Yet another oneshot (again)...like I said, there will be quite a few. Any time anyone wants me to continue with any of these, just let me know, okay? I probably won't mind. And I really do enjoy reviews, if you actually give them to me. I haven't gotten very many and they are very welcomed. I know I say that every time without fail, but even so. And, like, my other oneshot, Broken, this one holds characters from my first story: By the Fire's Light. It might be a little confusing, but I hope not. If it is, let me know. Thanks.Savoring Tragedy

He was watching the group again with sick fascination. These were the people who had overcome war, loss, pain, and still had the will to go on. It was, to say the least, surprising. Even now, as they recuperated from such pain, as they remembered everything that had happened, they were smiling and trying to enjoy themselves, watching out for each other. Against all odds, they were still having fun.

He hit his fist hard on the table, rippling the image of the companions and making it blur briefly. When it cleared, his eyes narrowed as the liquid shifted view to show the twins, Renji. Taran. By far, they were the most strong-willed of the group. They had been through so much together than they fueled each other’s strength. It was automatic, and the only way to break them was to do it one at a time. By getting one, the other would already be cracked.

A small smile curved his lips, making their pale color even more ironic. A smile didn’t fit on his face; it never would. And it shouldn’t have been there anyway, not at the thought of Renji and Taran finally giving up- that was just inhumane. But it was, for he reveled in that idea, the idea of breaking another person’s will, of destroying their faith.

The only question now was one of time. He knew he needed to wait, but to him, patience was a sin, not a virtue. Standing perfectly still and staring down at the image, he slowly exhaled. If need be, he could be patient, even if he didn’t like it, and the situation called for it right now.

“Lord Requiem,” a quiet voice said from nearby, using his chosen name instead of the real one, the one that he was given as a god. He didn’t move. “Your presence is requested by Draco, of the Demon territory in Portugal.” The Angel of Death stood perfectly still as he relayed the message, his tri-colored hair shadowing his face just slightly.

“This had better be worth it,” the god growled in answer, his strange eyes narrowing into slits. The basin of water he had been observing turned black as he faded into the darkness, leaving to where he was bade, and his Angel stood watching long after he was gone.