A/N: Hello again. It's been a while, and I must apologize for that. It's not that I've forgotten or have been neglecting this-- I just haven't had time lately. The only thing I can promise is not quantity or frequency, but quality. (Hopefully!) Considering this thing goes past me so many times it's ridiculous, I hope you guys approve. xD Thanks again, and reveiws are always appreciated. Enjoy.

oxo

--Dead Like Us--

Chapter Four:

The Name of the Game

oxoxoxoxo

"Whoa--" Lavi ducked as the golden object narrowly missed crashing into his head, happily swooping down to meet the two.

The previous occupant of the apartment (as Allen supposed it really wasn't his anymore) stood in the doorway and watched the thing hover around his head in absolute amazement. For several more seconds, it hovered from side to side as Allen, the poor confused boy that he was, recovered.

"You're...not supposed to be alive..." he told it in an almost-whisper, attempting reason.

"Neither are you," Lavi chuckled, and stuck out a finger for it to land on. Instead, it took to Allen's head, settling itself into his white hair, which prompted another laugh from the red-head. "He seems to like you."

"Alright..." Allen said, cupping the cheerful little thing in his hands and removing it from its perch in his hair. "But what is it?"

Lavi looked as if he were thinking for a minute, and then said, "Must be a golem."

"What's that?"

"A sort of tool. They serve no other purpose than communication, but they're really quite helpful," Lavi scratched the thing like one would a cat as it stood on four stubby limbs in Allen's palm. "I've never seen one like this, though."

The golem took to the air again, flapping softly to stay aloft.

"It used to just sit there..." Allen half-sighed.

Lavi laughed again and plopped down onto the bed. "You find lots of things change when you die."

"Maybe I should be used to this by now," Allen said, with an almost-laugh.

"Maybe. It takes a while to get used to," Lavi watched the little golden golem light atop Allen's head again. "...We should give it a name."

Allen laughed-- his first true laugh in a long time. It made his lungs ache, and he felt a weight slide off his chest. He could breathe more easily. It felt, undeniably, good. "What?"

"A name, Beansprout, a name! Poor thing needs a name." Lavi's face was so serious it was comical.

"Bob," Allen offered, and Lavi scoffed.

"A good name."

"Frankenstein."

Lavi laughed. "Naw," he said. "How about...'Timcanpy'?"

"Why that?"

"Dunno. He looks like a Tim to me."

The reaper raised an eyebrow in amusement. "How so? Gut feeling?"

"You can call it that." Lavi jumped up from the bed, and the golem leapt into the air again, whizzing around excitedly. "Now that that's settled...What is it you needed?"

Allen's smile faded as he looked around the apartment, full of memories and the smell of years. Every piece had something attached to it; a memory, a thought, a person...Allen gave a mournful look.

"Just...some things."

-oxoxoxoxo-

Allen sifted carefully through his belongings, fully aware of the fact that he probably wouldn't be coming back again. A better half of his clothes were folded hastily and stuffed into a bag the two had uncovered, and Allen was now going through his various trinkets --not that he had many, but any room seemed to pile up with random objects that one feels the need to hold on to. Funny how most of them so seemed immaterial now.

In fact, the only thing he did pack into the bag that wasn't his clothes was a photo, slightly dog-eared, but he did this as subtly and quickly as he could, and Lavi never noticed a thing.

The newly dubbed golem Timcanpy tried his (its?) best to help, too; he picked up random items and showed them to Allen, who in turn laughed and told him that he didn't need it, but Timcanpy was most unsuccessful at picking up things bigger than himself, which was most everything. So...he wasn't really much help at all. But all the same, Allen appreciated the gesture, and allowed the golden golem to perch on his head while he went through his own things.

Lavi was much more useless, and kept demanding that they grab the TV, which, he insisted, would fit snuggly into the bag (which of course, it wouldn't), but Allen merely refused him with a smile. Lavi soon gave up and instead took to watching people on the street out of Allen's very small window.

In a little over an hour, Allen's life was packed away in a duffle bag, and they were set to leave.

"Lavi...what exactly do I do with-- er-- Timcanpy?" Allen said, closing the door to the apartment behind them as the two stepped into the narrow hallway. Said golem was currently travelling around the duo's head, quite excited to leave the confines of the apartment.

"Ah, you don't have to worry about him. The living don't look very hard, if you know what I mean," he answered, looking to his partner with his one eye.

As if to illustrate Lavi's point, Timcanpy ducked into the folds of Allen's clothing, nearly invisible now, just as the elevator dinged and let a hurried passenger out.

"See? Smart little bugger, he is," Lavi complimented, but then he stopped in mid-smile. "Oh snap-- Beansprout, what's the time?"

"Allen. And it's eleven twenty-two."

"Oh no..."

"What's wrong?" Allen asked. Lavi and panic did not mix well together. It was...distressing.

"We have to put it in gear if we're gonna make it...C'mon Beansprout--"

"Allen!"

"--we hafta hurry. Spent a little too much time getting your stuff together..." Lavi grabbed Allen's bag and made off down the hallway, the other boy at his heels. "Which is faster? -- stairs or elevator?"

"Stairs, elevator's always been slow, but Lavi--"

"No time to talk, Beanspr-- Allen, have to keep the appointment!" He said.

Reapers, mused Allen, were very devoted to their appointees.

Very soon, they were out of the staircase, having almost tripped down a flight or two, and headed for the exit. Allen noticed as they made their way across the foyer that the bellman had fallen asleep on the job again.

Onto the street Lavi raced, dragging Allen and his things along. They zipped past sales and store fronts, one of which being the electronics store, Allen saw, and caught a glimpse of the un-Allen in the store front windows as they rushed past, but only for a second, and then they were already two stores ahead.

Lavi finally slowed as he approached the park again, panting as they reached their final destination of green trees and dusty paths.

"T...time?" he asked through giant gasps of air.

Allen checked his watch and panted, "Eleven...twenty-six..."

Lavi patted Allen on the back. "Good work, soldier...we made excellent time." He extracted the yellow post-it from his pocket. "Aha!...R. Boone. Do you know any R. Boone's, Beansprout?"

"What...are you talking about, Lavi?" Allen replied, still out of breath. There was a lot of running involved with accompanying the older boy.

"Oh, right..." he said, and collapsed into the bench. "I forgot you're new at this. We're looking for an R. Boone, and he's got to be close. His appointment'll be up in a couple of minutes."

Allen said, "I still don't understand..." and plopped down next to his companion on the bench.

"Well..." Lavi said, finally catching his breath. "You're about to see a reaper at work, my friend. See, we reapers only receive a limited amount of information about our, ah, charges. Makes everything easier-- they don't know you, and you don't know them." Allen looked to Lavi as he spoke-- his face betrayed no emotion other than his typical devil-may-care attitude. "It's less personal that way. We only really get three things-- last name, first initial. Address. And E.T.D."

"E.T.D.?"

"Estimated time of death. And a Mr. R. Boone's gonna bite it in about five minutes."

Allen was surprised at Lavi's lack of seriousness-- the red-head was joking. And smiling.

"How do you know who he--or she-- is if that's all you've got to go on?" Allen asked, still looking to Lavi.

"Ah, that's reaper's intuition. We must be like the fly upon the wall--" Lavi motioned to the whole of the park with his hands, "and observe."

Allen looked at Lavi in a sideways glance and gave a short laugh. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he replied, settling himself back into the seat and sticking his hands into pockets. "We cannot interfere. Or else someone who's supposed to kick the bucket, might not. And that would be bad."

"Why? They would live, wouldn't they?" The newest reaper asked.

"Yes and no. Just keep your eyes peeled, Beansprout." Lavi had avoided the question.

The park was crowded with people now-- if Lavi was to 'do his job', then he had better start asking around for this mysterious R. Boone, but the boy merely slouched on the bench, his head moving from side to side, scanning the crowd. Allen, in the meantime, unaware of what was transpiring, was content to watch the trees sway-- it wasn't everyday he had time to just sit.

Lavi elbowed Allen in the ribs after a fashion, and pointed to a man. "My bet's on him."

The man stood on a ladder, not too high up, pruning branches on a tree.

"Why?"

"Because, Beansprout," he said. "Death has one hell of a sense of humor." The new reaper squinted at his senior, who merely smiled a toothy grin back.

Allen leaned back into the bench with a sigh. He had given up trying to argue with Lavi logically; it was time to follow his lead. "What do you suppose the 'R' stands for, then?"

"Dunno," Lavi laughed and shrugged. "Regal. Or Red. Rob. Robin."

Allen chuckled. "Roger? Or Richard. Re--"

"Rodney!" Came a voice, and Allen and Lavi exchanged a look of surprise and both sat up a little straighter in their seats. "Rodney, you jackass! Get back here with my bike!"

"Nope!" smiled a short-haired boy straddling a shiny red bike. He looked older than Lavi, perhaps twenty-something. 'Rodney' was speeding through the crowds of people (un-helmeted), talking over his shoulder to another boy who was chasing him-- the one who had yelled. "It's alllll mine!"

"Right," Lavi suddenly leapt to his feet, "this job's all intuition, Beansprout."

The boy sped nearer on his bike, laughing through streams of people, and Allen watched Lavi with curiosity as he tapped the boy lightly on the shoulder just as he sped by. Allen could almost see the nebulous wisp of an after-image on Rodney's shoulder as Lavi took his hand away. He had been marked by Death, and Allen knew it.

The boy, however, was quite unaware that he was about to die. He took almost no notice of the two reapers other than to shoot them a quick sideways glance, and then he was speeding down the path again, his panting friend running after him.

"And that is how you do it-- find your charge. Take his soul. And watch," Lavi said, and followed the kid on his bike with his single eye. There was something indiscernible in it as he watched, but Allen was preoccupied.

He stared at Lavi, his mouth agape, the fury rising in his undead heart. This was wrong. This was so wrong. His words came out like poison, and betrayed nothing of the hot anger coursing through his veins. "...Just like that? You touch him and he dies?"

"Yep. And then we wait."

"You just...sit here and wait for him to die?" Now his hands were shaking from rage, or perhaps something else, but he looked Lavi right in his emerald eye, his voice still quiet.

"Well...we have to stick around for the soul," Lavi shrugged, and he showed no sign of noticing Allen's obvious anger.

He glared at Lavi-- that's not what he meant and he knew it-- but he only smiled back in his toothy way, which only made Allen angrier. He opened his mouth to argue, to yell, to tell Lavi that he was heartless and that this was wrong, but was cut off by the resounding crack from the tree where the man upon the ladder was pruning.

And Allen was brought back for a terrifying second to the scene of his own untimely demise, and the crack of the branch became the crashing of a dinosaur's skull down steep steps, but then the man shouted "Watch out!", tearing Allen from his thoughts, just as the branch toppled into the dirt path and right into the oncoming biker's way...

Allen shut his eyes tight, his anger forgotten, and now a thing of the past. He knew what would happen. The branch would come down on the boy as he rode carelessly on the bike, and then he would--

There was a quiet screech of bicycle tires and the gasping of voices and another voice who shouted "Whoa!", and then...nothing.

Allen opened his eyes. The boy's bike was splayed out, crushed under the weight of the fallen tree branch, but where was he? Allen stood up from the bench, looking around for the boy, while Lavi followed his lead, though his disposition was much different; Allen's was anxious. Lavi's was quite unconcerned.

There was a cough, and the boy rose, his brown hair disheveled, and his arms bore a few scuffs, but he was very much alive. His friend all but plowed into him with relief. The man, with his construction hard-hat on, came running up, too, asking, "Are you alright?" To which the boy replied, stunned, "Yeah...yeah, I'm fine."

"Hmm. That's strange," Lavi checked the post-it. "He's supposed to die. I'm sure of it."

Allen sighed, relieved, and collapsed into the bench again. He smiled; happy for the boy who lived where he did not. "Maybe it's not his time."

Lavi checked Allen's watch and grinned. "You're right...it's only eleven twenty-nine."

Allen did not hear him. Instead, he followed the boy whose name was on Death's to-do list as he brushed himself off and pried his bike out from underneath the thick branch. It was only slightly wonky and dented.

Still quite dazed, the boy mounted his bike again, despite protest from the crowd, which he shrugged off. Off he went down the path again, followed closely by his friend.

"He's alive..." Allen smiled suddenly, glad for Rodney and his bike. But Lavi shook his head.

"Not for long," Allen looked to Lavi and the redhead motioned to the biker. "Watch an' learn, Beansprout. Nobody gets past Death once their name's made it on a post-it."

Rodney still trucked along on the path, closely followed by his friend.

Until a stray Frisbee came his way. And promptly knocked him sideways off his mount.

Allen gaped. He wasn't close enough, but if he had been, he would have heard the dull thud as the boy's skull hit the pavement. Rodney did not move again.

"I think it was all that trauma to the head, actually," said Lavi, standing on his tip-toes to see over the gathering crowd again, "that did 'im in."

Allen sat stunned. If that boy had just slowed down, or worn a helmet...he would've lived.

"Aaaah...at least he's not a bleeder," mumbled Lavi.

Anger once again shot through Allen like ice. "Do you get off killing people?" He rounded on Lavi, who looked faintly surprised. "Snuffing out their lives, killing them, and then watching them--?"

"We don't kill them," Lavi said icily, and Allen took a step back from the intensity in his voice. "That's not our job. If we didn't do our job...well, the Akuma would do much worse."

Allen stopped, furrowing his brow. "Akuma?"

"Machines. Weapons. Sometimes you'll catch a glimpse of one out of the corner of your eye when an accident happens--that is, someone dies-- but just in passing. Of course, only we would be able to see them," he looked to Allen. "The Akuma live for us to slip up and get their hands on a soul."

"You can't possibly tell me that you're doing these people a favor--?!"

"It is what it is, Beansprout."

"What is that supposed to mea--?"

"Dude!" Rodney cut in before Allen could finish, appearing out of nowhere, his face pale and see-through in the afternoon sunshine. He craned to get a better view over the crowd now surrounding his body. "Who died?"

"You, I'm afraid," Lavi said with a sigh. "C'mon, dude--, you and I have some very pretty bright lights to find. Beansprout, I'll meet you at the Kitchen-- you know the way, don't you?"

Allen nodded sourly.

Lavi waved his goodbye cheerfully despite Allen's attitude, and, guiding the hapless dead boy's soul along (who spat "This sucks!" as he was dragged away), walked away from the park and Allen.

He heard the words, "Hey...nice boy like yourself got a nice place to stay, don't ya?" before Lavi was out of sight (but hardly out of mind).

And so he was on his own.

Allen was utterly alone for the first time since his death. And he didn't even know what to do with himself. He looked down a ways at the dirt path, where the body of poor Rodney lay. Sirens blared in the distance, and suddenly Allen didn't want to stick around any more-- especially not for the clean-up crew.

So he let his undead feet carry him away.

The tip-tap of his feet hitting the now dark gray concrete of the sidewalk brought a kind of tempo to his wondering; a metronome.

Throngs of people poured out of buildings; it was lunch time for them, going about business as usual.

Twenty-four hours ago, Allen himself would be in his school's cafeteria, munching on his home-made lunch, cramming for some test that he had forgotten about.

But he wasn't. All because of a dinosaur.

His feet walked; his brain wondered elsewhere.

How am I going to do this?

This wasn't what he wanted to be. This wasn't how it was supposed to turn out. If he did this-- if he took souls, if he killed these people...what would that make him? He was the Grim Reaper, and everyone whom he touched was doomed to die. He wasn't allowed to live his life, but instead took the lives of others.

Irony seemed to have a penchant for biting him in the ass.

It was then Allen realized that he had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and that he had absolutely no idea where he was.

--End. Four.--

Ending Note: Next chapter should be the introduction of two more characters. Hopefully I'll do them justice. I'll have lots of typing to do until then. Thanks for reading and reveiwing.