The woman was pale, morbidly so, an appropriate description. Around her neck an over-sized ankh reflected sunshine on its silver face.
"This is for you," she said and handed over a card. 'The Death' imprinted on its front in a similar fashion as the Sakura Cards. It's backing was unfamiliar, the remains of stardust on a backdrop of indigo. It was how the accomplished cardcaptor and young sorceress imagined the end of the universe.
"From Clow?" Sakura asked.
The woman smiled, lowering her sunglasses on her nose bridge to meet her eye-to-eye. Her eyes were dark, abysmal, pretty. Pools of tar in which life drowned. "From me to you. Will you write your name on it?"
"How do you know to trust me - a stranger?"
"Because fifty-three other forces, including my brother's alter form, have already. I merely desire to join the company for my safekeeping."
Puzzled, Sakura only stared emptily into the card's backing, not wanting to face the power she would wield over all that lived once she signed its acceptance. "It's funny."
"What is?" Death inquired.
"I never thought meeting you like this. Thought I'd be angry at you for taking my mother."
The young woman's eery smile faded. "You can be angry, many are, spending their lives cursing my nameday. To them death is always early, never late."
"Are you early today?"
"No, love, today I'm just in time."
The card mistress laughed. "Punctuality has never been my strength."
"And I've never cared for finality, my own especially, even in voluntary retirement," Death admitted. "Some jobs, you're born into. Cosmic fate, bloodlines. A high cost of living."
"It isn't fair."
"In life you gotta play the cards you've been dealt." Death embraced her. "Even the one in your hand."
Six letters are delineated in black ink, in brave permanence:
S-A-K-U-R-A
A/N: Death is from Neil Gaiman's Sandman, and is my favorite Endless. One of her brothers is Dream. I've considered a crossover, but for now bits in here will do.