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."Happiness is not the absence of problems, but the ability to deal with them" - Steve Maraboli

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I'll be the first to admit that I was a dramatist from the bottom of my heart.

It's not that I was screaming and crying about every single thing that happened in my life, but I had always given weight to the decisions and events that happened in my life. A weight that most of the time they shouldn't have, but for some reason they always ended up giving it.

For example, buying a cell phone. There were too many things to consider before making a purchase. The model, the brand, the design, the internal specifications, the use you have to give it. Those kinds of things were annoying to research, but I do it to make the most informed decision possible. After that, comes the guilt. Why did I spend so much on a cell phone? What do I need a cell phone for? My family could have used the money better.

Those kinds of things always end up leading to a single thought that, apparently, not everyone has.

Suicide.

I still remember the first time I brought this up. We were a group of friends that I never really fit in with, we were drinking and telling stories. One of them shared something that turned the atmosphere from friendly to dense and, one by one, the rest of us opened up. It was out of solidarity, at least from my point of view. When my turn came and I mentioned that most of the time I end up thinking about suicide I thought we all did.

Apparently, it's not something a person does. Not a sane person.

I never really brought it up again, I just started pretending I didn't have those thoughts. Mainly because I didn't want anyone to butt into my business, but also because I didn't want to worry anyone.

On a normal day, the thought of suicide is very normal for me. I hang out with him. I flirt with him every day. I can almost say that we are best friends.

And that was when everything in my life was fine. Before everything started to fall apart.

The death of my entire close family was a hard blow, completely changing countries was even harder.

Apparently, I was one of the few cases in Mexico that got media attention. My entire family had been murdered in broad daylight. No one knew why or how, they only knew that their bodies had turned up and that the attackers had made sure not to leave any trace that could help.

So, with Mexico's attention on the case, I, as the only survivor of my family member, had gotten special attention. Enough so that I was put into the protective custody program and they had sent me as far away as they could find.

Japan.

Obviously, the first few days (months, to be honest) were horrible. I didn't let anyone notice, because no one has to find out about my business, but they were bad days. I had never been so close to suicide as I was in those days.

The only reason it hadn't been an option before was because I had promised my family not to do it, without them, the promise loses a little meaning, doesn't it? The main reason now was that suicide was the coward's choice. And I'm not a coward.

However, I managed to move on. It wasn't like I had a choice, right? Suicide is a permanent solution to temporary problems (Thanks, Robin Williams) and I'm trying to fix it.

Which brings me back to the initial thought.

In my hands was a pamphlet.

Japanese culture was weird. A very beautiful girl dressed as a French maid was handing out these pamphlets in a public square. And she wouldn't take no for an answer (even though I tried, and the girl didn't say a single word).

It didn't have contact information or the name of the company. It just had a printed sentence.

"All your wishes will come true."

-All my wishes…-

But what were my wishes really?

I couldn't even take it seriously. Wishes at this age? The idea made me laugh.

I could literally ask for anything (it's my own head, regardless of whether they come true or not, you're allowed to dream), but the only thing that came to my mind was…

-I wish for my death.-

I waited two seconds and then smiled. Of course, it didn't work. I feel a little foolish now.

I threw the pamphlet away and started to walk towards my kitchen. I was hungry.

-Would you repeat your wish to me, human?-

I stuck my head out of the fridge, scared, when I heard a voice in my apartment. I lived alone.

Right where I had thrown the pamphlet was a red-haired girl, very beautiful, and she looked at me with an amused smile.

I was dramatic at heart, but not so dramatic as to appear in the middle of someone's apartment without anyone knowing how I had done it.

This wasn't right. It wasn't even possible. I always checked the locks on the doors and windows, several times. I couldn't have forced the door, the noise would have made it I wouldn't have alerted you, much less broken the windowpanes. In the unlikely event that I had left the door open, there was no way I wouldn't have noticed the door opening; in the more likely event that I had left the windows open; they were on a second floor. No one could go up a floor outside a building and look like they had just popped into existence.

"I don't remember inviting you, stranger."

The girl smiled. Her perfect teeth made him feel insecure about his own teeth, which were stained by cigarettes and alcohol.

"You didn't. But how kind of you, letting me in anyway."

I laughed. More to hide my growing discomfort than out of any true sense of grace.

"Really impressive. Did you rehearse it before showing up?"

The redhead moved around his house (HIS house) as if it belonged to her. He felt his eye twitch slightly and the discomfort being replaced by annoyance. Who did this girl think she was? It was my apartment (MINE), but she walked around the place like she owned it. Like she'd been in her house a thousand times. She found the only chair in her entire apartment and sat down. It looked so ridiculous, but she looked like she was sitting on a damn throne instead of a cheap chair.

Her movements were slow, methodical. They had unnatural grace to them. It wasn't natural. It wasn't possible that any human could move in such a calculated way. Something inside me told me there was something wrong with this girl.

The smile she has on her face is graceful. Like she's enjoying the whole situation. She might as well be doing it.

"I don't need to rehearse; not for something like you."

There it was. A clue. A confirmation she was giving me. Whether she meant to or not, she had confirmed my intuition. They weren't the same. I could feel it in my bones. She was a danger. I don't know how, or why, but something screams at me that she's much more dangerous than her appearance says.

-Yes, you mentioned the same thing at the beginning. Care to explain? –

The girl looked into my eyes. She has very beautiful eyes. Green and blue. I had always been envious of people who had colored eyes.

-I always believed that when people feel scared, their first instinct is to run away. But you stay, pretending that nothing is happening. Pretending that everything is under your control. -

For some reason, it made a shiver run through my body. Was there a threat in her words? Was there a slight inflection in her tone, a slight fluctuation in her speech? Is it just her body telling her that she shouldn't continue this conversation?

-How funny. Even now you're trying to rationalize this. –

How annoying she is.

-Yeah well, if you don't tell me what's going on, I can only assume. –

She sighed heartily. Like when I come home from a tiring day at work and take off my shoes. Like when I'm lying in my bed ready to sleep and I sigh in good spirits.

- You still don't get it? You made a wish. I'm here to fulfill it. –

My eyebrows rose. I was alone when I "made a wish." I was sure of that. There was nothing on that pamphlet that indicated I had any device (and, even then, I don't know of any device that exists that could transport a person from one place to another in the blink of an eye).

- Am I to assume you're not from a prostitute service? –

I just said that to get a reaction. To see if I can mess with her.

Her face didn't even move an inch beyond a slight, friendly smile.

- It can be arranged, if that's your wish. –

Fine, if you want to play, let's play. Anyway, I don't think there's any turning back from whatever this interaction is. "And what… exactly… do you think I want?"

She looks around the room, not even flinching. I think that's the closest she'll give me to a shrug, because that's how she felt.

"That's the question, isn't it? What do you really want?"

Something about that last word was off. It was sweeter, more seductive, calmer. It made me feel weak. It was just a small inflection in her voice, in her words. Something so subtle that I'd had a hard time even noticing it.

I take a step back and shake my head, feeling something inside my brain for a moment before it disappears as if nothing had ever been there.

"Well, I want a lot of things. A hot meal, good company, a good night's sleep…"

She tilts her head and rests it on her hand. Looking at me. Her eyes are hard to read, but I can swear she looks amused.

-You summoned me for a decent meal and a night's sleep? –

-Do you have higher standards to live up to? –

She laughs, as if she's just said something charming.

-I'm not the one who should be worrying about standards tonight. –

The laugh catches in my throat, but I force it out.

-Did you decide that? –

-You decided that yourself when you summoned me. –

She sighs again. A little less cheerful, but not in a negative way. She stands up and I feel my whole-body tense. My hands turn into fists even though I know, deep down, that she wouldn't even have to try hard to kill me.

-This is fun, human, but I'm not a fan of wasting my time. Now, tell me, will you continue to deny the truth? –

I grit my teeth and prepare for whatever she might do. If I died, I would die on my terms. If I don't fight for my life, it's no better than suicide, and I'm not a coward.

-What truth? –

Her eyes filled with something dark. Very dark.

-If you want to die, you just must ask for it. –

I feel my skin crawl. Again, there's nothing in her tone beyond cordial neutrality. No hint of aggression. There wasn't even an inflection in her voice like last time. She said it as if it were a genuine question. As if she were compelled to ask more than because she was actually interested.

It was my golden ticket to death, and the person handing it to me was so damn irritating.

If it had been literally anyone else, I would have been delighted. She annoys me so deeply that I refuse to owe someone like that gratitude.

"What if I just want to see how far you'd go?"

She blinks slowly, considering. It was the first genuine reaction she'd shown since I'd shown up. For some reason, it made my skin crawl even more.

She sat back down (in MY chair) and now looks more contemplative than amused. Her blue eyes drift off into space for a moment. Looking at me, but at the same time looking right through me.

"Well, that was a good first try, Rias-tan."

I blinked when I heard the male voice. Since when did people just appear out of nowhere?

The red-haired man standing behind me drinking my tea (MY tea) had appeared at some point, I guess. He was dressed in ornate armor that was too flashy to be something actually worn in the field. And since when did the armor trend come back?

"I told you not to interfere, brother."

"Well, you really looked in a bind."

She, who I assume is named Rias, looked grumpy. Like a spoiled child who'd had her fun taken away. The red-haired man, her brother, looked as if they'd been in this situation many times before.

"Since when do people just show up at my house?"

"Hmm? I apologize, but you must understand that an older brother always has to look out for his little sister, right?" –

My own brother flickered through my head. We'd never been close. We were both hot-blooded, reckless, and stubborn. Our entire lives, we'd been acquaintances. People who greeted each other at parties but never interacted throughout the year.

I never told him, but I loved that bastard.

And now he's gone, and I'll never be able to tell him to his face.

It was a good thing, now that I think about it. I don't want to imagine what he'd say if he heard me talking about feelings.

"You look like you understand the feeling."

I refocus. Both strangers are staring at me, and I find myself at a loss for an answer.

"Anyway, I'm sure you're wondering what's going on, aren't you?"

I nod, and the man simply smiles calmly, something dark bubbling at the surface of his eyes.

"Well, as I'm sure you've noticed, we're not human. We're demons." –

Behind him, a pair of bat wings emerged. Large, black, skeletal wings. Big enough to cover the entire space of my small apartment.

That was… not what I expected.

A part of me went crazy at that very moment. I felt something deep inside me go awry for a second.

I exhale to calm myself. I didn't know they were demons, but I did know they weren't human.

I wasn't very superstitious, but I guess I'll start to be from now on.

"Yes, I guessed."

A pressure began to emanate from the man. Something suffocating. I can see the floor beginning to be eaten away, the wood and carpet beginning to decompose as if they weren't real. I can't see anything different, but I'm sure this man is doing something, something far beyond my understanding.

"And this doesn't scare you?"

This situation was almost funny. Yes, I am scared. Yes, I want to run with every fiber of my body. Yes, this situation is completely ridiculous. Yes, I'm most likely having a dementia attack, and this is all just happening in my head.

But the truth is…

"I'm more relieved than anything."

"Oh?"

I nod and dig my trembling hands into my pockets to reach for my cigarettes.

"If you exist, I imagine there's more beyond this. Something other than this reality."

If that were the case, and my family was involved, the cigarette you just lit was in their honor. If they found themselves somewhere else, in a worse place, the cigarette was a silent lament.

The man's smile widens, full of compassion and understanding.

"Which brings me to the reason I'm here. What is your wish?"

"Ah."

In the end, we come back to the same thing.

"If I tell you, would you grant it for me?"

The man doesn't move, doesn't blink, doesn't breathe. He just stares at me. His blue eyes, just like his sister's, are tinged with a coldness that spoke of experience. This was a man who was comfortable with murder. This was a man who had experience with murder. This was a butcher; I can feel it in my bones.

I open my mouth as I feel anguish flooding through me.

I'm sure this man can kill me, and it wouldn't mean anything to him. It wouldn't even be the most relatable part of his day.

"I want...to die."

My heart pounds, as if trying to warn me that something bad might happen. As if there's still something left to save.

The room itself seems to breathe with me. As if the entire world has just accepted my confession.

The man bows slightly, as if in greeting.

"If that's your wish, I'll honor it."

"WAIT!"

I blink and remember we're not alone.

The woman (Rias) is also present.

She looked distressed. Her lips were pursed, her eyes sad. So sad and compassionate.

"What?"

She moves forward, stamping her feet with determination. She's no more imposing than her brother, nor more terrifying, but there's something in her gaze that makes it impossible for me to look away.

The inhuman demeanor she had before her brother's arrival is broken. Her eyes are clear and transparent. She has the most human eyes I've seen in a long time.

"You can't have it."

The man blinks.

Only then do I realize that the man is no longer far from me, but right in front of me, within arm's reach. His hand raised. From the looks of things, he was about to be killed, and it would only take one hand.

The man is still smiling, but his eyes are sharp, focused, devoid of emotion.

"Rias?"

She pulls me away from the man and stands between us. I can't see her face, but I can see that her brother is losing his patience. The hand that was going to take my life is still raised, but this time it's aimed at her.

No, this isn't how it's going to be.

I don't want to drag anyone else into this.

I try to speak, but my throat closes. I try to reach for her, but I find myself frozen in place, unable to move.

I tremble with effort, and despite everything, I force myself to open my mouth.

"No... It doesn't matter. Everything will be okay."

They both look at me. The blue eyes that were so similar before couldn't be more different now. The man's are still cold, impersonal. The woman's are nothing but warmth and kindness. They are both too much for me to handle, and anything I might have tried to say refuses to leave my throat.

Lacking words, I try to smile at the woman, and it seems to embolden her.

"Of course it matters."

She steps closer to me, and I resist the urge to take a step back. I've never liked people touching me.

Apparently, I'm not good at hiding it, because she stops mid-step and simply extends her hand toward me.

And I...

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First of all, English isn't my native language, so please keep that in mind if you see any mistakes here and there.

This fic won't be updated frequently because I don't have time, but I'll keep the chapters to this word count, so I hope it's worth the wait.

I'd appreciate any feedback.