Lately I've gotten a large amount of subscribers to this story, which was curious because last month I forgot to update on the 15th! Does anyone know why? Oh well. To all you new subscribers, hi!

And if you're wondering the reason I forgot last update: exams. That is all.

We now return to our originally scheduled broadcast.

"It was not me."

"Admit it! You were there! You were in his records!"

Apparently John had had a fiancé.

The woman in question is distraught. Panicked. In grief. Her reaction- a swift striding up to and slapping in the face of Eve just seconds before- is completely understandable. In spite of this rationalization, however, Eve is feeling a slight resistance inside her adverse to behaving completely sensibly. Perhaps it is anger. Horror. Upset. She cannot tell for sure, but there is definitely something there boiling in the pit of her stomach as the girl looks into the almost-widow's eyes and repeats her alibi. "I was also in the records of over ten different humans, and one retired reaper by the name of Undertaker."

"The murderer in his memories-"

"Is an imposter." The other reaper cuts in cooly. "One, I assure you, I have every intention of bringing to justice. You are not the only one being damaged by these attacks."

Never mind that Eve is not even assigned to the case (yet; she suspects that her investigation of the mass murder the day of her final exam will eventually be merged with it what with the culprit appearing to be one and the same). Never mind that to be honest, the girl has no idea at the moment just how she is going to bring the existence of the doppleganger to light. Already, Eve knows she will and has to do this- because the cost of failure may very well be her own life. The fiancé stares at her, and Eve looks back, unmoving and impassive in her declaration.

The look in her eyes seems to be convincing, as, apparently barely mollified, the fiancé huffs, as if about to slap Eve again, but then turns on her heels and stalks away.

The large, judgemental crowd that had been surrounding them eventually follow suit.

...

Solving a crime is never as easy as it looks.

"Died, died, witnessed a glimpse, then died..." Muttering fervently as she fingers the pages, the more easily accessed but slower form of examining memories that is the books they are stores in, Eve scrutinizes the books as closely as possible, which is quite close considering with what dedication the reaper happens to be doing it. Gathering evidence from the viewpoint of the victims can be a difficult task, especially for crimes where they are out into a state of panic, such as violent, bloody murder. Eve is not even sure what she is looking for, if anything in here, in these imperfect records of the massacre, may help her in the slightest at finding out where the doppleganger may be hiding, and the shakiness and blurred lines of the records, the result of confusion clouding the vision of the victims, is doing nothing to help.

It is better than nothing, but regardless, Eve makes a mental note to see if the Scotland Yard may have anything. It is time to brush up on her lock-picking skills. No, chances are, they will not have found any useful details either, provided that they even know of the crime yet.

Think, the girl leans back in her seat, almost far enough to stare of the bookshelf behind her. Dopplegangers impersonate people. To track it down using physical evidence will not help; it will simply disguise itself as something else and flee. No, she needs to look at this from a psychological standpoint. What is the pattern? The massacre had simply been a random act done to gain the notice of the reapers and draw suspicion to Eve herself. The real problem at hand is the attack on the soul collectors themselves. First, Brandi had been attacked. Next, John killed.

The connection between the two of them? So far, Eve only knows that she had come into contact with them...

"Um, Miss Britford?" Who is that? Eve turns her head around only to see Felicia, looking a little more shy than usual. As soon as the redhead sees Eve's face, however, she seems to brighten up instantly. "Oh! So it is you! I didn't know for sure for a second. Anyways, I heard you've been working a real hard case."

"Heard?" That is new. Eve knows there are rumours of all kinds going around, especially about her and the possibility of her having brutally murdered a whole group of people during her final exam but her case?

"Yeah! Things get around fast, and it sounds like you have a doozy. I just thought, because, you know, you just graduated and the investigation sounds really tough, not that I don't think you could do it alone or whether we can because of the rules, um..." Getting slightly flustered, Felicia takes a deep breath before starting over. "I mean, we'll help any way we can! If you need it..."

"...we?" Eve inquires lightly, raising an eyebrow that the solitary girl who had approached her.

"Eh? I thought a bunch of people were coming with me... Where'd they all go?" Throughly confused, Felicia glances over both her shoulders before coming to the same conclusion Eve had since the two had started the conversation- they are alone. "I guess... They had to do something... All of them... But either way, promise you'll ask your friends for help when you need it, okay?" The redhead, in spite the rather sudden and unsettling disappearance of her peers, recovers quickly and bows for good measure.

Eve looks at the Lolita girl a little while longer, then bends her head down in return. "I will. Thank you." She vows.

Upon hearing this, the beam on Felicia's smile comes back full force, and as she skips away, Eve wonders whether what she is feeling is happiness or melancholy. For some reason, they both feel nearly the same to her.

...

"If worst comes to worst." The reaper says. "I'll set myself as bait and kill it when it comes."

It is but an offhanded comment- thrown into the conversation without a second thought by an Eve still surrounded and absorbed in her piles and stacks of books, brought home from work- but the flippant remark still catches the ear of Undertaker, making him pause in his pouring of tea. It is one of their more unconventional dinners- meaning that for once, they are not eating cookies, drinking earl grey, and the girl happens to be reading at the makeshift coffin-turned-table. The most of the unconventionality comes from their conversation. "Is that so?" The mortician inquires, genuine curiosity seeping into his voice, like tea-soaked biscuits. "Alone?"

"I will if I have to." Eve admits, the testimony punctuated with a closed book and an open sigh. "Which I might, unless I can get more than one person to come with me. On the off chance that one of the people I ask happens to be impersonated, I'd want someone else there too to help subdue it. Of course, this is speculation, seeing as I've no idea where to begin."

Another heavy exhale. At this point, the reaper shoves the books out of the way, and a good amount of them topple to the floor. "I shouldn't have brought them." Eve mutters in referral to the volumes, some thin, some thick, all heavy and a complete waste to look through. "It's the pattern I have to look for, but I can't see it at the moment. What do they have in common...?" Perched on the coffin, elbow on her knee, the girl runs over the facts in her head.

In an attempt to coax some answers, mainly so then the couple can turn the conversation somewhere more interesting and hopefully laugh-inducing, Undertaker poses his help in the form of a question. Several, actually. "So describe them. What do they have in common? What are their likes and dislikes? Their habits? The chance of them dying? What would they look like if strangled to death? What's their favourite kind of coffin?" The inquiries he puts up are useful at first, before they start to degenerate back into the kinds of things only he is truly interested in. Ah well, old habits die hard.

Closing her eyes, the inner mechanics of Eve's mind are nearly audible as she recalls details about the victims. "Brandi was a trainee attacked in the library early in the morning or late at night. Showed signs of trauma, held no witness against the culprit... She's blond and wears pigtails, determined ad competitive. John played poker, brunette, clean-shaven. That's all I know of them, really." It is a meagre amount no doubt owing to Eve's habit of tuning people out. Damn. And she had been trying to pay more attention to her peers as well...

A third sigh. "The only thing they have in common is that they've met me- and Ronald. But I'm the one in John's records, not to mention the humans killed earlier, so I've been set up as the culprit. Like I said, it's probably setting me up for a game. A trap. I've no choice but to play along unless I can predict who the next victim is, if there will be."

There probably will, the reaper muses to herself. Only two victims? Only one murder? For something that likes to play games, that does not sound like nearly enough bloodshed, not to mention the fact that Eve herself is not under that much pressure to temporarily resign or surrender anything at the moment. The doppelgänger will come after her when she has nothing left to lose. This is not even close. "The logical course of action should be simply to warn those who are at risk. Ronald, for one. Anyone who's come into contact with me recently. The plan is to alienate me from others, so I should take measures to prevent that. Will you keep coming in to check on me?" The last bit is directed at Undertaker, who casually affirms the answer with a nod and a smile. "Good. It won't be wise to be alone anymore."

"If worst comes to worst." She says again, the comment no longer a half-hearted spiel but a devoted declaration, "I'll set myself as bait and kill it when it comes." Her eyes lock with the morticians, and he can see the glow, the life in the yellow irises.

"So sure of yourself." Her companion assesses. "Are you positive it won't defeat you first? That it won't get the slip on your and stab you in the back? For a tricky adversary is one you don't see coming- and this one is better than hiding than most."

"...yes." For once, Eve hesitates. Falters. By in the end, she perseveres. She will not yield, not to this creature, not again.

"Would you be willing to kiss on it? Haha~" Undertaker returns slyly. Of course, he is merely teasing the girl- not that he expects much of a reaction right now. It is a weak kind of teasing, all words but no actions, not meant to be taken as serious, or for that matter, threatening at all. The most likely response from Eve is probably stony silence-

So imagine the mortician's surprise when the girl actually complies, swooping up from below his smiling face to kiss it full on the lips. The touch is surprisingly unchaste, and lingers appropriately when Eve ends it, diving into Undertaker's arms instead of fully breaking away. Being only the second time the girl has initiated anything like that, it is safe to say both of them are mildly surprised, though not unpleased. "I won't." Eve vows. Then for good measure, she repeats it twice more, "I won't, I won't." Less to Undertaker and more for herself, muttered into the folds of his cloak and Eve clutches the funeral director close. "If I do, if I did, I might go back to the way I was. I won't. Not this time." She remembers how she had been the first time, waking up from that cold and aching sleep of death. How Eve had been equally chilly, and emotionless and so distant and dead. They both do. "I'm getting better, Undertaker. I'm feeling better, if just a bit. I'm not letting anything ruin it, not this time." The girl makes her quiet declaration, made all the binding as her fingers tighten on the mortician's cloak.

Slowly but surely, the smile that had previously faltered, though because of the earlier kiss than any sad or unhappy reason, returns to it's rightful position on Undertaker's face. "That's lovely to know." He confirms, stroking the girl's hair as she continues to lean into him, warm in his arm and under his fingertips.

I love fluff. Enjoy it while sit lasts.

Review! :D