Angel was a quick learner. Jeremiah, after the first week, was soon treated to the sounds of her running in the halls of his home. The rich, dark wood of the walls and floors was polished flawlessly, and the floors made for excellent sliding in socks. His granddaughter had spent a couple of days helping the girl learn how to care for her new body parts. Angel always vanished when Jeremiah walked by. She already knew all of the best dark corners to hide in.

The staff made sure she had food three times a day, but she avoided Jeremiah as much as she could.

Jasmine eventually realized that she needed to help the two bond. “Grandfather, the girl needs to get to know you as something more relatable than the Shinigami who beat her in a duel,” she started in their next video call.

“I have a few ideas. I know chocolate has certain uses…”

---===+++===---

That evening, around seven, he answered the door after he placed an order. Dinner had been at six. Carrying the large box from a local ice cream shop into the first floor kitchen, he could hear the girl slide gracefully to the railing of the second floor mezzanine. Jeremiah called out, “I wonder if anyone would like to help me deal with this ice cream. Does anyone want hot fudge?”

She shocked him by having silently come down and was peeking around the doorsill that led out to the stairs. She froze like a deer in the headlights when he looked her straight in the eyes. “Do you like ice cream? I have a few flavors.”

The quiet nod came with a mild look of confusion. “I once tasted some chocolate ice cream, but brother said I needed to get back in the tank after I had a bite.”

“Can I call you Angie, like Jasmine does? I have lots of ice cream, and I promise you can have all you want,” he replied with a chuckle.

“What do I call you?” she asked with a fearful look.

With a considering look and an exaggerated grimace of hard thinking, he replied, “That is an excellent question. I consider you family now. Jasmine is family, and she calls me Grandfather, Old Man, or Oyabun. The last one is when we are working. Do you have any suggestions? I’m open to what you are comfortable with. If we end up working together, I would rather you use Oyabun. The rest of the time, it’s up to you.”

“Can I think about it?” she asked with a serious look on her face.

“Sure! Of course, I have a serious question that you must answer now, though.” She looked at him fearfully for a moment. “Do you want chocolate or vanilla ice cream?” he asked with a serious looking scowl.

“Can I have both?” she asked with a slight smile.

“You, miss, have a keen mind! Do you want hot fudge?”

“I’ve never had it. Is it good?” she asked.

“I think that it should be mandatory!” he answered with a smile.

Jeremiah got two bowls out of the cupboard and got out spoons and ice cream scoops. She observed as Jeremiah scooped three blobs of sweet-smelling white confection. Her eyes were like saucers as her added three scoops of chocolate ice cream beside the vanilla. When he took out the heated cup of fudge, the wafting odor overwhelmed the girl, and she almost began to drool. He carefully poured a generous coating onto the scoops of ice cream. Placing the bowl at her place at the kitchen table, he pulled out the chair for her, “Would milady like to have a seat?” Her tentative smile and not were an improvement to their interactions.

Jeremiah created a duplicate bowl for himself and put the ice cream into the freezer before taking a seat across the table from Angel. The girl was entranced as she scooped a spoon that was heaped with both types of frozen treat, with a generous amount of fudge on top. Her eyes closed in epic enjoyment as the heavenly mouthful melted on her tongue.

As she opened her eyes and went for another spoonful, she looked Jeremiah in the eyes, “Can I call you Pop?” she asked.

“Works for me.”

“I like Pop.” Was her prompt reply.

“Angie, I know this might be a tough subject… Do you remember your original family?”

Her expression turned darker as she swallowed a spoonful of chocolate goodness. “Not much. Brother said there was an accident. I know Mom and Dad died. He said he had adopted me in the hospital and paid for me to get treatment.”

“I’m afraid he left some information out of that explanation. Do you want to hear the truth?”

She looked down into the rapidly melting mass of creamy sweetness with a furrowed brow. “I think I want to know. I know he was not that good a person, but my brother kept me alive.”

Jeremiah nodded in agreement. “Yes, without him, you would not be here. Here is what we have found out. Your family was driving somewhere and got into a crash. Your parents were, unfortunately, brain dead when they got to the hospita,l and you were in a coma. The insurance company had them put on life support and listed with the local body bank. After a few months, they had you treated the same, because the money they were required to pay ran out.”

“I can’t remember their faces,” she whispered with an almost inaudible sob. “How did I end up where I did?” she asked as she looked back up to Jeremiah.

“Your brother bought you from the body bank. Our investigation showed us that your missing parts were sold by them. They tried to use stem cells to grow them back, but they accidentally used medications that had been contaminated with mutagens. This caused the problems we had trying to regrow or replace the parts they used. Your body was put up for sale. They had kept you in an induced coma the whole time. Your brother, Garth, purchased your body after about six months. He acquired six others in a similar condition. The other six could not be woken up.”

“What happened to the others?” she asked.

With a serious expression, Jeremiah hesitantly answered, “I’m sorry. Garth disposed of them. I would rather not share how.”

“So, he was a pretty bad guy.”

“Even evil people can create good things. If he had been a better man, we might not be having this tasty treat!” Jeremiah said with a gentle smile.

“Are you a bad guy?” she asked with the innocence only a child could deliver.

“I try not to be. I do have some hard choices sometimes. I like to think that I make good choices as often as I can. I did get angry at the man who hired Garth. Angry men find it hard to be good.” He considered for a moment. “What do you think?”

“I think I like chocolate and vanilla ice cream. I also like hot fudge!” she said with a smile before her face turned curious. “How old are you, Pop?”

“I’ll tell you a secret. I stopped counting when I turned eighty.” He said with a smile.

She looked doubtfully at him, “You don’t look eighty.”

“I was eighty when I was diagnosed with stage four cancer. I fought that for a long time. As I was going through hospice, my son got some illegal painkillers for me so I would not suffer. Like you, I ended up getting a dose tainted with mutagen. As you can see, it went better than anyone expected.” He said as he raised his arms to show his youthful appearance.

“What do I have to do as a member of the Yokai group?” she asked after a long pause.

“You have a bunch of options once you have gotten your education on track. You could be anything you want for us. We have many jobs. Jasmine is a Kitsunae, but she does work as a Nogitsunae sometimes. She was working as a Nogitsunae when she killed the man who hired Garth to kill my son.” His smile was gentle until the last sentence.

“So, I don’t have to be a Shinigami?” she asked.

“No. That is a very specialized job. Very few people choose it. Even fewer stay in it very long.”

---===+++===---

Sam had returned to the Mod base after the confrontation in Old Town. Rachel asked him to tell her about himself that first night he returned. He found her easy to talk to. Once he wound down his tale, she told him of how she had begun gathering her people when she found herself changed. She was one of the lucky ones. Her changes were invisible, but powerful. Her ability to blink herself to a distance of up to six feet from where she was had saved her and others when scared crowds had attacked. Some people were scared of people who were different. Scared people easily turned to violence.

---===+++===---

Jasmine met Johnny at a little jazz bar on the southern border of the free zone. The smooth and sultry tones were a perfect background as they sat together in a cozy booth. The oxblood leather upholstery was comfortable and had a deep scent of sandalwood oil that mixed well with the atmosphere in the dark club. They both figured Grey would have approved of the place.

She told him the cute and silly tales of growing up with the stern man. A new side was revealed to him. A side that had a warm sense of humor.

He shared tales of death defying runs into territories that no sane man would have gone. He told her of the war stories her father had shared afterward over aged bourbon. They each had more of said aged spirit than might have been a good idea. They eventually ran out of stories about the fallen Shinigami and began telling tales of themselves.

When last call came, they called a cab and shared it. She asked if she could see his place, and maybe have one last nightcap…