Reaper [Original]

Okami

They know my face. Why didn't I kill them? If anything, I shouldn't have even taken the stranger with me. He was being taken for a reason. Why didn't I just walk away?

He was still out cold when I set him down on my bed. When I scanned his fingerprints, all I got was a name. Okami. No last name, no birth date; not even a single record of him. It's like he never existed. Maybe that's why the Bloodhounds had gone after him.

I sigh, leaning my back against the wall as I stare at him. The clothes he wore fit his small frame too big. His pale complexion was marked red in some places, most likely from the struggle he put. His red hair was a bit too long. If I hadn't known any better, I probably would've mistaken him for a girl.

My eyes suddenly felt heavy, my body tired, as if barely realizing that I had been physically challenged not too long ago. I yawn. A small sigh escapes my lips and I let sleep take me.

ヾ(･|

A sense of dread overcomes me as I fall. I know I'm going to hit the ground, but I don't know when. I'm not afraid either- just frustrated. If I was going to die, couldn't Death just hurry up and finish the deed?

There's suddenly a blinding white light. I cover my eyes in pain, trying to regain my vision. Then I realize that I'm not falling anymore. I sit up quickly.

"Remember Jack," a voice echoes in my head.

I turn around quickly and stare at a distant figure. I can tell they're facing me. I notice that they're also standing at the border of a thick, alluring forest. When they turn away and start walking inside it, I follow.

I begin to sit up when I bump heads with someone. I groan in pain, stars in my vision. I open my eyes slowly and come face to face with Okami. His eyes widen and he scrambles back- away from me. I get up with a sigh.

"You're a demon!"

I furrow my eyebrows and look down at him. He stares up at me in awe, fear also written in his eyes.

"No," I walk past him and grab my shoes.

"Then what are you?" he asks, suddenly standing behind me.

"I'm a mechanic," I respond.

"But that's not all."

I look at him in irritation. Why was he pestering me with all these questions?

"I'm a murderer," I say as I put my boots on.

"So you kill people," he says slowly, as if weighing the words on his tongue.

"Yea, pretty much," I say, hiding my surprise at how unfazed he was by the fact.

He goes quiet after hearing my response. I shrug half- heartedly and walk away, pushing the door to the shop open. I hear the soft pad of footsteps as he follows me.

"But that doesn't explain why your eyes look like that," he say while I unlock the door and flip the sign to OPEN.

 I sigh and turn to face him. I notice that, although he's shorter than me, it's only by a mere few inches.

"Look, I'll tell you what the doctors told me," I cross my arms. "I was admitted into a hospital with second degree burns on my face. They said it was a miracle that I didn't get any  scars. No, I'm not blind so don't even bother asking," he closes his mouth.

"So you can see," he asks, his hand touching my face. My back stiffens at the sudden contact.

He notices my discomfort and pulls his hand away with an apologetic smile.