Rudgar stood near the hanging body, trying not to notice the final twitches as the life was slowly dragged from the tiny form. Why did the kid have to choose hanging? It's not that taking one's own life was ever a pleasant matter, but there were more efficient, less painful methods. Slowly, he took a long drag from his cigarette as a distant clock rang out the hour. It was almost time. Soon, he would have his first apprentice.

Despite his years of dependable service, Rudgar had never acted a mentor before. No one saw him as particularly personable or friendly, nor had he made any effort to allow himself to be seen as anything else. He did his job quietly without any pomp or fanfare and rarely socialized. The only thing that set him apart at all was his smoking habit. It was technically impossible for Shinigami to be addicted as their bodies immediately eradicated poisons or foreign substances, but he felt incomplete without a warm cigarette between his lips or his fingers. Sucking in the last of the smoke into his body, he threw his cigarette to the ground and turned to see the young boy sitting below his still swinging body. Rudgar took a step towards the boy, who actually looked slightly younger than his fourteen years, as he prepared himself for the inevitable questions. While this might be his first time retrieving a newly reborn Shinigami, he had often heard the stories of the scared, confused individuals who were just trying to make sense of it all. He still had no idea what might drive someone this young to something so extreme, but the records of one chosen to be reborn weren't examined like typical reaps.

"I thought I'd be dead by now," Sascha said in a calm tone as he looked down at his hands. "I thought hanging would be a surefire method."

"It was a surefire method," Rudgar began, "You see..."

"Then I am dead!" Sascha's now green gold eyes grew with interest and he blinked a few times nearsightedly. He turned and regarded the body. "Is that me? I can't see very clearly now."

"That's because all Shinigami are nearsighted," explained Rudgar, "You'll have to be fitted for some glasses, but these will do in the meantime." He pulled out a pair of glasses and placed them on Sascha's face.

Sascha clasped his hands together as the glasses were put into place and his eyes sparkled brilliantly. He almost looked like a child regarding his presents on Christmas morning. "I'm a Shinigami!" It might have been meant as a question, but the joyous tone of voice made it more of an exclamation. "Are you a Shinigami too then?"

"Yes. My name is Rudgar."

"My name is Sascha, but I guess you already knew that." He laughed loudly as he looked around, "So where to next, Rudgar? Can we go anywhere now?" He continued to look around as if the world was suddenly opening up to him.

Rudgar looked on a little confused. Yet, despite this newly reborn Shinigami's odd behavior, he couldn't help but feel a little protective. Sascha was so innocent and unique, and there were those who would take advantage of that. Never before had he felt the need to look out for anyone. That was typically a luxury a Shinigami just didn't have, but he knew that Sascha needed him.

Perhaps, he even needed Sascha.