Fairy Tail is property of Hiro Mashima and BLEACH is property of Tite Kubo.

A bit of information first. This story is a originally written by Greatkingrat88. He's a good friend of mine and I personally asked him to write this for me. I cant write a damn thing to save my life, but he's rather talented. However, since he didn't feel comfortable publishing this under his own profile, I decided to upload it to mine. I DO have permission to do this, I asked him and he said it was fine.

That said, the plot and the story ideas are mine. I tell him to just write what I want in it, with his own personal style.

With that said, sit back, relax, and enjoy.

This is a story about Erza Scarlet. It isn't the most ambitious of stories, nor is it the deepest, subtlest or most romantic. It is simply the modest tale of a hero, whose deeds were anything but modest, for in the end, they changed a whole world. Not dramatically, but gears were shifted- but I am getting ahead of myself. Let us return instead to the beginning, which is generally agreed to be a good place to start.

Natsu Dragneel carried Erza's limp body, walking out of the ocean. The tower of heaven had collapsed, and Jellal Fernandes' plans had been thwarted. His minions- Erza's childhood friends- would live on. The world would keep going, untainted by his dark magic. Zeref would not resurrect. Fairy Tail, and all its fellow guilds, would keep living, the end of the world as they knew it averted.

But Erza wouldn't.

It was the strangest thing, Erza thought- she could see herself, hovering above her own body. Natsu had the most tragic expression on his face, and all she wanted to do was to tell him she was fine, she was right there, he didn't have to worry…

But nothing she did, nothing she said, could reach the young man. Her body wasn't replying; her spirit remained unseen. There was a chain hanging from her chest, oddly enough, and she could fly- and moreover, her power, all of her might and magic, was gone.

She saw Natsu drop to his knees, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. She could see Lucy hurrying to his side, trying her best to console him. He seemed inconsolable, and there was something so wrong about that- Natsu was always so cheerful, so happy; he shouldn't cry.

One by one, her body, cradled by Natsu as it grew colder and colder, was joined by the rest- by Gray, by Juvia, Happy, all of her childhood friends. She wanted to tell them she was right there, that everything was all right- but everything wasn't all right at all, she could tell that much even in her state.

With time Erza would become known as one of the greatest heroes Fairy Tail had ever known. In recognition of her prowess, skill and renown, she was posthumously named one of the Ten Wizard Saints, the highest title a mage could be given in Fiore. Her guild would dedicate one day every year to her memory, a tradition lasting beyond even their deaths. Erza Scarlet had left a mark on the world so much greater than the small slave girl she had once been could have possibly imagined.

Erza herself, of course, would never see any of this, because three days after her death, a man in black, baggy clothes put the hilt of his sword to her forehead, and then everything went black. In one short instance she felt herself ascending, and it panicked her to realize she was losing her memories of her dear friends- but the panic soon passed, as did the soul of Erza Scarlet.

Erza slowly opened her eyes. Slowly, she grabbed at her chest, and found that there was no chain there. Quickly, she sat up. Did this mean she was alive? Quickly, she looked around. Well, this wasn't home- she was sitting in a forest, open with plenty of space between its green, leafy trees. To her left, she could see a small stream; to her right, more forest. Slowly, she stood up.

"Where am I?" She mumbled. She nearly fell over, stumbling- she felt sick, as if she was just coming out of a fever. She put her hand against the stem of a tree, waiting for it to pass, her head hanging, looking into the ground. What- what had happened just now?

"Time to pass on, girl,"

It… it had been some sort of person in black. And she hadn't wanted to go- her friends still needed her. And then…

"No!" she cried. "No, I can't leave! You can't make me!" She lashed out against the man in black, trying to push him away- but her power was almost all gone. She was so weak…

Gently but firmly, the man took her by the arm. "You're a strong one. You'll be all right."

And then, he had gently put the hilt of his sword against her forehead, and then… this.

Slowly, she raised her head again. This… was the afterlife? Erza had never had much of any religion- she hadn't been raised into one; Fairy Tail wasn't exactly a pious guild- and she herself had been too busy with real life stuff, like work, friends, just life to want to go soul searching. But she had known about religion, and this didn't match anything she knew. Which, admittedly, wasn't much- but she would have expected fluffy clouds and happiness and bliss, not just… a forest.

Oh, damn- Fairy Tail. That… what was that? Suddenly, she tried to take all she could about it in, but like a person waking from a dream, the memories slipped away- like they were dreams and only dreams. Names- Lucy, Natsu, Wendy, Jellal, Makarov- names, so many names, vanishing from her memory, and she felt like she could cry. Focusing as much as she could, she tried burning their faces into her memory- she had come from Fairy Tail, whatever Fairy Tail was, and… there had been a young man with fiery red hair, a young woman with blond hair, a young girl with black hair and an innocent look, talking cats, a really old man… oh, and there were more, but she couldn't remember

Erza shook her head, standing up. The feeling of nausea had passed, only to be replaced by a deep sense of loss- she had been lost to some people important to her, and she in turn had lost them. Almost.

But Erza Scarlet- that was her name, she remembered that much- wasn't one to dwell. Looking forward, she decided that since she was apparently dead, but quite fit otherwise, there was no point in sitting down and crying. She had lost her precious people- so she would just have to find them again. It would be a long term goal.

With that decided, she looked around. Civilization was nowhere in sight, and she had no idea where she was. Well, that just meant there was another problem that needed solving.

Another problem, she decided, was what she was wearing. She had hoped she would have passed on with what she wore when she died- armour, well-made clothes- but what she actually wore looked more like… rags. A singular piece of cloth, of indeterminate colour, which barely covered what modesty demanded. Not that Erza was a stickler for modesty, but it was… less than optimal. She had always had nice forms ever since she hit her upper teens, but right now, that wasn't an asset.

Sighing, she began walking further into the forest. She had no idea where to go, or where she was, but doing something was always better than doing nothing. After a small while, she stopped by a small stream, deciding that a drink of water might do her good. Did she even need to, now that she was dead? No matter. Slowly, Erza stepped into the water. It was a shallow stream, the water stopping just below her knees. Bending over, Erza cupped her hands, and scooped up some water.

And then, right as she was drinking, she heard it. A whistle. It was a very particular kind of whistle- not just a merry tune, but the low, elaborate, drawn out wolf whistle of a man. She'd heard it back when she was alive, she was sure- and this was the same. Slowly, she turned around. And there, just fifteen or so yards away, stood three men, grinning with the typical kind of leer that a certain kind of men all seemed to have. They all wore worn-down clothes, but they had colour, mainly blue- quite the difference between her own rags.

"Looks like we got ourselves a new arrival," one of them said as Erza stepped out of the water, viewing them with suspicion, "and a real cutie at that."

"Who are you?" Erza asked.

"The boss'll be real happy about this." Another of the men said, ignoring her. "He could use a tumble by now."

"So could we." The first one said.

"Excuse me?" Erza said incredulously.

"Allow me." The man in front said, apparently the one in charge. "You're dead. So're we. This is the afterlife- the Soul Society. Now, these particular lands belong to boss Hoku. Anyone new's gotta answer to him. So why don't you come with us, and we'll… give you the full explanation, eh?"

"How about no?"

"Oh, this one's got fire!" The second man said, chuckling. "Lemme get this one straight: Our boss owns this place. We work for him. That means we own you." He stepped forward, extending a hand towards her. "So don't be a bitch about it. We're just going to have some fun-"

And as he tried to grab her, Erza reached out, grabbing his arm first, and then she twisted, and before she knew how it even happened, the man was on the ground, screaming with pain.

"My fuckin' arm!" He cried. "She broke my fuckin' arm!"

"That's it." The lead man said coldly, taking out a whip. "The hard way it is, eh?" He extended it, swinging the whip around, lashing it forward. It wrapped around her neck, hard- She couldn't breath.

But the thing about a weapon like this, she realized, was that if you kept your footing and just pulled, it could just as easily be turned around.

So she grabbed the whip, digging her feet into the ground, and pulled, and suddenly the man was stumbling forward, having lost his footing. Reacting quickly, she hopped forward, slamming a fist into his solar plexus- then again, for good measure. He didn't lose his footing, although he probably wished he had, because she wasn't letting up. Quickly, she grabbed him by the neck, and there was power about her rising, rising as she slammed her fist into his jaw. This time, he dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, leaving only one man with a look on his face like he'd just seen a ghost.

Or something of the like.

Erza began removing the whip, which was still coiled around her neck. Her blood was pumping; she felt furious- but at the same time, curious and a little bit confused. She had beaten down those two men on pure instinct, and it had been easy. She knew how to do this. In life, she had to have been a fighter of some sort. That was one clue.

And what was this power about her? She could feel it radiating, pulsing…

"P-please!" The third man begged, now on his knees. "I'll do anything! Just don't- don't kill me-"

"I don't kill." Erza said. "But…" She stopped, and an idea came to her. "Why don't we trade clothes?"

"Got it!"

One trade later, Erza wore a kimono, much roomier and more comfortable, coloured a light blue. Worn, but quite decent. Normally, she would feel bad about forcing others to give up their clothes, but given what they had tried to do, there was little sympathy to be had.

"Now, I want to know where I am." She said.

"Information! Sure!" The man nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want, you got it!"

"You can start with where I am, where I can find people, and… well, anything about this place, really."

So the all too eager informant began talking, and Erza listened. This place really was the afterlife- 'Soul Society', but apparently nobody knew if there was any god involved. And apparently it was a lot like real life, except with more poverty, lawlessness and cruelty. So much for bliss.

And more importantly, this was the forty-sixth district, which was ruled by some warlord, who ruled through a number of underbosses too. There was a village nearby, too- always a something.

And most interesting of all, what she had felt surging was called "reiatsu"- spiritual power. Some had very little or none at all, and apparently she had plenty, or so that man said.

And at the heart of this Soul Society were the strongest, the shinigami, working under the "Gotei Juusantai". It was them who passed unwilling souls on to the afterlife, and it was they who fought the monsters- "hollows". She had asked what a hollow was, and the man had shuddered- the most she got was that they wore white masks and ate people. Which was plenty, to be honest.

Finally, she decided that that was enough information. After getting some directions from the terrified thug, she headed down the path, towards the village.

The village itself wasn't too hard to find; just a few miles worth of walking. She found herself wishing she had shoes, but wishes were pointless- she had what she had, which was essentially nothing but worn clothes.

The village, when she came up to it, was better than what she had expected. There were fields around it, rife with green plants- whoever lived here probably farmed, it seems. And inside the village, she could see booths, vendors- mainly they seemed to sell water, but some sold food, or even tools. Humanity seemed to be mostly the same even in death. It was reassuring, somehow, to know that life went on. In a manner of speaking.

She walked up the main street of the village, looking around as she trod down the dirt road. There were people everywhere- children playing, adults going about their business. It was bizarre how much like life death was, but here it was. But to focus on herself, what to do next- she needed a place to stay. She was, she realized, homeless, and that was no way to spend your afterlife. She looked around again, this time looking for somebody who might know his (or her) way around this village. Settling for a man peddling vegetables of some sort, she walked up to him in quick stride.

"Excuse me-" She began, but the man- who looked middle aged, and a little better dressed than most- recoiled.

"I- I already paid you people off!" He said, looking uneasy. "I don't got anymore for you, not till next week."

Erza blinked. "What?"

"You got ell your boss I'm workin' hard to pay my share, all right? I don't want no trouble."

Erza felt confused, but then it dawned on her: the clothes. She had taken hers off a gang member of some sort, and…

"I'm not one of them." She assured him. "Whoever 'them' are. I got this off some man who tried something on me he shouldn't have."

The man looked baffled. "You- you stole off one of the blue lizards gang?"

"Well, not stole." Erza objected. "He gave it to me after I beat his three friends up."

"You…" the man began, sounding shocked, "you beat up three gangers on your own. Unarmed."

"Yes."

He shook his head. "Either you're lying to me, or this is horrible news for all of us. They don't take kindly to being humiliated, and if it happened close to us…"

"They were pretty weak, though." She clenched her fist, feeling for the power inside her. "I could probably take them if they came again."

"Yeah, maybe." The man mumbled. "But between you and me, wearing those colours'll make people think you're one of those thugs. If I were you, I'd keep low, and get some new clothes."

Erza frowned. This was no good- if those people came back and wound up hurting the rest of the village, it would be her fault. "Where should I go? I don't really have a change of clothes, or any money."

"Fresh arrival, are you?" He shook his head, mumbling to himself. "Head to that house down the street," he pointed his finger towards a run-down house, with a flaking coat of white paint. "and go talk to old man Getsu. He'll point you in the right direction."

"Thanks." She said, but the trader seemed to be trying hard not to notice her. Taking a hint, she headed down towards the house. It really looked rather worn down- empty windows, door hanging off one hinge, and enough paint coming off that the general grey of the wood underneath it was quite visible. Cautiously, she walked in. It was no less of a shanty in there- the roof was low, she could see a broken iron pipe lying on the floor, and the floorboard had cracks, but she had seen worse.

"Hello?" She said, in general to whoever might be in there. "Hello?" She said again, a little louder. There didn't seem to be anyone around.

But appearances were, as they often are, deceiving.

"Who is it?" Came the voice of on old man, frail and quiet. "I ain't got time for this nonsense. Who is it?"

"Uhm, hello." Erza said, taking a good look at the man as she turned around to face him. He wore a simple kimono, which had probable been white once upon a time, but at this point looked more like dirt mixed with textile. He had a short white beard, and a bald head, and more wrinkles than… well, something very wrinkly; she couldn't think of a proper metaphor. "I just came here today. I uh, just died recently, and then I came to this village and this man pointed me here…" she trailed off.

The man nodded. "New arrival, is it? I'm too kind for my own good- but I'll let you stay here if you can provide for yourself. Got any skills, girl?"

"It's Erza. Erza Scarlet."

"And I am just Getsu." He nodded. "So what can you do?"

"Well…" She hadn't had much of an education, or to her recollection learned any profession. "I'm good at punching things. I beat up some thugs earlier today, and it was pretty easy."

The old man- Getsu- gave her a scrutinizing look. "Take a seat, girl. I want to have a close look at you."

Obliging, Erza sat down on the floor. Getsu wasn't exactly tall, she realized- the roof, which was low for her, seemed to be plenty for him.

The old man moved in close, inspecting her. She saw his eyes- white; the man was probably at least half blind. He placed his hand on her chest, and for a second she thought she might have to give him a beating too- but then he moved it to her forehead, and her neck, as if feeling for something.

"Power." He mumbled. "You're strong, no doubt about that."

"How strong?" She asked. "I think I was pretty strong back when I lived- can't remember it too well, though."

"Same for all of us." He mumbled. "We come here, not remembering most of what we were or who we are. But some of us come here strong, like you."

"Some don't?"

"Most people come here not even needing food, 'cause they got so little spirit they can feed off the land itself." Getsu explained, still examining her, "and only a few come here with enough spirit that they need to eat to live on. Even fewer are actually strong." He stood back, looking at her. "Yes, that will do. You stick around in case some scoundrel tries to steal from me. And when they don't, you do chores. In exchange, you get food and a place to sleep. Sound good?"

"Deal." It was a start, at least. "What was that just now, with you touching me?"

"Feelin' for spirit. I can feel it- just ain't very good at it."

"Why can't I feel it?" She wondered. "If I'm so strong…"

"You're practically a newborn. You don't know anything- yet." Getsu shrugged. "Some people are way strong, but can't sense power. What matters is if you can use it. Can you?"

"Yes." She said, not knowing how true that was. Still, thinking too hard about it wouldn't help.

"Good. Now-"

Then suddenly, he was interrupted, as Erza heard some commotion from outside- shouts and cries, the sound of something crashing. Quickly, she headed to the door, looking out. There they were- six, seven, eight people just like the kind she had beaten outside the village, walking around, knocking over booths, hitting people who got too close.

Damn.

The vegetable peddler had been right. And there were quite a few out there, too- all because of her. Quickly, she looked around. She had to find something, some sort of weapon- she couldn't fight them with just her fists.

Fight them. It struck her, in this bizarre moment where time seemed to slow, that she had already decided to fight them all, even though they were so many more, even though it was dangerous. It had come naturally to her. Was that who she had been in life? A warrior? Somebody who would fight for a living?

And then as quickly as the moment had come, it passed, and Erza looked around frantically. Anything would do- a piece of wood, a knife- or… an iron pipe. Lying there on the floor, broken in half, as if only waiting to be picked up and used to bludgeon people. Quickly she grabbed it, weighing it in her hand. It was heavy, long enough to use as a club, and not too rusty. It would do. Pipe in hand, she marched out of the house, into the street. As she saw the thugs, the destruction they had wrought- tools and items broken, goods ruined, people cowering in fear- she felt an anger rise inside of her, and with it some measure of power. It was a strange sensation, but she paid it no mind- how it worked was a question for later.

"Hey!" She cried out, stopping before the gang of hooligans. When they kept going, apparently ignoring her, she raised her voice. "I said, HEY!"

Finally, one of them- a nasty-looking man with a bald head and a scar on his forehead, with the kind of look that reminded her of a lean, flea-ridden tomcat, looked at her, and whistled. His followers stopped, each one looking towards her now.

"Well, lookie here." He said. "Looks like we don't have to tear this shithole up anymore. We got our thief right here, boys."

There was a chorus of approving grunts, and some cat calls too.

"You know," Erza began, "I just beat up three of you easily, just a couple of hours ago. You don't want this."

The man spat, then chuckled. "See, if you really was tough, you'd just have taken us. You givin' us the 'chance' to back away, and that tells me you're scared. You don't think you can do this. Ain't that right, boys?"

There was an approving murmur from the rest of them, and the lot of them brandished whatever weapons they had- sticks, clubs, the odd knife, or just their fists. They looked so typical- tough, lean, muscular, with a look in their face that said that yeah, they'd sell their grandmother for a dime. They might as well have tattooed "enforcer" on their foreheads.

But of course, image was just that- image. She'd fought enough people to know that appearances could be deceiving- and that this kind of thug didn't have much in the way of morale.

Wait, how did she know that?

"Who are you people? What do you want?" She said, hoping to stall. Stall for what exactly, she wasn't sure.

"We're the Blue Lizards." The leader said, looking grim. "I'm Taku, and I answer directly to boss Hoku. And you," he said, pointing at her, "are a thief and a rebel. And we don't take kindly to rebels- let one weed start, an' they just keep spreading."

"Well, good that's clear. I wouldn't want to mistake you for the turquoise frogs." Erza mumbled. "Your men tried to take me- said they owned me. So I beat them. And I didn't steal anything."

"Funny." Taku said. "You took those clothes- and you resisted."

"I didn't want to go." Erza said sternly.

"What you want doesn't matter." Taku said, taking out a knife. "Lizards rule this place, and if we want something, it's ours."

"That's not how it works!"

"It does around here."

Well, it was official: the afterlife was decidedly worse than life. "Not anymore." She said resolutely. "You're going to leave this village, and you're not going to come back. That's your one chance, right here."

"Or you'll what, rough us up a bit with that purdy little pipe?" One of the thugs said.

"Yes."

"Cute." Taku said. "No, we'll just kill ya- and then, we'll teach this place a lesson."

"You really don't want to do this." She said, and she wasn't sure she wanted to do this.

"You, get her." Taku said, nodding to one of his thugs, a burly man with a crude pair of brass knuckles.

"Got it."

And as he approached her, Erza let herself go, letting her instinct alone guide her, routine practiced into the very marrow of her bones from the time when she had been alive.

And then, as the man charged forward, fist raised, she dodged the first swing, then grabbed the pipe with both hands, and slammed it into the side of his chest. She could feel her power surging, and for a fleeting moment she felt like she could control herself- not just control what she did, but every cell in her body…

And then, the thug went flying, slamming into a house wall fifteen feet away. He let out a pained groan, and stayed down.

Taku raised an eyebrow. "Damn."

"I told you," she said, her breath deep and ragged- this power was really taxing- "you don't want to do this."

"All at once, boys." Taku gestured, advancing with his knife out. As one, the eight remaining bandits began to advance, carefully and with their weapons raised, spreading out.

Quickly, Erza looked around. The street had lots of open room. Good- so long as she didn't get surrounded, she could do this. Probably. Deciding to take the initiative, she hopped forward, charging the closest thug. He raised his club, trying a simple feint, but she read him perfectly, and with a simple sidestep, he missed completely. Counterattacking, she slammed her pipe into his gut, and as he bent over with a wheeze, she could feel her own power venting into it. Quickly, she lashed out to the side, slamming the weapon into the skull of another thug. There was a gratifying thud as it connected, and he fell over, quite unconscious.

But that still left five, and they were coming at her now, trying to weigh her down. Just one second more, and they'd have done it. Quickly, Erza somersaulted forward, moving out of range. In one smooth movement, she was on her feet again, spinning around to face them. Not letting herself take the time to feel amazed at this skill- she had forgotten she knew how to do that- she faced them again, hopping forward, kicking high. Her foot slammed into the chest of one of the thugs, sending him staggering back, and as the next came in, she caught his weapon- a thick wooden branch- with her pipe, and slammed a fist into his throat. Clutching at his neck, the man went down on his knees, and Erza kicked him for good measure, before hopping back.

"Well," she said, spinning her pipe around, "that's three down, and you haven't even touched me."

They were still moving now, but with much less certainty, much less confidence. Maybe, just maybe…

"How about you, Taku?" She said, looking the man in the eyes. "You're in charge here. Shouldn't you be on point?"

"You are the toughest here, boss." One of the thugs behind him said.

"Shut it!"

"Well, if you won't…" Erza said calmly, suddenly feeling no more hesitation, "then I will." With that she sprung forward, furiously hacking at Taku. The man parried with his knife, but she had a hand free, and grabbed him by the wrist. She pulled, hard, and suddenly Taku was overbalanced. Before he could recover, Erza slammed the pipe into his back, then into his head for good measure. In the corner of her eye, she could see another man coming in from behind, and instinctually, she lashed out, hitting hard- and he dropped like a sack of potatoes, the air knocked out of his lungs.

Now there were only three left.

"Well, you still want to do this?"

"Bloody hell…" one of them murmured.

"Leave." Erza said resolutely. "Take your friends with you, and leave. And don't come back!"

"Who are you?" The man mumbled fearfully.

"You can call me Titania." She said, feeling… oddly triumphant; that name too was hers. Somehow. "And this place belongs to me now. Go tell your boss that.

"You're mad!" he cried, as he and the two remaining thugs hurried away, their bruised comrades following as best they could. "The boss'll get you for this!"

Erza breathed a sigh of relief as she watched them disappear into the distance. Slowly, people came out again from out their houses, a look of awe, fear and, for some, cheer in their eyes. Erza smiled. She really was a fighter, after all- and protecting these people, it felt good.

Then, out of nowhere, things went black, and she collapsed.

She woke up, lying on a cot in the worn down house, the old man watching over here.

"What…" she murmured, sitting up. Her head ached, and there was a burning in her muscles, her whole body.

"You used up too much spirit at once." Getsu explained. "When you have a lot of it and you don't know how to use it, that can happen easily."

"But I'll be all right?"

"Oh, I should say so." He nodded. "You just need a bit of rest. Don't overdo it before you can control it, though- run out of it, and you might die."

"Oh." She mumbled. That would be no good- she had only just gotten here.

"Still, you're all right. The villagers seem appreciative enough, although they're a bit hesitant- the mess was, technically, your fault."

"I didn't mean to-"

"You did good." The old man said, nodding approvingly. "Welcome to the Soul Society, Erza Scarlet. You'll do just fine."

Well, there you have it. This is just the first chapter of "The Death and Life of Erza Scarlet." and I have to say, im pleased with the results. First and foremost, I want to thank Greatkingrat88 once again for writing this for me, I do appreciate it to finally have the story I dreamed of placed onto this site.

I also want to take a moment and thank YOU, the reader, for taking your time to read this story. It really means a lot to me that people want to give this a shot and I just want you to know that I appreciate it.

However, if there are any issues you find with this story, PLEASE tell me in your review. I cant fix problems in my plot if I don't know they exist. Anything at all helps.

Speaking of reviews, Id much appreciate it if you gave me your thoughts on the story thus far. Regardless of if it gets a lot of reviews or not however, this story WILL continue to be updated at a MINIUM of once a month.

Now many chapters have already been written in advance, but eventually, im going to run out, and greatkingrat is a busy man, so we wont be able to update more than that once things catch up.

Also, feel free to ask me any and all questions you have. Ill be more than happy to answer them in PMs if they don't contain heavy spoilers

But again, thank you for reading and I sincerely hope you enjoy this.