Tsubaki Nakatsukasa lay curled up on the floor of her living room. She had not slept in three days. This was by choice, to watch over a recuperating Black*Star in the hospital and make sure her power was there to keep him out of danger. There had been a few close calls while he was sleeping. That first day, his heart actually stopped beating at one point. When she took his hand, however, it roared right back to life before the doctors could even wheel in their crash carts.

Their concern was unfounded. She knew he wouldn't die. How could he?

Death was already dead.

'He's dead.'

Upon first hearing this, she could make out nothing else for a while. A high-pitched whining filled her ears that muffled every voice around her. The people and images turned gray. Like the color had just gone out of her world. Am I losing my mind? Going crazy? That's the only thing which could explain it.

Shinigami-sama was dead.

How?!

They had won, hadn't they? Kishin Asura was gone, along with the threat represented by Crona. Even Witch Medusa, who started all this trouble, had apparently met her end. It was by no means a bloodless victory. Shibusen lost a large amount of personnel in the War on the Moon, including several people she knew personally. They had sacrificed themselves to prevent the world from being engulfed in madness. But miraculously, none of the Spartoi or Death Scythes were counted among the slain. Although it had been a close call with her own meister, Black*Star. On top of everything else his spine was severed during the conflict. What should have killed or crippled a human being was shrugged off by the aspiring war god in pursuit of continuing their quest. Whether owing to his own superhuman will or her desperate efforts, the Shadow Weapon user kept on fighting without regard to injury, mortal or not.

After the conflict ended and they returned to Earth, Tsubaki stayed close at hand as an emergency medical crew did all they could for him under the circumstances. Black*Star would survive. Their prognosis as to whether he would ever walk again without aid was vague. They told her it was not realistic. This grim diagnosis had no effect on her in the slightest. Tsubaki didn't need a degree in medicine to know he would find a way. Black*Star had already proven beyond a doubt that reality couldn't hold him down. Medical science should prove no different. They would fight side by side again. None of her friends died. The world was saved. And I…

… I can't stop crying.

All of Shibusen was still in mourning over the loss of their patron god. Black banners shaped like his zig-zaggy outline hung from every available surface in Death City. They held a funeral for Shinigami earlier today. This was the only thing that could tempt Tsubaki away from her meister's sickbed. The whole city came out to attend, along with alumni from abroad. She stayed at the back of the crowd, perched on a low wall as the successor to the Death God, Death the Kid, had spoken briefly about his father's past and memories regarding him while flanked by his twin Weapons Liz and Patti. Others did the same; Spirit Albarn, Maba the Witch-Queen (her exposition was limited to "Nyamu!"), several Death Scythes including a still incorporeal Tezca Tlipoca, and dignitaries from across the world. Even Excalibur said a few words (very few; he haughtily departed after it became apparent everyone present wanted to kill him). Then Kidd reverently burned the cloak which was all that remained of his vanished sire.

Originally Tsubaki told herself she would go right back to Black*Star's side after the ceremony was complete. Instead she found herself stumbling home as though on auto-pilot. It all seemed to hit as soon as she locked the door behind her. Everything she hadn't allowed herself to feel in favor of assuring her partner didn't perish rose up out of nowhere with the turn of the latch. Her legs turned to jelly, and the grieving girl collapsed in a heap to lie there sobbing.

"Why-y-y-y?"

It was a plea. Bereft. Helpless. The sort children made, when they needed an adult to come and make things better. Only no one could possibly explain this to her satisfaction. It made no sense whatsoever.

"How could you…?" she whimpered to the empty room. "How could you die? You can't! You're DEATH! That's not supposed to happen! You were supposed to be there for us when we died! It's not right! It's wrong, so wrong! What happened?"

She opened her eyes, examining the room as if in search of a response. Only shadows greeted her.

"Was it me?" Tsubaki mumbled, rising slowly on one arm to peer blearily about. "Did I do something wrong? Were you waiting for me to do more, to… to save you? Please tell me! What could I have done, Shinigami-sama…?"

Saying his name made it worse. The distraught Weapon sank back to the polished wooden floor, clutching her aching sides and trying to suck in breath between the sobs. Her head felt as though it was in a fog, chest heavy and limbs like lead. Something vital in her worldview had been unexpectedly removed without warning. It was like the sun going out. Or the ground disappearing. Even the loss of a person you had known your whole life couldn't compare to such a shock. This was not the first time someone important to Tsubaki had died. Her brother Masamune's passing had been awful. But she bid her farewells to him at the end, even as her blade still pierced his soul.

This time there hadn't even been an opportunity to say goodbye.

I never got the chance. I should have told him before, but how could I have known? I thought we would meet after I died. Then I could tell him everything without fear. I was actually looking forward to it. It seemed so perfect. Now there's nothing. I'm… nothing. Not even a Death Scythe. Never to be. The war with the Witches is over. We don't hunt them anymore. Soul-san was the last to achieve that rank. I couldn't even do that much for Shinigami-sama. I failed him. He was all alone here. And he died.

The girl moaned, clutching her head. Nails dug viciously into her scalp, pressing in as though trying to squeeze out the awful truth, make it not real. Every breath was a loud racking sob. She had lost all trace of composure. If anyone she knew saw the honorable heir to the Nakatsukasa Weapons clan like this, they wouldn't even recognize her.

Why did this have to happen? What's the point? I want to know!

After a while her rigid muscles slowly began to slacken. A few minutes later the beautiful ninja sprawled limp as a wet rag on the floor. She couldn't get up if she wanted to. All strength had left her. This realization finally let her know just how exhausted she really was. Three days without rest after that horrible confrontation. I can't do any more except lie here. What else is there? I have nothing left to offer.

I'm tired.

Before she knew it, Tsubaki Nakatsukasa was fast asleep.

The world had gone white. Not just in terms of color; for as far as the eye could see, nothing remained. A vast, blank expanse stretched all around. It was like she was a lone figure drawn on an otherwise unpopulated piece of paper.

Tsubaki looked down at herself. She seemed to be wearing the top half of a white karate gi with a black belt cinched around her waist. The material had a peculiar sheen to it reminiscent of pearls, and was perhaps more open in the chest than might normally be considered decent. Her legs were bare; not even shoes or socks. She moved her feet critically, inspecting them as if the right angle might cause some footwear to appear. How am I supposed to get anywhere without shoes?

After a bit she gave up and peered about. The empty world continued to every side. Well, I suppose there's nowhere to go to, really. Maybe I already am where I'm supposed to be.

That must be it. After all, he's here too.

Turning around, she bowed her head respectfully. "Shinigami-sama."

"Yo, Tsubaki-chan!"

The Death God saluted her with two fingers of his big blocky glove before withdrawing it back into his side. Tsubaki smiled at this silliness, taking the opportunity to look him up and down. His black jagged silhouette stood out against the limitless expanse of whiteness all around, making it appear as though his mask were a hole cut into the fabric, allowing you to look right through him. How did we both get here, actually? This place is like nowhere real.

She knew what was happening. It felt achingly familiar, and caused her to shake her head with a regretful sigh. "I'm dreaming about you again. That figures." She gave a hollow laugh at the absurdity of it all. Of course. Just another case of her messed-up mind. Wonder what it's all about this time?

"Er, actually," and here Death's glove reemerged to scratch rather nervously at his faceplate, "it might be more accurate to say that you're… dreaming about me… dreaming about you."

Tsubaki looked down at herself, then up at him. "You dreamed about me wearing half a gi?" she teased playfully.

"Er…"

"You have very specific tastes, Shinigami-sama."

"Well, it's not like I specifically ordered anything along those lines off a menu; I just took what I was given! It wasn't a conscious choice. If you want you can probably change your clothes without much effort. But I freely admit dreams can reveal things about ourselves we weren't aware of."

Yes, Tsubaki thought morosely. I know all about that. She took a seat then, one leg pulled up to her chest and the other dangling down as though she were sitting on the edge of a cliff. The empty world didn't seem to mind there being no such thing as she gazed wistfully off into the distance, cheek pressed against her upraised knee. "It's just a dream, so I suppose it doesn't matter anyway."

He gave a little sigh. "This situation is somewhat more complicated than that, Tsubaki-chan."

A bit surprised, she tilted her head to regard him. "How so, milord?"

Death moved to settle in beside her, his bent lower half dangling over nothingness. "This might seem like a dream you're having, but it's actually one that I already had. You could say I'm sharing this with you. Or more accurately… I'm allowing myself something pleasant before the end. A pipe dream, as it were."

The shinobi digested this information as they appreciated their vanished vista together. She was no longer quite so certain about her predicament. It had seemed like any ordinary slumbering fantasy at first, but now she wasn't confident what to believe. For starters it felt more… rational. Less out-of-control than she expected dreams to be. Logic didn't always apply there, and in general you just went along with events. But if you ever stopped to question things, most often that led to you waking up. Which didn't seem to be the case here. As an experiment, she pinched her calve. Well, I can kind of feel that. Usually you don't experience the sensation of touch while dreaming.

Could this really be happening?

Her companion had resumed his explanation. "You understand. I didn't want to spend my last moments with that god-awful Excalibur." Death visibly shuddered. "So I saved them for later. Which I was able to do as a result of earlier events. And now I'm waiting for the dream to end."

Hearing this made her remember the reason which was no doubt behind this occurrence. The girl's spirits sagged notably. Even if he was just a figment of her imagination, it wouldn't hurt to try. "May I ask you something, milord?"

"Of course! Feel free."

She hugged both knees against her now. Grief had returned, bringing with it a sense of cold. But real or not, it needed to be done.

"Why did you have to die?"

Still sitting beside her, Death's hood dipped a bit. He didn't answer right away. After several seconds, though, his voice came back sounding a trifle less cheerful. "Because my time had come."

This response did not satisfy her. "That's the case for mortals. You're a god! The god of death, even! You should be able to exist no matter what!"

He looked at her, and Tsubaki realized she had sounded a bit angry there. Well, what if I am? No one ever told me gods could die. That's a rather big omission on the part of my education. I'm allowed to be upset about something that major even if the deity in question wasn't someone I cared for. I have a right!

"I am Death, Tsubaki-chan," he continued in a gentle tone; she was secretly relieved to find him not wroth at her presumption. "But there's who I am and what I am. What I am can never change. Who I am might have to if existence warrants it."

That sounded a bit too Zen for her tastes. "Can you be more clear, Shinigami-sama?"

The Grim Reaper seemed to consider this, then rose to his full height. Tsubaki followed suit. He moved off at a walking pace, and she took up step beside him. The two of them strolled for a time through the featureless void.

His gait did not slow as he began to speak once more. "You know I anchored my soul to the area around what became Death City in order to keep the first Kishin sealed. This limited my capability, and was the main purpose in founding Shibusen in the first place. That was an effective way of preserving order. But it meant should the Kishin ever be freed, I wouldn't be able to pursue or engage him past a geographic point. And it would require a god to deal with a demon of that magnitude. So I took steps to ensure should that ever happen, a new shinigami would be available to take up the charge. It was a waiting game, until my true successor could mature fully."

"Why go to the trouble of sealing the Kishin in the first place?" Tsubaki demanded, still feeling somewhat cross. "Why not just… kill him and be done with it? That's what we do to evil people! It's what I did when my brother…"

An ache in her chest prevented her from finishing that statement. The Death God noticed her distress and moved quickly to respond.

"Being derived from me, the personification of Death, the personification of Fear boasts an unusual relationship with death. Although removed from me, as Fear itself, his fear of Death cannot die unless I myself am dead. It's the greatest terror inside Kishin Asura, one that will survive anything done to him for the simple reason that if it didn't, he would be dead by my hand. See what I'm getting at?"

"But Kidd could be killed! And you died! What makes Asura so special that you couldn't give him death?"

"However…" And here he held up one finger, like a professor giving a lecture during class, "if I am gone for good, the link between us is severed, and his dread of Death the god will have no more relation to the state of death. As a result of this, the new shinigami can kill the God of Fear where I could not. That's another advantage of Kidd taking up my position. Now that his shinigami power has reached its true potential, my son will be able to oversee Asura's death in the future, putting an end to the mistake I committed."

A fatal flaw in this reasoning leapt out at her then. "So why didn't the Kishin die when we defeated him on the Moon? Weren't you… already dead by that point?" It pained her to think of it, even now.

"But I'm not dead, am I, Tsubaki-chan? Not entirely. I'm here talking to you. See?" His glove came out to give her the softest possible Shinigami Chop on the head. "Bonk!"

She stopped dead in her tracks. Death did so as well a second later. For a time they only looked at one another. Tsubaki stared at the looming figure before her, hope and disbelief warring for control.

"Is it really you?" she whispered hoarsely, throat tight from grief. "Not a dream?"

"Yu-huh!" He bounced a little on his sharp stalk, both gloves emerging with big thumbs-up on each. "It's me!"

Oh.

Oh my…

Without another word the gentle Weapon swept forward and hugged him, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

She cried then. The way she had back in the apartment. Completely, without restraint. It was sad, but at the same time, wonderful as well. Because this really was happening. She still didn't understand how or even why, but that didn't matter. There no longer remained any doubt in her mind that this was the true Lord Death.

One bulky white mitten came down to pat her head tenderly. "There, there, Tsubaki-chan, it's OK. Let it all out. I know how hard this must be for you."

This scene lasted a while longer. The weeping student held on to her benefactor as though never intending to let go. For his part Shinigami permitted her this outpouring of emotion. Once it had run its course, Tsubaki stepped back, wiping at her reddened cheeks. She smiled then through her tears.

"I'm so glad to see you again, milord."

"Happy to be here, kiddo," he said with a wink. It made her laugh. A thought occurred to her then. "Sir, is what you said true? Your essence has been preserved in this dream?"

"For the most part," the Death God conceded. "Being gone from the mortal world, it's only in your subconscious mind that I can hold any connection to that plane. I just needed someone living to have the dream in order to manifest my final expression."

To be able to house the last moments of the Death God; Tsubaki had never dreamed of such a privilege. "You do me too much honor, milord," she declared while averting her eyes, face now red from a blush. This was an unexpected treasure. But at the same time, her insecurities reared up, and she found herself asking, "Would anyone have been able to perform this service for you?"

"No, not just anyone. Only a Weapon whose soul had resonated with mine in real life. That limited the number to a few Death Scythes, and of course, you."

Prestigious company, to be sure. It made her excited to be included in that august assemblage even if only peripherally. Not like I'll ever have the chance to be one of them now. This time it was regret that spurred her to even greater daring. If this was their only chance to be together, it didn't seem right to let such petty fear hold her back. "So why choose me, Shinigami-sama?"

Now it was his turn to look away. "Ahhh… you recall we had a chance to chat in private during your First Kill celebration."

"I do." The memory of being his Weapon for that brief interlude long ago made her body tingle.

"I actually enjoyed talking to you on that day a great deal. It was a good experience for me. And perhaps it would have been better to leave it there. But, uh, well…" And here he coughed, his mask taking on a fairly apprehensive expression. "A short while afterwards we had another chance to meet in person, after the Senegal zombie affair."

"Yes." That happened shortly after she came to terms with her own feelings for Shinigami-sama. He had no idea what she went through on his account. It had been a very good time for her emotionally. Nothing like what she was experiencing of late.

"Ahhh… and you may also recollect that you gave me a hug that time. And thanked me for… being me, as you put it."

He sounded so abashed. Or guilty. What was there for Shinigami-sama to feel guilty over? "I meant it."

"Uh-huh." At this point Lord Death resumed walking, so she did the same. His squiggly body bunched in on itself like a spring ready to come bursting forth. In contrast Tsubaki felt completely calm. Recalling what she had come to realize about herself regarding the master of Death City left her quite content and relaxed. The secret was dancing on the tip of her tongue. It felt like only the slightest encouragement could get her to spill it. Fortunately such impropriety would never come from Lord Death. She would have to be content holding that affection deep down inside like before. No sense marring his peaceful last moments with a juvenile infatuation that could never go anywhere. It was the correct and dignified thing to do, and Tsubaki felt proud of herself for it.

While she considered this, he glanced at her before quickly looking away again. "Well, after that I sort of… had this dream about you."

TSUBAKI-CHAN SUPER ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME OPPORTUNITY!

Oh, well.

"I had a dream about you too, milord," she stated mildly.

"Oh, really?" He sounded amused now. "Were you wearing anything scandalous then?"

"No."

Lord Death chuckled. "Well, I suppose it is just me after all."

"I wasn't wearing anything. It was a sex dream."

This time it was the Death God who ground to a halt.

She continued walking for a few paces before casting a look back in his direction. "Coming, Shinigami-sama?"

He gave a little start of thwarted movement, dancing back and forth on his support like a bobblehead. A few moments later he finally got himself under control, and soon Death had caught up to her. They continued on their way. Tsubaki affected a very sedate, leisurely stroll with thumbs hooked into her belt and a smile on her face. But on the inside, she was throbbing with excitement.

I told him! I really told him! It felt so perfect, it just came out! I'm flying so high right now even Maka and Soul couldn't reach me!

After a bit, when she had calmed down somewhat, the giddy teen noticed he hadn't continued his explanation. "Forgive me, milord, I interrupted you. I believe you were saying something about a dream. And what did you and I do in this dream you had…?"

He coughed, studying the endless nothingness in which they stood. "Um… talked, mostly. Just like we've been doing up 'til now, we really only… talked."

"Oh. That's nice." Again they walked with no words being exchanged.

"That is, you see, I'm not human," Shinigami finally admitted. "Which means the rules that apply to you don't always apply to me. Some of them are obvious, like not having to eat or sleep if I don't want to. Others require precepts that refuse explanation in words. Even after I've passed on. Like now, for instance."

Tsubaki remained silent.

He plowed ahead in his monologue while staring fixedly forward. "I didn't exist as a human, as we've already established. So there are certain aspects of mortal society that eluded me. Interactions on a… personal nature wouldn't really fly considering the difference in my… I guess you could call it my manifestation, or state of being. I wasn't configured on the level of humans, whether physically, spiritually, or what have you. So something of a meaningful relationship could never take place in real life. Or Death, in my case."

The girl cocked her head a bit, eyes drifting downwards in thoughtful deliberation. He had grown very talkative. A sign of nervousness? I'm certainly not feeling any. When she didn't interrupt Death continued.

"I knew what lay in store for me, Tsubaki-chan. Eventually the mantle of the shinigami would pass on to Kidd once he became ready. That never upset me. It was my choice to do so, and I knew it was for the right reasons. As the incarnation of Death, you might say my own expiration was like coming home. Returning back to a more abstract existence in favor of allowing a new expression to represent the concept of Death for the mortals. I would no longer interact with them in a manner that they could relate to. That purpose would be taken up by another. I remain confident Kidd can handle our duties, so it wasn't like I had any concerns. But approaching the end, I did have a sort of… regret."

She glanced back up at him. Shinigami still kept gazing off into the distance. He seemed to be making a point not to look at her so as not to lose his train of thought.

Upon confirming this, the girl reached down and gently tugged the end of her uniform's belt.

"After that incident with the zombies I mentioned, my time was fast approaching. And it became apparent that this would happen before you could achieve the rank of Death Scythe. Which meant we could never have the opportunity to… relate to each other again. Unreservedly. As Meister and fully realized Weapon, I mean."

The black strip of fabric fell to lie crumpled behind them.

Lord Death proceeded without noticing this. "And it dawned on me that I regretted not having the chance to share the experience of wielding you. Which might seem selfish, not the sort of behavior that would befit a god. But after giving it some thought, I decided that my current existence represented more than the fulfillment of my responsibilities as Death. Otherwise what would be the point of revealing myself to mortals at all, when I could simply remain outside the bounds of perceivable relations and continue to end life whenever it was called for? My status on Earth had come to represent a direct influence on mortal society, as is evident in Shibusen's recognized legal status amongst the governing nations of the world. The organization called Death Weapon Meister Academy was made up of living people, as I always intended it to. A god shouldn't be ruling over those with whom he has no real empathy. That would be like humans telling honeybees how to behave. Misplaced priorities, you might say. But despite this, I was here, acting as head of Shibusen. So I could claim some subjective stake in an otherwise objective relationship vis-à-vis me and mortal men. If you take that to a further conclusion, I suppose you might say that being Death is a person as well as a status."

White fabric rustled as it slid down her back.

"So as a person, I could make determinations that I found suitable. Of course, that brings us back to those incontrovertible differences I mentioned before. However, in my own opinion, I could lighten the restrictions placed upon me if I limited any such personal inclinations to dreams. And thus I permitted myself to have a dream in which you and I could interact in a way that would never be realized in the waking world. As a sort of parting gift for myself. Like a last meal for the condemned. And it gave me the chance to present you with–"

"Shinigami-sama?"

"Hm?" He turned at the interruption.

The eye holes in his mask grew very big.

Tsubaki stood naked before him. She was twisting slightly from one foot to another, biting her lip with arms crossed over her belly. It was obvious being nude like this came at a cost of composure. But at the same time her shoulders were straight, deep black eyes betraying no doubt. Her long sable ponytail fell down one shoulder to nestle naturally between her breasts. Every inch of the Shadow Weapon's form projected strength and beauty.

Death could only stare, at a loss for words.

"I'm very grateful you selected me, milord, because it gave me the chance to do something I wouldn't have been able to otherwise." The lovely young Weapon reached up to rub her neck self-consciously. She swallowed, mouth opening to hang silent for just a second, before saying, "And that's to tell you that I love you."

He did not move an inch. "Tsubaki-chan…" His voice sounded very sad. She knew the rest had to be said before anything else could stop her.

"It happened after the time you held me as the Uncanny Sword. That experience was so overwhelming, and a little terrifying. When I had that dream, at first I assumed it was a crush, which was bad enough. I couldn't talk to anyone about it, which made me a nervous wreck. A lot of people probably thought I had gone a little crazy with my behavior."

Tsubaki gave a timid yet undeniably fond smile then. "But finally I found someone to talk to. And after taking the time to think about it, I realized that I had been afraid of failing you." She laughed a little nervously before proceeding on. "I was so scared that I might never become a Death Scythe I guess it made me try to find a substitute beyond being your Weapon. Once I had settled that to my satisfaction everything got better. Still the experience did have a silver lining. It helped me understand that I wanted to be of use to Death, by way of saying thanks for all you had done. For me, and my friends and family, and really everyone alive. Our world was so much better as a result of your presence. You treated us not like a god descending among mortals, but as a friend wanting to help. 'Fear thee not the Reaper'. For me that has a very personal meaning. I don't fear Death. I actually like him a lot. That feeling grew deeper over time. But I thought you would only find out about it when I died so we had a chance to talk without anything coming between us again. And I guess I got my wish."

The smile she wore now was the warmest, most beautiful thing in this entire dream world.

"I love you, Shinigami-sama."

The black-clad deity considered her standing there. It no longer seemed quite so uncomfortable for either of them. But still his hooded head dipped forward slightly when he finally spoke. "I'm not certain what to do here, Tsubaki-chan. I don't want to offend you. You're an amazing girl, so much that it made me sorry I would never see you achieve the potential we always knew you had. I wanted to do something to give this dream of mine a lasting positive effect for you, so that it wasn't simply about me."

Her head perked up. "Milord, there is something you can do for me."

He paused, the white mask cocking ever so slightly to one side. "Oh?"

She took a step closer to him, and was terribly thrilled when he didn't move back. Maybe it's not everything. But this much I can ask for. "Will you show me what you really look like?"

Again Death made no response.

"If it isn't just your dream, then I can have a say in how things go too," Tsubaki whispered, watching him with an earnest intensity. "And if you are allowing yourself to ask for more out of life, I should be permitted no less. Will you show yourself to me, Lord Death?"

Slowly he turned away.

"It won't be what you expect, Tsubaki-chan."

"Maybe not," she came back softly. "But I would still like to know. If you're willing, milord."

She saw his squiggly cowl rise, as though he were looking up at the blank heavens. Tsubaki waited patiently. I won't press him. He doesn't owe me anything. But still, I really, truly want to know.

One large glove lifted to pass before his face, as though Shinigami were covering his eyes.

When it came down, there was a white mask held between thumb and forefinger.

A shiver went up the girl's spine.

He placed the mask on the ground where it lay staring upwards. After this there came a bit of shifting, and then the gloves were dangling from his sleeves with nothing inside them. Tsubaki's heart raced when she recognized those hands. Long pale fingers with curving tips, black diamond nails, and three ovoid slits in the palms. For the first time she noticed this last reminded her of the Kishin's trio of eyes, like it was a sign connecting them. I hope that's the only resemblance.

There was no more time for such considerations, for right then he reached up to draw that black shroud down off his body. The last remaining obstacle between them pooled in a glossy midnight heap. And stepping lightly out of it, Death turned to face her.

Tsubaki remembered pressing Blair on what Shinigami looked like and being thoroughly confused by the answer. One thing she recalled the witch cat saying was that she couldn't take her eyes off him. Like it had been instinctive. He was a predator, according to Blair's way of putting it. Not human.

That certainly was one way of putting it. But it didn't mean he wasn't beautiful.

Shinigami-sama stood nearly as tall as usual. That robe clearly must have been more than cloth; otherwise there was no way it could have hidden everything she was seeing. His skin shone pure white and completely smooth. She remembered comparing it to melted white chocolate that last time. In some places across his body there gleamed black bands and whorls similar to those borne by the Will of Nakatsukasa, her own clan's avatar and guardian spirit. This recognition gave Tsubaki a sublime feeling of familiarity. She noticed they were symmetrical in their distribution (Of course! For Kidd's sake!). He had arms and legs. Relative to his dimensions they looked a little thin, but considering how big he was, they far surpassed the average human's.

There was more to it than just size. Death's legs hinged at the knees just as you might expect although it was without any visible separation, as if his limbs were all one big piece. He had no feet, however. The calves bent backwards like a bow to end in a point that touched the ground, and from there sprouted what looked like nothing so much as two great thick scythe blades that curved straight out behind him. He balanced on their bottom edge as though they were ice skates. Blair did mention something about him not having any feet, and I guess this counts. If anything it reminded her of a woman with prosthetic blade legs she had seen in a movie recently.

Tsubaki looked a little higher then. The arms also possessed that interconnected quality which lent them a semblance of having no separate bones. From Death's elbows there emerged the same scythe spikes as his feet though not nearly as large. There was nothing out of the ordinary about his torso besides it being rather long. His back curved slightly, giving him a sort of slouch that immediately made her think of vultures roosting over a dying animal in the desert. Any discomfort at this metaphorical parallel to life's end was dispelled upon noting he had wings! Sort of. From the area of the shoulder blades there sprouted a long thin arc that looped far out and connected to either side. Like a halo flattened down to two-dimensional capacity. A smaller version of this implement emerged from his shoulders, and an even tinier one grew smoothly from the back of his head almost like a crown. The Lines of Sanzu, she realized, which marked him as a shinigami. Liz and Patti had told her about them in regards to Kidd. For him they were just white stripes in his hair most of the time. Upon ascending to full godhood they became a set of halos around his head. This must be his father's expression of the same.

But all that had to wait, because she had finally reached the very heights of the god's embodiment. His neck was a little longer than most and followed the curve of his spine somewhat, which further emphasized that carrion bird posture of before. Death's head was definitely not avian, though, or anything else she could properly distinguish. It resembled an inverted tear drop shape. Smooth and round on one end, but pointed at the other. His small mouth was located at this terminus, splitting the tip ever so slightly. No teeth were visible, nor did he have ears, a nose, or any significant facial features.

There were eyes, though. Very large, stretching from one side of his head to the other. Only they looked to be almost completely closed. A small golden light was playing between the lids, as though something were moving behind them. She could make out nothing else. They were hidden from her.

Tsubaki stood shivering before the unmasked God of Death at long last. Tears slipped down her face, and her own eyes shut.

"Tsubaki-chan?" she heard him murmur. His voice hadn't changed. The next thing she felt was the back of his hand gently caressing her cheek to wipe the teardrops away. Reaching up she took firm hold of his palm with her own small fingers. Death went still at her touch.

"Thank you, milord," she stated happily.

His small lips lifted in a smile. "Well, you were being so brave. I could hardly do any less."

He called me brave.

It would be rude to refute a god.

Unafraid now, the radiant shinobi turned her head slightly and kissed the back of his hand.

"Tsubaki-chan…" A measure of anxiousness had returned to Death's voice.

"I know." Tsubaki opened her eyes then, never losing her smile or the hold she had on his hand. "You are a death god, and I'm a human Weapon. But here, in this place, I think it's not as important what we are as what we feel. And…" Her breath hitched suddenly on a sob which she had to fight down before continuing. "And I know this dream won't last forever. Maybe not even much longer. So while I can, I would like to be as close to you as possible, Shinigami-sama. Because we both know this… is goodbye."

Tears made her dark eyes shine like jewels, but they did not fall. She wouldn't permit it. Her heart was in those words. Tsubaki wasn't afraid of him saying no. That she could accept. What she dreaded was all this ending before he gave his response. How much longer would their dream last? Even if he knew, she wasn't about to ask. It would be too painful.

His other long-fingered hand came up and stroked her midnight hair.

"Don't worry…"

He then gently nudged her chin up a little higher.

"The dream isn't over yet."

Death bent low. She leaned up in response. A moment before it happened she remembered to close her eyes. Romantic.

This time when they kissed, Tsubaki did not wake up. Instead his mouth remained pressed against hers, and she let go to cup the shinigami's face in both hands. This was to keep her from collapsing as much as it was to make the moment last. She was trembling from the experience, which felt so right it was like a part of her she hadn't noticed was missing her whole life just fell into place. Her whole frame shuddered from the pleasure of this kiss right down to the soles of her feet. Odd how only Death could make her feel so alive.

At last the first expression of their mutual longing ended. When Death pulled back apace and crouched down the teenage ninja didn't hesitate a second. She swept forward to wrap herself around his chest, letting him register her body along with the waves of ecstasy still coursing through every muscle. He should know just how good that had made her feel, and words simply didn't exist.

While locked tight around him, one of the Reaper's hands stole up her back in a slow tender caress. Long nimble fingers then twined into her ponytail to weave through strands like black silk. She felt him move then, and when Tsubaki looked up it was to find that they were now lying down with her on top of him. Although really, with nothing but each other here, not even a ground in evidence, who's to say what constituted up or down?

Not that it mattered. His fingers still ran delicately through her hair, and Tsubaki settled her cheek against his chest with a gentle sigh. She smiled in warm contented bliss as he stroked luxuriously down her back once more, exploring every curve until he finally reached the ninja girl's muscular legs. With arms so long his fingers could probably touch her feet if he wanted. Her own traced over the black markings across his body, teasing out their designs as if spelling out words in a private language. He chuckled as she did, the first visible sign of pleasure on his part, and it gave her a thrill to hear him finally enjoying himself.

With that the girl rose upright to straddle her lover. Noting the playful look in her eyes, Shinigami curved his stooped frame until their faces were but an inch apart. Tsubaki took hold of his face once more and kissed him. It was deeper this time, and lasted longer. Eyes all but shut, she moved her head to experience the most of his mouth, lips moving and sliding against one another, pulling back only to dive in anew from a different angle. At the same time she felt him take a firm grasp of her hips. From there Death's fingers gave a delicious squeeze, causing her to jump slightly and eliciting a moan against his mouth. Her hands slid down his shoulders in response where she rubbed the Line of Sanzu growing there between thumb and forefinger. Now it was Death's turn to give a groan, lifting himself higher in response so that she was pressed firmly against his chest once more. They continued to kiss while stroking one another.

When he entered her shortly afterwards, Tsubaki didn't question. She felt the invasion press between her legs and for a time gave thought to nothing else. It was the last place left unknown to him, and she clenched her teeth with a gasp, back arching smoothly as the god bore into her. The experience seemed to keep going, so that just when she thought it was over another level would be reached, causing her to cry aloud in unadulterated fulfillment. Tears chased themselves down her cheeks while she basked in this new delight.

At last he had found the limit inside her. Sensing this, the somewhat heady young woman placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed him back to earth. He did not resist. For a few seconds she remained panting in that position, preparing herself. Then Tsubaki slowly raised her hips, shuddering as she did, and brought them down.

The explosion of pleasure that came with it was far too great for something so simple. It left her overwhelmed, unable to move. But at the same time, she wanted to do it again. Perhaps noting this conflict of interest, Death took a firmer hold of her hips and lifted her without visible effort ever so slightly. She could only pant in eagerness with fingers curled tightly against his chest, eyes half-closed and begging him to continue.

He did so, and the erotic earthquake happened again, breaking her free of that paralysis at the same time. Now Tsubaki joined her efforts to his, pushing hard and fast in sheer shared delight. With each thrust she felt certain they were drawing closer to something. It was building up like water pouring into a glass, soon to be overflowing the lip. Too far gone in the rapture to think any more than that, the Shadow Weapon threw every last ounce of strength she could muster into this episode. Higher and higher the mystery rose, about to reach its peak. With one last slamming movement she felt herself crest the rise that separated her from it. Tsubaki threw her head back as she let loose a scream of unrestrained delight.

This… is… wonderful!

Panting ecstatically, eyes shut, she felt Shinigami lift one hand to draw his fingers almost reverentially down her slender throat, over throbbing breasts and across her stomach. Her trembling arms could no longer support her, and she sank into the Death God's embrace. It didn't end there. Wave after wave of spine-tingling satisfaction kept on coming, as if her own body was fiercely thanking Tsubaki for whatever that had been, awash in the throes of passion.

"How are you feeling, dear?" Shinigami asked after a while.

For several seconds she only lay with her face pressed against him. Then slowly her head lifted, a weak yet undoubtedly joyous smile causing every inch of her face to glow.

"Are you certain you're not the God of Love, milord?"

His answering smile was small yet no less pleased. "Pretty sure that position's been filled before now."

"I know the feeling," Tsubaki shot back, causing his mouth to fall open slightly.

"Y'know, you're a lot naughtier than most people might think, Tsubaki-chan."

In response she snuggled closer against him. "I'm fairly confident we can dispense with the 'chan' now, milord. This type of closeness doesn't come with honorifics."

"Oh-ho?" He gave her a playful pat on the backside. "Does that mean you'll be referring to me as just 'Shinigami' from now on?"

"Nope! Because I like calling you 'lord', milord."

"You don't say!"

Tsubaki sat up then. Reaching to touch the base of her ponytail, she pulled loose the ribbon which bound it, causing long black hair to tumble down her back in a dark waterfall.

"I do."

Round Two began shortly after that.

Their lovemaking lasted some time, until the exhausted teen lay spent and breathless on her side with the Death God cradled close behind her. His fingers splayed over her breast, and she played with them, gently biting the tips as she basked in the languor of the experience. Death chuckled, after which she tucked his arm close and scrunched back against him before giving a sigh.

They lay without moving or speaking for a while longer.

"Tsubaki?"

She did not respond.

More gently. "Tsubaki."

"Don't say it. Please?"

She could feel what was coming. Or rather, not feel it. The sense of touch was slowly leaving her. That could only mean one thing. The dream had run its course.

"I'm almost out of time, dear," he said sadly.

She tightened her grip on his hand. "I know."

Death stood up then, bringing her with him. Once she gained her feet Tsubaki turned around to face him. His hand was still inextricably grasped between her own.

"Will it hurt?" she asked suddenly, fear for him costing her some of that previous hearts-ease.

He shook his head, eyes still almost totally shut. They had not opened any further despite everything the two of them had went through together. "No. Death isn't about pain. It's the end of all that."

For some reason this made her chest tighten. "And of joy too."

"The end of everything," he declared without a trace of self-pity or remorse.

She yearned to hug him again, but to do so might cost her a last glimpse of the Death God. His free hand came up then to settle over their conjoined fingers.

"There's something I want you to have before I go," the Reaper stated. "It's the other reason I chose to have this dream with you, so that I could pass it on."

Her head tilted to one side. "What is it?"

"Something that will be kind of hard to come by in the new world." He smiled again, lights twinkling behind his eyelids. "I've already spoken to the interested parties, and they've agreed to it this one time. Not surprising; we both felt everyone's better off with certain people out of circulation. If you want to confirm with Maba later on, be my guest, though you probably won't be able to get much out of her besides 'Nyamu'."

Maba? What did the Witch Queen have to do with this? Is it almost over? Don't go, not yet, this is happening too fast! I have to thank him, promise him, swear to do anything I can! There were so many questions left, and so many things left unsaid. Just not enough time.

"It's yours now, Tsubaki. There's no one else who deserves it more."

Even without understanding, a sense of gratitude welled up in her heart ahead of fast-approaching sorrow. "I can't thank you enough, Shinigami-sama."

"Nema problema." And he gave her a little salute just like always. It made her laugh in spite of everything. Then his voice turned serious. "Can I ask for your help with one last thing?"

Do you really have to ask? "Of course, Shinigami-sama."

"Nothing to fear." He pointed at his face. "Just look right here."

She obeyed. And with that, Death opened his eyes.

Tsubaki stared enraptured. There were words there, she realized. Made out of light, so many of them, they swam all around inside his eyes like fish in a bowl. But… something's wrong. I can't read any of it. It's in a language I don't understand, or maybe just…

It came to her with the certainty of dreaming. Backwards. The words are all backwards. He made them that way so I could be sure not to read them.

Her eyes flew wide. Death continued to stare at her. And she knew the reason why.

He's reading the words, reflected forward in my eyes.

'But he keeps them closed until you're ready for them.'

That's what Blair had said. This must be what she saw when Shinigami came for her after death. Only now, he was reading the words instead.

"WAIT!"

He was fading into the whiteness, becoming a part of it. At the same time the glow in his eyes became brighter. She reached out blindly to try and grab his hand again, realizing only then that she was already holding onto something else.

Bye, Tsubaki dear.

The dream ended.

"G'bye."

She came to lying on the hard uncomfortable floor of her apartment. Tsubaki looked around blearily. Her body felt sore and tired from sleeping in an awkward position. What did I just say?

After a few seconds of thinking, it all came back to her.

He's gone. Really gone.

She had thought she would start crying again. The sadness didn't come, however. In its place there was only a feeling of contentment.

I was there for him. He didn't go alone. That was the gift I gave him.

Wait. Hadn't there been something about a gift towards the end?

Removing the hand clutched to her breast, she looked down at it.

"Oh, wow!" the Shadow Weapon breathed.

Black*Star came awake and shot straight up in bed. "HALO OF LIGHT!"

He stayed in that position, staring straight up at the ceiling. A fluorescent light fixture buzzed down at him. Its intensity seemed to grow, becoming an actual halo so bright it caused pain just looking at it. But a big star like him would never give in! You'll blink first!

There came a click, and the light went out.

Satisfied, the fledgling war god collapsed backwards, ignoring the sharp agony of protesting vertebrae in his spine. He then noticed Tsubaki standing over by a wall switch. "Did'ja see me win, Tsubaki?"

"Sure did," she smiled, coming over to sit by his hospital bed.

That spiky head tilted, an unusually thoughtful expression making him appear rather mature. "Did something happen? You look kind of different today."

A small blush crept up her cheeks. "I just had a good night's sleep."

"Oh. Okay." He looked away, a big cocky grin slowly forming on his face. "I'm feeling pretty big this morning," her meister declared. "That settles it! I'm going home today, I don't care what those doctors say! We've still got lots of training to do if I'm going to surpass the gods and kill the Kishin solo next time!"

"I'll make sure to have a word with Nigus-sensei," she offered with feigned encouragement. Privately the young assassin resolved to get them to increase his sedatives until he was comatose for at least another week. Even big shots needed their rest. "Maka and Soul will be coming by today. Her mom came to attend Shinigami-sama's funeral, otherwise they would be here already."

"Huh. So the funeral happened while I was out? Damn!" He crossed his arms, frowning in consternation. "I should have been there! A huge event like that needs all the star power it can get! How else am I going to shine? I want to know what idiot told them to drug me so much I couldn't stay awake!"

Right here, she thought. Aloud his partner only said, "You wouldn't have liked it much. Excalibur was there."

About to spring from the bed, Black*Star froze. A very specific and ugly expression passed over his face. "Huh." He flopped back onto his pillows. "Maybe it's good I stayed away."

"I agree." Now seemed like the right time. He wasn't too worked up. "Black*Star? There's something I have to show you."

His head jerked around. "Is it food?"

For me it is. With that, Tsubaki opened a pouch at her hip and brought something out, handing it to Black*Star. He accepted it with eyebrows raised.

"It's a soul!"

"Yes," she agreed.

The boy stared down at the spiritual glob in his hands, frowning. "Wait a sec…" He peered more closely at it.

From out of those translucent depths what looked like a snake shot out to snap at his face. Surprised, Black*Star jerked back out of range of its fangs. The serpent retreated whence it came with a moody glare. Tiny arrows now ran all around the soul's surface.

Black*Star blinked, his eyes never leaving the object in his hands. "Tsubaki? Is this what I think it is?"

"The soul of Medusa Gorgon," she supplied helpfully, rising to study it alongside him. "A very powerful witch, killed by Crona but not eaten by his Demon Sword partner for whatever reason. Now it's ours."

"Really?" He glanced over at her. "I thought we weren't hunting witches anymore."

"We aren't. But Shibusen and the Witches Council both agreed that considering her crimes, and the fact that she was killed before the truce was negotiated, giving Medusa's soul to a Weapon would be a more than fitting punishment, and also ensure that she never causes trouble again."

"So this means…" His brow cleared, and he turned a radiant smile on Tsubaki. "You can become a Death Scythe after all!"

"We only need 98 more evil souls." She carefully took back the spirit of one of the most powerful and malevolent witches to ever exist. "Once that's done, I'll be the last Death Scythe ever."

"SWEET!" Black*Star whooped, actually hopping up in bed to throw a punch at the ceiling. "That's awesome, Tsubaki! We're already close to surpassing the gods now! Imagine what it'll be like when you're a Death Scythe! It'll be no contest, we'll massacre any enemy for sure!" He paused as a thought seemed to occur to him. "But wait… if Crona killed Medusa, how did you get her soul?"

She zipped up the pouch at her waist. "From a dream."

"A dream? Cool." He accepted her explanation with the simple-headed assurance of a child. The showboat assassin flopped back in bed. "Think we should get the rest of our quota in dreams as well?"

"I don't think it would work that way."

Right then the door to their room opened. "Yo. Anybody alive in here?"

"Soul-san! Maka-chan!" Tsubaki exclaimed with delight upon seeing their two friends enter.

"Hey, Tsubaki-chan! We came to–"

"NYAH!"

A small furry streak sailed across the room. There came a POOF followed by a loud OOF out of Black*Star. The next thing anyone knew, a voluptuous creature with purple hair wearing an extremely revealing nurse's outfit was nuzzling up to the hospital room's occupant.

"I heard you weren't feeling well, little boy," the sexy cat-witch purred. "Don't worry! Dr. Blair has just the treatment for you!"

Embarrassed beyond words, Tsubaki could only stare. Fortunately Soul recovered faster than her and rushed forward to snag their errant pet/houseguest. "Blair, seriously, that's not cool! His spine's broken already, you're gonna get him–"

"You too, Soul-kun!"

Grabbing the Death Scythe's arm, she tugged him onto the bed with a yell. Before anyone else in the room could respond…

"Pum-pumpkin-pumpkin!"

Blair snapped her fingers, and there came a great puff of colored smoke. When it cleared, a giant orange pumpkin reached clear to the ceiling where Black*Star's hospital bed had been. From inside it there could be heard muffled shouting, and a very salacious giggle.

"Unbelievable," Maka Albarn muttered while wearing a cross expression. She then turned to the other young lady present. "C'mon, Tsubaki-chan, let's see about getting those idiots out."

To her surprise, the Shadow Weapon only glanced at the pumpkin for a moment before stepping forward and taking her arm. "Actually, Maka-chan," she stated while leading the bewildered girl from the room. "I think they're old enough to work this out for themselves."

"Really?" The scythe-meister sounded dubious, to put it mildly.

"Don't worry. Death by sex isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to a person. Or vice versa."

Maka seemed confused. For her part, Tsubaki simply smiled as they left.

Dreams might end. But their memory lives on. And that's something even death can't take away.

FIN.