A Sunny Day in Death City


Alexa woke early, dressed quickly and quietly left her room. She walked barefooted to the kitchen and, as quietly as she could, began making breakfast. It had been a few days since their last mission, but Roland was still recovering and needed the extra rest.

She sighed. The past days had been upsetting. When Roland went unconscious during their mission in Ireland, Alexa was afraid he wouldn't make it back to the academy. But somehow he had survived the ride back on the private jet Lord Death had sent them when Isabelle called for help. By the time they arrived back in Death City he had regained consciousness, and despite being in great pain had managed to walk unassisted to the Dispensary where Stein examined his wounds. He had been the only one of the group seriously injured; Isabelle returning with a few minor cuts and Jackson with two cracked ribs, while Kyla had miraculously come away from the battle unscathed. Sid had come to the Dispensary to tell them that they were being given the rest of the week off before sending them all home to get some rest after their ordeal.

Alexa heard a door close, turning to look down the hallway where their rooms were but seeing no one. She had finished making their pancakes, so she walked over to investigate.

"Roland?"

She peaked into his room, finding it empty. Where did he go? Worried, she rushed to the end of the hall, pushing open the door to the bathroom.

Roland was standing in front of the sink, examining his reflection. He was shirtless, revealing the stark white bandages that were wound tightly around his lean chest and wounded left shoulder. She averted her eyes, the image of the gruesome burn the bandages hid flashing to her mind.

"Hey." He had turned to face her, hands in his pockets, eyes cloudy.

"I made some breakfast." She gave him a lighthearted smile to hide her discomfort.

"Thanks. Let me put a shirt on and I'll be right there." Roland brushed past her as he headed back towards his room.

She left the bathroom for the kitchen, serving herself a small stack of pancakes and sitting at the table. It's not my fault. It's not like I could've done anything on my own to protect him. Especially against an enemy like that. A shiver ran down her spine at the memory of the Knight. Alexa had no delusions of grandeur, but she knew that Roland was by no means a weak Meister. Nor were Isabelle and Kyla. She had no doubt that, working together, they would've been able to at least challenge the witch who had been present.

But the Knight was something beyond strong. He had thrown them aside like limp sacks of flour, besting all three of them in mere seconds. What else could she have expected from an enemy so powerful he could char flesh with only his wavelength?

Roland emerged from his room wearing his signature olive green Shinigami shirt, serving himself a helping of pancakes before sitting across from his partner. They ate in silence.

Alexa didn't bother to ask how he was feeling. It seemed a pointless exercise. Stein had already warned them that he would suffer from some degree of constant pain for at least a month, but likely longer. She stabbed angrily at her pancakes. The fact that she had practically rolled belly up when her Meister was incapacitated while Jackson had actually taken some initiative and attacked the Knight himself, the results of that attack non-withstanding, made the scarlet headed Demon Sword feel rather impotent. Roland could always rely on his wavelength attacks when she wasn't around, but if she wasn't in the hands of her Meister she was about as dangerous a mewling kitten.

When they finished, they washed the dishes side by side. Roland broke the silence.

"So. What do you want to do today?"

Alexa shrugged absentmindedly. With no school her options seemed limitless. She could always rely on the small mountain of make up work she still had from their month long mission frenzy to occupy her, but then again the prospect of spending a sunny day bent over a textbook didn't hold that much appeal. Running a hand through her short scarlet hair, it dawned on her. There, hanging limply by the door, was Roland's badly torn trench coat.

"I think I'll go shopping."

She hid her grin as Roland heaved a sigh and delivered the response she'd expected. "I guess I'll just go to the library and do homework then."

Alexa shot him a saccharine smile as she left for her room, practically skipping. "I'm gonna kick your ass if you don't spend some time outside. It's a beautiful day."


Kyla was not partial to books. Under normal circumstances Saturday would find Kyla far from the looming towers of the DWMA, probably trying to sneak into one of the black light dance clubs that filled the desert city with their synthesized beats.

But these were not normal circumstances.

Her violet eyes roamed hungrily over the imposing book shelf that loomed before her. Despite the scholarly atmosphere that pervaded the sprawling library, Kyla felt her pulse quicken in anticipation. She was some great jungle cat, and somewhere in this forest of processed wood mulch lay her prey, shivering in its forsaken corner at the thought that it was being hunted.

Hunting books was a more fitting challenge than tending to Shinigami's hit list. Books had no souls and thus leveled the playing field, bringing Kyla onto the same footing as any person who wondered in from the street with the same objective. She could only rely on her tenacity and gut instinct to win the day, and that was just how she liked it.

Could she have saved herself the trouble of looking for a book on an obscure topic by asking for assistance from one of the library's countless staff? Without a doubt. She reasoned that dragging her partner to the library would be all the backup she'd need in the unlikely event that she needed any. But where was the fun in that?

Smirking, she struck out into the winding canyons of musky tomes.

The monsters at the wind mill were the first piece of the puzzle. But it would also be the easiest to place, the library had many volumes devoted to the documenting of the world's countless varieties of monsters.

The second piece was the witch. Shibusen prided itself on cataloging not only the witches it destroyed, but also those who were currently active and embroiled in malicious debauchery. If any DWMA student or Shibusen operative had previously encountered the witch and lived to tell the tale, the incident would be put on record and made available for study. And witches tended to lead long lives, so the odds of finding her among the yellowing reports seemed good.

It was the Knight who posed the greatest challenge. Despite the fact that she had seen his soul in some degree of detail, the Hoop Meister still had only a sparse amount of knowledge to base her search off of. She doubted his distinct physical appearance would get her anywhere. If anything could lead her to the information she wanted, it would be his soul. Kyla knew that Shibusen would probably have prior knowledge of anything with such a powerful and abominable essence, it was a matter of security.

It could only be a matter of time before she got her answers. Because, unlike the unlucky inhabitants of Shinigami's list she normally hunted, these books weren't going anywhere. And for the rest of the day, neither was she.


Isabelle and Jackson lived in a modest house on the outskirts of Death City. Two stories tall with pleasant adobe walls and a red tile roof, it had been a hesitantly accepted gift from Isabelle's wealthy, if estranged, parents. This sunny Saturday found the house's two inhabitants on its first floor, in the room Isabelle had converted into a small at home gym. The occasional grunt and curse drifted through the open door and into the hall.

"Give it a rest Isabelle. You're gonna pull something."

The punching bag shuddered as Isabelle sent two quick jabs into the stomach of her imaginary opponent.

"Just because Sid gave us the week off doesn't mean we can neglect our training." Another punch. "If we do, anything we learned during the last mission will go to waste."

Jackson rolled his eyes as he held the bag in place to receive his Meister's fists. "I get that. What I don't get is why you think being good in a fist fight is gonna do you any favors the next time we meet the Knight."

He staggered as she forced the bag sideways with an unexpected kick.

"The next time I get disarmed Roland might not be there to help. I have to be prepared for when that time comes."

"If you wanna punch that guy's armor, be my guest. Sonya couldn't get through it, I couldn't get through it, and when Roland's wavelength got through it didn't do shit." The bag heaved with another punch. "We should be working on Fimbulvinter. If anything's getting through that armor it's gonna be a resonance attack."

Isabelle paused, resting her open hands against the gently swaying red bag. For a few moments only her breathing punctuated the silence that filled the training room. "I don't think it makes a difference if he can just force you out of weapon form with his wavelength."

"Don't say that like I thought it was a good idea to freeze us together! You know what your problem is?" He leaned back against the bag, not waiting for an answer. "You're reckless. Whenever you fight you let your emotions take over, and that's when you screw up."

Jackson's observation was of course correct, and Isabelle knew it. No matter how composed she was outside of battle, as soon as the chips were down she was a loose cannon. But she didn't know a better way. Fury and instinct drowned out fear. What more could she ask for?

Silence. Jackson peaked around the punching bag, cocking an eyebrow. His Meister was staring with single minded intensity at the bag, no doubt contemplating a more creative way to inflict pain on the inanimate object. Blood wept freely from her knuckles, the result of the three hours she'd already spent punishing the unfortunate punching bag.

"You need to learn how to control yourself Isabelle." He grabbed her shoulders, shaking her gently to get her attention. "All this anger is going to tear you apart if you don't get a handle on it."

Her eyes refused to meet his, voice a whisper. "I know." She stepped out of his grasp, turning away as her bloody fists uncoiled. "I think that's enough training for today."

The moment of vulnerability was gone. Jackson sighed. "All right."


Sonya listlessly ran her fingers over the spine of a dusty book, giving a little sigh.

This is such a drag. She couldn't believe that Kyla had dragged her to the school library on a Saturday of all days. The list of other things they could be doing wasn't a long one, but any of them seemed better than sitting around the library while her Meister searched for god knows what. The worst part was that Kyla was excluding her from the effort, leaving the Demon Hoop to combat the suffocating boredom by her lonesome.

With a huff she pulled the book from its place on the shelf, storming down the aisle with a scowl. Dozing in one of the library's plush armchairs was no longer a suitable pastime, she needed something, anything, to keep herself occupied. Stomping around the corner, she froze.

Oh shit.

She was back behind the towering bookshelf in an instant, heart hammering against the book clenched to her chest. Holding her breath, she poked her head out from her hiding place. There he was, leaning back in a chair with a book in his lap at one of the countless reading tables scattered around the library. Retreating, she took a moment to level her breathing. Now what?

"Just go talk to him."

Sonya jumped, clamping a hand over her mouth to stifle a squeal of surprise as her Meister appeared at her side.

"T-talk to him? Are you crazy?" Kyla cocked an incredulous eyebrow at the Demon Hoop as she sputtered. "What if his partner is around? She looked like she wanted to rip my head off for saying hi to him!"

"She's not here."

Sonya blinked. "What?"

Kyla shrugged, turning to walk away. "You heard me. She's not here." She shot her Weapon a smirk over her shoulder. "If you're home for dinner tonight, I'm going to be seriously disappointed in you."

Sonya swallowed hard as her Meister disappeared into the winding depths of the library. Well... what's the worst that could happen?

As casually as she could Sonya stepped out from behind the bookshelf, book still clasped to her chest. She let her eyes wander to the upper most reaches of the library as her feet carried her ever closer to the table where Roland read. Just make it look like an accident.

She let herself walk past him, like she was going somewhere else, before feigning a double take.

"Roland?"

Something in her chest fluttered as his caramel brown eyes rose to meet hers.

"Oh, hello Sonya."

Not exactly enthusiastic, but it's a start.

"What are you doing here on a Saturday?" She questioned, cocking her head to the side and giving him a puzzled look.

A small sigh. "Homework."

"Hey, me to!" She lied, noticing the empty chair across from him. "Is this seat taken?"

He shook his head, eyes returning to his book. She sat, waiting a few moments for the conversation to resume. It didn't.

With a huff she sank into her seat, opening the book she was supposedly using for homework, to her great chagrin finding that it was an old DWMA yearbook.

Smooth Sonya.

She flipped the pages of the dusty yearbook absentmindedly, stealing furtive glances at Roland as he quietly read, seemingly oblivious to her presence.

An hour passed in this manner. Despite the momentary entertainment provided by a picture of Stein in his youth, soul crushing boredom had set in.

Then Roland noticed what she was reading.

"Hey Sonya." Her eyes snapped up.

"What?"

"Are you reading a yearbook?"

She flushed, fiddling with a corner of the page she was on. "Um...yeah."

He rose, circling the table to stand by her side. Her cheeks reddened as he reached over her shoulder, gently brushing her hand aside so he could turn the page. Sonya didn't pay the book any mind as he flipped the pages, suddenly overwhelmed at his proximity. Making every conscious effort to be as inconspicuous as possible, she tilted her head ever so slightly to rest it against his arm. She gave a small smile when he did not recoil at her touch.

"Here." She watched his index finger skim along a row of portraits, coming to rest on one of a girl with sandy brown hair.

"Who's that?"

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

"That's my mother."

"She's pretty." Sonya noted.

With a chuckle Roland withdrew his hand, taking a moment to crack his back and look at the clock that hung on the wall.

"Well Sonya, it's been great, but I should get going."

She jumped a little as he circled to his chair.

"W-wait!" She shot out of her seat, only to fidget uncomfortably with the hem of her powder blue hoodie when she found she had his undivided attention.

"I was, um... wondering if you wanted to... you know..." He obviously didn't. "Get something to eat...or something..." Her teal eyes sunk to her feet. "With me..."

Silence. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire.

"Sure."

She blinked, looking up at him.

"What?"

"Sure." He gave her a warm smile. "Let's go."


Sid scratched his head, appraising the weathered scrolls spread on the desk before him. Intelligence analysis was never my thing. With a sigh, he delicately ran a blue hand over the surface of one of the scrolls, cringing as it crinkled noisily at his touch. It's just not the kind of man I was. His chair creaked in protest as he settled in it, eyes skimming the contents of the scroll at the top of the stack. He pulled a small legal pad from a drawer in his desk, scribbling notes on it with a black ball point pen as his eyes darted back and forth between the scroll and the notepad.

It was the drawings that first caught his attention. A plate glove bearing a lemniscate, a hexagon with a strange stylized eye on it, and an inky human silhouette. Grumbling, the zombie quickly sketched the illustrations on the notepad before moving onto the text that crowded around the pictures. Sid knew little witchspeak, but the few words he could decipher were copied onto the notepad below the drawings, his stomach sinking with each he penned.

Magic Tool... Eibon... Madness... Asura...

His pen came to a sudden halt.

"What the hell...?" He blinked, as if confirming that what he saw was really there.

Numbers. Hundreds, maybe thousands of numbers.

Now Sid's misgivings were confirmed. The anxiety that had gnawed at the edges of his mind ever since Kyla had delivered the armful of scrolls to him when she and the others had returned from Ireland was now justified.

Arithmetic Magic.

"I told him I had a bad feeling about this..."


"You left it behind...?"

The witch trembled at the venomous tone, the buckles of her countless belts jingling slightly as she shifted from one foot to the other in discomfort.

"W-w-w-well you see, he t-t-told me to take as much as I could carry and leave the rest." She took a shuddering breath. "I w-would have made a second trip to get the rest, but with the Shibusen students around we had to leave in a-"

A pale hand coiled around the witch's throat, lifting her off her feet and slamming her into the cold stone wall. She was left to cough and claw helplessly at the hand at her neck while her assailant hissed at her through clenched teeth.

"You're telling me you abandoned it because of three One-Star student Meisters?" The hand tightened, slowly crushing the witch's windpipe. "Do you understand what you've done? If Shibusen translates those documents they will be free to interfere with our plan!" The witch gasped for air in vain. "I should kill you for this transgression."

"We still need her." A metallic voice reminded.

Silence.

The witch slid down the wall, crumpling into a coughing heap at her assailant's feet as she fought for air.

"Be glad you are more difficult to replace than the documents you lost to Shibusen, Mongoose Witch Lila." A robe rustled in the darkness. "Now begone. You've work to do."

Still gasping, Lila staggered to her feet, mouthing a silent thank you to the Knight as she fled the room.

Steel plates rasped against each other as he crossed his arms over his armored chest.

"You've nothing to fear from Shibusen and their ilk. By the time they realize the gravity of their situation it will be too late."

A dark chuckle. "Too many have held similar beliefs and fallen to Death's blade. I will not make the same mistakes as so many of my sisters."

Pale fingers caressed the Knight's ebony cuirass. "The others don't understand. They are slaves to their instincts, sowing destruction haphazardly and without thought. In the end they are all fodder for Death's Weapons. For each of us that falls a Death Scythe is destined to rise and slay more of my sisters. Our kind is steadily losing the struggle against the Shinigami."

The hand recoiled as its owner turned away from the Knight.

"This cannot stand. There must be a reversal or in a millennium's time we will vanish from the earth." Even the Knight's blood ran cold. "Or become chattel, bred and slaughtered to feed Death's war machine. Death will always need new Death Scythes, and so he will always need new witches. I will not be content to terrorize villages in a Third World country while my sisters march towards bondage."

The Knight bowed his helmeted head. "For freedom, my blade is forever yours."

"It's good to know that I have someone I can rely on. Return to your duties Knight."

Dark cape billowing, he turned to leave.

"Very well, Lady Raena."


He's gonna think I'm an airhead if I keep smiling like this.

But she couldn't help it. It had taken her a week to screw up the courage to talk to him, and now they were finally out on what might be construed by a casual passerby to be a date. Though she was fairly certain that Roland didn't consider it one, she was happy to have him to herself for awhile anyway.

After leaving the Library, they had wandered aimlessly through the cobblestone streets of Death City looking for a place to eat. Sonya probably could've found them a decent eatery in a fraction of the time it ended up taking them, but letting Roland lead her down the winding paths of stone was just another way to prolong their evening together.

Eventually they found a quaint little restaurant nestled at the foot of the great wall that encircled the city, where they enjoyed steaming Chinese food at a table for two overlooking a vibrant koi pond. The paper lantern that hung over their table bathed them both in its gentle rosy glow as they spoke in hushed tones.

"So where are you from?"

"Um..." She chased a slippery dumpling around her plate with her chopsticks. How the hell to I use these things? "Vancouver Island."

"Near the Strait of Juan de Fuca?"

"It's actually Juan de Fuca Strait." With a muttered curse she impaled the tenacious dumpling, grinning triumphantly for a moment before she saw that Roland was looking at her with a bemused smile. She froze, hoping the dull red light of the paper lantern would disguise her darkening cheeks. "Uh..." Real smooth Sonya, I'm sure he's really into Canadian chicks who play with their food. "That's what we call it in Canada."

"I've read that there are a lot of shipwrecks in that area." He said, steepling his fingers.

"Yeah, my grandpa used to tell me about them when I was a little kid."

"Your grandfather was a sailor?"

She shook her head. "Nope, a lighthouse keeper."

Roland nodded appreciatively. "That's quite the profession."

Sonya turned her attention back to her food, slightly flushed from the compliment. Jeez, why am I blushing? He complimented my grandpa for shit's sake!

By the time they payed the bill and left, night had fallen. They took their time walking back towards the heart of the city, watching shop keepers and street vendors adorn their carts and storefronts with festive lights and banners in preparation for Shibusen's upcoming anniversary. Stars twinkled behind the cackling crescent moon, but their light was lost among the gaudy pastel glow of paper lanterns that filled the air.

Roland stole a glance at Sonya, who walked close by his side, teal eyes wide with childish awe as she took in the lights of a city preparing for celebration. He had not thought himself a man prone to stomach butterflies, but there was no doubt that he now had them, or that this brown haired girl who only came up to his shoulder was the cause.

They were not wholly unpleasant, but in combination with the ache of his burn they left him feeling slightly nauseous.

Would it be inappropriate for us to hold hands?

The Shibusen Girl's Dorm rose before them, and Sonya turned to face Roland with a warm smile.

"Thanks for dinner. I had a good time."

"Me to." He scratched his head. "We should do it again some time."

"Yeah, we should." Her smile widened. Roland was fairly sure that all this girl did was smile and blush. "Soon?"

And he didn't mind one bit.

"Soon."

Neither of them saw a certain scarlet headed Demon Weapon slip around the corner a block away.


Alexa made sure to slam the door behind her as she stormed into the apartment. She stomped across the study, down the hall, and into her room. The plastic shopping bag she held in her hand trembled, her knuckles white. That bitch! With a snarl and a dull thud the shopping bag hit the far wall of her room, falling into a deflated heap on the floor. She stood, fuming, in the center of her room, eyes darting here and there to find another inanimate object to vent her frustrations on.

She had only seen them in passing, but that had been enough. He had been with another Weapon. Alone. And even worse, that other Weapon had been an attractive girl. To say that Alexa was pissed would've been an understatement.

Aren't I good enough?

Sure, she wasn't as exotic and nimble as Sonya or as strong as Jackson, but she had her own strengths.

None of which came to mind at the moment.

She heard the door open and close, announcing Roland's arrival.

Her anger began to fizzle as the realization hit her. She wasn't especially fast or powerful, she could barely fight on her own. She didn't even have a resonance technique.

She sized herself up in the full length mirror that hung on her bedroom door. Her looks could turn heads when she walked the halls of the DWMA, but what did appearances matter if she was an impotent Weapon? If her Meister got hurt and started looking at other Weapons?

She grimaced. No wonder he doesn't pay any attention to me, my hair makes me look like a boy.

The gentle rap of knuckles against her door. "Are you in there Alexa?"

"What do you want?" The response was harsher than she would've liked.

"I just wanted to make sure you were here." A pause.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She lied. "I'm fine."

"All right. Good night Alexa."

Shuffling footsteps and the creak of an opening door. Roland was in his room.

The Demon Sword looked at her reflection for a few more seconds before turning away, shoulders slumping. Nope. I'm just average.