Death's Love-Child: Chapter 2

(A year later)

           It was a faint beeping sound that awoke Giana. Rolling over in her bed, the young woman moaned and opened her blue and green eyes, looking over at the clock with slight hatred. It read 5:15 AM. With a grunt and a heave, Giana slouched upright, her passion-red hair fell in a tangled disarray around her head and face. Swatting the alarm tiredly, the infernal noise stopped and she sat there in her bed, tangled up in the bed-sheets for a moment, rubbing her eyes.

            Then, swinging her long legs over the edge of the bed, she stood up and dragged herself to her bedroom door, forcing herself to wake up. Walking down the hall of the apartment, she came to her father’s bedroom door and gave the door a light knock. After no response from inside the room, Giana pushed the door open and walked inside.

            She gave a sleepy laugh as she saw her father utterly tangled in his bed sheets and lying in a rather unlikely position. His lengthy red hair was flopped across his face and trailed off the bed, almost brushing against the scarlet carpet. Walking over to his bedside, still rubbing her eyes, she called him softly.

            “Dad,” she began gently. “You have to get up.”

            The sleeping man gave nothing but a sleepy murmur in reply.

            She sighed.

            “Come on, dad,” she insisted, slightly louder. “Get up!”

            He moaned and shifted slightly.

            Giving a soft chuckle, Giana climbed up behind her father on the crimson bed and kneeled on the mattress. Placing her hands on his shoulder, she shook him gently.

            “Dad.”

            “Mmrff…”

            “Dad!”

            “Mmmmrff…”

            “~Daaad,” she sang, leaning down to his ear.

            “Mmm,” he moaned rolling over to look at her slightly. “What?”

            “You have to get up.”

            “For death’s sake, why?” He asked, closing his green eyes again. “Why would you tear me from the warm embrace of my bed at this ungodly hour?”

            “You promised you would get up with me,” she reminded him in a scolding tone.

            “How about you lay down and cuddle with me instead?” He asked sleepily, snuggling deeper into his blankets. “It would be awfully sweet. And I haven’t gotten to spend nearly as much alone-time with my little girl as I would like.”

            “Ha, good try, dad. But you forget, I need to get ready to go to work.”

            “Work?”

            “Yes, work,” she said condescendingly. “I start my job at the Shinigami Dispatch Association today, remember? I have to go meet with Mr. Spears and last night you told me that you would come with me.”

            His eyes popped open. “Go? See Will?”

            She smirked and leaned down. “Yep, to go see Will.” She kissed his cheek. “Now, come on! Get out of bed!”

            After thirty minutes of fighting for a space in front of the bathroom mirror with her father and sharing the flat iron, Giana finished getting ready and prepared to leave. But it was only to be dragged back to the bathroom by her father, who pleaded for her help with his hair. Regretfully leaving a crying shinigami behind, she departed and made for the Dispatch. She shuddered at the thought of being late.

            Giana walked through the office building’s lobby with poise, despite the excitement welling up inside her. Her brilliant red hair was pulled up into a messy bun and she wore a simple, white, collared shirt with a navy blue pencil skirt. Her father had not been particularly pleased with her choice of attire, but as always, she had managed to pacify him with the promise of a compromise later, which—of course—she had no intention of keeping.

            Her scarlet heels clicked on the stone floor; they were the only bit of red her father had been able to persuade her to wear. With her clipboard clutched in hand, she occasionally readjusted her new glasses with pride, her bright eyes shining from behind them.

            There was a swarm of butterflies in her stomach and her thoughts kept returning to her hope that she wouldn’t blunder on the first day. Nevertheless, she was extremely excited. She had been looking forward to working under Mr. Spears a great deal and, now that her day had come, she just prayed that she would not disappoint him.

            “Hey, who’s that hot, new reaper graduate?” A familiar, chipper voice piped up from behind her.

            She paused only for a moment and only long enough to grin and shake her head as she turned around. An outgoing, blond-and-black-haired reaper was approaching her, his trademark grin on his face.

            “Ronald!” She smiled widely with a slightly scolding edge.

            “Well, I’ll be embalmed,” he feigned surprise. “Giana Sutcliff! Is that you?”

            “Of course! Who else?”

            With a glowing grin, the man embraced her good-naturedly. The new reaper groaned slightly as she was squeezed.

            “I just heard that you graduated a few days ago! Congrats, gorgeous!” He congratulated her. “And the frames,” he added getting a good look at her reaper’s glasses, “not too bad, could be worse. They could be better too, though. They’re a little too office friendly. I would’ve pegged you for a style that was a little more exciting.”

            “I like them,” she stated simply. “They’re professional-looking.”

            “Whatever you say, babe,” he shrugged carelessly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

            “I’m afraid I’m going to be late if I stand around,” she confessed anxiously.

            “No problem, I’ll walk with you. We’ll be working on the same floor.” After several moments of walking, Ronald Knox turned to the young woman beside him. “So, what did you end up choosing for your death scythe? Did you get a weed-whacker, like I suggested?”

            She laughed.

            “No, Ron. I did not get the weed-whacker. I’m sorry, but it’s far too loud and inefficient for my taste.”

            “Well, then what is more to your taste?”

            “A katana.”

            The blond headed reaper whistled.

            “Classy. Did you have to get additional training to get the license?”

            “Yes, but I had already opted to take sword handling as an elective, so it wasn’t like it was anything more than I planned on doing anyway,” she responded.

            “Gut-wrenching grief,” he breathed. “You’re really on top of all this reaper stuff. It’s pretty neat considering that you thought you were human until a year and a half ago.”

            “Yeah,” she mused. “Where did last year go, huh?”

            Getting on the elevator, Ronald lazed against the opposite side of the small space, while they waited to arrive at their floor.

            “So, who’s your assigned senpai? Your dad?”

            “Ah, no.” She chuckled. “He wanted to be, of course, but I didn’t think that it would be a good idea for obvious reasons. No, Mr. Spears stepped in and offered to be my senpai.”

            The man’s eyes bugged.

            “Mr. Spears offered?” He stuttered.

            “Yes, what’s so strange about that?”

            “Mr. Spears never willingly takes on a kohai. He hates being senpai to underlings!”

            “Well, I’m not just his kohai. I’m his assistant and secretary,” she explained.

            “Oh,” Ron’s expression fell. “That’s way less cool.”

            “Isn’t it more work though?” She asked.

            The door to the elevator opened and their shared general workspace appeared.

            “Hey, doll, I wouldn’t know,” he shrugged innocently. “Work is an alien concept to me.”

            “You’re hopeless, Ronald,” she said with a slightly amused shake of her head.

            “Yeah, but cute, right?” His stupid grin appeared as he backpedaled into the workspace, never taking his eyes off of her.

            “Sometimes,” she teased. “When you’re not being a total slob.” He pulled a shocked face and she laughed as she shooed him away. “Go on! I’ve got to report to Mr. Spears!”

            “Good luck, gorgeous!” He gave her a two-fingered salute. “Don’t make the senpai mad, please!”

            With one last smile, she sent him a wave then continued past his cubicle, making a beeline for Mr. Spear’s office. She took a tentative glance at a clock as she passed by. She still had two minutes. At last, her superior’s office door was in sight, the door label read the senpai’s name in pristine, neat letters. It was a bit intimidating, just like the actual man himself.

            She paused right in front of the door and considered the hands of the clock again. It would likely be preferable that she be precisely on time on her first day. So, in the two minutes she had, she inspected her appearance again and perfected it. Once she had been put right and her hair tucked and tidied, she had twenty seconds to spare. She readjusted her glasses once more. Synchronized with the ticking of the second hand, she counted down, then opened the door precisely at 6:00 AM.

            Upon entering the room, she felt a tremendous shift in atmosphere. William T Spears had redecorated since her first and only visit to his office. All was grey, cool, calm, and tidy. The air was perfectly humidified and the faint smell of cologne permeated the entire room. And once the door was shut, all sounds from outside—the shuffling of employees arriving at their cubicles, the air conditioning, and the slight echo which accompanied all these things—simply ceased. The atmosphere was perfectly suited to accommodate diligent work, without any distractions.

            “Miss Sutcliff,” the department manager addressed, rising to his feet. Giana’s stomach leapt up into her mouth at the sound of his voice. “You’re two minutes late.”

            Her stomach crashed back down like a rock.

            What?

            “Sir?”

            “I said you’re two minutes late,” he repeated himself calmly, the tips of his gloved fingers pressed together.

            “Oh. My apologies, sir,” she said, wincing. “The clock outside-”

            “Is two minutes slow,” he informed her shortly. “Please take note of it in the future. Now, please, sit.” He motioned to the chair across the desk from her.

            Only when she had complied and was settled did he resume his seat. It was a gentlemanly gesture, but it bore a strictly professional air.

            Still cursing herself for her first mistake of the day, she had to force herself to look her superior in the eyes, piercing as they were. She clutched her clipboard and personal file tightly, trying to remain as calm in appearance as possible.

            “Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?” He said, clearing his throat slightly. “I assume you brought your report file?”

            “Yes, sir.” She promptly extended the file to him.

            With a slight adjustment of his glasses, he opened it and wordlessly began to peruse it, his sharp eyes sliding down the page. A single eyebrow jerked upwards as he read, causing Giana to bite her lip in anxiety. She hoped that his surprise was positive.

            He turned the page. The young woman began to grow uncomfortable in the silence of his office. Suddenly, his two-toned green eyes widened slightly and his other eyebrow rose to join the first.

            “A katana?” He inquired.

            “Yes, sir,” she responded.

            “Why a katana?” He asked. When she paused to consider her answer, he added, “In three words, please.”

            “Elegant, efficient, practical,” she answered, meeting his eyes certainly.

            “Practical? Explain.”

            “Well, I’ve been told that combat is often an occupational hazard for the Shinigami Dispatch, especially in the London division,” she stated. “A katana is my weapon of choice. I merely combined tools.”

            A slight smile tugged at the corner of the senpai’s mouth and took the girl completely by surprise.

            “You’re getting a bit ahead of yourself,” he told her, apparently amused. “You have no need to be concerned with combat yet as you will be working here at the office for the time being. I do, however, appreciate your forethought,” he added, returning the file to her.

            “You have no more need of this, sir?” She inquired as she accepted her file. She gestured to the multiple pages that had gone unviewed by him.

            “No, I search for very specific things, all of which I found in the first two pages.”

            “And… how did you find those things?” She asked meekly.

            “All in surprisingly good order. Your overall grades were laudable, all of your instructors give you excellent behavioral reviews, and your reasoning behind your choice of death scythe is both logical and, as you put it, practical. In other words, you meet my face-value standards. Only time will tell if your actual performance can satisfy me as well."
            "I see, sir."
            "Now, as my secretary and assistant, you will have quite a few duties which will demand your complete attention and are to be completed with the utmost speed.” As he said this, he extracted a stack of papers from a drawer in his desk and handed them to her. “Your main duties will entail filling out the paperwork from completed reaping cases and preparing pre-death case files.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Good,” he responded, standing up and side stepping his desk. She stood as well and followed him to the door. “Because I expect those papers to be returned in a state of perfection, every detail noted, every eventuality considered. Just because you are new on the job doesn’t mean that I’m going to accept poor performance from you.”

“Of course not, sir.”

“Your grades state that you know what you’re doing, prove to me that you do.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ah, there’s no need to address me as ‘sir’ every time you speak to me, Miss Sutcliff. You may call me Mr. Spears.”

“Yes, s.. Mr. Spears.”

“Excellent. And Miss Sutcliff,” he addressed her as she turned to leave. “Those are just your duties as my kohai.” Hearing him call her kohai surprised Giana greatly, considering what Ronald had said earlier concerning her superior’s dislike for serving as senpai. “As my personal assistant, you will have other, less regulated duties. The first of which will be to go fetch me some coffee. There is a kiosk in the lobby. Feel perfectly free to get some for yourself, but note that I take mine medium roast, cream, but no sugar.”

“Y-yes, Mr. Spears,” she nodded, taking mental note of his preference. “I’ll just drop off this paperwork at my cubicle, then I’ll be on my way.”

“Very good,” he applauded mildly. “Ah, but do you know where your cubicle is located?”

“Oh,” she said dumbly. “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Hmm, well, ask someone; they’ll tell you. I’m afraid I can’t be bothered with it at the moment.”

For an instant, she pulled a rather irritated face. What marvelous help you are, she muttered mentally.

“Alright, I’ll be on my-”

“GIIIAAANAAA!” A shrill voice cried out and the girl winced slightly.

A moment later, there was a blur of red, which attached itself to the young woman and caused the papers in her hands to flutter to the ground around her. Both she and William Spears bore the same expression: one of intense and barely controlled frustration.

Grell Sutcliff, the only shinigami who could’ve thoughtlessly caused such chaos, was currently hugging his daughter tightly, pitiful tears running down his face.

“Giana! You hurt my feelings so when you just left like that! How could you be so cold?!” He exclaimed, pressing his cheek into the side of her face. “Your own dearest, darling, daddy!”

“Father…” She moaned. 

“Grell.” Mr. Spear’s suddenly authoritative voice stilled all commotion in the room. “Please detach yourself from my assistant.”

Both the Sutcliffs froze and turned to stare at the manager, but each for different reasons. For Giana, a slight excited chill came over her when he had referred to her as his assistant. It was only the first day, and yet, already he was a bit possessive for her sake. For Grell, however, it was because he had just been made aware of Mr. Spear’s presence.

“Will!” He cried, releasing his daughter. “Good morning! How has my little Giana-bug done so far today?”

“Fairly well,” he answered stiffly.

“Isn’t she fabulous?!”

“Grell, please, cease your commotion for a moment and help me pick up the papers you caused your daughter to drop.”

“Anything for you, Will!” He responded eagerly.

Giana bent down to assist them, but William stopped her.

“No, go on and get my coffee, please, Miss Sutcliff. Your paperwork will be in order by the time you get back.”

“Right away, Mr. Spears.”

As Giana’s heels clicked away, the department manager found his bright but narrow eyes flicking up to watch her leave. She was interesting, and very different from her father. With another adjustment of his glasses, he found himself becoming curious as to how this would turn out.