Mew: I've been working on this new story, and I liked the plot, so I decided to post it. It's definitely going to be a short one, everyone. As for updates, they'll be (more or less) every Friday. I have the plot laid out, and all I have to do is write it. Will this affect postings of Badass Boyfriend? No; I'm pretty confident that I can do 'em both at the same time. –grin-

Draiku: Mew's challenging herself by doing scheduled updates for two stories at once, in case you didn't know that already.

Mew: Yup! And I'm quite happy with this so far. Anyway, leave a review at the end so I can decide if I should continue it or not. Again, like Badass Boyfriend, that'll be determined by the number of reviews I get. –evil cackle-

Disclaimer: Mew Draiku doesn't own anything mentioned in this fic. She's too poor, and doesn't even have a job.

Scythe

Chapter 1

Death walked through an old English town, sighing rather tiredly. He drummed his bony fingers against the blade of his scythe, narrowing his eye sockets. The dark angel looked around, and finally came across the man he was supposed to reap. A druggie, probably twenty or thirty, snorting crack, with dark bags underneath his eyes.

Death walked over, putting the scythe on his shoulder, and stood in front of the man. The druggie was so high his weary eyes could actually see the black angel, and he let out a short cry. Death immediately slew him, and the man slumped as his soul left his body.

The skeleton looked up at the sky and sighed once again.

"I need a break," he muttered.

-

Meanwhile, in Japan, Malik Ishtar was peacefully asleep. It was late at night, and everyone was resting. He sighed into the soft pillow, hugging it like a stuffed animal. A large smile played across his face as he dreamt about his future.

He'd studied art in college for years, only to remain poor and broke all the time. But now he'd made it big with a piece he'd been selling at an artist's convention. Someone had offered him a job. All he had to do was make an advertisement that would grab peoples' attention, like a car crash.

He almost laughed in his sleep.

-

Death chose a random household to appear in. He created a portal, and stepped through it. Instantly, he was in a man's room. He stepped over, his bony feet scratching against the wood, and stood above his victim.

The man was rather young, probably about twenty or so. He had tanned skin and blond hair, oddly enough, yet it looked pleasing at the same time. Death couldn't see, but the male also had violet eyes, a strikingly rare color nowadays.

He lifted his scythe, and that was when the boy awoke. He looked around, and saw Death, standing above him, scythe raised.

-

Malik let out a cry of horror. The black angel had come here, to his room, the night before he signed the job contract! It couldn't be happening! It just couldn't!

"Here," the skeleton said, offering him the scythe. Malik gasped, staring at him, eyes wide. Sweat trickled down his face like bullets and his heart thumped against his chest as if it wanted out.

Malik didn't move. He was paralyzed. In return, Death sighed with annoyance. He snapped his fingers, and Malik instantly fell to the bed, eyes closed. However, he wasn't dead. Only asleep. Death placed the scythe next to his head, and was gone with only one thought on his mind.

Ah…Retirement is bliss.

-

Malik awoke the next morning. He groaned, rubbing his head, and sat up. He'd had the most peculiar dream about Death, trying to give him his scythe. It was creepy, yes, but unbelievable.

The man crawled out of bed lazily, sighing. Then he remembered—the contract! He was to sign it today!

Instantly, he was awake. He dressed quickly, yet neatly, and grabbed his car keys and whatever else he felt he needed. He ran outside excitedly, and jumped into his car. He hurriedly drove to his new employer's office and parked, then ran inside eagerly.

He skidded to a stop in front of the lady at the reception desk. She looked at him with wide eyes, and sat back in her seat as if she wanted to get away from him.

"Ma'am, Mr. Newman offered me a job, and I'm here to sign the contract. What room is his?" he asked. She stared at him even longer. "Um, ma'am?" Malik said, confused.

"If you don't get out right this moment, I'll call security," she whispered. Malik blinked, truly confused, and she stood. "Get out!" she yelled. Malik gasped, and hurried outside as she screamed at him. He got into his car, feeling more confused than ever, and placed his forehead against the wheel, groaning.

However, the groaning stopped when he suddenly had this incredible urge to eat apples. He knew that Ryou, his friend from college, owned several apple trees in his backyard, so he drove there. Besides, he' hadn't seen him in a while. A visit couldn't hurt, now could it?

He pulled into Ryou's driveway and walked up to his door. Malik rang the doorbell, and it was answered a moment later by Ryou.

"Hi, Ryou! I was in the neighborhood, so I decided to stop by. I hope this isn't a bad time," he said, scratching the back of his head. Ryou stared at him a long while.

"Oh—it's not a bad time at all," he said. "Come in." He stepped aside and allowed Malik entrance.

"Thank you, Ryou," he said.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?" Ryou offered, being the polite man he was.

"If it isn't too much trouble—do you still have those apple trees?" Malik asked a bit shyly.

"I thought that you hated apples," Ryou said, raising an eyebrow. Malik blinked, and shook his head.

"No, no—I've taken quite a liking to them in the last few years," he replied.

"Yes, it has been a while," Ryou said, going to his fridge. He took out an apple and tossed it at Malik with a "catch." Malik snatched it out of the air and bit down. He paused a moment, chewing the fruit, and sighed as if in bliss.

"Oh—that's good," he whispered, and kept eating.

"You've…changed since we last talked, have you?" Ryou asked, looking at Malik.

"I guess you could say that," he said through bites.

"What's with the sudden craving for apples?" the other boy questioned. Malik shrugged.

"I have no idea," he replied as he finished the apple. "Could I have another?" Ryou nodded and tossed him another red fruit, and Malik happily bit into it. "Actually—these were probably the reason I came here. Since you have such big, red, ripe, luscious, juicy—."

"I get it," Ryou replied, sitting down.

"But, I was also hoping that, since you majored in psychology and dreams and whatnot, you could help me out," Malik added. Ryou blinked and nodded. Malik sat across from him, finishing his apple.

"Well, what happened?" he asked.

"I had a dream that Death came to me and offered me his scythe. I screamed, of course, but he wouldn't leave. He just held out his scythe to me," Malik said. Ryou stared at him, eyes wide.

"I read a book about this," he whispered. "Grim Reapers love apples, right? How many apples did you eat a week ago?" Malik blinked.

"None," he replied. "You don't possibly think that…" Ryou pointed to the object Malik was clutching in one hand.

"How do you explain that?" he asked. Malik blinked, and looked up.

His right hand was gripping an abnormally large scythe, decorated with pictograms and codes. He let out a cry and dropped it, then looked at Ryou.

"I never noticed it! Honestly! I don't know how, but I—oh, dear lord, something's wrong with me. Something's very, very wrong," he said. "I can't be Death. I just can't be! I'm not! I'm not!" He sobbed and fell to his knees in front of Ryou. "Please, Ryou, please help me get back to normal," he begged.

"I'll help you, Malik, I promise," Ryou replied, smiling kindly. "Just don't kill me." He helped Malik up, and the boy sighed.

"Gods, I can't believe this," Malik uttered, sitting down once again. He stared at the scythe and looked away from it.

"Don't worry, we'll find a way to get things back to normal. Alright?" Ryou said. Malik nodded, and suddenly the doorbell rang. Ryou got up. "I'll get that. Just a moment," he said. He opened the door. "Mom? What are you doing here?" Malik heard him say.

"Ryou, please, can you take care of your brother while I'm gone? My boss needs me at this meeting, but it's in the US! Could you?" a woman said.

"S-sure, I will," Ryou replied.

"Thank you so, so much, Ryou," his mother said, hugging him. She promptly left, driving away. Malik peered out the door and saw a boy with long, white hair standing in the doorway, holding two large suitcases. Around his wrists were thick bandages, indicating that he'd attempted suicide before. He wore jeans and a black shirt, and had almost no expression.

"Come in, Bakura," Ryou said, taking the suitcases from him. "Have a seat. Malik, my friend, is here, by the way. Don't worry about his scythe, he's in acting and I was helping him rehearse." Malik smiled at Bakura.

"Nice to meet you," he said, standing and holding out a hand. Bakura ignored him and sat down roughly. He rested his elbow on the armrest and placed his chin in his hand. Malik blinked, feeling rather annoyed at the man's actions.

"He won't talk to you," Ryou said. "He's very antisocial. He hasn't said anything for a while now." Malik shot a slight glare at Bakura, who didn't care.

"How long has he been like this?" he asked.

"Since eighth grade," Ryou replied. Malik's eyes widened.

"He hasn't spoken a word since then?" he asked, disbelieving. Ryou nodded.

"Yeah," he replied. Malik cleared his throat.

"So, um, why haven't I met him before? I was over at your house plenty of times during elementary, middle, and high school, but I don't remember seeing him once," he asked.

"He was in an insane asylum for a few years," Ryou replied. "Before eighth grade he talked a lot. But it was always about death and Satan and all sorts of things like that, in great detail. He was put into the asylum one day for bringing it up in class for the umpteenth time. Then he was kept there because he wouldn't talk to anyone. About a month ago he attempted suicide, and they had to take him to the hospital. Mom ordered for him to stay out of that place, so she's been taking care of him ever since. Problem is, he can't be left alone. At all. Not even for a second."

"I…I see," Malik muttered. Ryou sighed sadly. He walked to Bakura and sat next to him, tapping his shoulder. Bakura looked at him, the light of the room shining off his eyes.

"Are you hungry or something?" he asked gently. Bakura shook his head once and put his chin back on his hand. "Okay. If you do get hungry, I can make something for you, and there's always the fridge." Bakura sighed, and, in turn, Malik and Ryou did as well.

TBC

Mew: Well? Do you want me to continue this, or not? I gladly will, since I, personally, love it so far. Anyway, let me know in a review.

Draiku: Yes, let her know. As mentioned before, this'll be determined if she gets X number of reviews with in X number of days.

Mew: Someone's been paying attention in Geometry!

Draiku: …shut up.

Yoko: Thanks for reading, everyone! Anyway, remember to R&R, please! Mew would love to hear your thoughts!