You killed my brother / Prepare to die

“You killed my brother.”

Chouji, surprise surprise, was still in the hospital. Having most of your internal and external organs obliterated does that to you. 

“P-Please don’t phrase it like that.”

And he was still stuck there with this white-haired guy with a scythe.

“How else am I supposed to say it? If I’m understanding this correctly, Reapers are not the ones responsible for the deaths of humans. And yet.” Chouji glared at the white-haired guy, who shrunk under his gaze. “You were the one who reaped Daisuke’s soul prematurely. That sure sounds a lot like killing, no?”

The white-haired guy pouted in a manner that was oddly adorable.

“I said I was sorry…” he mumbled.

Chouji sighed, even though it made his diaphragm ache. He was supposed to be dead. His brother actually was. But for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at this poor guy. To err was human, assuming he actually was human.

“What’s stopping you?” Chouji asked.

The white-haired creature blinked.

“What’s stopping you from reaping me?” Chouji asked again.

“W-Well, I was going to, obviously. But now that you can see me it’s just… it’s just really awkward, I’m sorry. I can’t do it.”

“But it would get you out of hot water.”

Chouji was met with shocked blue eyes. He continued.

“It’s quite obvious that your mistake landed you in trouble with your boss, whoever that may be. Wouldn’t the easiest solution be following through on your plans?”

“It won’t bring your brother back, just to let you know. He’s already been compensated. Also you’re weirdly eager to get rid of your life,” the other guy said. “I’ve never met anyone like that before.”

“We haven’t met, though. Not really. I don’t even know your name.”

The white-haired guy narrowed his eyes and wagged a finger at Chouji.

“You’re trying to trick me! I don’t know how, but you are! I can sense your game!”

“Well, since you killed my brother—”

“Stop saying that!”

“—I think telling me your name is the least you could do.”

The white-haired guy scrunched his face, trying to think of a rebuttal but coming up dry. He stepped back and forth anxiously, which made the folds in his black robes bounce. He sighed.

“It’s Morty,” he said.

That was an interesting name. It was also a foreign one. Chouji took a closer look at Morty’s face, as best as he could with a neck brace.

“No offense, Morty, maybe it’s just my lack of glasses but you don’t look Japanese,” he said.

“Because I’m not.”

“Oh? But you speak Japanese quite well. You sound fluent.”

Morty shrugged.

“Different languages is an Earth thing,” he explained. “It bumps up the difficulty, prevents players from banding together too much I think. So beings outside of the game don’t have to worry about it. That applies to me, cuz I’m a Reaper, and I guess it applies to you, since your contract already expired.”

Chouji nodded to himself. Without a proper contract, he could now see supernatural entities and even understand all languages. Being in a weird limbo state between death and life was great. He thought back on Morty’s prior words.

“What did you mean by ‘compensated’?” he asked.

“Because your brother’s soul was, uh, accidentally reaped while there were still years left on his contract,” Morty said, “I think he got upgraded to a better plan for the inconvenience. That’s usually what we do for those mistakes.”

Despite being all but chained to his hospital bed, Chouji felt like he could fly. His brother was still alive somewhere. Maybe not here, but somewhere. Perhaps there was even a chance they could get in contact with each other. Say goodbye.

But his aspirations were cut short. Because out of the corner of his eye, Chouji could make out another scythe phasing through the hospital room door.

~⚔~

She dodged.

Duh, of course she did. What kind of tutorial NPC would she be if she just died right there and left me to complete this horrible by my lonesome?

Just barely though. 

The blade embedded itself into a tree behind Gina. I gaped. Half of the sword’s length was in the tree. But of course it wasn’t; it was only the tip of the half-sword that was stuck. Still, to be able to do that required immense strength.

Gina reached up to touch the tip of her left ear. Her fingers came back red.

“Calm down, now,” she said. “It’s just me, Dave.”

Soundlessly, he rose to his feet. Half-Sword Dave was a pillar of muscle, tall enough to make Coral look like a minnow. I could now see that he was mostly naked. He had leather braces, boots, and a belt which held up a skirt made of fur from some poor woodland creature, like a grizzly bear. He had cloak that was just as fuzzy and bearlike draped around his broad, sculpted shoulders.

“I recognized the rhythm of your footsteps, Ginormous Chest,” he said. His voice was so low you could feel it vibrating your bones. It was as scratchy as bark, like he wasn’t used to talking. He had unkempt blond hair and a scraggly beard to go along with it. His ruby red eyes shone in the dark, reflecting the campfire like a wild animal’s.

Those eyes turned to me. It was a miracle I didn’t shit my pants.

“I didn’t recognize yours, though,” he said. “Step out of the shadows, boy.”

As I did, his stony face did not change an iota. 

“H-Hello sir. My name is Daisuke Mizuhara. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I put on the best smile I could, which he did not return. In fact it didn’t even register to him.

“I’m his tutorial NPC. We’re on a quest,” Gina said.

“Ah. Back to your old schemes, Ginormous.” He lumbered towards Gina, who was trying to pull the half-sword out of the tree, one foot on the trunk and yanking with all her might. Dave plucked it out with one hand.

“It’s funny you mention that,” Gina said. “We actually came here to ask you to—”

“No.” He wasn’t even looking at us when he barked that out. His disgustingly muscular back was pointed our way as he sauntered back into his camp. 

“We didn’t even say what we needed you to do!” I said.

“I don’t need to.” Dave went back to sitting on a log by the fire, sharpening his half-sword. But it looked a bit shorter. I turned to the tree it just came from. Something was glinting in the score left within the bark.

Dave didn’t pull out the sword.

He broke it off again.

“I’ve had my fill of adventure. Enough to last life times, especially from a party like her’s.” My eyes could have been playing tricks on me, but I could’ve sworn his eyes were getting a little misty as he repeated the monotonous motion of sharpening his blade.

“C’mon, man! You’re a Player too! We should stick together and—”

He plunged the sword into the log, nearly bisecting it. His eyes blazed.

“Oh right. You’re a Player. Allow me to explain my feelings about players…”

It was at this moment I knew, I fucked up.