The air on the outskirts of the Cleaner HQ was always a little different, thinner, quieter, tasting of damp earth and forgotten things. It was the perfect place to disappear, and you knew exactly who to look for. You found her in her usual spot, tucked in the shadow of a large, gnarled tree that seemed to twist up towards the hazy sky like a claw.

Riyo was dozing off, her form a study in uncharacteristic peace. Her jacket was balled up under her head as a makeshift pillow, and the usual sharp, glint in her eyes was hidden away. Her breathing was slow and even, making her look younger, softer. The infamous Reaper was, for a moment, just a girl catching a nap under a strange tree.

You stepped carefully, but a twig snapped under your boot. Her eyes fluttered open instantly. Yet, instead of the sharp glare or playful jab you might have expected for interrupting her solitude, a slow, lazy smile spread across her face.

“Took you long enough to find my spot,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. She yawned, stretching her arms over her head with a contented sigh.

Then, in a move so shockingly bold it left no room for argument, she shifted. Instead of settling back onto her jacket, she simply dropped her head into your lap, nuzzling against your legs like a cat claiming its favorite spot.

“You’re comfier,” she stated, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world. Her eyes were already closing again. “Don’t move, or I’ll have to give you a bad haircut in your sleep.”