Chapter Two

Day One || 15:08 || Shibuya Scramble Crossing

Owen could hardly feel his limbs. His right arm was crushed under the weight of the girl he had just tackled, as well as his leg. Even worse, she seemed to have been knocked unconscious, or was otherwise refusing to get up. Dammit, he cursed himself internally. This is what you got for playing the hero. You get the girl out of the way of danger, only for her to drag you both down. And yet, it hadn't even occurred to him at the time to continue without doing anything. The moment he'd seen her about to get erased, he had automatically rushed to her aid. Like a damn knight in shining armor. It's a miracle I didn't die from a stunt like this instead, he thought darkly as he shifted, pulling his arm painfully from under the girl. "Hey! Come on, get up!" He demanded, his voice shaking from both exertion and fear, plain and simple. The frog was still there, and if they waited too long they would both be goners. "Come on!" He shoved her over, rolling the girl off of his leg. She blinked dizzily, and began to sit up with a confused expression.

On one hand, this was good. She was conscious. On the other, she was taking far too long to recover. He could already see the frog preparing for another leap. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the girl by the arm and began dragging her to her feet. "We've got to go, now!" he shouted, beginning to run before she was even steady on her feet. While she stumbled for a little after him, she quickly matched his stride, something that surprised him a little. She had looked to be at least half a head shorter than him, if not more. Had he miscalculated, or was she just in better shape than he? Not that it would be hard, what with his scrawny build that came from a fast metabolism rather than actual workout. Wait, why was he thinking about stuff like this?

Snapping back to reality, he noticed uncomfortably that the crowd around them had thinned considerably since the Noise had been unleashed. While it made for easier travel towards the 104, it also made the entire thing even eerier. So many people have already been erased…

It was then that he became aware of the sheer number of Noise around them. Jolting to a stop, he stared in terrified awe of the wall of frogs that had converged between them and the way to the 104. They must have erased all of the other players around, he found himself thinking. A sound from behind was enough to make him turn around, only to find even more behind. To his dismay, he saw that they had been completely surrounded. The girl seemed to have realized the same thing, because the grip on his hand became much harder. Painful, even. She had moved closer, and was watching the frogs with a strange combination of fear and resentment. Like a child looking at someone who had just broken their favorite toy for kicks.

The frogs moved closer, and he turned to face them a little uselessly. Just because he could see them didn't mean he could do a thing about the inevitable attack. He was a powerless Player; without a partner, he could do nothing to defend himself against them.

A partner…

It occurred to him that he had one chance at survival, and she was standing right next to him. But will she be able to help me through the rest of it, too?

A frog leapt, and he only just dodged out of the way in time. Swearing vehemently, he opened his mouth with reluctance. "You! Make a pact with me!"

"E-eh?" The girl looked at him, bewildered. He felt his heart sink. It was important to have a good partner, or he'd never make it through the week. But if he didn't get a partner now, he wouldn't make it through the next five minutes.

"I said," he began impatiently. Understanding dawned on the girl, and she replied before he could finish.

"I accept!"

The world dissolved into a shower of light.

Owen was never quite sure what happened after that. He vaguely recalled the lights fading, and a new awareness about him. A knowledge of how to fight back, for example. He remembered taking out a pin and striking the frogs with lightning through it, directing the electricity to ricochet from one to another. The frogs were erased with surprising ease. It became quickly apparent that the Reapers had summoned only the weakest of Noise to eliminate as many Players as possible. All that time, they had been running from mere mooks. What made the thought worse was the fact that the lowest of the low could still destroy a partner-less Player with no trouble at all.

During the fight, he remembered a high, piercing sound from nearby, but that too ended when the last frog went down in a burst of electricity. Breathing heavily, he turned to about where the girl should have been only to glimpse her putting something away into her bag. Her fearful expression had been replaced by one of confidence, mixed in with something else – happiness, maybe? He could hardly see what about the situation would please her, but it was certain that something did. When she noticed his look, she waved cheerily at him, trotting over as if they had just met up rather than fought off a bunch of freaky death frogs.

"Wow, that was scary! I thought I was going to get erased!" Her tone somehow made everything sound so much less serious. Like it was a video game, and he had just saved her from a pack of NPC'd monsters that threatened to kill her character. Like she hadn't been in mortal danger at all.

"We almost were," he reminded her a little coldly. "If we hadn't made a pact, we'd both be Noise food."

"Yeah. But now we're partners, so we don't have to worry about that anymore. I saw you fighting; you're really good!" she looked at him with honest admiration. Funny, I don't remember seeing you fight at all, he thought, annoyed.

"We might be partners, but we still have to make it through the rest of the week," he admonished. "We'll probably have to rely on each other a lot the entire time." Meaning you need to do your part, too, was what he wanted to add, but decided it was probably too rude. She looked eager enough, nodding her head in agreement.

"Don't worry! We'll make it through, definitely!" She smiled widely, and Owen began to see that this was likely her default expression. "You look really smart, and you know how to fight- we have nothing to worry about!"

…Did she not hear the 'rely on each other' part at all? Owen thought incredulously. Before he could reply, she chattered on: "Since we're partners, we have to introduce ourselves, right? I'm Na-" she cut off suddenly, her expression falling slightly. "Um. Shii… Hmmm…" Much to Owen's bewilderment, a thoughtful look came to her face. Did she forget her name? "No, that one won't work… Okay! Just call me Shiiko!" Her expression brightened once more. …No. That definitely sounded more like a lie to me. "My full name's Shibata Shiiko, but just Shiiko's fine. We're partners, after all." She almost looked proud to have come up with such a name. Owen couldn't help but wonder why she had gone through the trouble.

"Well, my name is Owen Daniels. Er, Western order," he corrected himself hastily. "So that would be… Daniels Owen?" Shiiko stared at him blankly. He could almost see her mind connecting the dots, just as everyone else did whenever he introduced himself. It was even faster of a conclusion when he screwed it up as he did just now. Crap.

Sure enough, she began to laugh. It was a soft sort of giggle, but it still made his face burn with embarrassment. To add insult to injury, she put on a serious face and threw her arms out in front of her. "Osu!'

"Not a cheer squad," he said, his face carefully devoid of emotion. "Look, just call me Owen, okay? Or just O if that's easier." Not for the first time, he cursed his parents for giving him such a name.

Shiiko obediently stopped laughing, and began testing the name out. "Ou. Ou-en." He could see her valiantly stifle a giggle. He sighed inwardly, wondering why his name had to be so similar to the Japanese word for "cheer." His parents had been in Japan for some time when he was born, and were fluent in the language; surely they must have known better?

"Hey! O!" Shiiko was trying to get his attention. Feeling more annoyed with every passing second, he tried to arrange his face into a politer expression. "Yes?"

"You're a foreigner, aren't you?" she asked, the excitement audible in her voice. He felt a scowl flicker over his face, but smoothed it over as quickly as he could. "You could say that."

"I thought so," she had a satisfied air about her now. "You're an American, aren't you?"

"…Yes," he admitted. There wasn't much else he could say about it. In fact, he suspected that the only reason she hadn't brought it up right away was out of politeness. With his blonde hair and green eyes, not to mention the pale skin and a horrendous accent, there was no way a person could mistake him for anything else. Aside from British, maybe.

"That's so cool! That means you can speak English, right?" she had clasped her gloved hands together in her enthusiasm, and stared at him with awe. Wondering why this was such a great thing, he nodded hesitantly. "Woooow! Hey, could you speak some right now?"

Great. She's like a little kid, he thought. …Dresses like one, too. Her clothes, now that he paid attention, consisted of a tank top with a grinning face full of triangular teeth, rather like a certain biting cat from an anime he had seen back in the US. Despite the summer heat, she wore a bold purple scarf that matched her long purple gloves. Both had left the fingers and palm uncovered, and featured a simple face embroidered on the back; a smiley face on her right, and a frowning one on her left. A very disturbed-looking cartoon dog served as a messenger bag, and her boots appeared to be not only of rubber, but also feature cutesy pink clouds on a light blue background. Or is that supposed to be naruto? he wondered. No matter how you looked at her, she had to be the class oddball.

"Come oooon! Just a little! Please?" She was giving him the puppy-dog eyes now. Oh, boy.

"Fine. But after this, we need to head to 104, okay?" he said wearily. Switching to English, he said clearly: "I'm speaking English." A simple, no doubt disappointing phrase, but she hadn't specified what he was to say. He then switched back: "There. Is that good enough?"

"Is what good enough?" She looked puzzled.

"What do you mean? What I just said, of course," he said a little impatiently.

"You said you were speaking English. Except, you never did." she said, clearly confused. This caused Owen to be just as perplexed, if not more so. He tried again. "What about now?" She shook her head.

"Still Japanese." She was tilting her head to the side now, looking a little worried. She had seen that something was wrong. Owen hardly noticed, caught in his own private storm of panic. What was going on? Why couldn't he speak English anymore? He remembered learning in his Japanese classes that the part of the brain that dealt with languages could sometimes get them mixed up, since it was all stored in the same area. That was why a person could speak one language without realizing that they had accidentally switched. Could that have been the reason? But he was making a conscious effort to speak English…

"Umm, Owen?" Shiiko looked at him questioningly. Shaking his head, he tried to focus on reality once more. "Yes?"

"It's okay if you don't speak English. I just wanted to hear a real American speak it. You don't have to force yourself." He was a little surprised by her consideration for him. Maybe she wasn't as dumb as he had originally thought. Even if she seems a little useless otherwise.

"No, it's no big deal. I'm not sure what's up… I think I might just be too distracted," he said, knowing full well that wasn't it. But what other excuse was there? "I'll show you later," he added. Once I figure out what's going on,, anyway.

Shiiko nodded, and then looked to the 104. Owen followed suit, and noticed that they were much closer than he had originally thought. When she turned to him, he found she was smiling again. "Then, let's go!" she exclaimed, as if they were going off on a grand adventure instead of walking less than a block to the goal. Then again, if they were in for a week of this, even Owen had to admit that it was a sort of adventure. A very dangerous, morbidly twisted one. But then, weren't most adventures like that?

"…Yeah. Let's go win this." His voice was full of determination. He wouldn't lose. There was no way he could afford it.

Shiiko noticed the change in his voice, and her smile grew. "Then what are we waiting for? Come on!" She grabbed his hand, and Owen found himself being dragged towards the 104. A rather ironic change from earlier. He smiled – it was hard not to, with someone like Shiiko. Her constant grin and excitable behavior were infectious, it seemed. As they went, he couldn't help but throw a last glance around the scramble.

The frogs seemed to have all vanished. No longer were there any screams of pain and confusion. The crowd was definitely smaller than it had been when he first awoke. He became aware that all of the surviving Players were probably the few who had been able to make a pact in the confusion. Those who had failed now failed to exist as well.

Just as he began to feel a chill, he heard an angry shout from nearby. Looking automatically, he spotted a tall, muscular man. In front of him, held by the collar, was a much smaller person wearing a black hoodie. His – or was it her? – face was concealed by the hood. However, the two black, twisted wings that stuck out from the person's back were an obvious enough indicator. Owen stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. A Reaper.

The man seemed to be yelling at the Reaper, his face an expression of fury. Owen did not have to think too hard as to what it must have been about. The Reaper just stood there, and if it made any reply, Owen couldn't hear over the distance. The man finally seemed to become fed up, and drew back his arm as he got ready to punch the Reaper in the face.

It never connected.

Owen watched as the Reaper, with inhuman speed, ducked out of the man's grip and dodged the punch with ease. Before the man could react, the Reaper had him by the collar and was lifting him into the air. It was an odd sight to see, considering the differences in both height and frame. The man must have been just as bewildered, because he said nothing as the Reaper's hood fell and revealed him to be speaking, no doubt coldly to him. When he had finished, the Reaper dropped the man to the ground, turning even as frog noise appeared out of floating marks in the air. Owen heard the man scream just as he was erased.

Just as the Reaper was in the act of pulling up his hood once more, he caught sight of Owen and froze like a deer in headlights. His dark eyes were wide with disbelief. "How?" Read his expression, as clearly as the sun was in the sky.

Owen wondered the very same thing from where he stood. He knew that face. Though his hair was different from when they were young, he had seen the pictures that he had been sent over the Internet. It was unmistakable.

"Masao…?" He breathed, even though there was no way the Reaper could have heard him. The Reaper's expression quickly changed to a worried scowl, and he seemed to come to a decision. Throwing his hood over his face once more, he ran and took off, flying somewhere that Owen undoubtedly would never be able to reach.

"Owen? Hey, Owen!" Shiiko's voice brought him back. He turned to her, blinking rapidly as he tried to make sense of what he had just seen. "Why did you stop? We're almost there." She looked worried for him.

"It's… It's nothing," he lied. He knew that even she must have realized it, but there was no way he could explain the scene he had just witnessed. He wasn't even able to sort it out in his head, much less put it into words. And even if he could understand it, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"How could Masao be…?"

Chapter Two: "Partner & Reaper"

End.