Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine,
et lux perpetua luceat eis.

I - Mercy

It had been precisely two months since Flight 191 went down over the Pacific Ocean and took all 9 crew members and 136 passengers with it, two of whom hailed from Fuyuki City where their only daughter still resided. The news aired all over Japan, especially touted in the city due to the loss of local citizens. Although the wreckage of the plane was recovered, many bodies were not, leaving room for hope of their survival—hope which spiraled with every passing day, until those missing were declared dead in absentia, including Atosaki Kurokawa's mother and father.

She could remember her last words to them before their trip: "Come back soon."

Life for the young woman was reduced to little more than a monotonous drone, day-in and day-out the same routine of staying afloat and keeping up, just barely. She missed her parents terribly, she'd not yet finished grieving, and with their sudden passing she struggled to manage legal matters and tie up loose ends. The healing process didn't progress as it should have. Atosaki was still struggling with the trauma of last year, and she needed her parents now more than ever.

Nothing felt like home anymore. A magnitude 9.0 earthquake had utterly obliterated her last one. Fuyuki City was supposed to be a new beginning, yet it turned out as just another end. Misfortune after misfortune befell their family—shortly after Atosaki's mother was diagnosed with cancer, her father lost his job, and Atosaki could do nothing to help but pray when they decided to seek treatment in America with their remaining funds. After months passed, Atosaki received news that the procedures succeeded and her parents were coming home and they could be a family again.

Only, they never did.

Oftentimes she slept late into the afternoon and barely consumed a single meal throughout the day, but morning on this particular Sunday came early as she planned on visiting the church on the hill. While Atosaki was not terribly religious, her parents always had great faith in God, and she hoped her prayers would reach them. Not only that, she wanted to make a confession. She couldn't hold in the secret much longer.

"Father, I honestly believe I'm losing my mind. The other night… I saw something impossible."

The priest, Kirei Kotomine, with his somber cassock and insincere face, quirked one eyebrow in feigned interest. "Go on."

The black-haired girl, wearing a fittingly drab black dress in the wooden chair before him nodded, fingers interwoven on her lap.

"…There were… two men fighting each other in the yard outside Homurahara Academy. Not like a drunken fistfight or anything, they had actual bladed weapons. At first I thought they weren't real, but then one of them yelled out and disappeared like he was chasing something. I still… don't understand what I saw. It's been eating away at me because I can't make sense of it."

Kotomine sighed deeply, pensive. "Some aspects of life are not meant to make sense, like the way your parents passed, God rest their souls. That is the Lord's divine mystery. Do not dwell in the past, for you only have the future ahead of you. Allow it to play out as it will, and perhaps an answer shall come."

Atosaki grimaced when he mentioned her parents, even more so when he smirked slightly talking about this 'divine mystery' as if he knew some hilarious joke she did not. She hadn't expected much of a response from the priest, only wanting to lift the burden from her chest. Maybe, after weeks of isolation, she needed to speak with someone.

"Thank you, Father. I appreciate your advice," said Atosaki, standing and giving a hasty bow before she headed toward the nave and the exit.

"May the Lord be with you," replied Kotomine as he too stood to follow her path between the two rows of wooden pews.

His eyes stayed on the girl up until the church doors closed behind her. In the following silence he shook his head out of mild amusement, hands clasped at his back, and turned around, facing the altar.

"I know you can hear me," he said softly, dangerously. "You know what to do."

Atosaki went through the rest of the day with the distinct feeling that someone was watching her. Every so often she'd look back and check, but everything would appear normal. Even at the crowded market she sensed it, although that may have only been the cheap sushi she had for lunch beginning to disagree with her stomach. Unfortunately, money was tight since the unforeseen complications regarding inheritance were not yet resolved, and hiring a respectable lawyer wasn't exactly low-cost either. Instant ramen for dinner again, not that Atosaki minded much since a good dose of monosodium glutamate made virtually any meal taste good.

She returned home once the sun dipped below the horizon and night announced itself. Since the Kurokawa household sat on a dead silent street it couldn't have felt any lonelier. Atosaki's fatigue took the place of her earlier paranoia; she was too tired to worry about what was probably nothing. Arriving at the front porch, Atosaki planted herself down and for a moment did not move. The stars shone brighter and brighter every minute.

A sudden, loud tri-tone ring from her purse forced her to dig out her cellphone and tend to the alert on the screen. Perhaps it was the financial adviser getting back to her.

"Remember," she read from a little popup box, "take meds with dinner. Oh, right. I'd probably forget again."

Atosaki grabbed the plastic grocery bags and hoisted them up, movements drowsy to the point that she tripped while taking off her shoes, landing with food scattered everywhere in the entrance. Oranges rolled down the hallway along with a few bottles of carbonated soft drink. She snatched only her purse and a packet of ramen before she stood to enter the kitchen. When finally she opened the medicine drawer she realized that the antidepressants were missing, shortly reminded that she placed them inside the bathroom cabinet in the morning.

On the way over, a shiver suddenly worked its way like a lightning bolt up her spine and Atosaki slowed her pace, slightly unnerved by the cold sensation, but she continued walking until she reached a picture of her family, the embarrassing vacation one, hung aslant from a nail in the hallway wall. She paused to adjust the frame and then, another step taken, suddenly slipped on a wayward orange, tipping backwards.

Seconds later she was sent reeling by the force of a crimson pole being thrust into the wooden flooring mere feet away. Splinters and broken panels rained down around her as she remained where she'd fallen flat on her bottom, paralyzed by fear. Every muscle in her body went numb, perhaps even those which controlled the respiratory system since she could hardly breathe.

It took a moment to realize that the projectile was actually a spear and its wielder still had his hands around it, crouched down as if inspecting the damage. He righted himself, sighed a bit and dislodged the weapon from the ground.

"A second time missing, just my luck…"

The blue-haired, blue-clad man stepped around the hole he made, bright red eyes fastened on the dark brown of Atosaki's, intentions painstakingly clear. His spear was at her throat in an instant. She gasped, recognizing him as one of the men from the schoolyard.

"Ready to die?" he asked her casually.

The girl blinked once and then glanced down at the spearhead and then looked at him. She merely smiled, sadly.

"Not really," was the gentle reply. "But at least I'll get to see them again."

Lancer faltered slightly, surprised and confused at once. It had been a rhetorical question but she answered anyway, so calm. He shouldn't have cared either way—he'd done this a few times before—yet his gaze stayed fixed on that wan, defeated smile. Trying to look away before doing the deed, he saw a smashed picture frame on the ground, a photo of a family at the beach inside. The father wearing a black suit wore a bored, deadpan expression as the mother's hair blew in his face, and the young couple's overly excited child between them bore a striking resemblance to the girl on the floor.

The smile there, though far brighter, still looked the same.

"Hey."

A small voice called his attention and he noticed its owner staring at him. She maintained her smile naturally, without strain.

"If you're going to do it, you should do it," she suggested, almost laughing. "I mean, I can only admire the craftsmanship on this spear for so long."

He became increasingly frustrated by her audacity, and the fact he was hesitating. The girl didn't run, didn't scream, didn't fight back, she even talked to him, and that made things difficult. The lack of a struggle bewildered him so much that his drive and motivation actually dwindled. If anything, Lancer mused, he could kill her and wipe that infuriating smile off her face.

When he looked back down at the girl, her smile was crumbling the previous expression exchanged for muted grief. Unbearable tears glittered at the corners of her eyes.

"W-whenever I wanted to stay in bed all day," she whispered, staring down, "Mom always told me I can sleep when I'm dead. But honestly, I'm not tired yet."

Her trembling hands reached out and gripped Gáe Bolg by its shaft, almost begging to be killed. There were no good reasons left, she couldn't find any. Even if something here might save her somehow, even if a lifeline miraculously dropped into this pit, she'd decline the help. She wanted to stop because it hurt too much to try, to build up hope and see it all destroyed. She didn't want to live and she didn't want to die, what kind of life was that?

"It's okay though," she said softly, and raised her gaze. "I don't mind."

"…Shut up."

Atosaki watched as an undisguised shadow of rage passed over the man's face. He pulled his spear back, impatient, ready to strike. The girl only sighed.

"Ah, sorry. Stalling, aren't I?"

She closed her eyes and waited. It worried her that it might hurt, but of course, with a spear like that, death would be almost instantaneous. Hopefully her parents were waiting for her on the other side.

Hopefully.

A rush of air, and a loud crunch sounded as the spear impacted its target.

Silence, silence, more silence—silence and only silence, the most awful silence.

Yet there was no pain, no loss of consciousness. Atosaki opened her eyes, still on the floor, still in the company of that man in blue. He glared at her, hands empty, and she looked down to see his spear buried up to the handle next to her, on the left side.

"Uh, I think you missed," she said slowly.

The man wrenched his weapon out of the paneling and aimed the spearhead at her throat again, making her flinch.

"Don't dare go near the church," he growled. "If you do, I'll make sure not to miss next time."

Atosaki nodded vehemently. "O-okay. I'm… not very religious, anyway. The priest there is kinda creepy too."

The man added no further comment, and he withdrew the spear, eyes still on her face.

She canted her head to one side, genuinely curious about where he'd go from here. "Can I… show you the door?"

He only huffed, turned, and vanished into thin air.

And Atosaki was speechless. She lay back, spread-eagled in the hallway with her heart beating erratically. Her voice didn't come back to her for at least half an hour, after which she sat up and hyperventilated a little longer.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my… geh, no churches."

The girl got to her feet after another half hour and, grabbing the family photo, dragged herself around the hole in the floor and off to bed so she could curl up and pull the covers over her head.

What a day.