Prologue

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The day it rained spiders was the day Shiori met Death.

She'd seen Death before, of course. Or at least, she'd seen pictures. They were honestly hard to avoid. Death's visage was on all the major billboards, the sides of the SEPTA trolley cars, and most glaringly, the black tower he occupied in the heart of Philadelphia, the one that used to called One Liberty Place, with the pointy top and the walls that had once been blue but were now shellac black with two glowing eyes and a big scythe painted on the side.

She was quite sure she'd seen Death in person as well—in the flesh—or... well, lack thereof. From far away, walking down the street, she would sometimes glimpse a tall black figure with cape and scythe, so unimaginatively stereotypical she often questioned the underworld's fashion sense.

Other people would give Death a wide berth, take alternate routes, or turn around at the sight of him. Shiori never bothered. She lived only a few blocks away from his tower, so it was only a matter of time before they ran into each other. She had sometimes hoped (secretly, and with good-natured indignation), that they would meet someday, if only so she could give him a piece of her mind.

In fact, when later asked to recall the day she met Death for the first time, Shiori would swear—with great vehemence and no small amount of irritation—that meeting him was less annoying than the spiders.

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