~ Epilogue ~

Promise's Reprise

There may not be an answer to this tune,

Why the sky is blue?

Is the change in me all true?

Now that you are next to me I have no fears,

And all I know is that I want to be with you,

Sometimes, it's easy to forget the times we weep,

The moment makes us weak,

And all the shame I seek,

Memories exist for all the precious days my heart still wants to keep,

Somewhere deep inside of me…

Tucked away in her usual spot at the corner of the coffee shop, Celia kept herself busy with her latest drawing. Her computer remained powered off in her bag, resting by her feet beneath the table. She worked instead with a very old set of pastels she had recently dug out of her closet, trying her best to keep her mind occupied.

But the date, July 24th, flashed through her mind against her will.

With a sigh, Celia set her pastels down and began fiddling with her phone. Nine days had come and gone. Ten sunrises that brought renewed hopes of seeing her friend again soon. Nine, and soon to be ten, mornings spent waiting in vain.

Faith had been true to his promise, if he had ever made the promise at all. Life had more or less returned to normal, but an unpleasant ache followed Celia wherever she went. The Reapers' Game felt like a distant dream she could not quite shake, a dream she yearned to return to.

But Celia knew it had been more than a dream. She felt rather morbid as she scrolled through a list of the articles she had saved down, but they were her only assurance that her haunting memories were very, very real.

A story of one Graham Smith, killed nearly three weeks ago in a freak accident while working in a university lab. His classmate and lab partner, Jason Reed, had been rushed to the hospital, and was expected to make a fully recovery.

A tragic tale of a college professor, Paul Ward, who had suffered a heart attack and passed away in his sleep ten days ago.

A more familiar article of a successful local businessman, Michael Ariel, who had been shot and killed in what was believed to be a drug-related crime.

An article she had found only that morning, detailing how a local hunter, Bradley Dolphus, had been mauled to death while attempting to poach a bear.

With a sigh, Celia tabbed away from her browser. She knew that if she dug further, she would likely find others she'd recognize. At least three people named Tom had passed away in the last month, any of who could have been Paul's partner, and an obituary for Trevor seemed likely to appear soon. Unfortunately, knowing that the Reapers' Game had been real didn't seem to be doing her any good.

Celia brought up a list of her recently sent texts, including one sent that very morning: sixteen messages sent to Faith's number, each met with the same error. Nine calls, too, that hadn't gone through.

She set her phone aside listlessly, reaching for her pastels once more. Only then did she notice someone standing a few feet away from her table, a gangly teen with russet brown hair, who looked to be sun-deprived with his pasty complexion.

"Uh… hey… hi," Blake said, his discomfort growing when he saw Celia looking his way.

"Hello," Celia greeted politely.

"I… uh… I don't know if you remember me," Blake mumbled. "I ordered a drawing from you a few weeks ago."

"I remember you, Blake," Celia said, fighting hard not to smile.

"Oh," Blake said, swallowing uncomfortably. "Hey, uh… I'm sorry. I was a total ass to you. The picture you drew for me was fine. More than fine, really. It was great. I was just, I mean… I just wanted to apologize. So um… sorry."

"No worries," Celia said, trying to sound cheery as she accepted the clumsy apology.

Blake nodded, relieved. "Also, I shouldn't have run off without paying you," he added, reaching into his pocket for an envelope stuffed full of cash. "You already put so much time and effort into drawing it for me, after all."

"Oh, don't worry about it. It happens all the time," Celia assured. "Besides, I don't have the print with me right now, anyways."

"Even if it happens all the time, it isn't fair," Blake said determinedly, holding out the envelope to her anyways. "You can keep the print. I just didn't feel right ripping you off."

"Really, Blake, it's alright," Celia insisted. But as she spoke, she noticed what little color there was on Blake's face draining away. "Blake? What is it?"

"That… that drawing," Blake whispered.

Celia followed Blake's gaze downward to her most current work, and winced, suddenly remembering what it was that she had been drawing.

A towering tree made purely of ice emerged from the sea below, standing tall and proud beneath the starless night sky. Crystalline leaves covered each of the trees many branches, and sparkling snowflakes sprinkled down past them towards the waves below. Two figures sat in the tree's great hollow, sitting side by side and leaning against one another, cherishing the peaceful night.

Blake looked up at Celia in horror. "It was real?" he whispered questioningly, as if pleading with her to tell him otherwise.

Celia slumped back in her seat. She had known it was real all along, but somehow, finding absolute proof of it standing before her was something entirely different. "Yeah, I guess it was," she said listlessly.

"Oh, god," Blake groaned, slapping a hand over his forehead. He collapsed into the chair opposite of Celia. "I thought it was a dream. I kept hoping it was all just a dream and that none of it really happened. When I saw that article about Michael, I told myself it was a coincidence, too. Now I'm here, apologizing for being rude to you instead of for… ah, damn it. I'm sorry, Celia."

Celia wavered indecisively, wondering if she should try to alleviate some of Blake's guilt by telling him the rest of what she had learned. Then she quickly realized that there was no good way for her to explain her conversation with Hanekoma and Faith, and that she didn't really want to discuss it anyways. "Alright, you're forgiven," she said, readily accepting his apology. "Thank you, Blake."

"Don't thank me," Blake said, relaxing visibly. "Or apologize to me either, for that matter," he added quickly.

Celia chuckled. "Okay. I won't," she agreed. But her amusement faded quickly as she looked upon her phone again.

Blake frowned, noticing Celia's mood. "You're thinking about him again, aren't you?" he guessed.

Celia only shrugged.

"By the way, how did you end up getting back here? They didn't make you play the Game again, did they?" Blake asked. As he spoke, his eyes widened in shock, for another possibility had just occurred to him. "Wait… you didn't let them make you into a Reaper, did you?"

"I'm not really sure what happened," Celia admitted. "I didn't have to play the Game again, though. I just sort of fell asleep. When I woke up, I was alive again."

"That's the same thing that happened to me," Blake nodded. "I guess they decided to bring you back to life, after all."

"I suppose," Celia agreed unhappily.

"You know, I bet it had something to do with Faith," Blake said thoughtfully. "He must have known something we didn't."

Celia winced upon hearing Faith's name spoken aloud.

Blake shot her a sympathetic look. "He's really gone, then?" Blake asked tentatively. Celia didn't respond, and Blake, too, fell silent, unsure of what else to say.

Celia stared down at her drawing, which was only missing the last bit of shading on the sky. Somehow, though she was so near to being finished, she couldn't find the will to reach for her pastels and complete it.

When Blake next spoke up, several minutes had already gone by. "Hey, Celia. I'm really sorry about Faith," he said quietly. "I've got to go. And… um… I doubt you'd be interested, but if you ever need someone to talk to… well, we were partners once, weren't we? If you ever need someone to talk to, just let me know. I'd be happy to listen."

Celia nodded. "Okay. Thanks again, Blake."

"See you later," Blake said, rising to leave. As he departed, he glanced back worriedly at his former partner, wishing that there was more he could offer her.

Once Blake was gone, Celia turned back to her painting. But before she could convince herself to reach for her pastels again, someone dropped into Blake's recently-vacated seat.

"Finally," Faith groaned. "I thought he'd never leave."

Celia looked up at him in shock.

"You alright, C? You look a bit pale," Faith said worriedly.

"You came back," Celia whispered.

"Of course I came back. It's my city, remember?" Faith smiled. "It was, anyways. Now it's our city."

"Our city," Celia murmured.

"Well, unless you've changed your mind," Faith said uneasily. "If you have, it might not be too late for me to fix things for you."

At that notion, Celia burst out laughing, shaking her head as her eyes brimmed with tears of relief and joy. "I thought you were gone," she said, her voice barely more than a trembling whisper. "I thought you were gone, Faith."

In a flash, Faith moved to her side, wrapping one arm around her shoulder comfortingly. "Hey now, don't cry," he said soothingly. "Come on, you'll mess up your work." As he spoke, he realized how odd it was for Celia to be drawing by hand instead of digitally, and took a closer look at the nearly completed drawing.

Suddenly, Celia felt flustered. Up until then, she had wanted so desperately for him to see her new drawing, but now that he was there, staring at it in silence, she felt an urge to hide it. "H-Hey," she protested, trying to wipe her tears away. "Don't look at… I mean, it's not really… it's not finished yet."

"It's beautiful, Celia," Faith whispered. "But… but why?"

"I didn't know if you were coming back," Celia said softly, feeling sillier than ever. "I didn't want to forget."

"Forget? I left all your memories intact, didn't I?" Faith asked, perplexed.

Celia took a deep breath and brushed away her tears. Then she looked at her friend sternly. "Yes, you did. You've also been avoiding me for over a week now," she said, trying her best to sound annoyed. She slid her phone over to him.

Faith stared at the list of her recently sent messages. A moment later, everything clicked into place, and he began to laugh, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Celia. I should have warned you."

"Warned me about what?" Celia asked, finding it impossible to hold onto her anger.

"Come on. Let's go for a walk," Faith invited. "There's a few things I need to go over with you, and this probably isn't the best place to talk."

Once they were outside, Faith began leading Celia down the familiar Seattle streets. Under the open, sunny sky, Celia noticed that Faith seemed every bit as weary and haggard as he had been when they had met in Hanekoma's café.

"Are you alright, Faith?" Celia asked gently. "You seem a bit tired."

"A bit, but I'm feeling better now than I can ever remember feeling," Faith assured her, smiling serenely.

Then they came upon the Space Needle, and Faith stopped. "Here?" Celia asked.

Faith nodded. "We should probably retreat to the Underground to talk," he suggested. "You're a Reaper now, so you can move between the two planes at will."

"Okay," Celia agreed. "How?"

"We just did," Faith grinned. "Like I said, at will." As if to demonstrate, he threw a punch at a nearby pedestrian, and his fist sank straight through the elderly man's torso. "Once you get used to moving between planes, you'll become more aware of which plane you are currently in."

"Oh," Celia said, deciding it best not to imitate Faith in case she hadn't done everything quite right.

"Anyways, about what I was saying earlier," Faith continued. "I haven't been avoiding you, Celia. In fact, just three hours ago, we were having coffee together in WildKat. I put you to sleep after, and brought you home from Shibuya right after."

"From Shibuya?" Celia asked. Then the truth dawned upon her. "Of course! You were still in the Reapers' Game!"

"Yep," Faith said with a nod. "The Game still had to happen, but the Realground had to diverge. After I brought you home, I had to rewrite the past week, leaving a shadow of the Realground to run parallel to the game, and correct the true Realground to properly account for the Game's outcome. You relived the time since your death here in the true Realground, while I was confined to the Underground and the original state of the Realground."

"That explains why I couldn't reach you. We weren't even in the same plane," Celia said thoughtfully.

"Which shouldn't be a problem in the future," Faith said, handing Celia a phone that looked fairly new. "This used to be Ariel's. With it, you'll be able to reach me regardless of what plane you're in or whether you have signal. I already copied everything from your phone onto this one, too."

"Really? Thanks," Celia said. She began flipping through the new phone, and quickly saw that everything was already in order, just as Faith had promised.

"I've seen Producers do some pretty amazing things with ordinary phones," Faith went on. "So if you want to experiment with your phone – or mine, for that matter – go right ahead."

"How many Producers have you known?" Celia asked curiously.

"Including you? Three," Faith replied.

"So when you say Producers, you really just mean Hanekoma," Celia guessed slyly.

"Pretty much," Faith admitted. "I never really got to see much of Michael's work. He and I were both too busy trying to cover for Minamimoto."

"Speaking of Minamimoto," Celia interrupted, suddenly remembering how Bradley and Trevor had seemingly singled her out during the game. "Two of the Reapers kept targeting me during the Game. They claimed that the Conductor sent them."

"Dolphus and Nguyen, the two Reapers you and Blake erased, right?" Faith asked. He sighed. "That's my fault, too. Years ago, when Minamimoto and I first met and partnered up, we already disliked each other. By the time we finished the week, we hated each other outright. He was every bit as unhappy about our arrangement here as I was. He couldn't risk moving against me directly; even while I was a Game Master and my powers were limited, I would've gladly put the Game on hold to deal with him. Since he couldn't touch me, he took it out on you instead." He smiled sadly. "I did try to warn you. Being my friend can be pretty dangerous."

"I don't care," Celia said fiercely, not liking the faint trace of doubt she heard in his voice.

"I know you don't," Faith laughed. "That's why I changed my mind about sending you away. As Mr. H always says, trust your partner. You knew what you were getting yourself into. I hope you knew, at least."

"Oh, I knew," Celia said, relieved. "And if it's ever too much for me to handle alone, I know you'll be there for me."

"I will," Faith promised solemnly.

"So, now that I'm Producer, what do I have to do?" Celia asked curiously.

"There's a few things you should know about Producers, first," Faith began.

"Hanekoma told me that no one's supposed to even know the Producers exist," Celia said.

"Precisely," Faith nodded. "Normally, none of the Reapers even meet the Producer, unless the Producer is forced to intercede in the Game. The problem is, you're a Reaper, too. For now, you can just share my disguise. Most of the Reapers believe me to be a visitor from Shibuya. You and the Conductor will be the only ones to know what I really am; the Conductor will know you as my personal assistant, and will not hand you any assignments, either. You can follow the Game at your own discretion."

"Umm… are you sure Minamimoto will listen?" Celia asked dubiously.

"I'm sure he wouldn't," Faith chuckled. "Thankfully, he and the other two Reapers from Shibuya are headed home today. You and I will have to pick a new Conductor before our next game, but we'll have at least a few days to decide. In the meantime, I'd like you to redesign the Player pins."

"Really? I like the snowflake motif, though," Celia said.

"So do I. Ariel was following my request when he designed the Player pins," Faith said. "I've always felt his design to be a bit underwhelming, though, and I'd like to see what you can do with it. You can keep the theme if you'd like, or do something entirely new if you'd prefer. It's up to you."

"Okay," Celia agreed readily.

"Ariel's old workspace and supplies are yours, if you want them," Faith went on. "But if you'd like to keep working from home instead, I understand. I can send you some blank pins whenever you're design is ready."

"Where did Michael used to work?" Celia asked curiously.

"When needed, the Reapers gather on the floor below the Hall of Adjudication, that room where we brief the Players before the Game," Faith explained. "Ariel and I shared one of the corner offices on that floor. I'm still working there now, but if you're worried about me distracting you, we can work something out; I can move out easily enough."

"I can share an office with you," Celia decided immediately. "You don't have to worry about distracting me."

"Alright. Would you like me to show you the office now?" Faith offered.

Celia was about to agree, but changed her mind at the last second. "We're not in a hurry, are we?" she asked.

"Not really, no," Faith replied.

"Then maybe we could wait until tomorrow," Celia suggested. "You've been busy ever since the Game ended, haven't you? You should go home and get some sleep, Faith."

"Do I really look that bad?" Faith laughed. "Mr. H told me the same thing."

"How long has it been since you've gotten a full night's rest?" Celia countered. "Two nights? Three?"

"Something like that," Faith said evasively. "Tell you what, once we're finished, I'll head home and take a nap before I get back to work."

Celia gave him a hard stare. "How long has it been?" she demanded suspiciously.

Faith sighed, realizing he wasn't about to fool her. "Since before you were killed," he admitted.

"Since before I… Faith! That was over a week ago!" Celia protested. She shook her head in exasperation. "I'll get started on the Player pins, and we can go over everything else later," she said. "Go get some sleep, Faith."

"I'm fine, Celia. Really," Faith insisted. "At least let me give you a ride home, first."

Celia almost declined the offer, when another idea occurred to her instead. "Alright," she agreed. "Thanks."

Late that evening, Karen returned home, nearly bored to death after yet another long, idle day in her office. "Hello, Celia," she called wearily.

Across the room, Celia was sitting at the dining table, drawing away. "Hey, Karen. How was work?" she greeted, looking up briefly and flashing her friend a welcoming smile.

Karen shrugged. "Boring. Same as always," she said. "How about you? You seem to have cheered up a little. Is that pastel painting of yours coming along well, then?"

"It's nearly finished, but I'm putting it on hold for a bit to work on something else," Celia said.

"Really? Hang on, let me put my stuff away, then you can show me what you're up to and we can figure out what to do for dinner," Karen said, heading towards her room.

"Sure," Celia said absently, as her attention returned to her work. A silent alarm went off in her head, though, and she leapt to her feet a split second later. "Karen, wait!" she called.

But she was already too late. Karen stood frozen at the open doorway leading to Celia's bedroom, staring with her jaw agape. "Umm… Celia?"

"Yes?" Celia asked innocently, bracing herself.

"Did you know there's someone in your room, sleeping on your bed?" Karen asked carefully.

"Yeah," Celia admitted. "That's Faith. You know, the friend I mentioned to you a couple times?"

"You've mentioned him more than a couple times, actually," Karen commented wryly. "So that's him, huh? Did he explain where he's been this past week? And what's he doing here?"

"Yeah, we talked for a bit," Celia said. "He offered to give me a ride home, too. He was pretty tired, though, so I told him to take a nap and promised we could talk after he woke up."

"You invited him to stay so that he could take a nap?" Karen asked incredulously. She shook her head, exasperated. "You two have to be the strangest couple I've ever met."

"Oh, we're not really…" Celia tried to interrupt.

Karen cut her off with an exasperated sigh. "Whatever you two are, then," she amended wryly. "Anyways, what're we going to do about dinner? Did you two have something planned already?"

"Nope," Celia said. "Come to think of it, I wonder if he forgot to eat this past week, too," she added quietly to herself.

"You're exaggerating, I hope," Karen commented dryly, overhearing Celia.

"Oh. Yeah, of course," Celia said quickly. "Hey, why don't we go to dinner together? You wanted to meet him, right?"

"Meet who?" Faith asked, coming awake with a yawn.

"Faith, this is my roommate, Karen," Celia introduced. "Karen, this is Faith."

"Nice to meet you," Karen greeted politely. "Celia's told me so much about you."

"Good things, I hope," Faith said, smiling faintly.

"Hey, Faith, Karen and I were thinking about getting dinner together. Want to join us?" Celia invited.

"Sure," Faith agreed, glancing out the window. "Looks like it's getting late, anyways. We can go over everything else tomorrow at the office, I guess."

"Everything else? The office?" Karen asked curiously.

Celia looked to Faith, unsure of how best to explain.

"My partner kind of bailed on me the other day. He used to handle most of the artistic stuff for the business, like logos and stuff," Faith said nonchalantly. "When Celia learned of it, she offered to take over for him."

"You're making her your new partner? Just like that?" Karen asked, frowning.

"Sure. It seemed like a pretty good idea," Faith said, shrugging. "She's certainly capable, from what I've seen."

"And you actually want to do this?" Karen asked, rounding on Celia. "You want to give up on the freelance stuff and work a regular job instead?"

Celia nodded happily. "It sounds like a lot of fun, and I was getting tired of scrounging for work, anyways," she said. "Don't worry about it, Karen. We've got it all worked out. Now come on, let's go find something to eat."

"Alright," Karen said with a shrug. "Give me a moment to freshen up."

"Sure. We'll wait for you downstairs, alright?" Celia said.

"Karen will probably be a while," Celia warned, when she and Faith stepped outside.

"That's alright," Faith said, unconcerned.

"Is there anything else you wanted to go over before tomorrow?" Celia asked.

"I think we've covered almost everything. We'll have to fill out some paperwork tomorrow. To the rest of the world, it will look like you're just working a regular job," Faith said. "That's pretty much all, unless you have any other questions for me."

"Just one," Celia said. "We're officially partners, right? Shouldn't we forge our pact again?"

"We shouldn't need to, unless you're planning to do battle in the Underground," Faith said. "Even then, Reapers can use their psychs without a pact, so a partner usually isn't necessary."

"Oh," Celia said, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Faith smiled when he noticed Celia's crestfallen look. "But we can form a pact anyways, if you want," he offered, extending a hand towards her.

Celia took his hand at once, and as they touched, she felt Faith's presence shining warmly once more, sharing her elation and contentment. Then, on impulse, she tightened her grip and pulled herself closer, drawing her new partner into a tight hug. "Thank you, Faith," she whispered.

"No, I should be thanking you," Faith corrected warmly. "Thank you, C. This world ends with us, now."

A lullaby for you,

Don't you worry, baby,

I'll be here, by your side,

May tomorrow be wonderful too,

Close to you I hope to stay,

Endlessly from today,

Even through cloud days,

You are not alone…