The Story of Zandry the Reaper

Chapter 8

                **Author’s note**

                For those of you that may have read / watched the Black Butler series, you may have noticed that the entire concept of Shinigami is never fully explained and there are lots of holes in their explanation. Consequently, there are several technical errors in this story and I apologize for that, but if you think about it the smaller details don’t really matter.

Thanks again for reading,

Kaldaki

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 “It was a blast! Trying to get in unnoticed, walking around in disguise…” Zandry enthused between sips of coffee.

                Grell laughed. “I knew you’d like it here! You bring back such fond memories of my youth. I was a fan of disguises myself.”

                “Really? I can’t imagine you would be the best at blending in with humans.”

                He gasped. “I’ll have you know that I spent several months as a humble butler and no one suspected a thing!”

                “That’s a lie.” Will called from the next desk over.

                “Oh, Sebby-chan doesn’t count.”

                “Sebby-chan?” Zandry asked.

                “Sebastian Michaelis, a particularly cunning demon we’ve run into a few times, along with his master Ciel Phantomhive.” Will seemed to tense up just at the thought of them.

                Zandry almost inhaled some of her coffee. “Wait, so the legendary demon Phantomhive and his immortal butler… they actually exist?!”

                “They sure do!” Grell cheered.

                “So the humans have already made legends out of them…” Will muttered.

                Grell leapt up and bounced over to his desk. He returned with a photograph. “Look at this, Zandry. Isn’t he gorgeous?”

                She examined the photo. Michaelis was tall, lean, and incredibly handsome, just as the myths described. “He is fairly attractive.”

                “Oh, he’s much better in person. To simply be in his presence is as invigorating as a…”

                It was at that point that the fax outlining Zandry’s next target printed off, so she stopped listening to Grell’s rant and nodded to Will before departing.

                “…passionate love story perhaps even more beautiful than that of Romeo-  hey, where’d she go?”

                “She probably left to go vomit.”

                Zandry skimmed the brief outline of her assignment in the elevator and was surprised to find her next target lived in southern China, a land she had never even dreamed of visiting. Thrilled, she barely stepped out of the office building before dematerialized for the human world.

҉

Overcome with excitement, Zandry leapt from building to building, loving the strange, sloping rooftops and bizarre culture that lined the alleyways. After over an hour of exploring, she finally calmed down and began to look for her target. After a brief search, she came across her target in his house.  Ju-long was meditating on the floor.

                The Chinese are so strange… Zandry thought. Seeing no one, she nonchalantly pierced his torso with her scythe and sat cross-legged on the floor and watched his cinematic record as one would a play.

                Born into a prestigious family, Ju-long never had to do anything but sit and drink tea as life was handed to him on a bamboo platter. In fact, he always felt guilty for leading such a privileged life when so many were suffering beneath him. At his 32nd birthday, however, he was given the one thing he desired most- the opportunity to help someone else. His parents always bought him an extravagant present for the New Year, and that year it was a night with a beautiful prostitute named Jia Li. Instead of defiling her as most men would, he handed her a cup of tea and talked with her long into the night. Even after morning came, he continued to show the maiden kindness. For years he put his family’s influence to work and eventually earned her freedom. By then, he had fallen hopelessly in love with her, and he watched as she fell for and got married to someone else.  In time, he married as well, though he could never forget her. He and his wife bore three sons, all well-mannered and successful, and he retired feeling satisfied with what he had done with his life.

                Aw, how sweet, Zandry sneered before ending his life. She wandered around the house and eventually found a small table of food, no doubt prepared for Ju-long and his wife to eat later.

҉

          “I brought Chinese!” Zandry announced as she walked back into the office at 8:30.

            “Hell yeah!” Knox cheered before digging in.

            “Don’t you think it’s a bit rude to steal the food of your victims?” Will drawled, who likewise grabbed a bowl of rice.

            “Oh, please, Will, they’re dead. It’s not like they’re going to snack on it later on.” Grell teased before lifting a bowl of soup to his lips.

            Zandry thunked her sickle on a desk before claiming her share of stolen food.

            “You know, it’s high time you design your own scythe.” Will pointed out.

            Zandry dropped her chopsticks. “I can do that?!”

            “Of course! Don’t you remember us telling you that?” Grell said.

            “You really need to pay more attention to our instructions.” Will muttered.

            “Whatever. How do I do it?”

            “Sketch a design and submit it to the Board of Death Scythes to get it approved.” Will recited. “It’s really quite simple.”

            “Yes, but it takes foreeevvverrrr unless you know somebody.” Grell complained.

            “Well, Zandry might be an exception.” Knox said through a mouthful of rice. “She’s quite the celebrity, after all.”

            “I am?”

            “Of course. It’s not every day a human becomes a Reaper, let alone in three months.” Said Will.

            “You’re a prodigy!” Grell praised.

            “Really? I’m flattered.” Zandry got to her feet. “Well, boys, if you’ll excuse me, I have some design work to do.”