"In fear we met,

Dark skies gloomy with death, Passion draining from your veins with a blizzard fire burning bright in your eyes,

So cold and grey,

I saw this, the only window to the soul open, only you were not flesh but a spirit itself,

Demons surrounded me, the reaper inviting me but you being a reaper yourself,

An angel of death,

You saved me from demise and in your arms I was safe..."

"Beautiful...absolutely beautiful...but why is it full of death and demons, Lisa?"

Together in the school yard, classes were done and the girls from room 4B decided to kill time under their favourite tree before going to their part-time jobs.

Sweaters taken off, white cotton shirts un-tucked from their short brown pleated skirts, they laid on the grass, some finishing up a snack, others doing each other's hair and makeup while she, Dahlia, laid on the ground prostrate, her mind in another place.

She wasn't the one who suggested it, she would have preferred to be alone in her room thinking of him, the one in her dreams.

But she had to keep up appearances, for the sake of her grandmother, she thought, who was sick of her anti-social tendencies and now she was more convinced that her dear Dahlia was going insane always going on and on about some death angel.

"I got that from Dahlia's story..." a blonde haired girl reading the poem answered.

The closest thing to a best friend, that she had. The girls had met in the beginning of high school, both taking up an arts and literature class, the only thing they had in common was they were both passionate art and unlocking the hidden world of words and colour but other than that very different.

Dahlia was reserved, didn't like sharing stories about her life, didn't want to open up and share her feelings while Lisa on the other hand could never run short of finding ways to express her opinion, even bleaching her hair to prove a point.

The Monday she appeared in class with blonde strands instead of her trademark curly raven head, she had told her class she was revolting against the conservative Asian mentality.

Even though they loved each other like cousins, she found it ridiculous. It was only through preservation that Japanese traditions still remained and only through preservation that old stories, such as those of Death gods, 'shinigami' were still shared.

Dahlia twisted the hem of her skirt, the conversation about her dreams going on around her without her notice.

Shinigami.

Her nocturnal hero was one, she had found out from her research. Refusing to let her friend's advice to let him go hinder her from knowing the truth, the dream was too real. She could sometimes still feel the warmth from his finger tips as he grabbed her waist, the breath from his lips caressing her bare naked arm as he gently set her down on the rooftop.

"Was it a dream, really or is it made up?" one of the girls in the group asked

"But of course it was a dream, she wouldn't lie about..."

Let them talk, what matters is what I saw...what I felt...

Will you ever come to see me again, will I ever touch your flesh to prove you were real or maybe finally... see your face...Shinigami?

A tiny white butterfly flapped its wings past her eyes and perched on her shoulder, she gently caught it in her hands and smiled before letting it go. She had read somewhere that butterflies were messengers, letting it go perhaps, would serve the purpose and he would hear her...

Maybe come to her or she would go to the place where they met in her dream.

"Will I wait till my last day, or will you come for me eventually? I long to be in your embrace Shinigami-san.

That is how your poem should end, Lisa." she finally spoke and everyone else agreed but internally questioning her sanity.

*****Urahara's shop******

"Ah...Kuchiki taichou, you are two days early!" the slender man sucking a lolly, held by hands covered by sleeves from his over-sized black coat, shouted from across his yard. His trademark striped green and white hat tilted to conceal his face.

"It is better to prepare early." Byakuya was forced to answer as he stepped away from the senkai gate; he had to excuse himself for appearing un-announced but it was necessary.

He needed to sort his living arrangements among other things seeing that he would spend quite a lengthy time in the real world.

"But don't worry, I might be a humble shopkeeper but I am very efficient you know. Therefore, we received your instructions and requests and I am proud to say, Tensai-dono and I have worked on them promptly." Urahara responded with a smile.

"Hai!"

Someone from inside the shop agreed in a loud booming voice and the shopkeeper grinned again.

"Then let us make haste." Byakuya was in no mood for comedy, just two days ago he received instructions to head the task force that would track the new Arrancar threat in the real world and here he was, standing in front of a disgraced possibly mentally unstable former Captain, supposedly the only liaison between Sereitei and the real world.

"Yes..yes...Taichou, everyone is inside, you don't have to be in that mood. I know something to cheer you up, an old friend of yours can't wait to see you..." his voice peeked in pitch when he uttered the 'you' part, Byakuya couldn't get anymore annoyed with his presence at that moment, the sneaky bastard had a reputation for trickery and he knew he was about to become a victim.

It would be a long mission, it seemed.

He narrowed his eyes, he was certain he had no "friends" living in the real world but just as he was about to carefully ask, he felt something warm and fury rubbing on his ankles, there was his answer and he was half tempted to turn back around and head back home for the sake of his sanity.