's lips curled in what appeared to be a smile, but was really more of a snarl. "Who are you to question my methods?" she snapped, glaring daggers at Rangiku, who glared them right back. "I could learn from Tatsuya? The girl is a hopeless child who needs to be taught her place in the world." Rangiku opened her mouth to reply, but Yin pressed on. "What do you know about ethics, anyway? It's people like you who are ruining our lives. You're the reason this family has been torn apart!" The old woman was now only inches away from Rangiku, who still had a firm grip on her wrist. "I said I hated sol reapers," she hissed, "And that's what I meant. You are no longer welcome in this household."
"I wasn't welcome to begin with." With a final, sad look at Tatsuya, Rangiku left. There was nothing she could do to help the girl at the present time.
When the two women, young and old, heard the front door close quietly, Yin turned on her granddaughter. "You have not heard the last of this. Go to your room. There will be no supper for you tonight."
Tatsuya neither argued nor questioned.