As I looked at the world from the highest place, everything below my feet is an open canvas. Each person, each place–they were all a vivid stroke of life's brush, each with their own unique story to tell, and secrets laid bare for me to see.

Humans. It is their duality that continues to pique my interest. Even as I, too, am bound by the constraints of a mortal body, I find myself intrigued by the way they present themselves to the world, donning masks and presenting a facade to hide their true selves. Only when they are alone, in the solitude of their own company, do they shed these disguises, ripping off the masks they had been wearing all the time.

I wonder why people tend to hide their pain and pretend that everything is okay. Is it because they do not want to be pitied? Do they believe that no one will understand them? Do they truly think that out of the billions of living souls in the world, none have experienced similar problems as them? Would it not be easier for all if they simply spoke the truth rather than bottling it up inside?

As I stood there lost in thought, a sudden movement caught my eye. From out of the darkness, my familiar, Raphael, emerged. Like a shadow given form, he materialized beside me, his presence a confirming gesture for my transaction today.

"Our client has made a decision," he said, handing me the cellphone. "She will call us any time now."

In cue, the phone rang and I accepted the call. The only sound that filled my ears was the deep, ragged breaths of the person on the other end of the line. Eventually, a voice broke through the static, trembling with emotion. "Pain Reaper," the caller sobbed, "p-please, I want to forget everything about him."

Despite the caller's distress, I am unable to feel any sense of empathy or compassion for her, for my nature is incapable of experiencing such ordinary emotions. Instead, I am left with a sense of detachment, observing but not fully understanding the complex and varied feelings of the human race.

"Is that really what you want?" I inquired with a cold tone. After a moment of hesitation, the caller affirmed her desire to forget all memories of the person in question.

"Yes," she says, her voice barely audible. "I want to forget him and everything about him."

A smirk crossed my lips at her response, for I am well aware of the lengths to which people will go to escape their pain. It is all too easy to succumb to such desires.

"Remember our agreement in exchange for your request," I stated as I ended the call. I sighed and handed the cellphone back to Raphael. My left hand was then enveloped by a warm light, forming into an enchanted flower.

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"Bright red," I mumbled as I gazed into the manifestation of my victim's pain. "Intense emotions swirling within. Such an adoring sight."

Brushing my fingers over my left arm, where I held the delicate flower, my power awakened, causing the chains that held my grimoire - the book of magic and spells - to materialize and began to wrap my wrist. The earth beneath me seemed to sense the surge of energy, and it softened and yielded under my magic, enveloping me in red light. Closing my eyes, I let myself become lost in the flipping pages of the grimoire, letting the ancient words wash over me.

"Roses are red," I said as I slowly opened my eyes.

"Violets are blue," I continued, raising the flower in my hand.

"Memories are dead." I plucked a petal from the rose and let it drift to the ground.

"The soul is anew," I spoke the final words with conviction as the petal disappeared from sight.

As the red light dissipated, the concrete ground beneath me returned to its normal state, and the grimoire that had been attached to my left wrist vanished.

As I closed my eyes and allowed the memory of my victim to encompass me, I saw a young girl standing before me, her face filled with delight as a man presented her with a teddy bear. Her smile was so wide and genuine that it seemed to radiate warmth and joy. I could almost feel her excitement as she reached out to take the stuffed toy, clearly a much-coveted gift that had brought her bliss.

The man hugged her tightly, resting her head on his shoulder as he whispered, "My child..."

The bell sounded, signaling the students to gather in the quadrangle for the flag ceremony. I discreetly folded my hands to make the flower disappear, then placed them behind my back as I walked towards the assembly.

As I arrived, I noticed a female student and a man locked in a heated argument, drawing the attention of those around them. The woman's disbelief was palpable; her lips quivered in fear as she stared at the man in front of her. He, in turn, seemed equally incredulous, his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed in frustration. Despite the tension between them, the man approached her, determined to make his point heard.

"Isabelle, it's me! Don't you remember me anymore?" The man's voice was filled with hurt. The woman he was talking to slightly retreated.

That woman.

She was the one who called me earlier; she requested that I forget everything she experienced at the hands of her father.

I can't control what kind of memories my clients give me. If Isabelle's important memory is everything related to her father, which I think is also the reason why she is having a hard time remembering him, then it's not impossible for her to forget it.

"W-who are you?" the woman asked again.

I just looked away and headed to the line of my classmates.

People.

What will change if they are forced to forget their past memories? Can't they just accept everything that happened? Why do they have to make it hard for themselves just to forget the past?

I lifted my gaze to the sky and sighed, taking in the breathtaking scene before me. The cerulean expanse was dotted with fluffy white clouds, seeming to dance playfully in the gentle breeze. It was as if the sun itself was hesitant to fully reveal itself, choosing instead to peek out from behind the clouds and bask the world in its warm glow.

I am Aurora Blanco. I possess the power to silence the emotions and ease the suffering of mortals through the power of my enchanted flowers. In exchange for my gift, all they must offer is a precious memory, stored in the depths of their hearts.

And I am better known by the name,

Pain Reaper.