Author's Note: Last chapter! If you don't mind, I'm going to spend more time on the third installment. It might take longer, it may not. It might be longer, but it could be shorter, for all I know. However, I will try to make it as worth the read as possible—more in-depth. It will definitely answer some questions, and I hope I can get the first chapter to you all soon.

Please, enjoy!

Chapter 9
The Final Day

Uzuki was impressed to find that there were, indeed, two pairs left in the game. She had never even cast the other couple a second glance—a boy and a girl. The girl looked to be in her early twenties, and the boy little more than of age.

However, while they had both survived, unless both happened to fail, Spud and Kazu were the only possible candidates. The other couple fought ferociously apart from each other, as if the other was the source of their issues. Perhaps they were, if they happened to have murdered each other on the Real Ground.

Spud and Kazu, however, were completely reliant, in one way or another, upon their partner. Kariya assumed Spud was the only stable thing keeping Kazu from going absolutely mad. Uzuki suspected that Spud felt responsible exactly due to that.

Granted, Uzuki still despised Spud, but even she could see past that.

The boy and the girl had the mentality of getting to the Game Maker firsthand before the other team, while Spud held his partner back. Kariya seemed to understand exactly what was going through his mind, and was distantly appreciative of that.

So they decided to send high-level Noise after the first couple that went after the Game Master. Their bias was odd, as neither of them liked Spud much. At the same time, however, they acknowledged the fact that he had gotten this far on sheer skill shared with his partner. That was respectable.

They fought silently, but with a great ruckus. The lady had the strongest telekinesis they'd seen yet—throwing things at their Noise with the force of three of her. The boy did a lot of close-range slashing. They were strong alone, which made Uzuki only wonder how much they could do together.

The boy was the first to use a healing pin. It was then that Kariya leaned forward, seriously interested. He seemed particularly interested in the boy's technique. It was the first time that Uzuki found herself acknowledging how apparent it was that Kariya was a technical freak. He liked skill and he enjoyed learning how things were done, so long as he found them initially interesting. She supposed he was actually learning something from all the players.

On the other hand, she wished, as she sat there, that she could've been fighting down there instead. She knew she could win, with Kariya, at least. Sakuraba was one-of-a-kind, and in retrospect, the fact that they were defeated so often was no wonder. Additionally, she did suspect that Kariya hadn't ever really tried. She wouldn't have been surprised, and it made even more sense now, recognizing the fact that he was a watcher. He sat back and watched how things played out—and he could, because he was patient and attentive when he wanted it.

Suddenly, they both went down with a cry, and Kariya leaned away from the scene. She watched as they vanished, then turned to Spud. He was standing under the shade of the far building, hand wrapped around Kazu's wrist to keep him from tearing his hair out. She wanted to see his reaction.

His wasn't all that different. He looked disturbed, then turned about to look at Kariya as he swept the Noise away.

"You gonna fight us?" he called, wary.

Kariya looked like he was considering it, for just a moment. "No," he called back, stood up, and bowed them in the direction of the wall they first needed to get past.

Tally was the Support posted there, and snickered at Kariya's flourish. She shook her head, then spoke quietly, like always, to Spud as he ran up. This time, he had to reach into his wallet.

Uzuki snorted.

"Want to watch?" Kariya asked, hands shoved in his pockets.

"I have no preference. This Game Master is just shabby." She shrugged. He was from the next city over—a step-in until there were enough Reapers to fill in the ranks in Shibuya itself. Uzuki hadn't even seen him. She had seen many a Final Battle, and again, she would much rather be the one fighting it. "But I do have a question."

"Being?" He settled back down to sit next to her. They were at the bus terminal, situated up on the top of a vehicle. They shared a small amount of shade up there, despite the sun beaming garishly off the white top into their eyes. This would have been a time Uzuki would beg for his sunglasses, had he not broken them.

"Were you in any relationships before?" she asked, for a little more than just curiosity's sake.

He pursed his lips, palms flat together as his fingers twiddled and flexed. "Romantically?"

She made a confirmative noise.

"I don't remember anything significant. So yes, but not really." His eyebrows were pinched together, eyes sketching out the cracks in the below pavements.

With a sort of answer like that, she wasn't sure what reaction to come up with.

"You?" he asked. "That's my question. What about you?"

She sighed, knotted her hands together, and moved halfway between a nod and a shrug. "Sort of."

"I see," he said, but if she had looked over, his eyes would have been laughing. "Sounds complicated."

"Well, it wasn't," she told him, "before."

He just looked at her and waited, wondering what 'before' meant, exactly. "He was the one who pushed me."

"Ah."

"It was pretty mutual, and new, and I didn't mind anything, really. But I'm dead now, so... It doesn't matter at all anymore." That all was true—she didn't pine after him. She knew it hadn't been his intention to give her the concussion that would kill her, but such things deadened the butterflies pretty effectively.

Kariya nodded as if he agreed, then pushed off the bus to land on the ground below. He landed on his toes, crouching before straightening, and looking back at her. She eyed the pavement as if it might bite her, but did likewise, anyway. There was a sort of grace to recklessness when you were dead.

She started the walk back to her apartment with Kariya, hating the heat that smothered her skin. It was still early, but Shibuya didn't mind. Out farther in the country with grass and trees that collected shade, being cool on a hot day was more likely.

They both felt the shift in the atmosphere when the game ended. It was subtle, but dramatic at the same time. She recalled her time as a player and how time moved so slowly, yet so urgently. As a Reaper, time just flew.

"Wonder who won?" Kariya muttered, looking back over his shoulder as if he'd find the answer there.

"Wanna place a bet?" Uzuki suggested. "Loser buys ramen."

He grinned and pulled out a lollipop. "Yeah, okay. I'll bet on Spud."

Uzuki had hopes, but she was also fairly sure Kariya would win. The chances of a win or lose were pretty even for both sides, usually, but Spud and his partner were good. They had nothing on Sakuraba, of course, but that whole thing had been messed up.

"The Game Master, then, for me," she said, with more surety in her voice than she felt. It didn't matter much, though. She was just itching for ramen, period. They hadn't dictated a challenge in a while.

"What do you think their decisions will be?" Kariya wondered aloud. He had pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen. He tapped on it, but still listening, then shoved it away into his bag.

Uzuki cocked her head. "Depends on the Composer's mood, right? Sometimes only one is given their life back." She thought back to her position and remembered how she was given the option.

At the time, Kariya had been different. Not very, but he was the one that made being a Reaper look interesting. It was as if he hadn't even been aware that he was the strongest person in the room. His style was slapdash and absent, and to her it looked exciting and powerful. Being smack in the middle of the family, recognition and power seemed to be the most tantalizing thing in the world.

"True," he said absently. She figured she must've demanded his attention and pestered him until he tolerated her. He had been forced to be a more relaxed presence to equal her out. "I—uh, have to go."

She blinked. "What? Why?"

He was already turning around as she stopped and waited for a response. "See you later."

"Wait—Kariya!" She watched him weave back the way they came, then scowled. "Jerk."

The Dead Gods Pad was empty, and Kariya didn't expect any less. If there was one thing that he loved most about Shibuya, it was the peoples' desire to live. Given the choice, they rarely decided upon a life of death. Many didn't understand what being a Reaper entailed, but they seldom even thought to give it a chance. So the fact that there were so little Reapers was something he cherished.

Kariya had visited the Pad often enough that the entertainment there was lost on him and boring. The glass floors had always given him an odd vertigo since he had first stepped into the room, but the neon lights drew his eye. They flickered every once and a while at an inconsistent rate.

"Koki Kariya."

He turned to face the wall behind the foosball table even though voices echoed everywhere in the room. It made listening to music a disorienting experience.

A tall figure was leaning his forearms on the table, and a complete stranger in a familiar way. He was lanky and pointed, his hair over his shoulders in choppy waves. "Nice to see you."

"You're the Conductor?" Kariya hadn't expected any familiar faces. Sakuraba had practically emptied Shibuya of its Reapers by 85%. However, there was something disconcerting about this face that he couldn't place.

"For a short time, yes." The Conductor stood to his full height, which was considerable, but not awkward. "How's life as a Reaper, Kariya?"

"Sometimes, exactly how I expected it," he answered, sliding his hand into his pocket. Where was it? There.

"Has it been worth it?"

Kariya tightened his grip on his iPod, and for a few moments, hardly moved. "I thought so when I made my decision. Nothing has changed."

The Conductor nodded, pale eyes not moving from his face for a moment. "I called you specifically to ask a question you already know the answer to," he said slowly, calmly.

"I don't doubt it."

"Does the rank of officer hold any appeal for you?" It appeared as if all of this was simple courtesy, and yet Kariya's instincts told him it was a test. Despite that, he was still tired of hearing so many different variations of the same question.

"No."