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Night fell upon the small Japanese town tucked away in the central mountains of Japan, the cool breeze of the waking Spring undercut the heated tones left behind by the warm day. The smell of flowers still lingered in the refreshing night air, yet those who could see the unseen would feel unease stemming from below the surface. Shadows lurked at every corner and the watchful eyes of those robed in black would take notice, the unwary and the inexperienced would expose themselves and be cut down in the street, and then disappearing like ash in the wind.

Yet those that did not expose themselves, would become a looming threat that could yet be identified. Each night, signs of such would increase in frequency, the shadows that suggested a hidden foe, the leftover carnage of another hunter amidst the town's open streets, and the fear expressed by would-be prey. There was something more than just the usual quarry.

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The small Japanese town of Sagamiyama had a population of around 300,000, it was situated somewhere in the Chubu region closer to the Kansai region. It boasted a beautiful mountain view, traditional shrines with history, and an easy trip to Kyoto, Osaka, or Tokyo by shinkansen. It was far enough away from the big city to be a quiet, peaceful town, but also has great access to the amenities and luxuries of those very same things. Truly a gem of a place to live.

Over the last few months however, a select few who had a run-in with death itself, were given a second chance, in exchange their souls and their lives were dedicated to helping the other realm, the afterlife, as substitute Shinigami they would help souls move onto the other world, and slay Hollow who threatened to devour them. Shinigami from the world beyond, Soul Society as they had called it, were there to assist and teach them. When needed for their duties on short notice, they would take a Konpaku that implanted their bodies with an artificial soul to act as their living counterparts, while their skills were needed elsewhere, and after such they would simply return to their normal lives.

Today was peaceful, a day to enjoy, because when night came, these fledgling substitute Shinigami would be forced to embark on a journey that had been forced upon them the moment they accepted the offer. A fate that may affect the three realms.

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The coffee shop was still packed to the brim when Mitsuaki stepped out into the somewhat warm air of the spring day. Black apron firmly tied around his waist, he just needed a break; a simple five minutes to recuperate, catch his breath and his bearings, and then get back to work. Sure. Why did he even have this job?

To try to have some semblance of a normal life. Right.

It had been a month and a half, if his counts were correct. A month and a half since he had almost died, swallowed up by that monster. Ever since, his life was truly anything but normal. Training, learning how to fight and to defend others, with his newly granted shinigami powers. It had been too much at first, but now, Mitsuaki thought he was finally starting to settle into his new life. His double life. As soon as he had some semblance of hope, though, that he was finally beginning to learn how to live in this new light…

“Why’d it have to be me, Juno? Why couldn’t we have just switched places…” His voice spoke out to no one but the air, doubt clouding every word. Juno would have been perfect for this, he would have excelled at it, Mitsuaki thought. Here he was, struggling to still just grasp the situation of what had happened to him, even when the writing was on the wall everywhere he looked. Hitting his fist against the wall, he regretted it almost immediately.

“Hey!” Mitsuaki jumped as the door banged open, a rather large, angry looking man stepping out. “Mitsuaki! Get your ass back to work!”

“I’m uh…not feeling very good,” Mitsu rubbed at his sore, aching hand.

“Don’t care, get back inside!”

“Think I’d rather throw up,” he hated this job. He hated his boss. He hated the people that came in to get their vanilla latte’s, no whip, extra shots. Why couldn’t they just make coffee at their own damn houses.

“You get back inside or I’m writing you up!” His boss was steaming.

“‘Kay,” Mitsuaki went the exact opposite direction. He didn’t need this job. He could find another job; a job that paid more and didn’t have a horrible boss, or equally horrible customers. The tips weren’t even that good. Steaming, throwing out one curse after the other, Mitsuaki couldn’t help but break into a wide grin when his boss slammed the door behind him as he headed back inside. Leaving the apron on the garbage can, he was free to spend the rest of his day doing anything other than work. Maybe he’d roam around, hit the arcade, or see if anyone he knew was around. Anything but sit in his own head, and wallow in what could have been.

The alarm buzzed. A hand shot out from under the covers. The alarm fell silent. From under the covers a face emerged to stare at the ceiling above. With a barely audible groan the body levered itself upwards to wake up. A glance at her phone told Sara that she didn’t have school today. She could just lay back down and sleep the day away. That sounded ideal. She could just sleep and sleep and sleep and never wake up. In fact, she did lay back down on the futon, considering that course of action. And then she sat straight up as she heard a crash in the kitchen.

That would be her stepmother. The woman worried about her. Sara was even willing to bet that she worried more than her father did. It was … nice, she supposed, if not a little awkward. Sara wasn’t used to people worrying about her. Sara supposed that she could go to the gymnastic gym. There was little opportunity to go during that week and her stepmother had taken the time to find the gym for Sara, before Sara had arrived. That still sounded like too much work and too much effort. She still levered herself out of bed and moved to pack up the futon. The sooner she delt with her stepmother’s worry, the sooner she could be done with it for the day.

*_*

That afternoon saw Sara wandering the streets of Sagamiyama. She was carefully avoiding both a certain flower shop and a certain mechanic’s shop as she looked for a place to ‘buy a treat’ as her stepmother had insisted, she did after gymnastics and pushed a few bills into her hand. That had happened this morning as Sara didn’t eat breakfast. Sara rarely ate breakfast, avoided dinner with her father, stepmother, and two younger half-brothers, and lunch was hit or missed. So, that was another thing that her stepmother worried about. Sara really did want to find a treat to eat, because her stepmother was nice and a good woman, and Sara really didn’t like worrying her, but nothing seemed appealing.

Not for the first time Sara thought about letting the mod soul that she had gotten from that one Shinigami from the candy shop had given her about two months ago just have her body. The few times it had interacted with her family it had interacted with them better than she ever could. She was worried that Tatsuha and Hayasegawa would have problems with that. They had to be watching her. They had known about her drawings after all, and she wasn’t she that she would be able to tell when or how they were watching. Sara giving the mod soul her body seemed like something that would upset them. Not for the first time she wondered why she had said yes to their proposition two months ago. Being a substitute Shinigami hadn’t solved any of her problems and she was still no closer to seeing the places that she saw in her dreams and nightmares. Tatsuha and Hayasegawa kept saying ‘someday’ and that was starting to get frustrating.

Finally, she decided on just getting takoyaki from a stall that didn’t have a long line. There wasn’t much of it so it was easy enough to force down. It didn’t taste bad either and for a moment Sara debated weather or not she should get some more, but no, it was probably time to get home. She had just a little bit of homework to do before she went back to school, and it wouldn’t hurt to work on her Japanese a little bit either. Maybe she could get to bed early. Gymnastics had been strangely exhausting even though Sara hadn’t done much. She could just sleep and sleep and sleep and never wake up. That sounded ideal.