Far East Branch Headquarters

The steaming hot water felt therapeutic against her cool skin. After returning from the Corrupt Cocoon Mission, Reaper managed to make a colossal mess both literally and metaphorically. Upon their arrival, she left a trail of filth from her muddy footprints to the various puddles left by her dripping wet hair. Upon seeing their companion soaked to the bone, covered in blood, mud, and other unknown debris, Ichiro and Lindow had leapt to their feet. Poor Sakuya was immediately bombarded with questions from the two veterans, both concerned that the New Type may have had another relapse. She tried to explain that she had simply tripped, but neither of them seemed satisfied with her answer.

Growing bored of their exchange, Reaper decided that she had had enough and with no orders to follow, wandered off while everyone was distracted. What reason did she have to remain, but to watch them bicker amongst themselves? She was tired, hungry, wet, and as everyone soon realized, unchaperoned. Upon noticing her disappearance, what had begun as a small misunderstanding amongst the First Unit quickly escalated into a full scale debacle, with nearly half the Den getting roped into locating the missing New Type. When they found her, she had been sitting on the Director's sofa, sipping on a cola from one of the vending machines. It wasn't clear how she had made her way into the locked office, but both the Director and the rest of the Den were far too irritated to care.

Now, after redirection and a scolding, she was standing in the showers relaxing. A sigh escaped her lips as she let the warm water wash all of the dirt and grime from her body. Her hand mindlessly brushed over her side which had born a terrible gash only hours before. As she ran her fingers through her violet hair, her mind kept drifting back to that afternoon. No matter how many times she recounted the events of the day, one face kept appearing in her mind. Sakuya Tachibana, the First Unit's second in a command and among the top snipers in the Far East Branch. Her short bob cut framed her striking red irises and her fascinating attire. Her kind, motherly personality seemed to attract all who surrounded her.

The idea that someone would help her with nothing to gain in return boggled her. What was her primary purpose? What was she after, if anything at all? If her goal was simply to assist her, then why? No one had given her orders to do so.

"Hey, wasn't that the New Type that went by here?"

Reaper's eye slowly drifted towards the sound of the voice.

"Yeah, I think her name is Reaper or something like that."

"She's an oddball, that one. Did she go into the shower with her scarf? What's up with that?"

"Maybe she's washing it…"

Tired of their conversation, she returned her attention to scrubbing the caked mud out of her messy hair. She was used to gossips like these. She had dealt with them every day at her old home in the North American Branch. Compared to the things that they would say about her, these girls were practically singing her praises. The fact that they weren't running in terror was good enough for her. As her hand slowly drifted to her scarf, another sigh escaped from her lips. Her mind began to wander, as she reminisced old memories of a happier time.

"Hey, why don't you wear it like a scarf?"

"A… scarf? What's that?" She tilted her head curiously at the word. She had never heard of the accessory before and hoped that he would show her.

"You've never heard of a scarf?"

She shook her head.

"Hang on." The young boy disappeared, rummaging through a dresser off screen. When he returned, he held a long stretch of fabric in his hands. "You wrap it around your neck, like this." Demonstrating, he wrapped the cloth around his neck, covering it. "

Her face lit up with delight at his suggestion. Smiling, the little girl wrapped the long golden material around her neck." Like this?"

"Exactly. Hey, it looks pretty good on you."

"Thanks!"

Washing the lather from her body, Reaper turned the knob and stopped the water. She reached mindlessly for her towel, remaining lost in her thoughts. She had tried to search the NORN database for any information about her friend, but after the incident, she was lost in the wilderness with no access to technology or civilization in general. Upon her return, she was unable to go anywhere or do anything without an armed squadron at her back. She had no way to access the NORN or collect any information regarding her missing companion.

What bothered her the most was her memories. While she could vaguely remember his smiling face and cheerful voice, she couldn't remember much of anything else. She couldn't remember any detail or even so much as his name. And her memories only grew cloudier the further along her rehabilitation progressed. She knew not what had happened to him, whether he was alive or dead. At the very least, she had wanted to keep her memories of him, as they were the only fragments of joy left in her life. With a heavy heart, she dried herself and dressed in a clean set of clothes. She wrapped her eyepatch around her head and exited the shower room.

Wandering the halls towards her quarters, she ran over a checklist in her mind of what she needed to do for the remainder of her day. She needed to find something to eat and explore the floor. She needed to visit Ichiro for her weekly treatment. Come to think of it, Ichiro Hamasaki was the lead researcher at her old branch. Maybe he could help her find some answers to her inquiries regarding her memories. Maybe they could even discuss it while he was treating her.

Her thoughts came to a pause along with her body as she stopped moving. One hand braced her weight as she leaned against the wall, the other reaching towards her neck as the familiar tingling sensation gnawed at her throat. It was happening again. Her oracle cells must have stimulated from her intake earlier in the day. Perhaps she shouldn't have eaten those…

Reaper coughed, her hand clutching her throat as the sensation intensified, erupting into a searing pain. Her hand slipped from the wall, and she lost her balance, collapsing to the floor in a gasping, crumpled heap. She instinctively opened her mouth to scream, but all that escaped was a quiet whistle as her tissues began to twist and turn. Tears of pain threatened to spill from her eyes and her vision began to blur. Lying helplessly on the ground, she lifted her hand and reached out for something, someone, anyone to grab on to.

"What the hell!?" A male voice tore through the silence of the hallway. Like a beacon of hope, a man appeared before her. He was tall and mysterious with tan skin, his platinum white hair peeking out through the sides of his blue hood. She had seen this man before; once on the night of her arrival through the holes in her cage. She had seen him again in the training room when she had been ordered to eliminate him… That's right. Reaper had tried to kill him. How fitting that he would be the one to find her in this state. What was his name…

His footsteps grew louder as he broke into a run. When he reached her, he knelt to the ground and lifted her from the ground. When he turned her over, he saw her visible eye twitching in pain. Her hand was gripping at her scarf, clawing at her neck as though she were trying to tear it open. Soma grabbed her hand and pulled it away to stop her from further injuring herself. When he did, he saw a disturbing sight.

Her scarf was... moving. No, something beneath her scarf. Holding her hand steady he snaked his arm further around her back to move the blue fabric. He jumped slightly, pulling his hand back from her scarf. It was cold. Very, very cold… and rough. What type of fabric what thing made of? As Reaper convulsed violently in his arms, he tightened his grip to hold her steady. Now wasn't the time to be questioning trivial matters.

Reaching again, he pulled the fabric down slightly, ignoring her as she vigorously shook her head. His eyes twitched as he noticed the skin underneath. He only caught a glimpse, but it was enough to see the burn marks and the scars marring her skin. What on earth had happened to her? He slid the scarf further down and found what he was looking for. The skin on her throat… or more specifically the tissue under the skin was shifting. Her breath came in shallow gasps and her eyes began to lose focus.

"Hey. Stay with me, all right?"

His face didn't show it, but he was terrified. Nothing frightened Soma more than losing a comrade, even worse, being powerless to stop it. But he didn't know what to do. She was clearly in a great deal of pain, but he could do nothing to help her. He didn't even know what was wrong. If only there were a doctor nearby, he could… a doctor!

Sakaki's office was on a different floor, but few were using the lift at this time. He could get to his laboratory and return with him in a matter of minutes. But a few minutes could also be detrimental. He couldn't simply leave her choking alone on the floor. This woman had a penchant for wandering off at the most inopportune times. He could carry her, but depending on what the problem was, moving her could prove even more dangerous. As her body convulsed again, he began to panic. He was running out of options and possibly out of time. He couldn't wait any longer. He needed to get help.

In his arms, Reaper's body trembled. She hated this part of the process, yet she had been forced to endure it again and again and again. Left to suffer alone in the cold, dim room, with no one there to hear her cries. But this time was different. She wasn't alone. Someone was there, comforting her… and the last person she would expect. The man who, days before, had been her target. The man who's stoic features seemed familiar, yet so foreign. The man who's name she could never seem to remember. Her mind worked furiously, reaching into the deepest depths of her memories.

Reaper's body stilled and her eyelids grew heavy. Soma watched as her once tense muscles grew limp. He wasn't going to wait anymore. Making his decision, he made to let her down.

"…So… ma…"

His entire body froze at the sound. It was low, rasping sound, barely more than a whisper. Yet something about it drew him in. It was an indescribable feeling. Slowly, he looked back down at the New Type whose blue eye was now trained on him. As their eyes met, they communicated a silent message. She needed no words to convey her thoughts as her expression said it all.

Stay.

He didn't want to leave her alone, but he had no other option. As he made to stand again, her limp arm sprung to life. Her hand gripped his wrist with enough force to make him flinch. She was unusually strong. Her eye pleaded with him, showing more emotion in it than he had seen at any point during her time there. He needed to get help. He needed to let her go…

"Damn it."

Exasperated, Soma finally gave in and remained still. It wasn't like he could move anyway. To do so he would have to pry off her vice-like grip. He was strong enough to do so, he was sure, but it wasn't worth the risk of hurting her in the process. Once satisfied that he wasn't going to leave her, she loosened her grip on his wrist and let her arm fall loosely to her side.

Soma wasn't certain how long he had held her in his arms, tightening his hold on her whenever she began to shake. For some reason, it seemed to comfort her so he didn't mind it too much. He was just grateful that no one was around to bear witness. The last thing either one of them needed were any more rumors.

At last, she opened her eye and sighed. Her bangs were damp with cold sweat and her ragged breath slowly stabilized. He remained still and observed her closely. He didn't want to agitate her, lest she start convulsing again. But she didn't. It was finally over. He shifted his grip and placed his hand along her back to help her sit up. Her mouth twitched as his hand brushed along the edge of her scarf.

Carefully, he rose to his feet and helped her stand. He held her wobbling form steady as she regained her balance. Once she had found her bearings, she turned her head to look at him. He was eyeing her with concern, she could tell. Soma didn't display much in the way of emotion, but he didn't need to. She could see the way his eyes flicked up and down across her body, checking for any signs of discomfort. She could feel his grip, gentle but firm, refusing to let her fall. Slowly, she raised her hands and signed to him, before nodding and turning to leave.

Thank you.

"You gonna be alright?" Soma called after her, his voice coming out a little harsher than intended. The entire situation had been very stressful for him, and he was slightly on edge. She didn't seem to mind however, as she turned to him and nodded her head. As she strode down the hall, he could see that her balance had returned and she was no longer distressed. The lift echoed through the empty hall as the doors slid open. He watched her step onto the lift, the doors closing behind her.

Left alone, he turned to continue down the hallway to his original destination. The events had left him feeling frustrated and concerned. He had no idea what had happened to the New Type or why. He knew that something was unusual about her, her arrival alone being enough to warrant concern, but now he had to worry about intermittent collapse? That didn't bode well. What if she were to fall while they were in the field? Surely, the Director wouldn't allow her out in such a state. She was the only New Type in the branch and far too valuable to risk her safety. Perhaps he didn't know. Making a note to pay his father a visit later, he continued on his way.