A/N: I noticed how in the manga, Undertaker's eyes looks so sad. So I decided to make a story of my guess about why that is. Sorry, I needed a real name for Undertaker, so I thought up a simple (and uncreative) name for him.
She's beautiful. From her curly gold hair to her fancy velvet dress. Down to every last detail.
"Sir, your dispatch team will be leaving soon," William T. Spears, my most trusted Board member perches on the roof next to me.
"Ah, yes," I turn to him.
"Sir, may I ask?"
"Go on," I reply, looking back at the young human woman, who was shopping at an outdoor market.
"What are you doing on your outings? You must know that you are needed back with the rest of the Board?" Will pushes his new glasses up with his fingers.
"I am just human-watching. You never know when I'm needed," I answer.
Will frowns, "You are needed back with the Board. Though I was just promoted, I do understand that our job is serious. We mustn't waste such break time with humans."
"We would not be needed if humans did not exist, am I wrong?" I look into his luminescent eyes that match my own.
Sighing, Will bows, "I shall not question your reasons again, Sir."
"Allow Mister Sutcliffe to lead the dispatch," I order.
"Pardon? We just recruited that reaper. Perhaps I-" Will says.
"No, Grell will do fine," I interrupt, "Did I not say it clearly?"
"Yessir," Will bows again, before leaving.
I look back at the to where the young woman was, but she disappeared in the time I had been speaking. Grabbing my scythe, I leapt from rooftop to rooftop on a route to the woman's home.
"Ma'am?" A man's voice, "May I ask you to come over here? I found a lost kitten, I thought a woman would be interested."
'Oh, looks like another human raping,' I think to myself.
"Oh, yes. I can't let an animal starve!" I hear Her voice. I follow them into an alley, where, surprisingly, there lay a starving stray kitten, on the brink of death.
"Can you take it in?" the man gestures to the poor ragged animal.
Crouching down, She strokes the cat's fur, "I can do my best."
Behind the young woman, I watch the man reach out to touch Her shoulder, "Woman can be so foolish these days," he growls, before pulling her closer and covering her mouth, "I will indeed have a good night."
I see the fear Her eyes. I watch, for I cannot reveal myself. But I also cannot simply watch from afar.
I sigh. I will be punished for this. Jumping down from the roof, I held onto my beloved scythe, keeping close to myself.
"It's not very polite to hold a woman in such a position, is it not?" I ask the man from the shadows, afraid of revealing my...humanly abnormal features (and not to mention clothing).
"Who's there?" the man whips out a hand gun and holds it to Her neck. She whimpers.
"That is such a puny weapon," I say. Oops. Bad idea. The man tightens his grip on the handle.
"Show yourself, or this woman gets it!" he shouts.
"Dear, so troublesome. If I let you get away with seeing me, that would be hazardous. And I cannot kill you, for that would be easy. Such a dilemma," I laugh, stepping forward into the sunlight, hiding my scythe.
"Who are you?" the man says again.
"Just some passerby. My, humans are so dimwitted these days," I laugh again, "Such weapons ruin the looks. When you kill, you must not shoot at the throat as you threaten to do so, you must make a small slit with a knife, so you can catch all the blood and clean up for a funeral," I add.
Shaking, the man points his small gun at me, "D-don't move!"
"Ah, that's easy," I say, "For I also won't breathe, if you wish me to do so."
"Stay quiet!" the man releases the woman, throwing Her on the ground.
"Leave!" She shouts, "He'll just kill you! Don't take your chances on someone like me! Save someone else! Like that cat!"
"Humans putting their life under that of a cat's. How amusing," I chuckle, "That cat will die anytime soon. Even the best vet would be unable to save it."
"S-stop talking!" I can see the man trembling.
"Sir, may I do anything to help?" I hear a voice from above. In a red blur, I see the person I least expected landing next to me.
"Mr. Sutcliffe, I believe you were to work with the dispatch," I say.
"I was thinking you'd miss me!" he runs to hug me.
Dodging, I sigh, "Let me rephrase: What happened to the dispatch you were supposed to lead?"
Grell stood up from crashing into the building wall. The man stood confused, and She stayed sitting to the side.
"Will sent me off," he pouts, for once getting serious (a little).
"I shall talk to him, then," I turn my head away from the red-haired reaper.
"Step away from me!" the man suddenly shouts, looking at something behind me.
Confused, I look behind me, but now I realize: my beloved scythe was clearly in my hand.
"Who are you?" the man repeats.
Holding my wonderful weapon close I say, "A passerby with a love for this."
"Sir-!" Grell shouts, but I can't stop. I won't stop. Swinging my beautiful blade back, I cleanly destroy this mans life.
Sighing, Grell flips open his book, "Jack Holly. Born January 17, died March 24 due to reaping."
I look at Her. She stares at the man's fallen body. I sigh again, but this time in relief.
"Who are you?" She says in wonder.
I look to where Grell stood, but he now has disappeared using his strange techniques.
"Please," I reach out my hand politely, "Call me..."
"Don't touch me!" She slaps my hand away.
Hurt, I stand back a good ten feet.
"Our first meeting, and yet you have already rejected me," I shake my head sadly, "And I thought I was saving you out of kindness."
She looks at me.
I turn away and walk to the poor cat.
"It'll be alright," I tell it. It mews pitifully. Drawing a small dagger that I use as an emergency death scythe, I check it's record. Animal reaping is not common, but it is done-someone has to do it-so I choose this cat here.
The cat blinks an eye open. Hissing, it lashes our at me, and the young human let's out a squeak when the cat's claws make contact with my skin.
"Sshh, you'll be fine. Just let me," I hold the cat down, "Finish this."
Cutting the record, the cat relaxes, and as it takes it's last breath, it looks at peace at last.
"You killed it!" She shrieked.
"Look at it," I say calmly, "It was starving for weeks. And on leg has been broken. It must have been extremely painful."
"So? Someone could've healed it!" The woman retorted.
"I did. I simply put it in a place that would be happier and painless for this kitten," I stroke the matted fur, "It would be better this way."
Her gaze softened, "Oh. I understand."
"Please," I turn my back, "Pardon me."
I start to jump to the roof, but something interrupts me.
"Wait!"
Surprised, I fall mid jump, hitting on rolling the roof hard.
"Excuse me, but that hurt!" I stand up to look down at Her.
"I'm sorry," She says quietly, "I just wanted to say thank you."
My eyes widen in surprise, but then I smile, "You're very welcome, Miss?"
"Jamie Howard," She finally smiles gratefully, "Please call me Jamie."
I laugh, jumping back down from the roof and landing easily, "Quite a name for a lady."
Jamie blushed, "My parents were hoping for a boy."
"And they threw you out!"
"I ran away when they had another."
I laugh again, "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Miss Howard, though our first time in sight was quite interesting."
Jamie stood up, gathering her matted dress, "And you too, Mister?"
I shake my head, "I will remain unknown."
"Oh," Jamie looked sad, "Okay. I should take my leave," she turned away down the alley.
I reach out my hand politely, suddenly appearing next to her, "Shall I escort you home?" I tuck my beloved scythe in it's rightful place in my robes.
"I can't trouble you anymore."
"You never troubled me. Though when I get back to where I belong, I believe someone will be giving me some crap," I laugh, "Do you accept?"
Jamie laughed too, "Yes. And now you're speaking rudely in front of a lady."
I smile, putting my hand out, "Shall we go?"
"My house is-" she opens her mouth.
"I know where it is," I reply, which makes her face turn to confusion. Taking her hand in mine, I bow down to politely kiss the top of it.
She blushes. Standing back up, I smile as kindly as I can, then to guide her out of the alleyway.
