When one writes satire, parody, and for that matter many kinds of high humor, there is a fine line between making clever twists and observations and just making everything ridiculously hard to understand. And even then, there is another line there between making that ridiculous exaggeration funny and simply mussing it up completely as to just piss off readers. Do I think I managed to land on the right side of the line this time?

The short answer is, "No."

The long one is, "NUUUUUUUUUPPPPE!" With my lips making a popping sound at the end as I say it.

Honestly, I planned to have Brandi be a regular Alpha bitch and then flesh out her character later on, which I'm still doing, but I'm taking Alpha bitch a bit too strangely and nonsensically here.

But I'm tired, and lucky enough to even have internet here in China, so here you go. Ronald hangs half naked from a chandelier in this chapter.

Yes, I said that right. Keep reading, silly little readers going "WHAT."

"Here ya go! Your new glasses!"

The very first thing Ronald does a week later, when he is greeting Eve as he is about to take her to the Association headquarters, is smile a flirtatious smile and wave charmingly as is he does this every day, which he probably does. It is something that has become routine, as Eve's inability to create portals between realms has resulted in Ronald being given the duty to be her guide to and from the Association from then on.

It is his second action towards Eve that draws more of her attention, however, which is slip out a black rectangular container from nowhere and press it into the girl's hand before she could protest against being touched. "Well, not new, per se, I guess." He semi-corrects himself. "You still have newbie frames- but the lenses were replaced, since you're the first reaper- ah, person ever to have perfect vision. Ever. I think what happens is that you can customize the frame when you pass your exam like always, but you have to keep the same kind of lenses."

To clarify what the blond is talking about, Eve swings the lid on its hinges and carefully lifts her pair of spectacles out. As Ronald had said, the frame is identical to what every other trainee has; a dull, watered down grey in color, round in shape about the eyepieces, and fitted with weak and flimsy stems, but the glass pieces that compose the lenses themselves are not cracked or worn in the slightest. In fact, they are completely flat, and in pristine condition, not cracked or muddied at all.

The lenses are, however, tinted a peculiar color…

"Go ahead, try them on." Ronald coaxes her, shoving his now empty gloved hands in his pockets. "You'll have to wear it twenty-four seven from here on out anyways. At least when you're on the clock."

Eve does so, putting the surprising heavy glasses on. Even though her vision is not warped in the slightest, she still blinks to adjust to the change. "May I ask why they are green?" She asks, pointing out the unorthodox shading of the glass.

"You know about cinematic records, right?"

Recalling the information from the lecture from yesterday and the books she had read, Eve answers, "Yes."

"Well, taking to account that your eyes are different than ours, you have to wear the glasses to see the records. I think the green tint's some kind of filter… so, how's it like?"

"What, wearing the glasses?"

"Well, yeah."

She gives the most obvious answer. "It is green. Everything is green." Although her entire surroundings haven't exactly turned into an emerald city, there is a lime tint to everything she looks at. Eve is still blinking owlishly.

Chuckling good-naturedly, Ronald walks around Eve so he is in front of her, regarding her newly-spectacled face. He smiles a winning smile, white pearls shining in a scarce ray of London sunshine, apparently pleased with what he sees, for… whatever reason. "Your eyes look more like ours too. Well, sorta. They're green-yellowish, but all around. It's enough that you don't have to worry about standing out too much. They're really cool, you look fine."

"…" Uncomforted by the close contact, Eve averts her eyes. "Is that so?" She says under her breath. "Well, then, let us move on quickly, please. We have wasted enough time and it will not do for us to be late."

…..

"By the way, I am perfectly capable of finding the classroom now, so from now on you will not need to walk me there."

"Got it! By the way, come to the upper library after class. I should have your room key, then."

"That will be fine."

…..

"Excuse me, Mr. Spears?" The flavor of Brandi La Fenza's words is sugar sweet, as she smiles prettily at her superior, who is sitting in his usual spot behind his walnut desk where he is in the habit of completely paperwork as he always does for a few minutes before lessons always start. Brandi has already picked up the routine during her first week of lessons, and she intends to use it to her advantage. After all, she should not have to wait until the end of the academy day for academic help, did she? That would be nonsensical.

Her superior glances upwards from his work. He must be filling out overtime pay requests, as per usual. "Miss La Fenza." He greets in his constant, curt, way of his. "Do you have a question?"

"Yes, actually." The blonde inclines her head in a nod of respect. "I was wondering about the grade I received on that essay we wrote yesterday. You see, I'm not entirely satisfied with it and- hn?"

"Got it! By the way, come to the upper library after class. I should have your room key, then."

Who is that? Craning her neck, Brandi can see… a guy. A really hot one, with swirling two-tone hair and a cute smile, too. He isn't one of the trainees, so what is he doing here?

And with him is- oh, Miss Brittford… the one who does not know how to use a pen. She must rather chummy with him if they're planning to meet after class. I wonder…

"Ah, Miss Britford." William, now ignoring Brandi, diverts his attention to the newest arrival in the room. Damn, ust when is she going to get her question answered! Class is about to start! "I see you have arrived on time today."

"I am sorry for that." She bows, actually bows, like she's some servant stuck in the eighteenth century. "Mr. Knox's schedule only allowed him to show me the whole of the Association during the mornings. I assure you, it will not happen again from now on."

"Very well then. Come to receive your marked assignment." William beckons her with one hand, while Brandi notices for the last time that there is one last paper, a mock report of an actual reaping, that has yet to be handed out, belonging to the shorter girl. Unable to resist seeing what the other girl got on her own essay, Brandi leans over as Miss Britford takes it in her hand.

Wait a minute.

Wait just a fucking minute.

How did that girl- the one who probably doesn't even know how to write properly- get a higher mark than her?

"Ah, excuse me." She delves back into the conversation. "I just wanted to know exactly what cost me those last two marks-"

"You had bias."

Brandi's gaze snaps to look at Miss Britford, suddenly hostile as her brow furrows and her ruby lips draw back in pursed lips. "Excuse me?"

"Your report had bias in it. That is what cost you one of the marks." The emotionless girl adjusts her weirdly colored glasses, like she is pretending to be the instructor currently sitting in his desk. (Why are they green? They have no business being green…)

William just nods. His behaviour is automatic, like he is content to let Eve do the talking. "That is correct."

"And how would you know that?" Her words are like a sour apple, vindictive and suspicious as she interrogates the girl.

"You were reading out several parts before you handed it in. I heard everything."

"!" She heard?

"And the fact that you divulged information about what was meant to be an independent project is what cost you the second mark."

"Also correct." William adds, completely indifferent, or maybe oblivious, to Brandi's indignation and fury. "Now, if that answers your question, if you please," He shoos them away. "Class is about to begin."

Before Miss Britford can return to her seat, halfway across the lecture room from hers, Brandi clamps a hand down on her shoulder. "So sorry," She purrs, not apologetic at all, "But I was just wondering, how did you know this?"

Despite the demand in her voice, Miss Britford does not turn, instead replying with her back facing Brandi. What disrespect. "What are you referring to?"

"You should know what I'm referring to, Miss-perfect-score. How did you know so much about the rules when you weren't even here to learn them?"

And the perfect student finally decides to grace Brandi with her presence, turning her head to look at her with what Brandi knows is contempt. "Simple. I took the liberty of borrowing every book needed to pass the final exam, and memorized everything single one of them."

…..

"Every single one?" Felicia's mouth falls open the second time that week, staring at Eve like she has grown another arm. Or set of eyes, which would be more relevant to the conversation. She shuffles forward a few steps as the reaper in front of her do the same.

Eve mimics the motion and says, "Yes."

"As in, every one?" The redhead is still unbelieving. Even in her stupor, though, she still has enough electricity in her brain to continue moving up the line, at least.

The raven-haired girl continues to answer the same way as before: curt and polite, though the twitch of her face indicates her patience is starting to wear thin. "Yes."

"In a week?" Twitch.

"Yes."

"Did you get any sleep at all?" Twitch twitch.

"No. What is sushi?" Eve pushes up her glasses again, slightly irritated by their tendency to slip so often, and mentally scolds herself for being sucked into yet another one-sided conversation. At the first chance, she changes the subject and brings up the cafeteria's questionable menu list.

Felicia mimes falling backwards in an overly dramatic fashion, legs kicking up and arms flailing like kraken tentacles, in mock horror. "La gasp!" She… gasps. "Don't tell me you don't know what sushi is!"

"There is no need to say I do not know what sushi is; my previous statement already implied it."

With a facepalm, Felicia then explains, "Sushi is basically raw fish wrapped in rice and seaweed. It's a Japanese food."

"What is Japanese?"

"A language. A culture." The pint-sized girl is growing steadily more enthusiastic as she digs deeper into what seems to be one of her most favored subjects to converse about, jumping up and down from the tips of her toes. "There's a country across the world from here named Japan, and has all sorts of things that are different from here, like food, clothes, and the language. There's stuff like sushi and teriyaki and rice which comes from the continent of Asia. We had this one Japanese reaper transfer here in some kind of program, it was called the Shinigami exchange program I think, and the things he brought over were super popular with the workers here, so they kept a lot of things the same even after the transfer left! Like the word sempai. It's a title that is given to someone who's been here longer than you."

"So you would be my sempai." Eve clarifies. Meanwhile, in the background, she can vaguely hear someone complaining behind her, but the words are lost in the general din and the redhead's exuberant response.

"Yup! And the opposite of the word would be kouhai, so you're my kouhai!" Felicia pats Eve's shoulder, having to reach given the difference of height. She is at the front of the line now, but stops short of ordering to keep talking to her 'kouhai' instead. "Grell's really into it; she talks about this one dude as 'Sebas-chan' and she's okay with you calling her sempai, too. And she's got these gorgeous red Chinese dresses too! But William-sempai doesn't like it, being called sempai, I mean, not wearing dresses, cuz the last time I tried he smacked me on the head and said 'you will refer to me as Mister Spears' and 'rah, rah, rah' so I only call him that when's he's not around. Oh, we're at the front on the line. One plate of salmon sushi please!"

The girl at last breaks off her long train of conversation to place her order. After being handed a plate covered in pieces of salmon wrapped in rings of white and green, she pops one into her often-open mouth and chew with relish, licking her lips afterwards. "Anyways, see you in the classroom if you don't decide to eat here." She waves goodbye to the other girl, now in the front, as she prances out the exit door. "And you should totally try the sushi, it's great!"

"Uh huh." Eve answers dejectedly, before dropping her money onto the counter. "Lamb stew, please."

She is given not five minutes alone with her food, however, plopped into a seat at an empty part of the room, when her meal is interrupted by a violent tremor vibrating through the vicinity. Eve ignores it at first, but the disruption is reinforced by an angry male voice barking "Hey! You in the seat! I'm talking to you!" along with another slam on the table.

Leaning heavily on said table is a stocky, red-faced boy with flaming red hair and a temper to match. The man is not a trainee, but from his temperament, the girl can tell that he is not the most senior of death gods either. He is snarling with malice, "Do you realize how long you and your shorty friend took at the beginning of the line?"

Eve looks up, pushing up her lime-tinted glasses. "No."

"Well, it took a damn long time! And I am not in the mood for another inconvenience."

"Then perhaps you would do well to come to the line earlier."

"Yeah? Well maybe you're the rookie who should give more respect to her elders! Maybe you're the one who should let people pass when they're-"

"What do you want?"

"What?"

"What. Do you want. From taking the trouble to approach me?" The girl is becoming impatient, and goes straight to the point, wanting to get the entire interaction over with. It is clear that the person she is talking to is one of the arrogent kinds of people that let their title do all of their talking. (Eve feels disapointed: She hopes not everyone she meets in this association is not so... exaggerated.)"My money? My food? A sarcastic apology for your own faults?"

"That's a good idea, actually." The man pushes himself up and leers at Eve, now very cocky in the same way the first demon she had met acted. "Hand over all you've got, and maybe I won't go reporting this and getting your ass mangled on the side. Maybe."

In answer, Eve deliberately raises her soup-filled spoon in her lips, still steaming, and sips from the edge of the utensil. She performs this action twice more, gazing down at her food rather than at the corrupted hulk of a man standing before her.

Then it is her turn to abruptly hit the table, as she basically jumps up from her chair, staring sternly at the man…

Until she scoops her bowl into the crook of her arm and bolts out of there.

"He- Hey! Get back here! I'm not done with you yet!" The angry dude tries getting through the crowd, but Eve effectively shakes him off by jumping off of several chairs, tables, and even over a few peoples' heads, and vanishing from sight.

A moment her feet touch the hall floor, Eve comes to a full stop and alters her pace from lightning fast to a leisurely walk. The only disturbance she encounters until she makes her way back to the Reaper-in-training classroom is the mean snickering coming from Brandi, who happens to be leaning nonchalantly against a wall of the empty hallway right outside the glass doors of the cafeteria. "Do you always run away like that in a fight? Good to know." Her words are vaguely innocent on the surface, but the cruel smile on the blonde's face seem to betray a deeper meaning to the incident itself.

"…" Eve gives her but a glance before turning away. "Think what you want."

…..

"Hey! Hey! Hey Miss Britford! Kouhai! Whatcha doing?" Felicia is bouncing like hyperactive dog alongside Eve as she is strolling down the hall, jumping up to meet with her eye level before falling again. Up, and down, and up, and down, she seems persistent in following the taller girl.

Eve pauses to look at her. "Walking. What does it look like?"

"To wheeeere?"

"The library."

"Oh, you're meeting your new boyfriend?" Comes the teasing question.

The only response is the straightening of glasses and the calm words, "Mr. Knox is not my boyfriend. I am to see him after class, which is now."

"Then I'm tagging along!" Felicia declares, a look of smug satisfaction settled on her doll-featured face, as she clasps her hands behind her back and ceases her bounding, walking alongside Eve. "I heard he's pretty cute."

"And who gave you that opinion?"

"Brandi." The redhead chirps. "We girls have to stick together, you know; there's not many us in the Reaping Department itself, so we gotta stay close. And besides, I heard it's easier to get in a group date."

"Suit yourself."

…..

"Um… where is he?"

The two are standing just beyond the upper library threshold, staring inside.

There is no one there.

Literally, there is no one there. The food-chewing clerk that had been seated with his feet on the desk all of the time has apparently vanished. Any reapers, in training or not, are no longer milling about or poring over a book to even talking to each other curled up in any of the couches.

"Uh." Felicia looks around. "Maybe they're closed?"

"The fact that I had to pick the lock to the doors may have been a big hint." Eve says a little in dismay. Raking her eyes along the walls, she remarks, "He may be in one of the study rooms."

"Okay." Flitting from door to door, the Lolita-dressed girl tugs on the knobs one after the other. After five empty rooms, the last door is opened and Felicia pops inside, followed by Eve.

Ronald Knox is inside. He is also without his blazer, tie, and indeed, anything on his upper body save for his watch, and is currently hanging by a belt loop at the back of his pants off of a hook on a small, low-hanging chandelier hanging from the ceiling. He rotates just slightly in a circular motion, while Brandi, who, for some reason is in the room with him, is caressing his face lightly with her perfectly manicured hands and puckering her lips as if to kiss the man.

"…hi." He says awkwardly after many awkward seconds pass the four of them by in an awkward manner, as he shifts his weight and sways just a bit as if pushed by an awkward non-existent wind. "…'sup?"

Eve snaps her head to the side, not wanting to look, and just mutters something under her breath that sounds like "I don't. Even. Want. To know...", but poor Felicia ends up suffering a massive nosebleed and falling backwards onto her bottom, trying hard not to stare but unable to tear her eyes away. "What the- fff- I don't- I don't even- what- what- what are you doing?" She splutters through a fountain of blood.

"Funny story about that actually," Ronald says with half-hearted chuckling that does nothing to signify that he actually finds anything about the situation amusing, as he continues rotating. Awkwardly. "It basically was, well, I didn't know that library closed early for cleaning, Miss La Fenza here offered to let me in, it turned out to be a trap, and now I'm hanging from a chandelier! And about that, Miss Britford, can you please get me down? Please? The crazy chick took my knives."

"Why? I see no reason to help you." Eve refuses in a very passive-aggressive fashion, still looking away from the whole debacle. "You were the one foolish to fall for… this." She waves her hand in Ronald's general direction.

"Pleeeeaaaaassese! I'm begging and everything here!"

"Wait, are you ignoring me again?" Brandi pipes up shrilly.

"No, and yes."

"What! Why?" This time, only Ronald asks this.

"Well, don't know your opinion on the subject of the matter," The girl, for the briefest moment, looks straight at the man suspended half-clothed. "BUT I DON'T LIKE STARING AT NAKED TORSOS."

More awkwardness follows, in which what the raven-haired girl had said sinks into everyone's brains, Eve jerks as if to shudder and looks away again, Felicia's nosebleed intensifies as she faints and falls over backwards, and Brandi stomps off of the chair she was standing on with her five inch high heeled dress shoes and starts to say something until Ronald reaches to cover a hand over her mouth and keeps talking.

"Then get me down and I can put my shirt on."

"Put your shirt on first."

"I can't reach it from here!"

"Is everybody ig-"

"Yes."

"Oh come on!"

"What do you have to offer?"

"What?"

"What do I gain from this?"

Ronald flails a bit and swings dangerously. "Ah… your room key?" He thinks up.

"…I will accept that."

"Now wait just a- Eeeerk!" Brandi flounces up indignantly and keeps trying to say something, but decides against it in favor of ducking out of the way of the knife that is soaring in her direction.

However, her actions are redundant, as the weapon simply flies over where her shoulder had been and severs the thin band of fabric that is holding Ronald attached to the ceiling decoration. Finally freed from his hilarious bonds, the man falls rather inelegantly, but at least lands on all fours.

"There." The girl who had launched the knife is glaring now, having been forced, as she put it, 'to stare at a naked torso' for more than a second. With the flick of a wrist, the nearly invisible wire tied to the knife pulls it out of the wall and back to Eve. She lets her hand fall from its tense upright position and adjusts her glasses again. "Now put your shirt back on. Please."

Ronald does not need to be told twice, and immediately looks for his clothes. Boy, if the ladies from General Affairs ever find out about this...

"Just. Wait. A moment!" The blonde girl snaps this time, clenching her fists. "I have a bone to pick with you!"

"Ah… perhaps while I am here I should read more about those machines in the glasses department…" Having lost interest in the entire conversation, Eve, instead of responding to Brandi, has now started sifting through books that are sitting in a shelf. Ronald stifles a snicker.

"Pay attention when I'm talking to you, will you!"

"We have nothing to discuss." Eve says in a monotone response. "Mister Knox, my room key, please."

While Ronald puts on his clothing, since he is rather uncomfortable standing shirtless in front of strangers in public, even given his ladies-man reputation, Brandi still stands tall and crosses her arms over her chest, standing in between him and Eve. "We do have something to discuss. How could you, some newbie that burst into this place out of nowhere, get higher marks than me, who didn't even try but received the top marks in the preliminaries?"

"Because you are an idiot."

A pair of green and yellow ringed eyes widen in anger, only to narrow in fury. "What?"

"You said your success was owed to natural talent, did you not?" Though Eve is behaving the same as always, there is rising tension in the room that Ronald cannot help but notice. Not really wanting to get caught in a catfight, and did he mention yet that Brandi kind of creeps her out with her I-must-be-perfect attitude, he quietly hides behind a desk and keeps redressing. Meanwhile, Eve makes way with her insult-fest. (Does she even know she is doing it?) "Pure talent alone is never enough to succeed at anything. At one point or another, your carelessness will cause you to slip farther behind as the combination of any talent your competitors have and their own work ethic will ultimately beat you again and again. You want to be truly great at something? Then work at it."

"But you-"

"I do have a natural ability to memorize the written word, yes, but I still would not have reached my current level of skill in anything if I had lived the same way you did. At the moment, most likely I am better than you in every way. It does not matter to me anyways, since I have never thought highly of you to begin with. The only reason I am telling you this now is that you will become a nuisance to me otherwise. At least with this knowledge you have a chance to improve yourself."

Before Ronald knows it, Brandi is shaking as she bubbled over with anger until she foams over. With three quick-paced strides she raises her hand to slap Eve across the face, but even as her hand arcs down, the other girl catches it with no visible effort, her fingers tightening into a vice-like grip.

"Let go!" The blonde thrashes her wrist about, or at least tries to, but Eve's hand does not budge.

The fingers keep tightening. "I have not had sleep for an entire week." As she squeezes still harder, the raven-haired girl's cold demeanor betrays an uncaring recklessness. "So forgive me if I am not in the mood to trifle with you."

The limb is gaining a pallor of darker red now, and at this point Ronald thinks it is time to intervene. Taking hold of Eve's own wrist, he tugs on it gently, pressing the key he had managed to find in his blazer into her hand and saying "Hey." And it is enough to catch the girl's attention and get her to let go. "Don't forget you room key. And, by the way," He tells her, now using his own hold on Eve's arm as leverage to lean over and whisper in her ear. "For your information, you're gonna want to tone it down in the future. Acting like that gets you overtime, and trust me, you wouldn't like it."

Though he gets no kind response, the girl at least backs down and closes her eyes. "Noted. It that is it," She remarks, pulling away abruptly from Ronald, "then I will go now."

"Uhhhheehhhhuhhhh- huh? Where are you going?" Having somewhat recovered from bleeding profusely from her nose, Felicia sits up from her stupor just in time to see Eve leave.

"Out of here."

Looking a little sad, Felicia just waves. "Okay. Bye, then."

"Little freak." Brandi hisses from nowhere, clutching her wrist.

Considering what the other blonde had just tried to pull off, Ronald cannot really feel any sympathy for her. "She's a little strange, I'll give her that." He states, back in his easy-going manner now that he is not half naked anymore, "But you should probably know people aren't really appreciative about being strung up to the ceiling and forced on by anyone no matter how good-looking they are. Welp! I'm done here, and I've got a party to go to, so see ya!"

And with a few backward steps and a point and wink directed at Felicia, Ronald runs out of the library.

"Ehhh? Ronald-sempai! Waaaaaiiit! I wanna ask you stuff!" The redhead soon goes after him in pursuit, leaving Brandi furious and alone.

...

No good little... nnnhhhhghghrah!

Brandi tugs as her pigtails in frustration. This is infuriating! That girl just waltzes in and tells me what I'm doing is wrong like she actually knows! Who is she to judge me?

She sits there, alone, having long been abandoned inside that library by the others. While they had left, however, she had stayed behind.

An angry sigh rushes out of her lips as she reaches for another textbook ("The Death God Rulebook Volume XI") and opens it to rest on one of her legs, crossed over the other. Fuck, but she has a point, as much as I hate it. The blonde acknowledges begrudgingly. This isn't kiddie school anymore, she says to herself, poring over word after word on the parchment in front of her. And if I'm going to go back onto the top, and stay there, all the stops are going out.

Feeling her old confidence flowing back, she smirks, the right corner of her ruby-colored lips reaching upward. "Watch out, Miss Britford." She breathes, bringing the book closer still under her scrutiny. "You just got yourself a rival. And this one's not going down without a fight."

So sunken deep into her resolve she is, that Brandi does not see the shadows behind her melt and twist into something wicked.

And when she turns around it is far too late to save her.

...

Whenever Eve visits Undertaker, he always, always, always has tea and cookies to offer. It is almost uncanny how he has a constant supply of them. Yes, she is well aware that he makes said bone biscuits herself, (a little too aware for her liking, actually... no, way. Too. Aware.) and yes, there are plenty of places in Britain that sell the kind of tea that Undertaker usually drinks that he had once explained to her is named Earl Grey, but still, the girl has trouble fathoming how the mortician can have a constant supply of his treats the entire time.

For instance, at the moment it is the middle of the night in London, every building is dark and their inhabitants are asleep, save for the funeral parlour, of course, but Undertaker still has steaming Earl Grey tea to offer Eve, along with his bone shaped cookies. It is uncanny, but then again, there is no other way to describe him.

"Here you are, my lady." The man in question purrs as Eve takes the beaker from his hands with a quiet word of thanks, before leaning back to seat himself on a coffin opposite the girl. "Now what's the purpose of this visit, may I ask?"

The beaker is halfway to Eve's lips before it pauses. She searches for an answer, but ultimately finds herself not having one at all. "I don't know." The girl says a little dumbfounded, as if caught off guard by the fact that, for once, she has no explanation for her actions. "I just wanted to get that apartment, I think."

"Your new place to stay isn't all to your liking, then?" Like a bat, Undertaker's robes of grey and... Even darker grey let him melt halfway into the darkness that is not fended off by the feeble candlelight. "And I thought you'd be glad to be out of my debt."

"It's true I do not like owing people anything, yes," Eve reminds him, "but I still haven't completely paid my due."

"Thank you for reminding me, my dear~"

With the realization that Undertaker had just tricked her into revealing she was still in debt, when he had apparently forgotten, Eve stiffens and just drinks her tea at an even quicker pace, to the amusement of the mortician. (The sugar in it will likely keep her awake even longer, but at this point she is beyond caring; most likely the girl will not get a wink of sleep tonight, either.) She mutters into the glass. "That aside... I think I still prefer being here than there."

"So you do appreciate my company! I'm flattered."

"I never said that. I just dislike that place." Eve retorts with a huff. "In fact, I rather hate it."

"How so?" Ah, the questions Undertaker asks her. There are so damn many of them.

"The people." The girl cringes in an effort not to shiver, gritting her teeth. "There's too many of them. It's suffocating, they are too loud, and I hate having to be surrounded by all of that."

She exhales her pent up breath in a sigh that pushes away the vapor of her tea. "I just feel more at ease here. The less company, the better."

Undertaker rests an arm between his right knee and cheek and tilts his head at Eve with a stare that would unsettle her if she could not see his eyes anyways. "That's an odd motion." He remarks ironically. "Humans and reapers alike are naturally sociable creatures. Not many of them will choose a funeral parlour with only the dead to talk to over a nice bed with plenty of others to talk to."

"You're one to talk. Isn't that what you do all the time? Besides," Eve scoffs and plucks a cookie out of the urn standing between the two. "You are here, are you not? And I only need one person to keep me sane."

"You could spend the night with any of your other friends."

"You talk as if I actually have any. I do not know anyone else but you. As far as even close acquaintances go, you are the only one I have."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"So did you come here for a coffin fitting-"

"Ending the conversation NOW."

"Then why did you come here?" Chuckles begin to bubble underneath his Cheshire grin. "You still haven't told me. And you always do something for good reason, especially if it costs you such a dear price."

"Guh." Eve groans, puts down her tea, and, defeated, flops backwards to bang her head on the wood surface beneath her. "I sleep better on your coffins." She confesses, closing her eyes. "Maybe that is why. No, that is exactly why. So there. You know."

A small laugh rings out. "Then take your pick of coffins and stay here for the night." Undertaker offers. "I'll just add it to your tab."

"Thank you."

"..."

"..."

"Are you sure-"

"YES." All of the candles are snuffed out simultaneously.

"Bwaahahaha..."

"You must be having a fantastic time with me here." The voice coming out of the darkness holds just a slight bit of sarcasm.

"You are quite amusing, yes." A chuckle follows this.

"I am not the amusing one. My misery is."

"Well then, it's schadenfreude!"

"I do not know the meaning of that word."

"It means, 'pleasure derived from the misery of others', my lady, something I must praise you are quite adept at producing."

"Tch. Well, if it gives me a decent place to sleep for the night, I can bear with being laughed at for being overly agitated and depressed."

"I'm so glad you enjoy sleeping in my coffins so much."

"I am not sleeping in any of them. I am sleeping on the lid."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"I do not intend to be sat on again."

"Kukeke! I assure, it was only one incident."

"Whereupon you sat on me."

"Correction. I sat on a coffin."

"After you shoved me into it. For no particular reason."

"But the lining was soft, was it not? Surely you can't resist-"

"I can resist things just fine. How did we start talking about this drivel anyways?"

"I asked if you wanted a coffin fitting."

"...right."

"..."

"..."

"..."

Who am I trying to fool? I am not getting any sleep tonight.

Man, I just don't like this chapter. Too many cliches. But it is mainly from Eve's point of view and she is the boring serious person in the lot, so I guess maybe it makes sense that flamboyant characters like Grell and Felicia aren't her thing? I... IDK.

Early update this time too because I'll be on a plane tomorrow. Hope you enjoyed.

P.S. Many thanks to those who have followed/favorited this story!