BB says: And the story continues. Or rather, begins. Whatever. DO NOT QUESTION ME!

"'If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain:

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.'

She smiled and closed the book, holding it gently in both hands. The sun was setting, shades of violet and rose dancing over the horizon as the yawning star made its decent. People were winding down, rushing home to awaiting families, their footsteps and voices drifting on the other side of the shop's windows.

A dry breeze spun through the door on its journey to far lands. It danced through the shelves and flickered through books left open by patrons. The smell of old paper and ink was absorbed and brought along. The busy wind, a visitor in its own right, bustled past the young woman and raised the soft curls on her head just before it left.

'Emily Dickinson,' quirked lips murmured the name of her favorite poet like a prayer, the book of the poetry still in her slackened hand. 'Always a good way to end the day.' Of course she said this about many poets and authors. She ran through works of the written arts eagerly and hungrily, every week a new novel or new author was brought to her attention. In all her young life she had read nearly every book in the little establishment, her eyesight suffering from reading in dull lightening and antisocial tendencies leading to many nights spent only in the company of literature.

But she didn't mind.

It wasn't as though she had many friends anyway.

'Are you buying today, Sigh?' the shop keeper, a man with more lines in his face than a map, smiled at the customer, who shifted shyly. 'Sorry Mr. Jenkins. I wasn't even supposed to come today. You just distract me with all these books.' She walked over to the aged counter to reclaim her bags. 'Do you think you can hold it for me? Madam will be upset if I'm late.' Under normal conditions the answer would be no. Sigh could see that the old man was struggling with his response, his own policy battling with his fondness of the fellow bookworm. 'Oh,' he said after several seconds of the struggle 'alright. But only for a week.' Sigh smile gratefully, adjusting her round glasses over her fog colored eyes. 'Thanks Mr. Jenkins. And thanks for holding my groceries.'

'No problem. Say hi to Éclair for me.' The young woman bustled out into the streets once more, nearly plowing into a neat little family. She nodded, apologized, and continued to run. Dust rose and fell in her wake, streetlights blinking on like the bulbs on a runway as she passed beneath.

She made it back into the city just as the sun completely left the sky, taking the last of its bronze rays. It took her another thirty minutes, riding the bus, to make it to a dim alley. She slipped into the back door of the burlesque house known as Forbidden Fantasy.

They may have been looking for her for a while; she was supposed to have been back an hour ago. No one in the small, modern kitchen seemed to mind her tardiness as she slipped in the door, but many of the girls who worked in the show had come to rely on their soothing peer who lived in the attic. She had come to be responsible for their maintenance; sewing costumes, applying makeup, providing advice. The fact that she was often late getting back from the market always caused a silent panic amongst the workers.

She threw the bags at the chef, Leroy, and ran from the kitchens, hoping that no one had spontaneously combusted in the wake of her absence. She had to jog down the aisle and past early arrivals on her way to the green room, smiling sheepishly as customers shot her curious looks. She hopped up the stairs hidden to the side of the stage, taking a deep breath before opening the small door at the top and slipping in.

"There she is!"

"Sigh! Did you finished my adjustments?"

"Are you going to bring us some snacks?"

"Can you re-polish my shoes? I accidentally scuffed-"

"And the sequins on my vest are peeling up!" Sigh held up a hand helplessly, overwhelmed as she looped the measuring tape around her neck. "Hold on, hold on! Tulip, I can't do the vest in the next twenty minutes so just wear the green one. It's in my room. Lily, I'll have your shoes done before you have to go on, so make sure you leave them out for me. I installed buttons for self adjustments last time, Rose. Look at the seam. Anyone who still needs to be measured and fitted for the newer outfits come here."

The greenroom was buzzing with over a dozen young women. They all wore an abundance of glitter and make up, their shapely bodies clothed in fishnet tights and the black leotards they wore beneath every costume. Asian, Caucasian, African American, Native American, all mingled together, a mist of expensive perfumes and hair sprays lingering in the air. Mirrors lined one of the walls, rimmed with large bright bulbs and draped in various forms of costume jewelry.

"Sigh! I need help with this new eye shadow! I don't know what colors to use for my costume." The makeshift stagehand nodded, adjusted her glasses out of habit, and made her way to the performer that had spoken. This girl was newest addition to the Sweetest Girls dancers, the Forbidden Fantasy's staple production.

Sigh herself was not a performer. While she did live in the building and work within its confines, it was a rare and treasured moment that she stepped onto the stage in front of all those people who came for the cheap booze and gorgeous girls. Most nights found Sigh here, in the background, making sure everything was set so the show could go on.

It wasn't that the young woman wasn't pretty enough to be onstage. On the contrary, most who saw her were immediately smitten, blatantly staring at the embarrassed and somewhat annoyed girl. It was like there was a natural magnet in her body, drawing people's support and favor without them even getting to know her.

Psyche LaBelle Éclair was as lovely as her namesake, matured curves beneath her loose clothing, thick, curly hair the color of lilacs and wide silver eyes sparkling with intelligence. Her skin was the color of smooth milk chocolate and the details on her peach shaped face all seemed perfectly sized and spaced. From the tips of her painted toes (blue, this day) to the edges of her long bulky braids the girl was much too pretty for her own good. The spell was only broken by exposure; everyone eventually grew used to the beautiful girl.

'You have to go from the corner to the outside. And make sure the darker color is the closest to your lashes; it'll make your eyes pop. Let's see how the burnt orange looks.' This place of questionable morals was home to Sigh. The older woman who owned the building, one Madam Éclair, had taken her in when she was very young, a starving little girl wandering the streets. Why the cool woman had suddenly felt her heart strings tighten, why this single urchin had meant so much, remained unknown.

Maybe, after forty years of a bitter life founded in gambling and cheats she needed more than her own nasty attitude to complete herself.

Maybe, the death of her husband and son had finally reminded her how she needed to sincerely love again.

Or maybe the girl's strangely irresistible aura was in effect even in early childhood. It really didn't matter to Sigh; she was grateful for whatever reason the woman had picked her up and given her a warm bed.

'Places! You guys go on soon. I'll be in the kitchens if you need me. I'll bring up finger sandwiches for you, Hyacinth, and anyone else who's hungry.'

Those who heard grumbled in confirmation of hunger while others worked their bodies into costumes. Some wore the bright, showy outfits for performances, others pulled on the waiting uniforms that showed just as much skin in cheaper materials.

Sigh left the greenroom, sliding along the shadows to try and remain unnoticed by the quickly filling house.

'Sigh,' Leroy had succeeded in putting away all the groceries and was now chopping lettuce on a large wooden block. Kitchen hands bustled about behind him, washing dishes, pouring drinks, and getting appetizers ready. Sigh was all set to join them, knowing that the sooner the customers were served the sooner she could get some food to the girls back stage. Many of them didn't eat before coming to work and were starved halfway through the night.

'Yeah, Roy?' Sigh pulled on an apron, smiling politely at a new worker who was gawking at her. The poor boy dropped a pot on his foot; thankfully, it was empty. 'I can't find the cilantro, the ketchup, or the onions. You forget a bag again?' The chef narrowed his hard brown eyes at his boss' daughter. He made it clear from the start that he didn't believe in special treatment for those who helped in his kitchen. Sigh was constantly made aware of this fact, sent out for the food to feed the workers when a food truck came every Friday to stock the kitchen. The chef's excuse was that it was against the kitchen code to eat food bought for customers.

'Damn it. I must have,' Sigh glanced away from the anger building in Leroy's eyes, twiddling her thumbs. 'Any chance you don't need it now? I mean, we're all working right now, so there's really no time to eat anyway.' A thick red brow raised in a worn looking face, his cleaver sized hands never stopping.

'Go get it.' Sigh gazed up at the man, wondering if this was one of the rare occasions he let her slip by.

It wasn't.

'Fine.' And she ran out the door again, floral gored skirt brushing her legs.

Another thirty minutes on a bus heading the opposite direction, tourists chattering incessantly about dreams and bets they planned to win big from. This was the second to last bus; she would be lucky to catch one going back into the city. Sigh pulled the string and stepped off the bus, resentfully.

It was the old man's fault, she thought with bitter humor, ducking down narrowed alleys and around dodgy people. Opening a store so close Leroy's favorite suburban grocery. How is she supposed to resisted the allure of books so close to her errands? It just wasn't possible! It just wasn't fair!

She huffed and nearly tripped on her oversized apron as she turned into another dirty street. Scowling, she pulled it off her head and rolled it up.

Rats parted at her approaching feet and the hiss of an alley cat sounded somewhere in the darkness. The moon's bloody smile provided little light, and the shadows seemed to twist in her peripheral vision. Sigh had confidence in herself; this was not the first time she had to make trips at night and it most certainly would not be the last. By now the shapes had failed to scare her, her imagination remaining in check despite the noise and movements that she couldn't quite place.

She didn't even jump as a trashcan was knocked over, rolling noisily to a stop behind her. She shot it a glance, the cat responsible glaring back at her with wide eyes before ducking out of sight.

'Hey! Did I leave a bag?' She caught the old book seller as he locked up for the night, his weather beaten jacket on his thin frame. 'I was going to bring it to you this time, Sigh. I know how you forget.' She smiled sweetly, pulling the bag from his gnarled knuckles. 'You shouldn't have to, Mr. Jenkins. You know your knee bothers you this late.' The old man chuckled sheepishly. 'I know, I know. I just didn't want for you to make the trip after dark. Pretty girls like you are magnets for all sorts of trouble.' Sigh giggled nervously at the compliment. Flattery made her uneasy. 'I can take care of myself. I want you to do the same, okay? Don't worry about an insensible person like me.'

'If you insist. But make sure you hurry home. I don't like you out late.' They parted ways, and the air rushed out of Sigh's lungs as she checked her watch. She had missed her bus. She would have to walk.

Leroy had serious attitude problems. He could wait the extra few minutes it took her to get back; her legs were tired from running everywhere. Admittedly, it was her own fault that she needed to rush, but that didn't take from the fact that it was an exhausting method of travel, even for someone with stamina like hers. Mr. Jenkins' shop was near the edge of the city, teetering between urban and suburban, while Forbidden Fantasy was seated barely a decameter from the epicenter of the skyscrapers.

In addition to the fact that a book shop was possibly the hardest thing to find in a place where bright lights and noise were worshiped as wrathful gods, Sigh was hard pressed to search for decent places for her personal entertainment. She felt like she worked hard and, therefore, deserved to treat herself once in awhile. It wasn't like Leroy ever told her to take a break! She was so unappreciated. She mumbled complaints to herself, picking up the pace a bit but only because she could feel the first pangs of hunger.

Her body stiffened suddenly, inexplicably. For some reason the air felt heavier, thick in a way that she wasn't used to. It crackled around her, energy flowing in waves around her prone body as her senses tried to warn her of encroaching…she shook her head. Visions like this could get her in trouble. She stifled the fuzzy warmth flooding into her system, refusing the magic that bubbled so close to the surface of who she was.

Not a witch.

Not a witch.

She. Was. Not. A witch.

But still.

Cautious eyes scanned the area, taking in the fact that she had wandered down a darkened street, still on the outskirts of the large city, her own unsteady breathing the only sound. "Hello?" Despite the intense silence, Sigh still felt eyes upon her, crawling up her body, invisible fingers brushing the back of her neck. Unnerved, she picked up the pace, just short of a run. The feeling only increased. Her own speed seemed to be taking her further into danger, but at the same time she knew stopping would be worse. Much worse.

The mouth of the alley led to bright lights, the first of the main attractions and a plethora of possible witnesses. But the shadows contacted, twisting on themselves in the same way she had been ignoring all night, parting to reveal an abused looking man…thing.

It didn't even look human anymore.

A towering figure who stood at almost seven feet, large hands the size of dinner plates and a bulging upper body. He wore faded jeans with tired looking leather chaps, his boots loosing their soles and the spurs coated in what looked suspiciously like old blood. His mouth was much too wide to be normal, piling upon itself it what looked more like a snout than anything else, and the skin of his face and hands was rough and scaly looking.

Like an alligator.

'Hey thar little lady,' his voice was a low growl, crawling over Sigh's flesh like a disease. She took an involuntary step backwards. 'Ya'll know better than ta be wanderin' all by yerself, don't cha?' Sigh didn't respond. And she suspected he wasn't expecting her to. She backed up further, wanting to flee but unwilling to turn her back on this monster. 'Ya could get attacked,' the lizard man licked his rough lips, nostrils flaring as he smelled her unease. 'Someone might,' his body coiled, Sigh's legs screamed at her to run. 'Eat'cher soul!'

Sigh wasn't a screamer. Never had been, and more than likely never would be. But in that instant, when a three hundred pound razor-toothed monster leapt at her, she came as close as she ever had to letting loose.

But she acted instead.

She bounded out of his range, caused him to land, open mouthed, in the dust. 'Come on now darlin',' he ground sand between his teeth, still grinning. 'Don't make it hard. Such a pretty lil' soul. I jus' wanna bite.' He lunged forward a second time, seeking out the girl's frantic heart in the darkness of the alley.

Sigh brought her foot up, catching him under the jaw, hearing his teeth smash and crack against each other. While he was still stunned, she brought her other foot around to slam him into the ground once again. 'Stay away from me,' she hissed, stacking adrenaline to suffocate her own fear. An eerie chuckle arose from the ground. 'That type, eh? I gotta buy ya a drink first?' Sigh jumped back as he stood, opening his jacket to reveal a large wrinkled lizard wrapped about his waist.

No; Sigh adjusted her glasses.

Alligator.

It looked horribly dehydrated, outside of its usual environment, its slick brown flesh cracked and dry looking. The skin on its snout was flaking up, and its teeth were yellowed in its powerful jaws. It looked weakened, pathetic. Sigh would've been relieved his secret weapon was harmless had a pair of chillingly emotionless eyes not trained on her.

'How 'bout I make ya drink yer own blood then?' The alligator unbound itself, moving faster than Sigh had ever known the amphibious beasts to. It snapped its jaws hungrily, and Sigh fled from its powerful tail and mouth. This provided an opening for the wickedly grinning man, seizing the much smaller young woman from behind and slamming her into a brick building behind them. Her glasses went flying, plunging her into a terrifyingly blurry reality. 'Gotcha,' his breath smelled of rotten meat, black and yellow teeth inches from her skull as a large hand pressed into her windpipe. 'Got any last words, darlin?'

Sigh could barely breathe, her heart pounding as the fight or flight instinct attempted to save her life. He laughed as she struggled to pull his fingers from her throat, squeezing just enough to make the world spin. She tried to kick, but her legs were pinned by his.

'Last words?' Sigh wheezed. She really didn't want to do this. She wasn't supposed to; it was a breach of her moral code. But she would sacrifice her morals just this once if it meant saving her life. 'Okay,' she whispered, looking him in the eyes and burrowing deep into his aura.

It was disgusting, sticky almost, a hint of rot permeating the air. 'Let me down. Now.' The man's eyes widened and glazed over, a wrinkle of confusion appearing on his brow. Sigh reached out, tugging at his aura with her own. He growled like he could sense something was amiss, but he was already in the sway of her magic. 'Put me down. You don't want to hurt me; you want to let me go.' He frowned and his hand loosened slightly, his wavering aura being forced to submit by her brighter, more powerful being. 'I do?'

'Yes. You can feel how alive I am, how vibrant. Why would you take that away? Why would you hurt me?'

'Why would I…take away…' his words became slurred, hand almost completely removed. Good. And once he let her go, she would tell him to go turn himself into the police.

'Joe Ball,' a voice, deep and powerful, rang through the air.

A hail of bright bullets rained from the sky, doing away with the large gator still lurking in the shadows. 'You!' the meaty hand at Sigh's throat tightened once again, leaving her to claw at it desperately. So much for convincing him to let her go.

The man had snapped back to his senses, looking from Sigh to a shadow high on a rooftop. It was tall, intimidating, made all the more threatening by its coolly professional demeanor.

The shadow leapt into the alley, startling Joe and causing the giant to choke Sigh further. Hearing the strangled yelp his victim made, Joe yanked the gasping young woman from the wall and hefted her into the air to hang between himself and his enemy. 'Ya don't know when to quit, do ya?' he asked the new arrival. The edges of Sigh's vision were starting to blur, her back to her wannabe hero. It was such an embarrassment, felt only in the barest recesses of her mind, to be downgraded from chow to human shield.

'Chasin' me 'cross two states. Ya woulda made a fine sheriff, pretty boy.'

'Drop her.' The man in the shadows commanded, ignoring Joe's attempt at small talk. The sliding of chapped lips across slick teeth told Sigh the disgusting alligator man was smiling. 'Oh~ho? Think ya got ole Joe in a pinch, do ya? Tell ya what I'm gonna do,' he swung Sigh by her neck like a pendulum, another choked noise escaping. 'I'll let her live…fer now. But ya gotta back the fuck off. Let me off wit a warnin',' his grin widened 'sheriff.'

'No deal,' there was scorn in the response.

'Aw naw. That's awful cold of ya.' Sigh agreed with what was left of her quickly fogging mind.

'I don't negotiate with murderers.'

'Or,' there was laughter in Joe's voice 'ya think ya can take my head 'fore I take hers?' That's enough. Sigh was getting tired of them talking about her like she wasn't there. Like she was some piece of meat in a store window they both wanted.

With a heave she didn't know she still had in her, she jerked her knee up, striking the back of the arm she swung from. There was a sickening snap, Joe howling in pain and dropping her as his broken elbow swung loosely. His opponent wasted no time.

Sigh threw herself to the filthy ground, the fall of bullets coming with the speed and power of a turret gun. She grit her teeth and stayed low, hoping against hope the man had good aim and that Joe would have the decency to fall backwards and not on top of her. It would be the perfect end to a perfect night, a heavy monster man crushing her just as she thought she found salvation.

All at once, it was silent. Sigh's breathing was the only thing she could hear, leaving her to wonder if she was shell shocked.

'Liz, Patty.' The man with the guns spoke again, his tone considerably lighter but still full of authority. Sigh wasn't sure who he was talking to, but in case he was another mental patient who ate people for laughs she wanted out of this alley. And fast. 'Ummm thanks,' the young woman mumbled from the ground, crawling to look for her glasses. She forced her voice to be casual, trying to keep the shaking from her hands as she scrambled. She refused to look higher than the fuzzy stalks that must've been the man's legs, avoiding eye contact out of the fear it would encourage him to pick up where Joe had left off.

More than one pair of feet approached, leaving the struggling young woman all the more confused.

'Ugh. I almost don't wanna touch it. I can still smell him.'

'Ohhhh! He stinks! Stinky! Can I have this one sis? Huh?'

'No. That would give you two more than Liz, Patti.' Now that Sigh was no longer in peril, her savior appeared to have completely forgotten she was there, turning his attention to the spontaneously appearing girls instead of her. Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise she thought, wincing as she touched something that was very much a trash bag.

'Fuck,' she mumbled nastily, hand running into an empty can and gaining a jagged scratch. She would've stuck it in her mouth, but considering where her hands had been, thought better of it. Forget them. She'd rather not have other people's fingers sticking up her glasses even if they did offer to help find them.

What must've been a hand appeared in front of Sigh's face. 'Are you all right?' Sigh twitched, bitter thoughts surging and waning. How dare he come now? After leaving her to wallow on the slimy, mucky floor?

'Fine.' She ignored his gesture, remaining where she was to continue to search.

'That's good to hear.' Fingers traced her neck, causing her to jump. They were cool, but not freezing. 'You'll have bruises, but other than that, you'll be fine. I don't think he broke anything.' Sigh pushed his hand away. 'I'm fine, thanks. No need to stay and watch me.' But he didn't leave the alley. The hand appeared again, something clenched in his fingers. Reaching forward, Sigh accepted her glasses so briskly it was almost rude, standing up as straight as she could despite the situation. 'Yes. Well…thanks for sav-' she startled once the glasses were on her nose, eyes wide as she backed away.

He stood a head taller than her, with the yellowest pupils she had ever seen in her life. His skin was the color of ivory, contrasting with hair so dark no light escaped, even to reflect. There were two white stripes on the side of his head, the center stripe wrapping around to form a ring over his eyes. He looked down at her from behind his regal nose and possessed a certain pride about his face, concealed arrogance mingling with his air of well-breeding. In one of his hands was her forgotten bag of groceries, on his face a raised eyebrow and a look of apathetic confusion. But his aura, the air surrounding him, was so powerful, so dark, it seemed to devour everything around it, latching on and recording what it touched. A part of Sigh wanted to shrink back, gaining the sudden and illogical fear that he could absorb her, trapping her for eternity within his darkness. She knew what he was immediatly.

'Reaper.' He didn't hear her, but the whisper made him seem all the more real.

Sigh backed right into one of the women he had brought with him. She jumped and gave a small outcry of surprise. They were his scythes, she realized, mentally scolding herself for not knowing sooner.

'Hey,' said the one with the darker hair, the lighter blonde giggling at Sigh's jitters. 'Calm down. You're safe now. It's alright.' Safe? Ha! It was so inappropriately used in that sentence it was laughable. If only they understood the danger they had put her in, the risk she was taking just being in the vicinity of this powerful being and his partners. Even now, as she shuttered and looked for an exit, those much too interpretive eyes of Mayan gold were reading her movements. She forced a smile to her face, attempting to avoid more suspicion.

'Y-yeah. Thanks guys. Bye!' Sigh tried to bolt, but was stopped by a powerful hand wrapping around her wrist, a ring digging into her skin. 'Actually,' those strange eyes seemed to be glowing in the dark 'if you could come with us for some questioning-' Sigh brought her hand up and into the young man's face, slamming her palm into his nose and pushing him back. Before the startled trio could gather what she has done, she had fled.

'What was that about?' the young woman with the dirty blonde hair moved to help her meister stand, her giggling sister still amused by the strange girl's behavior. 'Geez Kid. I think you're gonna have a black eye later.'

'Did you see where she went?' The tall young man with the onyx hair held a handkerchief to his nose, trying to ease the blood that was trickling out. There was irritation in his voice, whether at the girl for striking him or at himself for not dodging was hard to say. Tears of pain were gathering in his eyes and his voice had a slight nasal quality.

'No. She was obviously spooked, Kid-'

'Did you see how hard she hit him? She was like BAM!'

'-so I don't see why you have to go after her. Just let her go home and rest,' Liz continued, ignoring her sister.

'No Liz. I think it's best we know where she ran off to. We should keep track of her activities. Watch her.'

'Why are you so determined to stalk this girl? Unless…' The elder demon pistol allowed a look of mischief to appear on her face, a grin forming. 'Unless…did little Kiddy Widdy finally fall in wuuuuvvvv?' Kid felt his face twitch, a tick he had developed after bringing the two demon pistols into his home. He sincerely hoped it wasn't a sign of how his blood pressure suffered. 'No. Nothing that childish.'

'Hey! It's not-'

'She wasn't human, Liz.' Liz forgot her rant about how completely normal it was to fall in love at first sight and how Kid had totally failed to do so (outside of things with symmetrical attributes). Even the bubbly blonde in the background stopped laughing to listen to what the young meister had to say. 'I thought I felt something off when we first entered the city, but I wasn't sure. I shrugged it off. But now I'm sure of it. She isn't normal.'

'Doesn't that mean you can track her? Can't you see her soul?' Kid shook his head, eyes focused in the distance. 'It's like she using soul protect. But I can see what she is close up…it's something else.' Liz huffed through her nose. 'Well don't expect me to comb an entire city for one strange girl. It's like looking for a needle in a haystack. We could search for years and never see her again.' Kid didn't respond, much to his partner's vexation, his eyes still moving over the souls he could see. All the ones in the area seemed to be human. But, then again, that young woman's soul hadn't stood out at all when he first arrived. It wasn't until he was close enough to look at her, feel a sudden spike in the air, that he felt her magic abilities.

The rustling of plastic brought him back to attention. 'Patty! Don't dig through other people's property! That's rude!' Patty laughed a bit at her meister's outburst, pointing a nude nail in his face. 'Hey Kiddo. You're only bleeding out of one nostril!' his face gave another twitch as he barely managed to stop himself from exploding.

'W-what? N-no. I don't care. Nope. Not in the least. I really don't,' but he pressed his handkerchief to his face again, cursing at his body for not being injured in an orderly fashion while a cloud of depression sat upon his shoulders. He didn't notice Patty continue to rifle through the girl's abandoned things, but Liz watched her sister pull out an old book. It had no pictures on the cover, so the younger pistol opened it to the first page.

To my best customer, Psyche Éclair. Enjoy!

-Mr. Jenkins.

Sigh stumbled blindly, aware that she was now a bright red target for the Shinigami family to aim for. She didn't care if she ran into people, if she stepped on their toes or the fact that they were giving her filthy clothes and mussed hair suspicious glances. If only she could make it home, make it back to Madame Éclair. She would know what to do. She always knew.'"

The woman paused in her story, stretching in the fading light of the grinning sun. The crowd stirred, many blinking and looking around as though freed from a trance. It had been a strange experience, almost like the narrator had literally taking them back to the moments she spoke of. They had been following the girl, unseen, untouched, the omnipresent voice of the story whispered in their ears as they watched.

They attributed it to the woman's skill. A groan rose in her audience as they realized that she was leaving. "Come on guys. I'm tired. We'll continue tomorrow. After school."

"But we wanna know what happened to Sigh! Did the reaper catch her?"

"Or did she escape with Madame Éclair?"

"And what was she? You said she wasn't using soul protect but the shinigami couldn't sense her!" The woman shrugged. "Like I said, wait until tomorrow. I'm getting tired, and you'll be late for dinner soon." The complaining grew louder. The storyteller ignored it, already thinking about the meat she had marinating in her kitchen.